Morris DuBose, part of our Trinity family, wrote and performed this poem as part of our Passion concert and Good Friday Stations of the Cross service. Thank you, Morris, for sharing your gift of words with us!
In… the… beginning,
When God had made the expanse of the sky and the depth of the sea
The carving of the mountains, the painting of the flowers ,
The lighting of the sun,
The mapping of the stars had all been done,
As God looked across what had been wrought
At this masterpiece there was something…
All the things and creatures formed on God’s very lips were good,
But, as the sun set, God wanted to share them.
Enter… the seed of humanity
People who can love the earth and nurture the creation
Who cherish each other and share in God’s joy.
Whose time with God was intimate and innocent
In everything God was their source.
Where the Presence was the rule…
…and not the exception
Until they. Until we decided
That we wanted to rely on ourselves
To sustain ourselves
To amuse ourselves
To sacrifice others as we choose ourselves.
We told God, “Inheritance, now.
‘K, thanks. ‘K, bye.
And we walked away and left God alone.
We spent up our inheritance then leveraged our soul
Drifting farther into horrors of our own design
As God looked across what we had done
A divine heart breaks.
Unwilling to simply leave us to suffer
The perpetual affliction we so richly deserve
The Son says, “I am…
Here” And he wades in to the mess we’ve made
Reminding us of the world that was and inviting us to
Have God as our source…for everything.
Still we want to sustain ourselves
To sacrifice others as we choose ourselves
So we sacrifice another,
As God looks on… A Cross
The darkness swallows up the earth again
Oh, God. What have we done?
The Light was not dead.
Despite our hubris, our treachery, our gift of destruction
The Son we killed could not be stopped
Returning from the grave
God’s deep desire for our return could not be quenched
It reached into the wreckage and
Pulled out our remains
Breathed life in them again
The Light was not dead
No sooner had God built the temple not made with hands
Then we looked at our redeemer and said,
“We want to sustain ourselves; ‘k bye.”
The divine heart breaks...
…Still if we come to our senses
Remembering a God who sought us
And we turn our face to look…
The instant we step toward that grace
While we are still a long way off
God sees us and
Full of compassion runs to us
Casts off our shame, our doubt, our cures
We live. Christ took the cross
From the book Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End, author Atul Gawande states “We’ve been wrong about what our job is in medicine. We think our job is to ensure health and survival. But really it is larger than that. It is to enable well-being.” Gawande is a surgeon who has worked with hundreds of patients in their final years, and he stresses the importance of the quality of days, versus the amount of days people have left. Often, it is the interaction with others that add purpose and meaning to one’s life.
Throughout scripture, God is adamant in proclaiming that those who worship him must always protect and serve the most vulnerable among us, especially orphans, widows, and immigrants.[i] If we hope to fully experience the blessing of God’s love and grace, we must be willing to embrace and accept our human vulnerabilities. This week’s blog on the Gift of Vulnerability is a collaborative effort, reflecting a dialogue between Trinity Senior Pastor, Tracey Leslie and Neetu Sinha, a local immigrant.
See what people are saying about Trinity. Read and watch testimonies.