A death in the family

After John 11 

Hearing his friend is ill, 

he does nothing, but

waits, surprising them all.

When he does come,

finally, the friend is

dead, four days dead and

in the tomb. Too late,

far too late, to heal.

The crowd follows as

he goes to the tomb;

the sister implies he

failed them all by 

waiting, that he could

have saved her brother,

his friend, because

nothing could be done

after death. Deeply moved,

he tells them to open

the tomb. He calls the man’s

name; the dead man rises

and walks, fully alive. 

We who are dead

hear our name called,

and we walk, 

fully alive.

 

Photograph by Wiki Sinaloa via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

Reaching Outsiders with Our Words – Warren Peel at Gentle Reformation.

 

Two Ways to Gauge Contemporary Issues in Theology – Daniel DeWitt at TheoLatte.

Down to the sea

After John 6:1-21 

Down to the sea we went,

down to the shore

down to the sea to sail,

to sail to Capernaum once more.

 

Dark it was, and stormy,

waves crashing at our ship;

we rowed against the waves and wind,

expecting we would flip.

 

Waves were smashing, winds were thrashing,

as misery gives way to fear,

and then we see him walking

on the sea, drawing near.

 

Do not be afraid, he says,

as he steps into the boat;

the winds die down, the waves subside,

once again we’re gently afloat.

 

Photograph by Forrest Moreland via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

Lord of Earth, Thy Forming Hand – poem by Robert Grant at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin).

 

The Death Culture of the UK – Stephen McAlpine.

 

O For a Closer Walk with God, by William Cowper – Anthony Esolen at Word & Song.

 

Divine Epigrams by Richard Crashaw – Sally Thomas at Poems Ancient and Modern.

A hillside Passover

After John 6:1-21 

We are on the hillside

by the Galilean sea,

a respite from the work,

a time to listen and to be.

 

As was always happening,

people come to seek 

healing, teaching, feeding

for the desperate, sick, and weak.

 

We all see them coming,

at the hour it’s time to eat; 

perplexed at what to feed them,

dismayed by such a feat.

 

A boy arrives with food,

five loaves and two fish,

to feed so many with such a meal

is someone’s ridiculous wish.

 

Have them sit, the teacher says,

as we stare at him in shock;

anyone else but him and

we’d be prone to mock.

 

Five thousand sit upon the hill,

waiting to be fed;

he tells us to serve the food

two fish, five loaves of bread.

 

The crowd is fed, and fed so well,

that everyone is sated;

we see our future tied to him,

our life and death are fated.

 

Photograph: Sea of Galilee by Yoav Aziz via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

The Idol of Popularity – Tim Challies.

 

“The Flower,” poem by George Herbert – Anthony Esolen at Word & Song.

 

Is Seminary Worth the Cost? – Guy Richard at Ligonier.

What am I doing here?

After John 5:1-17

What am I doing here,

this pool and its colonnades,

with all its filth, it smells,

its piles of human waste

and wasted humans, lame,

blind, sick, broken in body

and broken in spirit. I step

 

carefully, avoiding 

the humans infesting

this place, these people

desperate to be healed,

waiting for the waters

to stir, signaling the time

to heal. No waters stir

this day, but a man makes

his way through the crowd

of brokenness and disease,

the crowd parting like so

many droplets and waves,

this man stirring human

waters, reaching one man,

telling him to rise, take

his bed, and walk. 

 

The waters stir this day,

unlike any other day,

stirring

unlike any other day.

 

Photograph by Mitch Hodge via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

Breathbodyprayer – poem by Matthew Pullar at Kingdon Poets (D.S. Martin).

 

Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee – Anthony Esolen at Word & Song.

 

Corpus Christi: Three Sonnets on Communion – Malcolm Guite.

 

Some thoughts on autism – Bill Grandi at Living in the Shadow.

Waiting among the colonnades

After John 5: 1-17 

Inside the walls,

inside the gate

that Nehemiah built,

the lame, the sick,

the injured gather,

waiting among

the colonnades,

waiting for

the stirring

of the waters,

believing that

the first one 

in the pool

is healed. 

The man too lame

to make his way

despairs; no one

is there to carry

him to the waters,

no one to help,

no one to pick him

up and help him or

even throw him

into the waters.

On a day like

any other, a day

of despair, a man

comes to him and

says get up, get up

and walk. He stands,

picks up his bedding,

and walks, watching

the living, stirring

water walk and

disappear among

the crowds.

 

Photograph by Nadim the Dream via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

The Importance of Running a Rigged Race – Joshua Zackal at the Institute for Faith, Work, & Economics.

 

3 Patterns That False Teachers Follow – Matthew Harmon at Crossway.

 

A Sonnet for Trinity Sunday – Malcolm Guite.

 

The Fruit of the Spirit: Introduction – Robb Brunansky at The Cripplegate.