Outside the gate

After Hebrews 13:1-19 

As the bodies of the animals

were bound outside the camp,

so, too, was his body sacrificed

outside the gate. So, we go 

outside the gate, go to him,

and we bear the reproach

he bore, the reproach 

he endured. We are with him,

outside the gate;

we are with him,

outside the city.

No city lasts except

the eternal city.

All will pass

into dust, except

the eternal city.

 

Photograph by Nikola Knezevic via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

Thank God for ‘Doubting’ Thomas – poem by Malcolm Guite.

 

‘Discipleship’ is Life – T.M. Suffield at Nuakh. 

 

Rest – poem by David Whyte.

 

Snow – poem by Louis MacNeice at Rabbit Room Poetry.

The pleasing sacrifice

After Hebrews 13:1-19 

You want to make 

a sacrifice that’s pleasing?

Well, then, love your brother. 

Be hospitable to strangers.

Remember the prisoner

and the mistreated.

Honor marriage. Avoid

the love of money. Remember

those who lead you. And

obey them. Stick to the true.

Do good. Share what you

have. And pray, always.

That’s all you need to do.

No problem, right?

 

Photograph by Eliott Reyna via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

Daffodils – poem by George Mackay Brown at Kingsdom Poets (D.S. Martin). 

 

Letter #88: Why So Secular – Spencer Klavan at The New Jerusalem.

 

“Vanitas, Vanitatum,” poem by William Makepeace Thackery – Joseph Bottum at Poems Ancient and Modern.

 

Pruning – poem by Seth Lewis.

The open curtain

After Hebrews 10:12-25 

The curtain opens,

no longer veiled,

no longer a barrier,

it opens to the holy places

previously unapproachable.

Now we draw near

with a true heart.

Now we draw near

with full assurance.

Now we draw near

with a clean heart.

Now we hold fast

to the promise of faith.

Now we encourage

one another to do good.

Now we walk forward

together, as the One

has made us.

 

Photograph by Nadine Marfurt via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

Current Events – poem by Jen Rose Yokel at Rabbit Room Poetry.

 

A sonnet for the Venerable Bede – Malcolm Guite.

 

Things an Evangelical Learned from a Catholic History of Europe – Louis Markos at The Imaginative Conservative.

The perfection

After Hebrews 10:12-25 

A single offering,

a single sacrifice,

most fragrant of all,

most pleasing of all, 

and then the offering,

the sacrifice, sat

at the right hand,

sat, waiting until

the footstool for his feet

was made, a footstool

of enemies, defeated.

His sacrifice perfected

all being sanctified,

perfected for all time,

no further sacrifice

needed or necessary.

It is finished.

 

Photograph by Milad Fakurian via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

The Unsung St. Nicholas – Joseph Pearce at the Imaginative Conservative.

 

Wandering in Silence – David Bannon at Front Porch Republic.

 

The Shepherd Boy – poem by John Bunyan at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin). 

 

That Time Paul Gave Timothy a Quote from Luke’s Gospel – Mitch Chase at Biblical Theology.

 

Responsibility and Blame Culture – Bill Grandi at Living in the Shadow.

 

The Conversion of John Randolph – Miles Smith at The Imaginative Conservative. 

 

A life eternal

After Hebrews 7:25-28 

This priest, this sole member

of the order of Melchizedek,

this king able to save those

who draw near, this priest

is holy. This priest is

innocent. This priest is

unstained. This priest is

separated. This priest is

exalted. This priest makes

no sacrifices, because

this priest was

the sacrifice.

 

Photograph by Jacob Bentzinger via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

The Martyr – poem by Herman Melville at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin).

 

Finding Crist in Isolation: A Sonnet for St. Julian of Norwich and A Sonnet for Ascension Day – Malcolm Guite.

 

On the Need to Reactivate Our Right Hemispheres – Eric Scheske at Front Porch Republic.

The problem of Cain

After Hebrews 11:1-4 

Each brings a sacrifice,

one, an animal,

the other, fruit.

Why was one more

acceptable than

the other? What 

was wrong?

The one brought

what was carefully

decided and chosen.

The other grabbed from

what was at hand,

without much thought.

 

The difference was 

the intent,

the care,

the heart.

 

Photograph by Xiaolong Wong via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

She Died Too Soon – Tim Challies.

 

Ancient Jerusalem: Not Where We Thought? – Nathan Steinmeyer at Biblical Archaeological Society.

 

‘Pillar of Salt’: A Poem on Lot’s Wife – Brian Yapko at Society of Classical Poets.

 

Becoming Writers Who Write the Truth Beautifully – Lara d’Entremont.

 

The Church of St. Mary Aldermanbury, Fulton, Exterior and Interior– Chris Naffziger at St. Louis

Patina.

Incensed -- poem by Mary Harwell Sayler at Society of Classical Poets.

I might, maybe

After Romans 5:1-11

Asked the question, strictly

rhetorical, of course, perhaps,

would you sacrifice your life

for someone else? Well, it

depends. I might, maybe,

if (always an if) someone

was good, was righteous,

was without stain or flaw.

Asked another way:

would you sacrifice

your life for someone else,

like a rapist,

a child abuser,

a human trafficker,

a fraud, a felon,

a murderer,

a pimp, a pusher.

Would you sacrifice

your life for

a cheat, a liar,

a homewrecker, a bully,

a heretic, for the man 

(or woman) who cut

you off in traffic?

Crazy, right?

Well, someone did.

Photograph by Chris Ensey via Unsplash. Used with permission.

After the voice

After Genesis 22:1-14 and Hebrews 11:17-19

After my name is called

I drop the knife, hearing

the clatter on the stones

and the ram bleating

in its crown of thorns

I fall to my knees,

weeping, and reach

to the boy’s arm,

grasping

it as the sob breaks

from my throat.

I hear the sob

from the stone

Photograph by Circe Denyer via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

On the stone

After Genesis 22:1-14 and Hebrews 11:17-19

He stands quietly, silently

as he finds himself lifted

to the stone and told to lie still

he watches the hands

bind him with rope

he says nothing but sees

the knife as it’s pulled

from its sheath, glistening

in the flashing sunlight

as the knife is raised

above him he closes

his eyes and waits

for the pain that

without warning

doesn’t come, stopped

by a voice to his father

by his father

Photograph by Petr Kratochvil via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.