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In the catholic telling of the Passion
Toward the end of the trail of tears.
Simon of Cyrene lifts the Cross
At this point really just a 12-foot railroad tie,
From the back of Yeshua of Nazarene.
or Jesus (of Home Depot),

or George (of Minneapolis) if you prefer, it couldn’t matter less
To the story.

I remember when I first began to do battle
with the demons my walk through the garden borne
Driving to a rustic church in the next town over,
On a Saturday morning.
That featured, not a mural, or a window, or a statue,
just a simple postcard of this scene in the nave.

This ordinary scene of humanity and divinity
Two guys lifting a heavy, pressure-treated, cypress log on an ordinary Thursday morning.
To build a church
In which, one day,
I might, if not exactly worship,
At least notice and perhaps, confess my sins
Whispering the greatful burning desire of another to help
in the unburdening of them.

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Now read this

Abolish 13? Ratify 28th? Burn it down?

The news out of Minneapolis this morning has my heart sick, my mind angry, and my body reaching for my copy of The Fire Next Time. I do not have an answer, and I am so, so tired reading of another American family weeping over the body of... Continue →