Reflection in response to Proper 19, 17th Sunday after Pentecost, Year C
Jesus’ long line coming before him, just like us, includes:
Moses being told by God to get down off the mountain
to stop the golden calf, Jeremiah speaking of God’s anger
at foolish people, psalmists singing of people, us, gone astray.
And then there are those who grumble because he dares
to hang out with, even like, wrong people, you know
those who still make golden stock portfolios, who make fools
of themselves denying God and others, who wander off
from divine connection, maybe never seeking that gift
so they do not even know what they are missing,
until they meet Jesus.
That’s the point, right? Freshest recruits for spiritual awakening
are not among the practiced who already know
the answers everyone else knows, those running church affairs
who view order as the sign of their faithful stewardship,
or those who daily read their Bibles avoiding new ideas religiously.
Moses was not the only one who encountered stiff-necked people,
and their descendants are all too sure of themselves today.
A question for this time: would Jesus join us for worship
or would he be on the wrong side of town
hanging out on the street asking passersby for spare change
for homeless people, or joining protests against police
brutality in the ‘hood, or maybe drawing crowds in alleys
as he healed the sick, lame, blind, and lonely?
Brother Bayard Rustin praised angelic troublemakers—
he was one himself—and he knew heaven rejoiced
when someone cared more for healing a hurt
or righting a wrong than for living decently
and in the correct order.
God is indeed merciful, waiting patiently for us
to get things turned upside down by worldly standards,
that is, divinely right side up.
About this poem. . . It is easy to feel superior to those who questioned Jesus’ choice of companions, but do we really get the radical demand he places on us? How much time do we spend hunting for, caring for, the lost sheep, or do we just walk by them on the street?
©Robin Gorsline 2015 FaithfulPoetics.net
Please use the credit line above whenever this poem is published.