As we now learn to welcome and embrace, We recognize that sin still will infect Our hearts and homes and homelands, and we face The difficulty, striving to connect What oft is torn asunder, faith and works, With faith our present work is not in vain. We serve the one who neither shuns nor shirks His sheep, and he will soon remove the stain Of sin, for he in justice shall return, And all that now is wrong he will set right. We wait and hope, our hearts within us burn- ing for the dawn’s approach, the end of night. All our division then will be undone, The broken brought together by the Son.
Let now the hard soil of our souls be tilled, And let us not resist the needed change. Let not another be unjustly killed. Let what is common now become most strange. Lord, show us our responsibility And lead us in compassion. Let the cries For justice not end in futility But further freedom as our pray’rs arise. Let us be quick to listen, slow to speak, And slow to anger with no room for sin. Let those with power learn to live as meek, And let this lifelong journey now begin. Teach us to meet all souls with love and grace As we now learn to welcome and embrace.
What good are words, and what will they achieve? For they are small before the might of hate And faulty too: they bend beneath the weight Of generations. Can we e’er relieve The burdens under which our brothers heave, All hoping against hope that soon the wait Will end in rest, in justice, in a state Of peace and love and welcome? Now, we grieve, For hope remains a hope, a thing unseen, Desire unsatisfied, dream unfulfilled. Bring justice, Lord, grant peace, and intervene. Convict and humble us till we are stilled. Let tragedy be not the final scene. Let now the hard soil of our souls be tilled.
Past midnight, pen in hand and mind awake. I write line one but draw a blank at two, Unsure of what to do. Imagination bade me start to make This brief display of words, but I must do Some work to see it through.
Not ev’ry line is given. Directed, but not driven.
But so it is with you. You work in us to will and work yet do Not call us to inaction. We must take Our crosses, follow you, And trust when we can’t see because you do. And you will ne’er forget, fail, nor forsake.
As Hopkins saw, your grandeur does not pale, Does not diminish though we sin and stain Ourselves and earth. We work in pride and pain. And through it all, your purposes prevail. How can it be that we, so foul and frail, Do not exhaust your grace? For grass and grain And goodness still persist. You give us rain And wrap us in provision. Though we fail To follow, you forgive and give us love, Your character conveyed in ev’ry sign And ev’ry word, a freshness undefiled. Decay, despair, and death touch not the dove Who brings in darkness brightness so divine And choicest comforts for the fearful child.
This poem was inspired by Gerard Manley Hopkins’s poem “God’s Grandeur,” drawing on some of his themes and imagery and asking some further questions.
Comparison, come to kill again, quick
To cripple, curse, cry foul, foment, and feed
Confusion till desire seems more like need.
God’s grace grows grey, his manna makes me sick
Even as it sustains me. Still I stick
Stock in distinctions, hear his call but heed
Too my brother’s call. He blossoms. I bleed.
Truth bids me trust. I tremble and cry, “Trick!”
Dethrone, O God, the god of my making,
Myself as ultimate, false comfort, chief
Of my affections choking out true love,
Unlovely leech of joy. Set to breaking
My false assumptions and restore belief
In your good will and all my lot thereof.
To know your grace suffices e’en for me
Requires that I must be
Convinced of my inadequacy.
In weakness, I am free to see
I fear to pay the price, but I fear too
The cost of trading true
Hope for futility. Help me to
Accept the things I cannot do
And trust in you.
I have watched this wound heal for a week or so.
Day to day, I do not detect
movement of skin,
change of shape,
decrease of pain.
Then one day, I do.
The gap is less wide, the depth less deep.
dead skin darkens,
new skin appears.
It is not finished. It is still sore.
I wanted the process to be faster.
Nevertheless, the process is working.
Healing is occurring.
He is mending,
Perhaps the same is true of my heart.