Lent: Man of Sorrows 6

And keep –
    keep me, keep watch, keep hope.
The pains that crush me are like pricks beside
Your agony, and yet
          You hold
arms out as though to gather in
more pain, more shame, and thus
           more me.
Man of sorrows,
        what a name,
        what a scheme
  that stretches out the heavens
  yet does not scorn these nails.
                                               Take
my proud sobbing, my heart’s throbbing; take
all my attempts to rise with Self.
Enfold me in Your scars and sing
      Your grace
    through endless days.

Søren (After Rowan Williams’ “Rublev”)

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http://philosophynow.org

The Messiah came one day, tattered in Adam’s rags,
ragged and anxious from the moment of sin,
sick nearly to death.

I said, My father has betrayed you
and I have chased dead beauty.
Sit ragged with me by my hearth.

I too wear scars: do you know them?
These the contours that choice has worn
and the schisms of my youth.

Sit, Christ said, eternally. My hands have scars to hold.
Come, throw past curses into iceworn fields;
now is the moment of eternal breath.

See “Rublev” by Rowan Williams here.