Trade Offs
by Melissa Borgmann
What if we stepped into that space?
Recognized our nearness to death:
Thorny piercing of skin
Nails through the wrists
(because the palms would not have worked, right?)
See this:
Sharply hammered iron pins that are driven through epidermis, veins,
move over bone.
Yes.
Affixed.
[Can you imagine the craftsman who forged that spike?]
Lungs collapsing from the tug of ribs
Pulled down by the weight of legs
Chest cavity crushing spirit.
And we try to breath.
We try.
He tries. We try.
Something like blood or sweat trickles down from the temples.
Do you get a headache? Appropriate, or not?
Yes, “This crucifixion gives me a headache.”
[“Me, too.”]
Pain is so inconvenient.
Suffering so easily remedied by, say, a cocktail?
A glass of wine appears.
The bitter irony of drink.
This is my body, given up for you.
This is my blood, shed for you and for all, so that sins may be forgiven.
Do this in remembrance of me.
Have the meal, it is much easier.
Amen.
Read more on Melissa's blog
No comments:
Post a Comment