Unfolding Light

          As they went out,
          they came upon a man from Cyrene named Simon;
          they compelled this man to carry his cross.
                       —Matthew 27.32


Let me be Simon of Cyrene,
and carry your cross,
and embrace my death.
Draw me to bear the weight of it,
to walk with you in your suffering,
not a spectator but a companion
yoked with you under the cross.
Jesus, let me come into your life:
your miracles, your suffering,
your prayer, your death,
your rising.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Jesus, arrested, remains calm.
But I panic.
Jesus, I wonder at your strength.
How do you do that?
I marvel at the love
with which you treat even your captors.
Who are you?
I doubt that I can actually follow you.
I am not that loving, that committed.
I haven’t paid enough attention.
I’ve hardly learned a thing you’ve taught me.
I try to be so forgiving, but—no.
I don’t know how you do it.
I don’t deserve your friendship.
I can’t claim to be close enough to you.
I’m not worthy to be called your follower.
Go away from me, I am a sinful man.
Who is this who so deeply astounds me?
I don’t know the first thing about him.
I don’t even know who he is.
I do not know the man!

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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On the eve of a boldly political action,
an act of nonviolent resistance,
in a boldly political religious ceremony,
the Passover celebration of liberation,
a family meal and a public act
that defy power structures,
intensely political—
Jesus does something profoundly personal:
he offers himself.
He doesn’t say “This is my rallying cry!”
or “This is my belief.”
He says, “This is my body and my blood.”
In the place of honor, dipping bread together,
he welcomes the one who will betray him.
Because only something this personal
will overcome the world.

Only love, and nothing outside the human heart,
will defeat evil.

Our political actions require personal presence.
Our personal acts have political power.

Our salvation is not ransom paid
but presence offered.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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          Pilate asked them, “Shall I crucify your King?”
          The chief priests answered, “We have no king but Caesar.”
                       —John 19.15


When we wave our palms
for the little man on the donkey
it is our No Kings protest,
our clear witness that we do indeed
have a king who is not Caesar,
whose reign opposes his,
whose mercy and generosity
conflict with the Emperor’s regime.
Our palms make it clear which king
we choose, and which we reject.
Those who side with the tyrant
will inject their politics into our religion,
and seek to direct our loyalties,
but we resist. We will not toe the party line.
We wave our palms for one sovereign alone,
the King of Love, king of our hearts.
Ride on, Jesus. Ride on.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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          Many women were also there…
          they had followed Jesus from Galilee,
          ministering to him.
                       —Matthew 27.55

Powerful forces, aligned with a tyrant,
seem to crush the bugs of love.
But the women, though overpowered,
are not overwhelmed.
They take action. They minister.
They do not expect to win,
but they stay faithful
to their outlaw sovereign,
the king of love.

There is no triumph,
only tragedy and sorrow.
This story will end badly.
But they have seen that death,
as of a grain of wheat, is transformation.
Even in their deepest loss,
their own kind of death,
they stay faithful, stay present.
For somehow, even here
in the face of evil, so does love.
Standing with them in this story
we know what they are about to discover:
this is not a story of victory,
but of resurrection.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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             “She bought it so that she might keep it
             for the day of my burial.”
                        —John 12.7

Mary knew.
She who had seen Jesus weep at the tomb,
who knew the coming of death like rain,
she knew.
She who had found salvation
not in a conqueror but a companion,
even in deepest suffering, she knew.
She who had see his hands tremble
at the tomb, who had watched him
make sure death was not the last, she knew.
Imagine seeing him as she did,
everything in the light
of his gathering death:
all of his words, his miracles,
the acts of a doomed man,
approaching his death with love.
Mary had no words,
knowing the scorn that would come;
but only acts,
which could not be refuted,
a tender touch, intimate,
honoring, loving, serving, mourning.
Then he, too, would pass this grace along
and wash and wipe dear feet,
for buried in her love,
he knew.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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We wave our palms at the foot of the cross.
We sing of our delight, with such despair.
Joyous, we are grateful, and we worship you.
Brokenhearted, we confess
we crucify you, and we repent.
We clutch our palms as you bear the cross.
Swept up, we join each procession.
This is our song of mixed emotions,
our mixed motives, our mixed-up lives,
mixed with your grace.
“Hosanna,” we cry. “Save us!”

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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The tattered little man rides his donkey,
as if a king.
Onlookers humor us. “Hail!,” they laugh,
pouring another beer.
He is the farthest from their minds.

But he is not far from their hearts.
He is there, calmly enduring our evil,
the raggedy dreamer
peacefully overpowering the world’s deep sickness.
He is there, enthroned in our broken depths,
his spirit rising in the worst of us,
smiling, with light in his eyes.
He is there, laughable,
standing firm amidst all that is wrong with the world,
still loving, still undefeated.
Nothing, not the most powerful armies
or heartless tyrants, nor the most profound evil
or the forces of death itself, can stop him
from putting an arm around your shoulder.

This is his reign, our ridiculous king,
still wounded, bearing his cross,
still rising from the grave,
raising us out of ours,
defeating our evil before we begin,
conferring upon us by divine decree
his perfect, gentle blessing,
giving us life that nothing can conquer
and—if we will receive it—
the grace to be faithful subjects
in his miraculous domain.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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         By a perversion of justice
                  he was taken away.
                           —Isaiah 53.8


Don’t blame the cross on God,
on some crazed deity’s scheme
to sell forgiveness for blood.
That’s a lie.
Jesus’ death wasn’t God’s plan:
it was ours.

This is the story of our fear,
and fear’s depravity and violence.
It’s the story of how we judge,
and think we can,
the portrait of fear’s only hands and feet:
curses, weapons, prisons, blood.
Forget your wearable crucifixes:
this is every rape and lynching,
every put-down, every beating,
every authoritarian act.
Look at the news: it’s that.

And it’s the story of another way, God’s way,
God’s unfailing love toward us,
and the Way God invites us to follow,
to thread all this brutality
with gentleness and blessing.

Notice the Two Ways.
Be astounded either way.
Make your choice.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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        Out of the depths I cry to you, O God.
                         —Psalm 130.1

I am searching for a mouth
          to speak my sadness.

I am looking everywhere for a throat
          to carry my song.

I am seeking a language
          with words for my longing.

So badly I need a heart
          to hold this love.

What will bear it?
          What will do?

Only the Body of the Beloved,
          the faithful through the ages,

the ancestors, all beings—
          the body of the whole of the universe.

I am searching you, Beloved,
          listening, open,

for you will be my speaking,
          my heart, my going forward.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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