Why this cross?
this ornament of human suffering
in comfort and complacency
it can seem quite out of place
yet let one moment of tragedy
need or desperation come and
this cross is no longer a foreign land
but a shelter and home
a passage of power
and transformation–
is it magic?
some talisman?
so it would seem
as it is forged in gold
carved in wood
and fashioned in beads
strung on necks
and molded on rings
yet kneeling
silently
before the cross
I hear
the whispers
and struggle
of the world
as it wrestles with its horror
its daily news
of evil and death
cruelty and selfishness
politics and greed
ideological slaughter
and mass destruction
our grieving and loss
our starvation and calamities–
earths quake and worlds fall
within the cross
we are free to place our burden there
and leave as though it were some receptacle
some garbage pit or scapegoat
yet not for long
for His whispers
and movement and life
are too compelling
He calls
over and over
to visit
this strange
place of death
that leads to Life
entering the suffering
the solitude
the darkness
of his outstretched tomb
we answer his call
to pray
to trust
to stay
until wisdom
whispers
the promise
of new life
how long is
our suffering-
it is a moment
of grace—
then there is
no time
at all
no need-
we are completed
resurrected
in His love