Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Vegetarian Jesus?


Jesus would have fit in so much better today had he been a vegetarian. I would have “got” Him easier. He would have fit in with the tender-eyed Jesus I grew up seeing painted lovingly carrying a lamb on His shoulders--not the Old Testament God who commanded Israel to slaughter bulls and lambs. If He were an animal activist, we would effortless understand Him in today's culture. That would clearly show His love and mercy.   

It would have been so much better if He had been Pacifist.  It would have made more sense if Jesus wasn’t the same God as the Old Testament God who told Israel to take up arms and slaughter all Canaanites--men, women and children. I don’t understand that God. 

I could understand Him so much better if He were like me. But when I read scripture I find He is not. He is not like me. And I am a very nice person. 

His ways are above my ways and His thoughts above my thoughts. He is a sovereign God who doesn’t play by my rules, nor does He ask my opinion to make rules. He doesn’t even seem to explain His ways to me very thoroughly.

But He is God and He requires my obedience even if I don’t understand. Even if I don’t particularly like His commands and think they are strange, unkind, harsh, judgmental, intolerant. And He commands that I love Him.

And I obey, not because I understand.  But because He is God.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Keene’s Requiem


For tiny eyes--sweet innocence, thy life is worth this dirge,
Crushing silence masks thy death, tis good that I can purge,
And voice thy tears and voice thy rage of Keene’s demonic scourge.
Palace of jackals, thieves, slaves! Within fine and foul merge. 
O holy city of chaos, with devotion thou dost cling 
to righteous shadows and remnant; thin, so thin thy string. 
Behold! thy angel of light! See his darkened wing!
Blind to children’s ashes, deaf to death knell’s ring.
Keene’s offspring imprisoned, by artful doctrines pent
in Ellen’s Sonless labyrinth, all smiling mirrors bent
in terroristic hubris, to cuddle with torment. 
And thus I cry. Alone, I cry my soulful Keene lament.