Category: Poetry

Caesar Church

‘I am shocked that you are turning away so soon from God, who called you to himself through the loving mercy of Christ. You are following a different way that pretends to be the Good News but is not Good News at all. You are being fooled by those who deliberately twist the truth concerning Christ‘ – Paul, in Galatians 1:6-7 NLT

‘If Paul were here, we’d be getting a letter‘ – seen on a T-shirt

Paul came to see his planted church.

He passed within its doors.

Immediately his heart did lurch

to see so many whores.

For ‘round the room there was a sight

that chilled him to the bone:

on each one’s head there was a crown

like Caesar’s very own.

So Paul cried out, ‘How can this be?

You’re purchased at a price!

From empire’s grip you’ve been set free,

your King is Jesus Christ!’

But no one listened that sad day.

They simply turned to sing

a song of praise, and raised a glass

to Rome’s pathetic king.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

The Temple of the Lord

The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: ‘Stand in the gate of the Lord’s house, and proclaim there this word, and say, ‘Hear the word of the Lord, all you people of Judah, you who enter these gates to worship the Lord. Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Amend your ways and your doings, and let me dwell with you in this place.  Do not trust in these deceptive words: “This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord.” For if you truly amend your ways and your doings, if you truly act justly one with another, if you do not oppress the alien, the orphan, and the widow or shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not go after other gods to your own hurt, then I will dwell with you in this place, in the land that I gave to your ancestors forever and ever.”

– Jeremiah 7:1-7 NRSVUE

We are safe within these walls.

This is what we tell ourselves.

Inside we are secure, the chosen

people of God. So let us sing

and pray and speak, thankful

for the glory revealed in

The Temple of the Lord,

The Temple of the Lord,

The Temple of the Lord.

But someone cracked a window,

and through the bastard cleft

came sounds to drown

our vain assemblies. For our songs

oppress the stranger. Our prayers

neglect the orphan. And our words

(and silence) do great violence in

The Temple of the Lord,

The Temple of the Lord,

The Temple of the Lord.

Come then, let us cast aside

allegiance to all lesser gods.

Let us now amend our ways

and means. Let us put to death

our violence and our silence,

that once again our God may dwell in

The Temple of the Lord,

The Temple of the Lord,

The Temple of the Lord.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Pastor Brent

Alternates

We are the fools.

The alternative to the world’s wisdom.

When they say hate, we say love.

When they say hawk, we say dove.

When they say rich, we say poor.

When they say fight, we end the war.

When arrogance sweeps o’er the land,

We bend our knees and fold our hands.

When they seek power over others,

We walk beside sisters and brothers.

When they depend upon our silence

Amidst injustice, greed, and violence,

We raise our voices loud and strong,

To praise what’s right, and stop what’s wrong.

And when they hope in earthly things,

We put our faith in Heaven’s King.

Who rode an ass, and bore a cross,

To show the world what it has lost.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Ascension Day

‘Hail the day that sees him rise,’
so goes the ancient Hymn,
of Jesus triumph o’er the skies
to raise the life of men.

Upward he soars on heaven’s wings
to take his rightful throne,
as Seraphim and Cherub sing,
‘The King’s come to his own!’

Yet what’s this on his hands and side,
These marks he deigns to bear?
His wounds he keeps and glorifies –
As proof that heaven cares.

And thus he sits at God’s right hand
both human and divine.
The space between forever spanned
by love’s boundless design.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Across the Sea

If I were born across the sea

I wonder just what I might be?

Would I believe that I was right,

Deep in my bones, so sure, despite

The fact that others disagree

Who live so far across the sea?

Would I raise my flag above the rest,

Believing my land to be blessed

Above all others, and be for

Each and every bloody war

Waged against my enemies

Who live so far across the sea?

How loudly would I shout my creed

At those who differently believed,

Or would I seek to understand

The faith of those in foreign lands

And share my own on bended knee

With those who live across the sea?

But living this side of the sea

I need not think so needlessly.

For surely all my thoughts are true.

The one who has to change is you.

Or perhaps you think the fool is me,

Who lives so far across the sea?

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Filthy Things

I see before my eyes a grand parade

led by warriors, young and brave,

idols in a land that needs them to be,

yet cares little if they live or die

so long as they inspire love.

Love for filthy things, like war,

death, and violence, disguised

as honor, bravery, and sleek metal

bearing grand designs and logos.

Faces like sharks, mouths like lions.

The crowd cheers as these pass by,

swallowing whole the vicious lie

that has in time left millions dead

and now misleads some millions more

along this fatal route called war.

This horrid scene disguised as bliss

betrays the world like Judas’ kiss.

So stand apart my friend and sing

a love song to a different king –

lest you be touched by filthy things.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Inspired by 2 Corinthians 6:14-18 NLT

Isaiah 40:3

‘In the wilderness,’ the prophet said,

‘Prepare the way of the Lord.’

He said, ‘In the wilderness.’

Not in the grip of power,

or the company of politicians.

In the wilderness of powerlessness.

Not in the boardroom,

or the palaces of oligarchs.

In the desert wastes of poverty.

Not in the councils of generals,

or the military command centers.

In the abandoned places of empire.

Not in the mansions of the rich,

or the lifestyles of the famous.

But among those of no renown.

There you must prepare the way.

Go therefore, to these latter haunts,

and make preparation.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Minneapolis

Helpless.

That’s how this feels,

as jackbooted thugs

pummel faces with fists,

knees,

bullets.

And so I kneel

asking for the miracle

that will awaken your Church,

that silent behemoth that sleeps

beneath the din

(so enraptured with civility)

(or else captured by anti-Christ)

to rise once more

and shake the world

with love, faith,

and strong determination.

Perhaps we are not

helpless after all.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Perspective

‘All that is necessary to make any landscape visible and therefore impressive is to regard it from a new point of view, or from the old one with our heads upside down. Then we behold a new heaven and earth and are born again…’ – John Muir

Sometime, when conditions are just right,

go and stand on the edge of a creek bank

when the sun is bright with morning

gladness and the water still and dark.

Ease your head over the ledge,

just a bit, and see yourself

staring back from the water,

peering upward, at you, beyond you.

Keep looking and notice above you –

beneath you, marvel of marvels! –

the ecstasy of a cerulean sky

dappled with clouds.

Observe the crowns of trees

rooted in the heavens,

drinking deeply of glory.

Notice too the sun, shining up at you,

as if this were the way of things.

Just for a moment,

or several if you can spare them –

and by all means, spare them –

allow yourself to fall skyward

into a world turned upside down.

And consider the curious fact

that this is indeed the way of things:

that in truth we touch the sky

as often as we touch the ground.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Hymn for Peace

Sung to the tune of How Great Thou Art

O Lord my God, when I, in awesome wonder

Consider all the beauty of your world

And yet look on, at all its splendor plundered

By those who hate and maim and bomb and kill

Then sings my soul

O God, how can this be?

God bring us peace. God bring us peace.

Then sings my soul

How long until we’re free?

God bring us peace. God bring us peace.

Around the world, I see the weapons of war

Wielded without a hesitating thought

As hell rains down on precious lives you died for

Who with your blood, salvation has been bought

Then sings my soul

O God, how can this be?

God bring us peace. God bring us peace.

Then sings my soul

How long until we’re free?

God brings us peace. God bring us peace.

And when I think of Jesus’ blunt refusal

To wield the sword against his fellow man

I wonder how his church gives her approval

To those who do; I cannot understand

Then sings my soul

O God, how can this be?

God bring us peace. God bring us peace.

Then sings my soul

How long until we’re free?

God bring us peace. God bring us peace.

As we await, the day of coming glory

When Christ shall come, and put an end to strife

We pledge ourselves to live a better story

To be the ones who treasure every life.

Still sings my soul

O God, how can this be?

God bring us peace. God bring us peace.

Still sings my soul

How long until we’re free?

God bring us peace. God bring us peace.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent