Unfolding Light

My Beloved,
I carry your body— how can this be?
           … what I can’t put together…
broken,            shattered,
                                            you and I both….

I climbed up, not far,
           yet            such unscalable height

to unfasten you,            break you loose—
           now so loose, so far           from us….

I carry your body— how can this be,
           you who have carried me?

your arms limp, your hands, your healing hands
           empty           of power, of grace

in death they touch me without blessing
           yet I am blessed

I try to drape your           hand           over my shoulder
           is it fantasy, selfish?           or just grief

I wrap you in death’s shrouds I wrap you in my
sorrow I want to wrap up these last days and throw
them away I want to wrap myself with you
           I would wrap you in           myself

oh, if I could only bury you in me
                      or me           in you

I place you in my grave           A stone
           is rolled in place
                      some day           I will join you

Now, Beloved,           I join you

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Oh, Jesus, what have you done?
Carried my burdens, every one,
All of my sorrow, all of my sin,
Like a mother gathering her children in.
    Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
    Nothin’ but your tender, tender love.

Oh, Jesus, what have I done?
Crucified my precious one.
I didn’t want to bear the pain or loss,
So I left you alone to carry the cross.
    Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
    Nothin’ but your sufferin’, sufferin’ love.

Oh, Jesus, what will you do?
Forgive me like you always do.
With not a word of wrath or blame,
You died with love gently sayin’ my name.
    Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
    Nothin’ but your precious, precious love.

Oh, Jesus, what will I do?
Give me the courage to follow you,
To give my love if I live or die,
And never again to crucify.
    Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
    Nothin’ but your dyin’, dyin’ love.

Here’s the sheet music.

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Religious leaders accused,
culture made excuses,
politicians gave orders,
people in the streets went along,
friends left him to the system,
and the army pounded nails.
Who do you blame for that?

We live in a cross-shaped world
that believes in the expedience
of other people’s pain.
The most injurious to God
are those with good reasons.

Even the most powerful
have only the power someone gave them.
What evil have I helped to empower?
What part of me helped create this evil?
Am I ready for it to be healed?

Just as we found ways, working together,
to do evil,
it will take a lot of us working together
to do good.

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