Holy Week

                    God, save me from the lie of an acceptable death, the heroic sacrifice (too many spent), a crazed god's scheme to sell forgiveness for blood. Save me from the anticipated gesture, the deal agreed upon. Deliver me instead into truth's sordid lap, the bewildering perversion that comes of fear, and death its only issue, violence its only hands and feet; the way we judge, the way we think we can. Let me not blame this on you.

No: only in the jumpy torchlight of the unnecessary flames of another lynching, another rape, a war, an execution, the tragedy of power, only here in honest horror do we see your awful love in all its range, your inexplicable grace unbending, mercy nailed and crowned with thorns. Only here in our deepest depravity, not planned, not paid for, but accepted, can I know love strong enough to save me and all this trembling world not from that but this, not from the fear of hell but from the hell itself of fear. Only in my deepest loss, and yours, do I see love win and raise me up to something new and really alive.

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

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