Teach us the Holy Songs,
the Sacred Songs,
the Love Songs.
Teach us the Holy Dance,
the Sacred Dance,
the Love Dance.
Teach us to Think like You,
to Speak like You,
to Look like You.
Yet...
I want to Heal like you
but I don't want my hands pierced.
I want to Walk where you would send me
but I don't want my feet pierced.
I want to Love like you
but I don't want my heart pierced.
I want roses
but not a thorny crown.
You come with so much baggage, Jesus.
Must I carry it all?
Must I be tired, dusty, homeless, crucified
and eat with sinners?
I will sing them your song
as long as I can do it from a distance.
I will show them your dance
as long as I can dance alone.
It's that looking like you part
that is the rub.
You were plain.
How do I look like you,
love like you,
speak like you
if I do not allow myself
to be you to this world?
Yes, there's the rub.
Whole church movements
have sprung up to avoid
facing that detail.
If I take you
I take all your baggage.
All the forgiveness, grace,
hope and healing
and the unending supply
of people you care for
whom I may not.
Dirty feet in the lap,
hunger at the door,
hot tears demanding.
Your world has lepers.
L-e-p-e-r-s...
Still, my tongue is longing to
sing the Sacred Words.
My feet itching to know
the Holy Steps.
So teach me
your extraordinary plainness.
I'll find someplace to
put your things.
What are you going to do
with that hammer and those nails?...
Teach us the Holy Songs,
the Sacred Songs,
the Love Songs.
Teach us the Holy Dance,
the Sacred Dance,
the Love Dance.
Teach us to Think like You,
to Speak like You,
to Look like You,
.....Love like You.
Teach us to follow, pierced,
to lead this world, loving,
as we walk in your steps,
transformed.
(Holy Baggage by K.Cavanaugh LaMantia)
the Sacred Songs,
the Love Songs.
Teach us the Holy Dance,
the Sacred Dance,
the Love Dance.
Teach us to Think like You,
to Speak like You,
to Look like You.
Yet...
I want to Heal like you
but I don't want my hands pierced.
I want to Walk where you would send me
but I don't want my feet pierced.
I want to Love like you
but I don't want my heart pierced.
I want roses
but not a thorny crown.
You come with so much baggage, Jesus.
Must I carry it all?
Must I be tired, dusty, homeless, crucified
and eat with sinners?
I will sing them your song
as long as I can do it from a distance.
I will show them your dance
as long as I can dance alone.
It's that looking like you part
that is the rub.
You were plain.
How do I look like you,
love like you,
speak like you
if I do not allow myself
to be you to this world?
Yes, there's the rub.
Whole church movements
have sprung up to avoid
facing that detail.
If I take you
I take all your baggage.
All the forgiveness, grace,
hope and healing
and the unending supply
of people you care for
whom I may not.
Dirty feet in the lap,
hunger at the door,
hot tears demanding.
Your world has lepers.
L-e-p-e-r-s...
Still, my tongue is longing to
sing the Sacred Words.
My feet itching to know
the Holy Steps.
So teach me
your extraordinary plainness.
I'll find someplace to
put your things.
What are you going to do
with that hammer and those nails?...
Teach us the Holy Songs,
the Sacred Songs,
the Love Songs.
Teach us the Holy Dance,
the Sacred Dance,
the Love Dance.
Teach us to Think like You,
to Speak like You,
to Look like You,
.....Love like You.
Teach us to follow, pierced,
to lead this world, loving,
as we walk in your steps,
transformed.
(Holy Baggage by K.Cavanaugh LaMantia)
Not much writing time this month but I was reading a devotion that spoke of living loved and it made me thoughtful about how extraordinary our position is in the world. What a unique opportunity we have to be Christ's arms wrapped around broken people and to be broken ourselves, as bread, in sacramental love for all that is or would be His. I found this older posting and hope it makes you thoughtful. Blessings. kl
Posts
