Saturday, April 23, 2011

We live in twilight (not the movie)

We live in the twilight of Holy Saturday. Unlike the disciples cowering in fear and agony and grief on this day, we know that Christ has risen, and that He promised He would return, but that was 2 millenia ago. This is an old and wrinkled problem that has preoccupied probably everyone who calls themselves a Christian ever since the first generation of disciples died without seeing His return. Generations upon generations of the faithful have taught their children to love and trust someone they've never seen with their eyes, and every one of us has struggled at some point with our personal reaction to that paradox.

I believe, and I believe strongly. I believe that I've seen Christ work in my life and that I've had times where I experience God's presence very vividly. But this is not a poem about that.

As if writing about this wasn't hard enough, I wrote it as a rondeau (see Paul Laurence Dunbar's "We Wear The Mask" for a waaaayyyyy better example of a rondeau).

we live in twilight

We live in twilight, already not yet
in the shadow of history we'd rather forget,
longing to see you, generations unseen
wanting to believe, to feel consciences clean...
in the hope that Your death paid our debt.

I have lived my life loving One that I've never met,
staking all on those promises, placing my bets
on One whose life is as real to me as a dream.
We live in twilight.

I do believe. Truly, I love Him, but yet
I chafe at His absence. He left and then let
His disciples believe He'd be back, that they'd see
Him emerging in clouds and that their faith would be
rewarded. I love Him, but I live saddened that
we live in twilight.

No comments: