Robes J.Orr
She grasped His robe as He squeezed past
Her dying, half-bled-to-death hand touched the hem
and His Kindness sealed the wound
that men had only deepened and danced on
with their formulas
and methods
They cast lots for His robe
At the foot of the cross
Thought they were being original and fun
Little did they know that in eternity their ideas
Had been seen and mourned
And the choice was made to rescue them
with His own hearts blood
from the evil of their own plans
Which they did not wish to be freed of
Did it smear on them
as they picked it up
from the ground?
The earth wisely absorbed it and was shaken to her
core
Knowing what they did not
He held their robes while their dogma stoned a man
dead
holding also the self assurance
that he was doing Gods will
and each bloody stone was a piece torn from the
heart of God
Did he notice the glory
on the face of the dying man?
Did he hand them back their robes
and tell them they had done a good job?
Did they really believe this as they walked away
or were they disturbed
to see their own half-dead heart desires
alive and well in the eyes of this worshipping
radiant soul?
Did they sleep in peace that night?
If there's anything I'm sure of
It's that I'm not sure
Not so sure
They cast lots over the next apostle
in the afterglow of Gods Glory
there in the upper room
They were so sure it would be
This guy that they liked
It all felt so good
If you would have told them Gods choice
You would have met with blank stares
Can't you just go along with things?
Do you have to be the problem person here?
Meanwhile, on the road to Damascus
God had His own choice of apostle
and the man who held the robes and killed saints
fell down and worshipped
and as his spirit came alive
His whole life of sure opinions died
because of the glory
Swallowed up in the Glory
Imagine the obedient heart in that man
Who went to Saul the murderer
And blessed Him in Jesus' name
I wonder if the apostles had already announced
their elected man
The great product of their official vote
I wonder if He struggled with this on his way over
The way I struggle
When we decide things
the way we do
I can see by the fruit of the new testament
who God's choice was
The uneducated men that set fire to the world
When told they were not to preach Christ again
Replied
"We must obey God rather than men."
If it is possible for men to make mistakes
Then why do we proceed as if they never do?
Trying a thousand different torturous cures
but leaving the bleeding woman worse than she was
And if the bleeding woman is still bleeding
Will we admit that and repent?
Or will we pretend our band-aids are doing the
trick?
Casting lots over robes and disciples
throwing stones in God's name
and in the end finding their own systems and
agendas
Of which they were so impassioned and sure
Not quite as fruitful
as following a carpenter around
to do things that make no sense to you at all
except you're sure He told you
All of these things I am sure of
Make me so unsure of all the things I used to be so
sure of!
That was what I was trying to say
I meant no disrespect
I don't know how to work these truths into a
formula
The living flowing nature of these truths defy the
sterile pretense of
religion
THis is all I know
That God's ways are different than mine
And I don't understand them
And if I'm to walk as His helper
And not His opposer
I must lay aside the assurance of my opinions
and receive that fisherman or murderer as my next
brother
Because he is JEsus at my door
I have faith in God's choices
But I don't trust in men's infallibility
to choose God's best for themselves
I don't know how to have faith in a system
That doesn't live or breath or have being
I confess that I am a cripple
who has never walked
along these paths
I don't know how to build a house here
and settle down, feel secure with what we're doing
I'm wobbling without the crutches of religion
He just knocked out from under me
and feeling nervous about leaning on a new pair so
soon
Maybe I need to keep walking and strengthening the
weak knees
before I can enter into a contract
To do things that seem like more of the same new
and improved ways
To fix that woman's worsening condition
Anything rather than crying out to Jesus for help
I don't always know my appropriate place in it all
But I think it might be
On my face
before the Lord
Praying to God
That our choices are wise
And we will receive whoever He sends us
However He desires them
Through any means He would choose
Orthodox or not
Donkey, whale, man, girl yelling smelling ugly cute
Ways I like,
ways I don't like
(Especially those!)
Amen
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