The Greatness of the Smallness of God

All the Christian songs proclaim
the greatness of our God
and all the songs
of all the worshippers
of all the other gods
likewise proclaim, like us
the greatness of their god.

Any old imagined god
might have created the universe,
the stars,
the milky way,
and everything else their science
can discover.

All would worship a great God
But who would dare believe
that God is small?
Who would be the heretic who’d say
the hands that built the universe
were once nailed to a cross?

All cry out in wonder at
the splendor of a king
clothed in majesty
but wonder’s not the common cry
at a king that’s clothed in nothing.
Though maybe it should be.

The irony of saying
that time is in the hands
of him whose hands are nailed to a cross
whose time has come
or the end has come
for him who is the end.

Or worse: one of the three-in-one
members of the God-head
feels abandoned by another
The lion nailed to a cross
looks like
a sacrificial lamb.

Behold, ye great ones
look on, ye wise
for though the heavens
declare his glory
they only tells us
half the story

We do not worship
like the rest
A God who’s strength
proves he is best
But we instead proclaim
the greatness
of the smallness of God.

a thousanD anD onE reasonS tO believE . 3

.gracE | reason threE
.grace workS
.what philiP yanceY calls thE mosT unnaturaL acT
seems to be
the only way
the world has a shot
at being saveD
from tit|for|tat
revengE
hatreD
the blaze of unforgivenesS
.maybe
jesuS knew something about the world
that we don’T
.maybe hE was a mystic
or someone crazy
or someone crazy wisE
but grace works
and we believed it
because we believed that jesuS
was a goD
.and we believed it
because we believe that jesuS
is goD

.1
.because i remember, i doubt
because i remember ,i have a duty to faith in chrisT
i remember the stories
i wrestle with the questions
even as i struggle to invent
a thousand and one reasons to hope
a thousand and one reasons to believE

a thousanD anD onE reasonS tO believE . 2

.morE | reason twO
.it feels like we were made for something morE
.everything about this world
is screaming out that there’s more to reality
than what we can touch
and see and hear
and taste & smelL

.trees are arrows
pointing up and pointing down
goD is all arounD

.1
.because i remember, i doubt
because i remember ,i have a duty to faith in chrisT
i remember the stories
i wrestle with the questions
even as i struggle to invent
a thousand and one reasons to hope
a thousand and one reasons to believE

a thousanD anD onE reasonS tO believE . 1

.blogs
from people who don’t like
the goD they find in the bible
who orders genocides
and tells his people
to even kill the babies
of their enemieS

.and i confess
my soul revolts in horror
that goD would order murder
and maybe more that i never noticed
beforE

?was it somehow (1)
not evil that goD did iT
?was it it evil (2)
and goD did it anyaY
?or was it evil (3)
and goD didn’t do iT

.no nonsense
it cannot be
that a deed is not objectively
bad or gooD
.it must be either good
or baD
.and no fair changing definitions
to make good mean ,,what goD does,,
and bad mean ,,what goD hateS,,
.that makes good and bad
indistinguishablE

for it seems that goD told us
both to love our enemies
and to kill them
and i’m pretty sure when jesuS said
to love our enemies
hE was probably intending ,,don,t kill them,,
as part of hiS orderS

.my soul revolted
my conscience screamed
for a few hours i think
i might have been an atheist
almosT

?why believE
?what good can there be in iT
besides avoiding
controverseY

.elie wiesel said
,,.because i remember ,i despaiR
.because i remember ,I have the duty to reject despaiR
.i remember the killers, i remember the victims
even as i struggle to invent
a thousand and one reasons to hopeE,,

.because i remember, i doubt
because i remember ,i have a duty to faith in chrisT
i remember the stories
i wrestle with the questions
even as i struggle to invent
a thousand and one reasons to hope
a thousand and one reasons to believE

.brokeN | reason onE
.the world is brokeN .we have some crazy intuition
that something in this crazy world has gone horribly wronG
.something somewhere somehow within us weeps
like we somehow know the world was meant

for more than thiS .like it was made for something betteR
,like wE were made for something better

,like we were made for something morE
.the fact that my soul revolts to what

the biblE says goD did itself is a remindeR
that something in the world

has gone horribly
wronG

Saturday

Saturday.
Day of rest.
The day that Jesus rested in the tomb.

Saturday.
Day of mourning.
The day after the day
    when all was lost forever.

Saturday.
Day after the end of the world.
The day after our hopes and dreams
    came crashing to the ground.

Saturday.
Day of sighs.
The day of re-examining the world
    and asking Pilate’s question
    What is truth?

Saturday.
Day of darkness.
The sun is shining
    but our eyes see only black.

Saturday.
Day of broken delusions.
The day we face the fact
    that none of it was true.

Saturday.
Day before Sunday.
The day before we disbelieve the impossible
    might be true..

Saturday.
Day before Sunday.
The day before we know
    the impossible is true.

Saturday.
Day of mourning.
The day before Sunday.

Home

By Rich Mullins.

I see the morning moving over the hills
I can see the shadows on the western side
And all those illusions that I had
They just vanish in Your light
Though the chill in the night still hangs in the air
I can feel the warmth of morning on my face
Though the storm had tossed me
‘Til I thought I’d nearly lost my way
And now the night is fading and the storm is past
And everything that could be shaken was shaken
And all that remains is all I ever really had
What I’d have settled for
You’ve blown so far away
What You brought me to
I thought I could not reach
And I came so close to giving up
But You never did give up on me
I see the morning moving over the hills
I feel the rush of life here where the darkness broke
And I am in You and You’re in me
Here where the winds of Heaven blow
And now the night is fading
And the storm is through
And everything You sent to shake me
From my dreams they come to wake me
In the love I find in You
And now the morning comes
And everything that really matters
Become the wings You send to gather me
To my home
To my home
I’m going home

Pottery

Kristen suggested I submit this to a literary magazine. I looked it up, and while cleaning it up some, I realized that it really answered well the questions that I had posed in Questions. But in a completely different way.

Constructing clay is patient work
Not too little or too much pressure
on the earthy wet
And you cannot rush
Else your work will collapse.

Carry clay with caution
lest it break
or lest it crumble.

Fragile clay are we
Patient, gentle hands has He. Continue reading

A poem for September 11

This is for the office workers
in the twin towers
and the pentagon.

This is for the passengers
on Flight 93.

This is for the firemen
and police officers
and EMTs
who risked their lives
and gave their lives for others.

This is for the American soldiers
who risked their lives
and some who died
for the cause of freedom
and the safety of others
in Iraq and Afghanistan.

This is for the Afghan and Iraqi citizens
who had their homelands invaded
and their homes bombed
by an overwhelming foreign power.

This is for the human beings
created in God’s image
who had their human rights trampled on –
the innocents who were tortured
in Guantanamo Bay.

This is for the innocents who were hurt
in Sadam Hussein’s reign
and in his removal.

This is for every person
who ever lost sleep
for fear their homeland would be attacked
or their home would be bombed
or their beliefs would get them killed.

This is for ever middle eastern American
who gets glared at by others
and every peaceable muslim
who is treated like the enemy.

This is for every middle eastern Christian
who gets glared at by others
the lovers of peace
associated with Christian America
who are treated like the enemy.

This is for everyone
who lost someone they loved
in a building or a plane
on 9/11/01.

This is for everyone
who lost someone they loved
on a day other than 9/11
or in a way other than the sadly-famous way.
who mourns alone
on that anniversary
whose nation mourns not with them.

May God have mercy on us all.

if You ever gave up on me

If You ever gave up on me
decided my fragile sinner’s heart
wasn’t worth the effort
that the diamond underneath
was really only dirt
and finally ran out of endless grace
if one day my sins hit four-nine-one
if one day your endless grace was gone
and You told me it was too late,
I could never again find redemption, well
…welcome to hell.

It would kill me; I would die
I’d quit on life
’cause I couldn’t be alive
or I’d wander the streets
weeping redemption
telling them not to take Your grace
so loosely
like I did
before it’s too late for them too.

It’s the prophets with the end ripped out Continue reading

Psalm Forty-Five One

and the riches of redemption
overflowed the broken notes;
the slave found himself a prince,
the one once dead, alive.
the mournful broken heart rejoices
and the humble poor believe.

And the theme once played
in a minor key
repeats in shades of grace;
the weakly-struck piano keys
now explode in the glorious theme
of the undeserving victor,
the prisoner now set free
and claimed by royalty.

and the kingdom of heaven grows
and I find Gods will being done
“on earth as it is in heaven”
and the grace of God refuses
to be contained in the heart of God
From the cross it explodes
And in God’s pain He screams
I LOVE YOU!
in words none can ignore.

And the garden tomb is empty
Christ the victor is alive
Sin is conquered, evil banished
God’s broken heart now beats again
Hatred’s crush, now gone too far
suffocates in the heart of grace.

And the guilty go free
Glorious unfair exchange
and the redeemed celebrate
in the land of mercy.