April 1, 2007

by The Rev. Constance Jones

O God, it was a king that we asked for.
A king like David, strong, a poet, blessed,
Fair-haired, blue-eyed, and stronger than we are,
More wise, awake while we could be asleep.

Our hopes are pinned on this most perfect Son,
Who’ll give us answers far beyond our grasp.
Give rules for all occasions, keep us from
The agony of indecision and
The weight of making choices on our own.

A king! A king anointed by the Lord!
An end to all our warring ways, and hates
That born of human frailty, plague our days
And keep us far from focusing on you.

A king! A king is what we need right now!
And here he comes, I see, around that bend!
The robes, the crown, and all that we, though blind,
And paralyzed of soul, will clothe him in.

A King like David, yes, and surely he
Will answer all our earnest prayers that we
Will be protected, kept in places sure,
Where victory’s always our apportioned lot.
That we are right when other folks are not.

I see him now! He’s riding with his friends,
And those of us who’ve waited years and years
To be delivered from the weight and tears
Of this poor sorry world of ours, are now
Ecstatic, standing on our toes to see
The halo on the one who comes from God.

Stand back! He’s coming closer! Let me see!
Throw coats and flowers down before him, for
His sacred feet must never touch the ground!
Cry out your praise! Ring bells! For he has come
To take the Holy City from the hands
Of all that’s dark and evil, cold and rank.
He’s here! I want to touch him but the crush
Of frenzied men and women holds me back.

Oh! Now he’s passing, and I touch his cloak;
I catch a whiff of something I can’t name,
A scent, a touch, a blessing – flown so soon,
For disappointment now descends on me.

Because he’s gone and all I see’s the close
Of crowd, the crush; and far beyond, up there,
A cloud of darkness more than ever earth
Has seen before, a leering grin of God’s
Most heinous enemy, the Evil One.

Oh Christ, I see a hill, and clamoring crowds
Who beg for blood and cheer for vengeance now.

Oh God! We mustn’t kill our king! Oh no!
That cloud! His blood! It cannot be that we
Must see our Savior hung upon a tree!

It’s victory we thought he’d lead us to,
Not this. It’s certainty we wanted, loud hurrahs.
If this is how they treat the Son of God,
What does it mean for us, who flow’red his path?
We walk his path? A cross awaits us too?

Oh God, I hear the sound of nails in wood.
And I myself am pounding in the nails
That crush my King, my Jesus, all my hope.

Oh God, it’s getting dark, and deep beneath
My feet, I feel a tremor, fear the Pit
That reaches up from hell to claim my King.

O Holy One, we pray that you will save us,
Walking as we are along the road
That your dear Son is walking, yes for us.

We pray that from this broken dream, this cross,
Deliverance comes, as only God conceives.

But as for us, imagination fails,
Along with hope, control and politics.
Forsaken, scorned, defeated with your Son,
Into your hands, O God, we lay it down.

Back to the index of Connie's Sermons