Comparing Zacchaeus and Me
Pentecost 21; Luke 19:1-10
I, too, am a small person.
I have done my share of collaboration
with the invading powers,
but I avoid crowds, can’t climb trees,
don’t as a rule pursue
any visiting guru.
So how did I meet Jesus?
Seems he was always there,
though often I wasn’t.
Somehow he saw me,
invited himself to stay with me.
I served the bread and wine he shared.
Thank goodness, I didn’t have to cook –
I’m always more Mary than Martha.
Sitting at his feet, over the years,
I heard his words,
let myself be changed,
became more truly me.
Writing now, I try to share
the riches I have gained,
the wisdom I still hear from him.
Perhaps someone will recognize
who he is, or who they are,
or, even for a moment, say “Aha!”
Barbara Messner 22/10/2022
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Barb, poet priest 
I am so grateful when you are there, you know — there, in your poems. It is a gift beyond the gift that is your insight to the scripture.
LikeLike
Your comment is an “Aha!” moment for me. I recognize that the poems I feel are explorations I need are the ones where something has triggered the inner work of letting Scripture interact with my ongoing story, and where I have dared to be a bit vulnerable and self-revealing. That one began in the middle of the night which is often a clue that something deeper is emerging rather than me doing a weekly jigsaw puzzle juggle with themes from the reading and rhythm and rhyme, though sometimes insight sneaks in there and surprises me, when I thought the exercise was pedestrian.
LikeLike