April 2, 2010-Vigil of Holy Saturday

April 3, 2010

Deep in the tomb of remembrance
stripped bare and austere…
the cold gray stone slab receives
a corpse of the King
tortured and taunted in abject humiliation
for the LOVE He brings
to renew the face of the Earth.

For my part… may I carry
the myrrh and aloes?
Even a hundred-weight burden
will be less than Yours
borne while hanging
in agony on the tree.
So sweet the fragrance
these spices offer
to the bitter…
the coffin
of our dreams and desires…
expecting a Warrior-Messiah,
to mow down the multitudes
with their wounds showing–
in denial.
What more do You please…
than to be…
the gall that bites,
the wine that intoxicates,
while we lead lives
bearing the cross of doubt,
grief, and un-belief?
Where is the sweet consolation
of Your voice… Your touch…
reaching into the grim and desolate places
we hide from even ourselves…
in pride, thinking we control
the destinies given us:
to die naked
going to the grave,
cold as the body before our eyes
on its way to the abode
of the already-sacrificed.
The hole
left by Your absence
is as stark as the stone…
we groan
from the contusions and stripes
on ourselves and Your shell…
as we lie prostrate, in hell,
before the altar of the Creator
in supplication… the grate
of the fires martyring
Your servant, Lawrence,
now the purgatory of our lives…
it, too, cold as the metal refined
in the furnace of Your LOVE…
only experienced by dying
to our egos… allowing You inside
to flame the intense heat
of our passions and fervor.
No other way… than through Christ–
and He, crucified…
to find the abundant life eternal!
Having victory over death–
by Your Resurrection:
we arise to the dawning
of a bright Easter Sun…
My God! You’ve won!


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