For Holy Week, a poem and a story.
The art of restoration
When the stories we tell narrate the journey through triumph,
bread broken, wine shared, feet washed, head
anointed for the burial to come; from loyalty to
betrayal, into prayer, anguish and distress,
arrest and swords and clubs and an ear lopped off; brutal
violence of injustice, mocking and misunderstanding.
When the stories we tell narrate his journey and our
own, through the confronting reality of love
overflown, undermined, betrayed and mocked and
cut to the knees, nailed to those beams – yes, we
go with him, remembering – re-membering,
enacting, performing, inhabiting the story of love
we hardly understand, and which somehow will,
in the end, soar triumphant, carrying all in its wake.