faith over fear

5/27/21

I wrote this poem over an injustice committed against my family that has caused outrageous suffering.

 

Curt voices of prosperity

Shriek and shrill,

Intentions forsaking still,

The sound of the Psalter,

The conch shell of divinity.

 

Irrationality masked

As your brand of Christianity

Is the new reality.

 

Consequentialism

Shrinks the heart

But causes the mind to swell

Like tumultuous stirring

Deep within,

No words can tell.

 

Brigand Christians bellow

From their figureheaded bow,

“Full steam ahead!”

 

Their brothers and sisters—

A means-to-an-end—

Fitted like seamless sardines

In the ship’s cargo hold.

 

To religion they’re sold

Forced to row

But choose to suffer well.

 

Silence in suffering

Endures the deepest hell.

 

 

The Albatross

Shot out of the crow’s nest falls.

 

Across the swabbed decks of impunity,

Pride goes before a fall.

 

Your pirate promises,

Forgetting their injury,

Waltz off the plank of pedagogy.

 

The Holy Spirit grieved

At your forked-tongue

The night before

You “called an audible,”

Changing your script

To please the collective,

Instead of the individual.

 

Faith over fear

Takes the words of Christ, seriously.

 

To save the one

Out of the ninety-nine,

He speaks plainly,

Not mysteriously.

 

052721

2 Comments
Newest
Oldest Most Voted
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Jeremiah Courter
Jeremiah Courter
3 years ago

Beautiful and poignant.

11/5/24

Kernels of gold sowed in sweat. Embodied husks designed to protect. Multicolored grain, a heavenly harvest. The plague in the Garden— one locust started— the Reaper ransoms to forget.   A rotted ear only hears the screams of its own dissection, an eternity of introspection. Rows of corn restless with guilt. The cup of wrath…

Read More »

10/18/24

Christmas for Ginny has always been the most important day of the year. It’s a magical day when anything is possible, like the unprecedented miracle of God taking on human form; it’s when a supernatural star led the Magi to the infant God-man, lying helplessly in a symbolic feeding trough; and it’s when men met God face-to-Face in a humble manger to worship him and feed from him. Ginny loves Christmas for both its majestic beauty and historical truth. She understands, however, that this sacred day has been tainted with folklore and commercialism, but experience and wisdom enable her to see these gilded traditions as a way to bridge the gap between the sacred and the profane. For Ginny, a gift for someone special on Christmas is a reminder of the greatest Gift ever given. So naturally Ginny wants to give Brad something special for Christmas. But she, too, finds herself without two pennies to rub together. Then, suddenly, an idea flashes across her mind that makes her eyes water, feeling the internal warmth that comes with giving wholeheartedly.

Read More »

10/17/24

Ten years ago, my parents, Robert and Sheila, were killed in a car accident on Christmas Day. A head on collision with a drunk driver took them away from me. It turned out that both front airbags were defective. They were coming back from looking at Christmas lights. My seven-year-old daughter was in the back seat. She was not wearing her seatbelt. She was thrown from the wreckage. She died instantly.

Read More »

Newsletter Signup