The Spirit’s upon him—
But what about me?
For Him it’s “fulfillment.”
For me, it’s obscene.
He says we bring flavor
To blandished, bare Earth—
A day of abundance,
A season of mirth.
But I know what I bring:
A hand without thumbs—
A jot without tittles.
Something tasteless this way comes.
When I give my own brother
Good cause for a grudge,
When I bear a false witness
In front of the judge,
When my appetites drive me
Instead of food’s flavors,
When I withhold some kindness
From those the Lord favors—
Something tasteless this way comes.
When I give my words weight
Invoking God’s name,
Or think I can decide
Who’s worthy of shame—
When I think of divorce
As common, not rare,
Or retain for myself
What God means to share—
Something tasteless this way comes.
If I hide a great city
In canyons miles deep,
If I seek my own blessing
While others yet weep,
If fears for tomorrow
Throw doubt on today,
If I walk by His side
But get in the way—
Something tasteless this way comes.
When the Lord brings me lambs
Who I treat like pigs,
Or when I am content
With thorngrapes and thistlefigs,
When I think He can’t meet
My primary needs
While I nurture and cultivate
My own grimy Phariseeds,
When I bet the impossible
Simply cannot be done—
Something tasteless indeed
This earthly way comes.
“You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it salty again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless.”
This poem is a prayer of hope, really.
As Peter reflects on the impossibility of what the Lord demands in “the Sermon on the Mount,” he sees the mundanity of our failings… and the way to the solution. We do not have to “fix” anything; we just have to believe that God is bigger than all our smallness. Seek: seek wholeheartedly and singlemindedly, and we shall find.
Is Peter up to the challenge? Well, that’s another matter… as it is for us.