Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Epiphany, Yr A)

BRIGHT STAR
(Isaiah 60: 1-6; Matthew 2: 1-12)

And where have you gone, bright star,
you that shone like an invitation,

like a beckoning, like a summoning,
like a signal of something beginning;

where have you gone in the nighttime,
in the distances of murky darkness

that hides from our eyes the suffering,
the weeping, the praying, the struggling,

our eyes grown weary with watching
for signs of God coming to bless?

We have looked for you again in our hoping,
we have searched for you in our wandering. . .

Could it be, bright star, that we are looking
in wrong places, in the wrong direction,

that you are found no longer in the heavens,
no more in dark meadows of sky,

but instead you rise on horizons
of love’s possibilities within us –

and that we can be the shining signal
for which others are hoping and seeking,

that we can be the radiant beacon
that is sign of God’s presence and caring,

that we can invite the wanderers
toward a warm place of welcome,

as we share with them the journey
that leads to God’s joyful kingdom. . .

Love’s light, bright star within us,
will you rise in our hearts today?

Copyright ©2017 by Andrew King

For those who might be using the gospel lesson for the Baptism of Jesus, here are some previous posts.

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Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Pentecost +22, Yr C)

OLD WOMAN
(Luke 18: 1-8)

Here you come again, old woman,
holding your hands out in pleading,
your worn hands, your wrinkled fingers

that have endured through such long holding,
holding the broken-hearted,
your back bent to carry their burdens,

your face so lined with compassion,
your eyes so calm yet piercing,
gazing steadily into our own

as again you plead your case to us,
asking us for justice for your little ones,
for the suffering and for the powerless,

for the hungry and hopeless and fearful,
pleading with us to enact the mercy
that fills your own heart forever,

while we in the robes of our self-importance
examine all our options,
consider our many excuses,

consider perhaps an adjournment
to get ourselves a coffee,
to look up the legal loopholes,

but unable to get you out of our minds,
you with your stubborn persistence,
your dogged determination,

your unwillingness to be silent or to let us go
until we, too,
have been saved.

Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King

Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Pentecost +12, Yr C)

AT AN UNEXPECTED HOUR
(Luke 12: 32-40)

Not yet is that kingdom come upon us:
not yet the peace that is God’s loving will;
not yet the swords turned into plowshares;
not yet the wolves lying down with lambs;
not yet the lands where refugees
may dwell in joy and safety;
not yet the bellies of children
unswollen from their hunger;
not yet the world’s enslaved going free,
not yet the poor finding lives of fullness,
the cities where the gun no longer sounds.

Not yet.

And so not yet can we turn our eyes from duty,
not yet can we turn from service to others,
not yet can we cease from seeking justice,
nor cease from a wide compassion;
not yet can we rest from kindness, from mercy,
from pursuing peace, from lifting up
all those who are trodden down.

Not yet.

Not yet that banquet table,
not yet that feast of the kingdom’s
completion where all are guests of love.
Not yet the time to extinguish our lamps
in the rays of a new day’s sun.

Not yet.

And yet –
hear what unwearied hope says:

Maybe soon.

Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King

Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Lent 1, Yr C)

TRUE BREAD
(Luke 4: 1-13)

We, with our stomachs so full of stone
dug from the deserts of apathy and dread,
our souls shrinking down toward skin and bone,

often miss much of that which is bread,
the things that would tell us that life is more
than what can be written in black or red

on a balance sheet. While we’re keeping score
of wealth won and lost – and fixing our eyes
on this world’s thrones, wishing for ever more

power or approval – to our surprise
sometimes, the richest blessings may be found
in service, in giving, in sacrifice.

The world’s high pinnacles provide poor ground
for standing – grand is the view, great is the fall –
but God’s love, not needing such testing, surrounds,

nourishes, guides us into a higher call:
to serve others and not only self. This
the true wealth, bliss, bread: love. For all, is all.

Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King