Jesus

dispersed

(x = space)

dispersed

(from the beginning of the book of James)

we were together, Mom and Dad

(physical or meaningful)

now we are spread far

we can always say

the Romans did this

but there is our own

polemics

stranding us

separated

in a world driven by

its own prince

that drove Jesus

in the wilderness

from one arid part to another

I’m sorry we are no longer

together

though we have letters

we are the legacy of David, still

we are a people

and, as always,

we are family

I hope you are well where you are

I hope that work and food

come easily

I fear, because I know

such things are never certain

we came away with what we had

some maybe had accounts

and interests along the Mediterranean,

generally

we live today

and in the Messianic time

and must take hope in that

God will return

God also waits for us

like the shepherd by the

clear stream,

both to beckon

and God is with us, now

with love

with love,

this note from your child

we all are children now

again

c l couch

James is a brief letter in the Christian New Testament; the pastor preached on James this morning at Covenant Evangelical Presbyterian Church in West Lafayette, Indiana (USA)

photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

January 15, 2023 0

Christmas 1

(x = space)

Christmas 1

It’s Christmas day

What shall we say

But that the world

Is old and tired

And ornery

And peace taken

For an illusion

Some might enjoy

Invented

Only on the inside

Then a webinar

With fees

Here,

The sun is out

The temperature has climbed

Into two digits

There are icicles on the screen

Outside the casement

Of the window

Church is on line

Not only hundreds of miles away

But the consequence of heart disease

Is to stay

When the weather is extreme

Either way

And to deal with low energy

As in

It takes me forever

To do anything

And did Christ come today

Christ comes

Every day

And in a good way

I don’t care if

It was December 25

Or the ides of March

Something happened

The child of God was born

The child is also God

Was born

Is there meaning

In the other ways?

Of course,

There is

These seek the truth as well

And we should

Should be

With them

Christmas is cultural

I’m at church

Hearing the songs

Hearing about the welcome

Of Ukrainians

Here

And I am glad

It isn’t peace on Earth

Only in

Such a small portion

Of the whole

And shall we say

Jesus was born?

I think we should

It’s history

Then in a supernal way

Maybe the spirit’s born again

In loving refugees

And loving refugees

Maybe there were times

When mortal Jesus

Felt outcast

Alone on Earth

As and why he walked away

From time to time,

Once

Prayed in the garden

You know,

We may take up

Exegesis

And

Evangelism

Later

And may I pause midstream

Like the saint to say

To the child Jesus

(I to you

and I a mortal child),

Merry Christmas

And for twelve days

That make

This varied

Still hopeful

Hopeful, still

Yes, brief

Season

C L Couch

Photo by Robert Kalinagil on Unsplash

December 25, 2022 0

O Sweet, Majestic Lord

(x = space)

O Sweet, Majestic Lord

O to invoke you

Oh to complain

Or sigh as if

I could rest

Upon your feet

Or lay my head

On your knee

It’s not worship

I know

But it would be amazing

To rest on God

This way

And feel the cloth

And flesh and bone

Beneath

Because the one of you

Who has these

Could come to me

This way

And I could sigh into my sorrow

And hope to

Sanctify my dreams

While you might

Accept my tears

Not as libation

But as something honest

Offered

Of myself

For a change

And for a change

Reverse the pietà

I want to rest on Jesus

C L Couch

Photo by Boudewijn Huysmans on Unsplash

November 27, 2022 1

distracted

(x = space)

distracted

in the concluding

of the service

we sang

in the hymn

behold his hands and side

and I stopped following

that’s hard

the hands and side were pierced

there was blood

out of its natural place

and it ran away

from the body,

stealing life

and we are to behold all this

it happens to others, too,

the bleeding

from a fall

from a blade

(the scalpel blade is good)

or from a bullet

or from shrapnel

or part of a car or truck

or other crash

and we can talk about

what missiles do

we release so much blood

and it becomes

the thief of life

what was Thomas thinking?

maybe he knew brutal living

and the dying

all too well

and didn’t mind the asking,

blood for proof

or the holes in hands

and mark of the spear

at least

was he chagrined?

he knew his master

and the following

restored

for everyone, as far as

Thomas might be concerned

and in euphoria

he might not have cared so much

about the scolding

because blessed are those who

don’t need such evidence

for proof

whatever

he was back

he was alive

the gruesome marks

the signs of blood,

blood now thwarted

in thievery

the marks he saw—and

did he touch as bid?—either way

concluded,

concluded

everything

c l couch

photo by Allef Vinicius on Unsplash

the story of Thomas doubting is in the twentieth chapter of John’s gospel in the Christian New Testament

November 20, 2022 0

The Loneliness of God

(x = space)

The Loneliness of God

God is not alone

For God is

In three parts

And always

One

And always three

Jesus in the flesh

Could leave

And left

For hillsides

Other isolated places

Divine agony

And privilege

For sorrow

Things to feel the first time

All alone

Divine surprise

Pain

And maybe

Astonishment

C L Couch

Photo by Alex Blăjan on Unsplash

November 19, 2022 0

Simon Says

(x = space)

Simon Says

(based in part on verses)

Is that the pie-man

Or Simon Peter?

Anyone

Who’d rather simonize

A game

We know what Simon Peter says

He wrote letters

We have two

He fished

One kind and then the other

It seems he went back and forth

Between despair

And inspiration

His is a good cause

For reconciliation

Saying the one thing

You are Christ

Then falling, failing

Into water

(he is rescued)

First refusing foot-washing

Then wanting it all over

Yet somehow he is the rock

A name

A metaphor

For church

Jesus says so

Then there’s the episode

Chapter and verse for us

When it is night

And his rabbi, his leader,

And his friend is arrested

xxxxxtaken away

xxxxxto the authorities

xxxxxwho can determine

xxxxxtemporal and real

xxxxxcontinued life

xxxxxor death

And when he’s near

To everything

And asked about it

Says he doesn’t know

He doesn’t know the man

And upon the last

Of three of these

He curses

And the rooster crows

And he sees

Maybe in every way

The savior

Who was his teacher

And his friend

And it’s over

No paradox remains

The holes have been dug

Into conviction

Into faith

And practice

In some new ways perhaps

At least on the inside

Where it matters

Unless feeding others

That is an outside matter

What faith,

The joy he had

Have gone into the void

Like mortality

Into the entrance of a tomb

He goes away

He’s out of everything

For a chapter

Or two chapters

His own story

Torn out by the tearing actions

Of denial

Help my unbelief

He could have remembered

The cry of the parent

For the healing of the child

He could have wept

For Jerusalem

And for his friend

Peter, Peter

Denier

Pumpkin-eater

Follower and friend

He said so

Jesus said so

Then everything was gone

He was gone

With the other one

Sometimes we lose our way

With the other

C L Couch

Matthew 26:69-75

(the letters that are 1 and 2 Peter)

nursery rhymes that are the stuff of ages, now

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

October 18, 2022 1

Infinite Pleasure

(x = space)

Infinite Pleasure

There are things that

Enthuse me:

People learning

Youth ascending

Good things to read

With sight to see them

Pleasance in sounds

Or none

Peace in the small things

Peace in the ideal

The spirit of God

Moving across the water

Separating night and day

But keeping both

And rendering them

Necessary

Brownies with walnuts

In them

Someone said it’s popular

Now

To talk about the smell of Jesus

(that smells like Jesus)

I think Jesus

Smells like brownies

C L Couch

Photo by Eugene Golovesov on Unsplash

August 30, 2022 1

We Didn’t Know Who You Was

(x = space)

We Didn’t Know Who You Was

(Christmas Eve)

Let’s not slice it to death

This time

Let’s simply have observances

Let all the contradictions go

We know there’s folklore involved,

Which should fascinate

There was such darkness

At hand

Of one kind or another

Of the past, of

The present

Lack of awareness

Of the import of events;

Only to the players

Did things matter,

They in acts

No one to put it all together until Luke

And a little bit in Matthew and in John

Prophets old and new

We have to say

Knew and know some measure

Of the meaning

Of it all

They are extracted

And we read them, too

Such dulled and slow senses

Sometimes history goes that way

Sometimes it’s spiritual

The people walked in darkness

There might be other forces, too,

To keep us from the light

But it is there

The birth is there

Incarnation as a doctrine

Thought some of it at least

Might have been as any birth

A baby in the world

This one in a cave

And that’s unusual

And all around

The mystery

The strangeness

There was adventure in the sky

And from some people

Who in an iron empire

Chose to dedicate another lord,

Another life to follow

The child is God

But who knew that?

Mary and Joseph

Angels

And the magi knew something

While the shepherds were told something

As good news

This is the messiah!

Who really understood?

How could a baby save the world

Who is not Caesar

With family, tutors, strategists

Sheltered behind stone walls,

Armies out front

That keep the world

For them?

Well, other parts conspired

Into a birth, a life

That through faith

And later patchwork

Yielded doctrine

And a way

The people of the way

As on that night

(let’s call it a night)

There would be amazement

There would be awful things as well

But wonder now

And wonder later on

And with us, still

Praise God, for God is good

God is love

God is a spirit

Who wonders now

And offers light inside the darkness,

The kind of darkness that is not

Romantic but it

Stultifies and kills

Believe the child

Humbly, take the child in

To dwell with you

Maybe like a foundling, at the start,

Then as a teacher

And a savior

And a temple of salvation

In the city of God

(new heaven)

And on God’s free land

(new Earth)

Forever

Sweet, little Jesus child,

They made you be born in a manger;

Sweet, little holy child,

We didn’t know who you was.

Didn’t know you’d come to save us, Lord,

To take our sins away:

Our eyes was blind, we could not see;

We didn’t know who you was.

We didn’t know who you was

Maybe we should have

Maybe we can, now,

And into new ages

Love revealed

Prophecy fulfilled

The child grows up

We grow up

And for this night we way

Welcome to the world, child,

And everything that starts

Now

C L Couch

could be a choral or a choir reading

“Sweet, Little Jesus Child” is a song of African American origin. The precise source is unknown, and there are variants and variations.

This is the third in a creative, liturgical series for Advent and Christmas. The other two parts are the last two days’ posts. I think I’ll work on something else now.

Photo by Agung Raharja on Unsplash

August 24, 2022 2