Lectionary: 37 and 38
Aloft in the blue sky morning a solitary crow
circled idly overhead on that March
day like a bewildered palmer*.
The soft, spring weather lent
the Sabbath dawn expectancy. A gusty wind
beneath his soaring wings twisted
the arcs of his errant path. Beneath the bird’s twisted
meandering a raucous, belligerent cockcrow
sounded through the streets that wind
the city, itself a dreadful, long disputed march*
of earth and sky, saints and sinners. The walls’ benevolent
mass greeted chanting palmers
who finished their pilgrimage and palmed
the ancient stones. Their twisted
braids blessed the holy ground. The raven, hanging indolent,
ignored below but eyed by circling crows
from Beersheba to Dan, heard a sudden marching
sound of drums and screeling winds
announce a coming day whose blasting winds
would shatter stony walls, yet leave the bruiséd palm
unharmed, fresh and green. An eager mob marched
from the city through the open gates, their twisted
faces grinning. Despite the humble ass and foal they crowed
at Herod’s pikes and Roman spears, and lent
their coats and tunics to the dirty streets, for even laws relent
when a populace hears a divine renewing wind
driving under gates like a crowbar.
Maddened authorities emptied money bags in open palms.
Suddenly reborn as criminals they twisted
schemes, and called for protest marches
to halt the invader’s coming. But the ruthless march
persisted as hosannas sounded, crowds clamored and the silent
mare and foal advanced. Dust devils danced and twisted
on dung-grimed streets, and tongues of stone sang as the wind
stirred the feathered ferns and spiny palms,
and overhead appeared a murder of crows.
On this Palm Sunday the twisted crown
And black crows hail our solemn Lent,
as at our backs a mighty wind propels us into march.
(* A palmer is a pilgrim. March also means a disputed territory between opposing governments.)
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I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.