Mere Discipleship
Mere discipleship
Sheds easy excuses,
Burns hot and bright.
All escapes slam shut.
Merely strikes with the searing clarity
Of a metallurgist’s mallet,
Sparks flying
Bending resistant, habit-bound,
Rough hewn raw materials
Into instruments of peace.
Mere discipleship
Means being ready
To give everything away
For the sake
Of sorely unloved souls.
Mere discipleship means
Remaining
Where Jesus told us he would rest –
With weary, poor, repugnant,
ill and sin filled
People in pain.
Or rather,
To recognize
That I am the ill and sin filled,
Perhaps hidden
As I feign fullness.
Just ask some simple questions;
Do I love God more than everything else?
Do I pray everyday?
Do I forgive my enemies?
Would I really sell all I have,
Give to the poor,
And follow Jesus
If he asked?
Does the existence
Of one innocent victim
Inflict an overwhelming wound?
Does my own indifference
Garner a guilt that
Nauseates my every nerve?
Do I believe
That my heart too
Bears the original wound
That with sin continuously pins –
Today –
Christ’s body on the cross?
Can I still believe I am unconditionally loved?
Do I believe God will forgive my greatest sin,
Even if I commit it
Over and over again?
Will I give away
What I see to be my deepest desire
If God deigns I do so,
Even when it feels
Like I’ve lost everything
That holds me steady?
Do I believe that my spirit must die to live?
Once I see
How far I am
From mere discipleship,
God’s voice is no longer hidden.
The question is no longer “How?”
But “When?”
God’s voice
The metallurgist’s mallet,
I cannot miss.
I can only choose
Whether or not to submit.
If I do not go now,
The pounding
Of the merely mercilessly merciful mallet will
Still unceasingly echo
In the haunted hallways of my heart.
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