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I found this beautiful poem several months ago on Rob Marsh's blog and have been eagerly waiting for Easter to post it. As I have been reading Adrian Warnock's Raised With Christ and seen more and more tweets from various believers about the importance of the resurrection, these lines have taken on even more resonance. I find the first stanza breath-taking its declaration that without a literal, physical resurrection, “the Church will fall.” The poem is by John Updike.
Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.
It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His Flesh: ours.
The same hinged thumbs and toes,
the same valved heart
that—pierced—died, withered, paused, and then
regathered out of enduring Might
new strength to enclose.
Let us not mock God with metaphor,
analogy, sidestepping transcendence;
making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the
faded credulity of earlier ages:
let us walk through the door.
The stone is rolled back, not papier-mâché,
not a stone in a story,
but the vast rock of materiality that in the slow
grinding of time will eclipse for each of us
the wide light of day.
And if we will have an angel at the tomb,
make it a real angel,
weighty with Max Planck’s quanta, vivid with hair,
opaque in the dawn light, robed in real linen
spun on a definite loom.
Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,
for our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,
lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are
embarrassed by the miracle,
and crushed by remonstrance.
Tagged as:
Easter,
John Updike,
poetry,
resurrection
a2’s men’s group met this morning for the start of the spring semester. As we shared our dreams and goals for 2010, a recurring theme was calling: “I want to know what my purpose is”; “I don’t want to wonder what I’m supposed to do; I want to be certain”; “It’s time for me to use my talents.” Not all of us spoke this aloud, but I suspect all but two or three in the group could say that we either need help in identifying our calling or we need to get moving in what we know. The “two or three” I excluded seem to me to be clear on what God has called them to do, and they are purposeful about moving forward in that. In my experience, the men with clarity and forward motion are the rarities, and as much I would like to say I’m one of them, I have to be honest and say that I’m not.
I drove home from Panera feeling rather heavy, thinking, Okay, Dan, you’re almost 46; time to get it together and Dude, what’s your problem? What a blessing it was, then, to sit down and listen to Pray-as-you-go's devotional for today, which focused on 2 Timothy 1:1–9. It seems we’re not alone in lacking clarity and forward motion; look at what Paul tells Timothy right at the start of this letter: “I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God,” or as The Message says, “And the special gift of ministry you received when I laid hands on you and prayed—keep that ablaze!”
Imagine this: you are a young man, and the world’s greatest missionary and evangelist takes a special interest in you. He spends time with you and your family, gets to know you, and eventually, he even lays hands on you and prays for God’s giftings and calling to be made evident in your life. Most of us would think that’s a sure ticket to spiritual power and performance: the Apostle Paul himself prayed for you. And yet we see that Timothy, like many (most?) of us, struggles to live out what’s inside.
I don’t know about you, but I take a lot of comfort in Timothy’s struggle, and I’m grateful that the Holy Spirit saw fit to include these details of Timothy’s life for all of us to read and learn from. For one, it reminds me that spiritual pedigree or connectedness here on earth is no guarantee of success: if the prayer and anointing of an apostle doesn’t do it, what can? And of course, I’m reminded that even those who spent time with Jesus daily couldn’t get or keep it together all the time.
So to Dude, what’s your problem? I say, Lighten up! I’m in good company.
But I can’t stop there: such a response, though accurate, becomes an excuse by itself. And fortunately, Paul doesn’t stop with “get it together, Timothy!” He goes on with some encouragement: “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind” (NKJ). What a great promise! This tells me God has provided what I need to have clarity and forward motion in my own calling.
It will take me some time to unpack what’s in this promise, but I don’t have to fully get it to be strengthened by it. Today I can remind myself, “I have power, love, and a sound mind.” And that’s a step forward.
Tagged as:
calling,
clarity,
forward,
gifts,
Paul,
promises,
Timothy
Charis means grace, and that’s what this blog is about: grace, in all its—sometimes messy, always magnificent—manifestations. I’m Dan Butcher, and I invite you to join me in learning to lead a Christ-centered, grace-filled life. 
Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version ®, copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.