Midrash: Luke 19 on June 12, 2020 in America

Yesterday he told us,

The ruler was despised.

“If you but knew the things of peace.”

He weeps with grieving cries.

Today begins fulfillment.

The mystic veil obscures.

The colt, the feast, (recall their feet?)

The king’s own blood to serve.

Tomorrow it is written,

(though all cast it away)

Empire crushes with its fist,

and darks the light of day.

And still we wish to see him,

Again ascend in power.

We govern blind, and blind we’ll be,

Until our final hour.

In every seasoned epoch,

With vict’ry we ally,

Our roots, forget, and so we let,

Our hubris sell a lie.

The lamentations, holy,

Vibrate in our bones.

The fragile win, deny their sin,

And hoard their cache of stones.

But hear the shouts of anger,

Our land a den of thieves.

Temple degraded, bodies separated,

To power we each cleave.

They say its writ by victors,

The books that shape our face.

Yet there’s a text, whose light reflects.

In every unjust place.

Justice is not to punish,

It’s not for even scales.

It’s to restore, and to transform,

And make mere courtrooms pale.

Yesterday he told us,

The ruler was despised.

“If you but knew the things of peace.”

He weeps with grieving cries.

Over the past few years, I have found these voices to be especially challenging and helpful in this process of opening all my senses to the true vision and work of justice:

Ruth King’s book Mindful of Race

The work of David W. Campt

NPR’s Code Switch podcast

Marcie Walker’s Mockingbird History Lessons

The work of Osheta Moore

The work of Austin Channing Brown

Still on my list to explore:

Freedom Road

Be the Bridge

soulNicole Knutsen