Giving us the slip - a poem about Jesus
Jesus, you come into this world and
continually give us the slip….
You crop up in Bethlehem
a place of no importance, when they were looking for you at the palace;
and even in a place of no importance, you found a place of lesser importance
in a cave, an animals’ shelter;
next we see you in old Cairo
when Herod’s soldiers are chasing you around Israel;
and then , years later, you had the cheek to give your parents the slip
in the Temple, causing them the hell of a lot of worry….
and when they tracked you down, it wasn’t playing games
with your mates,
but teaching old men new ways of understanding.
By now you are living in Nazareth, the place where no good
things come from;
And then, and then,
you turn up to surprise your cousin John
by confessing the sins that you didn’t have at the river Jordan
and before he can catch hold of the lamb of God
you are off again, taking half of his disciples with you….
and again after your teaching on the mountainside
you slipped away from the crowd, undetected;
and in the storm on the lake you slipped away into sleep
and had to be roused by your desperate followers.
When the crowds searched for you, to make you King,
they could not find you, though you were close at hand
and when Judas sought to understand you
you escaped the limits of his understanding.
And us other disciples too, you were much too elusive for us
teaching about about the need to die in order for new life to be born;
and then in your last days in Jerusalem,
we look for you in the Temple – after all it belongs to you -
but you are not there, some say you went out to a garden
but we find only Peter and his friends sleeping;
and then suddenly you are arrested, hauled before Pilate
and yet you escape from him into silence, to his great amazement;
but then on the Cross you spoke…… seven words we treasure….
because love demanded them,
and finally, no, you did not give death the slip,
as some had forecast, and some still allege,
no, you took death as a draught, draining the chalice
bravely for us all, it was only afterwards that you gave Death the slip
in a way he had not foreseen but your Father had willed,
first treading down the locks and bars of his kingdom,
then dragging the ones you set free back up to the light,
the Easter light we celebrate and share with all whom you have ransomed
with your blood.
And then you are with us again, but we cannot hold you,
Mary reached out in the garden, when you dropped your
gardener disguise, but you slipped away with a word of love;
and then those two on the road to Emmaus, how you lifted their
hearts with words of scripture, until you broke the bread at supper
and slipped away, leaving them with the broken bread
and the treasure of your life outpoured.
And after so many years we reach out for you again,
hoping to find you through prayer;
we kneel down and try to pray very hard
and make you present to us;
sending our earnest prayers up to heaven,
but no use, so after a while we give up,
you have given us the slip again,
no prayers can bring you down
yes we will give up;
we get up to go,
and suddenly there you are kneeling just where we
were kneeling a minute before
ready to wash our feet
knowing its a rather shocking thing to do,
full of laughter
and teasing us with joy.
