“There’s no proof that God exists
so I don’t believe in God.”
*sigh*
confirmation class challenger
pushing the new pastor
“You believe in lots of things
you have no proof for.”
Ugh.
The words die
as they fall off my lips
It’s not the answer I long for
Not the answer that touches my soul
Not the answer
because there is no answer
only the question
“Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?”
“What will you give me if I betray him to you?”
the question
“Do you know what I have done to you?”
“Surely, not I?”
the question
“Could you not keep awake one hour?”
“Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?”
the question
“Are you the King of the Jews?”
“Have you no answer?”
“What is truth?”
the question
“Whom do you want me to release for you …?”
“Then what should I do with Jesus …?”
“Why, what evil has he done?”
the question
Do you not fear God … ?
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
the question
“Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?”
“Where have you laid his body?”
the question
“Woman, why are you weeping?”
“For whom are you looking?”
“Why do you look for the living among the dead?”
the question
of the silent, empty tomb
echoing of something
inviting
breathing
not answers
final, dead
answers
but mysterious
vibrant
questions
and finding
in them
the living God
a deeply felt reflection, lovely in my ear and on my mind as I receive it.
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Thanks Henry!
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