His Body Dismembered
This poem and the image below were created as part of a trauma exercise to process an event you can read about on my post “On Conflict, Pain, & Composting.”
“Which Jesus do you follow?”
the executive asked
the woman holding a sign
by the door
with the word LOVE
scrawled in rainbow letters.
Inside, the authorities spelled out
the institution’s convictions
in no uncertain terms
retracing the black and white borders
that demarcate what they claim are
life’s divinely ordered limits.
Lines were drawn
pressing deep into flesh,
the body dismembered alive –
a violation so brutal
pieces of the news would be sent
across the land.
The spectacle was seen by some as God’s just judgment,
– tough love being dealt to deserving traitors.
Others were shocked, enraged, and mortified, by what their
pierced body testified to be a miscarriage of justice.
Which Jesus do you follow?
One member, now severed,
clung to LOVE,
and sought shelter from the massacre
in the one true sanctuary left in the church.
She sat down
back up against the hardwood of the cross
while the leaders justified their traumatic operation.
A few followed,
huddling around the victim,
sensing the only solace to be found
was at the site
of our Lord’s crucifixion
where love suffers,
the holy hides in horror,
and the powers are exposed for who they are –
twisted, fallen, and in need of redemption.
Others, made numb to the painful fate of the faithful,
gazed with approval.
Anestitized by the judge’s logic
they patiently waited for a chance
to divide the spoils.
On the night of this betrayal,
his body was taken,
and torn limb from limb.
“This is my body,
violated by you.
This is my blood
shed by your sins.
Do not do this in remembrance of me.”
You are now a witness to this Confession.
Thus shall you say to all,
“Has such a thing ever happened?
and speak out.”