In Medias Res

by Paul Hooker

Palm Sunday, 2015

Luke 19:40


You who enter the city in the midst of things,

come to find a place to love and die,

though we are busy keeping feasts, keeping kosher

keeping our heads down, keeping a low profile

ducked behind stone walls of practiced custom

where no hope or change or grace can reach us.

You who come to upset our assumptions

take away the illusion that we are the center of things

that we can cushion the stumbling stones in our paths

with pretentious fronds and conceited cloaks

though we cry Save us, Save us

without acknowledging that we need saving.

You who come to tear down temples

overturn the tables of our sacred things

scatter the coinage of our sacerdotal commerce

release the doves we sacrifice to self deception

though we apprehend you without understanding

and install you in the harsher sanctuary of our stony hill.

You who dwell in the midst of things:

for a moment, for an instant, for a heartbeat

slow the processional of things

still the noise of things

until we hear the one thing whispered

in the silence of the stones.