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Good Friday
Maria Melendez Kelson
Jesus, I want my sins back.
My prattle, pride, and private prices —
climbing, clinching, clocking —
I might loan you a few for the evening,
so you don’t show up at your own crucifixion
naked of all purpose.
But for God’s sake, don’t spill any
redemption on them! They’re my
signature looks. Body by Envy.
Make up & wardrobe provided by Avarice. Lord,
if you take away my inordinate cravings,
what is left? Do you know
how much I paid for my best rages?
I want them all back if they’re
so To Die For. Else shred my palms,
wash my face with spit, let the whip
unlace my flesh and free the naked blood,
let me be tumbled to immortality
with the stew of flood debris
that is my life.
Kelson's poem is a little shocking, isn't it? It's almost as though there's an undercurrent of contempt for Jesus here. It's as though the poet says: "I was doing just fine - actually, I was happy! And then you, Jesus, had to come along and take something (i.e., sin) from me. Hold on just a minute" Do you think that something might be wrong...with me?"
Of course, we don't talk about sin much in The Episcopal Church. And with good reason. It's not the most important thing about us - not even close. And it leads to problematic theology. But we all know that our relationships with one another, with ourselves, with God are can become easily distorted. This frustrating Good Friday poem is, then, a good reminder that - in spite of all of that - Jesus comes to us in love anyway. Even when we would rather he didn't.
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