Jesus is the rebar (hell with stone)
the steel heart
that bears the tensile weight
of centuries of churching
lifted to the sky.
And we, too, dance the girders
light as Mohawk,
and eat our sandwiches in high places,
the holy moments,
with perspective on everything.
There will be days
we need to lay in insulation, too,
against a cold in churches,
cold from the inside out),
and we must plan into every
some significant resistance
to earthquake damage.
must bend through seismic changes
Jesus is the rebar
tossed aside at the building site,
perhaps for some decorative
but he has become
the unseen living weight-bearer,
and calls to each of us –
some to be air space or backfill,
some to be brace or merely
“Holy priesthood” sounded so refined —
but more often the church needs
a riveted butt joint.
This poem was written earlier this spring for the installation of Timoth Sylvia. He chose this week’s lectionary passage for his text. Joys to him and to Newman Congregational Church UCC in Rumford,RI where he has begun his new ministry.