Mark 9: 33-37 Who is the greatest?

They were delayed between planes –
when he told them about his death,
how everything would feel ponzi in the end.

And he wanted to know what
they’d been arguing about
up there in business class,
while he was in the center seat
by the bathroom,
no room for a roller board, in economy
(that’s where you always find Jesus).

They didn’t want to say.
One thought CEO with a flair for
naming rights generosity … trumped
liberal middle judicatory clergy
or Christian radio personality (not liberal)
or the praise musician
whose notes were so sweet
they I-Tuned the I Am
or Harvard grad, doctor without borders,
Giclée artist, green activist,
or school teacher of the year.

It was one of those airports
with a play area for little children –
a yellow slide, blocks,
a toyplane to fly – vroom, vroom,
with a seat big enough for two pilots
(not one a co-pilot)

This is the greatest – he said gently …

after you take off your shoes, your coat,
your belt and your jewelry,
after you give up your laptop,
digital camera, blue tooth,
after you throw away
all the things you think will keep you
from getting thirsty,
and the stuff that makes your hair shine,

you will find your security here —
playing with these, welcoming them,
and being welcomed by them
for who you are.

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2 Responses to Mark 9: 33-37 Who is the greatest?

  1. Obed Vizcaíno says:

    MIS ZAPATOS ROTOS

    Tengo mis zapatos rotos, de tanto caminar, y meterme por esos barriales, por estas calles de Dios. Tengo mis zapatos rotos, me han llevado por caminos que no sabia que iba a transitar, me han conducido a las casas de mi gente para conocer su realidad. He conocido el dolor del hambre, la soledad de la enfermedad, la violencia injusta contra la mujer, el cariño de niños y niñas que ante lo que no entienden solo saben jugar. Tengo mis zapatos rotos, de tanto caminar buscando recursos para alimentos y medicinas, buscando corazones sensibles, manos generosas, y miradas tiernas. Tengo mis zapatos rotos, buscando la gente bella que hagauna opción por los más pobres, quienes reflejan cada dia en sus rostros humildes a Jesucristo. Tengo mis zapatos rotos, se rompieron siguiendo la ruta de la solidaridad, el compromiso, y el amor al prójimo. Se rompieron mi zapatos en la lucha por los más pequeños, por el mismo Cristo que vive hambriento, sediento, encarcelado, enfermo, oprimido, sin techo, por los pobres bienaventurados de nuestro Dios. Tengo mis zapatos rotos y desgastados, y todos mis otros zapatos cada dia se seguirán desgastando.

    Rev. Obed Juan Vizcaíno Nájera Maracaibo – Venezuela 15 de Marzo 2018.

    El jue, mar 15, 2018 02:47, Gifts in Open Hands escribió:

    > Maren posted: “They were delayed between planes – when he told them about > his death, how everything would feel ponzi in the end. And he wanted to > know what they’d been arguing about up there in business class, while he > was in the center seat by the bathro” >

    • Maren says:

      Thank you Obed for this comment. I am actually posting one of your poems this Sunday. Katie is translating it now. For others who wish to read Obed’s beautiful words — copy and put in Google translate for a poor but passable translation.

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