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      You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire. (Matt 5:21–22)

      Outside even God he would entreat

      with his shirt pressed and untucked

      dark jeans carefully faded on the thigh

      vanity glasses rightly matching his square face

      cheerful humor at the right social moment

      generous to friends and strangers with and without

      breaking only the smallest of commandments

      and rules of engagement on the street and at work.

      Inside he knew the heft of carrying like sacked concrete

      his own lonesome soul, wretched and loathsome,

      a prisoner yoked to his rage and anger,

      the deep cavernous drip, drip of fear on stalagmites of terror

      now outside God entreating him with compassion untucked,

      inside peace rightly matching his wounded heart.

      Edges

      Lectionary 7 A

      Leviticus 19:1–2, 9–18

      When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very edges of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest. You shall not strip your vineyard bare, or gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the alien: I am the LORD your God. (Lev 19:9–10)

      He farmed the borrowed land like an artisan

      caring for nematodes and seedlings and

      the soil itself, the nurse of all life.

      He harvested with a jeweler’s eye each gem of food

      feeding family and strangers in village mud cottages

      except at the edges he left a row or two along the fence

      by the road where wayfarers and immigrants

      could pluck and eat and praise

      just as he and all do to glorify the soil’s maker.

      One night he dreamed of the future:

      mechanized efficiency, vast acres of

      monocultured crops and infertile soil

      and he woke with a night terror when he saw

      the edges were culled clean and nothing left,

      no rough meal for anyone walking by needful.

      Sweat and scream filled the bed at the thought,

      a godless day and place where no one remembered

      edges are where holiness is waiting to be revealed.

      Devouring Fire

      Transfiguration A

      Exodus 24:12–18

      Now the appearance of the glory of the LORD was like a devouring fire on the top of the mountain in the sight of the people of Israel. (Exod 24:17)

      You in your holiness burn hot and wild

      and we cannot even touch the fringe

      like the sun we can only scuttle our ships

      lest we rocket too close and get pulled in

      But from time to time and place to place

      you let your devouring fire flame free

      and in grace it does not burn or consume us

      and we can stand to be in your corona unshielded

      Moses in the clouds and ocean floors undiscovered

      Jesus and Elijah mountaintops and firstborns swaddled

      astonishing enactments on earth of your will good and just

      moments when the second hand stops and joy lingers

      We would grasp you in these moments if we could

      but your flames elude our fingers and palms and minds,

      our categories and rules, and so you are free

      from our control and we are unscorched and glad to be

      Gracious Ritual of Ashes

      Ash Wednesday

      Joel 2:1–2, 12–17

      Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning; (Joel 2:12)

      Mark me as one who will not outlast the earth

      or the melting icebergs or even the Brooklyn Bridge

      Mark me as one who will have a short skip and hop

      and reach the end of the sidewalk before too long now

      Mark me as one who knows well his nanometric life

      and sees in this ephemeral existence a hidden holy gift

      Mark me as ash and dust scattered about by artistic wind

      landing on a timeless canvas, painting I know not what

      Adam and Eve Again

      Lent 1 A

      Genesis 2:15–17, 3:1–7

      Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves. (Gen 3:7)

      We can gather at that coffee shop you love

      and after a currant scone and a second cup

      I can say to you: I’ll be Adam, and you can be Eve

      and we’ll run naked through the orchard free

      We can relish our innocence fresh and unaware

      as we pluck berries and sit sunlit, grass on skin

      discovering again what our bodies are made for

      and why we love being just ourselves so

      I can follow a slick snake down the unbeaten path

      and you can stop and listen to his cues and queries

      we can follow him to the tree of knowing

      and eat and slurp the juice from our lips and chins

      Then we can know and know that we know

      and we can cover up and blush and hide ourselves

      from our true selves, from the holy within and without

      we stumble and fall, lose the gate key and walk on

      Later, when grace appears and envelops us

      we give thanks that we failed

      and knowing we failed, we celebrate becoming,

      the letting go of having been

      Next morning we rise and walk out fully dressed

      we gather at the café, smiling at our hidden nude selves

      and I say to you: I’ll be Adam, and you can be Eve

      and you nod and sip and off we go into

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