On this Saturday of waiting, between Christ’s crucifixion and burial and his resurrection, we are taking time to reflect on the cross. In this sonnet we look at the hands and feet of Jesus in both his earthly ministry and the pierced hands, feet, and side which bear the marks of his crucifixion.

I have recorded the sonnet to Soundcloud which you may listen to below.

His nail-scarred palms hand me trial and blessing.
His gospel feet run my ordered days.
The thoracic flood my core-sin redressing.
The stain in my heart is bleached by his grace.
His hands beckon Peter to step on the tempest–
Waken Talitha who in death only sleeps.
They wipe his own eyes when his sorrow breaks heaviest
For his friend, Life and Resurrection weeps.
His feet bear him here through time’s threshold leaping–
Washed with tears and perfume, stride the sea.
These feet leap the cosmos a bride in seeking
And walk Calvary crossed to bring healing to me.
Sleeping in death, having opened his side
From the second Adam’s rib comes a pure, spotless bride.

artwork: wood engraving by Gustave Dore (1832-1883)

based on: John 12:1-3 which reads: “Six days before the Passover, Jesus therefore came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 2 So they gave a dinner for him there. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those reclining with him at table. 3 Mary therefore took a pound of expensive ointment made from pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.”

He came to us lately, but too late for healing;
For days my brother lay sealed up behind stone;
My heart twisted, grieving between riot and reeling–
He answered with a word and gave life to these bones.
And now pouring from my alabaster heart, broken
Is the fragrant perfume of my passion’s love and life–
Anointing his feet which runs out in devotion
For my savior who bears my sin, sorrow, and strife.
But worse than I feared my king did for me:
Faced his own death in silence like the Passover Lamb.
My heart breaks again, water from rock, tears flow free…
Is there hope beyond hope for this child of Abraham?
Placed in a stone vial my treasure is now sealed,
To await the word and breaking when love is revealed.

Artwork: woodcut for “Die Bibel in Bildern”, 1860 by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld (1794–1872).

This the fourth is series of sonnet meditations on the season of Lent. In it I am considering the glory of God which St Paul says we fell short of in Romans 3.

Humanity’s glory shines greatest in the earth
In beauty like the flowers, in strength strong as stone;
They each build subduing, weaving for their worth
A net to capture blessing to make this world their home.
But brighter still and greater, God shines in glory above
Hidden in invisible substance behind indiffractable light—
Who rules with right justice, works wisdom in love
Accomplishes his purpose with irresistible might.
But marred is our humanity, our monument temples fall;
We slave to grab only to lose all that we’ve begotten;
We seek meaning in our buying, sell ourselves unto the thrall
Though wind is all we’re reaping sown souls to be forgotten.
But Glory gave up weal taking on humility
Bearing the woe and breaking to make us nobility.

(c)Randy Edwards

artwork: Christ washing the Apostles’ feet, from the Otto III Gospels. Beyerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich; late 10th / early 11th century