To Write About God

'And He came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And he said to Peter, "So, could you not keep watch with me one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The Spirit is indeed willing, but the flesh is weak'
-Matthew 26: 40-41

I began my day reading Matthew 26 & 27. These two chapters depict the last moments in Jesus' journey towards crucifxion. I re-read them this morning because today is Good Friday. And I'm aware of the fact that it is too easy to feel too tired, too busy for prayer and for God.

Every year I find Good Friday to be a strange day. It's strange because essentially, as a person who believes that Jesus Christ is Lord, this day commemorates possibly the most significant day ever (exceptions could include the day Jesus was born and the day he rose from the dead). Yet every year attending church on Good Friday seems like a small burden, a thing that I do because that's what we do. This makes me feel sad, because I want so much to be filled with joy and gratitude, maybe even a sense of mourning, but usually I find myself feeling not much at all at the prospect of remembering Good Friday.

It struck me that maybe this was just a learned habit. Due mainly to the commerical nature these things seem to accrue, I have a learned love/hate relationship with lots of events on the calendar (birthdays, valentines day, Christmas day - but not Christmas eve). I've not liked Easter services in the past, and therefore I go, expecting to not like them; to be bored; to be bitter; to be left wanting.

And maybe it's not so bad to be left wanting, if I can let that feeling serve as a reminder that this life is not all there is, but that there will be a day when "at the name of Jesus every knee should bow on heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the father".(Philippians 2:10-11).

Today I shall post a rambling poem from 2003 which came to mind this morning, as I sat in church willing myself to be full of enthusiasm, rather than thinking how nice it would be to be back in bed.

poem 5: To Write About God, 15th May 2003, written in spurts behind a shop counter, Darlinghurst Sydney.

I find that I
Am not inspired
To write about God,
I simply feel tired.
I feel it would be
Something close to a lie
If wrote about beautiful faith –
So I won’t even try.
I would not presume
That the tunes I sing
Or the verses I write
Are my way of worshipping.

Why must we make
Art seem so deep?
When all I want is a lullaby
Before I fall asleep,
Or to read about Ron and Harry
Without being told its bad
Or about Frodo and Gandalf
And the adventures they had.
Yes, I understand the symbols
In The Return of The King
As they overcome evil, restore the right
And destroy the ring.

But sometimes its nice
To just read a story,
Without wondering
If it gives Him glory.
Its not that I think
We shouldn’t profess what is true
Because proclaiming is something
We are all called to do,
Its just when it comes to interpretive dance
I don’t seem to be educated enough
So I don’t understand and I think I prefer
Seventeenth century liturgical stuff.

When I open my mouth
I like to hear the song that I make,
But I don’t want to perform belief
Because I don’t want to look fake.
See when I want to show-off
That’s when I’ll stand on a stage,
And I just want to write about boys
When I rhyme on a page.
I like pictures to be pretty
So when I create with paint,
I don’t force images to be biblical
When they clearly ain’t.

I find that sometimes
I am moved deep inside
And I do have a message
That I don’t want to hide.
And other times I think
We’re all just good liars,
And that we’re all nursing
Inconsolable fires.
I find I appreciate
Those who voice what they feel,
Who unlike Iago,
Are open and constantly real.

Why abuse Eminem
About the filth and angst in each rap
When we aren’t perfect either
We’re just full of … (ourselves)