I Have Not Love: A Poem on 1 Corinthians 13:1-3

Let's say I can write by hand in any script:
Latin, Cyrillic, Indic, Chinese,
And speak the words of any of these,
Be a polyglot with a pile of degrees
And teach others to do the same -
An intellectual exercise -
So that we can pat ourselves on the cranium for our fine accomplishments -
As others do in music, sciences, and the arts:
I forgot the most important part -
The most excellent way.

Were angels good enough as I,
They could speak the tongues of men and their own in the sky -
As useless as an endless recitation of pi
To a two-year-old - if we have not love.
A gong's clang, a cymbal's crash -
It sounds like a late afternoon's dash
Through the metropolis,
As the motorway's educated ideologists
Contribute their own sounds to a cacophony -
Ever crazier, blowing horns of various pitches,
Screaming sarcastic ne'er-too-well wishes,
Passing highway salutes to all -
And having not love!

Or I could be a mysterious man -
A prediction-gifted prince trapped in an ivory tower,
With nothing but my answers to each mystery keeping me company,
Thinking that my facts keep the world functioning
And doctrine is power,
Waiting for a similar princess to give me a flower -
When I am really just a frog this hour -
Who has not love!

Or a man with faith - and not even a dreamer,
I dreamt Olympus Mons and Everest were cast down to the sea just because God wanted them to be
And my church grew and sparkled and gleamed
In radiance: "Let all who are simple come in here"
And get programs, sound preaching, even tears
In worship of the one true God with thousands
While I only have the means and miss the end -
Christ - the source - All things made by, through, and for -
Yet I, with Sardis' heart, have not love!

Or a man with wealth - gold on top of gold
On top of platinum, on top of titanium, encrusted with diamonds -
Super Bowl rings are made from me! -
And yet I radically obey
Give it all away to feed the entire world -
For ten thousand spans of life -
And I live as a jolly average soul
And enjoy the tax breaks -
Or if I give my body from my fame
To be swallowed in ever-climbing flames
"For the sake of Your holy, precious name" -
And have not love?

I am nothing.
The Creator of music calls me noise.
The Author of knowledge deems me a fool.
The Source of true prophecy declares me a fraud.
The God of compassion says I poisoned the least of these.
The Lord who bid me come and die sees no gain in my loss.
I would be better off to never live than to never love -
As He tears the veil and shows -
I have not love -
Nor Him who is it.
In the end, none will twist His perfect love
To point back to themselves and steal His glory.

Let not the sophic man boast of his scholarship
Or the sculpted strut of his sinew
Or the opulent vaunt of his affluence
But let anyone -
Learned or simple,
Atlas' arm or Achilles' heel,
Living large or destitute -
Boast in this:
That they understand and know
Their Maker, the Source of love.

-----

The texts for this poem, as taken from the New American Standard Bible, are below.  Emphasis mine:

1 Corinthians 13:1-3:
 1 If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing.

Jeremiah 9:23-24:

23 Thus says the LORD, “Let not a wise man boast of his wisdom, and let not the mighty man boast of his might, let not a rich man boast of his riches; 24 but let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the LORD who exercises lovingkindness, justice and righteousness on earth; for I delight in these things,” declares the LORD.

Shakespearean Sonnet: Get Wisdom.

Pay any price, that wisdom you attain

And go great lengths to bend your ear to hear

The cry of wisdom, calling o'er terrain

Nearby and far, to warn from future tears.

Prize understanding, wisdom's confidant

For knowledge works with prudence, hand in hand;

Defend yourself from growing nonchalant

Or callous to the Scripture's reprimand.

Embrace discernment; honor comes with grace,

A garland given you with beauty's crown;

Find satisfaction when you can retrace

Your days and know she did not let you down!

Heed caution's tales, replete from foolish choice

Of rebels, shunning cries of Wisdom's voice!

-----

The text for this sonnet is Proverbs 4:1-12, copied below from the New American Standard Bible:

1 Hear, O sons, the instruction of a father,
And give attention that you may gain understanding,

2 For I give you sound teaching;
Do not abandon my instruction.

3 When I was a son to my father,
Tender and the only son in the sight of my mother,

4 Then he taught me and said to me,
“Let your heart hold fast my words;
Keep my commandments and live;

5 Acquire wisdom! Acquire understanding!
Do not forget nor turn away from the words of my mouth.

6 “Do not forsake her, and she will guard you;
Love her, and she will watch over you.

7 “The beginning of wisdom is: Acquire wisdom;
And with all your acquiring, get understanding.

8 “Prize her, and she will exalt you;
She will honor you if you embrace her.

9 “She will place on your head a garland of grace;
She will present you with a crown of beauty.”

10 Hear, my son, and accept my sayings
And the years of your life will be many.

11 I have directed you in the way of wisdom;
I have led you in upright paths.

12 When you walk, your steps will not be impeded;
And if you run, you will not stumble.

Expositional Poetry on 1 Kings 9:9-18, Part 2

This is a continuation of "Expositional Poetry on 1 Kings 9:9-18, Part 1".

A whirl

Of breeze, barely felt

In an arid land - but something is different about it.

A pearl

Of wisdom comes inside it as he dwelt

In the cave where he had felt shelter from the storms.

A whorl

In his fingers feels this air,

So insignificant if he would not just listen.

Almost a calm

To follow the whole gale

Of tornadic force that he could barely withstand.

He puts his mantle back on, still shaken to his core

That a "failure" like himself would be given more

To do for the Almighty against his enemies' roar.

Be still, and know the stillness is too hard to ignore:

"You, in a silent breath of wind?"

"You see life with one eye through a shattered prism,

Two-dimensional - no depth perception.

You see the world through this savage system

Do I lack the power to change its direction?

What are you doing here, Elijah -

Continuing to place all faith in you?

What are you doing here, Elijah -

In causeless depression, through and through?

Just listen, Elijah -

If you trust, I level crooked paths.

Just listen, Elijah -

I will save a remnant from My wrath.

"A remnant -

Of seven thousand strong whose knees stay fixed,

Upright against the rulers' brazen god. They will resist

The advance of false worship in My land

Of a god of matter brought to being by My hand.

A new king

Will end the praise of Baal

Even after you are caught to be with Me.

I will find you still ever faithful, to the point

That the closest few that my Son will appoint

Will need a reminder - worship Me instead of you.

Have faith, until sight comes, in future grace,

Which arrives forever when you see My face."

"Repentance -

Even over despondency

Over kings killing me

And remnants writing me off

For my faults as a leader."

Resemblance -

To repent means change of mind -

"Go and sin no more", like the well woman -

And to replace sin with something,

To grab hold of God with no intention of letting go,

Trusting not in my hold on You

but Your hold on me.

It is promised in

Your Word - Saving breath of wind.

"You will follow

Until My work in you is done.

You will anoint the men to carry on

My work to praise My name under My sun.

From the rising to the setting of all days

In My city, earth, and heaven, I still reign.

Creation groans for its redemption and full praise

Of Me. I rule the waves and wind."

Expositional Poetry on 1 Kings 19:9-18, Part 1

My church is going through a lot, with several families being forced to move out of the area to find work. Some of those who have been able to stay have been anxious as they might only have one or two years left before they have to move. In a relatively small church like ours, losing several families takes a visible toll on our attendance and our giving. My pastor took a break from his series on Mark during the summer to take our church through a series of passages dealing with anxiety and depression. Several weeks ago, he preached on Elijah using 1 Kings 19:9-18 as his main text.

Most of the poetry I have written here until now has been free verse and topical. To reflect on this sermon more, I decided to write an expository poem on this text. I did not get to write last weekend because Hurricane Irene knocked out the power. That tied in well with the "wind" metaphors! :-)

I started to write this as the tempests whirled 'round me

and man-made lights flickered,

As the earthly wise were confused,

The simple stumbled from liquor

In hurricane parties with cheap draft specials,

Forced indoors as winds and rain battered roofs

But did not come strongly enough to make the buildings fall.

We witnessed a microcosm of Your destructive power.

As more rain fell with each hour,

Some thought they heard

You - in a raging breath of wind?

A storm at a distance

We give more than a glance askance,

Ready our stance

In case it happens to hit us by chance.

Some trust their persistence

Even as winds and trees cancel others' earthly existence,

They remain in resistance,

Running still against power which can outdistance.

Some wonder about subsistence

As they shutter their businesses at city officials' insistence,

Can't get bread for the day,

Maybe have to leave their low ground for the brae

As the storm does ballet

In violent style that cameras capture and replay.

Elijah went to a cave and stayed there,

Not for a storm, but a queen wanted to grab him by the hair ,

Trap him in a snare and kill with flair,

For the message he declared:

"The true God with no compare,

Maker of Altair,

Can tell that your cries to Baal are stopping in midair.

You told me, 'We're with Baal! Beware!'

Now complete this questionnaire:

Is your god off, solitaire,

Playing golf with billionaires,

Perhaps in the restroom getting debonair,

Or sleeping in the square,

So unconscious, he just got trampled by a hare?

Or he thinks it's funny like Moliere

That you think he'll answer you when you put your forms in disrepair?"

And after this victory,

Slaying four hundred fifty with a holy jealousy,

His inquiry - The mystery: misery, injury inwardly and spiritually:

Why react bitterly? Why treat it like trickery that life did not become glittery?

Then came the theophany:

Elijah cringed as the wind broke rocks in pieces

And he had no shelter from the tempest's reaches,

Stayed outside as his beard flew in front of him

As the wind challenged its anchors in his face,

Still grim - his tears moved more as he stood on the mount,

Sustained by grace in God's blessing fount,

But in that day he only knew law,

Following it to the letter,

A sacrifice required if he was ever its debtor.

His cold heart had yet to thaw

As he thought as hard as he could in what he saw,

"You, in mighty rushing wind?"

He didn't know the next was caused by plate tectonics

As soon as the jarring of the plates' harmonics

God only did it for histrionics

To show His power greater than electronics.

Soon after God called him from his self-imposed detention,

The earth shook strongly to get Elijah's attention,

To make him consider more than three dimensions.

What did that do to his comprehension -

"You, in shaking of the plates?

Is it fate that I wait and You don't change my state?

Did I misstate? My lightweight

Pleas for You to take me home looked strong enough to me.

But I don't see You here as fear

Envelopes me."

The familiar fire that exposed false prophets as sophomores

Performed encores.

He saw the dancing of phosphors

And probably dreaded this deja vu -

"Why don't You undo

All that happened there in lieu

Of an easy life for me, that I could waste and then rest with my fathers,

Without this tyrant Ahab breathing down my neck

And his wife wanting to separate my neck

From my head, and then feed me to her dog?

'Rare prophets of God, a shekel per pound at the pet store -

Your dogs will find it tasty, and you will be so delighted!'

Victor now victim,

I feel common as gypsum,

Courage softer than talcum,

Heart harder than diamond - I wanted my kingdom

Without any schism."

Then, the Designer of Theorems

Could say, "Wandering pilgrim,

See through My prism since My wisdom is winsome

To the true man of God who does not care about income."

Yet fire burned - to bonfire from a spark,

God certified that fire was not His mark

Nor any demonstrated havoc stark,

"You, in the fire that lights the dark?!"

"No, simple man with many limitations.

Hark - to the Ruler of all nations,

Including yours - Who ordained this ruthless ruler over you

And arranged each last detail hitherto."