14th Sunday after Pentecost
September 6, 2020
Matthew 18:15-20 -
NRSV
(Scroll down for Poem)
(Scroll down for Poem)
Reproving Another
Who Sins
15 “If
another member of the church[a] sins against you,[b] go and point out the fault
when the two of you are alone. If the member listens to you, you have regained
that one.[c] 16 But if you are not listened to, take one or two others
along with you, so that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or
three witnesses. 17 If the member refuses to listen to them, tell it to
the church; and if the offender refuses to listen even to the church, let such
a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. 18 Truly I tell you,
whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on
earth will be loosed in heaven. 19 Again, truly I tell you, if two of you
agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in
heaven. 20 For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there
among them.”
Footnotes:
Matthew
18:15 Gk If your brother
Matthew
18:15 Other ancient authorities lack against you
Matthew
18:15 Gk the brother
A Poetic Offering
I found God at work
on Bourbon Street:
(“For where two or
three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.”)
~
a woman in rags with bags
in her two wheel cart
giving out grocery packages
to men in gray suits
~
an old man at the bubbler
lifting children for a drink
~
a sister singing soulfully
right there on the street
~
a couple speaking tenderly
seated on an old park bench
~
two ladies holding hands
walking the tree lined path
But
was it just a dream?
~
for the men in gray suits
never see the woman in rags
~
and the children at the bubbler
scorn the old man who is weak
~
the sister now rejected
silently mourns on the street
~
and the couple argue endlessly
on the hot part bench
~
and the ladies holding hands
askance eyes upon their path
Life
goes on
oft
with no change of hearts.
Yet
the Divine in the midst
of
daily disfavors
provokes
dreams of care, reversal,
and
justice seeping through the fissures
of
rejection and hurt.
And
I dreamed that I found God at work on Bourbon Street.
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Poem a Sunday
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