BY AVELLINA BALESTRI
“We know that Christ, raised from the dead, dies no more; death no longer has power over Him.” Romans 6:9
And who are we,
Jews within
And Gentiles without,
Worshipping in the Temple,
Or clamoring in the courtyard?
Who are we, under the Law,
With its measuring rod,
And swinging scythe,
Condemning us equally?
We are creatures of custom
People of principle,
Through carved commands
Or harrowed up hearts.
Look at us, with covetous eyes
And crimson hands,
And the apple’s inheritance.
We hate the evil we do,
And the good we fail to do.
Owed nothing,
Whether circumcised in flesh
Or sealed in Spirit,
We wander, dying dim
Among the mute multitudes.
And what are we?
And what came we to find?
We, the Children of Adam,
The Sire of Sheol,
And the grave’s gloom,
What is our hope in the Law?
O vanity of vanities, our boast!
O wreckless folly, our endeavor!
Yet take thou heart…
Death has come to us
And saves us from Decay
For the Spirit is given up
And the Curtain rends.
Though we were asleep
He has woken us;
Though unworthy
He has justified us.
The debt is paid and poured,
The blood smeared on the doorpost,
And Old Adam is made New,
The Gardener transformed.
He has not been overcome by Evil,
But overcome Evil with Good.
Behold the Man,
And be interred with Him
As He was interred with us.
Rise with Him at dawn
And put on fresh garments.
Now who are we,
Slain without,
Yet living within?
And what are we,
Heirs of Suffering,
Children of Glory?
We groan with Creation,
Like a Wild Olive Shoot.
