Category Archives: Clericalism

I knelt to wish for throne and crown,
But Christ walked by and set them down.
The chalice gleamed where glory shone—
And suddenly the wish was gone.

I sought a chair, a place to stand,
A title held in careful hand;
But saints win crowns by kneeling low—
The truest example is to serve and go.

I weighed my brother on my scale,
And found him wanting, thin and frail.
But Heaven’s cup poured wide and free—
The larger measure judged was me.

On mountain height His glory flared,
Then down the dusty road He fared.
Transfigured light in mortal frame—
The pasture never looks the same.

Perfect is not polished stone,
But mercy fully grown.
The Father’s sun on foe and friend—
Love without an end.

I built my throne of indignation,
called it zeal and called it fire—
but Christ stood at my altar
and asked for something higher.

Not louder truth nor sharper word,
nor one more righteous claim—
but hands unclenched, a heart released,
and love that burns without a name.

The law is not a gavel
but a mirror in disguise—
I see in every neighbor
the shape of my own cries.

If I would knock on heaven’s door
and find it open wide,
I must unlock another’s first
and let Love be my guide.

I feared my kneeling might condemn me,
As though silence were a verdict.
But Mercy waits in the monstrance,
Not to prosecute —
But to pierce.

Something greater than Jonah is here.

At sunset the barnyard cries,
Each creature sure it will be forgotten.
I walk out with grain in hand —
And they doubt my mercy.

Lord,
Make me less a squeal
And more a son.

I test the fence, I strain the line,
Declare the pasture’s edge as mine.
Yet mercy waits where flocks convene —
In simple acts, in love unseen.

The Shepherd calls — I must decide:
Stand proud alone, or walk beside?
For heaven’s gate swings wide and deep
For those who loved — and stayed as sheep.