so much noise

by Jeff Rainwater, 10 March 2017, Cheyenne, WY

So many voices
all trading in fear
as if it’s precious gold
and anger as preferred currency.
state house, white house,
capital hill, television,
sadly even a pulpit or two —
all sounding the same refrain:

Be afraid! Get mad!

So, now I understand…
This is how Barrabas
was chosen to live
while the Prince of Peace
died.

I hope to walk
a different path.
“Do not be afraid,
I am with you,”
my Savior calls.
I pray I hear his voice
amidst all the
noise.

My colleague and friend, Rev. Paul Kottke, has been quite the inspiration for me lately. This poem was inspired by his devotional this morning during our Mountain Sky Area Lenten Daily Worship (want to know more about our morning worship services? click here.)

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deporting Jesus

by Jeff Rainwater, 25 February 2017, Cheyenne, WY

I saw our Savior today,
looking more like
the first-century Jew
than any portrait
in my church.

I saw our Savior today,
but he was labeled
Illegal,
put on a truck
and sent away.

Inevitable tragedy
when no longer
can we see pattern
of the Divine
in each other.

I saw our Savior but
He was deported.
Did our salvation
go with him?

Image found on Google.

2017

By Jeff Rainwater, 16 February 2017, Denver, CO

No pressure.

It’s just the fate
of the free world
being drawn
…or erased…
in these days.

B r e a t h e .
Fill you lungs with air,
your soul with Spirit.

Then, resist!

Any diminishment
in the value of you
or your neighbor
must not be allowed.

It will be
the small kindnesses
that will matter
most, as

leaven
hidden in the dough,
then we will

RISE!

Dear France

by Jeff Rainwater28 January, 2017, in Buffalo, Wyoming

Take her back.
Box her up.
Send her across the sea.
We don’t deserve her
Anymore.
Perhaps we were
What you dreamed.
Once.
It’s not just Trump,
A singular viIlain.
Nor MusIims
The sole recipients
Of disdain.
Irish, Italians,
Africans, Jews,
Almost every color
And ev’ry creed,
Those who came before,
Some who followed after,
Images of God All,
Were diminished
And denied
The hope written
At her feet.
So many,
Too many,
Hold markers
Against her promise
Unfulfilled.
A Democrat locked up
Citizens.
A Republican shut out
Friends.
You would think
We would learn.
Remember.
This was to become
The land of the free;
Home of the brave.
Brave?
Courage means risk.
An open door
Is Fearless.
Not so a closed fist.
Valiant
We have been
In other lands.
Yet sometimes
Terrified
At home.
So take her back.
We will understand.
Such a lady
deserves better
than us.

“Give me your tired,
Your poor,
Your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free
The wretched refuse
Of your teeming shore
send these, the homeless,
tempest-tossed to me,
I lift up my lamp
beside the golden door!”
– Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island