Coronavirus Covid-19
All Church Services and activities suspended until further notice
While we grieve our closed churches
While we grieve our closed churches
I wonder if, maybe,
Just maybe,
Jesus is happy.
He’s been let out of the constraints
Of the physical church building
For a little while,
Free to stretch His long limbs of love
In the world.
Since we can’t go to Him,
I imagine Him coming to us.
I imagine His neck stiff
From resting His sacred head on our stone altars,
His elbows cramped
From bending to fit into the transepts,
His holy feet
Always pressed against the doors to the narthex.
I imagine Him bending double
To step through our low entrances
And out into crowning wreaths of cherry blossoms.
I imagine Him traversing our cities,
Wiping away tears with the hem of His robe,
Offering bread to those who need it,
Keeping vigil, fingertips blessing blazing foreheads,
With all those who die alone.
We long to return to our churches,
Incense sanctifying our plaster and stone,
But Jesus lives and breathes out here among us
And every molecule of oxygen
Is holy air.
Amen. Cameron Bellm