The Words of the Rabbi

    The speaker at our church camp out this weekend is preaching about the Beatitudes. Although we did not camp out, (my idea of camping out is a budget hotel) we had good intentions of going to most of the sessions. My migraines, however, had other plans and I have learned there is no use arguing with my body. It always wins. Such a shame because he had a vivid way of speaking and I could picture in my mind the children on that crowded hillside, doing what children always do. Oblivious. Innocent. The poem might have been way better if I made it to more of the sessions, but I will just have to work with the two I heard.

                     The Words of the Rabbi

The children played in the hillside grass, as children always do.

For them, it was just one more day to play in the sun.

They would not remember the words of the Rabbi,

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. . . .”

 

But the older kids and parents would remember

the extraordinary words of this ordinary looking man, Jesus.

He did not recite what others taught about God’s word,

he explained God’s truth as one who knew both well—

like the children recognized their own father’s voice

from all the others in the crowd.

 

They did not know that day and those words

would be recorded forever in scripture,

that when the grass on the hillside withered

and the flowers they picked for their mothers

had long ago faded away, the words of the Rabbi

would live on forever.

 

The pure in heart at their hillside play

did not know the Rabbi would die someday

on another hill, for the sins of men,

that by faith, our hearts may be pure again.

                          9/4/21