This poem doesn’t really have the sorrow-turned-to-jubilation feeling that Easter does for me, but I appreciate it all the same. And I like the reminder that Christ isn’t necessarily with the powerful people, but that he promises blessings to the downtrodden. (Not that this poem necessarily says that, but it does remind me of that. It’s entirely possible that this poem is the opposite of faith-affirming. Maybe it’s only faith-affirming to pessimistic, doubting Winter Christians— though I wouldn’t necessarily label myself one of those primarily. Tell me what you think– faith-affirming or not?) The kicker is, of course, that we are all downtrodden and powerless to a degree. We are all dependent on the Atonement to give our lives meaning and empower us or grant us agency– to say nothing of its power to save us from our sins, faults, and insecurities.
Question option 1: How has Christ made a difference in your life?
Question option 2: What injustice in the world today really riles you up or moves you to act on behalf of others?
Easter Sunday, 1985
In the palace of the President this morning,
The General is gripped by the suspicion
That those who were disappeared will be returning
In a subversive act of resurrection.
Why do you worry? The disappeared can never
Be brought back from wherever they were taken;
The age of miracles is gone forever;
These are not sleeping, nor will they awaken.
And if some tell you Christ once reappeared
Alive, one Easter morning, that he was seen–
Give them the lie, for who today can find him?
He is perhaps with those who were disappeared,
Broken and killed, flung into some ravine
With his arms safely wired up behind him.