We read about Him in the gospels.
we heard where he walked, how he spoke, the crowd he hung with.
We found his words compelling, and even decided to give life in Him a try.
So He gave us new clothes. “Give these a try, they'll fit perfectly.”
It was then that we first noticed: the life Christ lived,
that was to be our life too,
which was fine, I mean, he is compelling and all,
but the clothes he gave us were dirty.
Messy. And some of the colors are just too bright.
The kind of bright that the crazy people wear.
And besides, I've always been more of a gray and blue kind of guy.
So we stuck them all in the washing machine,
tried to get the dirtiness out of it.
We used all the detergents, the stain removers, and lots of hot water
Might as well put them through a few more times
We do have to wear these clothes after all;
we should try to be presentable.
But with all our washing, the clothes shrunk,
And they don't fit like they were supposed to.
But we managed to get the mess out of them,
so we wear them nonetheless.
We shrunk the pure joy he gave us into making sure to smile,
it was long sleeved after all, and some days are just too hot for that.
The generosity he gave us to wear looked so foolish.
A lime green so bright that everyone would notice
just how odd it is to give even if our own needs aren't met.
So we put it through the wash, again and again.
Now it's a grayish green and, thank goodness,
we don't look much different from the rest.
The care for the poor and oppressed was just plain weird.
No one wears tunics anymore, so we figured he meant all along
for us to shrink it down and only wear it on special occasions.
Like at the Halloween party they're having at the soup kitchen in a couple months.
I might as well just wait until then to try it on again.
And we kept washing.
Living faith shrunk into a sunday morning outfit;
Preaching the gospel into defending our beliefs when confronted
Words aren't really necessary, right?
He had said to wear love,
but the love he gave us was messy.
Unconditional, unquestioning, and radical,
love that washes feet, and has the stains to prove it
But we washed out those stains.
And the love shrunk into trying to be nice,
saying “have a nice day” and “God bless”
The stains are gone, but the clothes sure are tight now.
Kind of exposes more of the person I actually am than I would like.
Turns out no matter how many times I wish a nice day,
I can still be a pretty nasty person.
But we continue walking around in our skin tight suits
and faded brights.
Choosing cleanliness over comfort
Blending into the grays
even though the world could use a bit of color.
And yet He waits patiently.
Holding another set of clothes for us to try on
when we get sick of living a shrunken life.
Dirty clothes, messy and wrinkly, with radical bright colors,
the kind that crazy people wear.
“Give these a try, they'll fit perfectly.”
