Monday, June 12, 2006

EXPATRIATE

I walked among their number as an expatriate,
A son once beloved but since rejected,
Or as one rejecting distant political decisions
Meted out in dispassionate pompousness.

Sitting in on their sacred assemblies,
I felt my love for them once again,
And appreciation for spiritual formation
That pointed me beyond their strictures.

Briefly, I came as near to them as I dared,
As one approaches an unpredictable dog;
Once bitten by a particular species
One steels oneself against the pathology.

Surreally close and yet so very distant,
I stood a hair’s breadth outside their circles,
Enjoying conversation with trusted friends,
Enduring puzzled glances of suspecting elders.

I affirmed my calling and my freedom,
Not as a pawn of a denomination,
But as one called to invest in a community,
Welcoming all expatriates to a new home.

1 comment:

  1. Wow--here I find a kindred spirit. Your words mirror my experience.

    But I am not comfortable "sitting in on their sacred assemblies" and am unsure about having any "love for them." Yet I do very much miss the kind of spiritual formation they provided, and wish I could provide that for my child without all of the other baggage that comes with it.

    Thank for this post.

    ReplyDelete

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