Matthew 9:26

There is so much in the attic.
Bits and pieces.
Broken things. Abandoned things
that someone, somewhere could not quite part with,
sure somehow, because of the value it once had,
it have again. might

Furniture. Brackets for oil lamps.
Certificates so worn and dusty you have no idea
who, or what, they celebrated.
Gifts to the church. Things replaced by gifts.
Most of it forgotten.

There is a cross up there. Hand made.
A couple of boards fixed together,
almost covered with brown paper
with red letters that once declared victory,

It would be easy to be sad at the sight,
easy to say “what victory?” but I find myself
seeing it differently. I rejoice in what it was,
in the creation, the making, the likely parade
down turn of the century aisles
that was its purpose for being. I rejoice
in the times after that, when it was brought out
for secondary celebrations, and I rejoice
that for someone, it held such value
that they could not part with it.
It is a declaration of a moment,
or a series of them, or a time.

And if it no longer serves? No matter.
It’s descendants serve. Its descendants discover
new ways to celebrate their victory
over a life that threatens each generation’s joy.
Because that is what we are here to claim.
A joy beyond what our world wants us to have.
Something that defies the greedy and those who love
power more than people. Each of us in our time
standing on a foundation of these old symbols,
adding to it, a pile of artifacts that reminds our heart
that victory is, even in the moments it feels
impossible.

About this poem

Matthew 9:26 is the verse that says “All Things are Possible with God.”.

The photograph was taken in my Rupert church’s attic.

Tom