All Things New Poem

29/10/2018 2:06:39 PM | Eloise Corlett

And how we so desire to see this world become all that she was meant to be. She is fractured but we look to the future, believing that things must change. That all things are being made new.

But for this future to not falter under the missteps of our past, we must be willing to look back. To see the reality of what has been. And what do we see...

We see an aboriginal story. We see a thief who came to kill and steal and destroy. We see a people sitting in the burnt out ashes of their community knowing that everyday is an invasion day for a colonised people. Everyday is an invasion day for a colonised people and now we hear their cry that :

Justice is a joke. For it is the powerful who define justice and design justice and deliver justice and defend what this Justice is. And who is... the powerful. It is I, my brothers and sisters,
it is I.

This is what I realise as I look backward whilst walking into the future. This is the missteps of our past. That I have not listened. I have not sat in the dirt with those who have lost everything & realised it is these ones who truly see God, it is these ones who will lead us into a future where all things are made new.

And now in the present I look around me and I see instead the tribalising, the splitting, the fracture,
there is a crack down the centre
of who we are and it shards off
into left and right, liberal and labour, progressive and conservative.
The division and the destruction. We face off against the other. The brother and the sister. Father to Daughter. Man to woman.

We have split ourselves apart, torn ourselves apart, When Adam blames eve,
We tear ourselves apart. When she’s made into an object.
We tear ourselves apart.
When we ignore these systems of heirarchy,
We tear ourselves apart.

When our practices and our theologies perpetuate patriarchy,
We tear ourselves apart. And we don’t even not stop there,
for When a child is left alone and without a home. We tear ourselves apart.
When we care MORE about church buildings then fostering children We tear ourselves apart.
When forty seven thousand nine hundred and fifteen children are in out of home care We tear ourselves apart.

When a child sits behind a fence on Nauru, We tear ourselves apart.
When the Fatherless and the alien and the widow are stripped of their dignity We tear ourselves apart.
And we don’t even stop there, we went further and we split the earth at its seams.

This masterpiece. This beauty. This diversity. The inter-dependance of all of us. The way that I treat the earth IS the way that I treat my neighbour.
As the earth gets sicker so do we all
and it is the vulnerable who feel it the worst.

It is so very hard to love a creator at the same time as you destroy their masterpiece, Like its very hard to love a painter at the same time as you destroy their painting.
The destructing of our earth, We split it at the seams as we tear ourselves apart.
These fractures grow between us

Till now it is violence and racist. Now greed and hurting. Now fighting and tweeting. Now polluting,
not caring. It is all broken and we are all broken and the pieces of all that this was meant to be lie shattered all around us. And we sit in the despair and we stare into the pond at our feet declaring that we are nothing, that our roots are too shallow, that the world is too broken. We build a wall around us to keep them out, to keep us in the shame that entered the world that day and the blame that entered the world that day.

We sit in the despair. We sit amongst the shattered pieces. We sit...
Until,
In the guise of a curly haired girl with brown eyes climbing over a wall and upon our branches,
Jesus comes to us.
In the guise of a boy who does not have a family to call his own
Jesus comes to us.
In the guise of the beaten wife
Jesus comes to us.
In the guise of a colonised man sitting in the burnt out ashes of his life,
Jesus comes to us.
In the guise of Mostafa from Syria,
Jesus comes to us.
In the guise of a child trying to kill herself on Nauru,
Jesus comes to us.

He comes to us, he comes to me and he bends down so slowly, right down, so lowly, he kneels amongst the shattered pieces all around me and
though my eyes are turned to the ground still in shame.
There he speaks my name and he holds up my chin So that I can look at him.
Eye to eye now.
Face to face. And all that grace he pours it in.
As he whispers...
“Lets build it together again. Lets build it together again.”

Friends, This is the art of embracing a broken thing and healing a broken wing, of joining together to use our voices
of taking the fractured and seeing the beauty.
of finding God in the breath of a baby, so lightly, upon a cheek.
of taking the pieces and mending the fractures.
of holding together the broken reality and the beauty of eternity, Right here and right now, Between the cracks lies the gold.

Right here and right now, Between the cracks lies the gold.
So lets build it together again. Lets go and build it together again.

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