It was the Lord who made it known to me, and I knew;
then you showed me their evil deeds.
But I was like a gentle lamb
led to the slaughter.
And I did not know it was against me
that they devised schemes, saying,
‘Let us destroy the tree with its fruit,
let us cut him off from the land of the living,
so that his name will no longer be remembered!’
But you, O Lord of hosts, who judge righteously,
who try the heart and the mind,
let me see your retribution upon them,
for to you I have committed my cause.
Accused or accuser, which would I be?
At times I’ve spoken an evident truth in the face of opposition. Said simply, that which to all should be plain.
But others didn’t grasp it.
Inconvenient words, out of kilter, so ‘why rock the boat?’. That movement is a form of destruction — unpicking a dear fabric.
Then again, I’ve dealt with intransigent dissenters. Listened—politely at first—and then with frustration mounting, in the end cutting off a fruitless exchange.
Perhaps that’s how it started with Jeremiah.
He spoke as he found, perceiving mortal peril in the wills of Jerusalem. Initially humoured, then annoying and agitated. They tried a quiver of tricks, and yet he persisted. So they resolved to stop ‘this incessant bleating’.
‘Let’s excise this appendix on our path to the future: we’re modern, sophisticated and know what needs to be done’.
Those bittersweet fruits of another tree are beguiling, and their strange taste makes us enjoyably blind.
So, I am stuck, on the fulcrum, in dark light.
But Christ holds my hand.