Unorthodox (Poetry based on John 9)

By Christy Foldenauer


Jesus, You took mud – the kind we scrape off our boots –

And You mixed it with some spit

To give sight to a blind man.

The blind man washed in Siloam, then he could see.

And all this happened on the Sabbath.


Risky business, healing on the Sabbath, Jesus.

It’s unorthodox.

Call this court to order.


How dare You not keep the Sabbath?

How can a sinner perform such signs?

Who is the sinner here, anyway? The blind man? His parents? You?

Whose job is it to define the sin?

Who has the authority to dispense grace?


We criticize the Pharisees

But we’re a lot like them, it seems.


Forgive us, Lord, for when we pray

We tend to prescribe

How You should show up and why

How You should move and when

How You should work, and for whom


When You show up another way

We misunderstand.


Forgive us, Lord, because

We want to control the outcomes

Control the circumstances

Control You.


But You cannot be controlled.

Sometimes, You heal on the Sabbath – because You can.

Sometimes, You change us instead of the other person – because You choose to.

Sometimes, You show up in a way we could not predict, or plan

And we have a hard time accepting that.


All too often, we’re like those Pharisees.

Help us to see You as Hero even when You choose to save in unorthodox ways.



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