Children’s Ministry
That’s what the banner in the hallway says,
the hall they stalk with weapons drawn.
Train up a child in the way they should go,
says Proverbs, and they will not stray.
We read scripture, we pray together,
and when the time comes we lock the doors.
We turn tables into barricades, hide in closets,
pray in secret, just like scripture says.
In the hallway they roam, they pace, they seek
the aims of their religion. They stand at the door.
The surveillance footage has no audio,
but their lips move as they soldier onward,
surrounded by a cloud of thoughts, prayers,
lips move with new fervor as if saying, Come on,
this is what we’ve trained up for, come on now.
Let the children come.
Good morning. I realize this is my second week in a row sharing a poem dealing with the heavy topic of school shootings. If you’ve read The Thread for a while, you likely know that I have a wide range of interests in my writing, and what I appreciate about sharing in this format every week is the freedom it affords me to experiment in my eclecticism.
But when children are murdered within the walls of sacred spaces —and I consider classrooms to be sacred — I get overwhelmed and fixated. I can’t easily look away to move onto the next thing. In fact, I’ve worked hard to prevent myself from too quickly moving on to the next headline, because I believe it is these tragedies, when children die simply because our elected leaders lack the courage to prevent it, that increasingly define our American values. And that’s worth dwelling on and grieving.
If you’re in Kansas City, I want to invite you to visit my studio and join the festivities at Charlotte Street’s 2023 Open Studios on Saturday, April 29th from 3:00pm to 10:00pm. There will be performances and readings, as well as the chance to tour the studio spaces for the 30 visual artists, writers, performers, and musicians who are currently in the studio residency program. Learn more HERE. Hope you can come!
Peace,
Andrew
Read while listening to Bach’s Matthew Passion and washing floors, a liturgy for the Wednesday in Holy Week. No need to apologize for passion and sorrow