Treasures for the Tabernacle

With joy they came, led on by Spirit-quickened hearts,
Bearing gold and precious stones and textile arts,
With aromatic spice, wood, oils, and incense sweet,
Gifts worthy of the tabernacle and its mercy seat.
And thus, the holy place where God would dwell with man
Was gloriously adorned according to His plan.
But then gross darkness fell—the tabernacle gone,
God’s people wondered if the promised day would dawn.
Then in God’s time as bold Isaiah had foretold
A star appeared to sages versed in tales of old.
And when they found the Child, the King they sought,
They knelt and offered gold and incense that they brought,
And worshiped at the Tabernacle, Word made flesh,
The Mercy Seat enthroned in Bethlehem’s lowly creche.

Copyright © 2024 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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Yesterday’s Epiphany readings, along with the arrival of the porcelain wise men and camel to our parish Nativity scene, sparked the idea that became this poem. I have included the pertinent passages below, but I would especially call to your attention Exodus 36:2-7, in which Moses records that the people were so caught up in bringing offerings to adorn the tabernacle that he had to order them to stop “for the material they had was sufficient for all the work to be done—indeed too much” (v.7). Lord, make us so generous with our gifts that Your work will be amply supported!

Exodus 35:4-9, 20-29

Isaiah 60:1-9

Matthew 2:1-12

A Sonnet of Humble Access

Unworthy in myself to glean
The crumbs beneath your banquet board,
Yet in your grace you deign to lean
And raise me to your sumptuous store.
Your never-ending mercies, Lord,
Provide me with the Bread of Life
And blood poured out by piercing sword
To cleanse my soul from sin and strife.
Now amply fed and purified
Body and soul I dwell in you
And you in me. Thus we abide
As bread and wine make all things new.
Jesus, whose righteousness has been made mine,
Consume me in your heart divine.

Copyright © 2023 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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John 15:4-6

Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing. If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and men gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned.

Every week’s liturgy is the same yet different and not just because the propers change with the day. Even the most familiar, unchanging portions of the Eucharistic liturgy can hit us differently week by week, depending on the message that the Holy Spirit is impressing upon our hearts at the time. Yesterday it was the Prayer of Humble Access.

Eden’s Gate

Seized from the peaceful garden as he prayed,
The Savior yielded to the brutal horde,
Which Peter would have scattered with his blade
And to which Judas had betrayed the Lord.
He with a kiss the Paschal Lamb identified
As he, like Adam, walked with God that night.
He led Him from the garden to be tried,
A vain attempt to overcome the Light.
Effected with the flimsiest of lies,
The quintessential coup was quickly done.
The serpent triumphed at this priceless Prize
As blood flowed from the sword-pierced Son.
But at Eden’s Gate the ancient flaming sword
Fell to the earth to bar the way no more.

Copyright © 2022 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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Matthew 20:48-50
Now he that betrayed him gave them a sign, saying, Whomsoever I shall kiss, that same is he: hold him fast. And forthwith he came to Jesus, and said, Hail, master; and kissed him. And Jesus said unto him, Friend, wherefore art thou come? Then came they, and laid hands on Jesus and took him.

Gray

I’m weary of these clouds that will not rain,
That loom and doom to amplify my pain.
I long to feel the sun’s warmth on my face,
To glimpse the rays that turn the gray to grace.
Even the night is better than this hazy ache,
For darkness brings assurance of daybreak.
But where’s the promise that this fog will cease?
Where is the healing rain that brings release?
When clouds will not disperse, I must ascend
On wings of prayer my downcast soul to mend.
The throne of heaven brooks no shades of gray,
And plaintive souls are never turned away
From the presence of the Lamb in robes of white.
The Fount of Life, in whose light we see only light.

Copyright © 2019 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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Psalm 36:5-9 (KJV)

5 Thy mercy, O Lord, is in the heavens; and thy faithfulness reacheth unto the clouds.
6 Thy righteousness is like the great mountains; thy judgments are a great deep: O Lord, thou preservest man and beast.
7 How excellent is thy lovingkindness, O God! therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of thy wings.
8 They shall be abundantly satisfied with the fatness of thy house; and thou shalt make them drink of the river of thy pleasures.
9 For with thee is the fountain of life: in thy light shall we see light.

One Body

In the beginning God created man,
Who tried to uncreate himself again.
Communion severed and the image cracked,
But grace would pave the pathway back.
For every springtime brought the quickening rain
To resurrect life-giving grape and grain.
In fields and vineyards waked from wintery dread
Man’s sweat produced rich wine and bread
Until the Son of God became the Son of Man,
The pinnacle of God’s redemptive plan.
The supper offered by God’s perfect Son
Restores our kinship with the Holy One.
His blood poured out, his body offered thus,
That we may dwell in him and he in us.

Copyright © 2019 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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From the Prayer of Oblation:

And here we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice unto thee; humbly beseeching thee, that we, and all partakers of the Holy Communion, may be filled with thy grace and heavenly benediction, and be made one body with him, that he may dwell in us and we in him.

Emmanuel

The subtle serpent’s silver tongue
Spoke captivating words to make
The hearts of Eve and Adam long
To be as gods, God’s heart to break.
He who supplied them all things good
Came walking in the cool of day
To find them hiding in the wood,
In guilty fear and deep dismay.
Now exiles from the face of God
They toiled and waited for release
Till angels spread the word abroad:
Emmanuel restores God’s peace!
The Word made flesh, and once again
Man walks with God and God with man.

Copyright © 2018 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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My final poem of this calendar year is a product of last Sunday’s Lessons and Carols service. I was struck by the problem/solution aspect of the following verses that were part of the readings:

And they heard the voice of the Lord God, walking in the garden in the cool of the day. And Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden. (Genesis 3:8)

“Behold, a virgin shall be with child and shall bring forth a Son, and they shall call His name Emmanuel” (which being interpreted is, “God with us”). (Matthew 1:23)

Christmas Eve Sermon by Fr. Jonathan Trebilco

Fr. Trebilco and I graduated from Cranmer Theological House together, and he is now Rector at the parish we both attended during seminary days, Saint Francis Anglican Church in Spring, TX. This is his sermon from Christmas Eve.

The Spirit’s Double Descent

Creation Story

On formless earth consumed by emptiness
Obscured by darkness like a funeral cloak,
The hovering Spirit moved to form and bless,
The quickening Word rang forth and morning broke.

Then day by day, disorder was subdued.
Water and land erupted in activity.
Each new glory was avowed as good
By God the Father in divine decree.

On maiden filled with hope for David’s Son
The Spirit hovered to engender Light,
The promised Seed, and God with man made one.
Creator stooped to heal creation’s blight.

His presence in the Jordan did the waters bless,
And as he rose, the Dove descended there
From heavens open as when angels did confess
Glory to God and peace beyond compare.

Yea, peace to all with whom he is well pleased,
Which at the Jordan was revealed to be
His well-beloved Son who has appeased
The wrath that we deserved and set us free.

Once dead in sin, we live to glorify
The Son who has created us afresh.
Now washed with water by the Spirit nigh,
We please the Father through the Word made flesh.

Copyright © 2018 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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Written in gratitude for the Word who was made flesh and dwelt among us. A blessed Christmas to all.

Genesis 1, Isaiah 11, Isaiah 40, and John 1.

Thanksgiving Frost

To see them now you would not realize
That in the longer days they were consumed
By green bathed in the tears of summer skies
And flowers bursting forth in fragrant bloom.
Then vibrant buds gave way to sumptuous fruit
That harvesters brought safely in for food
Before they turned the plants up by the root,
Abandoning the fields in quietness to brood.
But on November mornings cold and brown,
The fields yield harvest of a different kind:
As frigid air descends on fertile ground,
A cloud of glory blankets for a time
The naked fields forgotten and forlorn,
In witness of the life that they have worn.

Copyright © 2018 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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The last half of my drive to work runs through a rural area with fields on both sides. Over the past ten years I have enjoyed the beauty of this land in each season. There is something holy about the fields after the harvest has been taken and the cold begins to settle in. Almost every morning they have breathed up a cloud of fog as though they are giving up the ghost.

 

The Great Physician

His healing touch had made a leper clean again.
He raised a servant with the power of His Word
And stilled a storm and cast out demons from two men.
Then driven from that place, forgiveness He conferred
Upon a paralytic and a publican.
Chastised for breaking bread with sinners He proclaimed
That mercy is God’s greatest gift to fallen man.
Then to his knees a troubled ruler fell unshamed
And heard the blessed news his child would live anew.
Meanwhile, a weary woman followed silently,
Half mad with fear yet holding onto hope that grew.
And though unclean, she pressed in close enough to see
His garment’s fringe, which she in eager faith took hold.
Dispelling fear, His words spoke healing manifold.

Copyright © 2018 by Teresa Roberts Johnson (All rights reserved)

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This poem loosely follows the narrative given in Matthew 8:1-9:22. The portion about the woman with the issue of blood was the Gospel reading for the 24th Sunday after Trinity, and although I wanted the main focus to be on that moment of healing that the woman experienced, I thought it was important to see what had led up to this event, which was multiple instances of healing, administered in various ways, as well as a demonstration of His control over His creation in the calming of the storm. In each case, Jesus gave the petitioner exactly what was needed. His healing power was not distributed through some magic hocus-pocus formula. He is the Creator and Sustainer of the universe, and His solutions were as varied as the problems.

But what was also varied were the responses to His grace. He had driven out demons, and for His trouble was driven out Himself. And though it was not recorded that this dear woman spoke a word, her grasping the tassel of Jesus’ prayer shawl spoke volumes of the faith she bore in the Christ who could heal when He would and as He would.

Lord, I believe. Help thou my unbelief.