How curiously He is able to strip
their indignant scorn down to bare
humility, a burned-out house
undressed to its wood frame.
He ousts their wails of outrage
the way a whelping mutt
is booted out the back door
and left to whimper on the
steps in the cold night.
How suddenly he exposes
their private sham. Their untidy
closet quakes in embarrassment
as the door is flung open
for all to see, a hidden mess,
the shamble of their shame.
He does this the day he pulls her
out in front of the men, what a disgrace.
They cannot see the grace within the
disgrace of a poor woman who is singled out
in the temple on a Sabbath when she
should not be there at all.
It’s against the rules made
by the men who are rule keepers outside,
rule breakers inside and who
would like nothing more than to
throw her out and get on with their
He sees her bent form, a fusion
of bones, a rigid mass, utterly
uncomfortably tangled, a mangle
of agony and spirit bound by Satan,
Unable to straighten herself
for eighteen years.
She comes, she sees her time
for healing on this “un-legal” day,
a day of no healing by rule.
But he says that the men
who yell out for no healing
on a “No-Healing” day
lead their donkeys from their stalls
to water. (Ah now, is that not against the rules?)
and why should she not be set free
after eighteen long years?
This Is Her Time,
Now Is Her Time,
and how curiously, how suddenly
he heals her and the Sabbath runs
on through the other six days.
Reference: Luke 13: 10-11
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