On Sunday, my small group community (meeting online) read the story of Jesus’ suffering and death from John 19.  My heart was stirred by Jesus’ tender burial by Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus.  We were invited to write or draw a prayer in response to what we heard.  I sketched the niche upon which a body would’ve been laid, which looked remarkably like a table to me.  From this image emerged this poem/prayer.  I offer it to you on this Good Friday.

Sepulchre of Life

In a dark cave

hewn for the dead

hewn for the dead

a stone table

white in the midnight

hard, firm, stable, static

hidden from view

cradles the lifeless lover

the wounded warrior

the emaciated magician

the crucified king

One defeated

never again to be defeated

soon to rise and become

the unlikely and unthinkable

creating life from a garden of rocks

the womb of countless tombs

even the stone of my heart

chiseled for the living

chiseled for the living