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Wednesday, December 04, 2013

Face of the Earth (Terra Cotta)

"And when they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah put out his hand to the ark of God and took hold of it, for the oxen stumbled. And the anger of the Lord was kindled against Uzzah, and God struck him down there because of his error, and he died there beside the ark of God." - 2 Samuel 6:6-7

We hastily presume that our hands
Are cleaner than the dirt
Beneath our feet

But the reality is that the dirt
(Unlike me)
Is just being what it was meant to be
And that we’ve been deceived
Into believing the lie
That it makes us filthy
We hate the dirt
Because it is a reminder
That removes all blinders
Never letting us forget
Where we come from

Because you may very well
Be able to escape the ghetto’s aura
But you will never be able
To escape your skin color

Explore any avenue that you wish
But we all have to dismiss
The notion of black and white
And any shades of grey fade
In light of the knowledge
That we’re just different shades of brown
All made from the same lump

Molded and shaped
Fearfully and wonderfully made
“Oh, the distinctiveness of the human race!”
And yet, we bite off our own noses
In spite of the familiarity of the faces
Simply because they come from other places

And we leave it to the ground
To soak up the blood from wars
And we leave it to the ground
To soak up the tears from the scarred;

Age after age -
It bears witness to the trauma
And eagerly awaits redemption
From a history of violence and dishonor

But the ownership has been rescinded
And when the world is returned to its Sender
The face of the earth will crack a smile
As it relinquishes its descendants

I am the ground…
I am the dirt…
And I’ve been trying to find my way home
Since the day of my birth

(cf. Genesis 2:7; Romans 8:18-23; Revelation 20:13)

Soli Deo Gloria,

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