You Cannot Come

Proverbs 8

²² Adonai made me as the beginning of his way,
the first of his ancient works.
²³ I was appointed before the world,
before the start, before the earth’s beginnings.
²⁴ When I was brought forth, there were no ocean depths,
no springs brimming with water.
²⁵ I was brought forth before the hills,
before the mountains had settled in place;
²⁶ he had not yet made the earth, the fields,
or even the earth’s first grains of dust.
²⁷ When he established the heavens, I was there.
When he drew the horizon’s circle on the deep,
²⁸ when he set the skies above in place,
when the fountains of the deep poured forth,
²⁹ when he prescribed boundaries for the sea,
so that its water would not transgress his command,
when he marked out the foundations of the earth,
³⁰ I was with him as someone he could trust.
For me, every day was pure delight,
as I played in his presence all the time,
³¹ playing everywhere on his earth,
and delighting to be with humankind.

John 13

33b You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you,

Where I am going, you cannot come. 34 I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.

Christmas Hymn

Gaudete! gaudete!
Christus est natus ex Maria Virgine: Gaudete!

Rejoice, Rejoice!
Christ is born of the Virgin Mary, Rejoice!

Ezechiellis porta Clausa pertransitur;
Unde lux est orta, Salus invenitur.

The closed gate of Ezekiel Is passed through,
Whence the light is raised, Salvation is found.

From the place the Light is raised, Salvation is discovered.

(My version, because it scans the same as the Latin, as it is sung in the hymn.)

It’s the day after Boxing Day, 2017. The end of the secular year is nearly here. The readings for today kept on echoing deeper and deeper, and the harmonics kept on getting more resonant and complex.

I don’t know how to even begin, but I just had an odd impulse to put down the phrases that struck me in order, as if they were a poem—

Adonai made me as the beginning of his way,
the first of his ancient works.

Where I am going, you cannot come.

From the place the Light is raised, Salvation is discovered.

Working through the depths of me, the words meant something like this:

There is no way back to the ancient beginnings;

we cannot come by going.

Is the Light raised far away—

in a place at the close of a dream,

at the farthest reach of my memories?

Or is there a flame right here in my hand—

widening out from where I am standing?

Is that long dark outlook

down the passage of time,

that far away spill of light,

nothing but a broken-off piece of poetry?

Maybe not.

Maybe we will always stand where we have been.

Maybe we will never know if we are coming or going.

Maybe we will always lift up our hands

as if we knew where the Light was coming from.