Displaced Redemption

There was a world,
displaced from its axis by
repeated tragedies of its own making,
as the inhabitants attempt to grasp
the credit for it's own creating.

An entire macrocosm misaligned by

embezzling clutches and throning lusts.

Who's history is marked by a needless taking,

and just in case, a pious faking

to appease a possible divinity

as either a patsy or a machine.

There was a world,

decomposing in it's own folly.

Spinning itself dizzy

flailing after impervious

redemption.

And inside that world there was a people

displaced from its milk and honey

by a ruling superpower.

As the globalising tar of Rome

spread to paint the Empire one culture,

this people had been waiting.

Listening in silence

for the reason of their plight,

Waiting for the sword of a rallying leader

to severe their shackles,

and the throats of the chain-bearers, alike.

Waiting with the same

attitude that inspired the silence,

a misunderstanding of what it is to be chosen.

For the planned restitution exceeds one people.

They were waiting to both receive, and to transport

redemption.

And inside that people there was a couple

displaced from community, quarters, residence and rest

by political upheaval and imposed census.

Trudging wearily in an ever mutating caravan,

of changing faces at every village.

Crawling with a throb of anger

at the frivolous reason for their imposed voyage.

They carry all they own,

and the echoes of expectations

of a newly shattered worldview.

Aching bones and blistered soles

they swallow the physical pain of moving,

in the necessity of being elsewhere.

Dislodged by

redemption

And inside that couple, there was a woman

displaced from mundane hopes,

from insignificance and comfort

by the social stigma of a swelling womb.

Yet that germinating scandal

brings a joy, boundlessly exceeding

the news of any other new life.

There was a woman

pregnant with confusion.

Pregnant with questions.

Pregnant with expectation.

Pregnant with an unaccustomed pride.

Spilling over in the poetry of worship,

for the plan that considers

her worthy of bearing

redemption.

And inside that woman there was a child

displaced from beyond the firmament

by a love that inspired a choice.

He clasped not at what was his,

but clutched the putrid wormwood

that cocooned my heart.

He claimed not his rightful crown,

but stooped beneath the threshold of

the deepest dungeon of our off-kilter existence.

He grasped the searing core of our folly

and is realigning all things onto his axis.

He looked at the fullness of his task

and still, he chose

to be uprooted by

redemption.

And inside that child

there in dwells

the fullness of God,

and he offers us

redemption.

The Poem was written just in time for Christmas 2015, the music recorded in time for Christmas 2016!

The poem uses the timely theme of displacement to explore the incarnation and what happened during the nativity, theologically and personally. You can listen here: 

The melody + sung words of the choruses are adapted from the Children's song 'When The Lord Came to Our Land' by Kim Miller.

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