As He spoke, His words pierced us
Like arrows at the speed of thought.
When we could not sit nearby,
His voice still echoed in our ears
Like distant thunder, but clear as lightning,
With authority we had never heard before.
His message changed us…
Even those of us who later walked away
Could not deny His impact.
We were as children then,
Desiring immediate deliverance
Without understanding the deeper need
For eternal redemption.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit,” He said…
And we were truly poor in spirit—
Sheep without a shepherd,
Wandering in the wilderness—
So He gave us spiritual manna,
Words proceeding from the mouth of God
Feeding us a life we did not recognize
Till much, much later.
For some of us,
It was a real beginning,
A tilling of our heart’s soil
So we could receive more…
After…
(From His nail-pierced hands.)
In the moment, however,
We sat listening,
Arrested by incomprehensible awe
As the Rabbi from Galilee
Poured out the heart of our God,
Longing for us, His people.