By putting the story of temple cleansing at the front of his book, John might seem like he is just playing fast and loose with timelines. While the flow of time is very interesting in John, we trust by now that he doesn’t do things accidentally. When considering the structure of John in the way we have been, we find both the temple cleansing and Nicodemus stories placed together carefully - in order to reflect and expand the story of the crucifixion itself. “Destroy this temple and in three days...” When John explicitly states the connection between temple and Christ’s own body, he gives us a key for seeing the overall structure of his book; however for now, let our attention turn to the overturning of our own tables.
There are five poems in this reflection with a Tree at the center.
Temple
John 2:13-24 | Water Wing 5a
You offer me a place to meet.
How quickly I make it a show
and sell tickets.
Drive out my commerce.
Replace it with communion.
Only you can make my living.
Put real fruit on this tree.
Night
John 3:1-21 | Water Wing 5b
Nicodemus wants light.
He hides in the dark.
Don’t we all?
Afraid to let people see
what we know we need.
Teachers with nothing to say.
Afraid to leave the stage,
and silence our own show.
We need more.
We’re still hungry.
Power has not warmed us.
The night is still cold.
Let all false fires fade.
Bury me.
Tree
John 19:17-42 | Fire Wing 5a
And what if the ark doesn’t float?
Or, the sea doesn’t part?
What if the sling misses?
Or, the walls don’t fall?
What if lion mouths are not shut
but they come, bearing tooth and claw?
What If all our ability to trespass
gathers in one place,
pours itself out onto one head?
Will he remain faithful?
If this sparrow falls will he be seen?
The light goes dark. The water thirsts.
Blood covers the doorpost.
He has done it.
Gardeners
John 19:38-42 | Fire Wing 5a and b
Come down out of shadow,
dear Nicodemus,
troubled teacher, unborn wrestler,
your expectations scattered to the wind.
And come dear, fearful Jospeh,
bring your secrets out of the dark.
bring your cup. bring your spice.
What use are they now?
Pull down what religion lifted.
What light do these eyes see now?
Cross these arms, drain these wounds,
Wrap your dreams around these bones.
Carry the weight of descent.
Let it fill your own tomb.
Ground
But a seed needs the dark.
A hole in the ground.
A place to be broken open.
Burial in the womb.
Night’s husk will slip.
Morning will spark.