Poem: When Jesus Died

Is it easier to gripe to God about the suffering we experience on a daily basis? Or to do something about it? Granted, the problem of evil is a huge philosophical question that I as a 23 year old am not able to answer, and to be honest,  it is the Grinch to my personal faith in Jesus (by that I mean I wouldn’t touch it with 29 1/2 foot pole). But I rub up against the Question everyday. In my own personal life, the lives of my friends, and of course in what I read and see in the news. God, I hate that question. (yes, that was a statement directed at God) All I can say is that I believe God has given us free will so that we can participate with him in the redemption of His world. What that redemption is intended to look like differs from person to person and often from religion to religion, but most people would agree, a truly valuable and worthy thing to do is make our world a better place. Christianity is at least encouraging because it is a call to participate with the creator of the universe through a personal relationship to do just that. Redeem the home, reconcile relationships, forgive, Love, and move forward. Jesus…He did that stuff…and I am inclined to believe he wants us to do the same and not be afraid to do it in the most human way possible, through living, weeping, praying, and dying.


When Jesus Died

By Paul Tomes


Life carried on when Jesus died.

The crowds dispersed and Peter cried.

Mary brought roses to his tomb,

Dinner, still dinner in the upper room.


Life carried on when Jesus died.

Hilter’s hatred filled the skies

With the taste of ash, a smoldering haze,

Indifferent men looked the other way.


Life carried on when Jesus died.

When a child screamed and a father lied.

No one to sit in the witness seat,

To plea for them that they’d been beat.


Life carried on when Jesus died

Though now he lives, he turns his eyes.

Back from dead, does nothing still,

Looks down and weeps—and prays we will.


I welcome your comments


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