Hung in a Tree
by Phuc Luu
On that day
That Friday
He was made to suffer
Inflicted by our transgressions
Burdened by our iniquities
Tortured by our violence
More than what he could endure
Hatred made real and palpable
Anger and cruelty against the body,
lashed out on the skin
Against all that was true, and good, and beautiful
A mob lynching of the innocent
Against the divine son
who just wanted to be one of us
Cutting down the tree to carve out a cross
Grown from a seed,
A plant whose life’s goal was to reach sun
And give air to this world
But people of power
Made it into an instrument and tool
To execute a political prisoner
Someone who was deemed a traitor because he sought a world better than our own One where we sit at the table together
Where the sick are healed
their wounds mended
And liberation is pronounced to the imprisoned
To speak against the principalities of this world
Resisting their strategies of violence
Declaring the Day of the Lord
But all these dreams were dashed on hardened hearts
Hearts not able to see God with us
Present
Breathing the same air
Laughing
Crying
Sleeping
Being with
Standing beside
Needing us, as much as we needed him
He was abandoned
Left to die
Except for the few women
Who followed him to the end
Until he breathed his last
Until he forgave his offenders
And hung with thieves
Death row inmates
Hanging their heads with him
Until the clouds darken
Their chests sunken
Until the light of the world
Was extinguished
By merciless hands
making the brilliant sky dark Eclipsing
Crucifying
God
Open God
Vulnerable God
Tender God
Who hung there
As dead
As that tree
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