HANDS OF BLOOD & DIRT

Righteous Person:

Do not condemn me, God
My hands are clean
I am innocent

Tell me of one instant
Where I oppressed the poor
And crushed the needy

I am pure and blameless
There is no dirt or blood
On my hands!

God Speaks:

You introspective child
Using me only for self-cleansing
Abstaining from humanity’s aching sorrow

You have not committed sins against the poor
Your hands have not been dirtied
No blood drips from your hands

But you have omitted much!
Clean hands of passive purity
What love have you committed?

Tell me where you’ve hidden my love?
Is it in your heart, mind, family or house?

You’ve eaten it in gluttonous indulgence
Its aroma seeps through your lips
Yet as a putrid burp of hypocrisy

Show me the dirt on your hands
The sacred filth that comes from washing
The feet of the poor

Show me the blood of life
The holy stain that comes from comforting the sick
When you hold the wounds of the hurting

Leave your walls of comfort
Your safe security
Attend to Jesus in disguise

Don’t tell me what you have not done
What you have refrained from
That is like talking about nothingness

Let us begin again, together
You and me my child
I in you and you in Me
As we enter places of suffering
To bring my healing

Hold my hand and follow me
And when you're afraid or confused
By suffering and darkness
Squeeze my hand tighter
Feel the nail scar on my hand
And my pulse of faithful compassion
For broken people
And that includes you