This is one of the most radical and shocking poems that I’ve ever written.  At least in my mind, in what I have felt that I was saying.  I grew up Catholic (Christian) and certain things defined reality, faith, hope, right and wrong.  While I’ve explored the nature of God in many ways, I’ve never given voice to something so shocking.  Here I imagine Jesus himself arguing that there is nothing meaningful or right about his death.  God, after all, could have redeemed the world in any way possible, but in this poem, God just ignores the pleas of the Son.  Here Jesus does not acquiesce to the plan of the Father, instead he seems to be ignored.

I am talking about the feeling that this event just makes no sense, and by extension so much more about faith and hope and what people turn to for meaning.  I gave voice to that part of me that is confused about just about every matter of faith, religion and what gives life meaning.  If Jesus was so great, why was he allowed to die a painful and meaningless death?  What is the nature of spiritual truths for Jesus as he hangs on the cross suffering, in pain.  Is the pain not still there, and in no way lessened by God?  If there was meaning to suffering, one might ask, “what meaning?”

I remember hearing about the movie “The Passion of the Christ.”  Some would say they felt that was good and gave meaning to their faith… watching the stripes of blood and pain on Jesus!  for our sins!  Surely that makes no sense to watch an innocent man suffer for the wrong-doing of another!  It happens so often.

Meaningless Suffering – Poem by Bruce Whealton

Even before it happened
he knew it was coming;
His father had told him about it.

When he asked his Father “why?”
there was no answer.

His father was God, who could
provide redemption for the world
in any way he chose!

But here He was condemned -
an innocent man-
by false accusations and testimonies.

He knew ahead of time,
not to protest his innocence
and yet, he would not deny what was true.
He had admitted that
indeed he was the son
of God.

There would be no justice or truth.

Then, bleeding and in pain,
hanging on the cross,
he tried with what little strength he had
to ask his Father,

“Why have you forsaken me?
why have you abandoned me?”

“Father, you know,
there is nothing good -
there is no justice -
when a good man -
an innocent man -
suffers for
no reason.”

“Father! …
Father!
You and I both know,
this makes no sense!”

He somehow found
the strength
to scream this!

Again, no answer.

No matter how many times
this story would be retold and in what
form the story would be told,
over the next centuries and millennia
he knew that it did not have to end this way and
there was nothing
perfect
or
right
about this.

His father could have done anything – anything else-
redeemed mankind in any way he chose,
he was God
Omnipotent
without limits.

He feared this,
to die a meaningless death!
Alone!

Poem by Bruce Whealton 2008

Note, this is a draft publication.

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This blog is published by Bruce Whealton, more information about Bruce Whealton is here… Bruce Whealton is the owner of Future Wave Designs, a North Carolina Company providing Web Design and Web Development. Visit:
NC Web Design:Future Wave Designs

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A SON’S FEELING OF ABANDONMENT – Poem by Bruce Whealton

Even before it happened
he knew it was coming;
His father had told him about it.

When he asked his Father “why?”
there was no answer.

His father was God, who could
provide redemption for the world
in any way he chose!

But here He was condemned -
an innocent man-
by false accusations and testimonies.

He knew ahead of time,
not to protest his innocence
and yet, he would not deny what was true.
He had admitted that
indeed he was the son
of God.

There would be no justice or truth.

Then, bleeding and in pain,
hanging on the cross,
he tried with what little strength he had
to ask his Father,

“Why have you forsaken me?
why have you abandoned me?”

“Father, you know,
there is nothing good -
there is no justice -
when a good man -
an innocent man -
suffers for
no reason.”

“Father! …
Father!
You and I both know,
this makes no sense!”

He somehow found
the strength
to scream this!

Again, no answer.

No matter how many times
this story would be retold and in what
form the story would be told,
over the next centuries and millennia
he knew that it did not have to end this way and
there was nothing
perfect
or
right
about this.

His father could have done anything – anything else-
redeemed mankind in any way he chose,
he was God
Omnipotent
without limits.

He feared this,
to die a meaningless death!

Poem by Bruce Whealton 2008

Note, this is a draft publication.

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This blog is published by Bruce Whealton, more information about Bruce Whealton is here… Bruce Whealton is the owner of Future Wave Designs, a North Carolina Company providing Web Design and Web Development. Visit:
NC Web Design:Future Wave Designs

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Recently I have started to create a website called Whealton Family Tree, which I’ll describe further in a different posting or you can visit the Whealton Family Tree site here.

An interesting coincidence, as I write this, was to receive a copy of a poetry anthology called “Simple Vows.” It was a few years back when this came out.  I had moved around a bit and had not received a copy of this publication.  It was significant because my poem “Genealogy” was published in the anthology.  This was significant to find my poem in an anthology with great poets, including poets that are well known from high school and college poetry anthologies… poets like Ezra Pound and Shelby Stephenson.

Genealogy

Self history in quest of
self knowledge brought me
today
to this
church cemetery.

A certain history
made visible to me today.
I saw my last name – Whealton -
etched on so many stones…
markers of my heritage…
written here
and here and on a stone next to this one,
and over there, and there and there and
there…

Why were my ancestors put into the ground,
like plants?
From dust thou art -
it says in the bible,
and to dust one must return…
but there is no such thing as death.

I see my ancestors
immortalized on tombstones
with the marker Whealton – the name I share.
Will I live on as well, through
my writing?  I wonder.

This road I travled…
this land I’ve seen
- as I sought to discover this place-
seems too quiet – too deserted…
a town of ghosts, but here
my ghosts tell me nothing.

I imagine I’ve found a ghost town.
Up front, within the church that my
great-great grandfather built
I observe
signs -  pictures – of recent visitations.
Names, and faces in picture albums
found inside the doorway…
descendants of those names
on the stones.

What did I come to find?
A place holding clues to my heritage?
or something more,
something I could touch
and see…
a certain hard stone’s proof?
(proof of what?)
Stones that need for nothing,
not sun or food,
nor water
to hold their forms
and their names.

All I found was dust – along
the roads and among the stone markers.

By Bruce M Whealton, Jr.

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This blog is published by Bruce Whealton, more information about Bruce Whealton is here… Bruce Whealton is the owner of Future Wave Designs, a North Carolina Company providing Web Design and Web Development. Visit:
NC Web Design:Future Wave Designs

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