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My Christ is a raw object

  • 31 March 2015

my christ nothing is sanitised.   a raw object, raked by their eyes, i am small and lowly   at the feet of my Christ. my hair is sharp like needles on his skin. my tears wash the dirt stuck to his wounds.   like perfume, i cling. our cries merge as water and blood bursting from our bodies.   we do not hear the thunder, do not see the darkness fall on us. we feel the senseless suffering, we are   too weak for anger. Body of Christ                                         Go into the bare chapel. On the wall you will see a crucifix, cold and uncompanioned. Jesus hangs peeling, plaster broken off one leg, exposing a rod, the rusty interior – bare.   Go bare into the chapel.

Marlene Marburg is a poet, spiritual director and formator at Campion Centre of Ignatian Spirituality, Kew, in Melbourne.

Crucifix image by Shutterstock.