This Sabbath Year

Exiled to an empire too familiar,
penned within luxuriant walls,
within storehouses of ample blessing
where riches are piled on provision
so high, they rot in deep holds.

The babbling of false prophets and the
hum of refrigerators full of months
buzz deeply in our conscience
where comfort has been deposited
so deep we forgot reliance.

Do not store up earthly treasure.
But moths can’t stomach 401k
and the market is no kingdom
and the merchant is no king
and who’s to bear the guilt?

Finance a yacht to vacation:
money and time owed to a brother.
Save a tenth of every paycheck
for Netflix for Hulu for Prime for the kids:
money and time owed to another.

Loans for land: maxed.
Cash crop for cash flow: maxed.
Manpower for manufacture: maxed.
Clothes, cars, cards: maxed.
No space, time, or way to relax.

We were commanded to rest,
to generously leave ourselves margin,
to bless them on the margins,
to love outside of the herd,
to love like tax collectors do not.

We were commanded to rest
for we would not do it otherwise,
for in motion our iniquity thrives,
for we find distress when we stop,
for honest self-reflection accuses.

The blessing of a loving home
is where we find our exile.
The curse of familial abuse
is where we find our exile.
We are banished to our own.

Hangared planes and garaged cars
and bunged oil pipelines
give the land a fresh breath,
of that which we withheld,
bandwidth weeping from our borders.

The trees inhale deeply,
and the fields stretch their limbs,
and the earth receives its due:
a sabbath rest from our extortion,
a sabbath from maximized evil.

We ignored Wisdom herself
until there is no remedy.
We despised true prophets
and their inconvenient words.
We deserve this timely desertion.

Panicked in a mighty tempest at sea,
all search out sin and breathe blame.
I point at heathen hearts and godless men
but know the germ is buried in my lungs.
God demands most of those called.

Preach not brimstone and doom:
that this is our judgment, our due.
Though it may be, let’s instead
glean what might be gained,
winnow kernels of blessing from the curse,
and fall into the hand of the Lord,
for his mercy is great.