Thoughts On The Bread and The Body

She said that Jesus ain't a cracker
But I was bred to believe
That He might be
A cracker like me
Made in my image
White
American
Puffed up and arrogant

Can it be?
Might He not have been a cracker
But someone slightly blacker
With a pureness that is whiter
Than I could ever be?

Can this brown bread that is His body
Make this whitebread that is my body
Into something or someone that is better than me?

I believe
Out of desperation at first
Out of starvation and thirst
I reach for the cup that is offered to me
I reach for the promise

It is difficult to swallow
I choke down this truth and pray that it kills me
Pray that it fills me with someone other than that fat Pharisee

I consume it
In the hope that it will consume me
Overtake me and destroy me
And make me into something more than food for worms

The bread of life within me
Sustains me
And stains me
Ruins me for any other food I might desire
For any other high to take me higher
I'm a whore and a junkie and a liar
So I eat and I drink and hope
This will fix
My need for a fix
That cannot fix
What is wrong in me

Miracle of miracles
The unleavened bread will not stay dead
It will rise
And fill my soul to bursting

And the lie of repentance is turned into truth
And the lie that is me is perfected in Him
And Joshua says "You cannot serve the Lord"
And he is right
And he is wrong

"Dare I return in the Sundays to come
with a well-worn plea
resting softly on my tongue?"

This is what she asks of me
And I ask in return
"Dare I not return
For the bread of life that rests on my tongue?"

I will return
I will be broken like the bread
So that I can rise like the Son