Worn out

St. Paul has some interesting metaphors for old age and old bodies in 2 Corinthians 5:1-9. He describes an old body as an old tent that is gradually being destroyed. I understand that metaphor. We have a two-person camping tent that is well used and very hospitable; it freely invites the rain to come in. I understand it also in terms of a body whose cloth is wrinkling, actually threadbare in parts. The patches don’t really disguise it.

In contrast to this old fragile tent, Paul tells us we will someday be clothed in a heavenly building. That’s a bit harder to imagine. How does one wear a house, no matter how beautiful? I guess it’s symbolic for comfortable and just right for us. Paul goes on to say that our groaning aching mortal bodies will be swallowed up by Life. That’s another metaphor than stretches the imagination. And finally, Paul says that dying means “being away from the body and at home with the Lord.”

I deal with metaphor through poetry. So here are some poems that play with these different images and somehow stoke my hope that, whatever happens, all will be well.

Mixed Metaphor
…we groan, longing to be clothed … with our heavenly building…. (2 Corinthians 5:2)

How can one be clothed with a building?
How can a tent or a mansion drape our bodies
like wool or linen? Does homeless mean naked?
A canvas tent tearing at the seams, breaking apart
with time. An eternal house in heaven,
built of sterner stuff. How do these fit our bodies?
Expose or adorn us?
How does one wear a house?


Worn-out
While we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed. (2 Corinthians 5:4)

Groans and burdens aptly describe old age.
My tent has become threadbare with time and trauma.
Soon nurses will expose me, wipe me, wash me
as I silently lament my nakedness.
No one wishes to be unclothed.
So I groan and long for home.
For my new body.
For my new clothes.


Perfect Fit
… to be clothed … with our heavenly dwelling. (2 Corinthians 5:4)

I look forward
to putting on my new house.
The outside walls, of some strong flexible fabric,
fold my body in heavenly comfort.
I don’t worry about curbside appeal
for the beauty is obvious.
The door is sturdy redwood
and always open.
A wall of windows lets in light
and more colors than I knew existed.
No need of artificial electricity,
and the plumbing works
though the pipes are invisible.
Living water is instantly and eternally available.
My house clothes me well, blesses my body.
A perfect fit.

Swallowed
… what is mortal [will] be swallowed up by life…. (2 Corinthians 5:4)

I can hardly imagine.
These skinny legs, wrinkled hands,
broken promises and disappointments
will one day face the wide open
mouth of Life.
One huge slurp and mortality dissolves.
Swallowed up.
What happens next?
Like I said, I can hardly imagine.

The Reason?
… as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. (2 Corinthians 5:6)

Is old age God’s way of preparing us for heaven?
As digestion becomes complicated
and we labor to take each breath,
as we go from cane to walker to wheelchair,
saying we’re not at home in our body
is understatement. Our bodies become strangers
and no prayer delivers from this dis-ease.
We’re ready to move on.


Now
Now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation. (2 Corinthians 6:2)

Good morning, world.
Here I am, ready to go,
ready to stay, ready to leap
over a wall, ready to find a shovel,
dig a while and crawl under that wall.
I’ll find a way.
I’ll be the way.
Today is the day.
With nothing on my schedule,
I know without a doubt
my time has come.