Eucharist: An Argument

Chimes peal inwardly,

resound endlessly

through the nave:

incarnation of the infinite.

Behold the Lamb of God,

who takes away

the sin of the world.

The host rises above the cup.

Behold! Behold! Life’s

high drama for the peasant.

The only high-stakes hand

in Pascal's wager: Do

the faithful need gamble

on God’s existence? Produce

proof that existence can be

proved. The labyrinth

of reason leads nowhere.

And thus we reason. The bread,

the cup: a firmer foundation.

But real flesh, real blood?

Produce proof that reality

can be proved. Presence is,

immediate, visceral, revelatory

of what presents, of what is present.

Reason observes the Sabbath,

and we all lie rested in its wake.

This is the bread which

came down from heaven.

God from God

Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made.

Believers cling tightly to this

haven -- salvific, eternal, flesh

of our flesh, radiance in the gloom.

Reason sits anchored

in the shallows, awaiting

the wind of faith to fill its sails.

The wind that blows where it will.

Never to be tamed.

-- For my inspired fellow poet Tom Schaefer