The Fruit of our Cravings

I was honored to write and read this poem at my church’s Good Friday service this year.

That first bite of fruit
Brought the birth of more cravings.
New wants and needs appeared
And we’ve never stopped aching.

We hunger for life
Long and full as intended
Supplements, powders, and weights—
Nothing seems to mend it.

We ache for safety
For an end to our fears
We try many different locks,
But none can keep out the tears.

We thirst for true wisdom
to make sense of the dark
Turn on podcasts and pundits
Yet each one misses the mark

We yearn to be cleansed
Free from guilt and our shame
We try penance or acceptance
But we’re always left the same

We hunger to be filled
With purpose and meaning
But every feast we chase disappoints
They’re mere shadows quickly fleeting.

Turns out we’ve got it backwards
And have been seeking the wrong place
For that life we desperately want?
It trickles down in the blood on his face.

That wisdom we crave
Waits in silence at the end of a whip
And our refuge of greatest safety
Lugs a cross with each slow step

The guilt we abhor
That we could never diminish
Disappears with a final gasp
And the words, “It is finished.”

Christ’s body was broken
And like a seed buried in the soil
He became the first fruit
And the end to all our toil.

Take and eat of this fruit,
for our strivings have stilled
We don’t have to search
For by our lamb’s death, we are finally filled.