It’s a world of fists, Jesus.
We have no shortage of excuses to fight;
the smallest difference,
the most insignificant slight
the least justifiable defense of our rights or privilege
and our fists are raised and thrown,
and we feel no shame.
Forgive us the violence of our hearts.
Teach us to open our hands, Jesus, like you did,
to repair the places that war has destroyed,
to heal the people that hatred has wounded,
to rebuild the communities that violence has fractured,
to reconcile the factions that fear has divided,
to forgive the wrongs that have dehumanised us all.
Teach us to open our hands, Jesus, like you did,
though nails may be all
that is offered in return.
