Sometimes the Story tastes sour

Judges 4:1–7 

Holy One of the Sacred Story,

sometimes I do not understand. 

That you hear the cry of Israel

oppressed in Canaan, twenty

years oppressed by cruel hands – 

I do see you, Merciful One. 

That you speak redemption

through prophet-judge Deborah,

end to misery by their own hands – 

I do see you, Faithful One. 

That you promise to deliver

the oppressor through battle,

ten thousand swords in hand – 

I try to see you, Justice. 

That you choose to work 

through human ones, women

as well as men – 

I do see you, Holy Partner. 

But must I see you descending Tabor

before Barak and ten

thousand solders' swords,

leaving not one of Sisera's 

men alive? 

Must I see your hand in Jael's,

rending peace with tent peg

and hammer, not 

one left? 

Is that really you, subduing

one army through the weapons 

of another, redeeming some

humans, rejecting others? 

Holy One of the Sacred Story,

meet me here as I know you, 

Justice, Mercy, Steadfast Love; 

meet me in my confusion

even if this story must remain