Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone.
When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:
"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
     to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."
And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, "Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."

Yes, you can look back at all the clouded midnights

and the miserable poor who overflow

the urban cups of containment

and the blind and lame and deaf who

bump and toddle along next to all the

eyes and legs and ears never scarred

and sob for past imprisonments that cannot be redeemed

Yes, you can look ahead to the dreamy day

when all is well and all shall be well

and the present day hipster cynic

will be crushed by joy and released from dire irony

and then sit there and grieve the time gorge

between then and this sorry now

and fall into the groove of post-everything sarcasm

Or, you can look into now and see the glory

hidden in the cracks and fissures of reality

a paucity of light, yes, but still seeping through

glory in the poor who manufacture joy from nothing

glory in the blind who make their way just fine thank you

glory in the deaf who make tacit words you wish you could hear

glory in the locked up who discover inner sovereignty

glory in the one word spoken you’ve never wagered on

today is the day and liberation is now

and not even your ferocious doubt

or lingering melancholia can disable it

but your surrender to its unmitigated truth

collapses all of time into this eternal munificent is


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