The Master's Weekend
Recalling a comeback of cosmic proportions
It appeared as though
there would be no green jacket for the Master this time.
No green palm fronds either (for that matter).
By now they were brittle and brown,
crumpled on Jerusalem's cobblestone streets.
Had the previous Sunday parade been merely a charade?
One couldn't help but wonder.
The customary fairway had given way to rough
treatment that was totally out of character
and totally out of bounds.
The Master's scratch handicap
had been replaced by scars and stripes
inflicted by those whose sinful nature
he willingly embraced.
As the gallery watched,
the Master stumbled through his round.
His stance betrayed his discomfort.
Noticeably off balance, he swung
the shaft of the cross.
Awkwardly grazing the ground,
it fell (as did he).
A bystander was pressed into service quite unexpectedly.
The inexperienced caddy carried the Master's wood
while he limped in a forward direction
wedged between a twosome of condemned players
who had not survived the cut.
The Master, in obvious pain,
found a smile for his few followers
while grimacing at the leaders.
Ignoring the marshals' calls to be quiet,
the large disappointed crowd desecrated the silence
with rude remarks.
The Master bent low
trying to read the break he'd been denied.
What had been a "gimmie" before
had become a "why me?"
the Master scanned the sky (eagle eyed)
hoping (in vain) for divine intervention.
But none was forthcoming.
Having given it his best shot,
he'd reached the end of his round (fully spent).
He finished his course
and he'd kept the faith.
In the process, however,
he'd humbled himself.
The Master (humiliated)
hung his head motionlessly.
Removed from the viewing area by his handlers,
he was written off as a failure.
His reputation was immediately buried
by analysts and pundits who attested to his demise.
But, those who claimed to know it all
didn't seem to know the Master's weekend
was far from over. After all,
Sunday's final round was yet to be played.
The last day of the event began without fanfare.
By the dawn's early light
the arrogant leaders enjoyed a leisurely breakfast,
grateful the Master was no longer a contender.
With premature pride
they proceeded to retrieve their sticks (and stones)
with which they had humbled the crowd favorite
earlier in the weekend.
But as the mist evaporated and the fog lifted,
something was amiss.
The course was significantly different
from what the leaders had anticipated.
(given up for dead the day before)
was back. Furthermore,
he was unstoppable.
His recognizable form left little doubt
why he would not be beaten.
With obvious wounds in his ungloved hand,
the Master waved to those who surrounded the hole
from which the flag (and the stone)
had been removed.
Yes, it was a comeback of cosmic proportions.
The Master reclaimed his green jacket after all.
In a blaze of glory,
wearing his coveted blazer of righteousness,
Jesus inscribed his name in the history book,
defeating death once and for all.
The score had been settled.
His signed card had been verified.
Christ is risen!
He is risen, indeed!
* The Master's Weekend is dedicated to Pastor Glen D. Cole who died unexpectedly on February 14, 2012 in Sacramento. Glen was my friend and mentor. He loved golf almost as much as he loved his Savior and his family.
The Reason for the Season
How could we ever forget?
The reason for the season
isn't Peeps and chocolate eggs.
It's not the Easter bunny's holiday.
It's the death-defying miracle
when Jesus (doorknob dead)
left his grave clothes in a heap and walked away.
The reason for the season
finds the cosmos on its toes
in anticipation of what lies ahead.
There's a whole new world awaiting.
The Creator's in control
and the proof is that His Son's no longer dead.
Yes, the reason for the season
calls for more than Sunday church
or a champagne brunch (complete with lemon pie).
It's the confidence we're given
(since the stone's been rolled away)
that our caskets cannot keep us when we die.
|PO BOOKS BY GREG ASIMAKOUPOULOS
Sunday Rhymes & Reasons
Published June 4, 2009
Sunday Rhymes and Reasons is a compilation of inspirational poetry by America's pastor/poet laureate, Greg Asimakoupoulos. In this, his third volume of poetry, Pastor Greg paints word pictures that portray both the struggle and fulfillment that define a life of faith. His repertoire of rhymes celebrate rite-of-passage occasions like birth, baptism, marriage and death as well as the major holidays of the church and culture. It is a volume that illustrates the poet's love of words and of popular culture. The author dips his brush into a paint box of hubris, humor and honesty.
"Gloria and I have been encouraged by word pictures from Greg's pen that have celebrated both our ministry and God's presence in our world." – Bill Gaither, Gospel music composer/performer
"Gifted poet Greg Asimakoupoulos is a dear friend of our family. His poetry blesses, comforts, entertains, and provides inspiration for every season of life." – Natalie Grant, singer/songwriter/recording artist
Teachings of a Three Year Old... Turned Tyke,
by Hal Evan Caplan.
A father learns from the wisdom of his toddler.
Servants of the Most High God
A tribute to hospice nurses
by Greg Asimakoupoulos, 5/17/13
The Missing Have Been Found
A decade-long search has paid off; PLUS, The Time Has Come to Walk
by Greg Asimakoupoulos, 5/10/13
It Doesn't Take a Wizard
Putting Jason Collins' "coming out" in perspective
by Greg Asimakoupoulos, 5/3/13
I Have the Right to Bear Arms
The question is do you?
by Greg Asimakoupoulos, 4/26/13
The Boston Marathon Redefined
Attempting to make sense of the madness; PLUS, Remembering Pat Summerall
by Greg Asimakoupoulos, 4/19/13
Tiger, Tiger Burning Bright
Has he mastered his mistress urge?
by Greg Asimakoupoulos, 4/12/13
God, Bless America Again
Our beloved nation is in real trouble
by Greg Asimakoupoulos, 4/5/13
|» Complete List (576)