Language of Heaven: Guest Writer Mary Soppitt
Today I am excited to feature one of my dear friends, and housemate, Mary Soppitt’s spoken word poem.
We are in a Christian Studies class together called “Paul and the Corinthians,” and Mary had a presentation today on the “love” chapter of the book of 1 Corinthians. Her delivery and prose were both so exceptionally beautiful, True, and thought-provoking, bringing tears to my eyes, and God stirring up Truth and wisdom in my heart. I feel so blessed to know this incredibly strong, self-aware, SPIRIT-aware, genuine, real girl. Thank-you, Mary, for the way you allow Jesus to love through you, to convict you, and to be all in all.
And what is amazing is that living alongside this girl, I have watched Jesus strip her of struggles and make her more whole, witnessed only more freedom and witnessed what she writes about here, and all without her having told me any of it was happening at all. The beautiful thing is the lack of pride that speaks to. The lessened pride, and the true selflessness of Jesus more and more operating out of this lover of His heart.
I pray that someone out there needed to read this as much as I needed to hear it.
Language of Heaven
A spoken word poem by Mary Soppitt
Language of Heaven
Pride is difficult to see,
it masks itself in extravagant charitable giving growing
with every penny added to the go fund me page
It sneakily, creeps higher and higher as
its roots sink deeper and deeper
Pride is almost invisible
it disguises itself in heart moving sermons
with every standing ovation,
it silently grows,
the heart a perfect place to take root
filling up the broken places that no one ever shows, and slowly, surely it pushes out the love that existed.
Pride slinks away in alley ways,
watching, waiting to pounce,
it hides away in the prophecies that make people cry
you know the one’s that really hit that sweet spot?
it puffs up the messenger,
teaching them, shouting at them to forget that the giver of the message gave it only in Love
Pride is difficult to see.
Pride isn’t patient,
It runs, full force, fully expecting to get back everything it has given away
Its undistinguished temper and lack of patience is a mask with L.O.V.E written on the front
Pride doesn’t give,
Pride makes investments
whether in words, or money or time,
it impatiently waits for the return It’s assets are affirmation
In recognition, in its name printed in the church bulletin. pride does not give anything to anyone without using them as a stepping stone in its world of constant transactions.
it’s an addiction.
Pride is only satisfied with the out ward appearance,
it is fixated on making sure everyone knows everything it has done
it posts on social media, every status building his tower of imaginary dignity and as every “act of love” adds to his tower of self worth it gets higher and higher it gets more unstable it gets further away from the ground it gets further away from the people he “serves”
pride will never look back pride stays at the top of the tower pride doesn’t like the ground
the ground reminds him of his weakness and pride isn’t okay with weakness,
She will attack the weakness in others that she knows she struggles with
In the name of “love” she will use anger, or manipulation or control to remind you of everything you need to fix in yourself
just so she doesn’t have to look inside herself and actually see how much room she has allowed pride to take and actually see how much control she has given pride
and actually see how much shame pride has covered up.
Its funny how honour and shame only have any real power in relation to others
But as soon as you are by yourself, no matter if you are a king or a plumber or a student
Shame has more control than you wish to admit. Shame takes over the fake identity you have traded in for the price of your love
that you have bought while stomping over others, that you have bought at the expense of your freedom
that you have bought “in the name of love”
Sometimes I wonder if Paul looked up into Heaven when he wrote Corinthians
Did he see something that the church had missed?
Did he see the trinity up there? Did he look straight into the eyes of Jesus?
Into the eyes of love? I wonder if he saw the honour God gives to Jesus.
Or if he saw the patience Holy Spirit has with humanity.
I wonder if he saw the pleasure the Father finds in Jesus.
Or if he saw the rejoicing when Papa God gets one of his children back
I wonder if he sees the celebration between the trinity
as they rejoice in who each of them are, in what each of them has done
as they completely trust each other, as they completely hope in us.
I wonder if Paul saw the excitement in God’s eyes
Saw that he is a dad at his child’s soccer game and with pride beaming from his face, and tears in his eyes he exclaims
“that is my daughter, I know she loves me, I am so proud”
as I sit on the field picking daisies, totally useless to the goal of the game.
But still, He is ecstatic, because he knows that no matter what I do,
There is a love that we share, worthy of rejoicing in.
I wonder if Paul saw Jesus, as He was up on that cross completely covered in shame
as low as he could have gone. There was no pride up on that cross
when the Roman soldiers nailed Jesus up there they nailed the purest love.
every hammer, only love
every cry of pain, only love every snicker, only love all the shame
& the guilt & the rejection and still, there was only the purest love.
I wonder if Paul saw what Jesus saw, the glory, the hope, the permancy of his sacrifice. I wonder if Paul understood what Jesus understood.
That the kingdom, His father has built is backwards. That the kingdom honours our weakness that the kingdom is made perfect through us
that the kingdom was made for the poor, for the shamed, for the weak.
I wonder if the church understands this.
that if we only give up our need to strive, our need to compete our need to honour ourselves with gifts our Father has given us
and actually went low, actually did what our Father told us to do, maybe we wouldn’t make people feel like a “mission”, maybe we would understand our identity
maybe we would know we are loved
maybe we would really grasp the fact that it has nothing to do with us
that we actually can’t do any of this on our own.
If we took a hard look in the mirror,
Maybe we would feel the need to give up our pitch forks that we have carved out in the name of love
maybe we could do more listening to those we serve so our gifts don’t sound like overwhelming noise
that points to ourselves, that build brick upon brick on the idols we so willingly let into our lives
the idols we so willingly let into our church. maybe we can spend more time with the one who is Love
so our gifts can actually point to Jesus. maybe the time we give to others we can give to God first,
so that when nothing comes of it, we can trust that Love has it in His hands.
A few months ago, I had one of the most clear visions I have ever had in my life
, I was face to face with the Father and he looked me in the eyes and told me: “Mary, just by being born, you have already won all my love, all my affection”
and instantly I was stripped of any shame, any pride, any tool I use to try to make myself more impressive
and though it was only a glimpse into the freedom available to me from the pride that has taken such a hold over my life
I realised that it is only face to face with the Father, that the church will understand who they are
It is only face to face with Love that we will know love.
it is only face to face with love that we will be love.