For whom is the sacra meant?

A cope for each feast day,

a beretta black and pointy -

a display of chic monarchical duds.

His genuflect is genuine

and posture, penitent;

and prances to his own sense of

epistemological assuredness.

But amidst the mystery and beauty,

the thurible smoke clears

revealing performance and perfectionism.

To say this bread and this wine

in this place,

are more holy,

reveals the Presence

is less real

in my daughter’s crackers

or in hands at food pantry lines.

To treat this ground as more holy

than the dirt floor of a refugee’s tent

is to deny the Incarnation.

His oneness or his matter

in all matter.

“I’m sure

the Sacra meant

to be safely outsourced,”

(to the church)

said the Creator, never.