love says, can I have you for a little while? in religion as in love we ask, “is it fair?” but no one in love is concerned with fairness. when the alabaster cracked and Judas said “what a waste” I wonder— was friendship wasted on Judas?   what did Jesus see in him? was it greatness? or did he offer intimacy like a rope to a man drowning in proximity to righteousness? inches away glory, in hell Judas, the man who would betray Christ with a kiss, like so many of us let down by the ones we let in. I wonder, is love ever wasted? by a mother whose child grows to hate her by a father who visits his son in prison by saints who dignify the weak and diseased you tell me— do they waste their love on people? do I waste my love on God? when it’s obvious religion is a failed project scripture gets misrepresented boys get molested by priests who preach to people who don’t do what they say they believe while others spend their last dime anointing the dirtiest parts of Christ’s body and in his eyes, both are worth his life. the pharisee in us cries, “what a waste” to invest in bad people bad systems people who don’t recycle people who don’t look or vote like me people who don’t deserve my sympathy and how many days,  like them, do I hide like a worm underground judging harshly the light I cannot see like Judas, trading intimacy for money eternal wealth for a wink of power I wonder, does God waste his love on me? does he lie when he calls me lovely? worth my worst and my best parts my poverty and my greed my honesty and deceit God does not give up in me even when I give up on him the way the prostitute spilled oil on the head of her prophet the way Hosea let a promiscuous woman call him “husband” the way Jesus knew Judas would betray him but just wanted him for a little while love says, can I have you for a little while? love doesn’t make sense and isn’t transactional maybe that is why we fall in love with potential but marry reality—like Christ did the church I can cling to my offense I can burn down the temple he builds for me but the church is a house held mentally by millions of forgiven souls who stand like immovable stones like a mansion by the sea once you know what it’s like to live in grace you never want to leave this is a house I need and maybe you do, too. so what do you say— can I have you for a little while?