Today's Reading: Acts 2:1-21
Sorry I'm late posting today (I'm in the middle of a 15 hour day and haven't had a chance to write yet). Anyway, for Pentecost Sunday I organized today's worship around a poem one of our parishioners shared. The poem was titled "But We Are Friends", and it was written by Zachary Moon. I thought for today's post I would share the piece with you to invite you to think about Pentecost in perhaps new ways....
But We Are Friends by Zachary Moon
Extend your ear, Mother of the circle, of all creation
Behold your peculiar people, now madly talking around your blessed revelation
How beautiful our process, how simple and pure
If only, yes then, wait minute that, are you sure?
That this is what you intended when you sent your Spirit out?
Some days I’m just not so sure what it’s all about
Behold how we go along, picking and choosing with care
But consider the Cross, the prison cell; this is not our history to share?
Peace-check, Simplicity-yes, well relatively, Integrity-sounds good to me
But when does all this just shroud us in the comfortable blanket of complacency?
All of this sounds good on paper, so let’s minute that: umpteen dash one
What else could we do, well out of time today, let’s be silent now we’re done
And yest the quiet is good sometimes, but so is preaching from the trees
Forgive me if all this minuting seems a little like a tease
When was it that we grew so allergic to authentic confrontation?
Not that long ago we broke up false worship with righteous indignation
What do we have left if we lose our tongue to preach?
Look out, it’s First Day school, these beautiful young faces, and us with little to teach
Maybe we could begin by speaking of the living water that springs from a rock
But if we did that we might have to let go of a worship-style governed by a clock
Our young people may well demand some changes to our style and pace
Perhaps more dangerously, they often are calling us to be faithful, face to face
Is this why we separate ourselves, telling them that they’re not ready?
Better to keep them out if we hope to keep this little boat steady
And I keep thinking about that boat and this here storming
All these wars and injustices swarming
And there He comes, walking out across the water, the raging storm all around
But we look away, hoping for something that makes sense by way of dry ground
Surrounded now we try desperately to cover our head
But He call out: Get up and get out of this boat, leave your fear and your dread
He called then, as He calls now: Step away from the boat
Then again, He’d probably understand our position better if we minuted that we can’t float
It’s just too much to take in, that She will provide,
So we just keep to the clock, and keep sitting here side by side
But I kept on reading, this time skipping a few chapters back
And here’s another story of God’s people complaining of what they lack
A captured people scared to be faithful, the story reads the same
Then and now, Pharoah’s slaves-frightened, divided, and tame
But the message is clear-She will give us the manna we need
Plenty to go around, if we choose this feed
But how would we know, that yes, now we had enough
When all our consideration revolves around our stuff
Locked into that liberal narrative that says you can straddle both sides of the line
Loving your brothers and sisters on one side, and on the other keeping all that is mine
You could look at all this and say it our luxury or benefit to choose
Or you could see that it is those with everything who have everything to lose
This is the eye of the needle standing before us
And from every corner, the rebellious house sings it chorus
In our language, our mind-think, our TV
“Not now, not this, not me”
But the blood is on our hands-this is our stain
You cannot be neutral on a moving train
But oh, when we hop off-the possibilities we might see
Perhaps then we would hear the Truth in Her child’s decree
No longer are you servants, passive and incomplete
Now called Friends, from this moment from this seat
Stand up, quake as you rise
The Power lies inside of you, Love is the prize
Bearing, believing, hoping, enduring-all
This is the still, small voice of Her child’s call
Stand out, speak up, step off the curb
Away from the way of life that has built ‘burb after ‘burb
Let us begin as that change without the burden of guilt or dout
She is calling to us again, Pharaoh’s slaves-Exodus out!
Out into the desert, out into Her care
Faith is a choice and I for one am dog-tired of despair
Here I am Lord, there are some of us yet, willing to risk it all, to suffer, and take a chance,
Willing to hear, willing to be transformed, willing to do the time, willing to advance
In the name of the Covenant, in the name of Beloved Community, in Her blessed name,
These feet were made for walking, get up and walk, cured by Truth, behold the lame,
How freed from Cain’s mark, released from our task of domination and toil,
The desert may bloom, a new harvest bursting forth from rich soil.
I raise this prayer up to the sky and up through each of you
It is up to us now, in our hand, to know what to do
He dared to call us his Friends in John’s Gospel 15:15
Will we take on this responsibility and be baptized in the prophetic stream?
The servant pleads “Not now, not this, not me”
But we are Friends, now and forever – let’s get free!