Pilgrim Table

For All Saints Day, on which the prayer after communion reads,
“As we adore you, O God, who alone are holy
and wonderful in all your Saints,
we implore your grace,
so that, coming to perfect holiness in the fullness of your love,
we may pass from this pilgrim table
to the banquet of our heavenly homeland.
Through Christ our Lord.”

You call us from the north, O Lord,
and call us from the south.
From east afar we heard your word;
from west we sought it out.

Through deserts you have led the way
and over ocean deeps;
the forests hold you not at bay
nor any mountain steeps.

And we have travelled by your road,
have followed day and night 
in search of our eternal home,
on pathways you make right.

At every step a fest you spread:
a table where we find
your heav'nly manna for our bread;
your living water, wine.

You give us strength to journey on
in plate and chalice laid,
a foretaste of the feast to come
in your unending day.

Then at this pilgrim table, Lord,
come fill us with your grace
to seek the banquet more and more
where we shall see your face.

Fractio panis (“the ceremonial breaking of the eucharistic bread for distribution” during the meal of Holy Communion) in the Greek chapel (Capella Greca) of the Catacombe di Priscilla in Rome. Fresco of a Christian Agape feast. 2nd – 4th century. Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=566562

Valley

They shall live on the land that I gave to my servant Jacob,
the land where their fathers lived;
they shall live on it forever,
they, and their children, and their children’s children,
with my servant David their prince forever.
I will make with them a covenant of peace;
it shall be an everlasting covenant with them,
and I will multiply them, and put my sanctuary among them forever.
Ezekiel 37:21-28

And yea, though we must walk the valley here—
the road runs through the shadow of our death—
we shall not linger in the vale of tears,
but go to where the Shepherd gives us rest:

a homeland where the harvest never fails;
a city where the gates are open wide,
where peace lets out at last a long exhale;
a living spring that never will run dry;

where there are no more wars, no sword that falls;
no mothers weep to kiss their sons goodbye;
where no one trembles when the trumpet calls.
It says, The feast begins!  Come all inside!

For he has laid a table in our sight,
and there beside our foes we take our seats
where all our cups run over with new wine
and Christ himself breaks bread, that we may eat.

When shall we see the breaking of that dawn?
O, pierce the shadows!  Let us see the road.
We follow in the way all flesh has gone—
But lead us on, beyond where death can go.

Make straight the way, though all our steps may fail.
In darkness still, we shall not wander blind,
for we shall be your pilgrims in the vale:
Leave love and mercy there for us to find.

The Old Tower in the Fields (1884) By Vincent van Gogh – Christie’s, LotFinder: entry 5790823 (sale 2846, lot 267, New York, 7 May 2014), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=32286355

Something Bigger

So when the first came, they thought that they would receive more,
but each of them also got the usual wage.
And on receiving it they grumbled against the landowner, saying,
‘These last ones worked only one hour,
and you have made them equal to us,
who bore the day’s burden and the heat.’
He said to one of them in reply,
‘My friend, I am not cheating you.
Did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage?
Take what is yours and go.
What if I wish to give this last one the same as you?
Or am I not free to do as I wish with my own money?
Are you envious because I am generous?’
Matthew 20:1-16a

You called us from the market
and from our own affairs
to labor for your harvest,
and we have done our share.
But you pay us as others
whose work cannot compare.
Shall mercy be unjust, then?
Should mercy not be fair?

We labor for forgiveness,
for working off our debt,
as if our sins were figures,
writ on a balance sheet.
Such hope is all too little—
a crumb instead of bread.
You offer something bigger:
You offer us yourself.

Of heaven's feast you tell us:
You sowed, and we shall reap
beyond all we can reckon,
beyond the count we keep.
Your mercy keeps no record,
though what you paid was steep.
Instead, you make us welcome
and bid us take and eat.

Parable of the Workers in the Vineyard: Workers on the field (down) and pay time (up), Byzantine Gospel of 11th century, BnF, Cod. gr. 74 By Unknown author – Byzantine gospel. Paris, National Library., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9472307

O God of All the Living

Jesus said to them,
“The children of this age marry and remarry;
but those who are deemed worthy to attain to the coming age
and to the resurrection of the dead
neither marry nor are given in marriage.
They can no longer die,
for they are like angels;
and they are the children of God
because they are the ones who will rise.
That the dead will rise
even Moses made known in the passage about the bush,
when he called out ‘Lord, ‘
the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob;
and he is not God of the dead, but of the living,
for to him all are alive.”
Luke 20:27-38

O God of all the living,
the unconsuming flame,
O saving and deliv'ring,
bring us to life again.

You drew us through the Red Sea;
now draw us through our death—
but who knows what we shall be
when you restore our breath?

From dust, to dust returning,
then dust is glorified;
not ash in your love's burning, 
but endless warmth and light.

But all our life is ashen,
from birth to our decay.
What shall we be, new-fashioned,
within your glorious day?

The bush ablaze yet growing,
its green shoots never burned:
So shall we stand adoring
within your love, O Lord.

And there shall be no sandals
on all that holy ground
where we shall burn like candles
that never shall burn out.

Moses and the burning bush. Painting from Dura-Europos synagogue, 3rd century CE By Anonymous – Own work → https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Moses_bush.jpg → http://realhistoryww.com/world_history/ancient/Misc/Jesus/Jesus.htm, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=34210760

Splinters

O Christ, your kingdom overturns the nations
and shakes them 'til the dead spill from their tombs.
You set us free to follow where you take us,
a house where you have built us endless rooms.

O carpenter, you know the boards have splinters,
and yet you build with them the Father's hall.
If there is room for me, the worst of sinners,
oh, then your house must have a place for all.

O lord of all, who walked here weak and homeless,
when you come near the mountains start to quake.
Then come and shake us, make our graves crack open,
that all who sleep in silence might awake.

O shepherd, lead us through our dying's valley
into the many mansions of your house,
and let not one be left behind in shadows,
but gather every sinner in your arms.  Amen.

This elaborate image, *Representation of a Pageant Vehicle at the time of Performance*, was commissioned as the frontispiece to *A Dissertation on the Pageants or Dramatic Mysteries Anciently Performed at Coventry by the Trading Companies of that City*, (1825) by Thomas Sharp, (1770-1841). The image was designed and executed in copper engraving by David Gee (1793-1872). It recreates a 15th-century Passion play (*The Trial and Crucifixion of Christ*) by the Smiths’ Company of Coventry. Many of the details are based on written accounts, including pageant wagon design itself and the people in the street. The audience includes men, women, and children, along with armed guards for the wagon, men who drew the wagon from station to station, minstrels, clerics and a carpenter. The scene on stage depicts Christ, with hands bound, before an enthroned Pilate. Annas and Caiaphas are shown in mitred hats, and a boy carries a bowl of water for Pilate to wash his hands. Although somewhat speculative, the image has been influential and is often reproduced. By David Gee – Beinecke Library: http://brbl-dl.library.yale.edu/vufind/Record/3447379, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=33359094

You Go To Make a Place For Us

Jesus said to his disciples:
“Do not let your hearts be troubled.
You have faith in God; have faith also in me.
In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.
If there were not,
would I have told you that I am going to prepare a place for you?
And if I go and prepare a place for you,
I will come back again and take you to myself,
so that where I am you also may be.
Where I am going you know the way.”
Thomas said to him,
“Master, we do not know where you are going;
how can we know the way?”
Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life.
No one comes to the Father except through me.”
John 14:1-6

When the season’s readings dwell on the Last Supper Discourses, you get things like this:

You go to make a place for us,
O Christ who left the Father's side;
then teach us in that grace to trust
that we shall come where you abide.

The many mansions of your house,
the altars where your sparrows nest:
They call us on through toil and doubt
with hopes of shelter and of rest.

There is no bar upon the gate,
no lock upon the open door.
We come in each unhallowed state
and find that you have made us pure.

The bitter valley fills with springs
as you unfold yourself, the way,
and every step new comfort brings,
new truth, new life, in each new day.

And all who came forth from your love,
your blood and water mixed with earth,
turn back to where they started from:
the lifelong labor, second birth.

Come Lord, and lead us on the road,
O Christ the road, O Christ its end!
Come, gather us into your fold:
Eternal Shepherd, ever tend!

White-Crowned Sparrow / (*Zonotrichia leucophrys*). By Wolfgang Wander – Own work / http://www.pbase.com/image/83910026, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2564266

Come All, Come All

For today’s readings, to the tune KINGSFOLD (“I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say”):

There was a garden, ripe and rich
and ready to our hand,
but we, too greedy in our reach,
were from its verdure banned.
Through barren wastes we restless search,
in every grain of sand,
to find the bounty we beseech:
Oh, God, restore our land!

The God of mercy hears our cry
and ready makes the feast,
lays out the tables on the height
with seats for first and least.
“Come all! Come all!” his angels light
about our hands and feet;
we turn and rend them in reply
and fight for sand to eat.

But still the feast is ready there:
rich food and choicest wines
set in a garden more than fair,
ripe wheat and dripping vines.
Come all! This message still they bear
who bear with God's design;
if we will but his garment wear
we welcomed are to dine.

Cast off, cast off the dusty gown;
scrape off the caked-on mud,
and see a servant kneeling down
to wash our hands of blood,
to wash the feet that fin'lly found
the road that leads to good.
Come all at last where grace abounds
and feast on angels' food!