Pentecost/Process

My practice for several years has been to read the Sunday readings early in the week and compose a hymn or poem based on them. Lately, this has yielded double results: Something in the readings strikes me as good material for a congregational hymn, but something else grabs me on a more personal or narrative level. So I’ve been writing two pieces a week based on the Sunday readings and sharing them on separate days. I’m traveling this week, though, so I’m sharing both here today. First, a congregational hymn, which tends to be more of a prayer from the community or exhortation to the community. This one is prayer:

You led us through the desert then
and brought us to the promised land.
O Spirit, lead us once again
until we reach the journey's end!

Let whispers of the mighty wind
that blew 'til water stood as walls
blow gently now across our skin
in loving answer to our call.

These little pillars of the flame
that led us onward through the sea:
Ignite our hearts to speak the name
of Christ who sets the captives free.

O, Breath that moved upon the seas
and moves forever where it wills,
come fill us with your perfect peace
who trust that you are moving still.

O wind that moves us, move through us:
Enkindle flames wheree'er we go
that all the world in exodus
may follow where your breezes blow.

This is the less congregational take, a personal narrative spoken by someone who was in the room:

And suddenly there came a sound,
a driving wind  to overturn
our lives and set them gently down
'mid flames that dance but do not burn.

We who were captive to our fears
have seen a light, and we go free.
These flames have opened eyes and ears;
and now our shackled tongues will speak.

He once appeared, there where we were,
and stood as close as I to you:
This wind just like his whisper stirs,
and all of us are born anew.

Today the stirring of his breath
is wind and fire and thund'rous roar.
Our whole world toppled with his death—
this Spirit builds it up once more.

Take off your shoes and heed the voice
that speaks out of the living flame,
for Christ has died—O earth, rejoice!—
and Christ is risen—bless his name!

Often, I write the congregational version first, and that helps me figure out what I really want to focus on in approaching the readings. And then I write the version where I really focus on that, even if it wouldn’t work for a hymn. One of these days, I will probably stop posting both, but I think writing both is good practice.

Deckengemälde Ausgießung des Heiligen Geistes in der Oberseifersdorfer Kirche Photo By ErwinMeier – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=68151920

Confirmation

Descend, O Spirit: Touch our minds;
create our thoughts anew
always to seek the just and right,
true goodness to pursue.
As you are blowing where you will,
so let us wander, too,
and seek out every space you fill
and ever follow you.

Descend, O Spirit: Touch our hearts;
be rooted in our souls
to heal each weary, wounded part
and make the broken whole.
And as you played upon the waves,
let us play in the world
creating messages of grace
that show your love unfurled.

Descend, O Spirit: Touch our hands
and put your strength in us
to labor for our Savior's plans,
the kingdom of his love.
And as you speak in many tongues
that every land has heard,
so let us join your endless song
in action and in word.

Detail from a fresco at the Karlskirche in Vienna By Johann Michael Rottmayr – selfmade by User:Manfreeed, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=9396330

Enemies

For Pentecost:

From the thistles east of Eden
where our sorrow soaked the ground,
where the stones cried out in grieving
Cain had struck his brother down,
we were always locked in combat,
always at each other's throats
'til a falling flame changed all that,
'til it touched us and we spoke.

From the rising heights of Babel
to the walls fo Jericho
we have lived each day a battle,
turned our swords against a foe.
'Til a rushing wind from elsewhere
whispered in our hearts a word,
'til it turned our swords to plowshares,
'til it touched us and we heard.

We are enemies and others;
we are Parthians and Medes;
we are killers of our brothers,
but the truth will make us free
when it fills us with one Spirit,
sings one song in every tongue,
when it speaks, when we can hear it,
then the Word will make us one.

Tower of Babel by M. C. Escher. Woodcut, 1928. By M. C. Escher – https://arthive.com/escher/works/200099~Tower_of_Babel, PD-US, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=8162683

Tongues

For Pentecost:

As a body is one though it has many parts,
and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body,
so also Christ.
For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body,
whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons,
and we were all given to drink of one Spirit.
—1 Corinthians 12:12-13

There is no language in the world
where it cannot be said,
no speech in which it can't be heard:
the hope beyond our death.
In every tongue we find the words,
in everyone the breath.
In all of them, Christ came to serve
and share the broken bread.

There is no barrier in him
to Parthian or Mede;
no man or woman's light is dimmed;
in him, all slaves are freed.
The body might deny its limbs,
but he has washed those feet
and poured himself out for our sins
who bids us sit and eat.

As one we come before him now
with all our grace and fault,
as one bring every gift and doubt
in answer to his call.
Our shepherd will not cast us out
when he is all in all,
who sends the Spirit in its hour
as tongues of fire fall.

The Pentecost depicted in a 14th-century Missal By Unknown author – National Library of Wales, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44768060

From All the Four Winds, Come

Then the LORD said to me:
Prophesy to the spirit, prophesy, son of man,
and say to the spirit: Thus says the Lord GOD:
From the four winds come, O spirit,
and breathe into these slain that they may come to life.
I prophesied as he told me, and the spirit came into them;
they came alive and stood upright, a vast army.
Then he said to me:
Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel.
They have been saying,
“Our bones are dried up,
our hope is lost, and we are cut off.”
Therefore, prophesy and say to them: Thus says the Lord GOD:
O my people, I will open your graves
and have you rise from them,
and bring you back to the land of Israel.
Then you shall know that I am the LORD,
when I open your graves and have you rise from them,
O my people!
I will put my spirit in you that you may live,
and I will settle you upon your land;
thus you shall know that I am the LORD.
I have promised, and I will do it, says the LORD.
Ezekiel 37:1-14

From all the four winds, come,
O Spirit of our God:
Give back the hope that's long been gone;
revive our buried hearts.
Breathe into these dry bones;
bring life from barren ground.
Restore our voices, or the stones
your praises will cry out.

Pour mercy on our souls,
your waters on our roots,
that we may grow back, healed and whole,
enrobed in greenest shoots—
not as we dressed at first
to cover shame and sin,
but in the new life bursting forth:
your Spirit in our skin.

Your life within us burns,
but flames cannot consume
that hearts now evergreen, returned
from deep within our tombs.
So we are whole again,
knit up in flesh and blood,
if only you will send the rain:
your mercy as a flood.

Epitaph ( 16th century ) showing the vision of Ezekiel ( 37,4 ) and the ressurrection of the dead ( City museum, Wels/ Austria ) By Wolfgang Sauber – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=10394722

There’s No Voice

There's no voice if you are silent;
there's no echo in the dark.
There's no flame if you don't light it,
though we strive to strike the spark.

So my heart shall yet be formless
and my soul a waste and void
'til you speak a word and form them,
'til you fill me with your voice.

I am earth awaiting water,
to be furrowed for the seed.
Shape this clay into a daughter:
Spirit, speak again in me.

Take my earth for your remaking:
Unheard thunder in the ground.
Though subsonic, set me quaking
with the rumble of your sound.

Then, when I cannot yet hear it,
let me trust the word that springs
from your endlessness, O Spirit,
from the voice that in me sings.

In the hiss of spark on tinder,
in the bass that shakes my chest,
give me song to praise the singer
or to call the silence blest.

The Pentecost depicted in a 14th-century Missal By Unknown author – National Library of Wales, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=44768060

Creator Spirit

When the time for Pentecost was fulfilled,
they were all in one place together.
And suddenly there came from the sky
a noise like a strong driving wind,
and it filled the entire house in which they were.
Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire,
which parted and came to rest on each one of them.
And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit
and began to speak in different tongues,
as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim.
Acts 2:1-11

Creator Spirit, God's outrushing breath,
the mighty wind that stirs our little dust,
blow once again and lift us out of death.
Breathe in us still, the very air we trust.

In you we live; in you we move and are,
and yet you move in us: You fill our lungs.
You fire our minds.  You thunder in our hearts.
We breathe you out as music on our tongues.

You fill our bodies: Fill the one we make
as hands and feet of Christ sent to the field.
Come, blow in every breath his body takes.
Renew the whole, and let each part be healed.

O gift of God, come sanctify our gifts.
As we present them, may we be transformed.
Come make of us Christ's hands that upward lift;
we will become Christ's bread for all the world.  Amen.

Ingeborg Psalter 02f 1200 (cropped) Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=106666589

American Pentecost

We are white and Black, my Lord,
and every color seen,
Native, or just from the port,
new money and has-been,
colonizer, unwashed horde,
and all things in-between,
yet we hear your holy Word,
and we know what you mean.

How is it that you speak to us
in every language known?
We are torn, Lord, each of us
from every other one.
When you came to preach you,
we made the cross your throne;
still you see and reach for us
through all divisions sown.

Sow again your piercing seed
and harrow up our earth;
show again the grace we glean
by springing up to serve.
Flourished wheat and sprouting weed
to you have precious worth:
Turn us all a springtime green,
the color of new birth.

By Niccolò da Bologna – http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artObjectDetails?artobj=254371, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1977717

Blow the Trumpet, Zion

It shall come to pass I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions. Even upon your male and female servants, in those days, I will pour out my spirit. I will set signs in the heavens and on the earth, blood, fire, and columns of smoke; The sun will darken, the moon turn blood-red, Before the day of the LORD arrives, that great and terrible day.
Joel 3:1-4

For Pentecost, to the Ralph Vaughan Williams tune, KING’S WESTON:

Lord, send out your Spirit,
and awake our hearts.
Though we cringe and fear it,
rouse our drowsing parts,
lest we fail to hear it,
that your Word imparts:
Your judgment is nearing.
Even now, it starts.

Blow the trumpet, Zion;
weep this dreadful day.
Weep, for Judah's lion
comes to judge his prey.
All that we rely on
he will cast away.
Our hearts, standing trial,
bow beneath his sway.

Spirit, fall like lightning,
flaring down this night.
Come, our vision bright'ning
toward the dawning light.
In your thunders fright'ning
you have shown your might.
Come, Spirit, enlight'ning;
teach us truth and right.

By Stefan Lochner – *Last Judgment*, c. 1435. Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne. Postcard, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=153939

How Many Are Your Wonders

Send forth your spirit, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth.
Psalm 104:30

For Pentecost, tune the tune ES IST EIN ROS ENTSPRUNGEN (“Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming”).

How many are your wonders,
the world your works unfold:
Heaven your glory thunders;
by stars your tales are told,
but we in darkness bold
are tearing all asunder
your wonders manifold.

You, Lord, have made us mighty;
indeed, we fear no fall.
Proud clamor of our fighting
drowns out the orphan's call.
But you, who made us all
call us to be uniting
our pow'r to serve the the small.

Come, Spirit, world renewing;
come, touch us with your grace,
creation reimbuing,
your light on every face.
And all through time and space,
reach out, our hearts pursuing:
Catch us in your embrace!