Author: ppadmin

There never was a more holy age than ours, and never a less.

There is no less holiness at this time—as you are reading this—than there was the day the Red Sea parted.

There is no whit less might in heaven or on earth than there was the day Jesus said "Maid, arise" to the centurion's daughter, or the day Peter walked on water.

Rejoice in the presence of those who resist the counsel of the arrogant, who sidestep the influence-peddlers, who refuse to participate in political payoffs.

Blessed One, multiply their presence in our midst! And may we have the courage to be among their number!

Welcome such women and men and children. Through their lives all Life is served. Like strong trees planted by the water, their fruits are abundant and their prosperity is shared by all.

Six days after Jesus’ disciples reveal, yet again, that they are clueless about the nature of messianic life—that the day is coming when all lording will cease—he takes three of them on a hilltop hike for a blinding encounter with history’s aim.

Coming down the mountain, they immediately meet a child suffering epileptic seizure.

With Peter and James and brotherly John we ascend to the mountain encounter.

Women: Arise, then, women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts, whether your baptism be that of water or of tears!

Men: Speak up, that all may hear!

W: Say firmly: “We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies.

The People of Mercy, gathered round their table of bounty, demanding more.

More, more, more. We need more faith.

But the Blessed One, remembered in the grain and the grape, leaped again from the tomb of scarcity to declare:

Yahweh’s appointed messengers took a deep breath as they stepped from the shadows into Pharaoh’s presence. And then spoke sharply, with fire in their bellies:

Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Let my people go!

But Pharaoh was not impressed. “Get back to work you shiftless immigrants. You think you can just waltz into this country and take jobs from tax-paying citizens! You dirty greasers don’t know how good you’ve got it here!”

“I am but a child!” you say.
“What business do you have with people of no claim,
of no clout, of no clue about the road to repentance
and the return from exile?”

Aahh, oh clueless one, of no claim and no clout,
you know not that of which you speak!
Before your mother’s maiden life, I knew you;
before your father’s toddling feet,
I planned your sinews and mapped your countenance.

O child of consecrated lips and covenant voice,
     relinquish your fear!
           You shall not be put to shame.
                 Your Refuge is secure.
It is you, oh child of destined grace,
     who will utter the Word that will shatter all enmity.

Listen! Listen for the sound of the Beloved, Who comes leaping upon the mountains and bounding over the hills. Strain your ears for the sound of this Voice.

Listen for the Voice of our Beloved!

Behold the Beloved, standing like a gazelle behind our wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice.

Incline your ears, Holy Harbor of refuge.

Give shelter for every storm-tossed and wind-whipped mariner.

The great sea of discontent is unleashed against your armada of hope.

Men: Our hearts sag with sorrow when the history of such misery is unveiled.

Women: Such truthfulness comes at a cost. But worthy is the truth.

M: What good can come from such vile remembrance? Can we not safely and silently dispose of such memory?