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Glory

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It’s a Sunday feeling

For those who have a Sunday

To be speaking

And singing to the Lord

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The pastor cites

The shortest psalm

As an invocation,

Which is an invitation

More so a directive

To be singing

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Can you imagine David

Dancing first

Before the ark

When it was brought into

Jerusalem?

There was singing then

And all the instruments

We’ve heard about

That played

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Today is Mission Sunday at this church

So there are connections to the world

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Everyone’s invited

Everywhere

Not as a number

But as you,

You are invited

To meet Jesus

Through us

Not because we are messiahs

But because

We can quote him

Tell his story

Show you something of his love

For everyone

And the hope that the whole human world

Might be saved,

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Which is God’s wish

But not God’s will

For God has mitigated God

In favoring our will

And our decisions

Yes, it’s the reason why

The world is so flawed

And screws up so badly

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That according to the story

Has made us

The silent planet in the universe

Burning other planets

With what happened in the garden

And then

Going quiet

While the planet’s fate is determined

Of itself

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Then there will be noise

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But here is David

In Jerusalem

And there is great noise

Locally

That celebrates

That helps to consecrate

The presence and the symbol

And our rendering of faith

In holy God

And in each other

As neighbors

And a nation

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The world will not know you, Lord;

And nations will fall

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We could wish it were not so,

And we do

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But not everyone will be there

In the sky

The circle won’t be broken

But our hearts,

Well,

They are other matters

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It’s a Sunday feeling

For those who have a Sunday

And take one

Or on another day

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We have been ransomed

From kidnapping,

From the prisons

Huge or small—all intimate

When they should not

Have to be

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The world violates our souls

And yet we believe

And from the ashes

Of all sins consumed

At last,

We shall rise

Who choose to rise

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The glory of the Lord

In homely ways

Inside the heart

We do not understand

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How something so

Cosmically grand

Can live in something

So small

As our souls,

One soul by one

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Then there is the glory

That we read about

And then imagine:

The universe made straight

While also bending low,

We with that

And all the Earth

That knows at last

This is it,

The certainty of God

In blinding presence

That will not hurt our eyes

And the song of angels,

Unbinded song

That should destroy

But will not touch eardrums

Adversely

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The glory of the Lord

Clearly

All there is,

Compelling

As to break our souls

Though it will not—in fact,

We’ll never had been

Better,

Freer,

Then to get

Our next assignments

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Photo by Christian Cagni on Unsplash

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