Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Pentecost +3, Yr C)

VOICE OF ELIJAH
(1 Kings 17: 17-24)

“The Lord listened to the voice of Elijah”

Where are you now, Elijah, while
children of the poor grow ill
with hunger and fear and hopelessness?

Where are you now while women widowed
by war and crime and disease
cry out in despair?

Where are you now, Elijah, while
our fevered world drifts in the grip
of deathly powers of greed?

Where are you now while dreams of justice
grow cold upon beds of pain?

Let your voice be heard again,
O prophet of passionate praying.

Let it crack with compassion for the ones
who shed the blood-hot tears of grief.

Let it shake with rage at the halls of power
so deafened to others’ need.

Let it rise like a shout of joy for the work
of love that brings hope and healing.

Let the words of life ring out again,
O prophet, and in your speaking
may we know that it is our voice you use,
our voice for which God is listening.

Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King

Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Pentecost +2, Yr C)

A PRAYER
(1 Kings 8: 22-23, 41-43, Luke 7: 1-10)

Come through the doors of our house, Lord.
Let us admit you whether we feel
        worthy or unworthy,
             holy or sinful,
                 faithful or wavering.
Come through the doors of our house just the same.

Come to the house of our hearts, Lord,
        our searching hearts, our contented hearts,
             our caring, giving, loving hearts,
                  our needy, angry, anxious hearts,
come to the house of our hearts in joy or pain.

Come to the house of our days, Lord,
        our happy days, our hurting days,
             our bitter days, our bright days,
                  our struggling, sorrowing, sad days,
come to the house of our days in sun or in rain.

Come to the house of our world, Lord,
        our wondrous world, our wounded world,
             our teeming world, our tortured world,
                  our singing, shouting, crying world,
come to the house of our world, and let us be changed.

Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King

Poem For Pentecost Sunday (Yr C)

SUDDENLY THERE CAME A SOUND. . .
(Acts 2: 1-21)

It was one of those days where
leaves are thrashed
from tree branches writhing
under a racing sky,
and my childhood friend playing
outdoors with me wondered:
does the wind
ever stop blowing?

And does it stop somewhere, he asked again,
or just keep going around and around the world?

Back then I said I didn’t know
but now I know there came a day
when a wind began in a certain house
that filled with a light like flame,

and that wind had the roar of justice,
and that wind had the rush of love,
and that wind had the whisper of peace and compassion,
and it carried the words of hope and joy
to an anxious and needy world,

and it was gentle enough to touch the wounded soul
and strong enough to stir the ever seeking hearts
of women and men, young and old,
from city to distant shores,

and it pulled down walls of distrust and fear
and threw open doors of possibility,
and oaks of hatred have bent in its path
and palisades of pain have fallen to its strength
and new life has spread like scattered seed

and yes, my friend, that wind
circles the world
and no,
it has never stopped blowing.

Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King

Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Easter 7, Yr C)

THAT ALL MAY BE ONE
(John 17: 20-26)

May your people be one
as the seas are one
though salting a thousand shores.

May your people be one
as the wind is one
though whisper, though rush, though roar.

May your people be one
as the birds are one
though they sing a thousand songs.

May your people be one
as our prayers are one
though voiced in a thousand tongues.

May your people be one
as the light is one
though made of the colours of the rainbow.

May your people be one
as your love is one –
your love for all people, we know.

May your people be one
as you are one:
you in Christ, and Christ in you.

May your people be one
as the Spirit is one,
moving in us, moving through.

Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King