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Watching for sparks

Every second-year seminarian at Princeton is required to serve a year of field education, which is basically an internship in a church, hospital, or prison, wherein we serve as pastor, counselor, administrator, teacher--or more likely--some combination of all of the above. My field ed placement begins officially on September 18th, but I began attending the church last Sunday. The church is Broadway Presbyterian, which is on Broadway (appropriately enough) and 114th Street, right across from Columbia University. Broadway is an old (built in 1912), small (100 or so members), multiethnic, liturgically formal but theologically progressive church in an urban setting--pretty much the exact opposite of what I've experienced the last eight years--not that there's anything wrong with that (Tom's Restaurant, of Seinfeld fame, is two blocks away).

Last week the liturgy began with a meditation--three lines from a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

Earth's crammed with heaven,
and every common bush afire with God;
but only he who sees, takes off his shoes....


First of all, I don't remember EBB writing anything so clear and beautiful amid the countless stanzas of Aurora Leigh that I read in undergrad, but secondly, whoever wrote the call to worship (I believe the call to worship and prayer of confession are written anew each week) carried through that theme of religious awe. As someone who tends toward traditionalism as far as what gets read in church (sola scriptura), I was struck by the power and simplicity of the words. Here is the call to worship in its entirety. It is written in call-and-response format:

The ground is holy, the bush is ablaze
yet, really, this is nothing new.
All the Earth is the Lord's:
the gardens lovingly tended
the sandboxes stirred with laughter
the streets God's children walk, or drive, or sleep on
How is it that anyone wears shoes?

God's Spirit shines like the dawn:
in the sunlight flirting with the rose
in the candles on the birthday cake
in the fire of the prophet's passion
in the warmth of a bedside prayer
in the flame that flickers in every eye
How is it that we fail to turn aside and see?

Now is the time to take the time
to slow down, feel the earth we race upon
to watch for sparks and pay attention to voices
to wonder at God's name,
and listen for our own.
God is who God is. We are who we are.

The ground is holy, the bush is ablaze.
Now and forever.

Comments

  1. What possible comment can there be for this but a resounding AMEN! So be it, indeed!

    Mom

    ReplyDelete

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