Open-air Preaching
Read: 1 Kings 8:27-30, 56-60
Where the grass was once green
with potluck picnics and potato-sack races,
there now stands the bare bones
of a sanctuary-to-be. Steel arches rise
from the dust, like the ribs of a prehistoric giant.
Standing in the empty belly of this beast,
my brother and I were trespassers, stumbling
across something best left to the experts.
But we were the experts. Dusk and dust
settled behind us, small footsteps kicking up
fragments: limestone, cedar, steel.
Our eyes are drawn skyward, breathing in
the warm summer air. We exhale exaltations,
pretending to preach from pulpits.
Piles of bricks and bags of cement steady our hands.
With all the verve of John Wesley
we proclaim great and glorious words,
with nothing to echo against: Do all the good you can,
in all the ways you can, to all the souls you can,
in every place you can, at all the times you can,
with all the zeal you can, as long as ever you can.
We will see pews full of people,
we will hear songs of praise from the choir loft,
we will feel warm sun through stained glass.
But for now, we are just two small humans,
with two small hands each.
Dear Lord, we thank you that, even when we seem too small, we can still see the great things you would have us do. Keep us ever mindful of them, ever hopeful for them, and ever diligent in them, that we may be used in bringing others to your kingdom, and in bringing your kingdom on the Earth. Amen.
Katy Van de Putte
