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
