What Am I?

My friend Alex, who featured a few posts ago, is starting an 'Outdoor Church' which means he is taking Holy Communion into Gloucester Park today, for Christians on the margins, who don't feel comfortable in buildings. 

There are a thousand -and - one Canon Laws he is breaking, I'm glad to say. (She who sees what Canon Law has turned the Body of Christ into, and thinks its time a few were broken.) He's going to be a priest one day, so I guess he needs to get this rule-breaking out of his system, though personally, I think he should stick with it. No good asking me to conform, I'm over sixty, on the last lap, and don't much care what I do these days, as long it's ... Well, no matter.

Anyway, Alex asked me to preach today at Outdoor Church. Going with my reckless tendency to say 'yes' to practically anything, I agreed. He's asked me to speak for five minutes on 'The Holy Spirit'. I laughed!

Then I wrote, and this is what appeared:

Alex, I should have said,

I am not a preacher-

I'm a poet!

My job is to creep in under your armour

Rip away at what you think you believe

And help you to find who you really are.

Listen! 

Where the Spirit of The Lord Is THERE IS FREEDOM

The Kingdom of God is not  over here or over there

But tucked away within you

And WHO is it who occupies your soul

Your, My,

Hope of Glory?

The Christ, of course, you whisper, into the silence.

Go then. To Him.

Take up your freedom

Lay down your wanting of empty things

Go dig within for the pearl you sold you land for!

You WILL FIND HIM

Welling up from beneath your heart

Inviting you to dance or to weep

Calling you quietly

Insistently

To your deepest Being

And your highest Self.

One hundred and forty-three words. One minute's worth of a lifetime's experience. It'll do.