Pentecost +1 - Year B
In the year that Jesus died, we experienced an astral spirit nicknamed, “Holy”, in a locked room. Seraphs in the form of winged fire rested upon us. The foundation shook and smoke filled the room.
Our first response was being lost. Jesus Crucified, ourselves overcome.
Then a voice from the flame joined my voice, “Our waiting is fullfilled. Power has arrived. Our fears departed, our weeping blotted up.” Between the two — a third voice came — a voice in another language. And together the voices of flame and self and the unknown started on a journey. “We’re ready as we’ll ever be. Let’s go.”
Without comprehending we began listening and encouraging more listening. We ignored our mind’s babble, paused our ear's attending to a beckoning siren, softened our eye’s search for a next shiny bauble. And we found a healing in an expansive and expanding company of diverse voices.
Cities have lain waste long enough. Exiles have been away long enough. Let’s talk. Let’s re-decide to use all the gifts available, discarding none. The least voice adds to our common wisdom. We go forth to learn other experiences, other ways to say, “L’chaim!” We find ourselves returned from Babel to Paradise.
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