Preachin' One

It's three quarters-past 10 on a Sunday


The regular crowd shuffles in

The usuals all have their special seats

Sit there once; just don't do it again!

And the ushers have handed out bulletins

And told you to silence your phone


We're here sharing a prayer we call brokenness


‘Cause it's better than prayin' alone

La la la, di da da
la la, di da da da dum

Tell us a tale, you're the preachin' one


Tell us a tale today


Well, we're all in the mood for a parable


And you've got us leanin' that way. 

It's a pretty good crowd for a holiday


And the treasurer gives me a nod


But he knows it's NOT me

they've been comin' to see


'Cause they wanna get closer to God

And the folks in the pews are a happy lot


Like family, they're quick to share cheer

And they all sit up straight

and throw cash in the plate,

And say, "Rev, what are you doin' here?"

La la la, di da da
la la, di da da da dum

Saint Paul was a traveling evangelist

who never had time for a wife

He wrote congregations

from all sorts of nations

Teaching grace as a new way of life

We are gathered to kindle a memory


Though it seems we've forgotten the plot 


So it hurts and it heals

When it gets in our feels


But this story is all that we've got.

Tell us a tale you're the preachin' one


Tell us a tale today


Well, we're all in the mood for a parable


And you've got us leanin' that way

Now Joan, in the choir, is a friend of mine


She sings from her heart so free


She listens a while

And she's quick with a smile


Though there are parts she just won't let us see

She passes me a note as the service ends

"Your sermons offer sacred space, 

But the life that I lead is so far from that 

Please pray I can live and breathe grace."

Oh, la la la, di da da
la la, di da da da dum

Tell us a tale you're the preachin' one


Tell us a tale today


Well, we're all in the mood for a parable


And you've got us leanin' that way

© 2016 Todd Jenkins

Insecurious

It's that limited curiosity

 overwhelmed with fear,

  keeping us from

   opening ourselves wide

    to the universe's wild imaginings;

     so hunkered down

      in our own little world,

       trying to hang onto

        and control everything possible,

         that grace dances

          right under our noses

           completely unnoticed,

  

            love sings harmony

             we cannot hear,

  

              life wafts beyond us.

               © 2016 Todd Jenkins

Sloth

Photo by Kendall Cox

 What if the 1950s

weren't the church's heyday

but instead, were its days of sloth,

when there was no competition

and all we had to do

was open our doors and everyone

would come, because there was

nowhere else to go and nothing else

 to do on Sunday morning?

What if we need to develop

a completely different model

for being church in a world

long past the simplicity

of unquestioned exclusivity?

What if the torn fabric

of our culture has much less

to do with its failure

to rigidly adhere to our

own particular list

of biblically extracted behaviors,

and is much more about

our own lack of enthusiasm

for practicing grace together

in communities where all have both

a seat and voice at the table?

What if the church's purpose

is to equip members

to reflect hope, share love,

and nourish a hungry and thirsty world

with heaping servings

of dignity, humility, and respect?

What if we actually put

our time, energy, hearts, and money

into doing just that, instead

of trying to figure out how

to get back to the "good old days"?

© 2016 Todd Jenkins

As If

Sculpture by Sterling Goller-Brown

Two logs were set afire.

  Some closed their eyes,

    minding their own business,

      as if wood wasn't really burning,

    while others critiqued, judged,

  and blamed the logs themselves,

as if it were spontaneous combustion.

Then five more logs were

  tossed into the fire.

    As the incendiary heat rises,

      it's difficult for any trees

        to deny the inferno.

      We can keep thumping matches

    across the strike-pad, or

  we can dig trenches around

our own little grove, or

we can speak and act with conviction,

  so that no more fuel is added,

    no more logs are lost.

What's it going to be?

© 2016 Todd Jenkins

Too High

The cost is outrageous

for all these priceless lives,

secretly calculated in hearts too small

to hold Love's grand truth;

too scared to see

all of us have the same value;

too busy counting and comparing

to feel the ground beneath us quaking,

the skies above us leaking.

We shrink because we sense difference,

recoil with superiority's confidence,

while the universe expands and

diversifies, and the holy one weeps.

© 2016 Todd Jenkins

Heartspeak

Ichawaynochaway Creek, Newton, GA

When, "Our thoughts and

prayers are with you."

becomes the end and

not the means,

we have lost

our spiritual momentum.

   Too often, we see prayer

   as a request for God

   to move, so we don't have to.

      The core of prayer is

      a shifting of hearts;

      primarily our own.

         We speak our angst,

         cry our frustration,

         groan the unspeakable;

      and in the stillness between

      syllables, tears, and breaths,

      a different note vibrates.

   Maybe it's a new note,

   perhaps a dissonant one;

   but, always, it calls us

   toward the circle.

Whatever else we imagine

it to be, prayer is a request

for inclusion in the sacred journey.

If you're willing to move,

but don't know where or how,

let your heart speak.

The rest is not up to you,

but you will likely

find yourself up to it.

© 2016 Todd Jenkins