Lord, we sing to you.
We dance, we shout, we cry out.
We celebrate, we work, we gather together and tell your story.
We know you’ve done wonderful things.
Such wonderful things.
(I mean, you’ve put up with us this long….)
So we sing. We sing your song. We sing your praises.
Even when we are unsure. Even when we are confused.
Even when we are weary. Even when we are done.
Even when this whole world has got us down.
We sing for you.
Lately, it’s a new song.
I hear it in the streets. I hear it in the youth. I hear it in the corners where I didn’t think to look for it before. (You’ve always been playing it there.) I hear it in neighborhood meetings. I hear it from old-old friends. I hear it in your truth-tellers. I hear it in “others”. Sometimes, occasionally, I even hear it in your church.
Help us sing this new song. (Again.)
O, let the streets cry out, let the city parks roar, let the schools stomp a new beat, let the parking lots groan, let the high rises screech, let the abandoned factories whistle, let the weeds shimmy, let the dumpster squeak, let the libraries serenade, let the organizers wail, let our policies hum, let our institutions howl, let the voting booths yell, let the people thunder (AND THUNDER SOME MORE), let all these young prophets resound, and God, O God, please let your churches try and try and try to make noise again.
Holy One, this world is offering some SOUND.
Some of it is a mess.
All of it is real.
And all of it, for you.
We’re singing a new song.
O, won’t you hear our prayer.
(Inspired by Psalm 98, one of this Sunday’s lectionary texts)
The Rev. Erin Counihan serves as pastor at Oak Hill Presbyterian Church (PCUSA) in St. Louis, MO. She is a contributor to the RevGals book.
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