PENTECOST
Today we feel the wind beneath our wings.
Today the hidden fountain flows and plays.
Today the church draws breath at last and sings.
As every flame becomes a Tongue of praise.
This is the feast of fire, air, and water,
Poured out and breathed and kindled into earth.
The earth herself awakens to her maker
And is translated out of death to birth.
The right words come today in their right order
And every word spells freedom and release.
Today the gospel crosses every border.
All tongues are loosened by the Prince of Peace.
Today the lost are found in His translation.
Whose mother-tongue is Love, in every nation.
Malcolm Guite
Tadao Tanaka (Japanese, 1903–1995),
I beg you, O God, to reveal to me the mystery of Your love. Let Your
love be to me a new dawn at the end of a long night of gloom. Let Your
love be to me a new plan, showing the way of spiritual slavery. And let
that plan be so simple that I can understand and follow it. Your love is
like a white dove with orange flames bursting from its wings. The Dove
brings the promise of peace to my troubled soul, and the flames promise joy to
my miserable heart.
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