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AUTHOR’S NOTE: I have been writing poetry on the seasons of the Christian year as part of my ongoing contributions to Wild Goose Publications, based in Scotland. As the world’s Christians approach Pentecost this year, however, we feel a special connection with those first Christians who were grappling with the unthinkable trauma of Jesus’s death—and the ways they would try to live in light of his resurrection. As I offer up this Pentecost poetry in 2020, my own heart is breaking at the ongoing violence in our world. The timeless question that echoes down the centuries is: How shall we live in such a world? I have set this piece in the public square of a barroom, much as the first followers of Jesus were struggling in the public places of their era.
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Pente-costly!
By BENJAMIN PRATT
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Act 1
Three friends
In a bar
Drunk on dogma.
No soul-searching
So
No joy
No peace.
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Babel!
Words, words, words
Shot at
Each other.
Nothing shared
No listening
No hearing
No spirit
No communion.
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Acts 2
Three friends
In a bar
Sharing wine
Laughter
Talking with each other
Surrounded by
Smooth jazz
Bullets, bullets, bullets
Shot
At
Them.
The biggest one
Shares his body
Shielding both under him.
Taking bullets for them.
How do the two friends who live
Say thank you to the
One
Who dies for them?
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Act 3
Maybe
Like him
They can pour out their own
Spirit
Sacrificially
Bringing peace, joy and justice—
Acting from love
Hope
Gratitude.
Always listening to
Different-tongued voices.
Gratefully forming
Communion.
And, service.
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