“Let us build a house where prophets speak…”

“This is the Spirit of truth…who will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you.” John 17a, 26b

The chalkboard in the back of the sanctuary asked the following question, “what is Pride Pentecost?”

The word my tongue paused on is truth.

Questions of truth raise suspicions in us, because questions of truth are also questions of trust.

In what can we trust?

In what do we trust?

How relevant then that Jesus’ word for the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of truth.

Old things have passed away…the Spirit of truth has descended upon us, in the fullness of color.

In a darker sanctuary, on an overcast morning, additions of color stand out in patches.

Wind is here.

Air is moving from drafts to gusts, and we are invited to sway with the naturalness our bodies feel.

There’s something innate in our gesture of movement, an orientation to be aligned with outer rhythm.

Sound contributes to a tone of fullness, and as we become full our ability to rest increases.

A little like being drunk you’re freer to think less consciously.

You’re freer to synchronize with the sound waves and cold air spasms and bright lights radiating a glare.

As you close your eyes the last visual is orange.

Fiery orange like the embers rising in a burning fire.

Moving up. Moving in gusts and precociously.

Moving with our eyes wanting to follow.

Moving with our bodies that don’t need to be told to follow.

Moving with our hearts that can slow down, sensing less danger.

Moving with our voices that repeat that prophets are being invited to speak.

Speaking with trust that the Spirit of truth asks us to place in intuition, body autonomy, visions of less danger.

Speaking with truth that challenges how we’ve posed a resistance to what we sense as truth.

Hearing and confessing that the Spirit of truth is not controlled by fear, by precedent, or by disbelief.

Hearing and willing our bodies to embody the trust in the Spirit of truth that our bodies are still learning.

Being gentle with our heads, and being innately lead to give them less control over us.

Feeling what we cannot allow ourselves to know.

Truth and trust and our response are all connected, each fluid, inseparably experienced.

May the gift of queerness be a truth we receive, and may it animate how we listen for God.

Writer. Thinker. Facilitator. Advocate. Invested in accountability for power based violence, creative initiatives, and meaningful, nuanced dialoguing.

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