The Lord brought me to Tabor,
To the mountain of Galilee,
And the elders were there—
The wise and the sage,
The foolish and the proud,
Along with a host,
All the tribes of the King.
The sun rose upon every one,
And when the afternoon rains came
Not a soul was spared.
And the word of the Lord
Rose up from the ground,
Rose up like a city,
Like a great city with towers
And battlements and courts,
Courts of a great temple
In honor of the Almighty.
The word of the Lord
Was a great city,
The city a kingdom,
An ancient kingdom rising up
From a mighty promontory,
A vast dais of three sides,
A solid foundation of stone
Thrust above the flood,
Far above the depths of time.
The Spirit hovered over the waters.
I saw the word of the Lord,
And the word formed words—
Words within the word.
And I saw the words
As they rose up,
And the words spoke as I watched,
The words rising up from a scroll,
Speaking with their own voice—
The voice of the Lord,
Words from my youth
And from the sands of time.
The elders listened—
The sage and the fool—
As the words rose and spoke.
I know not what the words were—
What others might say of them later—
But this is what I heard
From the words of the word,
From the mouth of the Lord.
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me—
Good news for the poor.
Behold! the favorable year of the Lord—
Good news for those who mourn.
The tongue of the Lord speaks justice—
Good news for the meek.
The covenant of the Lord endures forever—
Good news for souls emptied by the world.
The sacrifices of the Lord are a broken heart—
Good news for the merciful.
The Earth is the Lord’s, and all it contains—
Good news for the pure in heart.
The Lord’s angel pitches camp around His people—
Good news for those who pursue peace.
The presence of the Lord is not far off—
Good news for those despised and ridiculed.
Rejoice and repent
For we wake not from this dream!
The anointed of the Lord is at hand—
Good news for all the nations.
Our redeemer lives, God with us.
His name is Savior, seed of Abraham.
And his sandals tread lightly on the hills
Of a people who contend with God.
For the first time (as I conceive it) Peter gets totally outside himself in response to Jesus’ ministry. Is it because he’s now been designated an Apostle? Is it because of the power of the “Sermon on the Mount”? Is the Spirit finally moving in him stronger than his ego and self-doubt?
Or, is it just the confluence of certain influences in the author of the poem?
I was mulling over how to approach this piece when I attended a Lectio Divina session with my Spiritual Direction group via CFDM. During the session, which was pretty mystical in its effect, a lot of imagery (and words) came to me (and others) which found its way into this poem. Coinciding with that, Jenn and I had had some pretty profound discussions in the preceding days about the “Beatitudes” and their significance.
In any event… Peter writes in “prophetic” mode here. Enjoy.