Born of Spirit: A Song of Nicodemus
for Nathan at the celebration of
your ordination
The wind blows where it chooses,
and you hear the sound of it,
but you do not know where it comes
from
or where it goes.
So it is with everyone
who is born of the Spirit.
JOHN 3:8
See the scrolls and volumes on the
shelf,
reams of pages written,
countless sermons spoken (many
forgotten)—
words upon words
within words.
Know that all speech of the Beloved
remains one step (or more)
removed from the Source.
All of our descriptions are stammerings.
We speak our holy names,
and utter precise explanations.
Some are exquisite and beautiful,
some seem quite reasonable,
and altogether possible.
Our utterances are stones, piled into
cairns,
marking a path through wilderness.
They show us the way,
we hope.
Sometimes they are joined
with the mortar of fear and time
and they become a shrine,
a sanctuary,
a fortress.
“Lord, it is good for us to be in this
place!”
Only, we discover that to remain in this place
is to lose our
Way.
We must go back down the mountain.
We are called to wander from the
well-lit path,
away from roads of exposition,
into the wild lands of encounter.
So leave the books to collect their
dust,
leave the parchment bare,
trust that the silence will not fail
you.
Know that “blessed are the beginners”
and so are all who listen for wind,
and wonder in the dark.
Here you will know Jacob's struggle,
and blessing,
and wound.
Here you will know Mary's joy,
and surrender,
and lament.
Here you will dwell in the Teacher's
questions:
“What are you looking for?”
“Who do you say that I am?”
“Are you willing to drink the cup
that I drink?”
Do not rush you response.
Live fully your momentary answers,
and live the possibilities together
with your sisters and your brothers.
Listen for the Great Wind that blows where it
chooses.
Let it pass through you,
that you might be born of it again,
and yet again.
