Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Acts 2:1-21

For Pentecost I have been invited to be a part of the centennial celebration of Normandy Presbyterian Church in Normandy, Tennessee. I have written a song for the occasion that tries to capture some of the flavor of Pentecost as the church marks its milestone. Christians think of Acts 2 as "defining" Pentecost for the church, which, in many respects it does. But, of course, the Acts narrative is built on the Jewish Shavuot tradition that celebrates the giving of Torah in the wilderness. The gift of law through Moses brings to completion the Exodus revelation of God that began to unfold with Passover and escape from Egypt. The Christian scripture interprets Christ as the fulfillment of that Torah given to the gathered people making their pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The sanctity of the living Torah descends as God's very spirit into the flesh and blood of the apostles.

Still, behind all this - perhaps only as a memory - is a harvest festival: the turning of the year at the conclusion of the barley harvest and the beginning of the wheat harvest (Exodus 34:22-26). We can see Acts 2 as a kind of harvest in its own right: a harvest of extraordinary blessing on ordinary people that breaks through the old barriers that separate them from God and one another. Indeed, this blessing of spirit is a recurring motif throughout the whole Luke-Acts corpus.

"Six Mile Hill" is based on the name of a grade that takes the CSX rail line from the town of Tullahoma down to the village of Normandy. I was reminded after writing the song that the actual grade is called "Seven Mile Hill". For the sake of poetic license we'll just say I subtracted a mile to get one syllable. The road along the tracks marks the daily route of many people as they go to their work, shop, and take their children to school. It also marks a break in the land itself, where the eastern highland gives way to the valleys and ridges where numerous rivers and creeks cut paths over limestone bluffs in beautiful waterfalls.

Six Mile Hill

Once more comin' over Six Mile Hill,
somewhere between where we came from and where we're going.
Down by the creek like the one we used to kill
time all summer long, us boys, skippin' rocks and laughin', 

Grabbin' at crawdads slippin' through our fingers
swimming in the sun by the light that lingers
on dreams that boys never tell -
faces shining like Moses on the mountain of God.

Once more comin' over Six Mile Hill,
somewhere between where we came from and where we're goin'.
Down by the church – parking lot filled,
cars and trucks and a Harley or two just pulled in.

In the name of the Father and the Son and Holy Spirit,
baby baptized, carried down from the pulpit,
with smiles everywhere that you go -
faces shining like Moses on the mountain of God.

Ordinary people, everyday people,
hearts to heal and not to trample,
the veil that stood between the glory and the shame -
Jesus threw it all away- gave that child a name,
face shining like Moses on the mountain of God.

Once more comin' over Six Mile Hill,
somewhere between where we came from and where we're goin'.
Farmer on a tractor, cuttin' his hay,
sweet on the air, laid out straight for bailin'.

Harvest times come and harvest times go,
layin' in a living by the best that we know,
eye's lookin out to the sky:
faces shining like Moses on the mountain of God.

Young girl walking to town on the tracks,
hungry for hope, as she pulls back
from eyes she never can meet,
face that could shine like Moses on the mountain of God.

Ordinary people, everyday people,
hearts to heal and not to trample,
the veil that stood between the glory and the shame -
Jesus threw it all away and gave this day a name – called it Pentecost - 
for a face shining like Moses on the mountain of God.

© 2010 Andy Gay