At the beginning of the summer,
knowing that I was going to be speakng New Community's commissioning service at
the end of August, I ask one of the young lady's (Danielle Estelle – who is a
slam poet) from our church to write a poem about being sent out.  I asked
her to use Isaiah 6 as a starting point and create from there.  Here is
the wonderful upshot of her creative process.  After reading Isaiah 6
(also cited here), she recited the poem with such beauty and passion that
morning.  I asked her if I could post it here for you all.  

 

I saw the Lord seated on a
throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above
him were seraphs, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces,
with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were
calling to one another:       

"Holy, holy, holy is the
LORD Almighty;       

the whole earth is full of his
glory."

At the sound of their voices the
doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke.

 "Woe to me!" I
cried. "I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a
people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD
Almighty."

 Then one of the seraphs
flew to me with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the
altar. With it he touched my mouth and said, "See, this has touched your
lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for."

Then I heard the voice of the
Lord saying,

"Whom shall I send? And who
will go for us?"       

And I said, "Here am I. Send
me!"

-Isaiah 6:1-8

 

Today, salvation is the color of
a coal mine resting in the palm of an angel

blessing our lips like a match

like a smoking chimney

like a forest fire flooding
through our bloodstreams.

 

We have declared our delights

in mission, in commitment,

these are paths we’ve traveled
down much too far

to even consider looking behind

 

because, Jesus, you’ve branded
into our chests

hearts like dawn,

hearts like lighthouses,

hearts like a tide rising steady.

 

You said, behold,

heaven has kissed your lips,

coal has kissed your lips;

coal is what diamonds are made
of:

how, then, could we not sparkle
like redemption?

How, then, could we not believe
as hard as freedom?

 

We are made Isaiah’s brothers,

Isaiah’s sisters,

this new heritage compelling us

to fall on our knees

to beg,

 

Send me!

Here am I!

Here are we!

Send all of us!

 

We will not simply

build you castles

we will not simply

lay cement for you,

because “settle down” is
precisely

what this gospel is not!

 

We are too small

and it is too big

for its forest fire to be
contained

within our hearts

 

though we are not flawless
jewels,

though our candles will often
flicker,

you are plenty shelter for us to
outlive the rain

 

so make us like seraphim

let us carry ten thousand coals

to kiss this world’s sins
goodnight

to declare that we will go

we will be sent

we will burn

 

into whatever land,

whatever neighborhood,

whatever place,

 

you would bless us to.