Liberated Imaginations is a liturgy prepared for the Refresh Conference held at Wycliffe College in Toronto, Ontario. It was first used on May 14, 2008 and written by Brian Walsh.
As with all our resources, if you choose to use this elsewhere, please credit the original author, and provide a link to its source.
Throughout the liturgy, the words of the leader / celebrant are in plain text, and the words for the congregation are in bold. All songs are meant to be sung together.
Members of the accompanying Wine Before Breakfast Band include: Dave Krause, Joe Abbey-Colborne, Lydell Wiebe and Joanne Redhead
Prelude: Oh Mary Don’t You Weep
Well if I could I surely would
Stand on the rock where Moses stood
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep
Chorus:
O Mary, don’t you weep, don’t you mourn
O Mary, don’t you weep, don’t you mourn
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary, don’t you weep
Well Mary wore three links of chain
Every link was Jesus’ name
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep
Chorus
Well one of these nights about 12 o’clock
this old world is gonna reel and rock
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep
Well Moses stood on the Red Sea shore
Smote the water with a two by four
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep
Chorus
Well, old Mr. Satan he got mad
Missed that soul that he thought he had
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary, don’t you weep
Brothers and sisters don’t you cry
they’ll be good times by and by
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep
Chorus
God gave Noah the rainbow sign
“No more water, but fire next time”
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep
The Lord told Moses what to do
To lead those Hebrew children through
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep
Liberating Imagination
O Mary don’t you weep don’t you mourn
O Mary don’t you weep don’t you mourn
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep
Who sings this song?
Whose song is this?
This is a song of African-American slaves
And to whom do they sing this song?
They sing it to each other,
and they sing it to Mary.
They sing it to each other in the midst of their own weeping,
in the face of their own oppression
in the face of their own loss,
their own sorrow,
their own tears.
And they sing it to a Jewish woman
who existed some 1900 years earlier
they sing it to Mary of Bethany
Mary weeping at the tomb of her brother Lazarus
And they sing, O Mary don’t you weep.
Why not weep?
Why not weep when your brother has been taken?
Why not weep at his tomb?
Because Pharaoh’s army got drownded, that’s why.
Why not weep when your mother has been taken to the
master’s shed to be raped?
Why not weep when your brother has been taken behind the shed
to be beaten?
Why not weep when you are treated as less than human,
slaves bound to a master?
Because Pharaoh’s army got drownded, that’s why.
So slaves in America sing this song to Mary of old,
and they sing it to each other,
and what do they tell this Mary?
what do they tell each other?
Pharaoh’s army got drownded.
So the African-American slaves tell a woman who lived 1900 years before them
a story about something that happened thousands of years before her.
Pharaoh’s army got drownded.
Yes, you face the empire of death all around.
Yes, this is a world of oppressive violence.
Yes, your tears are your food day and night.
Yes, we are in captivity today …
But “one of these nights about 12 o’clock
this old world is gonna reel and rock
Pharaoh’s army got drownded
O Mary don’t you weep”
Mary, Pharaoh’s army was no match for the liberating power of God.
Mary, the empire of this world is no match for the Kingdom of God.
Mary, the systems of oppression cannot stand before the Jubilee power of Jesus Christ.
Mary, today is a day of death, but resurrection is at hand.
Pharaoh’s army got drownded,
and Pharaoh’s army will get drownded again
O Mary don’t you weep.
Or perhaps we could put all of this in Paul’s terms:
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly;
teach and admonish one another in all wisdom;
and with gratitude in your hearts
sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs to God.
Mary, the empire of death wants its word to be final at your brother’s tomb.
Mary, Pharaoh’s empire wants you to think that oppression is your rightful home.
Mary, the principalities and powers want to capture your imagination.
But these are all lies
the empire’s word is not final
oppression is never a rightful home
and captive imaginations can never be free.
So let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly.
Let the liberating Word of Christ be at-home in your hearts.
Let the empire-defeating Word of Christ take up residence in your lives.
Let the Word of Christ set your imaginations free.
Captive or liberated imaginations
that’s the issue.
“The key pathology of our time, which seduces us all, is the reduction of the imagination so that we are too numbed, satiated and co-opted to do serious imaginative work.”
Walter Brueggemann said that.
Seduction
reduction
numbness
satiation
co-opted
– the pathology of a captive imagination
No wonder Paul commends the Word of Christ over the lying word of the empire
no wonder he says “live in this Word”
not the false words of the spin doctors,
the deceitful words of the politicos
the seductive words of the advertizers
live in this word,
dwell in this word,
teach and admonish in this word.
But somehow words versus words doesn’t quite get us there.
And so it is no wonder that he also says
sing with gratitude in your hearts
sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs.
In the face of a culture of ingratitude,
in the face of an insolent culture of entitlement
in the face of a self-absorbed, self-sufficient culture of incessant acquisition of “more’
and in the face of the cheap sentimentality of this culture’s entertainment industry
… sing in gratitude
sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs
Sing because what is at stake is numbed, satiated and co-opted imaginations.
Sing because in song the Word of Christ dwells more deeply.
Sing because in song our imaginations have a better shot at liberation.
But which songs?
Which hymns?
Which psalms?
How do we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?
What does covenantal dwelling look like in the homelessness of captivity?
Captivity is a dangerous time.
Exile is a dangerous time.
Darkness is a dangerous place to be.
What songs do we sing in a dangerous time?
which hymns?
which psalms?
I mean, if we want to be children of covenant in dangerous times
then doesn’t it just feel like you’ve got to
“kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight”?
“Lovers in a Dangerous Time”
[from Bruce Cockburn’s album, Stealing Fire]
Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon:
Build houses and live in them;
plant gardens and eat what they produce.
Take wives and have sons and daughters;
take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage,
that they may bear sons and daughters;
multiply there, and do not decrease.
But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile,
and pray to the Lord on its behalf,
for in its welfare you will find your welfare.
For thus says the Lord of hosts:
Only when Babylon’s seventy years are completed will I visit you,
and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place.
For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord,
plans for your welfare and not for your harm,
to give you a future with hope.
One day you’re waiting for the sky to fall
the next your dazzled by the beauty of it all
Apocalyptic dread and creational delight
anxiety and joy
it’s all crashing down or you are overwhelmed
by the sheer beauty of it all
That’s the way it is for lovers in a dangerous time
that’s the way it is when you make love in empire
that’s the way it is when you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs
against the odds
When you’re lovers in a dangerous time
sometimes you’re made to feel as if your love’s a crime
it is criminal to close down your options
in a world of infinite choice
it is criminal to say enough
in a world of insatiability
it is criminal to tie the knot
in a world with no strings attached
it is criminal to offer yourself in an act of momentous giving
in a world where everything has its price
sometimes you’re made to feel as if your love’s a crime
When you’re lovers in a dangerous time
sometimes you’re made to feel as if your love’s a crime
nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight
got to kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight
kicking at the darkness
singing in the dark
singing that Pharaoh’s army got drownded
when Pharaoh is still on the throne
singing songs of justice in the face of oppression
singing songs to liberate imaginations in the face of our captivity
how?
how do we kick at the darkness?
how do we live in the midst of empire?
how do we live in Babylon?
how do we live in exile?
Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel to all the exiles …
build houses and live in them
plant gardens and eat what they produce
take each other as husband and wife
have children
multiply in all of your ways and do not decrease
Build houses in a culture of homelessness?
Plant gardens in polluted soil?
Get married?
Have children … in this world?
Multiply … in a world of debt?
That’s it?
But we want to kick at the darkness!
Building houses
building a life together of hospitality
singing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs
doing that hard imaginative work in the face of a co-opted
Seduction
reduction
numbness
satiation
multiplying virtue, justice, kindness, compassion, forgiveness
… all of this is kicking at the darkness till it bleeds daylight.
Kick at the darkness
seek the welfare of the city
kick at the darkness
seek shalom
kick at the darkness
spirits open to the thrust of grace
kick at the darkness
not out of bravado
not out of triumphalism
not out of bitterness
kick at the darkness
rooted in grace
kick at the darkness
living in the light
Kick at the darkness
with eyes wide open
kick at the darkness
because the exile will be long
kick at the darkness
because the darkness will not have the final word
kick at the darkness
because the darkness is ubiquitous,
but it is not sovereign
kick at the darkness
because Pharaoh’s army got drownded.
I have plans for you,
says the homemaking God
I have plans for your shalom
I have plans for your homecoming
Call … and I will hear
Seek … and I will be found
Come … and I will gather you
Come … and I will come to you
These fragile bodies of touch and taste
this vibrant skin … this hair like lace
spirits open to the thrust of grace
never a breath you can afford to waste
when you’re lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time
need to live somewhere
lovers in a dangerous time
need to bear fruit in the wilderness
Abide in me as I abide in you
abide in me and bear much fruit
Abide in me
my words will abide in you
my word will dwell with you
as you dwell with each other
a word-shaped dwelling
a Christ-shaped dwelling
Abiding in Jesus
living in empire
Abiding in Jesus
lovers in a dangerous time
Abiding in Jesus
open to the thrust of grace
Abiding in Jesus
bearing rich fruit
Abiding in Jesus
abiding in joy
Seek the welfare of the city
seek shalom
Seek the welfare of the city
love one another
Sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs
that liberate the imagination,
that kick at the darkness until it bleeds daylight
because we’re lovers – all of us
we’re lovers
lovers of God
lovers of his Kingdom
lovers of Jesus
lovers in the Spirit
lovers of this creation
lovers of this broken world
lovers in the midst of a world of hate
we’re lovers in a dangerous time.
[Dave]
But Brian, I’ve been kicking and the light isn’t bleeding through.
I’ve sought but I haven’t found.
I spend more time waiting for the sky to fall,
then being dazzled by the beauty of it all.
You see, faith lost its promise and bruised me deep blue.
I’m not sure that I’ve got the energy for any more
kicking at the darkness.
[Brian]
I’m sorry Dave. Maybe all of this was too much.
Maybe I’ve been presumptuous.
Maybe we need a different song.
Can you guys play us something else?
[Brian] Sure. This is Martyn Joseph’s song, “Turn me Tender.”
Turn me Tender
(Martyn Joseph and Stewart Henderson from the album, Deep Blue ©2006 Pipe Records)
It’s happened again the colourless sky
Has dimmed me again and I’ve run out of why
Hank Williams is grieving I’m scanning the Psalms
When Jesus was here they stilletoed his palms
And the pledge and the vow is ‘you find if you seek’
But what if you try and find nothing but bleak
Turn me tender again
Fold me into you
Turn me tender again
And mould me to new
Faith lost its promise
And bruised me deep blue
Turn me tender again
Through union with you
Let me lay with you now like the very first time
I’ve had rooms full of dollars but I’m down to a dime
Though there’s wonder and awe in the mane of a lion
But there’s nowhere to go and I’m chapters from Zion
Yet you’re still my cryptic and cherishing prayer
With serenity kisses that soothe and repair
Turn me tender again …
And laments have a purpose and laments have a cost
A requiem playing gathers the lost
It sometimes tastes sour the sweetness of hope
When the blizzards are raging on this lovers slope
Yet I don’t want to freeze inside or out
For it’s you that dissolves these cold walls of doubt
Turn me tender again …
[Brian]
Listening to Hank Williams and scanning the psalms.
Not a bad strategy when faced with a colourless sky.
Not bad advice you are in the dark, when you have been dimmed
and you’ve run out of ‘why.’
You see, “the pledge and the vow is ‘you find if you seek’
but what if you try and find nothing but bleak”?
Which psalms do you sing then?
Maybe you sing psalms of lament.
Maybe you go to Psalm 42 and 43:
[Joanne]
As a deer longs for flowing streams,
so my soul longs for you, O God.
[Lydell]
My soul thirsts for you, O God,
for the living God.
[Joe]
When shall I come and behold the face of God?
[Joanne]
My tears have been my food day and night.
[All Voices] My tears have been my food day and night.
[Joanne] While people say to me continually,
“Where is your God?”
[Brian]
The psalmist has been dimmed,
he has run out of answers,
and seems to find nothing but bleak.
And in that darkness he calls out,
‘as a deer longs for flowing streams’
‘my soul thirsts for you, O God’
‘I’m dieing here, dieing for the want of a good drink
In fact, all I’ve had to drink has been my own tears.’
And so, remembering the good old days,
remembering when he could come to the throne of God with praise,
remembering when God was close and real,
remembering when he could sing with joy,
the psalmist asks himself.
[Joe]
Why are you cast down my soul,
and why are you disquieted within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my help and my God.
[Brian]
Have you ever spoken to yourself like that?
Why am I so downcast?
Why is there this disquiet deep in my soul?
Why is it that I can’t pray?
Why is it that songs that I have loved in the past just leave me cold.
Why can’t I add my voice to the rest of the community when we sing?
What do you do with this kind of spiritual despair?
Listen closely to this psalmist:
“Put your hope in God” he sings.
In this refrain that holds these two psalms together,
the psalmist turns to hope.
Not to spiritual repression and cover-up,
not to a denial of the disquiet,
not to a quick and cheap resolution.
No, he turns to hope,
he lives with the crisis,
he lives with the dark,
and he lives in hope that
“he will again praise him, my help and my God.”
I will yet praise him.
I will praise him again someday,
but not today.
This is not a denial of praise,
but it is a praise delayed.
Today is not a day for praise he says,
today is a day for lament.
But lament is not silence.
This psalmist has lots to say to his God,
but he abandons any pretense for a polite piety
and cries in the face of God,
Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I walk about mournfully?
Vindicate me!
Defend my cause!
Deliver me!
You are the God in whom I take refuge
why have you cast me off?
Send out your light and your truth!
because I’m in the dark and truth has perished
Kick at the darkness?
Hell no, I’ve got to kick at the light!
Kick at the darkness?
What if God caused the darkness!
Kick at the darkness?
I’ve got to kick at God.
Kick at the darkness?
I’m sorry but the darkness has kicked at me
faith lost its promise
and bruised me deep blue
Kick at the darkness?
Maybe whimper in the darkness is more like it.
There’s nothing but bleak.
There’s nowhere to go and I’m chapters from Zion.
You see, my friends,
laments have a purpose
and laments have a cost
abrasive honesty is costly
expressed grief,
broken promises,
disappointment,
betrayal,
impolite piety …
all of this costs us dearly
laments have a purpose,
and laments have a cost
a requiem playing will gather the lost
laments gather the broken hearted who will not settle for cheap joy
laments gather those who have been broken by the empire of death
laments gather together all the pain, all the betrayals,
and they refuse to be co-opted or seduced,
and they break through an over-satiated numbness
with a pathos that confesses,
it sometimes tastes sour, the sweetness of hope
when the blizzards are raging on this lovers slope
and such pathos says to the darkness
we beg to differ
you will not have the last word
you will not take us captive
such pathos, such lament
is an act of faithful imagination
and a church that does not lament
is a church lost in a pious numbness
Lament is not self-indulgent complaining,
there is no cheap wallowing in this pain.
Laments face the darkness
while refusing the captivity of an imagination that says,
‘this is the way things have to be’
Lament is not an abandonment of faith,
but one of faith’s deepest expressions,
because in lament we are really singing,
Turn me tender again
Fold me into you
Turn me tender again
And mould me to new
Faith lost its promise
And bruised me deep blue
Turn me tender again
Through union with you
[Dave]
There’s nothing cheap about that, is there?
[Brian]
No, laments have a purpose and laments have a cost.
This is a costly prayer, and it can often only be sung through our tears.
We are bruised deep blue,
we are already tender from our wounds,
and yet we pray to be made tender
so that we won’t respond to our pain with a self-protective hardness.
Laments are very costly.
[Dave]
But so is praise.
I think that the most vacuous worship is cheap praise.
Praise that has not been bought through suffering,
praise that has not walked the path of the cross,
praise that sings “alleluia” way too quickly.
[Brian]
Is that why you didn’t give us one congregational song at that acclaimed “alleluia” at Wine Before Breakfast on the first Tuesday after Easter?
[Dave]
That’s right. You had “alleluias” all over the liturgy,
but I didn’t want us to leave Holy Week behind too quickly.
If you recall, the songs all focussed on what Christ has done for us.
[Joanne] I remember that! [Singing accapella]
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
[Joe] Yes, and then at communion we sang [accapella]
How deep the Father’s love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
[then everyone joins in]
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory
[Brian]
But you did allow us to sing “alleluia”
Right at the end of the service,
but it was almost as if you were reaching back into Holy Week
and pulling it forward into Easter.
No cheap praise here.
No cheap victories.
No resurrection without abiding wounds in hands and feet.
No Easter Sunday joy without the horrors of Good Friday.
[Dave]
Yea, do you remember when Tony Campolo
was preaching that sermon all over the place,
“It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming”?
Well we were saying, “It’s Sunday, but Friday is still with us.”
[Brian]
And how could it be different.
The dragons are still flying
sometimes they are Stealth Bombers,
sometimes they are debilitating anxiety.
We still find ourselves with an unquenchable thirst
an unsatisfied hunger.
[Lydell]
Our path is worn our feet are poorly shod
We lift up our prayer against the odds
And fear the silence is the voice of God
[Joanne]
Sorrow is still constant
and the joys are brief
the seasons come
and bring no relief
[Joe]
And sometimes it still feels like
there’ll be no guiding light for you and me
[Dave]
But that doesn’t mean we are totally lost.
You see,
we are not sailors lost out on the sea
we were always heading toward eternity
hoping for a glimpse of Galilee
[Brian]
But will we get that glimpse?
Will we go to Galilee and see the resurrected one?
Will that darkness of Friday,
that darkness of a tomb sealed by the empire,
will that darkness bleed daylight?
Will we come out of this with a liberated imagination?
Will we have the eyes to see Pharoah’s army drownded again?
Will we be sustained in the midst of our exile?
Will we find creative ways to be lovers in a dangerous time?
Will we meet the one who can dissolve these cold walls of doubt?
Will we be dazzled again, by the beauty of it all?
Will we be able to sing our praise again someday?
Will we sing “alleluia”?
[Dave]
Yes, my brother.
Yes, we do meet the resurrected one.
But maybe with all of this pain, all of this grief, all of this lament,
maybe with the deep longing for the kingdom
and the reality of Good Friday burned into our imaginations,
we won’t ‘sing’ alleluia.
Maybe we’ll have to ‘cry’ alleluia.
Resurrection hope through our tears.
Maybe that is the way to a liberated imagination in the midst of our captivity.
Crying “Alleluia” … through our tears.
This is Emmylou Harris’s song, “The Pearl”
The Pearl
[from Emmylou Harris’ album, Red Dirt Girl ©2000 Nonesuch Records]
O the dragons are gonna fly tonight
They’re circling low and inside tonight
It’s another round in the losing fight
Out along the great divide tonight
We are aging soldiers in an ancient war
Seeking out some half remembered shore
We drink our fill and still we thirst for more
Asking if there’s no heaven what is this hunger for?
Our path is worn our feet are poorly shod
We lift up our prayer against the odds
And fear the silence is the voice of God
And we cry Allelujah Allelujah
We cry Allelujah
Sorrow is constant and the joys are brief
The seasons come and bring no sweet relief
Time is a brutal but a careless thief
Who takes our lot but leaves behind the grief
It is the heart that kills us in the end
Just one more old broken bone that cannot mend
As it was now and ever shall be amen
And we cry Allelujah Allelujah
We cry Allelujah
So there’ll be no guiding light for you and me
We are not sailors lost out on the sea
We were always headed toward eternity
Hoping for a glimpse of Gaililee
Like falling stars from the universe we are hurled
Down through the long loneliness of the world
Until we behold the pain become the pearl
Cryin´ Allelujah Allelujah
We cry Allelujah
And we cry Allelujah Allelujah
We cry Allelujah