Crossing Boulevard

with Rev. Rachel


Was it a drum or a tambourine? If you’re asking me, Miriam could play both and it didn’t much matter which of the two happened to be nearest, that day. She was dancing. Singing too. God had just pulled off the unimaginable.

I love this woman. I love all that she meant and could mean for Christ’s Church in our time. She waits her turn. [Moses going first is a non-issue.] She is the cheerleader. [The kind that everyone takes seriously.] She sings to God by singing to those around her. [God dwells among and within—she gets that.]

We haven’t a clue how well she performed. Those inspired by God to record our sacred texts may have thought it went without saying: This prophet is no diva. All that she is, and all that she has, it bangs the drum for others…so that they might feel the life source and force a’ rising.

She lived in the man who used to write me letters about Sunday’s sermon. Suppose he knew that someone had to do the encouraging and figured he was as well suited as any, given his propensity for trips to the post office and all.

Miriam lives across the street from me in someone who never forgets to say: You’ll do great. She is written on the faces of those who, mid-sermon, unwittingly convey: I’m with you. Preach. She sometimes shows up in the main office, here, and gets to celebrating the stuff over which I’d cry, if I did not laugh.

And wouldn’t you know it, she abides with a 7-Eleven clerk on Patterson Avenue. This morning, he saw the sweat and tossed a stack of brown paper bags in the air with a big ole’ grin. Having made it through an hour-long spin class was something to name and claim, he insisted.

Tell me, have you seen her? Where have you heard her?

She plays that you and I make awaken to the drum that has been ours to beat on all along. She plays that we might realize it is never too late to start, for there is no sweeter gift than to sound for our neighbor what they might hear to be the heartbeat of God. Play y’all. Indiscriminately! The kingdom has a pep band and all of us a place, therein.

UncategorizedRachel May