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Picture description: a snowy scene of evergreen trees with the peak of a church poking through.

Poem:

Pulpit Dreams 

By Jon Rundquist

 

As frigid winds across the prairies blow

And birds have left the northern Midwest climes

The church upon the hill collects the snow

Around the door and lot just like old times

 

And I with wife in hand and child in arm

Head out into the drift with dragging skirts

The snow lets up before the bell’s alarm

We leave with hope, and yet, my heart still hurts

 

With yearning pulpit dreams akin to grief

It’s been so long since I have been up there

The peace I had was stolen by a thief

A thief with Bible-twisted fear and glare

 

Of course, the conscience-bound are always right

They steal the dreams of queer and trans alike

The joy of Advent mired by hate and spite

Uncomfortability is giv’n a mic

 

“I’m sorry” so they say. “Not ready yet”

“Just give us time, okay?” How long to wait?

Awaiting Baby Jesus, Advent wreaths are set

For love to break the walls of fear and hate

 

As frigid winds across the prairies blow

We pray for opened minds from Advent’s themes

Embrace us all to fill your hearts and sow

The seeds of all our hopes and pulpit dreams

Jon Rundquist (he/her/theirs) is a non-binary trans/genderqueer rebellious preacher of the rural Northwoods, where they are a stay-at-home parent and an occasional electronics team member at Target. Jon has many loves, including his wife and two children, and an affinity for sci-fi/fantasy Star Trek/Wars/Gate. Yes, that’s six slashes. She hopes to one day serve in ordained ministry for the God and Church she loves. Rebellions are built on hope after all.