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This
is just a selection of the words and images that go together to make
the worshipalternative
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songlines
This
worshipalternative was based round the Aboriginal songlines where
dreamtime creatures woke and formed the land in their journeis across
it. It was all about the idea of creation and hope and responsibility.
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Prayer
Some
'aboriginal music would be appropriate behind this.
God of the dreamtime
That ancient time
before stars were born
And atoms tore
open mysteries
Before light chose colour
And sound cleared
her throat
You dreamed a
universe into existence
Imagining is texture
Devising its beauty
Conceiving it's destiny
And with that dreaming
The story began
Of people who have
searched for meaning
Adventured into life
And sought out the mystery
That quickens our souls
A story that has
named galaxies
Brought birth to
countless children
Touched beauty and
tragedy in one breath
Fought and died
for truth and lies
Spoken of hope and
let it linger after the voice had died
Then grasped it
and made it our future
A story that has
entwined it's life round us
And all that we are
Everything we find
significant and symbolic
Is spawned from
that story
THE story
Of the dream
Of a God
Where meaning is
concealed within everything
Each voice and
every look
Each face and
every rock
Each relationship
and every touch
Every living thing
Carrying the
meaning and vitality of life
Within
The mystery
The meaning
The truth
Ingrained
God of the dreamtime
Dream the dream of love
Again
So be it
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Telling the Stories
Telling the
stories of meaning bring life into our world&ldots; These are stories
of the ancients&ldots; and place us within the context and purpose of
God&ldots; something we forget too often in this world&ldots; It is
God's context we live&ldots; and these song-lines remind us&ldots;
connect us&ldots; en-fire us again&ldots; stories of people like Abraham&ldots;
A man who was
caught one day stargazing and found himself whispering children's
names&ldots; An old man&ldots; too old to be thinking of
children&ldots; But he couldn't help it&ldots;Every evening as he sat
outside his tent&ldots; he would find another name on his lips&ldots;
He raised his eyes to the heavens and with a wee holy chuckle&ldots;
named a star with it&ldots; He would never do the whole sky he
thought&ldots; there aren't enough names written&ldots; but somehow
the names kept coming&ldots; and the sky got pretty crowded&ldots;
But that wasn't
all&ldots;Each day when he walked&ldots; the sand spilled through his
sandals&ldots; and the sound of it was like a whispered promise&ldots;
of the future&ldots; that generations would hear&ldots; and
recognise&ldots; The first of our ancients&ldots; journeying through
a desert carpeted with those whispers&ldots; that he thought sounded
like children muttering their names&ldots; He was the first to hear
it&ldots; and make it his own&ldots;
Love has
woven us a story
Shades of
hope unfold in glory
Promise
cradled by the holy
Calling us,
whisp'ring our names
And then there was
Sarah&ldots; who found God's ideas a little on the funny side&ldots;
So funny in fact&ldots; she couldn't hold the guffaw in&ldots; and it
burst out&ldots; and echoed round the empty desert&ldots; and when
she listened to the echo&ldots; bouncing off the dry hills&ldots; it
wasn't quite her laugh&ldots; There was a child's giggle in there too&ldots;
It was only nine
months later that she recognised whose it was&ldots; and the gurgling
of her newly born son Isaac&ldots; reminded her of that day&ldots; In
fact she laughed again and again as she thought about that day&ldots;
This time it was with wonder and not disbelief&ldots; it was a warm
and holy laugh&ldots; as you can still hear it today&ldots; if you
listen carefully&ldots; every time a child is born&ldots;
Love has
woven us a story
Shades of
hope unfold in glory
Promise
cradled by the holy
Calling us,
whisp'ring our names
The story doesn't
stop there&ldots; because the man Moses carried on the promise&ldots;
not really wanting to&ldots; and making every excuse he could think
of not to&ldots; One day&ldots; when he told people what happened to
him that afternoon with the bush&ldots; and the leaves that didn't
curl up and burn&ldots; they all said next he'd be hearing voices&ldots;
The thing
was&ldots; he did&ldots; One voice&ldots; straight out of the
bush&ldots; and it thudded round his head&ldots; He was standing
there&ldots; shoeless and witless&ldots; arguing with this
instruction telling him to go back into Egypt&ldots; It was the first
of many arguments&ldots; that eventually led people from slavery to
freedom&ldots; With Moses&ldots; it was never going to be plain
sailing&ldots; But then&ldots; when they did encounter water&ldots;
they didn't need boats&ldots; but that's another story&ldots;
Love has
woven us a story
Shades of
hope unfold in glory
Promise
cradled by the holy
Calling us,
whisp'ring our names
Then came
David&ldots; Giant slayer&ldots; Power grabber&ldots; womaniser&ldots;
song smith&ldots; What a character he turns out to be&ldots; Not
exactly God's golden boy&ldots; If there was a wrong choice to
make&ldots; morally&ldots; David always managed to make it&ldots; His
life is peppered with betrayal&ldots; murder&ldots; arrogance&ldots;
You would normally have thought his life ought to appear in a good
film rather than the Good Book&ldots; He never quite sorted out his
moral dilemmas&ldots; well he did&ldots; with a knife across the
throat&ldots; holy murder&ldots; But thankfully&ldots; it is this
person God chose as pivot of his dynasty&ldots; It shows there's hope
for us all yet&ldots;
Love has
woven us a story
Shades of
hope unfold in glory
Promise
cradled by the holy
Calling us,
whisp'ring our names
And the songline
continues to a locust eater and honey drinker&ldots; a wild man of
the desert&ldots; who brought people to the edge of heaven by the
edge of the Jordan&ldots; There was something in the water&ldots; the
way it spoke about heaven&ldots; as he invested it with new
colours&ldots; and new imaginings&ldots; about repentance and life
and the future&ldots;
One day&ldots;
people swore they saw the foam and splashes and gurgling and
effervescence&ldots; collide into a wild and holy dove when the
Baptist pushed his cousin under the surface and pulled him back out
with a great heave&ldots; Some even say&ldots; woven through the fizz
and spray&ldots; they heard a voice&ldots; calling his son&ldots; out
of the water&ldots; and into new life and a new existence&ldots; It
wasn't the only time it did that&ldots;
Love has
woven us a story
Shades of
hope unfold in glory
Promise
cradled by the holy
Calling us,
whisp'ring our names
And the
songline&ldots; continues today&ldots; in the people who make these
story their own&ldots; these people their ancestors and friends&ldots;
and let them interpret their living and hopes and future&ldots; It
is a story of life&ldots; re-enacting the promise for the world&ldots;
It is a sacred act and a holy moment when we do so&ldots; for we
place ourselves in the context of God and the path of life&ldots;
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Action
A black
cloth was sitting in the middle on a tabvle with coloured paint.
People were asked to use their fingerprints to form an Aboriginal
type image of Christian symbols.
Whenever you look
at Australian Aboriginal art&ldots; especially pictures of The
Dreaming&ldots; each is made up of waves of dots&ldots; and the more
you look at them&ldots; the more the shimmer&ldots; a maze
patters&ldots; 'lyrical lines' they have been called&ldots; and this
dappled effect is all meant to deliberately disorientate or dazzle
the senses&ldots; and provoke a sense of the power and mystery
inherent in The Dreaming&ldots; and resonate ancestral power of
Aboriginal Australia's sacred places&ldots;
I invite you
now&ldots; as a community&ldots; to make our own piece of
artwork&ldots; revolving around the power and mystery of our ancient
stories&ldots; that have brought meaning to us&ldots; Place a number
of fingerprints wherever you wish on the picture&ldots; and take as
much time as you need&ldots; come up twice if you feel moved&ldots;
three times even&ldots;
We are reinvesting
the stories and ourselves&ldots; with the faith-energy&ldots;
renewing the mysteries&ldots; and allowing them life and mystery by
doing so&ldots;
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