Haven for the homeless, revelation for the rich man,
Downtowns famous church has metamorphosed
In the foment of the century,
From wealthy white Republican
To black and activist supporting
Huey Newton and the Panther separatists.
Now the temple of the Tenderloin is twixt and tween,
A happy hostel sparking interracial celebrations
Twice each Sunday, packed to rafters,
Come to hear the gospel choir, jazz,
Then loving words of counsel
From the incandescent heart of Reverend Cecil.
Long in music, short on prayer,
The service speaks to every soul,
From saint to sinner,
Black to white,
Blind beggar to suburbanite,
And devotee to alien spirit.
The well-worn, scuffed-up welcome mat is always out.
New arrivals fall right in, attracted by the charismatics.
All light up in fervor of this joy-and-love community---
Clapping, swaying, linking arms,
Exulting as theyve never done in years.
The jovial reverends sermon hugs us, brings us
Themes of love thats unconditional
Which soon hes acting out embracing his parishioners
Who gather in the meeting hall for postlude dialogues.
Bereft you be perhaps of friend or family,
You sense youre welcome any time
At Cecils edifying edifice of unity and love
That every week will save an honored place or two
At table for the prodigal, or absentee, or thee.
---6/27/03, Glide Memorial Church, SF |