We shall be known by the company we keep

By the ones who circle round to tend these fires

We shall be known by the ones who sow and reap

The seeds of change, alive from deep within the earth…

In this great turning we shall learn to lead in love.

Written by MaMuse

A recording can be found here, sung by The Thrive Choir. 

Regular Church Anew blogger and theologian Walter Brueggemann sparked something in me recently when he reminded me of the importance of a prophetic imagination. The work of prophetic imagination, he writes, is two-fold. The first part is to critique the world in its present distortion so that we do not think it normative. The other is to hint at alternative ways of shaping the world according to the purposes of the Creator.

The word prophet has come to mean a lot of things over the centuries. In recent years the word has smoldered with its more radical and revolutionary meanings. In a time of reckoning with the deep injustices of our nation and our local communities, I have heard the call to burn down empire and wondered how I could be a part of that tearing down. Yet, I can’t help wondering if we burn it all down, what is to be built in its place? Like so many, I have longed for a fresh vision, something born of the prophetic imagination, an alternative to the economies of oppression and empires of greed that so shape our world. Simon and Garfunkel famously sang that “the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and tenement halls” and I can’t help hearing in those words an echo of the prophetic imagination, the promise that God’s kingdom appears through the cracks and brokenness of our humanity. Perhaps we miss what is always evident to the prophetic imagination because our eyes always gravitate to the glittering center of empire instead of looking outward to its edges. In the brokenness caused by empire, God is always doing a new thing, and I yearn to see it now more than ever.

Yearning for healing, beauty, and new life always seems to intensify in this season as the days shorten. I arrive here in Advent with all this longing for a fresh vision, a world shaped by prophetic imagination, and discover that Advent is a time of prophecy embodied. We await expectantly in faith and hope for not just a new way of seeing the world, but a new world in the flesh. 

All of this was in my mind when at church recently we sang the song which I quoted at the opening of the article. Something in the words intersected with my yearning for a new vision of the world renewed according to the purposes of God, and these words kindled my imagination for what is possible. I’ve found myself humming snatches of the tune and singing the words silently and out loud to myself all week long.

“We shall be known by the company we keep.”

Since 2020 there has been a sustained experience of loss and disconnection. We have isolated and masked and avoided gatherings and close physical contact all to keep each other safe. As a result, our viral pandemic has been followed by an epidemic of loneliness and isolation and a resulting crisis of belonging. While the past year has shown us that we can once again be together, we have also discovered barriers to connection that go much deeper to the core of who we are. We are learning just how much we’ve been formed for disconnection and just how difficult it is to find a true sense of belonging. We yearn for a vision of how we can be together and belong to one another. We want to be known, and somewhere, somehow, we want to be known by the connections we forge, and the company we keep.

“By the ones who circle round to tend these fires.” 

Fires can tear down and destroy. And fires can bring life. It is a scientific truth that certain ecosystems need fire to renew life. Indigenous peoples have long known this wisdom, which is why out here in the Midwest where I live, long ago first peoples would set fire to the prairie to renew the land, bringing new plants to feed the herds that in turn brought vitality to the community.

Our yearning for belonging is deeply connected to that of life. A prophetic imagination is kindled precisely in those places where God is bringing forth growth and new life in the wake of destruction and loss. Prophetic imagination invites us to tend the fires of new life within community. The kindling of these fires is created not by tearing down each other for the sake of righteousness. Rather, tending the fires invite holy wisdom and a vision of life springing forth at the crumbling and charred edges of empire.

“We shall be known by the ones who sow and reap.  The seeds of change, alive from deep within the earth”

While here in Minnesota the bleak midwinter is still a month or two away, the season of Advent which we are about to enter brings with its motifs of waiting and expectation. The seeds lie dormant in the ground waiting for the season of new life and renewal that is coming. A prophetic imagination is needed to see past this moment to what will come. And this is why there is something hopeful and life affirming by the act of sowing seeds. As the Psalmist writes, “Those who go out weeping, carrying seeds to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying their sheaves.” 

We can understand the grief that might accompany the farmer carrying her precious few seeds to the field for planting, seeds which could have fed her family.

 Likewise, one does not need much to imagine the joy that might accompany a harvest following such a courageous act of planting. I yearn to be known as one who acts so boldly as to plant new life in the face of grief, pain, and loss. I yearn to belong to others who do the same.

“In this great turning we shall learn to lead in love.”

And so, beloved, this season my Advent song is this one. It kindles a prophetic imagination in me, a vision that sees clearly the distortion of the world as it is, and helps me imagine the world according to the purposes of a God who is always calling us to life. In this great turning of our lives, we do not leave our grief nor do we forget the suffering and loss. But such an imagination, kindled this season, invites us to turn away from the glittering center of empires, to tend fires of belonging, and to see how God is bringing life and leading us forth in love.