Reading

Song of Songs

Hebrew Scripture

BARB.  I hear my Beloved.
See how he comes leaping on the mountains,

bounding over the hills.

My Beloved is like a gazelle, like a young stag.

(Chuckles are heard in the hall.  Barb turns to the gathering and says "It is biblical!".  Even more laughter.)

See where he stands behind our wall.

He looks in at the window,
He peers through the lattice.

My Beloved lifts up his voice, and says to me:

CHARLES.  Come then, my love, my lovely one, come.

For see, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth,
The season of glad songs has come.

The fig tree is forming its first figs and
The blossoming vines give out their fragrance.

Come then, my love, my lovely one, come.

BARB.  My Beloved is mine and I am his.
CHARLES.  My Beloved is mine and I am hers.

Silence

CONNIE.  As Charles attends the Quaker Meeting, it is our wish that a worshipful silence will be held at this time.  As is Quaker custom, those who wish to are welcome to speak spontaneously out of the silence any words of encouragement or blessing for Charles and Barb.  Please allow some silence between each speaker so that your words may sink into all of us.

 

Beggars to God	Bob Franke
Timothy Kocher-Hillmer - drum, Alicia Beckford Wassink - vocal,  Dirk Beckford Wassink - guitar

The song of Gypsy Davy rang delighted through the night The wise and foolish virgin kept her candle burning bright Rise up my young and foolish one and follow if you can There'll be no need for candles in the arms of such a man. Make love with each other, be free with each other Be prisoners of love til you lie in the sod Be friends to each other, forgive one another See God in each other, be beggars to God.

The night was cold & dark & wet as they wandered on alone The sky became their canopy, the earth became their throne & as their raiment ran to rags, they thought it nothing wrong For earth & sky are robe enough when you sing the Gypsie's song They sang & played the Gypsies' song wherever they were sent To some it seemed a dancing tune, to some a sad lament But in ev'ry heart that heard them true, a tear became a smile And a pauper or a prince became a Gypsy for a while.

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