The Kingdom in the Street

THE KINGDOM in the STREET
By Ken Medema

I want to tell you about a dream.  The dream begins with a real event in my life.  I was just finishing my master's degree in music in college and I had been asked to sing the tenor solos in the performance of Messiah.  Now, this was a big deal at Michigan State University!  In my dream I can remember being on that stage and the orchestra beginning the introduction.  My heart was beating so fast.  This was my great moment... 

Comfort ye, comfort ye, my people;
Comfort ye.

In the middle of the aria, suddenly I was accosted by a great wind. It howled around my face, it whistled around my back, and it lifted me right off the stage.  I kicked and screamed and I said, "No.  I've got to finish the aria.  Please don't take me away from here!"  And the wind blew and I sailed higher and higher until I was flying right out the back door of that auditorium.  The wind would not let me go.  I said to the wind, "Where are we going?"

And the wind said, "Listen to me, child, and I will tell you."

            Come walk with me in the darkness,
            And as we walk along;
            I'll tell you quite a story,
            And I'll sing you quite a song.
            I'll sing of light and darkness,
            Of victory and defeat;
            Corruption on the mountains,
            And compassion in the streets.
   
                        For it's a long night,
                        And weary grow the feet 
                        That walk the long road,
                        But the morning will come sweet.
                        Yes, it's a long night
                        And the Prince is in the streets tonight.

            We're walking to the city,
            And Chaos is its name,
            And in its streets and alleys
            Are the blind, the sick, the maimed
            And the children cry for water,
            And relief seems out of sight,
            And they dream about tomorrow
            In the darkness of the night.

                        For it's a long night,
                        And weary grow the feet 
                        That walk the long road,
                        But the morning will come sweet.
                        Yes, it's a long night
                        And the Prince is in the streets tonight.

And suddenly the wind put me down and I was in the middle of the streets of a great and tumultuous city. The city was named Chaos and death was everywhere.  Children with distended stomachs lay on the streets and vacuous teenagers stood on the corners wondering what to do with themselves.  Old people rocked back and forth on their porches.  The stench of death was everywhere.  I could see that running through the middle of the city there was what used to be a river and now the river was dry.  Between its banks was nothing but trash and weeds and refuse.  A horrible place.  I screamed at the wind, "Take me out of here!  I can't stand to be here!  I don't belong here!"

And the wind said, "Certainly, my child, I will remove you from this place."

The wind began to blow again and it lifted me high above the city streets.  I said to the wind, "Where are we going now?"

The wind said, "Listen and I will tell you."

            Well, just outside that city
            Far from the blight and pain,
            Is a holy mountain fortress 
            Where life seems calm and sane.
            There is feasting there and singing
            By tranquil waterfalls,
            And the street folks never come there,
            'Cause they cannot climb the walls.

            At the gateway to the fortress,
            The Man of Sorrows cries.
            A Prince in beggar's clothing,
            With compassion in His eyes.
            And the mountain folk won't hear Him,
            So He turns His feet around,
            And the ruler of the mountains
            Becomes a servant in the town.

                        For it's a long night,
                        And weary grow the feet 
                        That walk the long road,
                        But the morning will come sweet.
                        Yes, it's a long night
                        And the Prince is in the streets tonight.

Suddenly I was deposited on the top of a great and tall hill.  There on the top of the hill was a holy mountain fortress cathedral.  I could hear the bells ringing everywhere and the folk were all coming to worship. I said, "Yes!  This is the place I want to be!"  There were lovely houses all around the cathedral.  There was a lake there that I knew had been made when the river that used to run through the city was dammed up.  "I want to go in and worship," I said to the wind.

The wind shouted, "No. You will stay here."  Then they closed the door of the holy mountain cathedral and I could hear in the background the music.

"May I please go in?" I said to the wind.

And again the wind said, "No. You will stay here."

And then I saw him coming up the hill looking like a Man of Sorrows who bore the weight of all the world on his shoulders.  And he sang these words:

            If anybody would come after me,
            Let him take up his cross and follow me.
            If anybody would come after me,
            Let him take up his cross and follow me.

Well, some of the people in the holy mountain fortress cathedral must have heard him because they came out the back door.  They knelt at his feet and they said, "What shall we do?"  They cried as if in abject sorrow.  And he said with a smile on his face, "Get up, for we have great things to do in the city."  And then he led them down the hill toward the city.

The wind said to me, "You will go, too."

I said, "No.  I am afraid!"

The wind said, "You will go, too."

So I followed the little band into the city.  There I saw all the things I had seen before, all the death and destruction, the vacuous teenagers, and the old people on the corners.  But I saw something I had never seen before.  A great banquet table was all set up in the city streets.  There were hundreds of thousands of people sitting around the banquet table feasting and singing.  There was great dancing and music everywhere.  They were singing something like this:

            When all of the world shall feast again,
            Hurrah, hurrah;
            Injustice and crime are ended then,
            Hurrah, hurrah.
            Then all the valleys with joy shall ring,
            And all the people on Earth shall sing.
            And we will not rest 'til all of the world shall feast.

            When weapon is plow and hoe again,
            Hurrah, hurrah;
            Shall mercy like rivers flow again,
            Hurrah, hurrah.
            Then darkness shall be done away,
            And we shall see salvation's day.
            And we will not rest 'til weapon is plow and hoe
            And we will not rest 'til all of the world shall feast.

And I along with the others sat at the table and enjoyed the great feast.  Then it was that the Man of Sorrows came to me—to all of us who were gathered there at the table—and he said, "What will you do in my city?"  To some who had the gift of building things he said, "Go build more tables so that there will be tables for everyone to enjoy my banquet.  Go build shelters for the homeless and the hungry and the cold."  To some who had the gift of telling, "Go and tell the story of my banquet table.  Write it, fax it, send it on computers, put it on the telephone lines, put it everywhere that there is room at my table for everyone."

And then the Man of Sorrows gave to those who had the gift of disruption the assignment to go the holy mountain fortress and to break the dam which had blocked the river of life from running in the city.  Then he came to me.  "What will you do, son?"

I said, "I don't know. I don't belong here."  I could hear the ringing of bells.

"Son, what will you do in my city?" said the Man of Sorrows.

"I don't know," I said, "I'm frightened!  I would rather be up in the holy mountain fortress."  The ringing of the bells was like the ringing of a death bell, the death of all the life I had known.

"What will you do in my city?" said the Man of Sorrows.

"I'm afraid!" I said.  "I'm afraid!"  I heard the ringing of the bell and suddenly the ringing of the bell became the ringing of the alarm bell on my bedside table.  I shut off the alarm and I lay there for a long time thinking about the images in my dream, the Man of Sorrows, and the table in the city streets.  Still I could hear the call: "What will you do in my city, my child?"  So while I lay there in bed, I wrote my last verse to the song that the wind had taught me when we were flying high above the city streets.

            Come see the kingdom coming,
            Come see the victory day,
            There will be no need for fortress walls,
            For there is a better way.
            The Prince will lift the lowly,
            And the proud will know defeat,
            Don't look for the kingdom on the mountain,
            For it's coming in the street.

                        For it's a long night,
                        And weary grow the feet 
                        That walk the long road,
                        But the morning will come sweet.
                        Yes, it's a long night
                        And the Prince is in the streets tonight.