Koinonia (4) - English

IV. THE INVITATION

The most challenging thing for me is not the thinking about how to design the program for this gathering, since over the time, I find that the program is just a means for God to work when we gather in His name. The challenge for me is how to find the right words to invite all of you on this journey filled with lots of unknowns…

Suddenly, I recall a poem “The Invitation” of Oriah Moutain Dreamer…

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments

If I let myself inspired by Oriah’s poem, here is my invitation for you all for Koinonia:

It doesn’t interest me what is your role in our community; either you are a great leader or a simple citizen. I want to know if you are ready to come and cooperate in the creating of a new future, yours and mine.

It doesn’t interest me that you are an old or new companion. I want to know if we are sharing the same conviction and compassion.

It doesn’t interest me that you already have pronounced your commitment or not. I want to know if in 10 years and more, you will still be there, beside me, in this journey.

It doesn’t interest me how many rooms you have in your house. I want to know if you have space for wonder, gratitude, surrender and compassion in your heart.

It doesn’t interest me if you are older or younger than me. I want to know if you are ready to encourage me to find my own meaning, my own voice; and let me do the same to you.

And in the silence of my heart, I find myself desiring to listen to your own invitation…

(To be continued…)