Sadly, critics who too often need to place even worship literature into an academic and literary antecedent context miss the purpose for which the stories are intended, the stirring of the soul.

     Pilgrim had worn sandals, they were caked with mud, the soles, sometimes leather, sometimes wood, were thin and cracked in places. On her journey, Pilgrim had determined that the Saints were Angels and the reverent places of the earth were where people gathered in righteousness. Likewise, Pilgrim had learned that Holy Places were those where Saints and Sinners, together with the heavenly hosts, had encountered the Divine Presence of God, through the gift of visions, acts of mercy, miracles, cures, healings; and in rapturous transformations brought on by deep worship, high praises, and sincere witnessing, that led often to converted souls and greater richness of the experience of the Living God.

     Pilgrim had remained true to the traditions of the early Temple praise and worship, that is, she had stored them in her heart. She had lived through David's dance before God, and even earlier Miriam's victory dance when the Children of Israel had crossed the Sinai.

     Pilgrim had lived and danced the praise worship of every Psalm. She knew and loved the cymbals, tambourines, drums, harps, lutes, the Ram's Horn, the raised voices shouting "Hallelujah," and the reverent processional and recessional dances of desert agrarian and nomadic peoples. She knew that in truth the verses of the Psalms had captured the history of the people; therefore, whenever they were performed the people were re-enacting their Covenant experience with God. As a body, as individuals like David, and like the tribes, the people were dancing and singing in praise, worship and liturgy--living symbols of the saving grace of God. They had been brought from the status of "no people" to "the children of God." "Jahweh," "Elohim," "Jehovah," "I Am That I Am" had saved them, requiring them to "have no other God's before me" and "remember the Sabbath Day to keep it Holy." Pilgrim saw how the people kept the Sabbath honoring God and putting down all derision and strife. Likewise they kept the festival days of high worship for a God whose very nature and grace-filled acts toward his people evoked thankfulness and praise.

     Pilgrim wore a habit which was invisible to many, as it looked like an ordinary robe of the times. But the robe was a holy garb, its threads were Holy whispers, words of the Prophets, sayings of the "small voice" like that which had come to Elijah when he faced the Baals of Jezebel and had prevailed against them, when he fled to save his life. But, just as important, the threads were the prayers of Saints, and the very sacred words of God. The robe had been woven by "those on high" and when it was presented to the Pilgrim, draped lovingly over her shoulders, the sacred one whispered; "The name of this habit is 'to Learn' and you must never break our covenant with it, for it has been given by the one in whom we live and breathe and have our being.'" Pilgrim learned that in wearing this habit she would never be alone, that she would always be in the company of the righteous who were seeking harmony, wisdom and kinship, in whatever time or place they were born.

     Thus, by the power of God, Pilgrim wearing the habit, the sandals, and carrying a staff moved on in time, from the age of the Old Testament to that of the Pentecost.

Pilgrim awoke at dawn singing:
"In the evening, Saul's madness put to sleep
by David's harp, Saul's anger wrested from his heart,
Saul, peaceful, put to sleep by music of our God, . . .
play on dear music harmony of love.
"Here now at forest edge, the sandy world spread out in excellence ofmorning our scattered pieces of the world . . . calves, sheep shelters, families, servants, and children, all in quiet voices speak. It is the peace of God we sing for this long legacy of life in the excellence of morning, a day so softly dawning it stirs the world like quiet prayer."
"We have arrived at Jerusalem," Pilgrim spoke to herself, her silent companion.

     Suddenly she was aware of sounds that were troubling. Amid the running to and fro of men and women shouting in the streets in foreign tongues, and in the midst of people pushing and shoving--there they were, the eleven, they were witnessing the presence of the Holy Spirit. The multitude of non-believers was appalled at this strange sight, this self-proclaimed Holy-Spirit-fired rabble congregation--these Galilean working men of low estate speaking to them in their own native tongues. To their question, "What does this mean?" came the answer from among their own men, "Ignore them, they are filled with new wine!"

     But these, the Upper Room Disciples drenched from weeks of prayer, were staggering in Holiness! Christ had kept his promise! The holy fire of God had come roaring upon them, rocking and reeling them in blazing tongues with a power that was uncommon. It caused the disciples to proclaim not just the "times and seasons" of God's authority--but to proclaim the POWER from on high--the power which gave them the native tongues to speak to these foreign visitors to Jerusalem for the Hebrew Pentecost--the power to be witnesses of Christ's Lordship in heaven and on earth below--and the power to convert three thousand that day, ushering in that which John had begun at His baptism--the Messianic Age of Jesus the Christ!

     Yes! Pilgrim was amazed! From where she stood at the edge of the street-assembled congregation she exhorted them, exclaiming to the children and non-believers lurking about, "Look, see, the Holy Circus has been brought about! Accept the clowns--you know them as the ridiculed ones. They have been baptized by fire! The Holy Spirit has put into their mouths the tongues of the worshippers of many lands; even tongues of the forgotten ones, and tongues of the ecstatic, and the tongues of the enamored Holy Ones, whose spirits burnished to copper, radiate the fires of the God we love!" Many of those who heard fell down, stunned by the power promised to them through the disciples who had accompanied Jesus in his ministry and witnessed his death at the crucifixion, his resurrection Easter Morning and his return and pronouncement on the Mount of Olives.

     Pilgrim leaned upon her staff testifying and exhorting them and prophesying to them of wonders yet to come!

     Off in the shadows of the glades where only Pilgrim could see the vision of them, the Angels performed and laughed with the giddiness of children. Their friends, the animals marched, trotted, scampered and jumped round in circles trumpeting and roaring their noises in unflagging unison. In such holy noise raised like incense to the kingdom, the angel clowns delighted the elders and children all the more--exhorting these to play before the Lord. It was a most lovely vision!

     For, "It is all for joy!" the angel clowns shouted. "We show you the ridiculous faces of sorrow only to rip them off, to show you the tears and laughter that must follow your seasons of mourning!"

     Pilgrim saw a babe in arms teething. Playing the clown she quieted him, and an old man danced with her and a hypocrite slid back into the fold. All along, (even in this perfect vision) the raucous noise upset the members of the quiet temples. Even some who wanted to believe in perfect union with Christ were troubled by those who openly expressed their love in ecstatic holiness.

     Pilgrim leaning on her staff and speaking quietly to them, as disciples often must, whispered, "Don't be afraid, Emmanuel is with us--it's just that we are joyful in our Holy Spirit fest! Come, and be a part of it, the Holy Circus has come to town.

     Mrs. Pilgrim sat in her customary pew. She was dedicated to her church and to all her church children, she had earned the respect of her brothers and sisters in this little black church congregation. But she was known to "speak truth" and this often riled the preacher who grew up believing that to "preach to the preacher" was worse than uncouth! Today, they were not only on different sides of the room, but also on different sides of the answer to the question.

     "And why shouldn't we attend the Revival Reverend? Look to me like we're in a, a, whatchacallit downsizing right here at Church of Goshen. Why the pews ain't been filled from front to back in manya season and the children don't know the bible lessons at Sunday School. The choir done had voices cracked and ready to be high-jacked (she liked to be fresh just a little when she acted up) and yet nobody new won't join in. Why can't we go to the Rally Rev. when the preachin (she saw Rev. wince at this one) and the prayin and the shoutin--specially amongst a bunch of strangers just now become willing Christian friends--why Rev. it sounds to me like a spiritual picnic, a regular--"

     Rev. jumped to his feet, "Now, Mrs. Pilgrim (spoken slowly enough to make her lift her eyebrow and shrug her shoulders to release the tension), Mrs. Pilgrim we ought not need to go over this point again. Church of Goshen is a small Black congregation…"

     "I know that," the Pilgrim butted in. "Well, Mrs. Pilgrim we have neighborhood concerns, property concerns, convention concerns…"

     "What are you tryin to say Rev., that Black people don't belong to no world but one? That we sat around ignorin and being ignored by everyone and this be right and just so?"

     The Reverend pursed his lips and started again, "I don't expect no person from this church with one ounce of Black pride to run downtown to white money-grubbin roadrunner evangelists." (He grew more emphatic, his anger boiling over). "White people put us in this place! They don't care nothin bout us! They won't yo money thas all--yo Black-worker-hard-earned put the food in your mouth, the clothes on your back, the roof over yo head Black dollars!"

     Mrs. Pilgrim raised her head to look more directly at him. "Rev. is Jesus Christ Black, red, yellow, white or brown? Is the Spirit your claim gotcha fallin down on Sunday morning in a body like yours and mine? Is the equivalent of the stars a, a accident? (She liked to use "important" words when she got angry--I use 'em 'cause they don't let me down, she was known to say). Rev. soun like that age old rascal racism comin' from yo pulpit again."

     The Preacher's eyes turned blood red and he didn't try to control his voice, he started to rant and all in a shout.

     "You look here Mrs. Pilgrim if you can't conduct yourself like a proper…" (she butted in), "You mean a, a, a, obedient Christian? Obedient to what? to who Rev.? To God or to a human that done fell off from makin sense?"

     "I'm warning you Mrs. Pilgrim the church can find that it needs to put its troublemakers out!"

     At this Mrs. Pilgrim rose from her seat and stood before the congregation, "Ain't none a yawl eva heard about the Holy Spirit Circus Come to Town?"

     The members flabbergasted by this latest incident sat dumbfounded looking like lost sheep that didn't know how to come back home, nor how to get away.

     "Well shame on you little children…" (Mrs. Pilgrim was known to preach a good sermon when she took a likin to and this night was one for certain.)"

     "When God created Adam (the First Man) hit don't say hit was red clay, gray clay, black clay or pink clay, or brown clay--Do it?" (The congregation muttered and some of the elders nodded in visible, self assured agreement).

     "And when God take up his time to do somethin He do it right don't he little children?" (A few people shifted in their seat, cleared their throats and managed a few under their breath "amens").

     "Well I'm commenced to tell you that God give every human they color jes to satisfy him." ("Well," said one of the Deacons, "Well, Well" said another one and "Gone and tell it Pilgrim jes like you want--Amen").

     "And God give every peoples they language, they tongue, in other words. He give it to them to talk to him! Did you heard what I said? God give man and woman they tongue to talk to him--talk to him 'bout trouble on mah mind. Waiting fo the bad news to git ova, 'Jus, mus git right for God, for God make eva I'm needin be alright!'" (Well, the members had by now got caught up in the rhythm of the preaching; they had feared the darkness of night, had hated the coming of the dawn another troubled day; and they had turned their heads hating to look back for fear that trouble was gaining on them. But now, they rocked in their seats, got happy and waved their hands to witness for His coming. Some cried, some prayed, some sang and some fell back and let the spirit wash over them, cleansing them and calming them).

     "Well children, look like Old Pilgrim was standin in Jerusalem when the disciples done been hit by a Power of the Holy Ghost! Look like Old Pilgrim moved onto the sides and jes watched him shoutin and prayin and singing in a foreign tongue--and I seed de amazement in the eyes of the foreigners--for de could understand them clear as de day!

     "Old Pilgrim seed people laughin and cryin at the same time feelin that river of love all de way down from heaven to a single woman and a single child, and a single man. And Pilgrim see that river come round and circle de group til there weren't not one stranger among em--and you know the Pilgrim do not lie!"

     "I think Old Pilgrim 'members from my God-given intuition seein those angels cuttin up, and foolin around to cheer up the mourners--seen 'em even actin like clowns--God-clowns--come to de Kingdom a' God, right cheer on dis here ground."

     "For you young ones, dis whatchacall a Holy Vision--a thing like where God does His own testifyin . . . don't nobody, man, woman, child, nor preacher hafta make nothin up. Why you jes open yo eyes or close 'em as he like, and he show you his meanin in a perfect vision. I testify here and now the God of Pentecost ain't got no illegal, no illegitimate children--what he promise for me he promise for all. He promise us and he deliver Pentecost, tongues of fire and Power for what we mus testify and witness for Him that he is God of All, and God of love."

     "Three thousand "the good book say--three thousand converted that Pentecost Day. Look a' here children time is runnin out. You either believe you to love yo neighbor or you believe God is a liar" (She looked at the congregation sternly, settin right her hat which by now was slightly tilted and she paused and wiped away the perspiration. She spoke softly now and the church knew she was coming to a close). "Now children, I ain't got time for ghosts in my path. You know Satan is always busy tryin to take yo blessin by usin up yo good and satisfied mind. Sister Pilgrim is goin to the revival--tain't nothing better--not even Ringlin Brothers and Barnum and Bailey can beat this here circus--Old Pilgrim goin to see the Angels laughin with the peaceful animals and the angel clowns--and I hopes to live to tell you 'bout the good day I walks outa Goshen to see the Holy Ghost circus what's come to town." Amen.

     The Vicar was restless and discontent. The well had dried up, the land was parched, his parishioner's crops were being damaged by animals, (for food could not be foraged in the woods). And his personal fount was bubbling low, his years of shepherding were beginning to take its toll.

     As if to excite a bit more pain he told himself that McTavish, the local brewmaster could preach a better sermon for no shekels--just brew! He at least got a few Amens from the locals who beat on the bar, tapped their feet, whistled, and on occasion spat tobacco juice!

     Feeling envious of the Brewmaster's rowdy but faithful few, the Vicar thought to himself--"What good am I? The people need a firm hand, there's something unsettling about to happen, something underhanded."

     His mind trailed off to the stranger he had seen in the small town. Thinking he had come before the circus, he had intended to ignore him. But glancing at him he saw an uncommon look in his eyes, and there was an unexplainable mix of nobility and humility in his unhurried gait, and bowing greeting gestures.

     Vicar couldn't help but study the man. Curious, he asked if he needed to get somewhere. The stranger assured "I need no earthly help, I am a lover of God, in truth I am a pilgrim." At this the Vicar thought he heard a whisper, "Theophilus." But he decided not to engage the stranger whose tattered dress and appearance was indeed strange enough to be to an observant, perhaps knowing person, a warning. Or as we would put it, Vicar had a funny feeling about him.

      But Vicar had his own concerns, a Holy Spirit Circus (He called the Revival a Circus) was expected in his sedate town, already over the low rolling hills he could see the people coming. "Too high spirited he thought to himself." "They act as if they're going to the Highland games!" And then and there he decided his flock should not be going! He thought to himself "With all these other distractions why should I be forced to put up with this? What is going on here?"

     That Sunday the Vicar entered the elegant sanctuary. The morning sun shone brightly, lighting the exquisite stained glass windows--it was without question the most beautiful sanctuary in the town. Father Sharp looked intently at the congregation, cleared his throat and began.

     "For people of your intellect, social station, and religious bearing what could be worse than appearing to be lacking in fidelity, in the blessings of God, and lacking in self esteem, self fulfillment and personal dignity? What could be worse than wasting your time with down on their luck manipulators, noisy incompetents who may be looking for a handout, or people who've thrown good opportunities away, to call themselves the unfortunate, marginalized and oppressed?"

     "I hear a religious circus (his word for revival) has come to town with youth bands, games, caps and whistles, free food, prizes, demonstrations; and oh, by the way a word about God, a little attention to religion." He added this last piece sarcastically.

     Father Sharp was known for his quick wit and short tolerance for all but sedate, traditional, institutionalized practice of religion. Even so, the congregants were stunned when he said, "You don't need to go, you don't need what they're giving." People were even more disquieted because the Religious Circus Leaders as he called them were foreigners and Father Sharp led a homogeneous congregation. But no one said a word.

     "Discipline and hard word you will find listed in The Articles of Faith of this denomination. You will find the history of the Church and its practices and ways to tell that you are a Christian." (Those who were awake and listening tried to cast Vicar's argument into a Holy one, but they were pawing at hard earth, since there did not appear to be a problem that directly confronted them. He continued.)

     "Belief is paramount, experience is not. Water baptism is paramount, the Pentecost happened but once. Evangelists the world over will waste your time, let the book of discipline be your religious guide."

     Was he forgetting the congregation, many converts from many flocks, had had a variety of experiences? Some knew the power of fasting, the fecundity of praying, the spiritual release of heartfilled singing, and they felt afraid. It seemed to them the Vicar was casting aspersions on religious dignity, when expressed in ways other than his own. And while they had joined the church under his leadership, for many it was not because of the need to abandon another Christian's choice, but precisely because this church promised room for growth and exploration, without the need for derision.

     Still others who had always worshipped in their present denomination and who had never even questioned the religious character and nature of others, were now suddenly cut short--they knew nothing and therefore could not find fault--but because they knew nothing, perhaps they should extend themselves to satisfy this new curiosity, because after all, "aren't we all Christians? Shouldn't we at least know about each others' faults and problems? The congregation wilted under the Vicar's preaching which moved from "thou shalt not" to "like the converts at Pentecost we must forget our differences."

     And on this certain morning a Religious Pilgrim named Theophilus or "Lover of God" (the stranger) was visiting, sent from the High Kingdom. He was hungry for the pure word of God and stories from the bible, telling of the POWER of God to evangelize his own people so that they in turn, might evangelize others and bring them into the High Kingdom. He sat dry eyed wondering at what he had heard. Wanting to learn truth on his journey, he returned the following Sunday; and after the service he again sat dry eyed and wondering.

     Theophilus (The Lover of God) had long been a pilgrim, his habit had aged and his sandals offered little protection on this new kind of road surface. He was more accustomed to traveling lonesome roads, following the by ways, and treading over rocky ground. His staff once tall was worn down to where it now looked like a cane, and he struggled for breath in the dirty air of this modern little kingdom. Weary, the Pilgrim sat down on the grass and rested his back against a comforting tree; he kept thinking of Mt. Olivet, and a promise he was told of by Luke the physician. It seems Jesus had told the eleven disciples (after the death of Judas) not to leave Jerusalem until the Holy Spirit had come to give them power. "Lover of God" now himself the Pilgrim-disciple wondered what to do next. His memories of Pentecost were vivid and inviting. Hadn't he been told of a religious revival where people like those pilgrims at that early Pentecost invited the Holy Spirit to set them free? But what of this church of formal worship, with its country parish charm; could he, should he, revive its "hunger and thirst after the power of God." Why were they (or were they) so set against experiencing him?

     Meanwhile convinced that he had to prove this circus was in truth a distraction for true and pious Christians, Vicar drove into the woods surrounding the village green and climbed into a tree from where he could see, (but not be all seeing). There was much singing and a general uproar of tumultuous noise. There was also the gnarled old man, the stranger who had said his name was Pilgrim. Behind him were flocks of sheared animals: on the right were sheep, on the left were goats. Vicar realized without their coats it was difficult to tell them apart--and he was horrified! And all the more since they had been sheared in random competition before the Sermon--and the shearers were dressed like, like, Angels! Vicar was horrified indisputably.

     Nearby he saw children playing with the lambs. They were holding, it seemed to him, a parade; and despite his sullen mood he could not help but see the sweetness in the scripture verse . . . "And a little child shall lead them."

     At the same time and to his dismay, Vicar was convicted in his heart that the "what is going on here?" was not all wrong and certainly not all bad. "Why then" he thought again to himself "does this make me angry--and why now do I feel sad? What…?" Quickly he looked around. There had been a sudden tug on his arm.

     Standing before him in raiments most odd, Vicar was shocked to see someone clearly not related to himself--he saw a clown. To add to the conundrum, he didn't know how he knew, but he knew this was a Christian clown. Vicar watched the slow broading comical smile and the clown's inviting hands. They drew first the image of the cross over the heart, then they rose in the gesture of prayer as the clown reverently lowered his head.

     Later when he would spread the good news of this day Vicar would struggle--"and in seconds it seemed no perhaps moments, but then again in" (Vicar's love of precision was failing him now, as God's time, he had preached so often, was unlike any other time, and so eternity can in God's twinkling of an eye be called a day).

     In the highest spirits anyone could expect of him Vicar would finally say, "Suddenly the clown burst into dance and it was magical. He was in glorious whirlings in and about the branches and leaves of the tree I sat upon! Then just as quickly, he had advanced to the top of the hill where music was playing." (Here, the Vicar would usually trail off in sweet revery). But while there, Vicar had stood in the breach to get a better look. Oh, the noisy group of youths playing was just a noisy shish-ka-bob to his discriminating ears. But it was so sincerely played and so captivating in its simplicity that Vicar felt moisture in his eyes. "Harumphh," was not enough to clear his throat of lumps and frogs, he discovered as he spontaneously tried to sing. Instead, what came out were giggles and sighs; shortly the Vicar was weeping, but his heart was thumping as if it were revived.

     In time he slipped down from his perch and began the walk back through the woods to his carriage. He was pleasantly surprised to see up ahead of him a doe and her fawn. He stopped to give them time to dash away but they seemed not to mind him--in fact by their glances and nods as they pawed the damp forest earth they seemed to be enjoying watching him! Satisfied on all accounts that they saw him as their friend he proceeded cautiously by the place they were standing.

     The Vicar didn't realize he was humming softly to himself until he stopped to listen "What is this song, so plain and yet so moving," he thought. "Aha, it's one sung by the Holy Ghost Circus Choir:

Trouble in mah way I got to cry sometime

Trouble in mah way I got to cry sometime . . ."

Vicar kept singing it calling to mind the words that speak of the saving power of God… (Those who've inquired of the Old Ones were told the Pilgrim still journeys and touches some along the way).