ZION
THE PLACE
Far away in the west.
The Rocky Mountain Empire -- temporarily.
Only the forerunner of the City of Zion that will someday emerge.
As the New Jerusalem.
Obscure and long forgotten now,
Its location has never altered from the Prophet's description
On the western border of the state of Missouri.
Independence,
The centerstake.
A quiet, misnamed hamlet whose history is
Persecution,
Hatred,
Murder,
And extermination sanctioned by a government sworn to defend
Independence and freedom to worship.
So now we wait in the mountains.
Babylon quietly assimilates a peculiar people,
Once strange,
Now loved and admired by the world.
No longer peculiar,
Accepted, while we luxuriate in our mountain Zion.
But the best teams of horses
And our finest wagons are not poised and eager for the call.
It is night.
All is well,
And we sleep.
Contented.
We have made certain the plans have changed.
We are righteous now.
The world attests to our popularity
Even the once-hated Missourians finally rescind the extermination decree.
Zion is now defined as the place you live,
While Jackson County waits,
Forgotten,
For the sound of the angel’s clarion trumpet that will
Cleanse,
Purify,
And sweep the inhabitants off as with the whirlwind,
Without so much as a little yellow dog left to tell the tale.
But now we prosper in our mountain retreat,
And slumber.
THE PEOPLE
Strangers and foreigners,
Seeking for a city whose maker and builder is God,
Their prayers ascending
As a witness against a world gone astray.
The meek among men,
Their calling and election assured,
But unheralded.
They know sacrifice,
Service,
The Spirit.
They fill their lamps with the oil of the gospel
Before the Bridegroom comes,
And watch patiently,
Never wavering in their faith of the coming dawn of a brighter day.
They lean on the arm of Spirit
While others sleep in the warm embrace of the arm of flesh.
They raise the ensign of faith through their consecration
Of time,
Of talents,
Of all with which they are and will be
Blessed.
They will welcome their cousins in Israel,
Long lost,
Fall upon their necks and kiss them,
And rejoice that they are found among the four corners of
Earth's expanse --
Refugees,
Outcasts,
But never "lost" again.
Together the people,
Peculiar again,
Are set unmoved at last on Zion's mount,
A beacon light to a dark and fallen world,
Groaning,
Weighed down in its iniquity.
THE CONDITION
The society of believers.
Everyone speaks
In the name of the Lord.
No one teaches his neighbor,
No need, since each inhabitant of the City of Zion knows Him.
The individual stewardship is magnified and enlightened
For the common welfare of all brothers and sisters.
Gone are the investment portfolios,
The retirement and pension plans,
The gods
Of stone,
Of glass,
Of metal,
Of chrome,
And wood.
Hearts are purged
Of lust and envy,
Of once-treasured financial strategies and
False worship.
The goal eternal life,
Spreading the truth as with a flood.
One heart,
One mind,
One faith,
One hope.
Independent of every creature beneath the celestial world.
Free from bondage in the "great society"
Consumed by the weight of its own avarice.
Granted its birthright in the fulfillment of destruction.
It is the great beginning.
THE TIME
Today. The sixth seal.
Here and now.
"Describing Zion will not bring it about," saith the Prophet.
Doing,
Loving,
Longing,
Serving,
Preparing.
Today, the eleventh hour of the sixth seal, and now the
Tomorrow our forefathers spoke of and prayed for
Yesterday.
Tomorrow is the seventh seal
Only a sunrise away,
And even now the fingers of
Light
Glimmer faintly on the horizon of our mountain Zion
Toward the east.
But still we sleep until
Vengeance
Begins upon our house
To awaken us.
Then Zion rises, clothed in her beautiful garment for the Bridegroom,
The bride,
The wedding,
And the feast.
The time for preparation?
Today.
The time of fulfillment?
Tomorrow.
Now and not yet,
But soon.