She wore all purple. A purple suit that looked like it kept her warm in an old church building where cool air seeped in from the beautiful stain windows that are definitely historic and have much more character than any efficiency windows. She probably gave money towards the upkeep of those glorious windows. Her purple hat sat perfectly on her seasoned hair, falling at the top of her eyebrows just right with a wide brim, not too wide to hide her smile, but wide enough to pronounce her wisdom. In all purple, she exuded royalty and demanded it.
The church lady in all purple, who probably marched in many Civil Rights protests; raised her fist against her oppressors; stood outside in the cold registering folks to vote; prayed for her children and her children’s children; told the pastor what the community needed; demanded fair housing; grew a garden in her kitchen; organized the annual women’s tea; took the bus to sit with a sick friend; made a pound cake from scratch; learned how to navigate Facebook; washes her bed linen and iron them weekly; keeps a lace handkerchief and mint candy in her pocketbook; praises her God with no shame; this black woman in all purple, walks up to the church mic and begins to sing John Lennon’s song, “Imagine”. It was absolutely beautiful!
This was a bold move. I love this song! I have always said that it should be a hymn but the lyrics of the song would force us to think, to do exactly what the song calls for. To imagine a place, a world where love and unity resides. Instead of preaching a heaven and hell we imagine there is no heaven or hell below us, above us only sky. Above us only God. No religion, but only God. No possessions, but enough for all. Imagine sharing all the world. What would communities of faith look like if we walk in revolutionary love, repenting as a community, instead of finding ways to separate ourselves from each other? Imagine this kind of world can truly exist. We would have to be intentional in our thinking and caring of each other. We would have to see each other, fully.
The lady in all purple, with her best Sunday church hat on, holds her her high and belts out the last verse of the song. She is determine. She is strong, with no fear as to what the congregation will think or what they will say and she sings out with the voice of an angel, “You may say I’m a dreamer. But I’m not the only one. I hope someday you’ll join us. And the world will live as one.” The church lady has spoken! Let it be so!