Lent 20

What a delight, O Divine Mystery,
to know you (however imperfectly)
and be known by you (inescapably)!
I cannot begin to grasp you
and yet you are tangible
in the warmth of a blanket and
a glass of wine with a friend.
I wonder at your need for us, for our worship;
I, on the other hand, cannot be without you.
Stay with me always, and let me
never lack for joy in seeking you.

Lent 19

“By the power at work within us, God is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine.” (Ephesians 3:20)

O my God, whatever happened to the power at work within us to accomplish abundantly for all people? What power have we lost or abandoned that we have failed collectively to achieve — or at least make a decent start at building — a covenanted and mindful global community? What spiritual gifts have we sold out in the name of security and “this is mine, that is yours”? What imagination have we forgotten that we possess, what happened to our creativity, for turning swords into plowshares, oil wells into bread baskets, empty rhetoric into wisdom? Dear God, for the sake of your reputation as good, for the sake of your life and body on this earth, we pray for your power to work within us again!

Lent 17

Ah, Holy Melody, sing me a love song in warm alto tones of compassion, a simple tune that I can learn and endlessly echo. Sing me a stirring descant of lament and let me cry (finally, really, let down and weep) over death and illness and love lost. Sing me a lullaby, a mesmerizing tenor solo to ease me into peacefulness. Sweet Holy Melody, sing me a spiritual in your best bass and rouse my heart to hold onto hope.

As soon as I wrote “sing me a love song,” the beautiful Sing Me To Heaven (Daniel Gawthrop) came to mind. There are certainly echoes of that song in my prayer.