Sunday Prayer

Be pleased to love us, O God our God,
as the mother hen loves her chicks,
as the bread loves to nourish the hungry.

Be pleased to love us, O God our God,
for love is your essence and character,
hospitality and creativity are your way of being.

Be pleased to love us, O God our God,
though our faithfulness is fickle
and our compassion suffers from impatience.

Be pleased to love us, O God our God,
with tenderness when our hearts are broken,
with righteous rage when our ways are destructive.

Be pleased to love us, O God our God,
through the terrors of the night
and into the dawn of hope.

Be pleased to love us, O God our God,
and our tongues will be loose with praise
like rocks that have found their voice.

Be pleased to love us, O God our God,
until all life is love,
until all wisdom is peace.

Amen.

cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals

Waiting

For those who die in the raging war of injustice,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those who kneel in protest and in despair,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those who dream and those who are haunted,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those fighting fires on land or in relationships,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those who are weary, for those hiding pain,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those who idolize success and worship wealth,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those who know no words that are not falsehoods,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those who are never satisfied and never humbled,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those who cannot rouse to the call of joy,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those whose cheeks are streaked with mourning,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

For those who feel lost, for those who need forgiveness,
O merciful God, hear our cries & our prayers.

O merciful God, Lover of all life and Peace to all people,
hear our cries & our prayers as we wait for you.

Amen.

cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals

Fourfold

David’s anger erupted when he heard the tale, “As the LORD lives,” he swore to Nathan, “the rich man who took his poor neighbor’s only lamb should die; he must restore the lamb fourfold because of what he did.” (2 Samuel 12:5-6)

David sinned against Uriah,
and Bathsheba suffered —
the assault on her body, the
humiliation of their marriage,
the death of a child. Tell me, O Just One:
when will Bathsheba’s loss be restored fourfold?

People sin against one another,
and those at the borders suffer —
the strain of codeswitching to navigate
safe passage, the walls of spirit and nation
that insult wayfarers and refugees, the death
of separation and criminalization. Tell me, O Just One,
when will the border-crossers and the marginalized be restored fourfold?

Fourfold — not forgiveness.
Fourfold — not fragile tears.
Fourfold — not false apologies.
Fourfold — not food that perishes.
Fourfold — not gaslighting reversals.

Fourfold.

Where, O Just One,
is the brick to rebuild the bulldozed home,
the insurance to sustain healing after trauma,
the sacrificed wealth to invest in polluted communities?
Where, O Just One,
is the king who surrenders his throne,
the rich man who gives up his bank account,
the suburb that gives up its segregated school district?

Must those who have been harmed
by the sin and selfishness of others
be content to beg heaven for manna?

Fourfold, O Just One.
Even David in his sin measured justice to be fourfold.
Will you bring about any less?

a prayer on this Sunday’s RCL texts;
cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals

Terrible Signs

“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.” – Luke 21:25-26

 In Cleveland this past winter, in the middle of February, we enjoyed a full week of spring-like temperatures in the 60s.

In the western region of the Pacific, small islands are gradually disappearing under rising ocean waters.

So far in 2018 in the US, more school children have died by gunfire than military personnel have died in the line of duty (according to The Washington Post).

There are plenty of signs, terrible signs, all around us in the earth and the seas, in the stars and in the sun, in the news and in our communities. We are not lacking for signs.

The question is: how do we interpret them, and to what end?

Do we proclaim the signs of global warning to incite fear or to rally creativity?

Do we point to signs of violence to cast judgment or to join in lament?

Do we perceive heaven’s quaking as a call to humility or as an excuse for self-indulgence?

There are plenty of signs, terrible signs, and Jesus doesn’t promise their easy resolution but only: “the realm of God is near” and “my words will not pass away” (Luke 21:31-33).

Let signs come and go; Christ is near.

Let stars fall and heavens shake; we will watch and work together in the confidence of God Everlasting.

When I am afraid and troubled, be near to me, O Christ. When I would prefer to hide my head under a pillow or in the sand, help me draw near to others for the sake of your realm. Amen.

posted originally with Stillspeaking Daily Devotional

Unprepared

I would like, at least,
a roll of bread,
a flaky croissant,
a donut with a cup of coffee.

I would like, at least,
a tote bag,
a wallet with cash,
car keys if I need to change direction.

I would like, at least,
a clean shirt,
a change of clothes,
some comfy sweats & a pillow.

I would like, at least,
to be ready,
to have my supplies,
to know the landscape ahead of me.

Please don’t laugh, God.
I would like, at least,
to know what will be available
along this way, in case You are not.

on Mark 6:7-9