Bliss & Blues

Blessed are you, O GOD, O Eternal Mercy,
and woe to us who cannot welcome mercy
in our hearts and in generosity to others.
Blessed be the strangers who bear grace.

Blessed are you, O GOD, O Delightful Joy,
and woe to us who cannot dance & whirl
without the highs of risk or consumption.
Blessed be the companions who seek peace.

Blessed are you, O GOD, O Righteous Way,
and woe to us who cannot remain planted
with patience to bear fruit or reap healing.
Blessed be the diviners who point to oases.

cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals

Lent 30 (Beati-bulls)

I call bull*.

Tell me, Jesus, what good is the kingdom of God to those who are barely scraping by, living paycheck-to-paycheck (or not even!) without a moment of relief to separate the hours of haunting stress?

What good is a heavenly feast to someone who’s not had the luxury of sitting down to a hot meal for days, feet weary, back sore, soul pricked and admonished and scattered by the gatekeepers of respectability?

Bull* on your beatitudes.

The blessing of laughter is an empty promise to those who have lost their breath at the hands of another, and an insult to those whose tears have become the fuel of protest; laughing tomorrow does not create justice today.

How tolerant of hatred, of slander or exclusion, of defamation, of bias do your children need to be before they are guaranteed to dance on streets of gold, and why — in the name of Holy Life — would you see us put up with that?

Bull*, Jesus.

And about those woes: it should be said that I can’t be trusted to abstain from pursuing satisfaction and satiation in this life just so I won’t be hungry in the next; really, I don’t think you should trust me with that kind of decision.

Truth be told, I don’t only want joy and justice today for all of humanity and creation — I want it for me, too, preferably yesterday but I’m willing to wait until tomorrow; I don’t care if you call me “blessed,” Jesus, most of all I want to be blessed.

So in fairness: I call bull* on me, too.

on Luke 6:20-26

Sunday Prayer

In silence we wait for you.
. . . . .

In silence we pour out our hearts.
. . . . .

In silence we listen for your word.
. . . . .

In silence we hear:
“Blessed. Bless.”

Most Holy God,

Bless those who are poor.
Be generous where we have been stingy,
loving where we have been shaming.

Bless those who mourn.
Hold in your hands the tears and aching hearts
of those who have sat with death.

Bless those who hunger and thirst.
Sustain your children; satisfy the longing
of your people for justice.

Bless the merciful and the peacemakers.
To those who are doing your work, overflow with
discontent and strength for perseverance.

Bless the light and the salt.
By the light and the salt, reveal our true nature
so that we might shine, unconcealed.

Bless your followers and your wanderers.
Change your mind about us by your holy grace,
and we will trust in you always.

In silence we wait for you.
. . . . .

In silence we pour out our hearts.
. . . . .

In silence we listen for your word.
. . . . .

Most Holy God, call us onward to your good news.

Power belongs to you alone, Most High God,
power and love and mercy.
Amen and amen.

Cross-posted at RevGalBlogPals.