Litanies & Prayers

Stand amazed, you betrothed of unimagined Grace.
     Your siege is ending.

The Regent of Heaven shall come
    to reclaim the earth,
          to restore its shared inheritance,
     to redeem its memory of mercy
                 and its generous harvest.

In those days the remnant of pardon will arrive
from every far-flung hill and hamlet.
     Among them will be the shamed and forsaken,
           the exposed and exploited; the blind and the lame
                 and the laboring women.

Leader: God of justice and mercy, we gather as people of conscience and as people of faith. In our rich diversity, we assemble tonight in one spirit and with one purpose.

People: We convene our hearts, our hopes and our voices.

Leader: God of justice and mercy, we accompany our brother, Troy Davis, who in these moments faces state sponsored execution.  May he know the fullness of your embrace, of your freedom, of your love.  May he know that his witness, his courage and his faith will not die.

Jesus told his disciples a parable about those who get too big for their britches.

Who could that be? Hope it’s not me.

Two men stopped by the hospice chapel to pray. One was spiritual-but-not-religious (SNR). Big on centering prayer, sweat lodges, Taizé music and Tibetan prayer flags. On top of that, he’s an activist, an act-of-conscience jailbird, recycles everything, vegetarian, drives a hybrid, ACLU member, makes his own granola.

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing.

Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, "Be strong, fear not! Behold, your God will come with divine recompense to save you."

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame one leap like a deer, and the tongue of the dumb sing for joy.

The troubling breath of the
Blessed One broke into speech:
“Oh human one, hear my question and answer rightly.
Can these bones live? Can these bones live?”

Only You know. Only You know.

 “Then prophesy to these skeletal remains.”

The world is God’s and it will not fall apart.

The new age which the Lord has begun cannot be driven out or held back.

The church need not live out of fear as though the gospel were not true.

Listen, God. Pay attention. Bend your ear to the sigh of my soul.

The world can be too much.

Floods devastate the lives of friends in the Midwest. Drought continues here in the Southeast. Health care costs and foreclosures and the price of tortillas have us scrambling for spare change.

Listen to the voice of Wisdom, O people of folly. Hear the voice of understanding as She makes Her stand at the city gate and presides in the town square.

“All of you, hear my cry. Your lives are marked by trivial pursuits. Deceitful ways and crooked days are unbecoming, no matter how much gold acquired or jewel-attired.”

Guided by Wisdom’s voice every ruler’s choice leans toward just and worthy decrees.

Each of you, a bordered country,  / Delicate and strangely made proud, / Yet thrusting perpetually under siege.

Your armed struggles for profit / Have left collars of waste upon / My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.

Yet today I call you to my riverside, / If you will study war no more. Come, / Clad in peace, and I will sing the songs / The Creator gave to me when I and the / Tree and the rock were one.

Doubtless one day you will have cause
to chant the Prophet’s lament:

            Truly
           thou art a God
           who hidest thyself.

Even so, I still prefer this One to the other,
more snuggly brand, who feigns intimacy
but has the aroma of cheap perfume,
cheaper wine and layered sweat,
having been passed around by too many
lusty barkers for whom ecstasy's aftermath
           is nauseous stupor.