Litanies & Prayers

Merciful One, for You alone does my soul wait in silence. Our only hope comes from Your presence.

I believe. Help my unbelief.

You alone are my rock and my salvation and my fortress. I shall not be shaken. We shall not be moved.

For what do we hope?

We hope for the Beloved’s Promise to overtake the world’s broken-hearted threat.

For what do we long?

There are, to be sure, moments of high drama in the
work of holy obedience:
     marches to be made,
     confrontations to be staged,
     dangers to be endured,
     corruption to be exposed,
     trips made to distant and unfamiliar places,
     maybe even jail cells to be filled.

On rare occasions, the whole world is watching.

Much more often, the storyline of faith is lived without
notoriety, is forged without fanfare:
     in familiar places,
     in small acts of courage against petty tyrants,
     with commonplace forbearance in the midst
           of garden-variety stress.

Sisters and brothers, these are among the convictions that we harbor and herald:

Faith is not belief in spite of the evidence. Faith is life lived in scorn of the consequences.*

Faith isn’t a set of doctrines you agree to; or a set of religious habits you keep; or a particular emotion you feel.

Come, oh come, every supplicant soul, remember—how tender!—the story foretold.

The story—such splendor!—of love so astounding, of mercy resounding and pardon abounding.

Confounding the ransom of death’s dark dominion; restoring, imploring the earth’s fertile care.

Arise, shine; for your Light has come, for heaven’s Glory rises to greet you!

But how can such frivolous claims be made? For blind rage covers the earth, and the nations are allied in enmity.

Open your eyes, oh People of Promise! Throw off fear’s blinding cover and see the Radiance that lights the Way Home.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

By that Word were all things breathed to life from the breathless dark, knit into comely shape from nether and nil.

Even so was Wisdom present at the beginning, the great Sculptor of God’s delight, carving the depths of the seas and the heights of the mountains, assigning the waters their limit, the springs their origin and the soil its abundance.

It is with careless ease that we say, “Bless God, for all life is good,” when the sun shines during our outings, when no strain threatens our budget.

It’s easy, when life is blessed with children and our ancient ones live long and die in peace.

It takes little faith to acknowledge God’s goodness when terror remains at a distance.

Oh LORD, you are my shepherd, I shall not want.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

You make me lie down in green pastures; You lead me beside still waters.

Sisters and brothers, heed the appeal of Heaven’s approach: The sinews of life grow from bodies adorned with the countenance of mercy.

Conform no more to the ruling arrangements. Don’t go cheap for the marketer’s bribe.

Let the eyes of your soul be refocused. Let the ears of your heart be retuned. Hold onto your birthright. Hold out for more: Don’t go cheap for pleasant lies.