Litanies & Prayers

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.

With haggard hearts each voice imparts this plea for constancy.

Draw near, dispel confounding fear, with Heaven’s clemency.

Each tongue, by supplicating lung, invoke bright morning’s rise!

     Call to Confession
Many of us are attracted to this place because here, in this Circle of Mercy, we find the freedom to question dogmas and orthodoxies of every kind. But not just the religious kind. There is another set of dogmas and orthodoxies which entangle our lives more than we know. Over and over our social, economic and political institutions tell us that:

    •only the strong survive
    •you get what you earn
    •friends are to be rewarded and enemies are punished.

Lent is the season for exposing these illusions; for confessing and being delivered from their power; and for learning another Way to live.

Oh, Blessed One, Beloved Abba, whose womb squeezed forth all that is, humus and human alike, animate and inanimate together, sun and moon and galaxies, without end.

Oh, Sweet Deliverer, fruit of Mary’s annunciation, troubler of worlds and troubadour of heaven’s fidelity
whose call to the table gathers the lame and binds every shame with the promise of feast
for the lost, for the least, for the last, and all willing to sing this insurrectionary song.

Oh, Wisdom of Days, breath of life in lungs of clay; pregnant promise to Sarai and Abram. Flaming visage to Moses, whisperer to prophets and confounder of priests. Answer to Hannah’s lament and Elizabeth’s regret.

Invocation and thanksgiving

Create in me a clean heart, O God.

Mercy, mercy, have mercy on me.

The Prophet Joel foretold the day when the young shall see visions and the old will dream dreams. And the writer of Hebrews implored, “Do not lose heart, for you are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses.”

Come what may, come what may: we long for a summons that calls us by name.

Be careful what you ask for—these dreams and visions could get you in trouble.

All of you with voices, sing out! All who lack melodic
     tongue, raise the roof with joyful noise! If you have
     hands, clap them. Feet, tap them. Fingers, snap them.

Let even your eyelids blink out praise to the One whose
     delight drenches earth and every creature.

When you’ve had your fill of huckster dreams and foolish
     schemes; when exhausted by self-help gurus and stock
     market voodoos; when weight loss and hair gain on
     easy monthly payments disappoint:

And what do we mean when we speak of the Lordship of Christ? Is this to say that the Holy One is the ultimate author of vengeance and retribution? Of demeaning power and humiliation?

No, a thousand times, NO! The Lordship of Christ speaks of the coming end of all lording, of the day when the cords of subjugation will unravel.

Is the Abba of Jesus simply a cruel human father writ large and limitless? Does the Power of Heaven reside in threat against any who refuse to bend the knee? Is the Creator, finally, a terrorist?