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Six days after Jesus’ disciples reveal, yet again, that they are clueless about the nature of messianic life—that the day is coming when all lording will cease—he takes three of them on a hilltop hike for a blinding encounter with history’s aim.

Coming down the mountain, they immediately meet a child suffering epileptic seizure.

With Peter and James and brotherly John we ascend to the mountain encounter.

With Mary, Elizabeth and sisterly Anna we stand dizzied and dazzled, sorely afraid.

Moses, Elijah—instruction and prophecy—appear in the vision so fearsomely felt.

From shadow’s abode comes the blinding reminder of Heaven’s regard for the earth’s frail restraint.

Transform and transfigure—we earnestly pray—our hard-hearted manner, our imperial stray.

From ecstatic descent into epilepsy’s reign, implore us, restore us to redemption’s domain.

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by Matthew 17:1-21.

Women: Arise, then, women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts, whether your baptism be that of water or of tears!

Men: Speak up, that all may hear!

W: Say firmly: “We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies.

M: Say it loud, say it proud!

W: Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause.

M: Oh, brothers, can you hear?

W: Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.

M: Tell it straight, sisters!

W: We women of one country will be too tender of those of another country to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.

M: Don’t hold back now—make it plain!

W: From the bosom of the devastated earth a voice goes up with our own; it says, “Disarm, disarm!”

All together: Disarm, disarm: every heart! every nation!

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Excerpted and adapted from Julia Ward Howe’s “Appeal to Womanhood Throughout the World,” September 1870, where she called for a “Mother’s Peace Day: A time for women and children to speak for the things that make for peace.” This occasion is one of three that lay claim to being the original Mother’s Day observance.

The People of Mercy, gathered round their table of bounty, demanding more.

More, more, more. We need more faith.

But the Blessed One, remembered in the grain and the grape, leaped again from the tomb of scarcity to declare:

Enough, enough, enough. You have enough faith.

Faith the size of a seed—even the tiniest mustard—is sufficient. More will come when you use what you have.

Say to every blistering threat and deadly bluff:

I’m all in. No turning back.

Lead on, O Cloud of Presence, the exodus is come.

We are not lost, though wandering. The journey is our home.

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by Luke 17:5-6 and the hymn “Lead On, O Cloud of Presence.”

Yahweh’s appointed messengers took a deep breath as they stepped from the shadows into Pharaoh’s presence. And then spoke sharply, with fire in their bellies:

Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Let my people go!

But Pharaoh was not impressed. “Get back to work you shiftless immigrants. You think you can just waltz into this country and take jobs from tax-paying citizens! You dirty greasers don’t know how good you’ve got it here!”

But the messengers of the Wetback God cried out again: Let my people go!

Which only infuriated Pharaoh more. “You ungrateful, freeloading darkies! Don’t you think you’ve had preferential treatment long enough? You got another thing comin’!

But the messengers of the Slave God were persistent: Let my people go!

By now Pharaoh was hopping-mad. “You ignorant white trash! You think you can live on welfare? You and your redneck kids ought’a be grateful the sheriff don’t run you out’a town!”

But the messengers of the Mobile Home God would not relent: Let my people go!

Pharaoh wouldn’t budge. “In fact, from now on, production is gonna speed up. Keep up or ship out!” Frustrated, the factory-line slaves started fighting each other. No one had taught them to sing together:

All sing: Ain’t gonna let nobody turn me around!

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Followed by singing of “Aint’ Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around”

“I am but a child!” you say.
“What business do you have with people of no claim,
of no clout, of no clue about the road to repentance
and the return from exile?”

Aahh, oh clueless one, of no claim and no clout,
you know not that of which you speak!
Before your mother’s maiden life, I knew you;
before your father’s toddling feet,
I planned your sinews and mapped your countenance.

O child of consecrated lips and covenant voice,
     relinquish your fear!
           You shall not be put to shame.
                 Your Refuge is secure.
It is you, oh child of destined grace,
     who will utter the Word that will shatter all enmity.

So let the nations tremble at the
     joy-filled cymbal-clapping songs
                 of redemption’s approach.

Let every wicked grip and cruelty’s grasp
     be loosed by the grammar of praise.

No scorn, no disgrace, can ever erase
           the full pleasure of Mercy’s requite.

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by Jeremiah 1:4-10 & Psalm 71.

Listen! Listen for the sound of the Beloved, Who comes leaping upon the mountains and bounding over the hills. Strain your ears for the sound of this Voice.

Listen for the Voice of our Beloved!

Behold the Beloved, standing like a gazelle behind our wall, gazing in at the windows, looking through the lattice.

Listen for the Voice of our Beloved!

Our Lover speaks to us: “Arise, oh fair ones, oh fearful ones, oh weary ones, both long-faced and cheery ones, and come away with me.”

Listen for the Voice of our Beloved!

For lo, the winter is past, the flowers push through the cold and hardened soil. The time of singing has come. The fig puts forth bloom; the veins of the vine course with life; earth’s fragrance fills the air.

Listen for the Voice of our Beloved!

In unision: O Lovely One, let me see your face, let me hear your voice. As sure as the day breathes and the shadows flee, I shall indeed arise and be joined with You, oh Lover of All Souls.

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Background to this litany, a paraphrase of Song of Solomon 2: This text is oddly placed in our seasonal calendar, since it anticipates the coming of spring, saying “the winter is past” and that “flowers appear on the earth.” We speak these praises while calling to mind our connections with people of faith in the southern hemisphere, who now are coming out of winter and anticipating the blossoms of spring.

Incline your ears, Holy Harbor of refuge.

Give shelter for every storm-tossed and wind-whipped mariner.

The great sea of discontent is unleashed against your armada of hope.

We await your approach. Linger no more!

Deep is the muck and bitter the mire. Dim grows my eyes, weary from untended tears and throats too parched to utter my anguish.

We await your visitation. Linger no more!

Shame creeps across my face as crevices of despair yawn before me.

We await your presence. Linger no more!

May the scent of our sacrificial songs of zeal for creation’s Holy Habitation, the House of the Beloved, fill the skies with the fragrance of mercy.

Let the sounds of your steps echo from the ground.

Hasten the news of your uprising favor! Resurrect in us the impulse of praise!

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by Psalm 69.

Men: Our hearts sag with sorrow when the history of such misery is unveiled.

Women: Such truthfulness comes at a cost. But worthy is the truth.

M: What good can come from such vile remembrance? Can we not safely and silently dispose of such memory?

W: No, not safely. Heaven still hears. The roots are deep. The seeds are dormant. The brutal harvest continues.

M: How then can we live with such terrible knowledge?

W: We can live because the truth unknots the cords of enmity. But first, a NO has to be spoken with clarity, a renunciation has to be made, before a YES can be asserted, before an affirmation can be announced.

M: Then let us proceed. Will you walk with us?

W: Yes, we will walk with you.

M: With the encouragement of you, our sisters, we renounce the habits of tyranny and intimidation. And we shall instruct our sons to also renounce.

W: With the encouragement of you, our brothers, we renounce any silence and complicity. And we shall instruct our daughters to undertake such risky speech.

All: Breath of Providence, Breast of Provision, be near us in the midst of terror which assaults the bond between male and female, jointly created in the image of Holy Intent.

Strengthen and sustain the work of Helpmate*. Fortify their voice. Steel their courage in the face of resistance. Enlarge their merciful embrace of all whose lives are battered and bruised and broken.

Beloved, bear witness to these promises. Confirm our repentance. Grant bold resolve from hearts humbled by Your caress. As we are endeared to You, so make us endearing to each other. Limb by limb may the healing begin, in us according to your mercy.

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. For use in a special worship service dealing with domestic violence. Inspired by Judges 19, the story of the torture and murder of the unnamed concubine—among the most brutal stories in Scripture. *Helpmate is the name of the local shelter for women and their children.

It is good and proper to give thanks to God.
And to petition these gifts of the Spirit:
Generosity, the secret of wealth.
Reverence, the secret of risk.
Trust, the secret of fearlessness.
Pardon, the secret of power.
Obedience, the secret of freedom.
Laughter, the secret of longevity.
Rest, the secret of resolve.
Humility, the secret of wisdom.
Comfort, the secret of boldness.
Lament, the secret of hope.

Transfigure our lives, O Christ.
Beckon us to that day when
all shall linger ’neath their vine
and fig tree, and none shall be afraid.
Safe, secure from all alarms.
Leaning on the everlasting arms.*

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Inspired by Micah 4:3. Last two lines from the chorus of “What a Fellowship,” Elisha A. Hoffman.

If we fill our lives with things, and again with things

If we consider ourselves so important that we must fill every moment of our lives with movement and plans and calculations

When will we have the time to greet Messengers under oak trees, as did Abram? Or overhear improbable news, like Sarah?

When will we have time to take the long, slow journey across the burning desert as did the magi in search of the heaven’s own Embodied Rule?

Or sit and watch the stars as did the shepherds; or brood over the coming of the Child as did Mary?

For each of us there is improbable news to hear; for each, births to brood; for each, deserts to travel and stars to pursue in dark silence.

Extravagance characterizes all caught up in the Promise of the coming New Heaven and New Earth. When you work, do it as if you don’t need the money; love like you’ve never been hurt; dance like no one’s watching.

Yet don’t forget, as well, to give yourself to extravagant slowness: the best food, the best fun and the best faith are never fast-paced affairs. Let the slow times roll!

©Ken Sehested @ prayerandpolitiks.org. Adapting an anonymous prayer with added lines by professional baseball player and philosopher Satchel Page.