Jesus Christ, may your death be my life
and in your dying may I learn how to live.
May your struggles be my rest,
Your human weakness my courage,
Your embarrassment my honor,
Your passion my delight,
Your sadness my joy,
in your humiliation may I be exalted.
In a word, may I find all my blessings in your trials.
Amen.
Peter Faber, SJ
Hearts on Fire
Father in Heaven,
The world is not as it should be.
We are not as we could be.
Have mercy on us.
Darkness hovers over our homes.
Despair has displaced hope.
We listen to lies and illusions
That water our fears and harvest hate.
The world is not as it should be.
We are not as we could be.
Have mercy on us.
Sin has shaped our city.
Our neighbors are isolated
Without friends, without shelter, without food.
Our neighborhoods are divided
With the darkness of inequality and disparity.
The world is not as it should be.
We are not as we could be,
Have mercy on us.
Violence has stained our city’s story.
Places of light now marked with memories of death.
Evil has ended precious lives
In our schools and streets,
In our theatres and groceries
In our nightclubs and churches.
The world is not as it should be.
We are not as we could be.
Have mercy on us.
We lament the darkness and long for Your light.
May your mercy bring healing.
May your grace make us whole.
And may your love bring us at the last
To our eternal home.
Jared Ray Mackey
Lent 2023
Holy One,
there is something I wanted to tell you
but there have been errands to run,
bills to pay,
arrangements to make,
meetings to attend,
friends to entertain,
washing to do…
and I forget what it is I wanted to say to you,
and mostly I forget what I’m about,
or why.
O God,
don’t forget me, please,
for the sake of Jesus Christ….
O Father in Heaven,
perhaps you’ve already heard what I wanted to tell you.
What I wanted to ask is
forgive me,
heal me,
increase my courage, please.
Renew in me a little of love and faith,
and a sense of confidence,
and a vision of what it might mean
to live as though you were real,
and I mattered,
and everyone was sister and brother.
What I wanted to ask in my blundering way is
don’t give up on me,
don’t become too sad about me,
but laugh with me,
and try again with me,
and I will with you, too.
What I wanted to ask is
for peace enough to want and work for more,
for joy enough to share,
and for awareness that is keen enough to sense your presence
here,
now,
there,
then,
always.
Ted Loder
Guerrilas of Grace
Adapted and reprinted in Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton
It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said. No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession brings perfection. No pastoral visit brings wholeness. No program accomplishes the Church's mission. No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future that is not our own.
Amen.
This prayer was composed by Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw in November 1979 as a reflection on the anniversary of the martyrdom of Bishop Romero. The words of the prayer are commonly attributed to Oscar Romero, but they were never spoken by him.
Welcome, welcome, welcome.
I welcome everything that comes to me today
because I know it’s for my healing.
I welcome all thoughts, feelings, emotions, persons,
situations, and conditions.
I let go of my desire for power and control.
I let go of my desire for affection, esteem,
approval and pleasure.
I let go of my desire for survival and security.
I let go of my desire to change any situation,
condition, person or myself.
I open to the love and presence of God and
God’s action within.
Amen
Mary Mrozowski
creator and spiritual mother of the welcoming prayer practice
To lament is to cry out to God, naming the pain and injustice in our world, and in so doing, receiving God’s strength to work for peace.
How long, O Lord? Will you forget us forever?
How long will you hide your face from us?
How long must we wrestle with our thoughts and day after day, have sorrow in our hearts?
How long, O Lord, will injustice fill this nation?
How long, O Lord, will the poor and powerless be treated as less than human?
How long, O Lord, will Black and Brown people have to carry the burden of living a society that drowns out our cries?
Lord, from the founding of this country, to the present day, we grieve that racism has been America’s enduring sin—that racism has been a strategy of evil powers and principalities.
Lord, we grieve, that the protests and policy changes of the past have not eradicated the deep-stain of racial injustice.
Lord, we confess our anger, our deep sadness, our bewilderment, and our collective sense of weakness to see this world healed through our own strength.
Lord, we lament the way the church has often been complicit in racist behavior.
We lament the ways that the church has often turned its head, focusing on souls, to the exclusion of Black and Brown bodies.
Lord, we lament, that although we identify with the name of Jesus, we often don’t live like Jesus.
We lament that Ahmaud Arbery couldn’t go for a jog without putting his life in great danger.
We lament that Breonna Taylor couldn’t sleep peacefully in her own home, but was found to be unjustly killed in the middle of the night.
We lament that George Floyd would be callously killed by someone who was sworn to protect.
We lament that it takes millions of people to raise our voices to hold people accountable for wrongdoing and abuse of power.
Lord, we lament, that the powers of our society have often seen Black life as disposable.
So, God of justice, we call on your name.
God of righteousness, hear the words that signal our pain.
God of the oppressed, show yourself strong.
God of healing, make right everything that’s wrong.
Lord, we grieve that in this society, not everyone can breathe.
We grieve that Black men and women too often can’t breathe.
We grieve that Brown men and women too often can’t breathe.
We grieve that poor men and women too can’t breathe.
But Lord, in your kingdom, we ALL can breathe.
In your kingdom, the breath of life is for everyone.
In your kingdom, you breathe life and we come alive.
So, Lord, breathe on us.
Breathe on this nation.
Breathe on the lawmakers.
Breathe on the church.
Lord Jesus, your kingdom is good news for a world caught in racial injustice and hostility.
We ask that you would give us grace for the deep challenges facing our country.
And in the power of the Holy Spirit, empower us to see your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.
In Jesus’s name. Amen.
Rich Villodas is the Lead Pastor at New Life Fellowship in Queens, NY. He offered this prayer of lament in front of the Queens Criminal Courthouse in New York City prior to a two-mile protest march.
Glory be to the Father,
And to the Son,
And to the Holy Ghost;
As it was in the beginning,
Is now,
And forever shall be:
World without end.
Amen.
Come, let us raise a joyful song,
a shout of triumph to the rock of our salvation.
Let us come into Your presence with thanksgiving,
singing songs of triumph.
For You are a great God, a great king over all gods.
The depths of the earth are in Your hands; mountains belong to You.
The sea is Yours, for You made it;
and the dry land Your hands fashioned.
Let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the One who made us.
For You are our God, and we are the flock that You shepherd.
We will know Your power and presence this day,
if we will but listen for Your voice.
VENITE
Psalm 95
Blessed be God, who has turned to His people and saved us and set us free.
You have raised up for us a strong deliverer, and so You promised:
Age after age You proclaimed by the lips of Your holy prophets,
that You would deliver us, calling to mind Your solemn covenant.
This was the promise that You made: To rescue us and free us from fear,
so that we might worship You with a holy worship,
in Your holy presence our whole life long.
In Your tender compassion, the morning sun has risen upon us –
to shine on us in our darkness, to guide our feet into the paths of peace.
Benedictus
Zechariah’s Prayer from Luke 1
Grant Lord,
that I my know myself,
that I may know thee.
St. Augustine
Who are you?
Who am I?
St. Francis of Assisi
St. Francis of Assisi would often go away to pray.
When he would return people would ask him, “Francis, what did you pray?”
This was his reply.