Category Archives: Prayer

With, not For

You are always doing great and inscrutable things with us, glorious and wonderful, and without number.

I am aware of glorious and wonderful things that God does for me every morning I wake up to family and friends, every afternoon I work in the garden, every evening when the stars shine in heaven above. But with us isn’t the same thing as for us. I’m sure God is always doing great and inscrutable things with me/us, but usually I don’t look for them. With means working together, not one giving and the other getting. With means cooperation and taking responsibility, perhaps even partial credit, for the innumerable wonders that come into the world through us/God with us.

This is the second line of this 1600 year old prayer, and the second one that’s shaken me. If I take it seriously, if I really pray these words, there is no going back. I’ll see the great and inscrutable things God is doing with us in people I love and people I don’t even like. Not just a few things I can count on one hand (exceptions), but so many that they are without number (commonplace).

Lord, give me courage to pray these revolutionary words.
Prayer of Saint Basil
We bless you, O God, most high and Lord of mercy. You are always doing great and inscrutable things with us, glorious and wonderful, and without number. You grant us sleep for rest from our infirmities, and repose from the burdens of our much toiling flesh. We thank you, for you have not destroyed us with our sins, but have continued to love us; and though we were sunk in despair, you have raised us up to glorify your power. Therefore, we implore your incomparable goodness. Enlighten the eyes of our understanding and raise up our minds from the heavy sleep of indolence. Open our mouth and fill it with your praise, that we may be able without distraction to sing and confess that you are God, glorified in all and by all, the eternal Father, with your only begotten Son, and your all holy, good, and life giving Spirit, now and forever and to the ages of ages. Amen.
[Daily Prayers for Orthodox Christians (Brookline, Massachusetts: The Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 1986), pp. 9-10]

Prayer of Saint Basil: Bless You!

Bless You!

We bless you, O God, most high and Lord of mercy.

When my niece Jill was a few months old, well before she could walk or talk, she used to do something that I’ve never forgotten. When I held her on my shoulder, she would reach her hand up to pat me on the back. The kindness in her simple act of extending a comforting hand moved me to tears many times – giving back a loving touch she received so often from me and many others. It’s a blessed memory I’ve treasured for almost thirty years.

I’ve never blessed God before. I’ve always been on the receiving end. After all, what good could my blessing do? But I think I’ll say these words, anyway. If God is as touched as I was by Jill’s gesture, it would be a blessing indeed.

To read the whole prayer, click on Prayer of Saint Basil.

A New Mother’s Day

For the first Mother’s Day in fifty-five years, my mother won’t get a card or flowers from my father. She won’t join him at the kitchen table for an early morning coffee, and they won’t watch birds and squirrels run around the yard from the back porch. For the first time, my mother is a widowed mother of four instead of a married mother of four. The story of her life has a loss that wasn’t there last year.

I will do the usual Mother’s Day things this Sunday: send my mother something, call her and my sister to wish them a wonderful day, and spend time with my two sons and husband, Dave. As is our tradition, I will pick dinner and dessert. I will relax while my sons set the table and Dave makes the meal. We will enjoy an hour over good food, and I will open cards and presents. As always, I will be surprised and touched by what each of my sons and my husband chose for me. Later, I’ll say a prayer of thanks for the family I was born into and the one that grew out of my marriage.

Next year, my older son won’t be home from college in time for Mother’s Day. In five years, my younger son may be living too far away to come home for a weekend in May. It will be a new chapter in my life story – something my husband, sons, and I will live into as we turn the page of our current one.

Who knows when, I’ll wake up on Mother’s Day without my husband, or he’ll wake up without me – a first after years of marriage. One of us will grieve and remember the past; the other will already be in the unknown adventure beyond this blessed life.

Love brings joy and it brings grief. New life enters families and so does death. But this I know for certain: there hasn’t been a single day in my mother’s life that she hasn’t been loved. I’ve been loved in every hour of my life. There hasn’t been a single moment in my children’s lives that they weren’t loved. With all the love surrounding each one of us, surely what comes as we journey through death into the cosmic book of life will be blessed beyond understanding.

Blessings for all mothers, blessings for all daughters and sons. Amen.

Supplication or Reminder?

Christ with me, Christ before me,

Christ behind me, Christ in me,

Christ beneath me, Christ above me,

Christ on my right, Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,

Christ in the heart of every man (one) who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,

Christ in every eye that sees me,

Christ in every ear that hears me.

Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, part 7 (for full poem, click Lent 2016: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate)

Holy God,

When storms rage and enemies surround me, when I am powerless and facing danger, these words comfort me. Christ is everywhere around me and in me, in the molecules of the entire universe and in my very DNA. No matter what comes, I am not alone and I am never lost to you. You hear my prayer for help.

When I am safe, when I have the power to destroy or sustain, these words remind me: Christ is everywhere around me and in me, in the fabric of the cosmos and the DNA of all living creatures. Whatever I do, whatever I refrain from doing, I do to the Christ in the heart of all that is. In this Holy week, in the shadow of the cross, may I refrain from harming your Spirit in others. Remind me of who I am. Remind me that you are I AM.

Let It Be.

Walking Through Holy Week

Christ with me,

I can’t walk from palms to cross to empty tomb without you

Christ before me,

marking my trail

Christ behind me,

so I won’t turn back

Christ in me,

my best, truest self

Christ beneath me,

the solid ground, the sacred path

Christ above me,

invisible and infinite

Christ on my right,

in the eyes of my sons

Christ on my left,

in the embrace of friends

Christ when I lie down,

blessing my sleep

Christ when I sit down,

in the food on my table, in the words I read and write

Christ when I arise,

grant me to greet the new day with hope

Christ in the heart of every man (one) who thinks of me,

that my faults cause no harm

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,

that their words of me are true

Christ in every eye that sees me,

imperfect and loved

Christ in every ear that hears me.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be

acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my salvation.

Amen.IMG_7346

photograph by Jared Fredrickson, seeker of nature’s beauty, seeker of God.

Its Own Reward

I summon today,

All these powers between me and those evils,

 Against every cruel and merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,                

Against incantations of false prophets,

Against black laws of pagandom,

Against false laws of heretics,

Against craft of idolatry,

Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,

Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul;

Christ to shield me today

Against poison, against burning,

Against drowning, against wounding,

So that there may come to me an abundance of reward.

Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, part 6 (For full poem, click Lent 2016: St. Patrick’s Breastplate above)

I don’t summon armies or guns. I don’t ask for a tank or razor wire. I summon heaven, sun, moon, sea, and rock. I summon the love of the cherubim and the prayers of the patriarchs. I bind unto myself God’s wisdom, eye, ear, word, and hand. These I place between me and all the evils I can imagine – all the things I fear.

Even if they can protect my body momentarily, weapons cannot protect me from what I fear. What damages or takes life, what brings fear into the lives of other living creatures, none of it can save me from fear. Only things that give life and love do that, and it is these that stand between me and the evils of this world – the evils others imagine and create, and the evils I imagine and create.

Through the eyes of fear I see only threat and danger under the stars. I cannot see the beauty of this world or the grace of living in it. I am afraid of the neighbors beyond my locked door because they might mean me harm. I see nothing else.

There is evil in the world. There is evil in me. Fear fosters it in both places. So I place the goodness of creation and the God who created it between me and those evils. I ask Christ to shield me, to give me the strength to see the world through the eyes of love. To see through the eyes of God. They are the same.

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. We love because he first loved us. Those who say, “I love God,” and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or a sister whom they have seen, cannot love God who they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also. I John 4: 18-21, NRSV

Photo on 2015-02-28 at 09.24

Lent, week 6: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate

I summon today


All these powers between me and those evils,


Against every cruel and merciless power 
that may oppose my body and soul

,
Against incantations of false prophets,


Against black laws of pagandom,


Against false laws of heretics,


Against craft of idolatry,


Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,


Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul;


Christ to shield me today


Against poison, against burning,


Against drowning, against wounding,


So that there may come to me an abundance of reward.

As a young reader I loved fantasy books. The epic tales featured noble and brave young people who were enmeshed in the battle between Good and Evil: The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, The Lord of the Rings, and Star Wars. Though the battles were difficult, they were always so clear which side was right and which was wrong. And God, the Force, the Truth, was always with the hero.

As an adult I gradually learned that things weren’t so clear and that evil often arises out of good intentions or understandable fears and sometimes from the history and present of our beloved Christian church.

To summon protection from evil as we pray this section of the St. Patrick’s prayer seems to be a much more difficult task. I look at the war in Syria that drags on and on and on. I see evil in the indiscriminate bombing of civilians and leaving people to starve in villages laid seige. But is evil also in the people traffickers who lead refugees to die in rickety boats and washed up on Greek beaches? Is evil to be found in countries refusing to take in refugees or those who refuse to help fund the cost for their care? How do I pray for protection from this?

If I choose to live in the world, to really listen and learn and live an examined life, I open myself up to truly seeing evil that may oppose my body and soul. And equally, to understand the evil I may unwittingly or reluctantly participate in as part of a larger society, nation, or my particular gender or race that opposes or oppresses others.

The political primary process that daily comes to us in the form of 30 second bursts seems very much to be about the challenge of evil. Is evil “out there” such that we can wall it off or regulate it away? Or is evil within our nation in entrenched income equality and institutional racism? Politicians rise up as prophets speaking incantations that promise change and protection in exchange for our vote.

But I believe to be protected against evil requires more from us than that. Lent is an opportunity to decide to be clear-eyed and fearlessly seek the truth. Praying for protection from idolatry necessitates understanding that what we hold so dear blinds us to others – whether money, power, security, nostalgia… As we learn about the world and about ourselves, we will be challenged to change. Change is undeniably hard. But with our sights set on God and Jesus’ commandment to love neighbor as self, it is harder to choose the path of evil or not stand up against the inertia of evil.

I hope the abundance of reward we pray for is more peace in our times, and more peace in our minds. And the blessings that come with seeking those difficult and uncomfortable truths and seeing them through to the place of justice and grace.

Offered by Karen Gale, farmer, mother, seeker of God.

Ill Wishes

I arise today, through

God’s strength to pilot me,

God’s might to uphold me, God’s wisdom to guide me,

God’s eye to look before me,

God’s ear to hear me,

God’s word to speak for me,

God’s hand to guard me,

God’s shield to protect me,

God’s host to save me

       From snares of devils,

      From temptation of vices,

      From everyone who shall wish me ill, afar and anear.

Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, part 5 (click Lent 2016: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate for the whole prayer)

Clenched fists, tight shoulders, narrowed eyes, pursed lips, angry tone and words – not a child having a tantrum, but a woman in her seventies I barely knew. She wanted to make money where she served as a trustee, ethically questionable as well as against trustee policy. As a fellow trustee, I objected. That was seven years ago. I’ve rarely seen her since, and barely given her a thought until the last few words of this poem brought her to mind.

I have no idea if she’s wishing me ill afar as she did once anear. I haven’t wished her ill, afar or anear, now or then. I opposed her. Did I stop her from doing something wrong and potentially harmful? Yes. Did I do something wrong and cause her harm? I’m sure she thinks so.

Lack of ill wishes isn’t much of an accomplishment on my part. Perhaps that’s the best I can do on my own. Beyond that, it takes an act of God in and through me. Perhaps my prayers should be two-fold:

God save me from those who wish me ill. God save others from my indifference.

Lent 2016, Week Five: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate

I arise today,

through
God’s strength to pilot me,


God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,


God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,


God’s word to speak for me,


God’s hand to guard me,


God’s shield to protect me,


God’s host to save me


From snares of devils,


From temptation of vices,

From everyone who shall wish me ill,


afar and near.

 

It is a song of praise to God for all God is and does. And well it should be.

But to understand the depth of praise we need to start with ourselves. To look inside. To look inside deeply. To see deeply. Only then, when we see ourselves deeply, can we understand the depth of praise expressed in these words.

When we look deeply we can begin to see. The uncertainty about life that requires a pilot. The weakness of spirit that requires upholding. The straying from who we truly are that requires a guide. The blindness to the pain of others that requires new eyes. The deafness to the cries of the oppressed that requires new ears. The silence in the face of injustice that requires a new mouth. The danger to life and love we help create that requires a guard. The foolishness of our egos that requires protection. All the ways we are lost that require saving from that which seduces and tempts us, from those who wish us ill.

This kind of looking within is not easy. It means seeing things in ourselves we would rather not see. It inevitably leads to struggle and perhaps even suffering.

But this kind of looking is the only way to new life. It is the dying that makes resurrection possible.

We cannot do it – not even think about doing it – unless we have faith. Faith that when we arise today and every day we will be upheld by the strength, might and wisdom of God. And that in all we are about God’s eye, ear, mouth, hand and shield will offer us whatever it is we need to face whatever it is we see.

And then through the grace and mercy of God these words of praise touch the depth of our being and we know life that is both abundant and full.

Offered by Jeff Jones, pastor, writer, follower of Jesus.

Worth Thousands of Words

May today’s offering of images enrich your soul and provide a glimpse of the creation that God loves so much. 

I arise today, through the strength of heaven,

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The light of the sun, the radiance of the moon

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The splendor of fire, the speed of lightning,

adventwreath2

The swiftness of wind, the depth of the sea,

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The stability of earth, the firmness of rock.

IMG_7346

 

Photographs taken and offered by Jared Fredrickson, learner, builder, seeker of God.