Category Archives: Prayer

Walking Through Holy Week

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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

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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

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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

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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

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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,

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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.

My Prayer

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I arise today (I bind unto myself this day)
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In the obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of the patriarchs,
In the predictions of prophets,
In the preaching of apostles,
In the faith of confessors,
In the innocence of holy virgins,
In the deeds of righteous men.
Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, Third stanza
(For complete prayer, click Lent 2016: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate)

My God,

May I have the eyes of a child and a heart full of ancient wisdom – both necessary to see your cherubim, angels, and archangels

May I remember that resurrection is your way with all things, now and forever, meeting me here and now; resurrection is its own reward

May my life answer to the prayers of the patriarchs, not reject them

May the prophets’ words bless me with compassion for anyone in need and the strength to help them even at my own cost

May my words about Jesus be truthful and plain

May faith infuse my every thought

May I value innocent trust over worldly mistrust

Whoever I am, whatever I do, keep me in your love. Sinful and righteous, there is no life for me beyond you.

Amen.

Strength, obedience, service

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I arise today (I bind unto myself this day)

Through the strength of the love of cherubim,

In the obedience of angels,

In the service of archangels,

In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

In the prayers of the patriarchs,

In the predictions of prophets,

In the preaching of apostles,

In the faith of confessors,

In the innocence of holy virgins,

In the deeds of righteous men.

Saint Patrick’s Breastplate, Third stanza (For complete prayer, click Lent 2016: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate)

 

I don’t bind unto myself or arise through strength or in obedience and service in general: I do so through the strength of the love of cherubim, in the obedience of angels, and in the service of archangels. Strength, obedience, and service to all that is holy and compassionate can transform the world, bringing creation closer to the heart of God. Strength, obedience, and service to anything less can break the spirit and bring devastation to the universe. I must be careful what I bind unto myself and what gives me the strength to arise.

Cherubim, angels, and archangels live before God and for God. They see and serve the Mystery of the Creator and Sustainer. If I ever encounter one, I’ll be frightened by my own helplessness in the presence of such power (I’ll definitely need a “fear not”). But they come from the God who loves me and will not harm me. Instead of annihilation from such strength, obedience, and service, I arise because of it.

But I don’t live before and for God with my whole self. I am capable, willing even, to seek partial power for myself rather than rest in the holiness of God. I seek my own good at the expense of others. I cannot wish good things for my enemies, or even my friends, unless the love of God surrounds me.

But I dare to arise because others have arisen. Not completely, not without mistakes, but arisen nonetheless: patriarchs, prophets, apostles, confessors, holy virgins, and righteous men who dared to live in and for God’s love.

Now, it’s my turn.

 

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Ash Wednesday: Saint Patrick’s Breastplate

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I arise today 


Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,


Through belief in the Threeness,


Through confession of the Oneness


of the Creator of creation.

The wonder-full arising – a daily blessing, miracle even, when I arise with God’s mighty strength. When I praise God for this day with my first breath upon awakening, the Creator of creation is known to me;

the one who became like you and me, who walked through History with dusty feet and showed us the Way, cementing salvation in our souls, is known to me; the one who is in me, nearer than hands and feet, closer than that first awakening breath, whose presence is real when I am truly awake, is known to me.

I have called these realities the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit but they are the One. Whatever I say about God the Father – omnipresent, eternal, loving – can be said of Jesus and the Spirit. What a great God we serve who has pulled out all the stops to be known in this moment of awakening.

May I be truly engaged this first day of Lent, this Ash Wednesday, in this Presence – and throughout these 40 days be tuned in to the Frequency that is my life.

Offered by Bill Albritton, teacher, leader, follower of Christ.

 

 

 

Brilliant Light, Gathering Darkness

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Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Matthew 17:1-2, NRSV

The season of Epiphany ends here on this mountaintop. The disciples see Jesus shining like the sun, and they are nearly blinded by the light. But this isn’t a story about Jesus having a supernatural transformation: he didn’t change on that mountain, the disciples did. Their blindness fell away and they saw Jesus as he always was: divine and human.

This is one of my favorite passages in the New Testament. It says something about who Jesus is (God’s son, real person), and something about who I am – capable of seeing the glory of God in this life and equally capable of closing my eyes to it in willful blindness. Even when I see the glory of God, I am as likely to misunderstand its meaning in my life as Peter did just a few short verses later. The glory of God is more than a brilliant light burning on a mountaintop. This light is the living, breathing, love of God who will leave the heights to bring light and hope to the darkest of places.

The shadows are darkening, and the road to Jerusalem beckons. The brilliance of this mountaintop transfiguration will shine into resurrection. But the days in between are dark, and I am afraid. I would not dare to walk this road alone. But I walk with all the faithful who have ever lived. Like Saint Patrick did when in danger, I will arise to walk the road, and I will bind unto myself the strength of God. I will dare to follow Jesus on this Lenten road…

[Note: A different part of Saint Patrick’s Breastplate will be the focus for each week of Lent. To read the full prayer, click Lent 2016:Saint Patrick’s Breastplate at the top of the page. Background information on the prayer and resources for further study can be found by clicking About Saint Patrick’s Breastplate.]