Category: prayer

A Christmas Prayer

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

God, make me more like Mary. So simply radiant in her reply to Your news.

So confident in what You can do, what You will do through her,

to bring forth love into the world.

So faithful to the invitation.

Let me believe as she believed.

And more like the shepherds, attentive to the vulnerable,

my life’s purpose to care.

Teach me to be still,

to acknowledge there are angels in the night sky

and to be as fearless as they were to run and see what they were told,

to leave my place and bear witness to miracles both on earth and above it.

Let me know when an angel calls.

God, let me be like them too, the angels with a song that will not be contained,

joy filling my heart until it spills out in music and laughter.

To be willing to keep telling the news, the good news, the life-affirming news,

God is right here! God is among us!

Let me share the message of hope.

And finally there are the wise men, people. I’d say.

Make me more like them, unwilling to put aside what I know to be true,

to put it all the line and journey the path of stardust because I must.

Because I cannot not go.

Help me to be willing to do whatever is necessary to find the truth,

even if it requires leaving comfort and familiarity,

to bring gifts because I will recognize goodness when I see it.

Let me go where I am led to go.

On this Christmas, O God,

open my heart to Your messages,

my spirit to Your call.

Let me find what You have made possible,

and honor Your miracles of Love.

All Shall Be Well: “While We Are Waiting, Come” 

Rev. Deb Beloved Church 

“While we are waiting, come; while we are waiting, come.
Jesus, our Lord, Emmanuel, while we are waiting, come.”

“With power and glory, come; with power and glory, come.
Jesus, our Lord, Emmanuel, while we are waiting, come.”

“Come, Savior, quickly come; come, Savior, quickly come.
Jesus, our Lord, Emmanuel, while we are waiting, come.”

These are the lyrics of an Advent hymn (entitled, appropriately, “While We Are Waiting, Come”) that we’ve been singing at White Rock Presbyterian Church, during these weeks of Advent, as a prayer before the scripture lessons for the day are read and the sermon, preached. [Click here to hear it sung by the Morgan State University Choir.] 

It seems to encapsulate a lovely prayer for Advent:  

Come to us, Lord Jesus, while we are waiting for the celebration of your birth. Come with power and glory and be with us. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and save us. Amen! 

During Advent, it is my prayer that God will indeed come to us while we are waiting–waiting during this holy season for the God who has already come, to come to us yet again…waiting in stolen moments of stillness and longing, alone and with one another, for glimpses of healing and wholeness…waiting in the midst of this world so busy and angry and loud and hurting, for whispers of peace and shimmers of Light…  

While we are waiting, Lord Jesus, come… 

During Advent, it is my prayer that God will indeed come to us with power and glory–power that stirs hope and courage within us…glory that moves us to awe and wonder…power and glory that wake us from our mindless stumbling through our lives to alertness and awakeness…glory and power that call us to be on the lookout for prophetic truth and deep beauty and redeeming love…  

While we are waiting, Lord Jesus, come… 

During Advent, it is my prayer that God will indeed come to us quickly–that God will save us from our comfort with complacency–quickly! That God will save us from our familiar temptations–quickly! That God will save us from our hardness of heart and our secret smugness and superiority–quickly! That God will save us from our blindness (whether chosen or unconsidered) to the Reality of all that is Holy, all around us, and within all of us–quickly.  

While we are waiting, Lord Jesus, come… 

Come to us, Lord Jesus, while we are waiting for the celebration of your birth. Come with power and glory and be with us. Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and save us. Amen! 

It’s a lovely prayer for Advent for us who are people of faith.  

Indeed, it seems a prayer of Love for all seasons, and for all people. 

May the witness of Jesus the Christ, in whom we see what it can be to live and love, teach and touch, laugh and cry, bless and curse, heal and pray, fully embodying the Divine Love that is God–call us all to greater courage, greater truth, greater wholeness, and greater Love, in our lives and in our world. It is so desperately needed. 

Merry Christmas! 

And amen. 

The Owls, The Holy One, and Me

by Jane Jones

(A prayer for anyone who feels sadness at this time)

As I write this (in the pre-dawn of a wintery day), I hear the dialogue of two owls close to my home; two different voices, quietly calling back and forth.  What a blessing, to be in a space where this is even possible!

I’m grateful for my home and what it brings to me in terms of peacefulness and escape from the outside world where the busy-ness abounds, and where some of my former life remains without me.

I need to keep reminding myself that I’m in a good place…that being on my own isn’t horrible…that I’m loved and included, if not by a family that once filled my life with joy, then by many dear, generous (and patient!) friends who know me well – and love me anyhow.  That, too, is a major blessing…a blessing I need to remember and be thankful for.

This is the holiday season, and, as it does for so many others,  it has again brought me deep sadness that I’m struggling with.

All the ugly questions (why, why, why???) pop into my head randomly while the Christmas music in the stores offers triggers galore, and my head and heart are more than willing to respond to them.  I step in-and-out of a dark space where much about this time hurts me, and my first instinct is to hide in this funny little house and tell all these days of “joy” to move on.  They aren’t listening; these days don’t seem to fly by like the less-focused, supposedly “lazy days” of summer do.

So, in the darkness of predawn as my owl friends call to one another, I call out to You, Holy One.

I lie in my bed and pray to the overhead fan, knowing that you’re there, waiting to hear me. Often, there are tears to remind me that this time of remembering can cleanse my soul…sometimes, I even laugh when I think of something I said or did that was just so dumb. 

But mostly, I pray for Peace, for my own heart and for so many other hearts who are not loving this time of year. 

I pray for Peace, for anyone who needs a little glimpse of It this day – any day. 

I pray for Peace, for a world full of people who are in much worse life-space than I am. 

And I pray for Peace-full acts, that those who lead will consider consequences to the innocent, living in way too many horrible circumstances beyond my control or understanding. 

I pray to You, Holy One, and we share my dark heart, my dark bedroom and a welcoming, dark silence of prayer, knowing that later, you will show yourself to me in little ways.  You always do.

So, like the owls calling to one another, I wait for your response, and I crawl out of bed to begin the day again – with Hope, with more inner Peace, with Love.

Thanks.

A Prayer for Today

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

God, the Great Creator, You may know the plans for us but we do not. We try to focus on what you have done throughout history. How you have brought us strength and courage for the difficult times, how you have been present to us, faithful throughout all our wars and battles, a mother hen, a shepherd, a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire at night; but being completely honest, Holy One, it is hard to think of a future with anything but sorrow. The fights between enemies seem long and never-ending. The struggles feel complicated and rife with old pain. The weapons are deadlier, the costs higher, the consequences more dire.

We cry out for peace. We beg for the harm to cease. We pray. We light candles. We preach. We prophesy. We reach out. We weep. And we look ahead to the days before us, the tanks along the border, the rockets filling the skies, the anger growing, the death count rising, the blame shifting; and we imagine the worst. We fear what we will now ultimately and finally do to each other.

On this day we pray for those most affected by the violence. We pray for the children hiding in fear, the grieving mothers, the old ones begging to die, the young vowing revenge. We pray for the leaders of all nations to be wise and guided by courage and humility. We pray for those trying to breach the gap between those who hate each other. We pray that people of all faiths and those without, for people across the world, different and yet the same, for all of your children to see this as an opportunity to come together and say, “Let us begin again. Let us stop the killing, the destruction. Let us find a way to peace. Let us believe in a future with hope.”

Merciful God, help us to stop the violence building in our hearts, to see goodness in each other even when it seems impossible. Help us to put down our weapons and words of hatefulness and anger and pick up bread to share with the ones before us. Help us to open our clenched fists and receive your blessings that await us when we surrender. Help us to release the despair and have our hearts filled with hope. For today. For tomorrow. For a future we all desire. We look to you, The One Great Source of Love.

Amen.

Comfort prayer for a friend

by Rev. Deb Church

Our Father who art in Heaven—
and who is with us, wherever we are…

…hallowed be thy name.
Your name, O God, is holy
and rests in our hearts
and on our tongues
sometimes like honey
sometimes like vinegar
sometimes a blessing
sometimes more like a curse
sometimes coming out in a song of praise
sometimes, escaping in a groan from the depths of our souls
But always, O God, holy is your name…

…Thy kingdom come—
in all the places
and in all the spaces
we are.
Come, healing and wholeness
Come, truth and justice
Come, forgiveness and belonging
Come, mercy and grace
Come, peace and hope
Come, love and Beloved
Come, Reality and Reign of God…

…Thy will be done—
as we trust in you
with hearts soaring
and hearts breaking
anxious and angry
grieving and confused,
as we place our loved ones
and our lives
in your strong and gentle hands,
letting go of control
holding on to hope
letting go of outcomes
holding on with trust
letting go of fear
holding on in Love…

…on earth as it is in heaven—
right here
in the middle of the muck
and mess
as we journey
from dust back to dust
embodied Spirit
walking around in
these bodies
clay pots
cracked
beautiful
broken
whole
Holiness
found right here
in the middle of the muck
and mess
of our world…

Give us this day—
today
now
in these moments
in this moment…

…our daily bread—
what will feed us
what will nourish us
what we need
in these moments
whether we
know it
recognize it
see it
feel it
or not…

…and forgive us our sins—
Forgive us, O God.
Forgive us
for our messiness
for our mistakes
Forgive us
for the hurt we inflict
without wanting to
and for hurt we long to inflict
that all comes from
the hurt we’ve received
Forgive us
for the hurt we cause
that we don’t know and
for the hurt we cause
because we don’t know
our woundedness
Forgive us, O God…

…as we forgive those who sin against us—
as we look with compassion
at those who hurt us
out of their hurt
as we look with tenderness
at those who hate us
having made us bearers
of the hate they feel
for themselves and cannot name
As we offer mercy
that we have received
to those who deserve it no more than we do
who deserve it no less than we do
Forgive us our sins, O God, with the same freedom
with which we forgive
or not
those who sin against us…

…and lead us not into temptation—
Keep us from going down
easy paths
of self-pity
well-worn paths
of shame and blame
familiar paths
of regret and guilt
paths that are so easy to follow
paths that take us
to no place good…

…but deliver us from evil—
and instead
into Hope
into Healing
into Peace
into Joy
into Love…

…for thine
is the kingdom
and the power
and the glory
forever—
And ever.
And ever.
And ever.
Always.
No matter what.
Amen.
And amen.

From Deb: Here’s something I wrote last night…as a prayer for a dear friend whose husband (who is also a dear friend) was near death. They are both members of my church, and I love them dearly. They’ve been in California for the last several months, while he was receiving treatment for his cancer. He died this morning… I hope and pray that something in this “fleshed out” version of the Lord’s Prayer gave his wife some bit of comfort last night, or perhaps will at some point in the future.

Behold Beauty

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

“I want you to ask him why I’m still here.” That’s what the ninety-three year old told me to pray. “You ask God why I’m still here.”

“Okay,” I respond. I will do that.

The existential dilemma from this patient is not new information to me. He was quite forthright the first time we met. “I’m tired,” he told me. “My wife is dead. I can’t drive. I don’t want to be here anymore. What use am I?”

I fell for it, of course. Filling the void with possibilities of meaning and purpose for a man well beyond years of productivity and masculine vitality. I reminded him of his place in the family, the wisdom he might share, the role he still plays as elder, as war veteran, as great grandfather.

He waved it all away at that first visit; so I didn’t bring those possibilities up again. Not this time. I just said, “Okay, I’ll ask God for you.”

And I did.

I have.

And for a few days God was as withholding to me as he apparently had been for this old man. And then one day God spoke. And I was listening. And now I will tell this patient what I heard.

Our purpose, whether we are three or ninety-three, thirty, forty, or fifty-five is to acknowledge beauty, to pay attention when it shows itself and to honor it. To see it in the ribbon of color that flashes across the sky or the perfect flake of snow as it falls, the light at dawn, the shape of the mountain at dusk, the bright morning star. Sounds of cranes rising from shallow water, a child’s laughter, the rustling of dry leaves stirred by a late day’s breeze.

The taste of a ripe berry, as sweet as you ever remember. The touch of a beloved, hand on hand. The smell of roasting chiles.

Surely, we are designed for greatness, for selfless acts of generosity and heroic measures of sacrifice. Surely, we are meant to push and pull against what limits us or defines us and create music and art and build bridges and solve complex problems and be quick and smart and relevant.

But even when we are none of those things, even when we cannot run or hold a thought or speak in long complete sentences and be witty and charming and dependent on no one but ourselves, we can still mark what is perfect and bold and right.

“Behold and honor beauty,” I will tell him. “That is why you are still here.” And then I will take his hand and walk with him outside.

The Art of Blessing

by Rev. Lynne Hinton

One Sunday at church a parishioner brought me a ball cap with her favorite NASCAR racer’s name embroidered on it. She wanted me to bless it because she was worried about the driver. She was only teasing and I simply heard her story and held the hat for a second. I didn’t so much try to ease her concerns with a prayer as I did listen to her, but her request did remind me of the real reason I love being a pastor.

If I were to explain why I most enjoy being an ordained minister, it wouldn’t be the preaching or the administrative responsibilities; it wouldn’t be the pastoral visits to the hospitals or nursing homes or the teaching of scriptures. I enjoy being a pastor because I love being called upon to bless things.

In the more than 25 years since my ordination into professional ministry, I have been called upon to bless lots of things and all kinds of events. I have blessed marriages and unions, meetings of the many and the few, animals of all shapes and sizes, life arriving and life passing, houses, doorways, and even a porch swing for a hospice patient afraid of some evil spirit that hovered near. I have blessed barren fields in winter and bountiful summer harvests, rain and sun, honorable choices to leave and to stay, foreheads on Ash Wednesdays, mended hearts, surgeries and the healing of every kind of disease and discontent. I have touched fevered brows and small cherub cheeks, skinned knees and burdened backs. I have blessed cookies and milk, pots of green chile stew, and long tables filled with casseroles, Jell-O salads, barbeque, fried chicken, and a variety of frosted cakes. And in all that time, it has always been my deepest pleasure to lead a person or a gathering into the consideration of being blessed.

I don’t bless because I think I am more qualified than anyone else to pray over potluck suppers, community gatherings, or crying babies. I do not consider myself more special or more knowledgeable than anyone else. In fact, much of the time, when I am called upon for a blessing I glance around the room and find many others who could do and have done a better job than I. But blessing stuff comes with the territory when you are a minister. Just as we look to the nurse or doctor to step in when someone faints or we look to a teenager for help with the computer, just as we ask the mechanic for tips on engine maintenance for our automobiles, we expect the minister to bless us.

The American Heritage Dictionary defines blessing as “an expression of good wishes. A special favor granted by God,” and “anything contributing to happiness.” I think of a blessing as simply calling attention to that which is wonderful, to a person or event or animal or memory or dream that makes us smile. To be blessed is to acknowledge that even if everything around us is empty, we are able to see that actually our cups are running over. It is to stop everyone from brushing aside life. It is to keep us from missing the splendid. It is to say, “hey, wait a minute, this is fabulous life happening here! This is a moment you will want to remember! This, for all its ordinariness, this is sacred. This is blessed.”

I didn’t ask for favor on my parishioner’s favorite racecar driver when I took the hat from her, but I did smile and thank God that she has something in her life that brings her delight, something that connects her to the world, something that engages and pleases her. The fact that she has found a little pleasure is in itself a great blessing. And I am the fortunate one who gets asked to call attention to it.

I think I’m a little strange…

by Rev. Deb Worley

“Let us now confess our sin…” 

This is from [the 3/13/2022] worship service, as the introduction to our time of confession. I think this time each week is so important, so critical, so potentially powerful! I love it. For myself. And for our community. And yes, I know–I’m a little strange that way… But bear with me. I think there’s a chance you just might come to love it, too…

“I know we’re just a little ways into our worship this morning, but I’m going to do a quick review. So far I and we have said the following words:
‘Grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus Christ!’
‘God is good, all the time!’
‘…with God on my side I’m fearless, afraid of no one and nothing.’
Whether it’s because we are in Lent, or because of what’s going on in the world, or because of other things that are stirring in my soul, I find myself asking myself (and not for the first time!), do those words –Grace…peace…God-is-good…fearless–really mean anything?

And then I answer myself, Of course they do.

But then I wonder, what? What do they really mean? How do they really affect my day-to-day life? Because they have to. They have to.

At the core of my identity is that I am a person of faith, a beloved child of God. Those words have to make a difference in the living of my life. Or they are just words….

And they are not just words—grace…peace…God-is-good…fearless—they are powerful truths about the Reality of God, the Kingdom of God, the Possibilities of God!

And as I, and we, live into the reality of these truths, as we live more and more out of these truths, I have to believe that the Kingdom of God will grow. Bit by tiny bit, moment by singular moment, interaction by individual interaction. But it will grow…

One part of that process of living into the reality of those truths–just one part—but it’s a significant part—is owning our sin. Yep, that’s another word that’s not just a word but a powerful truth—sin.

And unlike “grace” and “peace” and “Good-is-good!” it’s one we don’t like to think or talk about much.

But our not-thinking-or-talking-about-it-much—or at least the depth of the reality of it—is, I am convinced, part of what keeps us from living more deeply into God’s grace and peace and goodness!

Our reluctance to admit those things with which we struggle, those things around which we feel shame, those things for which we have either stepped deliberately off or fallen accidentally off the path of love and healing—all of those things that keep us distant from one another, from our true selves, from God—our reluctance to acknowledge, to admit, to confess those things is part of what keeps things like “grace” and “peace” and the goodness of God as simply nice words rather than deeply profound truths.

Our reluctance to consider the truth and power of our sin, both individually and corporately, is part of what keeps us from accessing and living into the truth and power of God’s grace and peace and goodness.

So(!)…now’s our chance. A chance. A chance to get real about our sin. In these moments, we have a chance to ‘fess up, to God and to ourselves—and in a few moments, to and with one another—our mistakes, our failings, our screw-ups. Our struggles, our secrets, our shame. Or even just one of those, if that’s where you need to begin. 

As we do that, God can begin remove the weight of all of that from us, look us in the eyes, and whisper to us, “I know. And I still love you. Now get up and try again.”

And in that, we will begin to experience the reality of God’s goodness and peace more deeply. And those words will become truths. And God’s Kingdom will grow, first within us and then in the world around us, bit by tiny bit, moment by singular moment, interaction by individual interaction.

There is real power available in the act of confessing our sin.

I invite you now, as beloved children of God, to join me for a few moments of silent confession.

Let us pray…

And of course, a time of confession is not complete without what I like to call an Assurance of Belovedness. So know, dear one, that even in the face of full admission of your sin (or as “full” as you can muster at the moment), you are deeply and utterly loved. Always. Forever. No matter what. Know that in the name of Jesus Christ, you are forgiven! Get up and get living!

—————————–
So–what do you think? Do you love it?? If not yet, keep trying. Keep returning to it. You just might surprise yourself one day…and love it. 

Or maybe I’m just a little strange that way… 🙂
Deb

Rewriting Psalm 31

(the first five verses) by Rev. Deb Worley

“In you, O Lord, I seek refuge; 
do not let me ever be put to shame;
In your righteousness deliver me.
Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily.
Be a rock of refuge for me, 
a strong fortress to save me.

You are indeed my rock and my fortress; 
for your name’s sake lead me and guide me,
Take me out of the net that is hidden for me, 
for you are my refuge.
Into your hand I commit my spirit; 
you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.”

(Psalm 31:1-5, NRSV)

In other words…

In my words….

This is what I need from you, God–
a place of safety, a place of protection,
a place of freedom
from those who would hurt me,
oppress me, shame me,
pursue me….

That’s what I need from you….
Did you hear me, God? 
Will you please be that for me??
And be that for me now??….

Wait–you are that. 
All of that!  
You are my place of safety,
and my protection;
in you I can find freedom 
from all that would hurt
or oppress or shame or pursue me!  

I trust you, God;
in honor of that trust,
please show me what to do next.

I trust you,
and your strength,
and your goodness,
and your protection….

Please honor that trust
by keeping me safe
and guiding me away from 
traps that I don’t even know
have been set for me,
traps that I can’t try to avoid
because I don’t even see them!

I trust you, O God;
I trust you fully…
and how I long to be
fully trustworthy in return. 

I know, deep in my soul,
that you love me, O God,
and that you only want what’s Good….

I give myself to you, O God,
and step forward,
head held high,
my hand in yours,
in faith….

Amen.
Peace be with us all.
Deb