faith

Defend the cradle of my mind

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
The Three Wise Men, by Henry Ossawa Tanner, via Wikimedia Commons
 
Come closer to me, closer still, O Power of the Holy Trinity.  
Enter into my consciousness more deeply 
    than thoughts and emblems of the world can.
In the same way as a wise mother, when she conceives,
    prepares and embellishes a cradle for her child,
    so prepare and embellish my mind for that which will be begotten from You,
    O Beauty and Purity.

Many evil thoughts lurk like serpents around the cradle of Your Son.
And many wicked desires emerge from my heart and seek the cradle of Your Prince,
    to poison Him with their arrows.

Defend the cradle of my mind,
    and teach my soul how to give birth and care for an infant.

Shroud in deep darkness 
    the journey of all malevolent visitors coming to see my newborn son.
And raise aloft a most radiant star 
    over the way of the Wise Men from the East,
    men who are truly wise, 
    because they are coming to visit my most precious child with three gifts—
    faith, hope, and love.

Come closer to me, still closer, my majestic Lord.

Nikolai Velimirovich 1881-1956 Serbian Orthodox monastic
Prayers by the Lake, source, edited
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Matthew 2:9-12

After they had heard the king, they went on their way, 
    and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them 
   until it stopped over the place where the child was. 
When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. 
On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, 
    and they bowed down and worshiped him. 
Then they opened their treasures 
    and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. 
And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, 
    they returned to their country by another route.
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How is your mind vulnerable to harmful thought patterns?
How can reflecting on the personhood of Jesus help protect your thought life?

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Becoming Real Human Beings

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The Nativity, ​El Greco, via Wikimedia Commons
 
You became human, really human.
While we endeavor to grow out of our humanity,
    to leave our human nature behind us,
    You became human,
    and we must recognize that You want us also to be human –
    really human.
Whereas we distinguish between the godly and the godless,
    the good and the evil, the noble and the common,
    You love real human beings without distinction. . . .
    You take the side of real human beings and the real world
        against all their accusers. . . .
 
But it’s not enough to say that You take care of human beings.
This sentence rests on something
    infinitely deeper and more impenetrable,
    namely, that in the conception and birth of Jesus Christ,
    You took on humanity in bodily fashion.
You raised your love for human beings
    above every reproach of falsehood and doubt and uncertainty
    by yourself entering into the life of human beings as a human being,
    by bodily taking upon yourself
    and bearing the nature, essence, guilt, and suffering of human beings.
 
Out of love for human beings, You became a human being.
You do not seek out the most perfect human being
    in order to unite with that person.
Rather, You take on human nature as it is.
 
after Dietrich Bonhoeffer 1906 – 1945 German Lutheran theologian and martyr

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John 1:14

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us,
    and we have seen his glory,
    glory as of the only Son from the Father,
    full of grace and truth.
 
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How do you value your own humanity 
   in light of the reality that God chose to become a human being?

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help us walk with Joseph

/ Eric Mathews / 1 Comment
The Dream of Saint Joseph, Champaigne, c.1642, The National Gallery UK
 
Help us to walk with Joseph
   into the darkness,
   the not knowing.
Having to marry the mystery
   before everything else.
Surrendering all claim
   to outcomes or knowledge of them,
committing to the love at hand,
   and it was enough.
The very undoing that confounded him
   was the love that found him.
The answer he sought was no answer,
   but only presence,
this woman who also could not be afraid,
this child who could not be revealed
   until after he said yes,
this God, who was not at the end of the journey
   but his companion on the journey
   and the dark road itself, Emmanuel.

We have to say yes
   before anything, don’t we?
Joseph, walk with me.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes, American Methodist pastor
unfoldinglight.net
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Matthew 1:20

But after he had considered this,
an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said,
“Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife,
    because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.”
 
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When has God brought you to a place that was unknown to you?  
Looking back, how did God shape you on the journey?

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Give us faith to believe what is true

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The Annunciation, Caravaggio, via Wikimedia Commons
 
O Holy God of Promise,
    we so often place our trust in the things we can see,
    and touch, and easily believe.
But you did not ask us to believe what is easy,
    you have asked us to believe what is true!
Forgive us, Holy One, when we doubt the ways you work.
Forgive us when we find it hard to believe an ancient story.
Forgive us when we question how you chose to enter the world,
    born as one of us.
Forgive our lack of faith and belief
    in ways which seem so impossible to believe.
Help us to look in faith, open our belief, and set aside our doubts
    that you sent your Son, born of a virgin –
        the one who has come to set us all free.
We offer these prayers in the name of your Son,
Emmanuel, God with us.  
Amen.

Jan Brooks, Presbyterian Pastor in Kansas
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Luke 1:26-29
 
In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, 
God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a town in Galilee, 
    to a virgin pledged to be married to a man named Joseph, 
    a descendant of David. 
The virgin’s name was Mary. 
The angel went to her and said, 
    “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Mary was greatly troubled at his words 
    and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. 
 
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What part of the Christmas story is the most difficult for you to believe?
Share this with God, and perhaps a trusted friend.

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We come to pray for ourselves…

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Photo by Chris Zhang on Unsplash

God of our times, our years, our days.
  You are the God of our work,
        of our rest,
        of our weariness.
Our times are in your hands. We come to you now
    in our strength and in our weakness,
    in our hope and in our despair,
    in our buoyancy and in our disease.
We come to pray for ourselves and for all like us
    who seek and yearn for life anew with you and from you
        and for you.

We pray to you this day, for ourselves and others like us in our greed
  We are among those who want more,
        more money, more power, more piety, more sex,
        more influence, more doctrine, more notice,
        more members,
        more students, more morality, more learning, more shoes.
  Be for us enough and more than enough,
    for we know about your self-giving generosity.

We pray to you this day; for ourselves and others like us
        in our disconsolation.
  We are not far removed from those without.
        without love. without home, without hope,
        without job, without health care.
  We are close enough to vision those who must
        check discarded butts to see if there is one more puff,
        who must rummage and scavenge for food.
        for their hungers are close to ours.
  Be among us the God who fills the hungry with good things,
        and sends the rich away empty.

We pray to you this day, for ourselves and others like us
    who are genuinely good people,
    who meditate on your Torah day and night.
    who are propelled by and for your best causes.
    who are on the right side of every issue,
    who wear ourselves out in obedience to you,
        and sometimes wear others out with our good intentions.
Be among us ultimate enough
        to make our passions penultimate,
        valid but less than crucial.
 
We are your people. We wait for you to be more visibly
    and palpably our God.
So we pray with our mothers and fathers, ” Come, Lord Jesus.”
We wait for your coming with all the graciousness we can muster.
Amen.
 
Walter Brueggemann, 1933 – 2025,  American Protestant Old Testament theologian 
 
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Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, 
    that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

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Jesus, fight for me against Satan

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Lord Jehovah,
judge my cause and fight for me against Satan and his host.
Lay the strong one low!
 
I have cast off his yoke, and renounced his cursed power.
He doubly hates this, and longs to seize me as his prey.
 
I flee to you and to your cross for help.
He would win if you did not deliver me – but you have already defeated him.
 
Do not let him conquer me! Put him to shame, O Lord my God! 
Give me victory!
 
It is not strength that wins; my weakness is my shield.
In lowly trust we fight the fight, and weakness wins the battle.
 
So give me a lowly heart, and cast away each prideful thought.
Let gentleness and love come in instead, and abide in my life.
 
Your will, not mine, be done. I resist my selfish desires.
Let me ever and always be your servant only.
 
Jesus, I flee to you. I cling to your cross.
Save me from Satan’s hellish power and pluck me from his grasp.
 
So I will praise you, Lord, and adore your great name.
With Father and Spirit one, forever and ever, amen.
 
Ephrem the Syrian, c.306-373, Syrian hymn writer and theologian
 
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Be sober-minded; be watchful. 
Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. 
Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering 
   are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. 
And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, 
    who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, 
    will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. 
To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.
 

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Lord of ultimate power

/ Eric Mathews / 1 Comment

photo by Christian Lue via unsplash
      

Father, source of all power, 
We confess that we do not always use the powers you have given us as you intend. 
Sometimes we are afraid of the power we wield, 
        and so do not use it at all; 
  at other times we are careless in our use of it and harm others; 
  at yet other times we deliberately misuse it to achieve our own selfish ends. 
We confess our misuse of our God-given powers, 
    and ask for your grace to use them properly in the future.
 
We think of the power of the nations of the world. 
In international affairs it so often seems that events are out of our control, and rule us. 
Father, help us to see how national power can be wielded for the fulfilment of your will.
 
We think of the power of economic systems. 
Often we feel enmeshed in a system which is not fair 
    and yet cannot be changed without causing immense hardship. 
Father, help us to become masters of economic forces 
    and to order them for the purposes of justice.
 
We think of the power of governments. 
They now touch our personal lives at so many points. 
Father, may politicians and civil servants use their powers responsibly 
    and respect the rights of individuals.

Give us the courage to challenge them when they are wrong, 
    and willingness to share in the processes of government ourselves. 
May the power of governments everywhere be used for the good of all.

Father, yours is the ultimate power. 
We see evidence of it everywhere in the world, 
    but most of all in Jesus Christ. 
In him we see the power of your love: 
    weakness and death did not destroy him and you raised him from death. 
May that same power of love be in us.

Caryl Micklem, 1925 – 2003, English minister and hymn writer
 
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His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, 
    through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence,
    by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, 
    so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, 
    having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.

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seeing Easter through fresh eyes

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The Women at the Sepulchre, Benjamin West, Brooklyn Museum
 
Lord,
as if the shock of Good Friday wasn’t enough for your closest followers…

We feel for those faithful women who went to visit you
just after sunrise on that Sunday morning,
and fled, trembling and bewildered and afraid.

You were not there.

Forgive us when we sanitise your death.
And forgive us, too, if we belittle your resurrection!

Please help us to see this most incredible of moments,
this greatest twist of any plot,
through fresh eyes,
on this bewildering, yet most joyful of mornings.

Help us to see it through the tear-filled eyes of those women.

Help us to see it through the disbelieving eyes of the men,
some of whom came running.

And help us to glimpse it through your own eyes,
which must have blinked into the early morning sunlight
of that first Easter Day,
from out of complete, and utter, darkness,
and refocused,
and creased, with a smile.

You are risen indeed.
 
 
Brian Draper, Christian writer in the UK 
 
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On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, 
    the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. 
They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 
    but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. 
While they were wondering about this, 
    suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. 
In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, 
    but the men said to them, 
        “Why do you look for the living among the dead? 
          He is not here; he has risen! 
          Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: 
           ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, 
             be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ” 
Then they remembered his words.
 

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Prayer on Good Friday

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
photo by Murilo Soares via pexels
 
Prayer on Good Friday.
Which isn’t good at all.
One of the great misnomers of all time.
It’s bleak, haunted, immensely sad.
It rivets and ravages me every year 
    as I sit hidden behind a post-beam
    in the balcony of the chapel,
    where no one can see me weeping
    at the poor broken Yeshua,
    betrayed by his best friends,
    beaten by sneering cops,
    blood dripping into His eyes,
    grilled by a police chief who couldn’t care less
        about justice and mercy and only wants to evade blame
        for a matter he considers minor at best.
 
Yet it wasn’t minor at all,
     and somehow it turns on that harrowing day long ago.
A mysterious young man from a country village,
    causing an epic political and civil ruckus in the city.
A murderous mob, angry religious Brahmins, potential colonial unrest
    that will not look good at headquarters.
Gnomic answers by the calm young man when interrogated.
Poor Peter bitterly berating himself for his cowardice,
    and which one of us would have done better?
The apostles frightened, the sound of hammers 
    nailing the young man to a cross,
    the lowering darkness, 
    the murmurs of fear through the city as the sun is blotted out.
Veronica’s veil and Simon’s shoulders, Simon the African,
    did compassion surge and make him step forth,
    or was he shoved into legend by a soldier?
 
The gaunt young man sagging toward death; 
    His quiet blessing of a thief;
    His last words to his mother;
        one last desperate cry;
    He thirsts, He prays, He dies.
 
And in the chapel not another word, not another sound;
    and soon we exit silently, and go our ways,
    for once without the tang of Euchaist on our tongues,
    for once without a cheerful chaff for friends and handshakes all round;
    and no matter how bright the rest of the day,
        how brilliant the late afternoon, 
        how redolent the new flowers,
        how wild the sunset over the river
    you shiver a little; not just for Him, but for all of us,
    His children, face to face with despair.
And so silently home to pray for light emerging miraculously
    where it seemed all dark.
And so: amen.
 
Brian Doyle, 1956 – 2017, Catholic author from Oregon
A Book of Uncommon Prayer
____________________________
 
 
It was now about noon, 
    and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon,
    for the sun stopped shining. 
And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. 
Jesus called out with a loud voice, 
    “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
When he had said this, he breathed his last.
 

What was it like when Mary anointed your feet?

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image, GFreihalter, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
 
 
Jesus, what was it like when Mary anointed your feet?
Was there daylight or was the room lit with candles?
Did she anoint your right foot first?
Was the spikenard warm?
How long did it take to pour out the entire bottle?
What did it feel like to have her hair wiping your feet?
Just how fragrant did the room become?

What was Mary feeling? Immense gratitude, unbridled love, melancholy?
Did she have any idea that she was preparing your body for burial?

What was the tone of Judas and the disciples who objected?
Were any of them really thinking of the poor?
Would I have joined them in their disdain?

How sharp or gentle were your words of correction?
Did they have any idea that you would be washing their feet soon?

How did Mary receive your words defending her?
Did she smile, or did her eyes become wet?
How did she feel when you shared that you would not be with them much longer?

What was it like to be with you that evening, Jesus?
Be close to me as I follow you through Holy Week.
 
EM
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Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, 
    where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. 
Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. 
Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. 
Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; 
    she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. 
And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, 
    “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? 
      It was worth a year’s wages.” 
He did not say this because he cared about the poor 
    but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, 
   he used to help himself to what was put into it.

“Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. 
“It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. 
You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”

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