prayer

prayer before the prayer

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment

Desmond M. Tutu CC BY 2.0

 
I want to be willing to let go, to forgive.
but dare not ask for the will to forgive,
    in case you give it to me
    and I am not yet ready.
I am not yet ready for my heart to soften.
I am not yet ready to be vulnerable again.
Not yet ready to see that there is humanity in my tormentor’s eyes
    or that the one who hurt me may also have cried.
I am not yet ready for the journey.
I am not yet interested in the path.
I am at the prayer before the prayer of forgiveness.

Grant me the will to want to forgive.
Grant it to me not yet but soon
Can I even form the words?
Forgive me? Dare I even look?
Do I dare to see the hurt I have caused:
I can glimpse all the shattered pieces of that fragile thing
    that soul trying to rise on the broken wings of hope.
But only out of the corner of my eye.
I am afraid of it.
And if I am afraid to see
How can I not be afraid to say: Forgive me?

Is there a place where we can meet?
You and me
The place in the middle where we straddle the lines
Where you are right and I am right too.
And both of us are wrong and wronged.
Can we meet there?
And look for the place where the path begins
The path that ends when we forgive.
 
Desmond Tutu, 1931 – 2021 & Mpho Tutu, 1963- South African Anglican priests
 
___________________________
 
Colossians 3:12-13
 
Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves,
    you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy,
    kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.
Make allowance for each other’s faults,
    and forgive anyone who offends you.
Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.

___________________________

Questions

When have you experienced forgiveness and a restored relationship with someone else?
What are some of the steps you could take to initiate a forgiveness in another relationship?

forgiveness that recreates

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
“Reconciliation” by Vasconcellos, Coventry Cathedral
​
 
Jesus’ prayer was, ‘Father, forgive them,
they know not what they do.’
A prayer born in death, writhing with pain.
A prayer risking faith, facing the sorrow.
A prayer living in hope, seeing the future.
 
My prayer was, ‘God, how can I forgive them?
They do know what they did.’
A prayer saying, ‘ It still hurts.’
A prayer wanting vengeance.
A prayer seeking direction.
 
My prayer became, ‘God, help me forgive them;
they know what they did.’
A prayer saying, ‘They were wrong.
A prayer wanting reconciliation.
A prayer seeing courage.
 
My prayer became, ‘God, forgive them;
they know what they did.’
A prayer that wrestled with injustice.
A prayer that acknowledges weakness.
A prayer that found hope in God’s love.
 
My prayer remains, ‘God, forgive them;
they know what they did.’
Because forgiveness recreates life from death.
Because forgiveness cleanses the healing wound.
Because forgiveness builds the bridge of freedom.
 
Jared P. Pingleton, Christian psychologist, author, and speaker

________________________
 
Matthew 18:18-19
 
Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven,
    and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.
Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask,
    it will be done for them by my Father in heaven.

___________________

Questions:

What is one relationship that would benefit from forgiveness and renewal?
How can you “loose on earth” the hurts you’ve experienced 
    so that heaven might be brought to earth?

prayer for Christian leaders

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
Shepherd with a Flock of Sheep, Van Gogh, via Wikimedia Commons
 
 
Lord, cleanse our churches, and repair their walls,
    so that they may become gardens of delight
    for Christ to walk in and take pleasure in.
May her ministers be faithful and wise:
    faithful so they do not deceive others;
    wise so they do not deceive themselves.
May their wisdom prevent deceivers imposing on them,
    and their faithfulness prevent them imposing on others.
May their wisdom enable them to discern
    wholesome food for the flock
and their faithfulness oblige them to distribute it.
 
May our leaders be pure
    with spiritual aims and intentions,
serving not their own honor and intentions, but yours.
 
May our leaders show sincerity,
    not appearing outwardly spiritual
        while being inwardly carnal.
 
May our leaders be diligent,
    like men in harvest,
        like women in labor,
            like men in battle,
                watching while others sleep.
 
May our leaders lack favoritism,
    as those who will appear before an impartial God.
May they take the same care,
    manifest the same love,
        show the same diligence
        to the poorest and weakest souls in their care
        as they do the rich, the great and the honorable.
    For all souls are rated the same in your book of life,
    and our Redeemer paid as much for one as the other.
 
May their faithfulness fix their eyes on the right end,
    and may their wisdom direct them
    to the best means of attaining it.
May they lay a good foundation of knowledge in our souls,
    choosing subjects that will meet our needs,
    shaping the language in which they address us,
    using their own affections to move us,
    being careful of their behavior.
Send them often to their knees
    to seek your blessings upon their labor,
    knowing that all their success 
        entirely depends upon you.
 
John Flavel, c. 1627–1691, English Puritan Presbyterian minister
__________________________
 
 
To the elders among you, 
I appeal as a fellow elder and a witness of Christ’s sufferings 
    who also will share in the glory to be revealed: 
Be shepherds of God’s flock that is under your care, 
    watching over them—not because you must, 
    but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; 
    not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve ; 
    not lording it over those entrusted to you, 
    but being examples to the flock.
 

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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.
 

prayer before the prayer

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
Desmond M. Tutu CC BY 2.0
 
 
I want to be willing to let go, to forgive.
but dare not ask for the will to forgive,
    in case you give it to me
    and I am not yet ready.
I am not yet ready for my heart to soften.
I am not yet ready to be vulnerable again.
Not yet ready to see that there is humanity in my tormentor’s eyes
    or that the one who hurt me may also have cried.
I am not yet ready for the journey.
I am not yet interested in the path.
I am at the prayer before the prayer of forgiveness.

Grant me the will to want to forgive.
Grant it to me not yet but soon
Can I even form the words?
Forgive me? Dare I even look?
Do I dare to see the hurt I have caused:
I can glimpse all the shattered pieces of that fragile thing
    that soul trying to rise on the broken wings of hope.
But only out of the corner of my eye.
I am afraid of it.
And if I am afraid to see
How can I not be afraid to say: Forgive me?

Is there a place where we can meet?
You and me
The place in the middle where we straddle the lines
Where you are right and I am right too.
And both of us are wrong and wronged.
Can we meet there?
And look for the place where the path begins
The path that ends when we forgive.
 
Desmond Tutu, 1931 – 2021 & Mpho Tutu, 1963- South African Anglican priests,
 
___________________________
 
 
Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, 
    you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, 
    kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. 
Make allowance for each other’s faults, 
    and forgive anyone who offends you. 
Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.
 

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Why is there so little prayer?

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
 
Why is there so little urgency
    to get time to pray?
Why is there so little forethought 
    in the laying out of time and schedule
  so as to secure a large portion 
    of each day for prayer?
Why is there so much talking,
    yet so little prayer?
Why is there so much running to and fro,
    yet so little prayer?
Why so much bustle and business,
    yet so little prayer?
Why so many meetings with our fellow men.
    yet so few meetings with You?
Why so little being alone,
    so little thirsting of the soul 
        for the calm. sweet, hours of unbroken solitude,
    where You and your child hold fellowship 
        as if they could never part?
It is the scarcity of these solitary hours 
    that not only injures my own growth in grace
    but also makes me such an unprofitable member of Your church,
         and renders my life useless.
 
Horatius Bonar, 1808-1889, Scottish Preacher and Hymnist
Celtic Daily Prayer, freely modified
 
_________________________
 
 
Give ear, O Lord, to my prayer;
    listen to my plea for grace.
In the day of my trouble I call upon you,
    for you answer me.
 

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Come gentle rain of Advent-tide

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
Hawaii lava flower
 
Isaiah of old prayed,
    “Let the earth open wide her mouth;
    as justice descends, O heavens, 
    like the dew from above,
    like gentle showers,
    let salvation fall from the skies;
    let justice spring up
    and salvation bud forth.”
Come gentle rain of Advent-tide,
    soak deep into my heart,
    calling forth signs of an early spring.
Make buds appear on my heart’s barren rosebush
    and blooms on its dried flower stalks.
Come showers of silence and wet my soul;
    soak deeply with your fertile fingers, dripping heaven’s dew.
May I come forth from my times of prayer
    as from a bath:
    dripping wet from a sacred soaking, 
    refreshed, renewed, revitalized.
Advent prayer of December stillness,
    dampen my dry soul,
    coax forth green leaves of the Spirit 
    and bring forth buds of bright flowers 
    as green trees flicker with magic lights 
    and green wreath circles
    whirl on front doors,
    red-bowed in festive joy.
May soggy souls ooze out awesome gifts,
    for Emmanuel, God-among-us,
    is awakened from a yearlong slumber 
    by gentle mists of Advent longing 
    and is eager to give gifts of love, 
    presents of your presence.
Radiant Rain God,
    make me your brimful cloud,
    ready to shower down Emmanuel’s justice and peace 
    upon all I meet. 
 
Edward Hayes, 1931 – 2016, Catholic Priest, Kansas City
 
____________________________
 
 
Shower, O heavens, from above,
    and let the clouds rain down righteousness;
let the earth open,
    that salvation and righteousness may bear fruit;
    let the earth cause them both to sprout;
    I the Lord have created it.
 

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O Lord, in prayer . . .

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
Charles Haddon Spurgeon, via Wikimedia Commons
 
O Lord, in prayer I launch far out into the eternal world, 
    and on that broad ocean my soul triumphs 
        over all evils on the shores of mortality. 
Time, with its gay amusements and cruel disappointments 
    never appears so inconsiderate as then.

In prayer I see myself as nothing; 
I find my heart going after You with intensity, 
    and long with vehement thirst to live to You. 
Blessed be the strong gales of the Spirit 
    that speed me on my way to the New Jerusalem.

In prayer all things here below vanish, 
    and nothing seems important 
        but holiness of heart and the salvation of others.

In prayer all my worldly cares, fears, anxieties disappear, 
    and are of as little significance as a puff of wind.

In prayer my soul inwardly exults with lively thoughts 
    at what You are doing for Your church, 
  and I long that You should get Yourself a great name 
    from sinners returning to Zion.

In prayer I am lifted above the frowns and flatteries of life, 
    and taste heavenly joys; 
  entering into the eternal world I can give myself to You with all my heart, 
    to be Yours for ever.

In prayer I can place all my concerns in Your hands, 
    to be entirely at Your disposal, 
        having no will or interest of my own.

In prayer I can intercede for my friends, ministers, sinners, the church, 
    Your kingdom to come, with greatest freedom, ardent hopes, 
        as a son to his father, as a lover to the beloved.

Help me to be all prayer and never to cease praying..
 
Charles Haddon Spurgeon, 1834-1892, English Baptist Preacher
 
______________________
 
 
 Rejoice always, pray without ceasing

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Grace to believe and to love God

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
Flannery O’Connor, Cmacauley, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
 
 
Please let Christian principles permeate my writing 
    and please let there be enough of my writing (published)
    for Christian principles to permeate.
I dread, Oh Lord, losing my faith. 
My mind is not strong.
It is prey to all sorts of intellectual quackery.
I do not want it to be fear which keeps me in the church.
I don’t want to be a coward, staying with You because I fear hell.
I should reason that if I fear hell, I can be assured of the author of it
But learned people can analyze for me why I fear hell 
    and their implication is that there is no hell.
But I believe in hell.
Hell seems a great deal more feasible to my weak mind than heaven.
No doubt because hell is a more earthly seeming thing.
I can fancy the tortures of the damned
    but I cannot imagine the disembodied souls 
    hanging in a crystal for all eternity praising God.
It is natural that I should not imagine this.
If we could accurately map heaven some of our up & coming scientists
    would begin to draw blueprints for its improvement,
    and the bourgeois would sell guides 10 cents the copy to all over 65.
But I do not mean to be clever although I do mean to be clever on 2nd thought
    and like to be clever and want to be considered so.
But the point more specifically here is,
    I don’t want to fear to be out, I want to love to be in;
    I don’t want to believe in hell but in heaven.
Stating this does me no good.
It is a matter of the gift of grace.
Help me to feel that I will give up every earthly thing for this.
 
Flannery O’Conner, 1925 – 1964, American Catholic writer, 
A Prayer Journal, journalled when she was 22
 
_____________________
 
 
The Lord is good to all;
    he has compassion on all he has made.
All your works praise you, Lord;
    your faithful people extol you.
They tell of the glory of your kingdom
    and speak of your might,
 so that all people may know of your mighty acts
    and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.
Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
    and your dominion endures through all generations.
 

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you have forgiven me such great sins

/ Eric Mathews / Leave a comment
 
What return shall I make to the Lord 
    for my ability to recall these things with no fear in my soul? 
I will love you, Lord, and thank you, and praise your name, 
    because you have forgiven me such great sins and such wicked deeds. 
I acknowledge that it was by your grace and mercy 
    that you melted away my sins like ice. 
I acknowledge, too, that by your grace 
    I was preserved from whatever sins I did not commit,
    for there was no knowing what I might have done, 
    since I loved evil even if it served no purpose. 
I avow that you have forgiven me all,
    both the sins which I committed of my own accord 
    and those which by your guidance I was spared from committing.

What man who reflects upon his own weakness 
    can dare to claim that his own efforts have made him chaste and free from sin, 
    as though this entitled him to love you the less, 
    on the ground that he had less need of the mercy 
    by which you forgive the sins of the penitent? 
There are some who have been called by you 
    and because they have listened to your voice 
    they have avoided the sins which I here record and confess for them to read. 
But let them not deride me for having been cured by the same Doctor 
    who preserved them from sickness, 
    or at least from such grave sickness as mine. 
Let them love you just as much, or even more, than I do, 
    for they can see that the same healing hand 
        which rid me of the great fever of my sins 
        protects them from falling sick of the same disease. 
 
St. Augustine of Hippo, 354-430
 
_____________________________
 
 
I love the Lord, for he heard my voice;
    he heard my cry for mercy.
Because he turned his ear to me,
    I will call on him as long as I live.

The cords of death entangled me,
    the anguish of the grave came over me;
    I was overcome by distress and sorrow.
Then I called on the name of the Lord:
    “Lord, save me!”

The Lord is gracious and righteous;
    our God is full of compassion.
The Lord protects the unwary;
    when I was brought low, he saved me.

Return to your rest, my soul,
    for the Lord has been good to you.

For you, Lord, have delivered me from death,
    my eyes from tears,
    my feet from stumbling,
 that I may walk before the Lord
    in the land of the living.
 

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