A Dead Man in LadyBird Lake + Litany for the Homeless

We had a sad and stark thing happen in our family this week. My husband Jordan Gadapee is sharing the tale. A litany from me follows his story.

On December 28, 2016, a man was found dead floating in Austin’s Lady Bird Lake. The man likely drowned, but authorities are not yet sure of the cause of death. He was wearing baggy pants, several shirts, and four neckties. He had a butter knife in his pocket. His name, age, and reasons for being in the lake were all unknown. If you live in the Austin area, you may have come across the story. It’s possible you saw the headline in a passing tweet. Maybe you heard a brief news report on the incident. Or, perhaps, there was an odd odor on your afternoon run. I didn’t run that day.

I work in downtown Austin at 301 Congress St. The lake is a few blocks away from my office, and a lunchtime jog makes for a great pardon on busy days. The man was found floating one mile from my office. That’s 5,280 feet. When the weather is nice, the park around the lake is full of people. You’ll find runners, walkers, and casual explorers. My favorite person is the homeless man who sleeps on the bench. If he’s awake, he’ll give you a high-five as you run past. It was 82° Fahrenheit that day, and I imagine his hand stinging from too many high-fives. I didn’t get a high-five that day.

Lady Bird is a local favorite for recreational watercraft, and the day was perfect for breaking in the kayaks delivered by Santa. Beautiful weather is the upside to Christmas in Texas. A couple of kayakers were enjoying the weather when they spotted the body floating. It’s unusual for people to swim in the lake — thanks to the chlordane, overgrowth, and old debris. The man was unresponsive, so they called 911. I didn’t see the police tape; I was in my office.

I was also in my office on January 03, 2017. It was a week later and cooler outside. The temperature was 74° Fahrenheit. I had just talked to my mother, and she briefed me on the incoming call. I was still holding my phone when it started vibrating. I answered the call at 4:38 pm. Jennifer spoke with a practice cadence of a surgeon, “Hi Jordan. I am Jennifer from the Travis County Coroner’s office.” Pause. “On December 28th your biological father was found dead in Lady Bird Lake.” Shock. Jennifer was excellent at her job. She answered some of my questions: “Yes dead on the scene.” “Drowned, we think. There are other tests still results we need.” “We identified him by his fingerprints.” Silence. “You have an aunt and her name is Jan. She is making the arrangements.” The volley of questions lasted 6 minutes. I wanted to go for a run.

I didn’t know my biological father. I would learn from Jennifer that he was indigent — that’s fancy for homeless. Being homeless means he was a part of society but mostly unseen, unheard, and untouched. He was invisible. Just like in my life; there and not. Present in my enzymes and proteins but not for soccer practice or bed time. No one was looking for him. It took the county seven days to find a relative one mile away. I didn’t even know we lived in the same city. Repeat: I had no idea we both lived in Austin, Texas! There had been divorce, estrangement, distance, and decades. His kinship rights waived long ago. We spoke on the phone once. It was 14 years ago and the conversation was brief. He turned invisible again after that. I never got to run with my father, though we walked on the same streets.

We may have met. I keep spare change and dollar bills in my car to give away to homeless people. I sometimes give away my lunch. I’ve served at food banks and helped box food in South Austin. When my children ask why I give money away, I explain, “This is what kind humans do. We have and they do not, so we share.” I should ask the homeless their names; kind people do that. If I had asked, this story could be different. I am resolved to close the loop and to return kindness for his unkindness. To be present even though he was not. I will be there for whatever service or memorial or tombstone he has. I will try to learn the names of the invisible (especially, high-five-black-man).

Nine days later, the weather has turned. Today the high is 38° Fahrenheit. I do not feel like running. However, I have had many other feels over the last week. Most of all sadness, loneliness, and curiosity. I have been desperate for the nearness of my family. A run with my wife Fran would heal much. I am sad for many reasons. Among them are the circumstances of his dying homeless. Being homeless and dying must be like watching a pot boil. Slowly violent. To die without a place, lonely, and invisible while there is so much and so many around is sad. I’m embarrassed that it happens in our society. I am willing to help.

There are many organizations in the Austin area that provide aid, services, and education to the homeless. Over the next year, I will be giving to money to Caritas of Austin, boxing food at the Central Texas Food Bank, and supporting the Food Pantry at the Austin Vineyard Church. If you’d like to do the same, the links are below. It would make me happy. I will try and run around Lady Bird Lake more often. Most of all, I will learn the names of the homeless I encounter. His name was Johnny.

Caritas of Austin, Tell them Jordan sent you in the comments of your donation.

Austin Vineyard Church, Your donation can go directly to the food ministry. They feed almost 100 families a month.  

Central Texas Food Bank, it’s a great place to volunteer. The people are awesome. It’s great for teams.

If you give to your local charity, linking this article will help them track to source and reasons for your donation.

As a final note I think it’s important to acknowledge that my mother is an incredible woman. The man my mother re-married years later is a loving and caring father. He is my dad. He was always there at soccer practice.

LITANY FOR THE HOMELESS

God, we know that many invisible people exist all around us:
People we consider beneath us,
People we judge for what we consider their poor choices or low standards,
People we distance ourselves from because they are unclean,
People who have been ill or made mistakes and fallen through the cracks of society,
The beggars at the gate. (1)

We don't know them,
But you do.
We don't know their names,
But you know each hair on their heads.
We often fail to care for them,
But they are precious in your sight.

Help us to see what your eyes see:
Human beings
Broken and beautiful
Sacred and scarred.

For those without shelter
We pray to God.
For those without jobs
We pray to God.
For those without food, water, and facilities
We pray to God.
For those who have been imprisoned and never recovered
We pray to God.
For those whose minds are befuddled by illness
We pray to God.
For those destroyed by war
We pray to God.
For those overwhelmed by addiction
We pray to God.
For those who have simply lost hope
We pray to God.

In the midst of death and dying,
Of filth and discomfort;
Of hunger, thirst, and exposure,
Come Lord Jesus!

Make us your hands and feet:
Generous sharers and helpers,
Bearers of the good news of your kingdom
Even unto the Invisibles.

Amen

(1) Luke 16
 

Litany for Imagination

God, we are made by you:
Imagined by you,
Formed in your image,
Created by your love.

We often forget that we are creatures of imaginative potential,
Of creativity;
That our imaginations, like yours, can be generative and life-giving
Useful to your Kingdom.
We often forget that our assumptions about you are limited
     By our experience here;
     By words on a page,
     By culture and tradition,
     By our ego,
     By our smallness.
But with these starting points, and with imagination, we can let go of assuming
And move closer to you.

We struggle, because we only know things that you are like
     Like water
     Like bread
     Like wind
     Like a parent
     Like a king.
But we know that these are incomplete comparisons:
Nothing we know can define you.

We pause now, and open our minds
To the fullness of God;
Of which we can contain only a little at a time -
A portion that gives us life
And makes us hungry and thirsty for more.
Fueling our imaginations.

This is what we ask for:
To be able to move past what we can see, feel,
Taste, touch and hear with our mortal bodies.
Toward a new horizon, a new reality:
A Kingdom you are imagining
And inviting us to imagine and embody.

Amen
 

Litany for End-of-year Reflection

God, with your help we have come here,
To the end of another year,
Some bearing smiles,
Others bearing scars.

We reflect upon your goodness now
Your constant Presence,
Your unfailing love,
Your kind regard.

You offer peace.
We accept.
You offer nearness.
We accept.
You offer a new life.
We accept.
You offer transformed hearts.
We accept.

Heal us where we are wounded.
Sort us where we are confused.
Sweeten us where we are bitter.
Open us where we are shut-down.

For all the ways you’ve revolutionized our hearts and minds this year
We give thanks.
For the improvements to our character,
We give thanks.
For challenges tackled and trials endured,
We give thanks.
For disappointments that have re-oriented us,
We give thanks.
For pain that has disciplined us,
We give thanks.
For love that has soothed us,
We give thanks.
For the light of Christ, whose life has illumined the path of peace,
We give thanks.

Amen
 

Litany for Being of Good Cheer

(See John chapter 16)

God, some of us are bombarded with messages
That tell us we should never feel sad -
We should ignore pain or cover it up.
Some of us are bombarded with messages
That tell us we should only feel sad -
We should give up hope altogether.

We are grateful for your balanced view,
and for your example
Of acknowledging people’s pain and darkness
And companionably entering into it with them;
Of letting death think it won for a hot minute
Then BOOM: resurrection!

Death overcome.
Grief turned to joy.
Weeping turned to laughter.
Pain and travail: a child is born.

Help us to live as faithful Grievers
Of whatever anguish we encounter or experience,
Who are willing to walk among despair.
And help us to live as faithful Hopers:
Courageous People of Good Cheer
Who are certain of our impending joy.

Amen

Being of good cheer is a thing that Jesus says we should do, or be, as it were. At least, the King James translates it that way. Other more contemporary translations give the line as “take courage” or “take heart.” I’m naturally a suspicious, somewhat cynical, glass-half-empty sort of individual; being of good cheer is not really my thing. But this line comes at the tail end of a chapter, John 16, in which Jesus is being really honest with his followers about what it’s going to be like for them to live in the tension of the time between when he leaves and when he comes again. The tension of waiting. The tension, it occurs to me, of Advent.

See, I’m about done with Christmas Cheer by now. Kids are dying in Syria and Yemen, and Standing Rock still isn’t over, and bombings and cancer and melting polar ice caps, and people around the world are grieving a million different losses and hurts. And if you ask me to ignore that and just sing songs and spread cheer I’m probably going to tune you out. I don’t see Jesus ignoring darkness or pain, and I pray we can have the courage to follow his example, roll up our sleeves and be about healing and peacemaking.

The part of the chapter that’s most hopeful to my cynical self is this: Jesus doesn’t sugar coat anything. He doesn’t say, “oh things are going to come up roses for the next few dozen centuries while I’m doing my thing in heaven.” He doesn’t omit the fact that we will experience grief and loss; “you will grieve,” he says baldly, “but your grief will turn to joy” (John 16:20).*

Instead he gives us this invitation to enter into the darkness of grief and pain - an act in itself of hope and faith - so that we may learn to experience joy. It is both permission and a paradox: this becomes that, but only if we stop faking the one and start doing the other. It’s a place we get to lend our weight to help “bend the arc of justice” as MLK famously said, by becoming willing to see and feel the pain around us, and to work transform it in light of Christ’s example.

In this world you’ll have trouble, says Jesus; but be of good cheer because I have overcome the world and you are free to live as though I have even though the evidence you see around you contradicts me. Part of the tension of Advent is this: how to both grieve authentically and be of good cheer. Always the tension, always the paradox of faith, the waiting that stretches our boundaries. I like Christmas Cheer better this way, with salt alongside light, with real-life darkness to illuminate.

*This passage is just another one of the myriad reasons I think grieving is important work, not to be shirked.

Litany for Inner Stillness

God, we know that when we wait upon you
Our strength is renewed. (1)
We know that your presence can grow in us
When we become still. (2)
You are exalted in our hearts
When we contemplate your goodness.

That we often avoid quiet reflection
We confess to you, Oh God.
That we often mistake stillness for sloth,
We confess to you, Oh God.
That we often become hoodwinked by our culture of excess,
We confess to you, Oh God.
That intentional stillness often requires great effort from us,
We confess to you, Oh God.

When we are running around, attending to our to-do lists,
It’s you we seek. (3)
When we are looking for pleasure and consolation,
It’s you we seek.
When we are in need of affirmation and success,
It’s you we seek.
When we are avoiding our pain, or nursing our wounds,
It’s you we seek.

We cease our striving and sink now into the stillness of this moment
For we have composed and quieted our souls. (4)
We immerse ourselves into your loving, always-available presence,
For we have composed and quieted our souls.
We make it our ambition to be deeply familiar with you
For we have composed and quieted our souls.
We meditate upon the beauty of God,
For we have composed and quieted our souls.

Renew us now
As we wait quietly, in stillness, for you.

Amen

(1) Isaiah 40:31
(2) Psalm 46:10
(3) Psalm 63:1
(4) Psalm 131:2

Litany for An Anxious Moment

God, we invite you into this moment
In which our feelings are overwhelming us.
Our breath is shallow,
Our muscles tensed.

We can’t foresee what will happen,
But we know that there are many possibilities,
Both good and bad.
If we’re honest, we tend to dwell on the bad.

Help us to exist in this moment without judgement
Of ourselves
Or of the unknown future.
Help us to observe quietly
And allow our feelings to pass over us
Without taking hold.

With deep inhales
And full exhales
We give the feelings a push.

We take this opportunity to discipline ourselves to remember:
     Your great goodness,
     Your great love,
     Your great strength,
     The peace we find in your presence;
To remember that nothing can separate us from You.

Our feelings are worth considering, but not definitive.
Our perspective is but a small fragment of the whole.
Our reality is but a shadow of Your kingdom.
Our experience is meant to grow us.
Our beings resonate with Your divinity.
Our lives are encompassed in Your life.

Re-orient us now
     Away from imagined distance
     Toward present union with Christ.
Re-orient us now
     Away from fear
     Toward Love.

We are yours, feelings and all.
Amen

A Litany for Thanksgiving

I wrote this litany last year, before I had this site. I've written more litanies on the topic of gratitude than any other topic, and I hope it stays that way. I hope I can always hang on to a grateful heart.

Recently I tweeted this to my 54 twitter followers:
"If I die and the words "Jesus," "equality," and "prayer" don't appear in my epitaph, you'll all know I didn't fulfill my calling."

Now I think I would amend that to include the word "gratitude."
 

To the God of heaven and earth, creator of people and creatures, author of seasons and of time:
We give thanks.
In this season of reflection, we look back over our lives and over the year past, and we acknowledge the ways that you have shaped us.
We give thanks.
We acknowledge the ways that things have not been perfect, and we have fallen short.
We give thanks.
We reflect on the difficulties we have encountered, and the sorrows we’ve borne.
We give thanks.
We remember the times you have seemed near to us, and the times we have been so engrossed in our own lives that we couldn’t sense your presence.
We give thanks.
We confess those times we have failed to help, and missed opportunities to love.
We give thanks.

In joy and in sorrow, in triumph and in failure,
We give thanks.
In prosperity and in loss, in ease and in difficulty,
We give thanks.

We rest in the knowledge that your purposes are accomplished both with and despite us, and we understand that every part of our journey is an opportunity for us to grow.
We give thanks.
We rest in the peace of your kindness and soak up your overflowing love, which is always directed toward us, regardless of whether we are willing to receive it.
We give thanks.

May we go forward, walking in that same kindness, passing peace to all we meet, and loving generously and intentionally.
We give thanks.
And may gratitude be reaped and sown in our hearts
We give thanks.

Amen

Litany for Release

We have come through a tumultuous time here in the U.S. - one tumultuous time that has launched us straight into another. I have personally felt that I need to clear some inner space if I am going to interact with gratitude and the season of Advent. So, on this, the weekend before Thanksgiving I invite you to find a quiet space to pray this prayer with me.

I recommend praying this litany aloud, while doing a lot of breathing. In fact, I recommend a big ol’ breath in between each line. Some nice music would be good too.


God,
We humans have a tendency to hold onto things. Help me to loosen up and let go.

I release my fear to you, God.
I release my pain to you, God.
I release my uncertainty to you, God.
I release my shame to you, God.
I release my busyness and hurry to you, God.
I release my worry to you, God.
I release my defensiveness to you, God.

I release to you any feeling that I need to fake something, or put on a show.
I release to you any sense that I am unworthy, or unloved by you.
I release to you any interactions I’ve had with people that have hurt or shocked me.
I release to you any grudges or unforgiveness I’m holding.
I release to you any urge for vengeance or need to prove a point.

I release myself from inappropriate expectations put on me by other people.
I release myself from insisting on perfection.
I release myself from micromanaging situations, or taking too much responsibility.
I release myself from saying Yes when I should be saying No.
I release myself from saying No when I should be saying Yes.

I accept the peace you offer me in your presence.
I accept the rest you offer me in bearing my burdens.
I accept the freedom you offer me
  To not judge
  To not consume
  To not categorize or label
  To not fill silence with noise.
I accept the spaciousness that comes from giving up things that don’t serve me or others.

Amen.
 

Litany for Defense

For those who are unfamiliar, the Lectionary is a schedule of scripture readings that covers a three year period. Each week there is a reading from the Hebrew scripture, the Epistles, the Psalms and one of the Gospels. The readings for each week will cover the major arcs of scripture over the three years.

For the past few months I have been following along each week with the Lectionary readings from the Gospel of Luke, providing a litany that is a companion to the text. The prayers I provide are intended as both petition and as a tool for spiritual formation. This week’s text is Luke 23:33-43, in which Jesus famously says "Father, forgive them for they know not what they are doing." I follow the Revised Common Lectionary. I'm continually inspired by the Lectionary as it pertains to current events.
 

We are tempted over and over
To try to save ourselves,
Rather than put ourselves in your care.
Father, forgive us. We know not what we do.

We are tempted over and over
To use violence to further our cause,
Rather than consider mercy a victory.
Father forgive us. We know not what we do.

We are tempted over and over
To choose a savior other than Christ;
A soldier instead of a shepherd;
A political or religious leader instead of a lamb.

Keep us from temptation,
And rescue us from evil.
As Christ chose not to save himself from death by violent means,
But instead succumbed
Willingly and without defense.
So may we willingly go down into death
That we may arise as new creatures,
Awakened and alive to Christ’s kingdom.

Amen

Litany for Lament

God, our hearts are weary,
Broken, and sad.
Grief follows us;
Pain is our companion on the road.

We are divided: parents against children,
Brother against brother
Sister against sister,
Half-nation against half-nation.

The sins of our past have revisited us.
They were just beneath the surface,
Covered in a coat of whitewash.
We are newly aware of our complicity.

We mourn our blindness.
We regret our apathy.
We weep at the state of our world.
We wish we had done things differently.
We grieve the wrongs done by us and by others
And reap a harvest of shame.

We open our hearts before you;
We are vulnerable and at your mercy.
Let your will be done to us.
Refine us in your fire.

We purpose ourselves now to walk steadfastly and humbly
Through the chafing grief
And the ache of suffering,
Out to where the mercy falls. (1)


Notes:
Lament has a long tradition among faith cultures, Christianity included. Lament is simply being present to suffering and present to the expression of grief. Happy-go-lucky Evangelicalism has largely forgotten it, and has instead taught its followers to shame those who engage in it. I think we would do well to remember our roots, to go to the book of Lamentations, the book of Job, the Psalms, even to the lamentations of Christ himself (2).

Lament is an important part of the transformation of pain. Richard Rohr says, “If you do not transform your pain, you will surely transmit it to those around you and even to the next generation” (3). I think we have an opportunity here: to lower our defenses and allow ourselves to bear witness to our pain and that of others, and to stop disbelieving others when they tell us they are hurting because we are either a) disconnected from suffering (i.e. “stuffing it”) or b) consumed by it because we’ve never authentically grieved.

In terms of current events: Lament is not a partisan effort. On both sides of the political aisle we have a lot to lament. This isn’t new, but it does seem clearer now in the wake of the most divisive election of my lifetime. Maybe if we hadn’t forgotten how to lament, to really sit with grief and pain for a hot minute, just long enough to let it pierce our armor, instead of only ever reacting to them; we would not be finding ourselves in the situation we are in.

What I’m saying is this: authentic lament might be a checkpoint on the road to reconciliation. It might be one of the keys to transforming our collective pain into something redemptive and beautiful.

1. “Where the Mercy Falls” is the title of a song by David Ruis and Bob Hartry.

2. See Matthew 26

3. Rohr, Richard. _The Naked Now_

Litany for Kindness

God, make us attuned to your compassion,
To the kindness of your heart.

Transform our hearts and minds so that in kindness
We weep with those who weep.
In kindness
We rejoice with those who rejoice.

So that in kindness
We listen to the stories of others.
In kindness
We regard them as more important than our own.
In kindness
We allow ourselves to see hidden broken hearts.
In kindness,
We perceive a greater story.

In kindness
We care for the orphan and the lonely.
In kindness
We care for the sick and the prisoner.
In kindness
We care for those whose lives are just beginning and those whose lives are at an end.
In kindness
We care for those in crisis and in need of refuge.
In kindness
We care for those disregarded, disempowered, and marginalized.

In kindness
We consider how to maintain our hope.
In kindness
We consider how to serve our communities.
In kindness
We consider money and power as tools for good, not end-goals.
In kindness
We consider all humans to be made in your image.

The precious kindness of Christ,
Which firmly corrected and firmly forgave;
The precious kindness of Christ,
Which prevailed over death, violence, and empire;
Guide our hearts and mouths
And keep us in perfect peace.

Amen.


 

Litany for Endurance

The Lectionary text from the Gospels for November 13, 2016 is Luke 21:5-19. The Lectionary is for me a rich source of inspiration on this Election Day Eve.


God, Help us to remain calm in troubled waters,
When things to fear are real or imagined.

When we are tested (1),
Help us to endure.
When we are criticized,
Help us to endure.
When we are misunderstood,
Help us to endure.
When we miss the mark,
Help us to endure.
When things are loud around us,
Help us to endure.
When peace seems impossible,
Help us to endure.
When common ground feels like compromise,
Help us to endure.
When we are thwarted,
Help us to endure.
When discouragement seems like the only reasonable response.
Help us to endure.
When we are tempted to prepare our defense (1),
Help us to endure.
When those we love feel like enemies,
Help us to endure.
When our enemies are hard to love,
Help us to endure.

We know that we gain our souls
By quiet, uncomplaining endurance.
We know that endurance
Expands our souls.

In all things,
May we have the mind of Christ.

Amen


(1) James 1:2-3  “testing… produces perseverance.”

(2) Luke 21:14 “Make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance.”


 

Litany for the Living

The Lectionary text from the Gospels for November 6, 2016 is Luke 20:27-38* This responsive litany is intended to accompany that passage.
 

God of the Living,
Grant that we may live in your presence always,
And be to you alive always:
Children of the resurrection.

Giver of Life,
We extol you.
Great is the Lord,
And greatly to be praised.

May we live out our time on earth alertly,
Awake to your love.
And may the fruits of our labors be
Treasures that moth and rust do not destroy.

May we be considered worthy of a place in the age to come.
When peace reigns,
When justice is fulfilled
When death is no more.

The Lord is gracious, full of mercy,
Slow to anger and abounding in love.
The God of the living
Has brought us to life.

Amen

*If I were paraphrasing this passage, here is how it would go:
Some creeps try to trick Jesus by asking him a ridiculous question about marriage in the afterlife. Jesus hears and graciously answers the question they didn’t ask aloud, which is about resurrection and eternal life in God; implies that they should consider whether they themselves are currently alive or dead.
I don’t know if I have that right. Jesus is pretty mysterious sometimes.

Litany for Transformation

The Lectionary text from the Gospels for October 30, 2016 is from Luke 19:1-10. This prayer is based upon, and an adjunct to a reading of that passage.

God, transformer of persons,
We look to you.

May we have the enthusiasm of Zacchaeus
We want to see you.
May we be willing to go out of our way, to climb obstacles to behold you.
We want to see you.
May we be confident in our stature, our status as Your Beloved.
We want to see you.
May we count the Kingdom as our highest treasure.
We want to see you.
May we be willing to give away all, possessions and power, to receive the riches of grace.
We want to see you.

May we have the openness of Christ, who was a guest of sinners.
We want to be like you.
May we have the mind of Christ, who sought out the lost.
We want to be like you.
May we have the priorities of Christ, who disregarded those who grumbled at his ways.
We want to be like you.
May we have the compassion of Christ, who loved all the poor and powerless.
We want to be like you.
May we have the grace of Christ, who forgave even those who abused their power.
We want to be like you.

We, who with unveiled faces, contemplate the Lord’s glory
Are being transformed into his image (1).
As we gaze upon Christ,
We are transformed.

Amen.

(1) 2 Cor 3:18
 

Litany for Presence

I mentioned a couple of litanies ago that I think Contemplative faith has a lot to offer us in terms of ways to order ourselves so that we remain hopeful. Since about 2012, I have been delving progressively more deeply into contemplative faith, and discovering that the mystics have found an entirely other way to be faithful, one not often found in conventional church teaching today. We who are stuck in our ruts of dualistic thinking, of us and them, of right and left, of either/or, just don’t have the framework for contemplation; and to me this seems more evident than ever.

Richard Rohr says that “Contemplatives refuse to create false dichotomies, dividing the field for the sake of the quick comfort of their ego. They do not rush to polarity thinking to take away their mental anxiety… Contemplation refuses to be reductionistic. Contemplation is an exercise in keeping your heart and mind spaces open long enough for the mind to see other hidden material” (1).

I just think if there were ever a time that our culture could use a healthy dose of non-dualistic, contemplative thinking, it’s this election cycle. I see myself and so many of us expending so much energy on judgement and control that we have no silence left. We are busy categorizing, so we have lost the thread of the narrative, the bigger picture of the Presence of God here and now, within and among us, redeeming and working through everything.

If you’d like to dip a toe into contemplation, here is a prayer to get you started.


God:
(ALL:) You are here.
We quiet ourselves now, that we may know more deeply
You are here.
We don’t have to ask for your presence.
You are here.
We don’t have to earn your presence.
You are here.

Help us to find the quiet spaces within ourselves.
You are here.
Help us to see more widely and farther.
You are here.
Help us to become more aligned with your nature.
You are here.

With compassion
You are here.
With benevolence
You are here.
With peace
You are here.
With love
You are here.

We breathe in.
You are here.
We breathe out.
You are here.

Amen

(1) Rohr, Richard. _The Naked Now_ pg 34

Litany for Humility

The Lectionary passage from the Gospels for October 23, 2016 is Luke 18:9-14. And, well, I encourage you to read it because I'd say here’s a passage we can use about now.

In fact, just the other day I read an article written by a pastor which declared that anyone who stood against his preferred presidential candidate to be under no uncertain terms a “pharisee.” I confess I was a bit offended and judged that pastor to be judgemental and pharisaical himself. After all, I’m only trying to navigate these murky waters as best I can, just like we all are. And they are VERY MURKY, stick-your-hand-in-and-it-disappears murky. And besides, I think you are wrong, nameless pastor. Dead wrong. Actually I’m certain that you are. And I am right, and I see through these murky waters more clearly than you do because I am further along on the path of enlightenment than you are, obviously.

And my certainty and righteousness leave me no room for humility. My defensive stance leaves no energy left in my heart for self-reflection. My internal list of all the good qualities I possess, which I immediately begin to recite whenever someone questions my motives, drowns out the small voice that invites me to spiritual formation, to consider how I might be part of the problem, what I might do to be part of the solution.

Does this narrative sound familiar?

I think we can subvert it. I think we can, in a sort of grassroots, guerilla way, which in my experience how mercy usually operates, BE THE CHANGE. We can reject mudslinging and turn our cheeks. We can lower our defensive fists and invite contemplation. We can loudly and decisively reject oppression, and then live prophetically and humbly into what comes after it is gone. We can listen to the chorus of angry voices around us, find where the pain is, and set about healing it. We can do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly.

At least I hope we can.

God, we turn toward you now.
Be merciful to us, sinners.

We feel we must defend ourselves.
We take refuge in you.
We feel we must silence others.
We choose to be still instead.
We feel we must rebut every argument.
We look to you for what is right.
We feel we must make ourselves appear powerful.
We remember that your power is made perfect in weakness. (1)

Help us to not point fingers or launch accusations.
Help us to quietly and peaceably stand up for what is good.
Help us to take care of our own hearts before criticizing others.
Help us to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly.

We recognize that we are sinners
In need of mercy.
We recognize that we all see in part,
In need of divine perspective.
We recognize that we are all fighting a great battle,
In need of kindness. (2)

May we imitate the humility of Christ,
Who accepted punishment,
Who endured humiliation and slander
And used them for good.

We turn toward you now.
Be merciful to us, sinners.

Amen
 

1. 2 Corinthians 12:9

2. Quote attributed to Ian McLaren

Litany for Diversity

Do I have to say anything about this litany? Do I have to point out the headlines, the twitter feeds, the political season? I think not. I think we can acknowledge that we have some problems accepting one another, problems loving one another, problems with being kind. And I think we can acknowledge ways in which this political cycle has shown us our own hearts and characters in ways we needed to see. Some have said that it is God's judgement. But I am inclined to think it is God's mercy, moving us forward.

God, you have made people of every imaginable kind
Colors and shapes,
Privileged and marginalized,
Rich and poor.

We have differences of every imaginable kind
Perspectives and worldviews,
Countries and cultures,
Philosophies and theologies.

We acknowledge that we tend to fear what we don’t understand,
And that love is more powerful than fear.
We acknowledge that we must work to understand each other
And that this work is Kingdom work.
We acknowledge that each perspective brings your nature into clearer picture
And that we need each other’s points of view.

Help us to love one another
Even though we are different.
Help us to celebrate one another
Even though we may not agree.
Help us to be kind to one another
Even when we have been hurt.
Help us to open the doors to our churches
    Homes
    Organizations
    Governing bodies
    Dinner tables
Even though it may feel awkward and impractical.

We know that the diversity of the people of the world is a good gift
For our growth and edification;
To help us see your vision for the world
Where there are neither slave nor free,
Male nor female,
One race nor the other;
But we are all free, beloved, and united
In the peace of Christ Jesus.

Amen

Litany for Gender Equality (part 1: Lament and Hope)

This litany has been a long time coming. This is part one of a series on gender equality. Here is the prayer for the women's voices: Lament, and Hope for Moving Forward.

God, hear our lament now:
We have been meek.
We have done our duty.
We have cared for children and husbands and aging parents and sick folks.
We have cooked and cleaned and tended livestock and gardens.
We are ready for more.

We have been first to your birth, and first to your tomb.
We have been paid less for more work.*
We have been beaten and imprisoned for asserting our rights.
We have been abused, then shunned for divorcing our abusers.
We have been raped, then blamed for our own trauma.
We have been blamed for the sins of men, indeed the sins of the world.
We have let our dreams die because we were told it was your will.
We have been told No so many times that we have stopped asking for permission.

We have been sold; but you are telling us our worth
We have been soiled; but you are washing us anew.
We have been silenced; but you are giving us a voice.
We have been hidden; but you see us.

(ALL:) You have always seen us.

We see you:
Making room for us at the table,
Opening our mouths to speak,
Strengthening our hearts,
Educating our minds,
Honoring our martyrs.

(ALL:) You are redeeming us.

Even now equality is making glorious progress in the world,
     expanding along with the Kingdom of God.
Even now strong women are rising up to make change,
     to lead, to correct, to work for peace.
Even now men and women are working together,
     each acknowledging their need for the others’ perspective.
Even now more places are being set at the table,
     for the inclusion of women alongside men,
     slave and free,
     young and old,
     every nation and language,
     every background and gift-mix.
(ALL:) Hallelujah! Thanks be to God!

We partner with you, Living God,
To remake hierarchy into equality.
To replace violence with peace.
To remake retribution into kindness.
To abolish comparison and celebrate uniqueness.
To transform weakness into strength.
To transform fear into confidence.
To replace apathy with assertiveness.
To replace exploitation with justice.
To replace oppression with mercy.

Make of us strong leaders and wise advocates;
Hands that work for justice, and voices that speak truth,
Students that dig deeply, and priests that call upon your presence.

Amen

*Right now, women in the U.S. are paid, on average, 80 cents on the dollar compared to men.

Litany for Confession

I’m gradually waking up to the understanding that my greatest and most pervasive sin is lack of compassion, which is to say, lack of love. Sometimes it looks like apathy. Sometimes it looks like pride. Sometimes disgust. Sometimes hurried-ness and preoccupation. Sometimes it looks like laziness. Sometimes it looks like blindness. Sometimes it looks like somebody else’s problem.

It’s all the same thing, the same root cause: a lack of compassion in my heart, a seed that fell among thorns (1). There wasn’t enough compassion to move me. There wasn’t enough to get me to DO anything. Because true compassion MOVES; and true compassion DOES.

If I were sitting with you over wine or coffee I could tell you a lot of stories about a lot of missed opportunities. A lot of times I didn’t say hello, didn’t open the door, didn’t call or send a note , didn’t pull over on the side of the road, didn’t rifle my purse for cash to put in a cup, didn’t want to get up early or stay up late, didn’t want to give up some luxury, didn’t see whatever pain was right under my nose. Didn’t go, didn’t do, didn’t move. A lot. More than I want to think about.

I prayed for a friend the other day who has a long-standing health issue and I felt the compassion of God toward her. She expressed frustration with this. Why should she care if God has compassion toward her if it leaves her in pain all the time? What good does God’s compassion do if she’s not healed of her affliction? I resonate with her frustration--that’s hard.

But how about if I turn that mirror on myself: what does my compassion do? Does it feed hungry people? Does it lament alongside folks who are grieving? Does it care for orphans and lonely folks? Does it speak encouraging words? Does it make peace? Does it foster equality and work for justice? Does it grow legs and walk around? Do I embody it?

Usually not. And sometimes it smacks me in the face, but mostly I get away with it.

Note: I have written this litany in first person because it is my personal prayer. If you want to pray it too, go ahead. It could easily be adapted for congregational use by changing “I” and “my” to “we” and “our."

God,
I have sinned against you in thought, and word, and deed;
In things I have done,
But mostly in things I have left undone.
I have not loved you with my whole heart.
I have not loved my neighbor as I love myself (2).

Half the time, I haven’t even realized my neighbor was there.

You were thirsty and I didn’t give you a drink.
You were naked and I didn’t clothe you (3).

I have gone around blind,
Preoccupied,
Self-absorbed,
Lazy,
Prideful.

I have blamed it on
Family responsibilities
Lack of time
Not my problem
My smallness (4).
Fear of doing it wrong.

If compassion is a seed, then I am the thorny soil (5).

Forgive me, Oh God,
According to your mercy.
According to your great compassion
Blot out all my iniquity (6).  

I have nothing to offer you
Except a broken and contrite heart (7).
Remake my heart out of love,
And let love be the heart of my life.

Amen

1. Parable of the sower, Matthew 13

2. This language is adapted from the Prayer of Confession from the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer.

3. Matthew 25:35,36

4. Desmond Tutu said, “Do your little bit of good where you are; it's those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.”

5. See item (1)

6. Psalm 51:9

7. Psalm 51:17
   
    

Litany for Spending Money

I’ve been going through Luke, and writing prayers each week for a few months now, and it has been a fruitful spiritual practice. To take the words of Jesus and inhale them so deeply that a congregational prayer may breathe out - well, I recommend it. Read Jesus, then pray about what he says: a formula for transformation.

The discussion has primarily been about money and possessions, about how difficult it is to have them and also participate authentically in the Kingdom of God as it was begun by Jesus. We are forced, in some ways, to acknowledge our disadvantages. We are at a disadvantage because we live in the U.S., and are by and large not debilitatingly poor; and it is the poor to whom the Kingdom is given (1). So by being born in an affluent nation with access to clean water and cheap food and clothing and the internet and iphones, we have to admit that our starting line is farther back; closer to that, say, of the Pharisees, if we’re counting.

When I admit that, I start to see the baggage that comes with it all. I wonder how to simplify. I wonder how to live well and prophetically in this culture and economy. I’ve talked before about all the ways we vote, and it’s an idea I tend to come back to. We have money (or at least we have credit) and we have to use it to survive so how can we use it to help the world survive as well? How can we spend money well, in a way that goes with the grain of the Kingdom of God and not against it?

I have a few ideas. First we can routinely give it away, as much as we can stand to. We can give it to our home churches, and to organizations that do good work, that feed hungry folks and fight injustice and care for orphans. I’ve even started keeping singles in my mom-mobile and giving them away to every panhandler I see at any intersection I pass (2).

Second, we can spend less and buy less unnecessary crap we don’t need so that we have more to give away and more to invest so we can give it away in the future. This is stewardship (3).

Third, we can think about what we are buying when we buy it. Are we supporting sweat-shop slavery when we buy fast-fashion? Are we supporting a sustainable food economy that cares for the earth and the health of the humans it feeds? Are we feeding our bodies in a way that creates health and peace in them? Are we supporting brands that pay workers a fair and living wage? Are we supporting companies that exploit people, animals, and the environment? Are we making peace with our dollar-votes?

These are questions I’m asking myself, and questions I think we have a responsibility to ask if we are trying to honor Jesus with our money. I don’t expect to ever do this perfectly. I don’t expect to ever have a leg to stand on to criticize how another person spends his or her money. I expect to spend the rest of my life on this earth trying to be faithful with money, failing and trying, failing and growing.

God of Love and Light,
Our whole lives on this earth, we must interact with money.
We acknowledge that whatever money we have, it’s because you have given it.
We acknowledge that with it comes responsibility.
We acknowledge that with it comes opportunity for doing good.

Help us in our weakness.
Help us when we are tempted to idolize money.
     We want to honor you above all.
Help us when we are tempted to be self-serving and ungenerous.
     We want your generous heart to beat within us.
Help us when we are tempted to gratify ourselves with false consolation.
     We want to be comforted by your presence.
Help us when we are tempted to become miserly and joyless.
     We want to enjoy the fruits of our work, and of the earth.
Help us when we are tempted to be apathetic toward the people who produce the things we buy.
     We want to care for those who are unseen.
Help us when we are tempted to be apathetic toward our own body- and soul-health.
     We want to glorify you in our bodies and care for them as temples.

May we be forces for good in this world,
Courageously examining the consequences of all we do, all we consume.
May we invest in treasures that last, both in this world and beyond it.
May we become peace-makers and peace-purchasers.
As you yourself are our peace (4),
So may we be the peace of the world.

Amen

1. Matthew 5:3

2. Matthew 5:42 “Give to anyone who asks of you.” I’m not mentioning this as a pat-myself-on-the-back. I’m sharing a practical idea of a way that scripture might come alive in our daily lives.

3. Matthew 25:14-30, the Parable of the Steward

4. Ephesians 2:14