Palm Sunday, Year B (2021): Litany for the Humble Way

The bulk of my work can be accessed via Patreon
Patreon helps me make this work sustainable.
Thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.
Attribution guidelines are here.

---

In Jesus, all of our ideas about glory, royalty, exclusivity, and honor get up-ended. People project all kinds of notions onto him, and he just proceeds with his work healing and preaching his message.

One minute (in last week’s text) he’s talking about how it's time for him to be “glorified” - when what he means is not exactly our ideal glory: death. As opposed to, say, winning military battles or wearing fancy priest robes. And the next minute (in this week’s Palm Sunday text) he’s playing the people’s game, riding into the city on an unbroke donkey. I can imagine him sortof shrugging like, “guess we’re doing this now.”

See, based on his actions here I don’t get the idea that he feels like he needs to be worshipped. He’s trailed by a crowd due to the fact that he’s just raised Lazarus from the dead* but he’s not letting it go to his head or calling attention to himself. He chooses the most lowly of pack animals. He seems happy with paltry palm fronds for offerings. His ego doesn’t require trumpets. He’s the most willing to get down and dirty with lonely and sick people in the streets and byways. I hear his main message as “God’s community is right here for you to join up with” and not “worship me I’m the king of the world.”

And I wonder how often we are getting this wrong: thinking Jesus needs to be put on a pedestal and worshipped rather than learned from and followed. I wonder how often we are that crowd, projecting our need for a loud and rowdy to-do onto Jesus, rather than plugging into the new way of being that he’s embodying and trying to help us wake up to.

God, we witness Christ in the scriptures
Embodying healing love,
Preaching the nearness of God,
Walking along the Path of Peace….

Lent 5, Year B 2021: Litany for Embracing Change

In this week’s gospel text from John 12, Jesus shares the metaphor of the seed undergoing burial in the ground and death - death of its season of existence as a seed - so that it might become the “glorified” version of itself: the full grown wheat plant that bears fruit for nourishment. The “fruit” being more wheat seeds, and so the cycle continues. The wheat is continually undergoing transformation from one state of being to another: seed, sprout, seedling, mature plant, seed..

Jesus says that he must pass through this similar experience, which he then allows his physical body to undergo: the “seed” of his physical body, he says, must be buried so that it can be transformed into a more glorious state and make way for more cycles. He tells us that this is the nature of things on earth: change, transformation, cycles, rhythms. To resist this is to resist life, and he says as much in verse 25: “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

We participate in eternity by our non-resistant participation in these divine rhythms. We become immortal by not resisting death. What a paradox, hey!

The Psalmist prays to be changed - to be cleansed, washed, purged, transformed, and to be made more fundamentally joyful (Psalm 51:7,8). They pray for their old patterns to die and be replaced: “Create in me a clean heart, and put a new and right spirit within me.”

Lent is our opportunity to create the intention of embracing the death that is naturally part of change and transformation. By embracing change, we embrace death, and by embracing death we embrace life.

God, we behold the cycles of nature,
Understanding that change is the constant -
The release of the old to make way for the new,
The acceptance of death to make way for new life….

Lent 4, Year B 2021: Litany for Alignment with Christ

In Jesus’ late-night conversation with Nicodemus we receive John’s famous (and much-romanticized (1) ) remembrance of Jesus’ words: “For God so loved the world that God gave God’s only son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” They beg the question: what does it mean to “believe in him”?

Professor Samuel Cruz of UTS says this:

“ It is therefore necessary to ask some pertinent questions of him and/or this gospel lesson: What does believing in him (Jesus) mean? Why did Jesus need to come into the world? Was it because of sin? If indeed Jesus came to the world to save it from sin, what kind of sin? For John, sin seems to be concrete and structural (that is injustice, hate, lack of mercy, etc.) rather than individualistic….Therefore, for John, believing in Jesus has more to do with what people believe regarding evil, hate, exploitation, and injustice rather an esoteric “religious” conversion.”

I have left writing this installment of this year’s lent series until last, precisely because this verse, over-simplified and over-romanticized, gives such trouble to the modern reader, especially one who has begun any sort of deconstruction from dogmatic or superficial theological interpretation. But Professor Cruz’s words give me hope that we might be able to figure out what it means to truly believe in Christ, to align ourselves with his values, to take up his mission and purpose, to accept his invitation into a new way of being in the world that then becomes ours too. Hope that we might be able, in Western Christianity, to go beyond a flippant or surface-level reading of this passage and allow it to lead us to our true selves, re-creating the world as we go.

God, here in this Lenten season, we slough off all that distracts us,
All that doesn’t serve heaven’s cause,
All that is not aligned with the highest good,
All that keeps us from becoming our truest selves:
Inheritors of the riches of God’s grace,
Adopted and beloved siblings with Christ…

Lent 3, Year B 2021: Litany for the Inner Sanctuary

The bulk of my work can be accessed via Patreon
Patreon helps me make this work sustainable.
Thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.
Attribution guidelines are here.

---

When Christ turned over the tables of the sellers and money-changers in the temple, he declared that productivity culture has no business in the inner sanctuary of God. God is not about consumption or production. The inner life is a closed-loop: we are divinely resourced and divinely Allowed. We can turn our attention away from pressure to Do, and Produce, and toward the opportunity to Rest, Be, Dwell. There is nothing to prove, nothing to win, nothing to achieve, nothing to earn. All we need has been achieved for us. Cycles of sacrifice ended with Christ’s work - he completed them and we no longer need to play them out.

This theme also comes to us in the Exodus passage. The people are instructed to observe a Sabbath, to remember it, and “keep it holy.” One day out of every seven is reserved for rest and resistance to productivity culture, resistance to exhaustion, to remind them (and us) that our worth is not our work. Even resting, accomplishing nothing, producing nothing, only receiving and allowing, we are worthy, beloved, whole. 

This doesn’t mean we don’t participate in economies and systems while we are here on earth. It means we don’t identify ourselves with them. They are not us. Our work, our doing, is not us. And it means that the Inner Sanctuary is always available to us - the place of rest and peace, of acceptance and being.

God, we feel the pull of the Inner Sanctuary
We are drawn in by your love and beauty, 
Into the welcome and peace of Spirit.
The true temple, the dwelling place of God, is within us …

Lent 1, Year B, 2021: Litany for the Wilderness

The bulk of my work can be accessed via Patreon
Patreon helps me make this work sustainable.
Thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.
Attribution guidelines are here.

---

Oh! Here’s the Baptism account I was telling you about last week! Right here for us all to contemplate again. Jesus is baptized, then heads out to the desert to take care of some inner work. There aren’t but 2 sentences dedicated to Mark’s description of Jesus going to the desert. Matthew and Luke give Jesus in the desert more airtime, noting that he fasted and prayed in the desert, but Mark only stresses the point that he was tempted by Satan and cared for by angels. John (the non-synoptic one) doesn’t mention any of this at all.

(Aside: So, 2 out of 4 gospels give us THE WHOLE SEASON OF LENT? I find this funny; you’d think all four gospels would need to agree in order to justify creating a *whole liturgical season.*)

The Catholic Vatican Council II identifies two central elements of the season of Lent:

• Baptism: either recalling it or preparing to undergo it

• Penance

In other words the spirit of the season, as they imagine it, is that it is an extended ritual of purification and preparation. Which, as I mentioned last week, all wisdom traditions (that I know of) contain. 

We wash ourselves, and then we let the desert dry us off. That arid, sandy ground; empty, nowhere for longing to hide. So dry and desperate it cracks open. 

Jesus went out to the desert wilderness; but in my experience, the desert often comes to us. And the desert is what has my attention just now. I am thinking of that solitary expanse. The harshness of it, but also the beauty. I am thinking of how resonant Jesus’ expedition there is to me just now; Mark says the “Spirit drove him” there (NRSV). I am thinking of the circumstances in my own life that drive me to someplace bleak and essential, where the only thing for me to focus on is my own longing, my own thirst. And where I must overcome the temptation to resort to *any old thing* to relieve me of the discomfort of existing there.

When the waters of my baptism have evaporated off me, I recall them with yearning. Yet. When I’m dry as dust, and I am distilled down to my essence, there comes an opportunity for new clarity. The desert can teach me why I’m on this journey anyway.

And here is our invitation: to accept the desert. To not go the long way ‘round. To experience it and feel it - the hunger and the cold and the scorching sun and the desperate thirst - and allow it to show us who we are, and to prepare us for the real work we are here to do.

God, as Christ goes out into the wilderness
To experience solitude
To refrain from distraction,
To be tempted to escape discomfort;
So we find ourselves, at times, in a similar place:
Whether we chose to go there or not….

Lent 5 (Year A): Litany for Living By Spirit

Hi! In 2019 I moved much of my work over to Patreon
as part of my effort to make this work sustainable.
So thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.

---

The Lectionary this week is juicy juicy. Lazarus, the valley of Dry Bones, Romans 8, Psalm 130.  If you are searching for a litany tailored to the Ezekiel passage, please see Litany for Dry Bones. 

I take some issue with the greek SARKI in Romans 8 being translated as “in the flesh” or “on the flesh.” Not because I think it’s wrong; more that I think it’s just not enough. Not a big enough word. Not robust enough language. Strong’s says SARKI means “flesh, body, human nature, materiality.” I think human nature and materiality are getting closer. But as it is, oversimplified, I think it props up a harmful dualistic narrative: body is bad, spirit is good. This hasn’t done us any favors as embodied beings. 

What if, by “human nature” we mean humanity’s drive for self-preservation, self-satisfaction, and survival at any cost? What if we mean the ego-self, the one that propels us toward safety, separation, and self-sufficiency? What if we mean our tendency to be preoccupied with our bank accounts? Where we thought the contrast was between “flesh and spirit”, what if we are actually being pointed to disconnection vs connection?

Thinking about Romans 8 from this vantage point propels me into a different understanding, one of invitation into a life of Wholeness, Community, and Oneness. An invitation to drop our ego-needs (rightness, judgement, never-enough scarcity), and take up Spirit priorities: sacredness, service, generosity, abundance, love.

God, your Spirit dwells in us.
The Spirit of Christ is within us (1).
We turn away from self-preservation and survival
As our primary motivations;And toward unity, connectedness and service
As our foundation. 

Lent 4 (Year A): Litany for Mud and Spit

Hi! In 2019 I moved much of my work over to Patreon
as part of my effort to make this work sustainable.
So thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.

---

Sometimes, like now, we have to endure mud and spit so that we can have our eyes opened and receive light in them. The very essentials of earth and humanity spread across our field of vision, that we may become unblinded. 

When this happens, we have choices: we can scoff at the method, ignore it, resist it. (Gross! Inconvenient! Unneccesary!). Or. We can see it as the love it is. Surrender. Practice gratitude. 

We are in a moment of apocalypse here on this planet. (Apocalypse meaning “revealing”.) Our fragility and vulnerability revealed. In our privilege we are convinced of our invulnerability. We put our faith in economic forces and our physical capabilities to keep us safe and insulated from hardship, only to learn that they are easily toppled by the most base and microscopic of single celled* foes. 

The best part about the story in John 9, of the man born blind whom Jesus heals with “mud and saliva”, is the new level of agency the previously blind man seems to step into. He speaks for himself. He decides to follow Christ. He stands up to bullies. He testifies to the Christ (John 9:33). 

So. We may be whirling. We may feel anxious. But we have an opportunity to have faith in the Light, to regard our new level of seeing as a gift. Because we know that “...Everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, "Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." (Ephesians 5:13,14)

God, we know that Christ has come into the world
So that those who are un-seeing might see,
And so that we who are certain of our perspective,
Might have our spiritual blindness revealed ...

Palm Sunday (Year C): Litany for Shouting Stones

Hi! As you may have noticed,
I’ve moved much of my work over to Patreon.
This is part of my effort to make 2019 a #yearofwritingsustainably
So thanks for reading and subscribing.

---

This week is Palm Sunday, and the Lectionary offers two options. I'm using Liturgy of the Palms references for this prayer. Enjoy, and if you have a second, please let me know how this Lent series has gone for you and your community. Thanks!

God, we throw down our cloaks
And raise up shouting praise
Because of the beauty of Christ
And his deeds of power …

Find my book of congregational litanies on Amazon. And follow along via instagram @thelitanist

Lent 5 (Year C): Litany for Wilderness

Hi! As you may have noticed,
I’ve moved much of my work over to Patreon.
This is part of my effort to make 2019 a #yearofwritingsustainably
So thanks for reading and subscribing.

---

This week's litany follows along with the Lectionary texts for week 5 of Lent. A strong theme of wilderness, persistence, and joyful homecoming threads through these texts. I hope you're all leaning in to the Lenten journey in some way this year - letting the wilderness Christ leads you into shape your soul and your practice, offering you a new way of being. 

In Lent, we follow Christ out to wilderness places.
We deny ourselves the comforts that numb us.
We rid ourselves of the distractions that consume us.
We stand aside to let you realign us to your way…

Thanks for following along. If you haven’t grabbed a copy of my book, may I suggest that it makes a great Easter gift :) Also, I’m on instagram @thelitanist ! come join in the contemplative fun going on there! Much love to all you readers and pray-ers out there embodying Divine Love and Light.

f

Lent 4 (Year C): Litany for Wandering

Hi! As you may have noticed,
I’ve moved much of my work over to Patreon.
This is part of my effort to make 2019 a #yearofwritingsustainably
So thanks for reading and subscribing.

---

Hey friends!
Before I get into the litany for this week, I want to say thank you thank you thank you for being on this journey with me. March has been the biggest month ever for me in terms of new patrons, and I am so stinking grateful. Welcome to new friends in this space! May it be a blessing to you! May it throw you a life-raft on a sinking day! May it jolt you with encouragement in a distressing moment! May it offer you sustenance when you're empty! Amen, Amen. Also, thanks for your patience while I was on vacation last week. After a rough month, I needed the break to stoke my curiosity and creativity, and hallelujah the LORD provides.

Ok, this week's Lectionary is juicy! The prodigal son. Psalm 32. The beautiful "new creation" language in 2 Corinthians 5. Week 1 we explored Weakness, week 2 Loneliness, week 3 Longing, and now Wandering. (preview: next week we're pondering "Wilderness.) So basically the hard parts of the life of faith. Which is what Lent is for - uncovering our blindness, exposing our need and vulnerability, urging us toward repentance. It's not supposed to be fun, but it is necessary for our growth.

God, like the prodigal son we have wandered far
From Love’s Center (1).
We are prodigal children,
All of us…

Also, if you’re unsure how to properly attribute a litany when you’re using it congregationally, please check out this post. And if you haven’t already snagged a copy for yourself, a minister, or a friend, you can purchase my book here. 

May you find more joy, peace, and love during your Lenten journey.
Fran

Lent 3 (Year C): Litany for Longing

Hello all.  I'll be on spring break vacation with my family next week and away from my desk. So here is next week's Lent litany. Leaning into the longing of the Lenten Lectionary :) 

O God, you are our God,
We seek you, our souls thirst for you;
Our flesh faints for you,
As in a dry and weary land where there is no water. (1)

Lent 1 (Year C): Litany for Weakness

Hi! As you may have noticed,
I’ve moved much of my work over to Patreon.
This is part of my effort to make 2019 a #yearofwritingsustainably
So thanks for reading and subscribing.

---

I got waylaid by a terrible flu for the last 7 days. And still my brain is not entirely online. I find it so interesting how the Lectionary seems to coincide with my own real-life events. Here I have been in a fog of weakness, reliant on help from others just to get through. And the Lectionary brings me this story.

In Luke’s account of the temptation of Christ, we see Christ refute the devil’s efforts at getting him to “prove” himself. If you make bread from stones, you’ll show us all. If you worship me I’ll make them know your authority. If you jump off the temple room, the angels will be forced to carry you, and everyone will know you’re the real deal.

Isn’t this what we are always feeling like we have to do as humans? Prove ourselves? We feel like we have to prove that we’re strong, or invincible, or in control, or knowledgeable, or, at the very least NOT WEAK. I can tell you I have had not one shred of control over anything in the last week. Every plan canceled. Every intention thwarted. Every task put off.

And Jesus refuses the whole game. He goes willingly to the physical weakness of hunger and deprivation. He goes willingly to the vulnerability of harsh desert. He doesn’t retreat to a well-stocked fortress, but an empty wasteland of weakness.

I guess this is a lesson we learn from Lent: that weakness is strength. That proving ourselves is a game the ego plays, not the Christ-consciousness.

Oh God, we come to Lent to face ourselves:
Our desperate need to prove our worth,
Our hunger for reputation, wealth, and influence;
Our ego’s power over us…

Lent 5 (Year B): Litany for Losing

Today's litany comes from the Lectionary text in John 12 for week 5 of Lent (Year B).


God, it’s an upside-down, unexpected world you’ve made.
We can’t assume we understand anything.
Your imagination is unfathomable;
We can spend our whole lives exploring your ways.

To gain status
We must become lowly.
To grow up
We must root down.
To be glorified
We must embrace death. (John 12:24)
To gain life
We must lose it. (John 12:25)
To gain assurance
We must embrace paradox.

We all face loss in this life:
   Loss of loved ones
   Loss of status
   Loss of fortune
   Loss of certainty
In loss we choose: hope or misery.

For in your unfathomable mystery, what was lost
Is found.
What was buried in death
Is planted.
What was useless
Is glorified.
What was old
Is new.
What was hopeless,
Is full of possibility.

Help us to remember the hopelessness of Christ
As he lay in the tomb;
How in his stillness, in his loss,
Lay the seeds of life.

Amen

Lent 2 (Year B): Litany for Memento Mori

A few months ago I purchased an ornamental skull and hung it on a wall. It’s gilt, and made to look like the skull of some kind of bull. I didn’t really know why I did this, except that there was something about the skull that was compelling to me; something edgy but true. In other words I didn’t do this strictly for decorative reasons. I hung it in the bathroom, which freaked the children out a little, but now everyone sees the skull whenever they do the business that living people do.

Weeks later I learned, quite by accident (from Sister Theresa Aletheia on twitter), about the ancient tradition of Memento Mori (1), Latin for “remember death.” It’s the practice of intentionally remembering that death is unpredictable and imminent, to remind us to live well, do what matters, not waste time on vanities. Many people practice Memento Mori by keeping a skull in view, so that they are reminded to live well whenever they see it. I had inadvertently stumbled into my own Memento Mori practice.

So this is what I thought of when I read this week’s Lectionary reading from Mark 8. Jesus informs his followers that he will have to endure suffering, rejection, and death; and then after that he’ll rise again. Some of the apostles, particularly Peter, just can’t deal with this idea. I can just hear him: "What’s this about death? Death has no part of this equation we are working on here! Death is far away, an abstract idea! We don’t have to think about that now! How humiliating that you would even think of letting death take you, Jesus!" And Jesus rebukes Peter, telling him that in his utter denial of death having any part in the narrative, he is “setting [his] mind not on divine things but on human things” (2).

In the season of Lent we are invited to remember our mortality, and our immortality. We are given permission to contemplate what is humanly (but not divinely) considered morbid. We begin by admonishing one another: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” And we end by celebrating the life that comes after the dust, after the death.

God, we know from the narratives and themes within scripture
That the road to life is fraught with death
That the road to safety is fraught with peril
That the road to light is fraught with darkness.

We know from the narratives and themes within nature
That to get to spring we pass through winter.
That to get fertile soil, there must be compost and decay.
That to get to bloom we pass through buried seed.

We know from the narratives and themes within our own lives
That mistakes and failures teach us
That wisdom comes from experience, and often from hardship and loss
That growing up means learning hard lessons.

Death follows us everywhere we go in this life.
Nothing living is immune.

As Christ went down to death for three days
So we must follow:
Down, past death
    Death to self (3)
    Death to assumption
    Death to expectation
    Death to control
We are brought low by this humility.

And in turn, out past death we find a mystery:
What we thought was lost is found (4).
Death has hatched something altogether new:
Glorious life!

So, we accept our mission:
To live well,
To face death,
And learn the lesson of resurrection.

Amen

1. More info about Memento Mori

2. Mark 8:33

3. Mark 8:34

4. Mark 8:35
   
   
   *If you or your congregation are regular users of the work here at franpratt.com, please consider becoming a patron.

Lent 5 (Year A): Litany for Dry Bones

This week's Lectionary readings contain the accounts of Ezekiel's vision of a valley of dry bones, and of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. I've also included elements from Romans 8 and Psalm 130.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
And in his word I hope;
My soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning,
More than those who watch for the morning. (1)

You free us from our graves (2)
And the traps our minds set for us. (3)
You free us from the constant hell of our own egos and deceptions,
And show us the path of peace.

You breath the breath of life into us (4)
And give life to our bodies through your Spirit. (5)
Come from the four winds, O breath,
And breathe upon us, that we may live. (4)

Where there was once a tame breeze
There is a wind.
Where there was once a valley of dry bones
There is a multitude of life.

Our bones were dried up;
Our hope was lost. (6)
But we hope in the LORD! For with the LORD there is steadfast love,
And great power to redeem. (7)

1) Psalm 130:5,6
2) Ezekiel 37:12
3) Romans 8:6,7
4) Ezekiel 37:9
5) Romans 8:11
6) Ezekiel 37:11
7) Psalm 130:7

Lent 4 (Year A): Litany for Blindness

This litany incorporates the New Testament readings from this week's Lectionary passages: when Jesus heals a man born blind in John 9, and a section of Ephesians 5. I am particularly captivated by the image of Jesus smearing mud on the man's face as part of the healing. I think there's all kinds of goodness in that image if we look for it.
 

God, we understand that sometimes, before our eyes can see, they must get muddy.
The mud is a crucial step: Jesus working on us.
We can’t know sight until we’ve tried to see through mud. (1)
We must realize our blindness, and admit it.

The blindness itself isn’t our sin.
It’s pretending we can see when we can’t that is harmful.
It’s judging the mud of others to be worse than our own that sets us back.
It’s being dishonest about our blindness that displeases You. (2)

To all the ways we’ve been blind to our own true selves,
Open our eyes, Oh God.
To all the ways we’ve been blind to the suffering of others,
Open our eyes, Oh God.
To all the ways we’ve been blind to and complicit in our society’s brokenness,
Open our eyes, Oh God.
To all the ways we’ve been blind to the sacredness of human beings,
Open our eyes, Oh God.
To all the ways we’ve been blind to your invitation and calling in our lives,
Open our eyes, Oh God.
To all the ways we’ve been blind to the way of your kingdom coming, now and not-yet,
Open our eyes, Oh God.

We want to live as children of light. (3)
We want to learn what pleases You.  (4)
We want light shined on the deepest recesses of our beings,
So that all that is hidden may become visible. (5)

Amen

1. John 9:11

2. John 9:41

3. Eph 5:8

4. Eph 5:10

5. Eph 5:13

Lent 3 (Year A): Litany for Living Water

Here are the Lectionary passages for the third Sunday of Lent, Year A.

O come, let us sing to the LORD;
Let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation. (1)

You have proven yourself faithful over and over again.
You give us water for our thirst.
We are the people of your pasture, the sheep of your hand (2)
You give us food for empty bellies.

In every difficulty, you reveal yourself to us and give us good things:
From suffering comes endurance,
From endurance comes character,
From character comes hope,
And hope does not disappoint us,
Because your love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. (3)

Your love is living water for our hearts (4),
An unending source of life.
You give to us freely, as family.
You prove your love for us:
Even when we were still caught up in sin and distance from you,
Christ died for us, bringing us near. (5)

O come, let us worship and bow down,
Let us kneel before the LORD, our Maker. (6)

Amen

(1) Psalm 95:1
(2) Psalm 95:7
(3) Romans 5:3-5
(4) John 4:10
(5) Romans 5:8

(6) Psalm 95:6

Lent 2 (Year A): Litany for Grace and Rebirth

This litany incorporates the Lectionary readings for the Second Week of Lent (Year A). They're not easy ones. They contain concepts whose interpretation theologians have debated for centuries: "Faith vs Works" and the question of what it means to be "born again." These questions and ideas have sparked prolonged and intense debate among various sects of the faith. No wonder it's hard to write a prayer that everyone can pray surrounding these passages, one that is able to hold the tension and explore it.  Tricky business.

We lift our eyes up to the hills. Where does our help come from?
Our help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth.
The Lord is our keeper;
The Lord will keep our lives. (1)

We trust in the Lord, who justifies the ungodly. (2)
We are the ungodly, the lowly;
But the Lord is gracious to us,
And our trust is counted as righteousness. (3)
By faith we are reborn in the Spirit (4):
     New vision
     New ways of thinking,
     New power to accomplish good work.

For the Son of God has shined his face on us
With glorious light (5);
And the Lord has given us the gift of favor.
His promise rests on grace.

To accept the gift of grace
Help us, Oh God.
To trust in you
Help us, Oh God.
To turn away from evil and toward the goodness of Christ
Help us, Oh God.
To produce fruit that comes from vibrant faith
Help us, Oh God.

Amen

(1) Psalm 121
(2) Romans 4:5
(3) Romans 4:3
(4) John 3:6
(5) Matthew 17:2

Lent 1 (Year A): Litany for Abundance

Be glad in the Lord, O Righteous
Shout for joy, all you upright in heart. (1)

The free gift of God is offered to you:
Abundance of grace and life (2)
Through the obedience of the person
Jesus Christ, our Lord.

As Christ fasted in the desert forty days and forty nights and faced temptation (3),
So we set aside a season of fasting and acknowledging temptation:
A discipline which reminds us of our need for God
And draws us closer to Christ

So many things pull at us:
     Power and wealth
     Vengeance and self-protection
     Comfort and ease
Things which draw us away from doing the work of Christ in the world
But steadfast love surrounds us (4)
We confess our transgressions to you
And you forgive us (5)
In the midst of self-denial
We find this abundance of love.

Be glad in the Lord, O Righteous
Shout for joy, all you upright in heart.

(1) Psalm 32:11
(2) Romans 5:17
(3) Matthew 4:2
(4) Psalm 32:10
(5) Psalm 32:5
 

Lent Series: Litany for Good Friday, "Death"

Great God, we acknowledge that we are not always able to recognize Your ways as good
We confess that we are, at times, confounded;
As on Good Friday, when we commemorate the death of one so dear to us
The Savior, Christ the King.

As a seed must pass through death to sprout new life,
So Jesus Christ has passed into death.
Taking the nature of a human, a servant
He made himself nothing
He humbled himself by becoming obedient to death
Even death on a cross!

For three days, we wait with him, for death to accomplish its purpose;
For Christ’s sacrifice to be made meaningful;
For Christ to re-imagine death.
We grieve, even while we are hopeful.

We wait, and as the stones seal Christ’s body in the tomb, even then we say:
“Oh Death, Where is Your sting? O Grave, Where is your victory?”
And we acknowledge Your good way, the confounding way of obedience to death
That brings us toward Life and Hope.

Amen