Lenten Intercessory Prayers (based on John 9:1-41)

“Let us pray to the Lord” (pastor)    

“Lord, have mercy” (congregation)

O God of Light  … For the opening of the eyes and hearts of the people of faith during our Lenten walk with the One who is the Light of the world.  For our individual response to Jesus’ question, “Do you believe in the Son of Man”… let us pray to the Lord. 

Lord, have mercy

O God of the Downtrodden… For those who have too long been judged by their pasts. For those who have never seen the goodness of others.  For those who have been marginalized and overlooked along the dusty roads of their lives.  For those who have been belittled by their differences of abilities.  For those who find themselves begging for light in their darkness …. let us pray to the Lord.

Lord, have mercy

O God of Mercy… For those who are blind to the witness of others. For those who think God’s healing is only for them.  And yes, even for those who seek to discredit the Son of Man … let us pray to the Lord

Lord, have mercy

O God of the Church … For those in leadership who are praying for sight, direction and guidance for the good of the Church.  For their decision-making through you.  For congregations and pastors to grow together for one great and holy purpose … let us pray to the Lord.

Lord, have mercy

O God of our Calling … For the desire within us to become the hands of Christ.  For our willingness to muddy our hands and touch the blindness of others.  For the courage and strength to stand in the face of scoffers and point to your Light in this world …  let us pray to the Lord.

Lord, have mercy

O Listening God … For those prayers which we do not know how to speak, and the prayers we make in the silence of our hearts … let us pray to the Lord.

Lord, have mercy.

(prayers by anna murdock)

"In the Presence of My Enemies"

(Thoughts on a portion of Psalm 23)

You prepared a table before me
in the presence of my enemies
and, at first,
I was nothing more
than a bleating sheep,
unable to understand.

It was when you asked me to help,
O God, that I truly understood ...
or at least understood
in the way that you asked me
to understand.

You handed a chalice to me
from the table you prepared
and whispered, "For all."
I gulped.
"Oh God... really?
For all?"

You whispered again,
"Look into their eyes,
offer to them what I have prepared,
Some might be your enemies,
but none are mine."

And so I stood,
at the end of an aisle,
with chalice in hand
and wept at the thoughts
of my enemies welcomed
to the table
that was prepared for me
in such a generous way.

The table was not mine;
the guest list was not mine;
the chalice never ran dry ...
nor did the grace and mercy.

Once again, I heard,
"Do this in remembrance ...
and remember,
these are not my enemies."

Over and over again,
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies,
and then you say, "All sit ... together."
And still the chalice never runs dry
for those around the table -
not even for me.

(c)2011 anna murdock

"Coming With Questions"

This is my personal encounter (in 1995) with John 3:1-17. As Martin Luther said (in essence), this is the beginning of when I began to daily put on the garment of my baptism.

She stood outside
in the dark
of an August night ...
so uninvited,
so unannounced.

She stood outside
ringing the doorbell,
knocking on the door,
wondering what words
might come from her mouth;
she had no thoughts as to
what sentences,
if any,
might flow.

The pastor opened the door
and welcomed her in ....
even without the fair warning
that he deserved,
he welcomed her in.
His wife pointed to the sofa
yet she chose the floor.
It seemed right
for some reason.

Her first words were,
"I don't know
what has just happened"
and her words continued
to fall into a jumbled,
confused mess.

His words were simply this ....
"Nicodemus.
You remind me
of Nicodemus."
She knew nothing
of this Nicodemus
and was too embarrassed
to ask.

He then picked up a book
and read to her
from the Gospel of John.
The words were
of someone who encountered
this man named Jesus,
in the dark,
alone,
seeking answers
to questions,
yet not understanding.

Her heart beat faster,
for she recognized
this encounter
and this man
named Nicodemus
for this was her encounter
as well.

Her heart beat faster still,
as she heard that
God loved her before ...
before she asked for this Love,
before she admitted to
needing this Love,
before she sought to
understand such a Love,
before she realized that she
wanted this Giving Love.

She knew nothing
of Nicodemus then,
but claims
this encounter now,
for she remembers
the darkness
of a sanctuary
and the Light
that walked in,
so uninvited,
so unannounced
and from her questions
he said to her,
"For God so loves you...."

"Take A Deep Breath"

(Preparing for Ash Wednesday)

Take a deep breath and know that the air we soon will be asked to breathe will be different. Look in the mirror and see a face that is a canvas on which an ashen cross might be drawn. Pause for a moment and remember that we will once again be fitted with new sandals for our forty-day Lenten journey. Yes, let us take a deep breath for we are preparing for the "ifs" and "thens" that will surely be placed before us in these forty days.

There is the smell of ashes awaiting us in dimly lit sanctuaries. Last year’s shouts of hosannas and the sense of excitement that we had as we waved the palms have been reduced to a bowlful of charred remains. Oh, to once again find "hosannas" on our lips and to be filled with a hope that always seeks the Messiah. But a year’s worth of days takes a toll on us, doesn’t it? Our "hosannas" have often been silenced and we lower our heads knowing (but hating to admit) that we have succumbed to the "ifs" and "thens" of the tempter in the wilderness. "Ifs" and "thens" are tempting, sparkling words for sure.

So, let us take a deep breath and prepare to face the "ifs" and "thens" that have made a home in our hearts. Our Lenten journey begins on Ash Wednesday as we carry with us into our sanctuaries all of those "ifs" and "thens". Do I really want to see what I will bring into the sanctuary with me? What an accumulation. Thoughts and attitudes, apathy and omission, all of those temptations that I fell for that eventually came between me and God. What benign words I have used. I don’t really like the word "sin" but it is what it is.

Yes, let’s take a very deep breath. There is a silence in our first moments of Lent that draws us into a time of aloneness. Even in the midst of the others who have entered through the sanctuary doors with us, we will find ourselves alarmingly alone. And then, the silence is broken by the admission of our hearts. "Here I am and this is what has become a burden to me. Here is what I have allowed into my life that clouds your face, O God. I am needy. I am sorrowful. I am incomplete without you completely in my life." For just a moment, all we hear is our own breath and the whispers of our own hearts. My head feels so heavy, bowed as it is. Why is it so difficult to raise.

What will it take for our heads to be lifted once again? Suddenly we are reminded. It is the fire of God’s tremendous love for us, the fire of forgiveness and the fire of God’s saving grace that has provided the ashes for this day of repentance. These promises raise our heads and bring us to our feet. They move us down the aisles. They make us deeply yearn to be marked as God’s own children – beloved and forgiven.

Perhaps it is at this one moment when we gasp instead of merely taking a breath. This very moment is when a pastor cares enough to whisper, "Raise your head and look into my eyes. This is who you are. This is who God is." The sensation of the drawing of an ashen cross lingers long enough for us to be still for a while and then move toward a mirror to see our reflection. Take a deep breath. The reflection is both startling and beckoning. You see, there is a little corner of wilderness reserved for each one of us. The same Spirit who led Jesus into the wilderness will lead us into these forty days of Lent. The same tempter will entice us with "ifs" and "thens". Take a deep breath and prepare for it all. Wilderness air is different. It is the most costly air of all for it is in these upcoming forty days when we will begin to breathe in, once more, what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ in all of its costliness. So, take a deep breath, pray, listen and be steadfast in God’s promises.

(Prayer)
God of our redemption and wilderness journey … Help us to breathe in your Spirit and steadfastness in amounts never before received. We face such enticements by the one who loves to whisper "Ifs" and "thens" into our hearts in very familiar ways. Help us to breathe in the wilderness air and plant our feet firmly in your promises with a recreated heart and a steadfast spirit. We pray for strength and your Presence in our lives for we know that our own days in the wilderness will soon send us resolutely to Jerusalem with Jesus … and that will be much different air to breathe. Amen.