A 'Thy Kingdom Come' Prayer For These Days

God of Grace and Mercy ... the world that you have placed into our care has been shattered by the sounds of gunshots, by the hearts of those who hate, by the sobs of the grieving and by the cries of the world.  What has happened to us?  Have you become a convenience to us, to be called upon only in times such as these?  Have we forgotten the ways of your Love?  Forgive us.  O God, we cry out to you in ways that hardly seem like prayers. Embrace the families and friends of those who have died by the hands of another as well as those who were wounded by those same hands.  Embrace also those who have been wounded by words. Pour out your healing and loving Spirit into their lives and into our world.  Change us ... change us.

Now, as we sit in our silence and even in your moments of silence, our hearts weep with you, O God, and with all those whose lives have forever been changed by hate. We are gasping.  Help us to breathe again. We pray for love and respect to overcome hate and disregard in this world. Move us to look the way of others. Draw us near to one another and even nearer to you. Open our hearts to listen to the stories of others. Open our eyes to see through your Love. Make us your agents of love and peace. We lift our lives and our world to you, God of Love, for we stumble and fall so often in our own efforts. We pray that your kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

"Help Me to Be an Oxymoron" (Luke 10:25-37)

Good Samaritan.

I searched 

and the word

‘oxymoron’

doesn’t appear

in my Bible.

Good Samaritan.

It’s much like 

jumbo shrimp

or freezer burn,

you know.

The two words

don’t seem to go together

for we read

that there is nothing good 

about a Samaritan.

But maybe, just maybe

that which Jesus asks

from each of us

is to become an oxymoron!

Perhaps Jesus' teachings and example

proclaim that two opposites

will become kingdom words.

O God …

help me to be 

an oxymoron.

A generous giver.

A compassionate Christian.

A loving neighbor.

A good Samaritan.

"You Want Me to Say WHAT????" (ponderings on Luke 10:25-37)

My Grandmother Lazenby never said the word 'Vinegar'.  At least my mother can’t remember her ever saying the word.  As grandchildren, we would try to teach her how to say it.  "Say the name RENEGAR, Grandmommy", we would say (knowing that she knew how to say that surname).   "Renegar", she would say, just as pretty as you please.  "Say the name VERNIE", we giggled. "Vernie", she said.   "Now say the word VINEGAR.  Her lips shut tightly and she would look at us. Then she would say, "Sour Stuff" and walk away.  I thought for sure she would say the word 'Vinegar' if I asked.  But noooooo.  She refused, never admitting she couldn't (or wouldn't) and never telling us why.  She just couldn't choke out the word 'Vinegar'.

As I read the interchange between Jesus and the lawyer (with the story of the Good Samaritan thrown into the middle), I feel as if this lawyer is doing what my grandmother did except for a different reason.  The way that Jesus draws the lawyer into answering his own question is masterful.  Then the lawyer tries to put parameters around the word 'neighbor' hoping that Jesus' response would be a comfortable definition of 'neighbor'.

The story of the Good Samaritan, to me, is secondary.  Jesus tells the story and then asks the lawyer another question.  "Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?"

And here is where I can almost hear my grandmother clam up when asked to say 'Vinegar' ... and then says, "Sour Stuff."  Can't you just hear the lawyer answering Jesus? "The Smmmm.  The Sammmmm.  The, the, the ... the one who showed him mercy."  He couldn't even say 'Samaritan'. So why do we think that this lawyer could love a Samaritan if a Samaritan proved to be his 'neighbor'?   Hmmmmmm.

Grandmommy never said 'Vinegar'.  She refused.  I hope that our friend, the lawyer, at least tried to say the word 'Samaritan', tried to look the way of such a neighbor, tried to move toward loving his neighbors.   We don't know beyond Jesus' words of "Go and do likewise".  We can only hope ... for we are more like this lawyer than we would care to admit at times.

"Do What You Were Called To Do!"

In 2004, I spoke during the closing worship service at the PAUMCS National Convention. That evening, over 300 teddy bears from all over the US were placed at the altar for first responders to have in their cars and on their fire trucks for children in trauma situations.

One found its way into my car (one teddy bear, not one first responder… as a matter of clarification!) It had fallen out of a bag of teddy bears and stayed quietly in the trunk of my car for a while. I found the little bear later and much to my surprise, there was a note hidden in a small pouch that was tied around his neck. The note told me the story … it seems that the churches in the UMC Kalamazoo District in Michigan had passed this teddy bear from church to church, praying at each stop for the unknown child who would one day need hugs from this little bear. Yes, the churches gave this bear their hugs to be delivered to a child.

Why this bear jumped out of the bag and found cover in the trunk of my car, I’ll never know. But what I do know is that I have kept him in my apartment for years as a reminder of the goodness and gentleness of such non-threatening hugs from a little bear for an abused child. This little bear that had traveled far and been hugged by many has whispered to me many times, “Pray that a child might go through this day without fear or attack.”

My mother needed a teddy bear to take to her PrimeTimers meeting yesterday. The senior group wanted to give stuffed animals to the speaker who was from the local abused women’s shelter. It is time … it is time for this little bear to do what he was called to do. I fluffed his fur and handed the bear over to Mom. Sigh …as much as I wish that it wasn't so, there is a frightened child somewhere needing a hug from a very special bear.

It’s your time to shine, little bear!  Do what you were called to do!

Trinity Faith (Trinity Sunday, May 22, 2016)

The child stands very small,

hidden in a great tall crowd

of ponderers and speculators,

of those who rename and rework

and those who murmur,

“There is no way. I don’t believe.”

She strains to see

who holds their attention,

who is causing such commotion …

but she cannot see.

Their tallness surrounds her

and their voices attempt to drown out

the one voice she is wanting to hear.

But then she hears …

“Come unto me, little children.”

She seems to be the only child

yet he is looking 

into the faces of all.

The little one squeezes and pushes 

her way through the crowds

who, with feet planted,

are still murmuring,

“There is no way.  I do not believe.”

       

In the clearing … in this place

between the ponderers and naysayers

and the One who said, “Come unto me”,

she finds herself running 

with arms open wide,

as any child would run 

toward Love.

The little one expected an embrace from the One,

 but instead he took her hand and saw the bruise.  

“What happened?” he asked 

(knowing all along that someone had slapped 

her hand for not being a part of 

the renaming and reworking and disbelief). 

Yes, the little one expected a hug from the One,

but she received hugs from the Three …

the One who whispered, “beloved child,” 

the One who healed her tiny bruised hand and

whispered, “Forgive and forgiven,” 

and the One who whispered, 

“I will not leave you as an orphan.”

It was too mysterious, yet enough for her.

She  looked at the huddled-together ponderers

and knew that they saw only the One  

and she herself pondered …

“Is that why he called out,

‘Send the little children to me, 

for such is the kingdom of heaven?’ ”

The child embraced the Three…. 

and those huddled together 

still saw only the One,

and still murmured,

“There is no way.  I do not believe.”

©2010  anna murdock

Why, This Gathering Place? (Pentecost ponderings)

In the one place,

they waited

and prayed

and with

hushed voices,

wondered

why.

Why,

this gathering place?

  

They remembered

the words,“Wait.

Gather together and wait.”

That is what

they had come

together to do -

WAIT.

What was

keeping them

together?

Memories

and murmurs

and questions

filled the room

while waiting 

and Waiting

and WAITING.

They heard

the words

from the One

whose death

and now presence

had moved them

from deepest grief

to bewildering joy -

“Believe in God,

believe also in me.”

It was

slowly becoming

more about

the confidence

in the

continued journey

with him

than the

destination.

Why were they

still in this place?

Why were they waiting?

The puzzle pieces

were falling

into place.

“Whoever has seen me

has seen the Father.”

All that they

had heard 

while with him

became

infallible promises.

WHOOSH!

Their questions

were suddenly answered 

in ways that were

unimaginable to them. 

The Holy Spirit

rested upon them

as tongues of fire.

They were not consumed

but their lives would be

consumed forever.

The Advocate 

made a 

forever-dwelling-place

within each one 

gathered in this place.

HOLY GROUND

REMOVE YOUR SANDALS!

The door is now opened!

The wait is now over!

“Go and tell others!”

YES, LET US ALL GO AND TELL OTHERS!

Ascension - A Longing Prayer

LORD,

I don’t know how

to look at your ascension

in the same way

as the Twelve.

I really don’t.

You see, we don’t 

wear the same sandals

(my walking shoes

are sneakers) 

nor do we have

the same dust

on our clothes.

I haven’t eaten

beside of you

or laughed with you;

I haven’t wept with you

or looked into your eyes.

I haven’t walked with you

in quite the same way, 

questioned as they have,

feared their fears

or stared at your hands 

like they must have

stared at them.

I don’t know how

to look at your ascension

in the same way

as the Twelve,

with the same history

or intimacy.

I really don't.

But what I do know

is that I long for something.

Perhaps it is the same longing

of one of the Twelve.

There are times 

when I sit

in the dark coolness

of the evening

and look heavenward. 

There is a longing

that I don’t fully understand.

There are other times

when I look into the eyes

of everyone

I pass on the street, 

hoping to see you … 

longing to see you

in the faces of others. 

Have you come back to us?

Have I looked into your face?

The longing is there, 

so strong ….

to stand before you

in awe,

to walk with you

and listen,

to be filled

with God’s Spirit 

and be surprised,

to be sent out 

as a most unlikely disciple.

Is that why you ask us

to gather in one place?

Are you telling me that others

have the same longings?

I am bound by earthly thinking

so perhaps I will never 

completely understand

your ascension.

What I am slowly understanding

is that I am not so different

than one of the Twelve.

I just wear different sandals

and have accumulated

different dust

from my journey.

In my anxiousness,

to understand,

O LORD,

I shall wait ... 

yes, I shall 

joyfully wait 

as you have 

asked your 

disciples to do 

for I am one, too.