The Well of Life

Come to the well, my love.

Make a cup of your hands.

Scoop up handfuls of liquid silver

shimmering with the sun’s each ray.

Let the coolness

slide down your weary palms and wrists

drenching your arms in gladness.

Let water touch your lips

like the moist kiss of a lover

quenching your parched and lonely

desert soul

where seeds long to be watered.

Taste the sweetness of hope

blossoming on your tongue

singing songs of wonder

speaking words of praise.

Let this sacred wellspring

fill you to the tips of your wiggling toes

dancing on holy ground.

Know this place as your own

your birthright

a divine grace

freely given.

Protect it as if

your life depends on it.

Keep it as pure

as the driven white snows of winter

sparkling as the fragile faith of spring.

For wells can become bitter waters

steeped in poisonous leaves

of petty concerns.

You will know them by their colors:

green envy

yellow cowardice

blood red hatred

the seductive purple of gossip.

If you taste these

spit them out.

Contaminated waters

erode trust

tarnish the truth

rust what is good

destroy what is life giving.

Come to the well of life, my love.

Living waters move

in your blood

the same self stuff as mine.

A sacred trust

whose guardians are named

you

me

we

us

together

one

whole

life.

Come to the well, my love.

Let us be nourished.

 

 

A Prayer for Ferguson

O God of our beautiful and too often troubled world:

We come in this season of Advent, a season when winter’s darkness deepens over us, a season of waiting for the light to return, a season of preparing our hearts for a new birth.

We come in this season with the memory of a Thanksgiving just past, a memory marred by the news from Ferguson, Missouri, news that our human family is broken and divided along lines of race and class, power and privilege.

Our prayers go out to the family of Mike Brown as they grieve their profound loss under the glare of the public eye.

Our prayers go out to the community of Ferguson as they struggle to express their deep rage, the riotous rage of a few that could not be contained by the peaceful protests of the masses. Our prayers are with them as they do the hard work of rebuilding.

Our prayers go out to Darren Wilson, a man whose life has been changed forever, living with the burden of knowing that he ended the life of another human being.

Our prayers go out to law enforcement officers whose work is often hard and lonely. Our prayers go out to them knowing they are caught in systems designed to uphold the status quo, even when the status quo is unjust, systems that rely too heavily on military tactics and the use of deadly force, systems that use incarceration and deadly force disproportionately against people of color. Our prayer is that law enforcement agencies heed the call to reform and transform their practices and policies.

May these dark days be an invitation to examine our own souls. We know that we are conditioned by nature and nurture to seek out the company of those who look like us and to turn away from those who are different. Help us to understand that the roots of racism run through human hearts, including our own.

May we find the courage to speak the truth of our own fear that it may not harden into hate. May we be given the humility to name whatever privilege we may possess, now matter how small or great our privilege may be. May we be granted the wisdom to claim whatever power we may possess and use it not to harm but to heal.

O God of our growing and changing world, may this season of darkness be a fruitful time of gestation, waiting and preparing for the birth of a new way of life, a life filled with peace and justice for everyone.

In the name of all that is holy, we pray.

Amen

This Is My Prayer

Spirit of Life, Spirit of Love, Nameless One of Many Names, whom I humbly dare to name as God –

O, God of our mixed up and tragic world: hear our prayer. The pain of the world is too much with us. We seek to understand the invisible and silent suffering of those, who like Robin Williams and countless others, find life unbearable. Help us to remember that everyone we meet may be carrying a burden we cannot see. When oceans of tears are not enough to wash away our sorrow, comfort us with the sweet balm of forgiveness. When the fog of confusion will not lift, guide us in the ways of reason and compassion.

O, God of our torn and broken world: hear our lamentation. When volcanoes of rage are not enough to stop the gunning down of young black men by police who are caught in systems of militarization and unconscious racism, direct the fires of our passion into actions that heal, not harm. When we are frozen by fear, warm our weary bones with the courage of our convictions.

O, God of our warring and fractious world: hear our plea. Help us to feel the common humanity of our global brothers and sisters — siblings who live in the ominous shadow of warfare. When religious minorities are persecuted harshly, embolden us as kindred spirits to stand firmly with them on the side of love.

O, God of our fragile and beautiful world: hear our hope. Awaken us to the miracle of life. Open our hearts to the wonders and mysteries of our eternal universe. Shake us from our unthinking habits of mindless consumption. Remind us to touch the earth with thanksgiving and reverence.

O, God of our compassionate hearts: hear our intention. In our time of shared silence, may we be filled with loving kindness.