Fasting

There’s hidden sweetness in the stomach’s emptiness.
We are lutes, no more, no less. If the soundbox
is stuffed full of anything, no music.
If the brain and belly are burning clean
with fasting, every moment a new song comes out of the fire.
The fog clears, and new energy makes you
run up the steps in front of you.
Be emptier and cry like reed instruments cry.
Emptier, write secrets with the reed pen.
When you’re full of food and drink, Satan sits
where your spirit should, an ugly metal statue
in place of the Kaaba. When you fast,
good habits gather like friends who want to help.
Fasting is Solomon’s ring. Don’t give it
to some illusion and lose your power,
but even if you have, if you’ve lost all will and control,
they come back when you fast, like soldiers appearing
out of the ground, pennants flying above them.
A table descends to your tents,
Jesus’ table.
Expect to see it, when you fast, this table
spread with other food, better than the broth of cabbages.

-- Rumi (Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī) (1207-1273), Persian Sufi mystic and poet

Scripture Reference: Isaiah 58:1-12, 5th Sunday After Epiphany A

God is Still Speaking

You speak to us in many ways,
through rushing wind
or still small voice,
in Scripture’s Word
or through your Grace
and we in turn find many ways,
to hear the world’s insistent voice
break through the silence
and take your place.
Forgive our sin.
Help us hear your voice
above the clamour of this world,
recognise the difference
and follow only you.
Amen.

--from Faith and Worship

The Heavens Declare Your Glory: Epiphany Prayer

Leader: The heavens declare your glory
All: And the skies proclaim your handiwork
Morning sun and moon by night
The light and warmth that fuels our life

Leader: The heavens declare your glory
All: And the skies proclaim your handiwork
Rolling hills and mountain peak
Flowing stream and ocean deep

Leader: The heavens declare your glory
All: And the skies proclaim your handiwork
Thunder’s roar and breeze’s whisper
Creation sings to its Creator

Leader: The heavens declare your glory
All: And the skies proclaim your handiwork

From Faith and Worship

Epiphany Call to Worship

The New Dawn will arise upon you.
You shall see and be radiant.
The New Dawn will arise upon you.
The Holy One will bless the people with peace.
The New Dawn will arise upon you.
The joy of the Lord is my strength.
The New Dawn will arise upon you.
All: God is here among us. Let us rejoice and be glad in God's presence.

-- From Seekers Church

Epiphany Prayer, based on Isaiah 43:1-7

The God who breathed this world alive
And sustains it day by day
Whose hands flung stars into space
And controls our destiny
Says, “Do not be afraid, for I am with you.”

The God who filled the ocean depths
And set tides on their way
Who caused mountains to be raised up
And rainbows to display
Says, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”

The God who made the fertile earth
And seed within to sow
Whose artistry creates butterflies
And the early morning dew
Says, “You are precious in my sight.”


--From Faith and Worship

Call to Worship for Epiphany

People of God, arise, shine,
for your light has come!
The light of Christ has come into the world.
Immanuel.
God with us.

So arise, shine, for your light has come!
And we will follow the light–
when it shines brightly in the night sky
when it glows dimly on the horizon.

We will follow the light–
when it leads down familiar paths to expected destinations
when the road is unfamiliar
and the star rests above a dubious-looking home.
We will lift up our eyes and look around.
And when we see the Christ child,
may our hearts be overwhelmed with joy.

When we are in the presence of Immanuel,
may our knees bend in worship.
When our journey brings us, finally, to the heart of God,
May our hands open in generous sharing;
May our mouths open in generous praise.

--Joanna Harader,  posted on the Spacious Faith blog

The Book of Isaiah, pt. 1

Isaiah awoke angry.
Lapping at Isaiah’s ears black birdsong no it was anger.
God had filled Isaiah’s ears with stingers.
Once God and Isaiah were friends.
God and Isaiah used to converse nightly, Isaiah would rush into the garden.
They conversed under the Branch, night streamed down.
From the sole of the foot to the head God would make Isaiah ring.
Isaiah had loved God and now his love was turned to pain.
Isaiah wanted a name for the pain, he called it sin.
Now Isaiah was a man who believed he was a nation.
Isaiah called the nation Judah and the sin Judah’s condition.
Inside Isaiah God saw the worldsheet burning.
Isaiah and God saw things differently, I can only tell you their actions.
Isaiah addressed the nation.
Man’s brittleness! cried Isaiah.
The nation stirred in its husk and slept again.
Two slabs of bloody meat lay folded on its eyes like wings.
Like a hard glossy painting the nation slept.
Who can invent a new fear? 
Yet I have invented sin, thought Isaiah, running his hand over the knobs.
And then, because of a great attraction between them—
which Isaiah fought (for and against) for the rest of his life— 
God shattered Isaiah’s indifference.
God washed Isaiah’s hair in fire.
God took the stay.
From beneath its meat wings the nation listened.
You, said Isaiah.
No answer.
I cannot hear you, Isaiah spoke again under the Branch.
Light bleached open the night camera.
God arrived.
God smashed Isaiah like glass through every socket of his nation.
Liar! said God.
Isaiah put his hands on his coat, he put his hand on his face.
Isaiah is a small man, said Isaiah, but no liar.
God paused.
And so that was their contract.
Brittle on both sides, no lying.
Isaiah’s wife came to the doorway, the doorposts had moved.
What’s that sound? said Isaiah’s wife.
The fear of the Lord, said Isaiah.
He grinned in the dark, she went back inside.

-- Anne Carson (1950- ), from Glass, Irony, and God, 1995.