Two Before the Altar

 Luke 18:9-14

“There is a crack in everything;
That’s how the light gets in.”—Leonard Cohen

The upright Pharisee, each hair in place, not a
Fringe on his tasseled loafers askew, stood
Before God’s altar and prayed to himself
Congratulations for his impeccable soul.
He knew what others thought of him.
His righteousness shone from his shoulders
Like epaulets- so certain was he of his goodness.
He checked the lock on the vault of his heart,
And nodded, satisfied. Nothing
In, nothing out, undisturbed. Shrugging deeper
Into the mantle of his own esteem,
Duty satisfied, he knew he was blessed.
Nothing had changed.

On trembling legs the tax-collector climbed the steps, aware
Of the eyes that turned his way, the stink of collusion
That clung to his fine clothes. He could still turn away,
But his heart urged him forward. No one
Expected to see him here in God’s courts,
And some sneered as he passed.
He knew what others thought of him.
Eyes downcast, he made himself small,
And beat his breast,
Pouring out his sins until his soul
Was an empty bowl, so thirsty was he for God’s mercy.
A spark of forgiveness lit the tinder
Of his heart. Cheeks wet, he resolved to turn.
In the new fire of grace and gratitude he was reclaimed.
Everything had changed.

--Leslie Barnes Scoopmire. This was first published at Episcopal Journal's Speaking to the Soul on October 20, 2222.

Prayer for Overcoming Indifference

For the sin of silence,

For the sin of indifference,
For the secret complicity of the neutral,
For the closing of borders,
For the washing of hands,
For the crime of indifference,
For the sin of silence,
For the closing of borders.
For all that was done,
For all that was not done,
Let there be no forgetfulness before the Throne of Glory;
Let there be remembrance within the human heart;
And let there at last be forgiveness
When your children, O God,
Are free and at peace.

--Chaim Stern, editor, Gates of Repentance (Central Conference of American Rabbis, 1978).

Possible Answers to Prayer

Your petitions—though they continue to bear
just the one signature—have been duly recorded.
Your anxieties—despite their constant,

relatively narrow scope and inadvertent
entertainment value—nonetheless serve
to bring your person vividly to mind.

Your repentance—all but obscured beneath
a burgeoning, yellow fog of frankly more
conspicuous resentment—is sufficient.

Your intermittent concern for the sick,
the suffering, the needy poor is sometimes
recognizable to me, if not to them.

Your angers, your zeal, your lipsmackingly
righteous indignation toward the many
whose habits and sympathies offend you—

these must burn away before you’ll apprehend
how near I am, with what fervor I adore
precisely these, the several who rouse your passions.

-- Scott Cairns (1954- ) American poet and spiritual writer

Having Confessed

Having confessed he feels

That he should go down on his knees and pray
For forgiveness for his pride, for having
Dared to view his soul from the outside.
Lie at the heart of the emotion, time
Has its own work to do. We must not anticipate
Or awaken for a moment. God cannot catch us
Unless we stay in the unconscious room
Of our hearts. We must be nothing,
Nothing that God may make us something.
We must not touch the immortal material
We must not daydream to-morrow’s judgement—
God must be allowed to surprise us.
We have sinned, sinned like Lucifer
By this anticipation. Let us lie down again
Deep in anonymous humility and God
May find us worthy material for His hand.

By Patrick Kavanagh (1904–1967), Irish poet and novelist from Collected Poems.

SHRIVEN

Childhood Saturday nights found us
in the cloistered dark of the old church
dim lit to save on bills, but menacing still,
with gothic shadows in every corner
fit for scenes from horror on a screen.

We'd line up by fluted columns
that reached to a shadowed ceiling
free of saints, and waited to open up
the spirits vein and bleed out all
our sad litanies of petty crime.

The old priest, half deaf, drew crowds,
making us whole again for the cost
of three mumbled Hail Marys
as we knelt in the dark pews
and scanned the hidden corners for a sign.

Beneath the pews, along the floor,
ran pipes for a heating system old as sin,
and on cold nights they'd hiss and moan,
then commenced the clanging like lost souls
till the whole church trembled with the noise.

In this fit setting, at eight I shuddered,
at thirteen grumbled, and at sixteen
merely mourned the sad irony
beneath the frozen agonies of
a rough cut, varnished Christ.

Years later, that old apartment with
two narrow rooms, high ceilinged,
had ancient radiators with chipped paint
flecks of rust, and constant minor leaks –
late on cold nights, they sang,

saying their raucous organ song, rumbling,
banging, raising all of hell or at least
the demons hidden in their dark,
meandering pipes -- the super would come,
but only after endless calls.

Old and half-deaf, he’d wrench the joints,
And sound his rasping, high pitched laugh
that turned to coughing soon enough –
“had to bleed the bastards-- water leaks
out and air gets in -- got to bleed it out.”

So we went, many nights, till I moved on,
no longer assailed by the angry pipes, but
reassured by the subtle flow of forced air
who soft breath brings near silence –
but in silence, then, what echoes can remain?

Lying awake in the too quiet dark,
regretting the loss song of ancient pipes,
I wonder if this be peace or merely absence.
Where is the loud spirit that once trembled nights,
and who now can bleed away what's trapped within?

--Vincent Casaregola, from Dappled Things, Sts. Peter and Paul 2020- Volume 15, Issue 3

A Minor Bird

I have wished a bird would fly away, 
And not sing by my house all day; 

Have clapped my hands at him from the door 
When it seemed as if I could bear no more. 

The fault must partly have been in me. 
The bird was not to blame for his key. 

And of course there must be something wrong 
In wanting to silence any song.

--Robert Frost (1875-1963), American poet



Photo: Picture of a cuckoo singing from Pinterest

Prayer of Confession (based on the Prodigal Son)

I will arise and go to my Father, and say to him, 'Father, I have sinned, against heaven and in your sight, and am no more worthy to be called your child.'

In penitence we confess the many ways in which we have squandered our inheritance and imperilled our relationships, within our families and beyond them.

Have mercy upon us, our Father. Give to us, and to all who turn to you in hope, the liberating assurance of sins forgiven. Mend what is broken. Continue towards completion your liberating work among all people.

Lord, we come to ourselves when we come to you. We pray that you will so draw us to you that we may become truly ourselves, now and to all eternity.

Amen.


--adapted from Contemporary Prayers for Church and School, 1975, from SCM Press Ltd., p. 15

Based on Luke 15:11-32

Image: Return of the Prodigal Son, Rembrandt van Rijn, 1667.

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

Confession and Pardon

Confession:
Lord Jesus, you come into our lives
when we are least prepared for you.
As you enfolded your betrayers,
so embrace us who struggle to love.
Reconcile us with our brothers and sisters,
and, for the sake of your love,
forgive us all our sins.
Amen.

Assurance of Pardon (from Psalm 103:11-13):
As far as the heavens are high above the earth,
so great is your loving response to those who are humble;
so far does your enduring strength
uphold those who fear the darkness within.
As parents are concerned for their children,
so you come to those who reach out in faith.

-- from Daily Prayer for All Seasons, from Forward Movement

Eternal Seeping Through the Physical

We come into thy house, our home,
once more to give thanks:
for earth and sea and sky in harmony of colour,
the air of the eternal seeping through the physical,
the everlasting glory dipping into time.
We praise Thee.

For nature resplendent:
growing beasts, mergent crops, singing birds,
and all the gayness of the green.
We bless Thee.

For swift running tides, resistant waves, Thy spirit on the waters,
the spirit of the inerrant will,
striving with the currents that are also Thine.
We bless Thee.
O Lord: how marvellous are Thy works.
In majesty hast Thou created them.

As we look on man
we thank Thee above all that Thou hast been mindful of us
in Jesus Christ, our Lord:
that even as a man fell from Thy creation which was good,
so Thou didst send the Proper Man to restore in us the image:
that we find the road to harmony again in Him.

We praise Thee.
Yes: already vibrant with the everlasting,
we are enriched beyond the noblest works of nature.
That the spirit moves upon the turbulent waters of our lives:
We bless Thee.
Yes: that thou dost honour each of us
with a flowing tide and also with resistant waves,
and that the waves only engulf when we lose our trust in Thee:
We give Thee many thanks.
And that even Thou who hast set the stars on their courses
hast also sent each one of us within the orbit of Thy love.
The hairs of our head are numbered.
We give Thee humble praise.

By the awareness of Thy good creation round us,
by the intimations of Thy redemption in us,
by the pulsing sense of Thy spirit round about us and between us—
what else is left for us to do but to say sorry?
For our earthiness and our laziness:
our blindness and forgetting.
What else but to kneel when we see Thee hanging there
 bleeding there, but most certainly risen there
and waiting till we all get together there to take Thee down?
Give us life that we may be penitent.
Penitent that we may live.

--from The Whole Earth Shall Cry Glory: Iona Prayers, ed. by George MacLeod

Psalms of Protection: Psalm 25

Psalm 25

(alphabetical acrostic)

To you, O God, I lift up my soul;
my God, I put my trust in you;
     let me not be humiliated,
     nor let my enemies triumph over me.
Let none who look to you be put to shame;
     let the treacherous be disappointed in their schemes.
Show me your ways, O God,
     and teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth and teach me,
     for you are the God of my salvation;
     in you have I trusted all the day long.
Remember, O God, your compassion and love,
     for they are from everlasting.
Remember not the sins of my youth and my transgressions;
     remember me according to your love
     and for the sake of your goodness, O God.
Gracious and upright are you;
     therefore you teach sinners in your way.
You guide the humble in doing right
     and teach your way to the lowly.
All your paths are love and faithfulness
     to those who keep your covenant and your testimonies.
For your Name’s sake, O God,
    forgive my sin, for it is great.
Who are they who fear you?
    You will teach them the way that they should choose.
They shall dwell in prosperity,
     and their offspring shall inherit the land.
You are a friend to those who fear you
     and will show them your covenant.
My eyes are ever looking to you,
     for you shall pluck my feet out of the net.
Turn to me and have pity on me, 
     for I am left alone and in misery.
The sorrows of my heart have increased;
     bring me out of my troubles.
Look upon my adversity and misery
     and forgive me all my sin.
Look upon my enemies, for they are many,
     and they bear a violent hatred against me.
Protect my life and deliver me;
     let me not be put to shame, for I have trusted in you.
Let integrity and uprightness preserve me,
     for my hope has been in you.
Deliver the people of Israel, O God,
     out of all their troubles.

-- from the St. Helena Psalter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I offer my life to you, Lord.
     My God, I trust you.
Please don't let me be put to shame!
     Don't let my enemies rejoice over me!
For that mater,
don't let anyone who hopes in you be put to shame;
     instead let those who are treacherous without excuse be put to shame.

Make your ways known to me, Lord;
     teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth-- teach it to me--
because you are the God who saves me.
     I put my hope in you all day long.
Lord, I remember your companionship and faithful love---
     they are forever!
But don't remember the sins of my youth or my wrongdoing.
     Remember me only according to your faithful love
     for the sake of your goodness, Lord.

The Lord is good and does the right thing;
     he teaches sinners which way they should go.
God guides the weak to justice,
     teaching them his way.
All the Lord's paths are loving and faithful
    for those who keep his covenant and laws.
Please, for the sake of your good name, Lord, fogive my sins, which are many!

Where are the ones who bonor the Lord?
     God will teach them which path to take.
They will live a good life,
     and their descendants will possess the land.
The Lord counsels those who honor him;
     he makes his covenant known to them.
My eyes are always looking to the Lord
     because he will free my feet from the net.

Turn to me, God, and have mercy on me
     because I'm alone and suffering.
My heart's troubles keep getting bigger--
     set me free from my distress!
Look at my suffering and trouble--
     forgive all my sins!
Look at how many enemies I have
     and how violently they hate me!
Please protect my life! Deliver me!
     Don't let me be put to shame
     because I take refuge in you.
Let integrity and virtue guard me
   because I hope in you.

Please, God, save Israel from all its troubles!

--from the Common English Bible

Rue

For what I did 
And did not do 
And do without 
In my old age
Rue, not rage 
Against that night 
We go into, 
Sets me straight 
On what to do 
Before I die —  
Sit in the shade, 
Look at the sky


--Samuel Menashe (1925-2011) found at http://ghpoetryplace.blogspot.com/2012/03/rue.html

Photo: Peter considers his denial of Jesus, detail from the Passion-side walls of La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.

To His Conscience

Can I not sin, but thou wilt be
My private protonotary?
Can I not woo thee to pass by
A short and sweet iniquity?
I’ll cast a mist and cloud upon
My delicate transgression,
So utter dark as that no eye
Shall see the hugg’d impiety.
Gifts blind the wise, and bribes do please,
And wind all other witnesses;
And wilt not thou with gold be tied
To lay thy pen and ink aside,
That in the murk and tongueless night
Wanton I may, and thou not write?
It will not be; and therefore, now,
For times to come I’ll make this vow,
From aberrations to live free,
So I’ll not fear the Judge, or thee.

--Robert Herrick (1591-1674), English priest and lyric poet

Confession of Sin from A New Zealand Prayer Book

Happy are those whose sins are forgiven,
whose wrongs are pardoned.
I will confess my sins to the Lord,
I will not conceal my wrongdoings.

Silence

God forgives and heals us.
We need your healing, merciful God:
give us true repentance.
Some sins are plain to us;
some escape us,
some we cannot face.
Forgive us;
set us free to hear your word to us;
set us free to serve you.

The presiding priest says

God forgives you.
Forgive others;
Forgive yourself.

Silence

Through Christ, God has put away your sin:
approach your God in peace.


--From" Eucharistic Liturgy of Thanksgiving for Creation and Redemption," in He Karakia Mihinare o Aoteoroa: A New Zealand Prayer Book

Prayer of Confession

O God, who has given us light, and who grieves because we have so often loved darkness better; you have called us to follow that which is good, and to flee from that which is evil; and you know how, hour after hour, day after day, we have yielded to temptations in our path, have done that which you have forbidden, and have left undone the work you have given us to do. O You, whose voice of warning and love we have so little heeded, call us yet again, we beseech You; call us that we may answer and do your bidding, that we may go astray from You no more; but that, being comforted by your love, and upheld by your strength, we may fulfill our days upon earth forgiven and at peace with You.

-- adapted to modern language from R.C. Jones, A Book of Prayers (19th century)

A Short Testament

Whatever harm I may have done
In all my life in all your wide creation
If I cannot repair it
I beg you to repair it,

And then there are all the wounded
The poor the deaf the lonely and the old
Whom I have roughly dismissed
As if I were not one of them.
Where I have wronged them by it
And cannot make amends I ask you
To comfort them to overflowing,

And where there are lives I may have withered around me,
Or lives of strangers far or near
That I’ve destroyed in blind complicity,
And if I cannot find them
Or have no way to serve them,

Remember them. I beg you to remember them

When winter is over
And all your unimaginable promises
Burst into song on death’s bare branches.

--Anne Porter (1911-2011), from Living Things (2006)