Listen, Lord: A Prayer

O Lord, we come this morning
Knee-bowed and body-bent
Before Thy throne of grace.
O Lord--this morning--
Bow our hearts beneath our knees,
And our knees in some lonesome valley.
We come this morning-- 
Like empty pitchers to a full fountain, 
With no merits of our own.
O Lord--open up a window of heaven,
And lean out far over the battlements of glory,
And listen this morning.

Lord, have mercy on proud and dying sinners--
Sinners hanging over the mouth of hell,
Who seem to love their distance well.
Lord--ride by this morning-- 
Mount Your milk-white horse,
And ride-a this morning--
And in Your ride, ride by old hell,
Ride by the dingy gates of hell,
And stop poor sinners in their headlong plunge.

And now, O Lord, this man of God, 
Who breaks the bread of life this morning-- 
Shadow him in the hollow of Thy hand, 
And keep him out of the gunshot of the devil. 
Take him, Lord--this morning--
Wash him with hyssop inside and out,
Hang him up and drain him dry of sin.
Pin his ear to the wisdom-post,
And make his words sledge hammers of truth-- 
Beating on the iron heart of sin. 
Lord God, this morning-- 
Put his eye to the telescope of eternity, 
And let him look upon the paper walls of time. 
Lord, turpentine his imagination, 
Put perpetual motion in his arms, 
Fill him full of the dynamite of Thy power, 
Anoint him all over with the oil of Thy salvation, 
And set his tongue on fire. 

 And now, O Lord-- 
When I've done drunk my last cup of sorrow-- 
When I've been called everything but a child of God-- 
When I'm done traveling up the rough side of the mountain-- 
O--Mary's Baby-- 
When I start down the steep and slippery steps of death-- 
When this old world begins to rock beneath my feet-- 
Lower me to my dusty grave in peace 
To wait for that great gittin'-up morning--Amen.

--James Weldon Johnson (1871-1938), African American poet, writer, professor, diplomat, and Executive Secretary of the NAACP



Photo of the Most Rev. Michael Curry, Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, from the Episcopal Church

A RoshHaShana Prayer for Clergy

God of sacred callings,
Bless the work of our clergy,
Who carry us through our lives,
Our joys and our sorrows,
In holy service,
Our broken hearts,
Our festive moments,
And our deepest yearnings.

May their dedication serve as shining lamp of love.
May the works of their hands bring merit in heaven.
Bless them with health and long life.
Guard them from taking our traumas into themselves.
Protect them from loneliness and isolation,
Shielding them from the spiritual and emotional pain
That can come with a life of service.
May they have find peace and comfort in their own moments of need.

Blessed are You,
God of All,
Who, with love, provides the world
Dedicated leaders of faith.

-- Alden Solovy, Reform Jewish author, liturgist, prayer composer, and teacher. Found at Reform Judaism.org.


As our Jewish neighbors prepare for their first shabbat service since the massacre at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, we offer our prayers for them, and stand in solidarity with them.

Stopping by Starbucks on Summer Mornings doing Interim Youth Missioner Work

My bloodshot eyes have a red glow.
I think I know the antidote.
There is a Starbucks over here
And so to caffeinate I go.

My Mini seems to know to steer
Itself to a space standing near
The door held open by a gent
Who blearily tries to fake good cheer.

The barista looks up to make
"The usual?" she asks, and starts to shake
The Refresher that I will keep
Imbibing from 'til my lunch break.

This drink is lovely, slightly sweet,
But I have meetings still to keep
In which I must not fall asleep,
In which I must not fall asleep.

--L. B. S., July 25, 2017

(https://www.facebook.com/lesliebarnes.scoopmire/posts/10209754336994755)

Send Me

Bishop Wayne Smith and myself at my ordination to the transitional diaconate, December 16, 2017

Use me, God, in Thy great harvest field,
Which stretcheth far and wide like a wide sea;
The gatherers are so few; I fear the precious yield
Will suffer loss. Oh, find a place for me!
A place where best the strength I have will tell:
It may be one the older toilers shun;
Be it a wide or narrow place, 'tis well
So that the work it holds be only done.

-- Christina Rosetti (1830-1894)
On the feast day of Christina Rosetti, 2017