god

Prayer for Mother’s Day 2024

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 2 Comments

O Holy God,

We pray for the mothers of the world: for the ones who have borne children, for the ones who have adopted children, for the ones who have, by the sharing of love and care, mothered someone or some ones around them. We thank you for the gift of love which mothers may share. We praise you for the care so many children receive from diligent and compassionate mothers. We ask your Holy Spirit to be present when motherhood stumbles and love fades, when children suffer neglect or abuse, or when a much-loved and much-loving mother is taken from them by the sad realities of the world.

We pray for the mothers who do not know where they will find the resources needed by their children. We pray for the mothers who do not know where they will find the resources needed for themselves. We pray for the mothers who, for whatever reasons, have yearned for and never had children. We pray for the mothers who struggle to live in war zones, or abusive homes, or with illness, or with children who do not return their love. We pray for mothers with gratitude and with urgency, when so many things can go wrong.

May we, as so many mother strive to do, live up to the high standards of your call. May we search diligently for truth and courageously bear witness to it. May we be held in your Holy Spirit when we need strength and renewal. May we be guided by your Holy Spirit when the time to work is at hand.

Jesus said he would gather the people as a mother hen gathers her chicks. Gather us, O God, and all those nations of the world, beneath the comfort of your wings.

Amen.

The image is a Pekin bantam hen with seven chicks. Photo by Calistemon – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=101140887.

I Fear I am not God

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 2 Comments

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love. – 1 John 4:18

Fear is not just about punishment, John.
Fear is also about being hurt.
Fear is about taking a risk.
Fear is about the unknown.

I fear punishment, of course.
The pain is not just the harsh words,
hard tones, spoken to me.
I punish myself as well.

I fear as well the hurt
that is not punishment,
but comes from accident
or malice done around me.

I fear to take a risk, of course,
because, deserved or not,
if risk turns into failure,
I will feel the pain.

And I fear the unknown
because who knows (I don’t)
what dangers lurk for me,
what hurts I’ll face and feel?

So John, I know that God is love,
rejoice that God loves without fear.
I live in love and fear.
I fear I am not God.

A poem/prayer based on 1 John 4:7-21, the Revised Common Lectionary Second Reading for Year B, Fifth Sunday of Easter.

Self-portrait by Eric Anderson.

Promise Unfulfilled…?

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 3 Comments

But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. – Jeremiah 31:33

Of all the promises you’ve made, O God,
through human speech of ancient poets, this
I wait for most expectantly. Oh when, I ask,
will human hearts be oriented to your will?

From Jeremiah’s day to this, I do not see
a sudden change in human righteousness.
Not even Jesus’ resurrection prompted us
to set aside our greedy lust for power,

Our tolerance for prejudice,
enshrining it in law that breaks the Law
I yearn to feel a-written on my heart.
How bright would be the dawn of such a day!

But God, I fear that knowledge of your law
within the heart would do no better than
to write it on papyrus, paper, wood, or stone.
We learn it, and we know it, and we break it.

So did you, have you, written on our hearts,
and did we find a way to curtain it away,
as centuries of Christians have ignored
the Savior’s last command to love?

I tremble that this promise is fulfilled.

A poem/prayer based on Jeremiah 31:31-34, the Revised Common Lectionary First Reading for Year B, Fifth Sunday in Lent.

The image is Cry of prophet Jeremiah on the Ruins of Jerusalem by Ilya Repin – http://www.art-catalog.ru/picture.php?id_picture=11437, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3257688

Clinging

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 2 Comments

“But Elisha said, ‘As the LORD lives, and as you yourself live, I will not leave you.'” – 2 Kings 2:2, 2:4, 2:6

You threw your mantle over me, Elijah, as I plowed the fields.
(You failed to mention that you’d taken that direction from the LORD.)
You would not pause to let me kiss my parents, no. But cook an ox
upon the fire of its yoke, and feed the neighbors? Yes. You’re strange,
Elijah. From that mantle day, I’ve clung to it and you. I’ve seen
your challenges to kings and queens. I’ve seen God’s fiery judgement fall.

So now you’d leave me, prophet of the trumpet voice, to serve your God
and speak to kings as if they had no soldiers to command. Have we
been walking on the road toward your death and burial? Should I
have asked the gathered prophets for a shovel, casting earth and tears
upon your stiffening form, just as you cast the mantle on my back
which stiffened, knowing that the furrows of my life would grow new fruit.

I said I’d follow then. I tell you I will follow now, despite the lack
of tools to dig or fill your grave. I’ll follow you across the stream
divided by your mantle’s touch, not knowing if I can return
to Jericho without a muddy swim and wade. I’ll follow you
though tears are all that fill my eyes, so that your spirit takes its flight
and I see nothing more than mist, despairing of your spirit’s gift.

Fire. Horses.
Galloping between us.
Whirling, swirling wind.
You rise beyond my grasping hand.
Father, no!
The chariots of Israel steal away my heart!

Your mantle falls.
I’ll cling to it
until my sobs have eased
and I can test
to see if God
is with me.

A poem/prayer based on 2 Kings 2:1-12, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year B, Transfiguration Sunday.

The image is The Ascension of Elijah, Russian icon of the Novgorod school, late 1400s, by Anonymous artist from Novgorod – http://www.bibliotekar.ru/rusIcon/2.htm, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4157865. Until I looked over Orthodox icons for this post, I hadn’t seen images of Elisha grasping Elijah’s mantle as if to hold him to the earth. It’s a powerful image.

Astounded

/ Rev. Eric Anderson / 3 Comments

They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. – Mark 1:22

Astounded I was, for certain – not, however,
in a good way.

I know there’s nuance, theory, opinion,
but not so this Jesus.

I’m a great one for clarity. Say what you think
but modestly, right?

Not so this Jesus. He laid it out clear
and said he was right.

Astounded I was, and a little offended
by arrogance there.

That’s when the shouting began. Oh, not me.
A poor man afflicted

By demons within. I knew him. We knew him.
The Teacher did, too.

“I know who you are!” he cried out, then called him
“the holy one of God.”

I was moving to gentle him, comfort him, lead him
away and to home, when

Jesus delivered his order: “Be silent! Come out
of his spirit!” And silence.

The man drew his breath, then exhaled with a sigh,
clearing the tension away.

He smiled, gave his thanks, took his seat near the wall.
Nobody knew what to say.

And now I must listen again to this arrogant Jesus
who seems to know everything,

Because with a word he set this man’s spirit free.
None of the rest of us did.

Perhaps Jesus’ ideas are not just opinion. Perhaps
he knows more than he says.

A poem/prayer based on Mark 1:21-28, the Revised Common Lectionary Gospel Reading for Year B, Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany.

The image is Christ Healing a Possessed Man in the Synagogue at Capernaum, an 11th century fresco in the bell tower of Lambach Abbey, Lambach, Austria, by an unknown artist – Scan aus: Rudolf Lehr –- Landes-Chronik Oberösterreich, Wien: Verlag Christian Brandstätter 2004 S. 79 ISBN 3-85498-331-X, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6633986.