Archive for prayer

Faith is your steering wheel

You’re probably familiar with images of the Old Ship of Zion and the Gospel Train, but in 1957 the Dixie Hummingbirds updated the mode of transportation for the journey to heaven.  “Christian’s Automobile” features the incomparable Ira Tucker, who sang with the group for an astonishing 70 years.  Like many of the gospel train songs, this one is both serious and playful as the metaphor gets stretched further and further.  Tucker tells us

You gotta check on your tires
You got a rough road ahead
And when you are weary from your journey
God will put you to bed….

You’ve gotta check on your lights
And see your own faults
Stop while you can see them, children
Or your soul will be lost….

But my favorite image comes at the end, when Tucker sings:

And I’m not worried
About my parking space
I just want to see,
See my Savior face to face

What better way to express “I go to prepare a place for you” and the hope of the beatific vision at the time when Americans dreamed of seeing the U.S.A. in a Chevrolet.

Prayer is your driver’s license.

Nothing to do but pray

Free will. Agency. Good works.

So much of our identity as Christians, as humans, is tied up with what we do. We move in the world, we make a mark. We daily reenact the story of the Fall as we choose good or evil, obedience or disobedience. We further the Kingdom as we do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly.  And we feel a great sense of frustration and helplessness when our friends and loved ones are burdened, and there is nothing we can do but pray.

And yet…how can we imagine we do nothing when our work becomes one with the work of the Spirit? What do we imagine we are doing when we pray?

 

The greatest gift we have to offer one another is indeed our collective prayer — not merely kind wishes, not simply good intentions, but deep prayer—the ability to hold, tangibly and intentionally, others in that abundant love that flows freely and gracefully within us and among us. This has substance. This has weight and heft. This, and this alone, is the source of deep healing, lasting transformation, and enduring peace.

 

From a pastoral letter by Episcopal Diocese of Colorado Bishop Robert O’Neill that was to be read in congregations across Colorado on Sunday, July 22, 2012 following the shooting at a cinema in Aurora, Colorado.

Angels and archangels; tattoos and prayers

St. Michael, Archangel Protector
Prayer card created by IconArt

 

In the corners of Christendom that celebrate saints’ days, today is the feast day of St. Michael and all Angels.  As I was searching the web for pictures of St. Michael, I was surprised to find that, along with Guido Reni’s famous painting of St. Michael Crushing Satan, there were a great number of St. Michael tattoos–including some interesting variations in apparel and weaponry.  St. Michael, of course, is the coolest angel for tattoo purposes.  He’s a protector and champion, he carries a lance or a sword, and he gets to bruise the devil under his feet. But Michael is also the patron saint of police officers, paratroopers, fighter pilots, soldiers, fencers, and grocers–and that is why so many people are getting inked. Perhaps these days a tattoo takes the place of the more traditional saints’ medal.

There are numerous prayers addressed to St. Michael; two of them caught my attention. The first is related to a famous story of a young Marine saved by St. Michael in Korea. You could learn this verse as a child and carry it with you through a lifetime.

Michael, Michael of the morning,
Fresh corps of Heaven adorning,
Keep me safe today,
And in time of temptation
Drive the devil away.
Amen.

The second prayer is said to be a police officer’s prayer:

Saint Michael, heaven’s glorious commissioner of police, who once so neatly and successfully cleared God’s premises of all its undesirables, look with kindly and professional eyes on your earthly force.

Give us cool heads, stout hearts, and uncanny flair for investigation and wise judgement. Make us the terror of burglars, the friend of children and law-abiding citizens, kind to strangers, polite to bores, strict with law-breakers and impervious to temptations.

You know, Saint Michael, from your own experiences with the devil that the police officer’s lot on earth is not always a happy one; but your sense of duty that so pleased God, your hard knocks that so surprised the devil, and your angelic self-control give us inspiration.

And when we lay down our night sticks, enroll us in your heavenly force, where we will be as proud to guard the throne of God as we have been to guard the city of all the people.    Amen.

Sometimes an expression of faith is highly personal and not at all institutional. It can be wild and uncontrollable; without official sanction, but not without meaning. Sometimes you know the sinners by their saints.

Prayer, the Church’s banquet

Prayer (I)
by George Herbert (1593-1633)

 

Prayer the Church’s banquet, Angels’ age,
God’s breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth;

Engine against th’ Almighty, sinner’s tower,
Reverséd thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six day’s world transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;

Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted Manna, gladness of the best,
Heaven in ordinary, man well dressed,
The Milky Way, the bird of Paradise,

Church bells beyond the stars heard, the soul’s blood,
The land of spices, something understood.

Turn our hearts to brave music

Augustine of Hippo

 
God of our life, there are days when the burdens we carry chafe our shoulders and weigh us down, when the road seems dreary and endless, the skies gray and threatening, when our lives have no music in them and our hearts are lonely, and our souls have lost their courage.

Flood the path with light, we beseech thee; turn our eyes to where the skies are full of promise; turn our hearts to brave music; give us the sense of camaraderie with heroes and saints of every age; and so lift up our spirits that we may be able to encourage the souls of all who journey with us on the road of life. We offer you our praise and thanks. Amen.

 

What’s underneath

“Would you like to pray?” the priest asked me, and I froze—caught out in the open, no chance to reach cover.   I winced, uncertain.   How do you explain to a priest that this routine offer is too intimate to accept?  How do you refuse something that is supposed to be no big deal?

They tell you that prayer will bring comfort, but at that moment it felt like bumping into someone in the underwear section of the department store.   We all know that everyone has needs in this department, but we’d rather other people didn’t know too much about just how big our needs are or what’s really going on underneath the selves we show to the rest of the world.

“You pray,” I said, repositioning my emotional bundles to conceal their contents if not their existence—knowing that the gesture itself revealed as much as what was hidden.