3.17.24 Prayers of Church & Community, Westminster Presbyterian Church, Pasadena, CA

 Prayers of Church & Community, March 17, 2024

Westminster Presbyterian Church

Holy God, Eternal Light … creator of the heavens and the earth … your poetry is written

across the evening sky, and inscribed upon our heart … you speak to us quietly and without fanfare … you speak in the tenderness of a child’s smile, their exuberance, and the pleading of their eyes, that we give them a future. You are the unsettling presence that stirs our conscience, you are the soothing mercy that heals the troubled soul. 

Holy God, Eternal Light … we pray for our needs, and those of our loved ones … we give thanks for the good we have done, and we express sorrow for the good we didn’t do … 

We pray, O God, for wisdom … to discern the difference between what is real and what is fantasy … to know falsehood and how it destroys, to know the truth and how it saves … to read the news with careful eyes, to hear the the stories of the day with thoughtful ears … to weigh carefully the claims made, to pray without ceasing, for the counsel of your Holy Spirit.

We give thanks for the likes of King David … his goodness and his achievements … and his honesty when he failed … when he failed those whom he loved, when he failed his nation, when he failed you, O God. 

May the leaders of our world know the boundaries of power … may they be saved from the delusions of status … may the great nations of the world learn the art of restraint, compromise, and doubt - self-doubt, O LORD, an important gift on the road to hope, for nations, and for each of us.

We pray for our YouTube Family - for John and Rose, Marla, Mark, Charles, Anne and Stan - all of them, and more … for their faithfulness, we are grateful, and we pray, O LORD, for their welfare, in mind, body, heart, and soul. 

For our Muslim sisters and brothers, and the Season of Ramadan … 

We pray this day for people of faith throughout our nation … a welter of voices, some claiming special revelation, others just going with the flow … more churchianity than christianity, more form than faith … help us, we pray, to move deeply into the mysteries of our faith, to draw large the circles of concern and purpose, to be more than what we are, to grow and not shrink, to enlarge our cache of wisdom, add to it, enlarge it, give it life, that we might give to the generations to come greatness of courage, breadth of compassion, deeps of serious thinking, and the ethics of justice and peace.

In the name of our LORD Jesus Christ who taught us to pray, saying:

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors; and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever. Amen. 

Ash Wednesday Lament

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin.

I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.

For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.
Against you, you alone, have I sinned,
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you are justified in your sentence
and blameless when you pass judgement.
Indeed, I was born guilty,
a sinner when my mother conceived me.

Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz,
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.

You desire truth in the inward being;
therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.

Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and put a new and right spirit within me.
Do not cast me away from your presence,
and do not take your holy spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and sustain in me a willing spirit.

Into this neutral air
Where blind skyscrapers use
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Man,
Each language pours its vain
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
Imperialism's face
And the international wrong.

Faces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.


Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
and sinners will return to you.
Deliver me from bloodshed, O God,
O God of my salvation,
and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance.

The windiest militant trash
Important Persons shout
Is not so crude as our wish:
What mad Nijinsky wrote
About Diaghilev
Is true of the normal heart;
For the error bred in the bone
Of each woman and each man
Craves what it cannot have,
Not universal love
But to be loved alone.

O Lord, open my lips,
and my mouth will declare your praise.
For you have no delight in sacrifice;
if I were to give a burnt-offering, you would not be pleased.
The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

From the conservative dark
Into the ethical life
The dense commuters come,
Repeating their morning vow;
'I will be true to the wife,
I'll concentrate more on my work,'
And helpless governors wake
To resume their compulsory game:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the dead,
Who can speak for the dumb?

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

Do good to Zion in your good pleasure;
rebuild the walls of Jerusalem,
then you will delight in right sacrifices,
in burnt-offerings and whole burnt-offerings;
then bulls will be offered on your altar.


Defenseless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.