December 16, 2020
It Was On the Night Shift: A Prayer
O Lord, it was on the night shift
that your love
came to birth
in a child called Holy,
shepherds
tending their flocks,
another night on the job,
sitting around the fire trying to stay warm,
telling bawdy stories,
laughing,
doing what they can to stay awake,
so tired they are,
then suddenly
the night sky
ablaze
with your glory,
scaring the wits out of them,
then a wondrous message
sending them scrambling
to see the wondrous thing
that had happened.
It was in a manger
set amidst straw and dung and cattle lowing,
no room in the inn,
that our salvation
came unto us,
wrapped in rags,
not in Temple,
not in High Priest’s home,
not swaddled in purple cloth,
no gilded cradle cradling him,
no nurse nursing him.
It was to a couple of hicks
in from the sticks,
(there probably was a room available but, hey, you
can't be too careful with people like that)
to a couple of nobodies
from nowhere,
that the hope of the world
was born;
not rich or powerful,
not from the right families,
not the right sort;
a couple of peasants
with no presence,
bewildered,
far from home,
far from family,
far from making sense of what was happening,
a divorce in the offing
(you really can't blame the guy for not
buying the holy whopper she told),
scared,
just a child herself,
carrying the holy child
of God,
strangers barging in
with their own holy whopper of a story,
and the pain,
no one to help,
the exhaustion of it,
crying out,
then joy, the joy of it all.
O Lord, it's how you once came unto us,
not when things were calm and bright,
but in the midst of the commotion of a census,
in the midst of chaos,
in the midst of confusion,
shepherds in the mud,
a dump of a barn,
just folks
like other folks,
and in a dark and dangerous world in which
evil stalked.
And so,
there is no time or place
where you cannot be found,
where you cannot come unto us,
where you cannot bring salvation
and hope
to birth.
O Lord, help us to pay attention,
to look,
to look
with all of our heart and mind and being
each and every day
that we would
see you with us
wherever we are,
on the job,
in the midst of chaos,
in the midst of pain or confusion,
in the midst of boredom or emptiness,
when we are scared,
when we’re not sure what to believe anymore,
when it all seems like a holy whopper,
when we’re at our wits end,
when the despair or depression,
the anxiety or fear,
overwhelms.
Grace us
with eyes to see you there
wherever we may be, and
give us
hearts that trust that
you shall heal us,
lift us,
save us,
and bring to birth
within us
a hope and a joy that nothing
can take from us.
O Lord, the coronavirus is still untamed,
still on a rampage,
still stalking us,
and we so pray
that no matter how tired we are of being restricted,
we would not tire of doing the right and responsible thing,
not tire of protecting others and ourselves,
and help bring us all
to a new day.
And we continue to pray for
those struggling with the virus,
those caring for them,
those out of work and out of food because of it,
those who are mourning,
those who are alone, isolated, and feel like giving up.
Help them to see that
you are with them
wanting to heal and strengthen and uphold and comfort
and bless them with peace.
And help them
to see you
in us
as we do what we can to support and feed and
be a friend to them,
and to see you
in those leaders
who work to bring financial relief
and act with compassion.
O Lord, in this season, in every season,
help us
to see you
not only in a sanctuary
or sacrament,
not just in the official places
or approved places,
not only where we think
you will be,
but in the
most unexpected place
of all,
our lives,
our lives as they are,
and find the peace and hope and joy we so
long for.
Amen.