August 23, 2023
“For the Life of Me, I Couldn’t Figure Out Why”: A Prayer
O Lord, you know the day I mean, that day two weeks ago I felt
antsy,
nervous,
agitated,
and for the life of me,
I couldn't figure out why;
wasn't medication,
hardly take any at all anymore;
wasn't the cancer,
not do what cancer does to me;
wasn't lack of sleep,
haven't slept well for months,
always tired;
Kitty said I was being very quiet and
wondered why, and
all I could say was that
I was trying to be at peace;
but
wasn't sure what meant,
because am at peace,
with the cancer,
with what it's doing,
with death;
had to be something else; so
did what I always do when stuck;
sat on our deck,
soaked up sun and heat
(always cold these days),
closed my eyes and listened, and
waited,
waited for you,
waited for the Spirit,
for some word,
some word that would tell me
why felt the way felt; and
finally,
a word came;
finally,
understood;
finally
knew why so antsy and agitated;
and the word that came
was the last word expected, but
the one word that
made sense of it all,
this word:
language;
been
writing words,
speaking words,
working with words,
my whole life long;
trying to find,
searching my mind to find,
wracking my brain to find,
the words,
the phrases,
the language
that would say what I wanted to say, that would be your word;
your word
that would help people
better understand your Word,
make sense of their lives in this world,
choose the right path and find
the faith, the hope, the love
to lead and guide them on the way;
Sunday after Sunday,
week after week,
preaching,
teaching,
visiting,
counseling, consoling, comforting, confronting, challenging;
everyday wondering, wondering
if it did any good, mattered, helped,
if still does;
never sure,
always insecure (Fat-boy Syndrome
still with me, 75 years and more); so
try harder,
work harder,
pray harder,
listen harder,
hope harder;
so that
my language
will finally be
your language, a
language that will
help and heal,
redeem and reconcile,
save and deliver; and
that's why I grew
quiet,
still,
said little,
because I was
mourning,
mourning
what has happened to language,
mourning
what has happened to our culture,
what has happened to our land.
That’s what I didn’t realize, O Lord, that I had been thinking about
language, and had become
unsettled as I did, and had been
overtaken by sadness, a deep sadness, because
we live in a culture
in which people revel
in foul language, the language of
R-rated, X-rated,
political campaigns;
in which crass, cruel words
celebrated;
in which threatening words
applauded;
in which
language emptied of its power to reconcile, replaced by
language meant to ignite, insight, inflame;
in which parents
apparently tolerate lying, vulgarity, disgusting behavior
in their children because tolerate it
in prominent people; and
apparently accept hatred, prejudice, violent language
in their children because accept it
in adults; and
apparently do not expect
responsibility, respect, reverence,
in their children because
don't even expect it of themselves,
let alone others; and
sadness too
because of Christians’ language,
proud members of the jeering choir; and
sadness
because of Church’s language,
trying so hard to be
cutting edge,
current,
catchy,
but not
cutting it, little currency to it, hardly catching on.
O Lord, James had it right (sorry, Martin), Christians who do not
have a tight rein on their tongues, not Christian at all;
because
language matters,
words matter,
what we say matters; and so,
grant us the strength to
tame our tongues,
hold our tongues,
watch our tongues,
and give
the children,
ourselves,
others,
a future
other than the one
that is coming
if we don't.
O Lord, as always, we ask that you heal and mend, console and
comfort, strengthen and lift in hope, all who struggle with
illness or disease, who are suffering and hurting, who are dying,
who are grieving, who are up against it in some way,
and the hungry, the homeless, the refugees everywhere.
Move us to be there for them.
O Lord, we make a big deal of freedom of speech but to be truly
Christian is not to be free to say whatever we choose, but
free to say what you would have say,
free from all the powers that seek to control us,
free to speak your word, using your language,
the language of
truth, kindness, reconciliation;
the language of
love;
the language of
hope.
Amen.