Poems and Prayers for a Pivotal Week
We have compiled a list of prayers and poems that resonated with us this week. Wherever you are in your journey of hope & healing, deconstruction & reconstruction, faith & doubt, we hope you’ll find something here that resonates with you, too.
Laura Jean Truman, author at Grace on the Edge of the World:
God,
Keep my anger from becoming meanness.
Keep my sorrow from collapsing into self-pity.
Keep my heart soft enough to keep breaking.
Keep my anger turned towards justice, not cruelty.
Remind me that all of this, every bit of it, is for love.
Keep me fiercely kind.
Amen.
Kimberly Deckel, Anglican Priest and Executive Pastor at Church of the Cross in Austin, Texas, from Christianity Today:
O Father, you who hear all our prayers, sanctify us for your good purposes, we pray. Show us how to love our neighbor as ourselves, even those who disagree with us, as you have commanded us. May we be leery of any unity that is used to manipulate and silence others, especially the least of these. When we find ourselves tempted to dismiss others’ thoughts and experiences, create in us the ability to seek understanding rather than to pronounce judgment, as well as the ability to see the humanity in others. Manifest in us the ability to think beyond our own political interests and to consider the interests of those who are different from us. We ask all these things in the powerful name of Jesus.
Venice Williams, from the Milwaukee Neighborhood News Service:
You are awakening to the
same country you fell asleep to.
The very same country.
Pull yourself together.
And,
when you see me,
do not ask me
“What do we do now?
How do we get through the next four years?”
Some of my Ancestors dealt with
at least 400 years of this
under worse conditions.
Continue to do the good work.
Continue to build bridges not walls.
Continue to lead with compassion.
Continue the demanding work
of liberation for all.
Continue to dismantle broken systems,
large and small.
Continue to set the best example
for the children.
Continue to be a vessel of nourishing joy.
Continue right where you are.
Right where you live into your days.
Do so in the name of
The Creator who expects
nothing less from each of us.
And if you are not “continuing”
ALL of the above,
in community, partnership, collaboration?
What is it you have been doing?
What is it you are waiting for?
Rachel Held Evans, from Wholehearted Faith:
Thick skin, tender heart.
You never want to toughen up so much that you lose your tender heart, the part of you that experiences and processes pain and compassion and love.
Sometimes you have to remember that it’s okay not to embody Teflon.
Sometimes you have to remind yourself to stay human, which is to say, you have to remind yourself that God gave you a heart for a reason—a heart that is not impervious to all manner of provocation, a heart that takes in external stimuli and responds to them, a heart that throbs with the full range of emotion.
Sometimes you have to remind yourself that it is okay, and not just okay but normal and right and good, to feel hurt when someone calls you names or questions your faith.
Joash Thomas, from A Post-Election Liturgy, a post on Jesus, Justice and Joash:
A Collect for Post-Election Peace and Comfort
For our neighbors who are hurting, grieving, and mourning today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.For our neighbors who are fearful for themselves and their communities today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.For our neighbors who are rejoicing today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.For our neighbors who fail to understand how their votes in America can help or harm their poor and oppressed neighbors in the Global South today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.For the people who prioritized their own liberation over the liberation of their less privileged neighbors on the margins today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.For the children who will continue to suffer in Gaza because of the apathy of the American Empire towards their lives;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.
For those who feel hopeless and in despair today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.
For those who are struggling to see God today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.
For those who hunger and thirst for righteousness and justice;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.
For those trying to live as peacemakers today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.For those who are inclined to choose violence in word or in deed today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.
For those who feel inclined to cancel their neighbor because of how they grieve today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.For my neighbors who I find myself disappointed with today;
Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.
Brit Barron, from Do You Still Talk to Grandma:
I hate this country; I love this country. The two do not cancel each other out: They exist together, they dance with each other, and on different days one will dominate the other. My job is not to reconcile these two realities, or to force a contrived equality between them. All that I can do is allow them both to exist.
The grief is there, the hope is there, and so are the anger and sadness, and the joy and pride. It is all there, all at once, and all I can do is hold all of it. And I want to keep all of it. I get to keep all of it. There is not one right way for me to think about America, nor is there one answer for how I should respond to what happens in America.
The joy does not cancel out the pain; the grief does not cancel out the hope. Holding contradictory truths does not diminish my dedication to fighting for what is right.
Ann Patchett, from NPR’s Wild Card with Rachel Martin:
I still believe in God. And I am still a Catholic, and there is an enormous amount about Catholicism that I don’t believe and am appalled by. I am still an American, and there is an enormous amount being an American that I don’t believe in and that I am appalled by. I am a Tennesseean. There is an enormous amount about being a Tennesseean that I don’t believe in and I am appalled by. But I am those things. And there are, about all of those things, parts that I love and I’m proud of. What matters is that we do our best with the life that we have—that we show up, that we love each other, and that we try to be as aware as is humanly possible of the life and the gift that we’re given. And to help other people wherever we can.
Cole Arthur Riley, from Black Liturgies:
God who is moved to tears, We have become desensitized to the cries of our neighbor. We confess that the trauma and terror of the world roll off us like oil. Help us to never become so familiar with pain that we grow disinterested in collective liberation. But keep us from that obsessive attunement which is prone toward savior complexes and feigned allyship. Lead us into a kind of solidarity that reminds us that in pausing to bear witness to suffering, we do not center ourselves as the rescuer. We do not become the voice. Free us from the responsibility to understand every tragedy at once. Help us to discern our capacity for solidarity, for lament. Help us to learn when to stand and when to rest and allow others to do so—remembering that our activism is shared among a collective. We don’t have to hold it alone. Amen.
And finally, we have been collectively reading this prayer, adapted by Zach from one of St. Francis’s prayers, at the end of each of our Restore services recently:
Jesus, help us be peacemakers.
Where there is hatred, help us sow love.
Where there is need, help us be generous.
Where there is division, help us seek unity.
Where there is abuse, help us pursue justice.
Where there is darkness, help us shine your light.
Amen.
Which one of these resonated with you the most? Have you seen other prayers, poems, or posts that have been meaningful for you this week? Please share in the comments.
Zach. Thank you for composing this compilation. Much needed for my soul and a reminder that my strength is found in my weaknesses. Been battling with hopelessness all year long and it culminated devastatingly this last week. With that, however, I have so many beautiful people and opportunities to be grateful for, and I add you, your family, and your ministry to that list.
Needing these to process and cling to as hope feels so elusive and almost extinguished. Wanting to find and be the light we are meant to be, but darkness is oppressive. Praying for strength to stand for all we are called to be not in spite of my fear, but alongside my fear. Struggling. Just struggling.