Remember
me according to Your love and for the sake of Your goodness, Oh LORD.
Psalm 25:2
Be still, and know that I am
God. Psalm 46:10
The
gift of liturgy is that it helps us hear less of our own little voices and more
of God’s still, small voice. It leads away from self and points us toward the
community of God. God is a plurality of oneness. God has “lived in community”
from eternity as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God as Trinity is the core
reality of the universe, and that means that the core of reality is
community. -Claiborne
My own
little voice is what I am trying to silence. And it is a lot easier to do it
painting Somali refugee children faces like clowns and pumpkins and
butterflies. And harder to do it walking Sabino Canyon alone, even if you keep
singing Your love oh Lord reaches to the
heavens, Your faithfulness stretches to the sky every time you sense
yourself sliding off track.
We
must connect our prayers to the rest of God’s children throughout the world and
through all time and space, people who are reading the same Scriptures, singing
the same songs, praying the same prayers, and grafting their lines into the
same old story of a God who is forming a people who are set apart from the
world to be God’s light and to show the world what a society of love looks
like.
-Claiborne
-Claiborne
And Amy did a little exercise
before we went over to the Oasis apartment complex. We ripped a piece of paper
into sixteen pieces. On four squares we wrote Four things we liked to do, on
four more we wrote things we were thankful for, then four favorite people, and
lastly four roles that we play, like teacher, mother, wife and friend. Of
course, the first step was to select one square from each pile and rip it up
and throw it on the floor. Then we had to randomly select one from each pile
and rip it up and throw it on floor without peeking as to what it was that we
lost. Then Amy and her friend skipped around the circle and grabbed or didn’t
grab handfuls of paper slips and rip them up and throw them up in the air. And
some people lost them all, some one, some, like me, lost nothing more. And
these are our refugees and their loss.
And this morning on my way out
to Sabino Canyon, NPR had a story told by a reporter who was visiting this tiny
little town in Turkey one mile from the Syrian border, when overnight tens of
thousands descend onto the town, fleeing ISIS. And it costs 35 million dollars
a week to feed Syrian refugees and the WFP is running out of money. And when a food
truck is delivering food from Damascus, they are stopped at more than forty or
fifty checkpoints.
And all of this puts Tucson
potholes in shameful perspective.
Prayer:
Lord, teach us
to pray without ceasing, even when words escape us, and to work toward your
kingdom, even when we cannot see it. Amen.
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