A darker reflection on the state of mankind....
I was surfing a friendsfriendslist, and ran across one of those "if you think _____ (ie, homophobia, racism, etc) is wrong, repost this," memes. I don't do that, on the chain-letter principle, but this one reminded me strongly of a piece I wrote back in college, during a very difficult year (for friends, for me).
It's not great, but it says what I wanted it to say; and it's still one of the prayers I pray, especially here in Los Angeles.
Oh God. Oh God. How many kinds of pain are there? The sum of the hurts in this world is too great for us to stand.
Jesus be with us, behind us, before us....
The child alone in the house does not understand why his father won’t come home. The woman on the street buys every day of life with lies and filth. The car in the junkyard is the only evidence that someone’s drink stole someone else’s light. The schizophrenic sees double, her mind twisting in on her in a spiral of fear and confusion.
Jesus be in us, beneath us, above us....
The girl who holds the knife to her own wrist can only see more bruises, more forced horror of closeness in the hours to come. The young man breaks a window in his haste to fill the craving of his flesh for the poison that devours it. The couple quarrels and one of them holds the words in bitterness. The baby wails for food that doesn’t exist.
Jesus to the left of us, Jesus to the right of us....
The monitor flatlines and the husband of two years is a widower. The child is born too early; it cannot breathe. A careless word derails the artist’s career. A family breaks with three words, “Mom, I’m gay.”
Jesus in the eyes of all who see us....
And for every one of these a dark, stinking spectrum of variation. An infinitude of sorrows, of pains, of rejections. God, what are we supposed to do in this world? What did you make us for if this is all there is?
Jesus in the ears of all who hear us....
We don’t have words to ease our own grief, much less the despair of those who see the failing of mankind as the loss of all our hopes. If you are real, as I’ve always believed, then, Oh God why do you let this go on?
Jesus in the hearts of all who think of us....
They say you came down and lived like one of us. That all this pain was yours as well, that you know it more intimately than we ever will. I hope that’s true, because only someone who knows this pattern will be able to break it (without breaking us). And that’s all I have to cling to in the dark, the hope that someday a star will descend and light up this choking night.
Jesus in the mouths of all who speak of us....
What right do I have to call down peace? I’m going to ask for it anyways: for peace, for rest, for a respite from this struggle. Fill the empty places of pain with silence, and perhaps we will find the strength to go on. Perhaps.
Uphold us today thorough Your mighty peace,
as we invoke the Three-in-One:
praying with faith in God,
with belief in the Holy Spirit,
with trust in Christ.
Amen.
Amen.
It's not great, but it says what I wanted it to say; and it's still one of the prayers I pray, especially here in Los Angeles.
Oh God. Oh God. How many kinds of pain are there? The sum of the hurts in this world is too great for us to stand.
Jesus be with us, behind us, before us....
The child alone in the house does not understand why his father won’t come home. The woman on the street buys every day of life with lies and filth. The car in the junkyard is the only evidence that someone’s drink stole someone else’s light. The schizophrenic sees double, her mind twisting in on her in a spiral of fear and confusion.
Jesus be in us, beneath us, above us....
The girl who holds the knife to her own wrist can only see more bruises, more forced horror of closeness in the hours to come. The young man breaks a window in his haste to fill the craving of his flesh for the poison that devours it. The couple quarrels and one of them holds the words in bitterness. The baby wails for food that doesn’t exist.
Jesus to the left of us, Jesus to the right of us....
The monitor flatlines and the husband of two years is a widower. The child is born too early; it cannot breathe. A careless word derails the artist’s career. A family breaks with three words, “Mom, I’m gay.”
Jesus in the eyes of all who see us....
And for every one of these a dark, stinking spectrum of variation. An infinitude of sorrows, of pains, of rejections. God, what are we supposed to do in this world? What did you make us for if this is all there is?
Jesus in the ears of all who hear us....
We don’t have words to ease our own grief, much less the despair of those who see the failing of mankind as the loss of all our hopes. If you are real, as I’ve always believed, then, Oh God why do you let this go on?
Jesus in the hearts of all who think of us....
They say you came down and lived like one of us. That all this pain was yours as well, that you know it more intimately than we ever will. I hope that’s true, because only someone who knows this pattern will be able to break it (without breaking us). And that’s all I have to cling to in the dark, the hope that someday a star will descend and light up this choking night.
Jesus in the mouths of all who speak of us....
What right do I have to call down peace? I’m going to ask for it anyways: for peace, for rest, for a respite from this struggle. Fill the empty places of pain with silence, and perhaps we will find the strength to go on. Perhaps.
Uphold us today thorough Your mighty peace,
as we invoke the Three-in-One:
praying with faith in God,
with belief in the Holy Spirit,
with trust in Christ.
Amen.
Amen.