Litany for The Coronavirus Pandemic

O God, source of life, wellspring of health and wholeness, whose love and grace raina down on all creatures: we cry out to you. Holy God, hear our voices as we struggle with the coronavirus pandemic. Listen to your people with compassion, as we pray for all who may be affected by the virus:

O God the Creator, Maker of heaven and earth,

Have mercy upon us.

O God the Son, Redeemer of the world,

Have mercy upon us.

O God the Holy Spirit, Sanctifier of the faithful,

Have mercy upon us.

For government leaders, and all who can reduce the suffering in our communities, our nation, and the world.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For security guards, police, and all who strive to keep the peace in times of great uncertainty.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For nurses, physicians, EMTs, technicians, social workers, therapists, pharmacists, and all who provide health care;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the scientists, medical equipment manufacturers, toilet paper producers, sanitation providers, and all who may hasten the development of vaccines and relief to our miseries.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For hospital, nursing, hospice, palliative, and home care staff and housekeepers who have close contact with patients and the vulnerable;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For truck drivers, bus drivers, train and subway drivers, flight crews, sea captains and their crews, cab drivers, and all who must travel and transport people and food and essential products;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those stocking grocery stores, department stores, convenient stores, discount warehouses, and all who provide us our food and daily necessities;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For bankers, store checkers, restaurant cashiers, financial advisors, and all who handle our money;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For restaurant workers, bartenders, coffee shop baristas, cooks, servers, chefs, dishwashers, waiters, and caterers;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For hotel workers, housekeepers, travel agents, and all who make our journeys possible;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For florists, artists, musicians, actors, singers, authors, and all who fill our lives with beauty and art;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those who provide us with communications, internet, lighting, and electricity so that we may stay informed and find safety during dark times.

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For teachers, professors, coaches, counselors, cafeteria workers, custodians, and all who work at schools and colleges;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For babysitters, daycare staff, family members, and all who teach, watch, and comfort our youngest children;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For those without food or shelter, struggling to maintain their health in a hostile environment;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the poor, the lonely, the vulnerable, the migrants, the isolated, seniors, all the victims of racism especially those targeted by anger and fear of this disease, and all who need protection;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For the lonely, the sick, and those who suffer in mind, body, and spirit;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For clergy, church staff, local and national faith leaders, and all who remind us that we are made in Your image;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who want but cannot get tested;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who are waiting for test results;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who have tested positive to the coronavirus;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who are asked to shelter-in-place;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who are quarantined;

Merciful God, we ask You to protect and sustain them.

For all who have died of the coronavirus and their grieving families;

Merciful God, we ask You to grant the faithfully departed eternal life and peace. Sustain and comfort those who grieve.

Almighty God, who has promised to hear the petitions of those who ask in your Son's Name: We beseech you to mercifully hear us who have now made our prayers and supplications to you; and grant that those things which we have asked faithfully according to your will may be granted to the relief of our great need, and to the setting forth of your glory; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Melvin M Soriano

A Prayer on Fear and Abundance

Gracious God help me.

I fear scarcity. 

I forget the abundance that surrounds me.

I fear of going without food, hence I eat far too much and end up with body image battle scars. 

I fear of not having enough money, which I've had to deal with for most of my life. 

I feared of not getting enough love, which only shows my blindness to the endless love that surrounds me. 

I fear of getting physically and emotionally hurt because I look different, love differently, empathize differently.

Holy Spirit, help me release these fears. Help me release the anxiety about my life, about what I will eat or what I will drink, about my body, about what I wear. Remind me that life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Point me to the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet You feed them. Remind me that my anxieties will not add my name to the book of life, nor add a single hour to my life. Take my feet to the lilies of the field, to see how they grow, how they neither toil nor spin, and abound in beauty and life. Breathe your strength in me and through me and around me so that I may place those fears into the soil, where they can feed my already abundant life rather than bury it.

Remembering... by Forgetting

I meet regularly with a spiritual director. For those who aren't familiar with what a spiritual director does, he or she is not a guru where you follow their directions unchallenged. No, many religious traditions encourage using spiritual guides to help believers on the path of spiritual growth. A spiritual director serves as a resource on your personal journey of faith. A good spiritual director helps you recognize how the Holy Spirit is working in your life. The emphasis is deepening one’s relationship with God - not with the spiritual director.

One of the things that we've been talking about is why I find the Camino de Santiago so important to my spiritual well being. I feel healthier and stronger - spiritually, psychologically, and emotionally. I may have ups and downs with physical well being, for blisters can be pretty painful and thankfully seem to have disappeared as an issue for me. Why does this journey always make me feel closer to God and why don't I find this closeness as easily at home?

To some, I find God easily, in quiet discussions with people, in celebrations of life, in breaking bread with people I'm learning to know. And yet, that doesn't happen all day long. Other times of the day, I become impatient. Or anxious. Or lazy. Or selfish. And I distance myself from that which I enjoy most. I don't act in the way of unconditional love or in gratitude. It's discouraging, frustrating, and more than a little exasperating because I feel like every time I make a step forward, I'm also taking a step back.

I keep thinking to myself, "Stop forgetting what you've learned, whether here or on the Camino". Remember! Don't forget!

At one point earlier this year, my spiritual director pointed out that perhaps I have it backwards. Perhaps I'm not forgetting what I've learned. Instead, I'm remembering all the wrong things. I'm acting reflexively, remembering all the things I've been taught throughout my life, by society, by stress, by bullies, by bigots. I'm remembering it all and I'm never forgetting.

Except when I'm on Camino.

Now, when I first walked the Camino in 2014, I, in fact, did carry all these things I was taught. I didn't ever mention my spouse's name, though I wore a wedding ring. In sharing his name, I would reveal my sexual orientation, and for some reason, like a stone in my backpack that weighed me down, I buried this and hid it from others. And for what benefit? Was I safer? I doubt it. For my reputation? I didn't know any of these people. Why?

It wasn't until that night in Melide when I realized that I wasn't giving space for the Holy Spirit to work in my life that I began to change how I walked the Camino. You can read about that day at "I Lost My Hat and Found My Head". I avoided Jim because he was different. I feared that he was a bigot, with scant evidence and certainly no benefit of the doubt. And in doing so, I was blocking the very messenger that God was sending me.

In walking differently, I started to leave behind those stones, leave behind the things that hurt me. I started to let the Camino, let God, let my fellow travelers protect me, care for me, and love me as I loved them. In that vulnerability, I traveled more simply, more lightly.

And in doing so, I was unlearning - forgetting - all the defense mechanisms and habits that weren't helping me but instead were holding me back.  I shed the memories of pain and hurt and just walked simply, one step at a time.

What my spiritual director noticed was that I remember who I really am when I'm on Camino. And when I do, people see me, feel me, trust me. They feel my love for them because I intentionally won't carry something that will hold me down.

I forget all the stony defenses so that I can remember who I am.

So that I can remember the Me of flesh and blood. The Me created in the image of God. The Me of spiritual craving and me of unending gratitude.

It's ironic, isn't it, that I remember most when I forget all that I've learned. That I had to learn to forget. That I have to learn that I must unlearn.

Perhaps that's why I started many of my camino days with this prayer attributed to Saint Francis. I should remember to say it every morning here at home... so that I can remember to forget.

Lord make me an instrument of your peace Where there is hatred let me sow love Where there is injury, pardon Where there is doubt, faith Where there is despair, hope Where there is darkness, light And where there is sadness, joy Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console to be understood as to understand To be loved as to love For it is in giving that we receive it is in pardoning that we are pardoned And it's in dying that we are born to eternal life Amen

This Little Light of Mine, I'm Gonna Let it Shine

Praying at the Healing Service in Lourdes, France

Many of us said goodbye to Rev. Zelda Kennedy when she retired from All Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena at the beginning of summer. And, as she battled cancer, many family and friends stood by her side to be with her and to ease her way into eternal light. Some of us had a chance to say goodbye one last time before she passed on December 29.

I didn't say goodbye to her in the end, but I did get to give her a big hug, and she's known for her hugs, at a chance meeting at church in November. I didn't feel moved to say anything to her. I thought afterwards that perhaps I should have. But it didn't seem needed or even appropriate at the time. Apparently she didn't either. We hugged and just felt each other's warmth and love. In retrospect, that hug was sacramental. It was a blessing to me, it was my blessing to her, and we acknowledged the divine during that hug.

Zelda touched many of us with her effusive love and joy. She oozed with the Holy Spirit and felt your heart better than most. And she organized pastoral ministries at All Saints Pasadena so that we could be caring, inclusive, and compassionate, with the parish and also with each other. When she faced the end of her time on earth, it was obvious to all that the grieving would be intense.

And it was. There were daily vigils of prayer and story telling from the moment her move to hospice was announced. And after she moved on through that divine veil, we held a nightly novena, a ritualized way to offer prayers both personally and communally. Her North Carolina family and friends said goodbye last week and this past weekend, we in Southern California did. The memorial was profoundly emotional, sad at times and downright joyful at others. With Zelda dancing down the aisles with us, we sang out "This Little Light of Mine".

I've been examining my heart during the past few weeks. The tears flowed freely at first. Sobbing burst from my lungs since July but were just as powerful after Christmas. And I wasn't a confidante. I was just someone who was touched by her, who worked closely with her for several years as the Pastoral Care liaison from the vestry, and as a Labyrinth ministry leader. She opened my eyes to recognize and accept rather than evade and reject gifts of love.

It might not be obvious from this blog, but before I started it, before Zelda touched me during our regular meetings, I resisted opening up, letting people into my heart, revealing my inner self. I was lousy at hiding my inner feelings, but I wouldn't admit them easily until the wounds grew to unbearable sizes. My first long term relationship suffered from this behavior. But things started to change and my journey took a new turn.

And my journey continues to this day.

So what happened during those weeks between Christmas and the memorial on January 13? I pray daily, so that wasn't different. I pray weekly in Taize worship, and that has in the past made big impacts on me. But I was praying communally, like in Taize, daily during this time. Somehow, in some way, I felt that community prayer working on me.

How is that possible? What was it about repetitious, chanting prayer that comfort many people like me? I don't know the answer but I do know that it's a salve. I get to share my open wound with others as they share theirs with me.

But we don't dwell on the wounds. We repeat our prayers. We acknowledge the pain, and focus on prayer. Together. And it brings life. Like the Lord stitching a baby together in her mother's womb, like the scab stitching together the edges of cut skin, the prayers bind us together into living tissue, living cells that come together and become living membranes, living tissue, living beings.

We become alive when we are stitched together in prayer.

Perhaps that's why I ask for your prayers often. Or why many ask me for mine. We pray so that the light shines on us. On all of us. On all parts of us.

Including the wounds. Because as the mystic Rumi once said, it's in the wounds where the light enters our being.

Let that little light shine. Let it shine on us all. On all parts of us. And like Zelda, be the little light that shines on others.

I am lucky

I am lucky.

I was born to a Christian family

      and raised in predominantly Christian countries.
I am a minority, and got in fights as I was called a "chink",

      but never got seriously hurt.
I am brown, played cops and robbers,

      but never got shot.
I am an immigrant

      but never had to contend with uprooting my family like my parents did.
I am male

      and thus never experienced misogyny directed towards me.
I am gay, and had to endure name calling and fear, 

      but have outrun attackers the two times I was chased by gay bashers.
I am cis-gendered

      and have cried with my friends because I can only guess how awful it must be

      to feel like your body doesn't match how God made you.
I have genes that give me health issues, 

      but I am strong and reasonably fit for my age.
I've seen accidents, drugs, and disease

      and yet I'm still standing because I've had medical insurance.
I have had psychological crises that necessitated intervention,

      but I had counseling and care.

I'm damn lucky.

Not everyone is lucky -- or privileged, or whatever word you want to use.
It's not just to think them weak or call them snowflakes because they don't have what I have.

Blessed are those who haven't had the same luck.
God, help me be an outward blessing in their lives

And thank you God for surrounding me with blessings and angels, 

      whether friend, family, or stranger, 

      who walk with me in my life

Beatitudes 2.1

As All Saints' Day and All Souls Day arrive, I start to think about the blessings all around us, the cloud of witnesses who came and laid down the pavement for us to walk upon but are no longer physically present. And it seems fitting that the readings this coming All Saints' Day (November 1) are the beatitudes as laid down in Luke 6:20-31. It's slightly different from the beatitudes of Matthew 5:3-12.

Here's the one in Luke

Blessed are you who are poor,     for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now,     for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now,     for you will laugh. Blessed are you when people hate you,     when they exclude you and insult you     and reject your name as evil,         because of the Son of Man.  Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets. But woe to you who are rich,     for you have already received your comfort. Woe to you who are well fed now,     for you will go hungry. Woe to you who laugh now,     for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you,     for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets. Luke 6:20-31

In comparison, here's the one in Matthew.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn,    for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek,    for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,    for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful,    for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart,    for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers,    for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds    of evil against you because of me. Matthew 5:3-12

It seems that the reading for today is focused more heavily on those who are truly poor and the one in Matthew focuses on the ones who are poor in spirit. They are both in the Gospel and I am inclined to think that both are equally important for us to ponder. In many ways, I conflate the two and think Christ was focused on all the poor in society, body, and spirit.

Last year, I blogged about creating my own list of the blessed, the Beatitudes 2.0 if you will. It came a presentation when Nadia Bolz-Weber visited to All Saints Pasadena and she offered her list. My list came out to be as follows

Blessed are the poor in spirit,     the spiritual but not religious     the seekers of their authentic selves     the suffering who begin to doubt because the pain never seems to end     the sick who fear their own bodies     the stranger in our midst who needs a smile, a hug, a friend     the child afraid to venture outside lest the bullying return     the scared who fear coming home lest they return to a place of anger and judgment for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn,     the spouse who lost the person they've loved deeper than we can understand     the lovers who no longer find the trust and joy in each other's arms and say goodbye     the child who doesn't understand why her parent won't be coming home anymore     the friends who viewed a couple as one, as was meant to be, but now just find hollow eyes     the family shocked at the loss of someone taken too soon by gun violence     the relatives whose loss is viewed by others as collateral damage     the breaking hearts who did not even have a chance to say goodbye     the silent who must watch dementia steal someone's memories away leaving just a body for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek,     the teenager who stays in the closet, fearing that the name of their love will be discovered     the pained who turn to the bottle or to pills to give them strength and energy     the thinker and artist that lacks the opportunity to share     the pastors who heal others but wonder who will tend to them     the friend who realizes that somehow their bodies and souls don't fit a M/F binary     the nurse who washes our sores       the friend that listens to hear us, watches to see us, and grabs our hands to hold us for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,     the foreigner who is told to leave and go to a place of fear and hunger     the friends who cannot walk down the street in a hoodie or even complain about injustice     the mother who just wants to get affordable medical care to plan a family     the inmate facing the final judgment of Man and not our Creator     the families torn apart because of arbitrary rules regarding homeland     the kneeling who face violence because of their love for God, YHWH, Allah, Buddha, Shiva, ...     the proud who won't let others impose their bigotries on them for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful,     the heros who take care of us behind our backs     the friends that know all will benefit from roads, sanitation, health, protection, education     the families who reach out and adopt and care for all children, not just those that look like them     the older sibling, real or implied, who has our backs     the comadre and compadre who listen to our problems without judging us     the teacher who gives of their own time to care for that special child     the mother and father, sister and brother, who just want you to be happy for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart,     the custodians at the church, homeless shelter, and hospital     the teachers who want the most for your child     the person at the grocery line who lets you cut in front of them     the staff at the store and restaurant that share the bathroom even if you didn't or can't buy anything     the ranger who tends to our land so that future generations can marvel at Creation     the homeowner who sees you lost, gives you water, and guides you home     the friend who gives you a ride, cares for a prisoner, plants flowers on a trail for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers,     the police and judiciary that understand that true safety starts in trust     the people who unite us as a human family, rather than divide us like spoils of war     the artists, writers, and musicians who inspire us to love and compassion     the fire crew that calms the fearful neighborhood     the military who put their lives on the line for our protection and not for their glory     the unknown missionary who lies in a shallow grave for the civil rights of brothers and sisters     the good Samaritan whose name we never knew, or whose face we've already forgotten for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,     the ones who care for the Children of God          ignoring false idols          ignoring their own egos          ignoring the sense of their own righteousness for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Perhaps because I've spent my career in software, I thought I would revisit this list and made some changes. I do this not because some things are less blessed than others but because sometimes, with the filter of time, you start to see things differently. I put in italics the areas that changed.

Blessed are those guided or seek guidance by a higher power     the poor in spirit,     the spiritual but not religious     the pious and self-righteous     the broken one feeling the weight of their perceived sins     the seekers of their authentic selves     the suffering who begin to doubt because the pain never seems to end     the sick who fear their own bodies     the stranger in our midst who needs a smile, a hug, a friend     the child afraid to venture outside lest the bullying return     the scared who fear coming home lest they return to a place of anger and judgment for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn,     the spouse who lost the person they've loved deeper than we can understand     the lovers who no longer find the trust and joy in each other's arms and say goodbye     the child who doesn't understand why her parent won't be coming home anymore     the friends who viewed a couple as one, as was meant to be, but now just find hollow eyes     the family shocked at the loss of someone taken too soon by gun violence     the relatives whose loss is viewed by others as collateral damage     the breaking hearts who did not even have a chance to say goodbye     the silent who must watch dementia steal someone's memories away leaving just a body for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek,     the woman who must remain meek and the man who must not be meek     the teenager who stays in the closet, fearing that the name of their love will be discovered     the pained who turn to the bottle or to pills to give them strength and energy     the thinker and artist that lacks the opportunity to share     the pastors who heal others but wonder who will tend to them     the neighbor who realizes that somehow their bodies and souls don't fit a M/F binary     the nurse who washes our sores         the friend that listens to hear us, watches to see us, and grabs our hands to hold us     the person down the hall whom we intentionally or unintentionally oppress for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,     the foreigner who is told to leave and go to a place of fear and hunger     the friends who cannot walk down the street in a hoodie or even complain about injustice     the mother who just wants to get affordable medical care to plan a family     the inmate facing the final judgment of Man and not our Creator     the families torn apart because of arbitrary rules regarding homeland     the kneeling who face violence because of their love for God, YHWH, Allah, Buddha, Shiva, ...     the proud who won't let others impose their bigotries on them     the neighbor whose land was taken & defiled by governments, industry, oil, & ourselves for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful,     the heros who take care of us behind our backs     the friends that know all will benefit from roads, sanitation, health, protection, education     the families who reach out and adopt and care for all children, not just those that look like them     the older sibling, real or implied, who has our backs     the comadre and compadre who listen to our problems without judging us     the teacher who gives of their own time to care for that special child     the mother and father, sister and brother, who just want you to be happy for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart,     the custodians at the church, homeless shelter, and hospital     the teachers who want the most for your child     the person at the grocery line who lets you cut in front of them     the staff at the store and restaurant that share the bathroom even if you didn't or can't buy anything     the ranger who tends to our land so that future generations can marvel at Creation     the homeowner who sees you lost, gives you water, gives you refuge, and guides you home     the friend who gives you a ride, cares for a prisoner, plants flowers on a trail for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers,     the police and judiciary that understand that true safety starts in trust     the people who unite us as a human family, rather than divide us like spoils of war     the artists, writers, and musicians who inspire us to love and compassion     the fire crew that calms the fearful neighborhood     the military who put their lives on the line for our protection and not for their glory     the unknown missionary who lies in a shallow grave for the civil rights of brothers and sisters     the good Samaritan whose name we never knew, or whose face we've already forgotten for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,     the ones who care for the Children of God          ignoring false idols          ignoring their own egos          ignoring the sense of their own righteousness for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

In your world, what are YOUR beatitudes? And in your heart, who do you bless as Jesus would bless?

Walking through the Valley of Death - A Lenten Meditation

I felt called to walk, take a detour back from my parents' home near Las Vegas towards my home in Los Angeles county. Instead of the direct route, I drove through and hiked around in Death Valley.

Normally, Death Valley is a vast expanse of desolation. The name is appropriate. The lowest point in the US can be found in Death Valley, in a spot aptly called Badwater. There, the ground is so parched that the runoff water flows in loaded with minerals and evaporates into an expanse of almost pure salt. It looks like snow.  And unlike snow, it doesn't quench or nourish. It might trick you into thinking so, but it does quite the opposite.

The salt poisons and dries you out even further.

We humans have used salts for thousands of years to preserve foods and as part of our burial functions. It flavors our food, but its functional usefulness has mostly been for keeping dead things in a useful state of prolonged death. Yet, it's not about preserving life. Nor is it about expediting death. It's about making the process of death interminably prolonged and unnatural.

I pondered these thoughts during my sojourn because my dear friend Carol was in the Intensive Care Unit here in Los Angeles County. Her health had been deteriorating and many of her functions were grinding to a halt. In fact, while I was away in Vegas, she lost consciousness and had been sleeping for several days.

I normally take this detour once a year because in February, the flowers bloom in the desert. You see, it doesn't rain often in Southern California, much less in the deserts. So when winter rains come, it's an ideal time to head to the drylands and marinate in the glorious flowers that bloom ever so briefly in the wasteland.

For you see, Death Valley isn't actually dead. It's in a state of suspended animation. Like a body preserved in salt, it's in between that place of the living and the dead.

And this year, I was in for a treat. I didn't know it, but I was stepping into what is known as a Superbloom. Even though El Nino hasn't been as powerful in Southern California as expected, there were still greater rains than we've experienced in years. And, the melting snow runoff from the Sierra Nevada mountains help contribute to the meager waters of Death Valley.

So the flowers had not only returned, they were raging. Exploding. Shimmering. Blossoms spanned from the walls of the mountain cliffs to the very edge of the deadly salt basins. Yellow Evening Primrose flowers 1-3 feet in height made it look more like a field in France than a desert mortuary.

And in between the yellow flowers, there were delicate 6 inch tall purple Phacelias flowers. They hid carefully, almost shyly, under the larger, extroverted yellows. And quietly in between the purples, there were white flowers even more bashful than their purple sisters.

Then you kneel on the ground. You sit on the edge of a ravine to soak in nature. You bend over to take a photo. And you realize, there, in plain sight but not visible from normal human eye levels, were lovely delicate purple pink flowers known as purple mat.

The purple mat was everywhere and yet when you weren't looking, you could have passed by not noticing the vibrant life. You could have assumed that life stood still. Even while you're noticing the raging yellow primrose, you don't notice that there's so much more alive, so much more life, than meets the eye.

And, if you're lucky enough, brave enough, patient enough, you can stay into the night. This happened to be a full moon drive to start this trip so I got to see the desert in a peculiar moonlit coloration. If you get out of your car, walk a little, sit a little, you'll hear the sounds of animals scurrying around on the rocks and sand.

They hide during the painfully hot days and come out in the evening. Even in the winter, when it's necessary for the reptiles to come out and absorb some of the sun's warmth, they do most of their foraging or hunting at night.

Life rages on in the desert.

I visited Carol the day after my hikes and chatted with her husband. They're such a loving couple. Though she was still not conscious, I prayed with them, shared some healing waters I brought back from Lourdes, France, and shared in their pain. I missed my good friend Michael, Carol's cousin, as I left just before he got there.

And on Friday, during some meetings, I wept, when I heard that Carol's condition was taking a turn for the worst.

And yesterday, the family took her off life support.

And today, she moved on.

Carol always tells me that she loves watching my travel on Facebook. She and Jeff get to live out exciting trips vicariously whenever their families and friends post photos and thoughts online. She seems particularly excited during dinners together to discuss the trips as well.

I have no doubt that when I walked through Death Valley, I was walking among the flowers with Carol. That I was gazing in awe at the same moon. That we prayed for the same love eternal.

I have no doubt that Carol's organ donations will bring life anew to others in ways we can only imagine. Her eyes evidently will be a gift to someone shortly. Her sight, her vision, her way of seeing life in the stony rock wall.

I have no doubt that I was gazing at life made new in Death Valley. That life is there even when it looks like the land is barren. Here you stand in the middle of a salty wasteland as far as you can see, and yet on the edge of that wasteland, life encroaches, approaches, ventures to its very edge.

It's the tears falling from skies and from our hearts that waters the gritty sand, bringing those long forgotten seeds just enough love and attention to bring a torrent of life's energy anew.

And after the blooms fade, after the glories fall petal by petal back down to the earth, new seeds are strewn into the wind. We can't see them, but they're spreading, waiting for another opportunity to spring alive once again.

The salt may keep life in a state of prolonged preservation, in a condition of suspended animation. It's not death. It's not life.

But life ever beautiful, ever delicate, ever bold, ever precious, can lie beside the salty ground waiting to return.

Thank you for walking with me on every one of my journeys, Carol and for
calling me to see the lovely reminder to be loving, hopeful, and alive.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Beatitudes 2.0

Photo by Christina Honchell

Lutheran Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber came to visit All Saints Pasadena once again, this time with her new book "Accidental Saints". I was working the photo booth but got especially excited when I was asked to lead the final hymn Amazing Grace, after her presentation finished.

It was the culmination of an hour of talks, filled with prayers and stories that touched all of us in the church. Theologically, there wasn't anything that differed markedly from what we at All Saints Pasadena usually hear from our pulpit. What felt different was her delivery.

She's direct and to the point. She doesn't shirk from swearing. Nadia sticks to being her authentic self. She did confide that she's had discussions in the past with her bishop about her communication style, but by being true to herself, she shows herself to be more honest and believable in her relationship with God.

That's not to say that those who don't swear have an untrue relationship. She just won't change herself superficially just to be polite.

One of the most moving moments was when Nadia shared her modern Beatitudes. I include them here for you.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are the agnostics. Blessed are they who doubt. Those who aren’t sure, who can still be surprised. Blessed are they who are spiritually impoverished and therefore not so certain about everything that they no longer take in new information. Blessed are those who have nothing to offer. Blessed are they for whom nothing seems to be working. Blessed are the pre-schoolers who cut in line at communion. Blessed are the poor in spirit. You are of heaven and Jesus blesses you. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.Blessed are they for whom death is not an abstraction. Blessed are they who have buried their loved ones, for whom tears are as real as an ocean. Blessed are they who have loved enough to know what loss feels like. Blessed are the mothers of the miscarried. Blessed are they who don’t have the luxury of taking things for granted any more. Blessed are they who can’t fall apart because they have to keep it together for everyone else. Blessed are the motherless, the alone, the ones from whom so much has been taken. Blessed are those who “still aren’t over it yet.” Blessed are they who laughed again when for so long they thought they never would. Blessed are those who mourn. You are of heaven and Jesus blesses you. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who no one else notices. The kids who sit alone at middle-school lunch tables. The laundry guys at the hospital. The sex-workers and the night shift street sweepers. Blessed are the losers and the babies and the parts of ourselves that are so small. The parts of ourselves that don’t want to make eye contact with a world that only loves the winners. Blessed are the forgotten. Blessed are the closeted. Blessed are the unemployed, the unimpressive, the underrepresented. Blessed are the teens who have to figure out ways to hide the new cuts on their arms. Blessed are the meek. You are of heaven and Jesus blesses you. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the wrongly accused, the ones who never catch a break, the ones for whom life is hard – for they are those with whom Jesus chose to surround himself. Blessed are those without documentation. Blessed are the ones without lobbyists. Blessed are foster kids and trophy kids and special ed kids and every other kid who just wants to feel safe and loved and never does. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Blessed are they who know there has to be more than this. Because they are right. Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. Blessed are those who make terrible business decisions for the sake of people. Blessed are the burnt-out social workers and the over worked teachers and the pro-bono case takers. Blessed are the kids who step between the bullies and the weak. Blessed are they who delete hateful, homophobic comments off their friend’s Facebook page. Blessed are the ones who have received such real grace that they are no longer in the position of ever deciding who the “deserving poor” are. Blessed is everyone who has ever forgiven me when I didn’t deserve it. Blessed are the merciful for they totally get it.

As you can see she took the original and expanded them with examples that may resonate more effectively to the modern ear, especially here in the USA. The original Beatitudes are from the Sermon on the Mount and are in Matthew 5:3-11.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,     for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn,     for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek,     for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,     for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful,     for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart,     for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers,     for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,     for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.

I can't stop thinking about this updated list. It's similar but it focuses on things that are more tangible, more direct. They arise from stories in the pews and in the streets. She didn't change the blessings. She painted real faces, faces awash in tears, of those who the blessings are poured upon.

So since her talk, I've been thinking about my own examples of the Beatitudes. Her examples are from her ministry. We all have different ministries and my will seem different from hers. After much reflection, I find the my list to be already formed in my head but, until now, not written down.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,     the spiritual but not religious     the seekers of their authentic selves     the suffering who begin to doubt because the pain never seems to end     the sick who fear their own bodies     the stranger in our midst who needs a smile, a hug, a friend     the child afraid to venture outside lest the bullying return     the scared who fear coming home lest they return to a place of anger and judgment for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn,     the spouse who lost the person they've loved deeper than we can understand     the lovers who no longer find the trust and joy in each other's arms and say goodbye     the child who doesn't understand why her parent won't be coming home anymore     the friends who viewed a couple as one, as was meant to be, but now just find hollow eyes     the family shocked at the loss of someone taken too soon by gun violence     the relatives whose loss is viewed by others as collateral damage     the breaking hearts who did not even have a chance to say goodbye     the silent who must watch dementia steal someone's memories away leaving just a body for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek,     the teenager who stays in the closet, fearing that the name of their love will be discovered     the pained who turn to the bottle or to pills to give them strength and energy     the thinker and artist that lacks the opportunity to share     the pastors who heal others but wonder who will tend to them     the friend who realizes that somehow their bodies and souls don't fit a M/F binary     the nurse who washes our sores         the friend that listens to hear us, watches to see us, and grabs our hands to hold us for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,     the foreigner who is told to leave and go to a place of fear and hunger     the friends who cannot walk down the street in a hoodie or even complain about injustice     the mother who just wants to get affordable medical care to plan a family     the inmate facing the final judgment of Man and not our Creator     the families torn apart because of arbitrary rules regarding homeland     the kneeling who face violence because of their love for God, YHWH, Allah, Buddha, Shiva, ...     the proud who won't let others impose their bigotries on them for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful,     the heros who take care of us behind our backs     the friends that know all will benefit from roads, sanitation, health, protection, education     the families who reach out and adopt and care for all children, not just those that look like them     the older sibling, real or implied, who has our backs     the comadre and compadre who listen to our problems without judging us     the teacher who gives of their own time to care for that special child     the mother and father, sister and brother, who just want you to be happy for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart,     the custodians at the church, homeless shelter, and hospital     the teachers who want the most for your child     the person at the grocery line who lets you cut in front of them     the staff at the store and restaurant that share the bathroom even if you didn't or can't buy anything     the ranger who tends to our land so that future generations can marvel at Creation     the homeowner who sees you lost, gives you water, and guides you home     the friend who gives you a ride, cares for a prisoner, plants flowers on a trail for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers,     the police and judiciary that understand that true safety starts in trust     the people who unite us as a human family, rather than divide us like spoils of war     the artists, writers, and musicians who inspire us to love and compassion     the fire crew that calms the fearful neighborhood     the military who put their lives on the line for our protection and not for their glory     the unknown missionary who lies in a shallow grave for the civil rights of brothers and sisters     the good Samaritan whose name we never knew, or whose face we've already forgotten for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,     the ones who care for the Children of God          ignoring false idols          ignoring their own egos          ignoring the sense of their own righteousness for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

May you find examples of the beatitudes in your own life and live out the meaning of God's blessings. I invite you to share them with me, for in sharing your views of blessing, you bless me with your insight and love.

Another Day, Another Horror Story

Why must we march through life accepting hellish conditions? (photo July, 2015)

Another day another mass murder in the US. We've become sadly immune at times to listen to run of the mill mass murders of only 3 people. It takes something on the scale of Roseberg, Oregon's campus shooting to grab our attention. Or the church shooting in South Carolina. Or dozens of tiny children at Newtown.

That's why yesterday, a day when everyone was focused on the revolting news arising from Oregon, we didn't even hear about other mass murders that were unfolding. In Florida, a man shot his wife, her boyfriend, and a Good Samaritan trying to intervene and help, before committing suicide. The boyfriend is hanging on to his life but the others have died. This did not make the headlines, probably because unlike Oregon, it's become too common and two of the victims knew the assailant.

That's right. It's not worthy of news, of our attention, because it happens too often. These poor souls don't get the opportunity for our grieving and for our prayers because their deaths were pedestrian. Just average gun deaths.

A painful malaise has gripped us in the face of all this gun violence. I was wondering what snapped in me yesterday though. I immediately posted a comment "No no no... Prayers for the families of Oregon" (Facebook). But it wasn't enough. I felt that the passive acceptance was no longer tenable.

And I was actually confused by my reaction. I wasn't just sad. I was angry. Angry at the system, yes, but also our acceptance of Sheol, of hellish conditions on earth, of living in a burning rubbish pit. I didn't understand why I felt differently, and not happily doing my prayers.

I noticed a comment online from a former employee who wrote "Forget peace and comfort in Oregon. I am praying for angry, world-changing grief. ‪#‎UCCShooting‬" . That was it. That's what I was feeling. I was tired of praying for after the fact consolation of grieving and the dead. Not that I wouldn't, but that I felt it insufficient. I wanted more.

So I wrote online "Praying for resilience and world-changing grief so that prayers for victims and families will no longer be necessary. Praying for a quiet love that is more powerful than the clanging cymbal. Praying that our eyes and ears grown desensitized to these daily horrors can guide our hands and feet and hearts to still the red-tinged waters of the land." (Facebook)

And I felt empowered by this. I think we all can feel empowered. Remember when personal computers were becoming common place but were a mystery to most people? And Apple computer, during the 1984 Superbowl, unveiled an ad that said that the unveiling of the Macintosh computer will show why 1984 (the year) will not be like 1984 (the book). Catch the ad on YouTube. It was memorable because it promised hope that we did not have to accept the doubleplus goodspeak being fed to us.

I felt like we needed to throw our hammers at the military industrial complex that perpetuates this circle of horror. I saw my culpability as unacceptable any more. And I wondered if others felt the same way, though I didn't want that to stop me from doing something about it.

And I saw more posts from others. More comments of resolve. And by evening, there was a statement by the USA President Obama. And a statement by Rector Ed Bacon of All Saints Church in Pasadena. The feeling of exasperation was palpable last night. (Ed Bacon's statement)

Do I expect things to change? Will the National Rifle Association once again be able to convince us that we need to sit down, pray, grieve respectfully, and look at this as a mental health problem not a gun problem, well after the fact. And then watch as the NRA finances politicians who defund health care at the local through national level. Or as they finance politicians who defund health care and benefits to military veterans, people who actually know how to use these weapons, but are now left sick, untreated, frustrated, scared, angry, and armed. Or as they throw out arguments that it's pointless to ban weapons because bans don't work, but then finance politicians who support bans on drugs, abortions, minority voting access, or marriage equality.

I don't personally support gun bans, just like I don't support these other bans. I think that personal responsibility must be taken. We need licensing, certification, and regular training requirements, across the board from the local level on up. The gun industry must be made accountable for the development of dangerous products, just like the auto and other industries. And even though the relationship is not causal in any way, we have to address the popular scapegoat. If it's mental that's being blamed, we need real mental health financing with information that influences the licensing of gun ownership. We don't license the blind to drive; we shouldn't license unfit gun owners. Australia reformed their gun laws in 1996 in the wake of their worst mass murder incident. They haven't had a repeat in the two decades since.

We need accountability not complicity from law enforcement. Umpqua Community College's local Sheriff John Hanlin had once sent a letter to President Obama stating that he would never comply with gun ordinances from the national level. Is that treason or another Kim Davis situation where the government official needs to be removed from office for not upholding the laws? Either way, he's still sheriff, and in my opinion has some blood on his hands.

As do we all. When we sit idly by, spectators in the bloodbath of this Colosseum arena, we abet the continuation of this travesty. That's why my prayer today is different. 

Feeling gratitude that many are no longer willing to stand in prayer and then stand aside, that instead of standing in a circle of passivity and defensiveness, we stand together marching forward. My prayers for grief AND action yesterday have been echoed by many.

I today pray for forgiveness for not doing enough to create a safe place for all made in Her image, for allowing an idolatrous love to flourish unchallenged, for living in a house of fear rather than the house of love we want to call home.

Please stand with me and with others who want to part the red-tinged waters that threaten to drown us. Let's confront the irrational biases against any form of sensible reform. Let's hold hands and say that rather than waiting for someone to feed us, we should learn to fish and feed ourselves. We don't have to sit idly by, praying, accepting the temptation of easy resignation. We can walk through the valley of peace together.

Camino de Santiago - This Pilgrim's Prayers (Preparing #10)

Celtic prayers while
sitting in the center of Iona Abbey, Scotland
on the longest day of the year: June, 2013

In my last blog entry, I talked about the people and places that are on my prayer list during my walk along the Camino de Santiago. Of course, I'll be praying with specific thoughts of love and peace specific for each situation. I'll also be praying in a general manner, with set prayers that ring true to me and, by binding me to God, set me free.

I'll start with the classic Pilgrim's prayer. This prayer goes back almost 900 years. It's almost certain that St Francis walked the Camino with this prayer upon his lips.

Pilgrim’s Prayer / Codex Calixtinus – 12th Century

God, You called your servant Abraham from Ur in Chaldea,
watching over him in all his wanderings,
and guided the Hebrew people as they crossed the desert.

Guard these your children who, for love of your Name, make a pilgrimage to Compostela. 

Be their companion on the way,
their guide at the crossroads,
their strength in weariness,
their defense in dangers,
their shelter on the path,
their shade in the heat,
their light in darkness,
their comfort in discouragement,
and the firmness of their intentions,
that through your guidance they may arrive safely at the end of their journey
and, enriched with grace and virtue,
may return to their homes filled with salutary and lasting joy.

---

In addition to this standard prayer, I have compiled a list of prayers that will spring from my lips every morning. Some are words alone. Some are lyrics to hymns that serve as prayers in and of themselves. I'll recite them every morning on my walk. I imagine that they will give me strength and fortify me against adversity.

Prayer attributed to St Patrick

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
May the rains fall soft upon your fields
and until we meet again
may God hold you in the palm of Her hand.

Prayer attributed to St Francis

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is discord, harmony;
Where there is error, truth;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

Grant that we may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
And it is in dying that we are brought back to eternal life.

Blue Green Hills of Earth

For the earth forever turning,
For the land, for skies and sea,
To our Source we sing returning
Home to our blue green hills of earth.

For the mountains, hills and pastures
In their silent majesty
For the stars, for all the heavens
Sing we our joyful praise to Thee.

For the sun, for rain and thunder,
For the seasons’ harmony,
For our lives, for all creation
Sing we our joyful praise to Thee.

For the earth forever turning,
For the land which gave us birth,
To our Source we sing returning
Home to the blue green hills of earth.

Somos un pueblo que camina

We are people on a journey
pain is with us all the way
acudamos jubilosos a la santa comunión. 

God has sent the invitation
to the humble and the poor.
acudamos jubilosos a la santa comunión. 

This is bread that God provides us
nourishing our unity.
acudamos jubilosos a la santa comunión. 

Christ is ever present with us
to unite us all in love.
acudamos jubilosos a la santa comunión. 

All who truly thirst for justice
seek their liberation here.
acudamos jubilosos a la santa comunión.

With gratitude and humble trust

As saints of old their first fruits brought
of orchard, flock, and field
to God the giver of all good,
the source of bounteous yield;
so we today first fruits would bring:
the wealth of this good land,
of farm and market, shop and home,
of mind, and heart, and hand.

A world in need now summons us
to labor, love, and give;
to make our life an offering
that others too may live.
The Church of Christ is calling us
to make the dream come true:
a world redeemed, your kingdom come,
all life in Christ made new.

With gratitude and humble trust
we bring our best today,
to serve your cause and share your love
with all humanity.
O God, who gave yourself to us
in Jesus Christ your Son,
teach us to give ourselves each day
until life's work is done.

Take my life and let it be

Take my life and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
*Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in endless praise.

Take my hands and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.

Take my voice and let me sing,
Always, only for my King.
Take my lips and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.

Take my silver and my gold,
Not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect and use
Every pow’r as Thou shalt choose.

Take my will and make it Thine,
It shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own,
It shall be Thy royal throne.

Take my love, my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee

Day by Day

Day by day, dear Lord of Thee three things I pray
To see the more clearly
Love thee more dearly
Follow thee more nearly
Day by day

God be in my Head

God be in my Head and in My understanding
God be in mine eyes and in my looking
God be in my mouth and in my speaking
God be in my heart and in my thinking
God be at mine end and at my departing

Guide Me O Though Great Redeemer

Guide me, O thou great redeemer,Pilgrim through this barren land;I am weak, but thou art mighty,Hold me with thy powerful hand;Bread of heaven, bread of heavenFeed me till I want no more;Feed me till I want no more. 

Open now the crystal fountainWhence the healing stream doth flow;Let the fire and cloudy pillarLead me all my journey through:Strong deliverer, strong deliverer;Be thou still my strength and shield;Be thou still my strength and shield. 

When I tread the verge of Jordan,Bid my anxious fears subside;Death of death, and hell's destructionLand me safe on Canaan's side:Songs of praises, songs of praises,I will ever give to thee;I will ever give to thee.

Santo Santo Santo

Santo, santo, santo
Mi corazón te adora
Mi corazón sabe decir
Santo eres Senor

Seek Ye First

Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God
And His righteousness
And all these things shall be added unto you
Allelu Alleluia

Man shall not live by bread alone
But by every word
That proceeds from the mouth of God
Allelu Alleluia

Ask and it shall be given unto you
Seek and ye shall find
Knock and the door shall be opened unto you
Allelu Alleluia

An Apache prayer

May the sun bring you energy by day
May the moon softly restore you by night
May the rain wash away your worries
May the breeze blow new strength into your being
May you walk gently through the world and know its beauty all the days of your life

Thank you and bless you for joining me on this transformational journey.

I leave Los Angeles on September 10 and land in Spain September 11.

Please walk with me by donating to Episcopal Relief and Development

Subscribe to the "Let All Who Are Thirsty Come" blog.

Prior blog postings regarding the the Camino
Camino de Santiago - Introduction (Preparing #1)

Camino de Santiago - Pilgrimage (Preparing #2)

Camino de Santiago - Going Alone, Together (Preparing #3)
 Camino de Santiago - Lasciate omni speranza (Preparing #4)
Camino de Santiago - Walking with Those in Need (Preparing #5)
Camino de Santiago - Cruz de Ferro (Preparing #6)
Camino de Santiago - Capo de Finisterre (Preparing #7)
Camino de Santiago - What's on the Playlist? (Preparing #8)
Camino de Santiago - What's on the Praylist? (Preparing #9)
Camino de Santiago - This Pilgrim's Prayers (Preparing #10)
Camino de Santiago - The Way (Preparing #11)
Camino de Santiago - The Road Not Taken (Preparing #12)