Paying attention: a prayer of confession

In response to Isaiah 40:21-31

O True Light,
our Constant Companion,
we confess that we have not always paid attention to the signs of Your presence with us;
that, often, we have failed to grasp the immense gift of Your eternal love.
We spend our days scurrying after the insignificant and insubstantial –
worrying about how to get by,
how to compete
how to get ahead,
how to move on,
how to afford what we have,
how to get more,
how to find balance,
how to juggle it all
until we are burnt out, exhausted,
wondering where You are
and why You’ve lost track of us.

Great God who marches out an army of stars each night,
counts them off, and calls them by name,
forgive us for our foolishness
and set us in the firm foundation of Your faithfulness.
Remind us that You have not overlooked a single one of us,
nor a single moment of our circumstances.
As we wait upon You now, give us fresh strength
to persevere,
to hope,
to flourish
in Your presence
and through the power of Your love.

A Lenten Confession

Lenten Prayer
inspired by Isaiah 58:1-12 and the featured image which was sourced from :

Holy God,
Lover of righteousness and truth,
We have come into this place and time
declaring that we are eager to know You;
almost excited to enter into this season of prayer and penitence
for what we might get out of it –
what we might gain –
from the Lord of lords and God of gods
as (s)he gazes down on us from highest heaven
and finds us as expected
~ in the proper place,
~ at the proper time,
~ singing proper songs,
~ raising proper hands,
~ using the proper symbols,
~ making the proper promises ….

Who do we deceive, O Sinless Saviour, besides ourselves?
For You dwell not only in the highest heavens
but also in the hidden depths of our hearts.

What greeting have we given Your Spirit within us?
What does Love see in our secret places
deep beneath the proper postures and props?

We are unapologetic liars,
shameless frauds:
a people who pray for Your Love to live with and within us
even while we point judgmental fingers
and gossip behind each others’ backs.

We put on the right clothes
and bow our heads in apparent submission and humility,
even as the weight of our boots press down heavily
on the necks of those less powerful, less important,
than ourselves.

We give up meat or bread or booze
and declare that truly we have shared in Your suffering,
made an acceptable sacrifice,
when we will not spend a cent
on food for the hungry
or shelter for the refugee.

We even turn away our own flesh and blood,
declaring them unworthy of our help and our compassion.

Violence and hatred smolder throughout our land;
racism and bigotry are birthed daily though our words –
yet we stand with pious faces
and prayerful hands
and accuse You of not intervening.

Forgive us, O God, for our selfishness and sin.
Let Your light break through – into our darkness.
Illuminate the truths from which we long to hide.
Strip away our pretty masks of self-deceit
to touch marred and scarred faces long unseen.
Show us the actual meaning of sacrifice and surrender.
Hold onto us when we cannot bear the discomfort
of this season of wrestling with who we really are.

Bear our shame and give us the courage
to meet You face to face –
in the fullness of Your glory –
that we may come away changed:
~ bone deep, soul deep;
~ not just skin-deep.


Ash Wednesday: a liturgy of stones

Based on Psalm 51 and John 8:1-11

Call to worship (based on Psalm 51)
Have mercy on us O God,
according to Your faithful love!
Wipe away my wrongdoings according to Your great compassion!
Wash us completely clean of our guilt.
Purify us from our sin!
Because I know my wrongdoings,
my guilt weighs heavily within my hands.
We’ve sinned against You – You alone,
committed evil in Your sight.
Yes, I was born in guilt, in sin;
from the moment my mother conceived me I’ve wanted to go my own way.
That’s why You are justified when You render Your verdict,
completely correct when You issue Your judgment.
Purify me with hyssop
and I will be clean.
Wash me and I will be
whiter than snow.
Create a clean heart for me, O God;
and put a new and faithful spirit
deep inside me!

O Lord, Your love for us is too vast for us to comprehend;
its height and width and length and breadth
beyond our shallow imaginings.
Your glory is indescribable,
Your mercy incomparable,
Your faithfulness like nothing
we have ever known.

When we consider who You are
and what You have done for our sake,
we should fall to our knees
in awe and trembling,
knowing how unworthy we are
to enter into Your Holy presence –
so full of sin and selfish ambition.
Instead, we spend our days trying to
build our own kingdoms,
elevating ourselves above all others,
isolating ourselves in a tower of Babel
built stone by stone with selfish hands.

When we consider who You are
and what You have done for our sake,
we should fall to our knees
in awe and trembling,
knowing how unworthy we are
to enter into Your Loving Presence –
so full of judgement and hatred and envy.
Instead, we spend our days casting stones at others:
Words designed to hurt and harm,
Slurs and slander to tear down what we have not earned and do not have,
Judgements and criticisms that cover our own fears and inadequacies.

When we consider who You are
and what You have done for our sake,
we should fall to our knees
in awe and trembling,
knowing how unworthy we are
to enter into Your Perfect Presence –
so full of half-hearted commitment and excuses for not following in Your way.

Instead, we harden our hearts against You and tell You to take us just as we are.
We deafen our ears through the noise of our lives
that Your still, small voice may not disturb us in our guilty pleasure.
We justify our failures, our bad choices, our addictions
though they keep us from wholeness and newness and real life.

Here, at the start of this season of Lent, we sit with the weight of our choices,
our sinfulness, our selfishness in the palm of our hand.
And we know that we are unworthy –
unholy, unloving, imperfect.

Silence is kept

But we remember how on the night that You were betrayed,
You took bread and broke it and gave it
to those who would follow, to those who would fail,
to those who would deny and betray.
This is Your body – broken for me.
I will eat in remembrance of You.

In the same way You took the cup, gave thanks and gave it
to those who would falter, to those who would fall,
to those who would doubt and hide away.
This is Your blood – poured out for me, for the forgiveness of my sin.
I will drink in remembrance of You.

Here, at the start of this season of Lent,
we come to Your table, Lord, knowing that we are unworthy, unholy, unloving and imperfect,
and we fall on our knees in awe and in trembling at who You are
and at what You have done for our sake …
… for my sake.