Dazzling God, from the hallows of heaven, you came down to this earth, right here among us, to pitch your tent and dwell among your creation. In Jesus, you came for light to pierce every darkness. But too often, our hearts are trapped in the shadows, worn down by the wicked, despairing by all that seems to eclipse your light. God, we wonder: how could such evil harm your generous creation? So make your light plain for us again. Turn our attention to the sacred in our midst. Give us eyes to marvel at the sparrow and the lily, the rising of the sun and its setting, the ordinary acts of justice and compassion from one neighbor to the next. When we slip into distraction or indifference, grow our awe at your presence in and among this world.
Healing God, into the depths of despair, you take up residence where love feels scarce and joy is but a mirage. In Jesus, you came as balm and comforter, suffering in solidarity with those whose crosses dot the horizons of history. Too often in our suffering, the walls close in, and our vision narrows. God, we wonder: why do we feel so alone? So for all who suffer this day, be near to them. Be near to those who don’t have access to what they need to survive. Be near to those who wonder what fresh horror tomorrow will bring. Be near to those caught in the spoils of war, captive to the whims of the powerful, shackled by a past or a fear that governs their life. Be near to those waiting for a diagnosis, waiting for surgery results, waiting in an endless loop of grief. God, be near to the valleys of our driest bones with waters of life that never run dry.
God of the in-between, that walk from the glory of the mountaintop into the valley of human suffering is the way you call us to travel. You invite us to behold, to marvel at your mystery and remember that our everyday lives are lived within your presence. God, we wonder: why can’t we stay there? But you tell us to go instead where the people are hungry and hurting and scared and desperate for hope amidst the chaos of this world. That’s the work of the church, you tell us. That’s the work of Love at the heart of it all. So embolden us when our resolve weakens. Give voice to our convictions; hands and feet to our broken hearts. Turn us toward each other, even when our fear might drive us apart. Call us to be transfigured by you, ablaze with your light, directed by your Spirit. Meet us on top of mountains, and summon us to the valleys. Make plain the road between the agony and the ecstasy. Keep our way honest and clear.
Whether on the mountaintop or in the valley or on the path between, perhaps this is what our ancestors of the faith meant when they talked about the thin spaces, those fluid passageways where the distance between this world and the next shrinks to nothing. So God of the thin spaces, may your church be good stewards of them. May we live in such a way that your kingdom, your dream, your new day for this world can be found just beyond the veil.
We pray these things in the name of Jesus, the One you chose for the liberating of this world, who taught us how to pray, saying…