on palm sunday, the people cry out:
“hosanna! blessed is the one
who comes in the name of the LORD!”
the one who comes and
flips the tables of injustice
heals the hurting and calms the sea
proclaims woes to the rich and lifts up the poor
says “bear fruit worthy of repentance” and “follow me”
rides in on a donkey and prays earnestly
hosanna! hosanna in the highest!
create a spirit within us that desires what you desire, o God.
the humble walk, the healing kingdom, the new creation.
you are an arm
maybe a hand or finger
as important as a toe
or rib
but not God.
you have a place, a role, a duty
crafted from God’s own hands
you must
sense it, love it, keep it
and remember that it takes more
than a pinky to flourish.
God, we thank you for this food. Just as you formed us from the soil, so, too, has this sustenance sprung forth from the dirt. Let us never forget this. We pray for the regeneration of its home, the well-being of its tillers and transporters, and the lives of those who have prepared it. We thank you for this table, those gathered around it, and who they are in this world. Thank you for bringing us together in this place. Let us not take it for granted. Amen.
days are busy, impulse flooded, inertia-bound
trains on tracks that i cannot stop. it is
so hard to turn off, away, or toward you.
mold me, if the sunrise comes
into a creature who cherishes my creator,
believes in Her power, sings with the carrion,
and never forgets to look out of the train.
i pray if my body rests here tomorrow
it will have been a beacon of hope
and a vessel of your presence.
i do not pray for the earth
not the soil, the cliffs, or the sea
called to keep and till, we have
ravaged and plundered, forsaken and forgotten
it does not need my prayers
it needs a new me
i do not pray for the earth
i pray for my body, my God
for my senses to be renewed
for my eyes to see your creation
for my ears to hear the wood thrush
for my tongue to taste the berries
for my hands to climb trees
for my feet to feel the silt
for a body transformed by God’ grace
that feels myself as one amongst many
not one above all
created to sustain, not stomp
to sing, not blot
to live in harmony with the birds of the air and lilies in the field
o God
i pray for conviction
to stand when it is easier to sit
to march when it is easier to watch
to give when it is easier to withhold
to create when it is easier to consume
to think when it is easier to react
to love when it is easier to hate
grant me the bravery and courage of those who have gone before me
to stand, to march, to give, to create, to think, and to love
when it is easier to be comfortable
David Allen, Jr. 