Common Prayers for Palm Sunday

Right at the crest, where Mount Olives begins its descent, the whole crowd of disciples burst into enthusiastic praise over all the mighty works they had witnessed: Blessed is he who comes, the king in God's name! All's well in heaven! Glory in the high places! Some Pharisees from the crowd told him, "Teacher, get your disciples under control!" But he said, "If they kept quiet, the stones would do it for them, shouting praise." Luke 19:37-40

It is right to praise you, Almighty God, for the acts of love by

which you have redeemed us through your Son Jesus Christ

our Lord. On this day he entered the holy city of Jerusalem in

triumph, and was proclaimed as King of kings by those who

spread their garments and branches of palm along his way.

Let these branches be for us signs of his victory, and grant that

we who bear them in his name may ever hail him as our King,

and follow him in the way that leads to eternal life; who lives

and reigns in glory with you and the Holy Spirit, now and for 

ever. Amen.

Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but

first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he

was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way

of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and

peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Almighty and everliving God, in your tender love for the

human race you sent your Son our Savior Jesus Christ 

to take upon him our nature, and to suffer death upon 

the cross, giving us the example of his great humility: 

Mercifully grant that we may walk in the way of his 

suffering, and also share in his resurrection; through 

Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you 

and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Overflow of the Heart

As we approach Holy Week, I find myself reflective upon this season of Lent. Part of me wonders if I even tried at all to engage with Jesus as our local church has defined Lent. I at least set up a goal for myself, to study and practice the speech ethics of Jesus. To aid me in this I have been reading Eugene Peterson's book Tell it Slant, a study of Jesus' parables as he travels through Samaria on his way to Jerusalem and to the cross. In many ways, this season of Lent has mirrored that journey, as I've walked with Jesus through a foreign land. I wish that I had the same flare for the dramatic as Jesus, that I could interpret people's spiritual situations into well-crafted metaphors that people would be repeating two thousand years later, that I could set aside my agenda to be well-liked and to merely speak words that give life. Yet in my quest to see my tongue changed, I found God working on a very different part of me, my heart. Its often like this, I think, with God, we simply want to change our behaviors but He seems to care far more about who we are at our core. I found that to speak like Jesus did not mean learning smooth rhetoric but to be changed by his words.

And so as Jesus is preparing for his Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem he tells a story about the life he is bringing us into. He tells of a master who entrusts ten servants with some investments, talents. When the master returns a King, he surveys how his tenants spent their talents. One especially daring servant risked his in high-stakes investments and doubled the King's returns. Another held tightly to his, afraid of losing it and is scolded by the master who subsequently takes the servant's little and gives it to the daring one. In this story Jesus is illustrating what it means to live in and move in his coming Kingdom. We are to throw caution to the wind and risk all.  He has given us tools to use and what he most desires is for us to go to work, without fear and with great hope.

So often I find myself like the last servant, keeping my talents to myself out of fear. I am so often afraid of failure that I fail to act at all, a failure in and of itself. Yet I see Jesus telling me that anything worth anything is going to take risk. He knew this keenly as he rode that donkey into the death trap that was Jerusalem. He knew what was on the line and he risked it all, even his life for his dream, for our dreams. He died and in that act of bravery he freed us all to do likewise. This season of Lent has challenged my heart at the basic level: I am coward, yet Jesus looks deep into my eyes and sees far beneath and proclaims that my name is "Courageous" and "Victorious." He bids me, and perhaps us all, to follow in his steps of daring even if it costs me my life, for the reward is doubly, even infinitely, greater.

Covered in Manure

One of my favorite movies scenes occurs near the beginning of Les Miserables. The main character, Jean Valjean, a convict, steals from and attacks the bishop who offered his home to the wandering stranger. When the authorities catch Valjean and bring him back to the bishop, the bishop actually testifies that he gave Valjean everything and insists that he take the silver candlesticks as well. Valjean is undone in this totally unrequested act of forgiveness. In his confusion he looks at the bishop and asks why he is doing this. The bishop responds, "Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil. With this silver, I've bought your soul. I’ve ransomed you from fear and hatred. And now I give you back to God."

In this season of Lent, I have both failed miserably and yet also seen moderate success in my attempts to speak with a good tongue. So much of what I am learning is found not in specific commands but in the everyday language of Jesus as he travels to Jerusalem. Just as Jesus is preparing for the events of the Passion week, I too am preparing. Jesus has taught me the humility and community-creating power of asking questions and being silent, the commonality in which we are to approach our God in prayer, and the freedom found in not boasting. Most of this has been seen in his stories, his parables. These illustrious stories often cause deep reflection and even shock despite their simple garb. One such parable is found in Luke 13:6-9:

Then he told them a story: "A man had an apple tree planted in his front yard. He came to it expecting to find apples, but there weren't any.He said to his gardener, 'What's going on here? For three years now I've come to this tree expecting apples and not one apple have I found. Chop it down! Why waste good ground with it any longer?'"The gardener said, 'Let's give it another year. I'll dig around it and fertilize,and maybe it will produce next year; if it doesn't, then chop it down.'"

Here Jesus is teaching us to not do something. So much of what Jesus commands involves action and this appeals to us, it feeds our sense of control and power, but here Jesus is teaching us that patience and waiting should define our relationships with those who "waste good ground." A recent book has come out by a prominent pastor that before it even reached publication caused some to decry him a heretic and to bid him farewell from the community of God. Yet despite the validity of these claims, Jesus seems to warn against our swift judgments, even against judgments based on years of observance. We are to not be so swift to chop it down, chop him down, chop each other down. The gardener's response "let it be" is the same Greek word Jesus uses when he himself is chopped down and nailed to a cross, "forgive them." Too often in life we desire the role of judge, jury, and even executioner. We leave little room for God, let alone forgiveness. Perhaps we should heed the gardener's advise and give it a year, spread it with manure. It is hard work, undesirable work, but desperately needed work. In the process we cover each other in manure, in forgiveness. 

Interestingly enough, in both of these examples, the one being forgiven has done little if nothing at all to deserve it. The tree is barren and, if a tree could be such a thing, unrepentant. Jesus prays for us all as our horrible choices and voices were responsible for his death. It is our very ignorance of our error that gives the cause to Jesus' pronouncement of grace, "forgive them, for they know not what they do." 

Perhaps it is not the ones I encounter day-to-day that need forgiveness so much as it is me. I am precise in my judgments on another, quick to tell anyone who will listen of the wrongs I have been wrought. What if I had the audacity, the patience, the grace to keep my mouth shut or better yet, to pronounce forgiveness. What if I was just as quick to tell the listening ear of my forgiveness, not in a boasting way but in a sincere and vulnerable way.

"I forgive you."

And in the midst of these simple words perhaps lives will change. Forgiveness not only frees the offender from the burden of his debt but also the victim from the burden of his own debt, hatred and pain. Forgiveness brings healing in a way no drug could hope to duplicate. Jean Valjean leaves that Bishop's presence a new man, given to God. He changes the lives of those around him sacrificing much for not only the noble but prostitutes and their daughters and ultimately it is his unceasing capacity for grace that breaks the hardest heart of all. Jesus looks out from his bloody brow and whispers a prayer that will and has changed us all. The one who will himself wipe away all of our tears, cries himself not for his pain but for our's. He is ever patient with us and is quick to tell anyone who will listen: "I forgive you, now go and do likewise."

Sounds good to me.

Empty Together

I wanted to share what my dear friend  (and house-mate) Cliff had to share with our local congregation out here in Denver. I resonate with his feeling of emptiness and need for community.

I sat in front of my blank computer screen for about two hours searching myself for something of value to offer. My mind wandered about to other stresses taking place elsewhere in my life. The longer I sat, fewer ideas came to mind. What seemed to be such a simple task slowly became more and more daunting with each scattered thought. Why was it that I couldn’t find something to share with my community? Something encouraging. Something uplifting.  Something… spiritual.

I was spiritually dry. I am spiritually dry.

I remember hearing Eugene’s message on hoarding both the good and bad. That I can relate to. Sure there are things in my life taking up my time that aren’t good wholesome things, but most of what I give my time to are good things. They really are. Work, Church, my music, my friends, all quality time well spent. The simple fact is, rarely do I just sit with the Father. Rarely do I spend time sitting in the presence of God soaking him in for all he’s worth.

It was through community, through relationship that I was able to verbally process the stuff in my life and become aware of my spiritual drought. I believe it will only be through community and relationship that I heal. Growing up in the South, attending a Baptist church as all good Southerners do, I’ve never participated in Lent. This being my first Lenten season as a participant, I’m anxious to set out on this journey of rediscovering God. I wouldn’t dare begin this journey alone. Come with me?  

Thank God for friends like Cliff how do not remain silent in their struggles but through their honesty offer hope. I think many of us could sign our names to the bottom of this, filling our time with seemingly good things all the while leaving no room for the Good Thing. As I have taken a break from some of the filler this season, God has led me to a place of emptiness, a state of poverty. This is indeed a good thing; Eugen Peterson has this to say, ‎"Only when we stand emptied, stand impoverished before God can we receive what only empty hands can receive."

Abba, lead me and my brother Cliff into this abundant life in you. Lead us not only together but with all your children. Lord, make this world right, starting in my heart. Feed us, forgive us, and keep us safe. Grant us the guts to be empty and to be ok with it all. Be our God and help us to be your people. Amen 

Let My Words Be Few

As I continue to explore and practice a renewed speech ethic this Lenten season, I hope that scripture will guide my path (and my tongue). While I am learning about speech by studying how Jesus spoke, there are places where the scriptures speak directly about a framework that should support the use of our words.  Here is a sampling of these that merely refer to the tongue itself.

Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. Psalm 34:13


Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, O God of my salvation,and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness. Psalm 51:14


The tongue of the righteous is choice silver, Proverbs 10:20


There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts,but the tongue of the wise brings healing. Proverbs 12:18


Death and life are in the power of the tongue,and those who love it will eat its fruits. Proverbs 18:21


If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. James 1:21


Whoever desires to love life and see good days,let him keep his tongue from evil and his lips from speaking deceit; 1 Peter 3:10


Jesus came, among many reasons, to show us that our words were not the problem but our hearts that produce them. So, perhaps I am a bit misguided in my attempts to tame the tongue, for James says this is impossible. But we must also remember that nothing is impossible with God. Lent is a bit of a quandry when you think about it, we "do good" and "cease bad" so that we may be more like Christ? Is not the heart of the Gospel our utter lack of ability to save ourselves? Yet also in the heart of that same gospel is a plea to be changed. So perhaps the the greatest speech ethic I can learn this season is that of prayer.

My God, take this heart of stone and make it new. I am afraid of the chiseling you must do, but Lord do it please. Teach my heart to give worth to my words. Tame my tongue to not speak folly, lies, slander, and even death, but praise, joy, healing, and especially life. May Your Son, the Word of life give life to my words and defeat death in my heart. Thank you God that you have granted me, a man of unclean lips, the privalage to proclaim that you are holy, holy, holy. Amen

Help, I Need Somebody

I have been a little under the weather recently and have succumbed to the woe-is-me regiment of sleeping all day, taking drugs, and whining.  I, like most men, revert to a two-year old any time my temperature even flirts with triple digits.  More than anything, what I desire the most is for someone to take care of me.  Michala does an excellent job of this, rubbing my forehead, bringing me blankets, and always offering them with a smile. Sometimes I wonder if I have a secret longing to be sick just so she can fly to the rescue. Even though I feel as if I just got out of the ring with Mike Tyson, everything is OK. Perhaps I am not alone in this longing to be cared for, I can see this desire manifest itself in other places than merely my sickbed. When the responsibilities of being a grown-up pile up and I  feel as if I could be destroyed under the pressure of it all, I merely want someone to share my load, to hold me tight and tell me it will be alright. Maybe I am just weak or maybe just honest. Yet it is in the moments where I admit my desperate need for help that I fell the greatest peace, the most acute sense of hope, and a faith that I can make it.

I think that our DNA is wired in such a way that we operate best when we operate together. This game called life is a team sport. Yet we often live in a way that does not showcase this fact, in fact we often live in away that shouts "It is all about me!" We want to be the strongest, the bravest, the smartest and we want to do it alone. But as someone once said, "Its lonely at the top." What if we redefined our ideas of what it means to be fulfilled, successful, or even happy. What if intrinsic to all these was a sense of connectedness, that we need one another.  I think we would find ourselves more fulfilled, more successful, and even happier. But beyond this we may just find ourselves.

One of my favorite area of theology is how Orthodox Christianity portrays God, as the three-in-one. Instead of a simple monotheism, we instead have this difficult idea that God is one but also three. I will not risk the cramping of my brain in trying to articulate how all this works, but I will bask in the glory of a God beyond comprehension but also in a God so very accessible. In the beginning, God made everything and it was good, everything except for one thing.  Man was alone. I find this to be haunting that God looks around at all He has made is left scratching His head by this one thing. But in His head-scratching, He is teaching us. God made us in His image, in His image of togetherness, in His image of wholeness found only in community. God wrote His unique love in our hearts: we are only complete, only human when we have and love one another. We are most alive when we depend on each other. Jesus would later affirm this idea by stating that the sole purpose of our existence is to love God and man, in no particular order. His friend John would later write that in fact our love of God was so deeply rooted in how we loved one another that we could not claim one love without the other.

This season of Lent, we seek to grow closer to Christ, to share in his sufferings so that we may share in His victory. When we look at the cross, we see how deep Jesus believed in sharing with us the fullness of being alive. He so desperately wanted us to be alive that He died. With one of his final cries he felt the pain of our isolation, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" If we are to share in Christ's sufferings then we must be honest with our isolation; we must admit that we think more highly of ourselves than we ought, that we think we can do this on our own. In this admission, may we begin to share in his victory too. May we find a new life in the death of ourself, a life of togetherness, a life that not only finds peace in another's helping hand, but also finds the courage to give our hands back. May we be a people, plain and simple, truly a people, one although many. And perhaps we will find life there, a life unlike anything we have ever seen or known before.

Fat Tuesday 2011-Tell it Slant

As the festivities on Bourbon street come to a halt in the wee hours of the morning, the few faithful will file into their local church to receive an ash cross upon their forehead as they enter the season of Lent. Although my Fat Tuesday lacks any of the pageantry of Mardis Gras, I still have a sense of excitement for this season in my life. Last year Michala and I were encouraged and challenged as we experimented with this thing called Lent. This year, I have bought into the idea of my local church to view this season not as a time of denial but of embrace. Instead of denying some random thing like chocolate in hopes that this will somehow deepen my connection to Jesus, I have decided to simply feast upon Him. This season I will not try to put out little fires of things I should not do, but to focus instead on the fire of God.

One of the primary ways that I hope to embrace God this season will be through a reading of Jesus' words, specifically his parables and prayers. I have enlisted Eugene Peterson's Tell it Slant to help me soak in the language of God, to listen to how the Living Word spoke. So each Thursday during Lent, I will post some insights, reflections, struggles, prayers, or stories that have been influenced by this time of embracing. I hope to honor God's words with my own words. The power of life and death reside in the tongue and I hope to align my words in a pattern of life-giving. Peterson senses the power of our words, especially in telling the Truth but that in the pattern of Jesus we see a truth-telling that was often gracious and gradual, a truth telling that embodied the idea behind this Emily Dickinson poem:

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant---

Success in Circuit lies

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The Truth's superb surprise

As Lightening to the Children eased

With explanation kind

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind---

I look forward to this season of embrace and I hope to engage you as well.

Thanks for Nothing!

    Praise be to you, O LORD,

 God of our father Israel, 

       from everlasting to everlasting.

       Yours, O LORD, is the greatness and the power 

       and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, 

       for everything in heaven and earth is yours. 

      Yours, O LORD, is the kingdom; 

      you are exalted as head over all.

       Wealth and honor come from you; 

       you are the ruler of all things. 

       In your hands are strength and power 

       to exalt and give strength to all.

      Now, our God, we give you thanks, 

     and praise your glorious name.

    1 Chronicles 29: 10-1

As part of our celebration of Lent, Michala and I decided to resist feeling ungrateful by taking inventory of the wonderful things in our lives (see above photo for the preliminary results). We soon found ourselves overwhelmed at the blessings that surround us.  With the grind of everyday life, it is so easy to forget that the very air we breathe is blessed, a miracle of grace.  Each snowflake, baby giggle, banjo string, and cherry is a wondrous gift from above.  The desire to grow discontent tempts us everyday, defaming the mundane, blaspheming the holiness of a hug.  May we as a people immersed in Grace see the winks of our Creator and Friend in every corner.  May we bless Him for the abundance of goodness that passes through our lungs every second.  May we not look at our next meal, job, lesson, moment and say "thanks for nothing!"  But may we look into the depths of our hearts and know that despite everything, we are loved with a love we will never understand and shout with a large breath of grace, "Thanks God!"

Lent Day One: Vivid Virtue

Lent Day 1:  Michala and I spent some time thinking and praying about what this season would look like.  We both felt that instead of simply giving up some item that we would try to live differently, and hopefully sacrificially.  We would not only try to cease destructive patterns in our lives but also replace them with beautiful and holy practices.  


For so many of us, holiness may seem rather bland.  We may sum up holiness as "If it feels too good, tastes too good, or you do it too long, stop!"  This is an oppressive definition but one that many of us hold to.  However, this past summer, I was struck by something I read in a devotional (A Faith and Culture Devotional).  G.K. Chesterton wrote an essay called "Piece of Chalk," in which he describes a cherished childhood pastime of playing with chalk.  He details his preferences in brown paper and in color of chalk.  He loved most his collection of white chalk.  He writes, "One of the wise and awful truths which this brown-paper art reveals is this, that white is a color. It is not a mere absence of color; it is a shining and affirmative thing; as fierce as red, as definite as black."


I found this intriguing, for I like so many of us had never thought of white as a color, just a 'mere absence of color.'  Chesterton compares this misinterpretation to our understanding of virtue.  He writes, "The chief assertion of religious morality is that white is a color.  Virtue is not the absence of vices or the avoidance of moral dangers; virtue is a vivid and separate thing, like pain or a particular smell."


This realization hit home with me.  For long I would deal with my negative problems of pride and selfishness, instead of pursuing the positive virtues of humility and love.  While the distinction may seem small, it is huge in practice.  If we seek to rid ourselves of unhelpful, even evil practices we must replace them with helpful and virtuous ones.  Jesus put it this way: "When an evil spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, 'I will return to the house I left.' When it arrives, it finds the house unoccupied, swept clean and put in order. Then it goes and takes with it seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that man is worse than the first."  


In other words, we must not merely seek to abstain from evil but to adhere to the fruit of the Spirit: to love, to joy, to peace, to patience, to kindness, to goodness, to faithfulness, to gentleness and to self-control.


With this notion of holiness in mind, we sought to both fast and feast each week of Lent, to abstain from evil and to do good.  This week's theme is "live simply, so others may simply live."  We are trying to give up superfluous spending so that we may increase our sacrificial giving. 


I believe this direction holds much promise and we feel much more excited about Lent due to this refined understanding of holiness.  We believe that sacrificial living is just that: both sacrificial and also truly alive.


May God bless you this Lent season as you seek to be as alive as He!


PS: For funky-fun song about simple living click here to listen Keller Williams' "Keep It Simple," a favorite of mine.

Fat Tuesday

So, Michala and I have decided to continue to develop new traditions for our family.  This past December we ventured into the unfamiliar waters of Advent, only to find ourselves overwhelmed at the beauty of the season.  So as Ash Wednesday ushers in the season of Lent, we have decided to prepare our hearts and our family for Easter.

We're still very unfamiliar with all of this and although our current church doesn't really emphasize Lent, we are excited to experiment and see what the Lord does. We are both expectant and a bit nervous about all of this.  In the coming weeks, as we approach Easter, we will both be updating our blogs, reflecting upon what God is showing us in this new season.  We covet your input, prayers, and support.

I love this quote from Bob Hyatt about what the season of Lent means: "The reflection of Lent on our sin, our brokenness and all the ways we are tied to and contribute to the brokenness in the world should serve to increase our gratitude and wonder at the love of God."

If you are interested in what we are doing and would like to learn more about Lent (and some suggestions on how to participate) check out this prayer guide that I found via Michael Carpenter (check out his sweet blog here).

Thanks for reading and I hope you join us on this journey!

Michael, Michala, and Mary Grace.