Sunday, March 25, 2007
Meditation on the Passion
When you prayed in the garden, Lord,
and the heaviness pressed all around you
from the weight of all we had had done and would do
echoing in the quiet night,
and you knelt there while the full moon's light
peaked through the olive trees,
Silent witness alone that sees
how you were sweating blood in the depths of your grief.
How heavy did today weigh on your shoulders, Lord,
How this war-torn world of anger and tears
mad with lust, demands and fears
Despising you for what you said about right --
Choosing the darkness and calling it light,
Twisting your words, despising your peace,
hot with hatred and selfishness that never does cease -
Sometimes done for God, sometimes done for gain
Intense the cry, but an ancient refrain--
How careless we are of what you taught.
When they tied you to the pillar, Lord,
and scourged you in the Roman way, cutting like a knife,
a beating so severe that it alone could take a life,
as the weights at the ends of the whips gouged your skin
and the heavy slap of the leather tore you within,
did you see babies ripped from their mother's womb as inconvenient,
the innocents blown up to make a political statement,
the slaughtered millions killed by machete, bomb and gas
because they belonged to the wrong class,
just happened to be the wrong culture or faith or bloodline,
put down for gain or as a warning sign.
Which gave you the most pain the cruel leather across your back
or the way we would hate and strike and attack,
the knowlege how we would reject you?
When you walked that long walk to your death, Lord
with the heavy crossbeam tied across your shoulders
as the proud and hard Romans paraded you and the others
the soldiers hating the noise and the crowd and the foreignness of it all,
and took out their spite by tugging your bonds and watching you fall,
And as they lifeted you back to your feet you saw your Mother there,
and the aching pain passed between you, her grief and motherly care
did you see all the other mothers aching in their pain for their children, too -
The evil to their sons and daughters that others would do,
mothers who watch their children die for others' gain,
mothers weeping in the night in inconsolable pain,
mothers who would cry to you for help.
When they nailed you to the cross, Lord,
and hung you up to die the slow hard death reserved for theives and slaves
in pain and shame and suffocation, until exhaustion takes them to their graves
did our evil make the pain that much sharper to feel?
Did our lack of mercy and love, our evil zeal
echo down the centuries like a pressing weight of lead,
sin upon sin laying on your head
making your sacrifice all the more painful?
And yet, still you managed to love us, and gave us all you had left,
Hanging on the cross, beneath a darkened sky, naked and bereft -
your mother, your forgiveness, your heart's blood.
Dear Lord,
Have mercy on us.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, Jesus' Love, Passion of Christ
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
The Chain
What a dirge we send You, Lord, time and time again,
Injustice is the major tune, hurt and grief and pain,
Hearts burning with angry fire, while our tears fall like rain.
Teach us, Lord, how to forgive!
Blow by blow we forge it, each link of hate's own chain,
Created by our own hard hearts, black with anger's stain -
Each wrong done a brand new link, each new gift of pain.
Teach us, Lord, how to forgive!
Harder than steel it wraps our lives, this chain we forge of hate,
Bitter as sin, hotter than fire as it shifts through our lives to create
New wounds, new hurts that lead ever on to Hell's open, hungry gate.
Teach us, Lord, how to forgive!
You, O Lord, gave the one true key to unlock this evil chain,
Forgive, you said, and if needed more, forgive them once again.
"Forgive," you showed us by your own words said in your dying pain.
O Lord, give us hearts that will forgive!
Susan E. Stone
Injustice is the major tune, hurt and grief and pain,
Hearts burning with angry fire, while our tears fall like rain.
Teach us, Lord, how to forgive!
Blow by blow we forge it, each link of hate's own chain,
Created by our own hard hearts, black with anger's stain -
Each wrong done a brand new link, each new gift of pain.
Teach us, Lord, how to forgive!
Harder than steel it wraps our lives, this chain we forge of hate,
Bitter as sin, hotter than fire as it shifts through our lives to create
New wounds, new hurts that lead ever on to Hell's open, hungry gate.
Teach us, Lord, how to forgive!
You, O Lord, gave the one true key to unlock this evil chain,
Forgive, you said, and if needed more, forgive them once again.
"Forgive," you showed us by your own words said in your dying pain.
O Lord, give us hearts that will forgive!
Susan E. Stone
Labels: current evils, Forgiveness
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Shelter
I
When all the darkness of a world gone mad with "me" and "mine"
presses against your heart with its dark futility,
watch the world and see what happens
when self becomes the measure of the truth,
no one way better or worse than another,
with no standard to give it value.
Relativism – a place with no verities.
What type of world is it
when millions of selves become the arbiters of what is right,
of what is holy,
what is worth believing,
each competing,
the child molester no less worthy of admiration
than the hero who rescues the dying,
where killing the sick and old seeming as good a deed as healing,
and children seem a futility of expense.
Listen to that cacophony of competing voices
drowning out a truth they do not want to face,
the fact that without family,
there is an empty hole in life,
where self-loathing shadows over the death of hope,
the fact that chasing sex and intoxication
will never sustain,
that things break,
heroes fail,
that isms are imperfect answers for that hole in their lives,
and that no matter how they veil the reality,
their choices are leading them to a nightmare world,
where they try to make shifting desires the center of all,
turning the old granite of truth into quicksand,
unable to sustain a purposeless life.
Listen, and ask yourself,
have we not created the tower of Babel anew,
confusing our hearts, our spirits, our future
in our hubris to say Man, and not God is the center?
Where then, is the firm land
that will let you stand while the chaos grows,
as the center cannot hold,
and things fall apart?
The answer was given to you in the life of a single person
sent here with one purpose,
to bring you home.
Even now, he calls through the bitter waters of modern life,
and offers that transformation
that creates a sanctuary against the storm.
Look upon his cross,
his tomb,
his resurrection and know
one greater than any man
has touched the world,
leaving a cross-shaped beacon pointing the way
to the place where heaven and earth come crashing together,
an island of meaning against the midnight,
bought with blood,
sustained by love.
Laugh at him as old fashioned as you cry against the dark,
or listen to what he has to say,
and find the purpose you were missing.
II
Lord,
You offer so many graces to us,
your poor benighted children here on Earth,
graces that fall to the ground too often unwanted, ignored, unseen.
How often we turn to run to the dark when you offer us
that purifying light that will heal the aching in our hearts
as if it were some bitter tonic
instead of the Living Water,
perfect tonic for all that ails us.
Forgive us, Lord,
for the ingratitude of our wayward hearts,
for the cold determination to do what we want,
no matter what the cost.
Soften our hearts, O Lord, and open our eyes,
scaled over by sin and and willfullness and lack of trust,
until we see you standing there,
waiting patiently with outstretched hands,
ready to transform us step by step,
grace by grace
until you have made us into the child of light
you would have us be.
III
You gave me a dream one day, O Lord,
of midnight on a storming sea,
Hurricane winds blowing free,
washing up on an unprepared shore.
I watched as the waters swirled and rose,
huge swells washing all away
there in the darkness far from day,
The works of hands shattered in the water flows.
I watched how puny are the works we prize
The works of hands and sweat and dreams
Falling there beneath the streams
Nothing of man stopped the water's rise.
And yet, there on the water's face
Bobbing lightly as the waves moved on,
Survivors surfacing towards the dawn
Rafts and boats and planks and boards in place.
Even though wind tossed, and frightened there
even though battered in the night
they escaped into the light,
By the hand of loving care.
"My mercy," said the Lord to me
"I gave them refuge in my heart,
As the darkness took their world apart
Because they put their trust in me.
.
"Take care to understand and know
When darkness seems too dark to see
That I will hold you close to me
In darkest night, when storm winds blow
"If you will give your heart to me
To keep within my heart of love
You will always float above
The darkness of that midnight sea.
"Cling to my mercy now, this day,
The storm clouds gather, the darkness grows,
The seas are rising, the dark wind blows,
Come into my heart or wash away."
When all the darkness of a world gone mad with "me" and "mine"
presses against your heart with its dark futility,
watch the world and see what happens
when self becomes the measure of the truth,
no one way better or worse than another,
with no standard to give it value.
Relativism – a place with no verities.
What type of world is it
when millions of selves become the arbiters of what is right,
of what is holy,
what is worth believing,
each competing,
the child molester no less worthy of admiration
than the hero who rescues the dying,
where killing the sick and old seeming as good a deed as healing,
and children seem a futility of expense.
Listen to that cacophony of competing voices
drowning out a truth they do not want to face,
the fact that without family,
there is an empty hole in life,
where self-loathing shadows over the death of hope,
the fact that chasing sex and intoxication
will never sustain,
that things break,
heroes fail,
that isms are imperfect answers for that hole in their lives,
and that no matter how they veil the reality,
their choices are leading them to a nightmare world,
where they try to make shifting desires the center of all,
turning the old granite of truth into quicksand,
unable to sustain a purposeless life.
Listen, and ask yourself,
have we not created the tower of Babel anew,
confusing our hearts, our spirits, our future
in our hubris to say Man, and not God is the center?
Where then, is the firm land
that will let you stand while the chaos grows,
as the center cannot hold,
and things fall apart?
The answer was given to you in the life of a single person
sent here with one purpose,
to bring you home.
Even now, he calls through the bitter waters of modern life,
and offers that transformation
that creates a sanctuary against the storm.
Look upon his cross,
his tomb,
his resurrection and know
one greater than any man
has touched the world,
leaving a cross-shaped beacon pointing the way
to the place where heaven and earth come crashing together,
an island of meaning against the midnight,
bought with blood,
sustained by love.
Laugh at him as old fashioned as you cry against the dark,
or listen to what he has to say,
and find the purpose you were missing.
II
Lord,
You offer so many graces to us,
your poor benighted children here on Earth,
graces that fall to the ground too often unwanted, ignored, unseen.
How often we turn to run to the dark when you offer us
that purifying light that will heal the aching in our hearts
as if it were some bitter tonic
instead of the Living Water,
perfect tonic for all that ails us.
Forgive us, Lord,
for the ingratitude of our wayward hearts,
for the cold determination to do what we want,
no matter what the cost.
Soften our hearts, O Lord, and open our eyes,
scaled over by sin and and willfullness and lack of trust,
until we see you standing there,
waiting patiently with outstretched hands,
ready to transform us step by step,
grace by grace
until you have made us into the child of light
you would have us be.
III
You gave me a dream one day, O Lord,
of midnight on a storming sea,
Hurricane winds blowing free,
washing up on an unprepared shore.
I watched as the waters swirled and rose,
huge swells washing all away
there in the darkness far from day,
The works of hands shattered in the water flows.
I watched how puny are the works we prize
The works of hands and sweat and dreams
Falling there beneath the streams
Nothing of man stopped the water's rise.
And yet, there on the water's face
Bobbing lightly as the waves moved on,
Survivors surfacing towards the dawn
Rafts and boats and planks and boards in place.
Even though wind tossed, and frightened there
even though battered in the night
they escaped into the light,
By the hand of loving care.
"My mercy," said the Lord to me
"I gave them refuge in my heart,
As the darkness took their world apart
Because they put their trust in me.
.
"Take care to understand and know
When darkness seems too dark to see
That I will hold you close to me
In darkest night, when storm winds blow
"If you will give your heart to me
To keep within my heart of love
You will always float above
The darkness of that midnight sea.
"Cling to my mercy now, this day,
The storm clouds gather, the darkness grows,
The seas are rising, the dark wind blows,
Come into my heart or wash away."
Labels: current evils, Jesus' Love, Man's Sinfulness
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Midnight (a song)
The midnight seems so dark, and dawn so far away.
The sounds of war are loud, with no safe place to stay,
Except in Your heart, Lord, the one safe place I know -
O keep me close to You, Lord, O do not let me go.
The midnight seems so dark, voices cry out in the night
exploding into to anger - I hear the bloody fight.
No peace without love, no peace outside Your heart -
O keep me close to you, Lord, O do not let us part.
The midnight seems so dark, with a blood smell in the air,
the bitter iron of hatred, lust and sorrow there.
Like war drums the sound of feet marching in the night.
O keep me close to you, Lord, O bring me to your light!
The midnight seems so dark - You know those shadows too.
In grief you prayed alone as our sins laid hard on You.
You felt the whip's hard biting, you took their cross of thorn -
To keep me close to you, Lord, you accepted all their scorn.
The midnight seems so dark, but You gave the way to life.
Your cross the midnight beacon that cuts dark like a knife.
You gave us your all to bring us through the night
To keep us close to you, Lord, safe in Your loving sight.
(to the tune of Noel Novelet (Midi tune: http://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/Hymns_and_Carols/MIDI/noel_nouvelet.mid)
Susan E. Stone, 2007
The sounds of war are loud, with no safe place to stay,
Except in Your heart, Lord, the one safe place I know -
O keep me close to You, Lord, O do not let me go.
The midnight seems so dark, voices cry out in the night
exploding into to anger - I hear the bloody fight.
No peace without love, no peace outside Your heart -
O keep me close to you, Lord, O do not let us part.
The midnight seems so dark, with a blood smell in the air,
the bitter iron of hatred, lust and sorrow there.
Like war drums the sound of feet marching in the night.
O keep me close to you, Lord, O bring me to your light!
The midnight seems so dark - You know those shadows too.
In grief you prayed alone as our sins laid hard on You.
You felt the whip's hard biting, you took their cross of thorn -
To keep me close to you, Lord, you accepted all their scorn.
The midnight seems so dark, but You gave the way to life.
Your cross the midnight beacon that cuts dark like a knife.
You gave us your all to bring us through the night
To keep us close to you, Lord, safe in Your loving sight.
(to the tune of Noel Novelet (Midi tune: http://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/Hymns_and_Carols/MIDI/noel_nouvelet.mid)
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, Need for God, Song
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Meditation on Psalm 85:7-8
Show us thy steadfast love, O LORD, and grant us thy salvation. Let me hear what God the LORD will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his saints, to those who turn to him in their hearts. Psalm 85:7-8 RSV
Let me hear what You will speak, O my Lord,
As I watch the smoke of war drift over the land,
As I watch the fire of wrath burn over the land,
Angry red in the midnight, the color of hate,
Speak to me, Lord, tell me it is not too late
For all those poor souls tripped up in the word --
the word that brings death.
Touch us today with your breath.
O Spirit of Holiness that brings life into dust.
So many hopes now the color of rust,
The color of dried blood on an old wooden cross
That offered life out of death, hope out of loss,
A love so intense it could burn away night,
Opening a path through hate's smoke, a straight line of sight
Into a steadfast tomorrow unmarred by Cain's blood,
Or Eve's choice -- rejected, unsought, splattered with mud,
Like You were the day You died.
How Your mother cried.
Touch us, O God, today with your breath,
As we near ever closer the valley of death
That one final night.
Bent with hell's unending anger at the world that you gave,
At the blood that you gave.
Hosanna, O save!
Help us share Your true light.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Let me hear what You will speak, O my Lord,
As I watch the smoke of war drift over the land,
As I watch the fire of wrath burn over the land,
Angry red in the midnight, the color of hate,
Speak to me, Lord, tell me it is not too late
For all those poor souls tripped up in the word --
the word that brings death.
Touch us today with your breath.
O Spirit of Holiness that brings life into dust.
So many hopes now the color of rust,
The color of dried blood on an old wooden cross
That offered life out of death, hope out of loss,
A love so intense it could burn away night,
Opening a path through hate's smoke, a straight line of sight
Into a steadfast tomorrow unmarred by Cain's blood,
Or Eve's choice -- rejected, unsought, splattered with mud,
Like You were the day You died.
How Your mother cried.
Touch us, O God, today with your breath,
As we near ever closer the valley of death
That one final night.
Bent with hell's unending anger at the world that you gave,
At the blood that you gave.
Hosanna, O save!
Help us share Your true light.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, Need for God, scripture
Monday, February 19, 2007
Rubble
Amid the rubble,
bomb shards of a broken life,
wreckage of a hate gone mad,
fire of a rejecting world,
still You walk, Lord,
seeking the lost,
comforting the injured,
helping the afflicted,
looking over the twisted hate
that uses you,
that rejects you,
makes you the scapegoat of so many things.
At a casual glance,
not much has changed since you walked the earth,
Cain still chooses to kill his brother,
Eve still reaches for the forbidden,
we build new towers of Babel daily.
And yet, the sparks you planted build into flickering flames,
lighting up the darkness.
Help us be those lights, Lord,
the lamps of Heaven's light piercing the darkness of sin,
the oil of peace in the land of hate,
the hand that pushes aside the rubble,
reaches out,
lifts up our brother, shaken to his core,
and helps him into the day.
We are but dust without your spirit.
Breathe in us, that we might live,
and living,
bring that life to others,
this day, and always,
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
bomb shards of a broken life,
wreckage of a hate gone mad,
fire of a rejecting world,
still You walk, Lord,
seeking the lost,
comforting the injured,
helping the afflicted,
looking over the twisted hate
that uses you,
that rejects you,
makes you the scapegoat of so many things.
At a casual glance,
not much has changed since you walked the earth,
Cain still chooses to kill his brother,
Eve still reaches for the forbidden,
we build new towers of Babel daily.
And yet, the sparks you planted build into flickering flames,
lighting up the darkness.
Help us be those lights, Lord,
the lamps of Heaven's light piercing the darkness of sin,
the oil of peace in the land of hate,
the hand that pushes aside the rubble,
reaches out,
lifts up our brother, shaken to his core,
and helps him into the day.
We are but dust without your spirit.
Breathe in us, that we might live,
and living,
bring that life to others,
this day, and always,
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, Discipleship
Sunday, January 28, 2007
On My Knees
There are times and moments, Lord, like now,
Where the words rush by me, escaping somehow.
What is there for me to say,
When I see the darkness day by day.
On my knees I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
Word by word, and life by life,
The world gone mad with hate and strife,
Those who should be there to show us the way
Have secret sins that they must obey.
On my knees I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
The hardness of heart across the world
like a sword it slashes, like a spear, it's hurled
To pit the one against another,
Over and over Cain slays his brother.
On my knees, I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
Lord, help us stand against this night,
And touch our hearts with Thy pure light.
Help us walk in mercy's way,
Shine with your love, day by day.
On my knees, I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
Teach our hearts, then how to be
Loving followers of Thee,
Knowing how to shed your light,
In this land of sin and night.
On my knees I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
Remind us of Thy mercy-seat,
A cross where Heaven and earth do meet,
You bled and died to open the door,
A flame of Love forever more.
On my knees I pray to Thee:
Thank You, Lord, for Your mercy.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Where the words rush by me, escaping somehow.
What is there for me to say,
When I see the darkness day by day.
On my knees I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
Word by word, and life by life,
The world gone mad with hate and strife,
Those who should be there to show us the way
Have secret sins that they must obey.
On my knees I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
The hardness of heart across the world
like a sword it slashes, like a spear, it's hurled
To pit the one against another,
Over and over Cain slays his brother.
On my knees, I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
Lord, help us stand against this night,
And touch our hearts with Thy pure light.
Help us walk in mercy's way,
Shine with your love, day by day.
On my knees, I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
Teach our hearts, then how to be
Loving followers of Thee,
Knowing how to shed your light,
In this land of sin and night.
On my knees I pray to Thee:
O my Lord, have mercy.
Remind us of Thy mercy-seat,
A cross where Heaven and earth do meet,
You bled and died to open the door,
A flame of Love forever more.
On my knees I pray to Thee:
Thank You, Lord, for Your mercy.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, Discipleship, Mercy on Mankind
Thursday, January 25, 2007
I Pray in a Voice Sad and Plain
How loud the pain and sorrow rises,
A sad crescendo reaching high,
Up to heaven, that growing cry,
Ratcheting up with each new crisis,
Against the screaming hurricane,
I pray in a voice, sad and plain:
Have mercy on us, O Lord!
Today, O Lord, if you hear my voice
against the screech of "Why o Why?"
"I hate you!", "Why don't you just die?"
And vengeance cries that now rejoice,
I pray in a voice, sad and plain
Against this endless wall of pain:
Have mercy on us, O Lord!
The voice of the orphan as he cries,
The parent who's lost his only child,
Those in war zones, hot and wild,
The unwanted, breathing their unseen sighs,
I pray in a voice, sad and plain,
That longs to heal and make things sane -
Have mercy on us, O Lord!
The darkness seems so dark today,
With anger and hate and willful pride
Death means nothing on this dark ride,
The truth forgotten, love turns to clay.
Open our parched hearts, let in the rain!
I pray in a voice, sad and plain.
Have mercy on us, Lord.
Open my hearts to your love's way
That sees with love the hurting one,
That sees the work that needs to be done,
That turns man's dark into Heaven's day.
I pray in a voice sad and plain,
Use me to stop the hurricane,
Teach me to love, O Lord.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
A sad crescendo reaching high,
Up to heaven, that growing cry,
Ratcheting up with each new crisis,
Against the screaming hurricane,
I pray in a voice, sad and plain:
Have mercy on us, O Lord!
Today, O Lord, if you hear my voice
against the screech of "Why o Why?"
"I hate you!", "Why don't you just die?"
And vengeance cries that now rejoice,
I pray in a voice, sad and plain
Against this endless wall of pain:
Have mercy on us, O Lord!
The voice of the orphan as he cries,
The parent who's lost his only child,
Those in war zones, hot and wild,
The unwanted, breathing their unseen sighs,
I pray in a voice, sad and plain,
That longs to heal and make things sane -
Have mercy on us, O Lord!
The darkness seems so dark today,
With anger and hate and willful pride
Death means nothing on this dark ride,
The truth forgotten, love turns to clay.
Open our parched hearts, let in the rain!
I pray in a voice, sad and plain.
Have mercy on us, Lord.
Open my hearts to your love's way
That sees with love the hurting one,
That sees the work that needs to be done,
That turns man's dark into Heaven's day.
I pray in a voice sad and plain,
Use me to stop the hurricane,
Teach me to love, O Lord.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, man's inhumanity, Mercy on Mankind
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
In the darkness of the moment, I turn to you, O Lord,
You who are the light in which there is no darkness.
Help me to see my way among the rocks and the holes,
The rubble of this sin-filled land in its starkness,
All the places where I might trip and fall
And be swallowed up by the night.
How the sound of sin's dark consequences
pierce through the midnight of this poor world,
The hatred masquerading as good intentions,
in smoke and fire and death and grief unfurl,
in little ways, too, with heart rending words
designed to cut and blight.
O Lord, remember us, how you gave your blood in love
to open up the door to heaven's healing touch,
And looked upon all our hurts and pains with loving eyes,
Shepherdless this people, needing much --
And as the darkness thickens, Lord,
Restore to us our sight!
Steadfast love we have not, save what comes from You,
Who sends your grace to fall upon this hard place
In spite of who we are and what we've done since day began.
In spite of sin and coldness, O Lord, turn not your face,
But remember how you wept in the garden
That one spring moonlit midnight.
O Lord, have pity on the ones I cannot reach but know
How frightened, lost and hungry are their days,
O Lord, the children lost, their parents dying, the wars go on
Satan's laughter piercing through the blood red haze --
Remember Lord, the cross that awful day,
Help us by your might!
Kyrie eleison,
Christe eleison,
Kyrie eleison.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
You who are the light in which there is no darkness.
Help me to see my way among the rocks and the holes,
The rubble of this sin-filled land in its starkness,
All the places where I might trip and fall
And be swallowed up by the night.
How the sound of sin's dark consequences
pierce through the midnight of this poor world,
The hatred masquerading as good intentions,
in smoke and fire and death and grief unfurl,
in little ways, too, with heart rending words
designed to cut and blight.
O Lord, remember us, how you gave your blood in love
to open up the door to heaven's healing touch,
And looked upon all our hurts and pains with loving eyes,
Shepherdless this people, needing much --
And as the darkness thickens, Lord,
Restore to us our sight!
Steadfast love we have not, save what comes from You,
Who sends your grace to fall upon this hard place
In spite of who we are and what we've done since day began.
In spite of sin and coldness, O Lord, turn not your face,
But remember how you wept in the garden
That one spring moonlit midnight.
O Lord, have pity on the ones I cannot reach but know
How frightened, lost and hungry are their days,
O Lord, the children lost, their parents dying, the wars go on
Satan's laughter piercing through the blood red haze --
Remember Lord, the cross that awful day,
Help us by your might!
Kyrie eleison,
Christe eleison,
Kyrie eleison.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, man's inhumanity, Mercy on Mankind, Need for God
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Pax, Pax Vobiscum
Meditation on Malachi 6:8
Nations now rage across the world,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Sword in hand, flags unfurled,
Et cum spiritu tuo.
They stand for good, they stand for greed,
pax, pax vobiscum,
They rage over words, they kill over creed
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Voices weeping in the night,
pax, pax vobiscum,
breed new hates by morning's light.
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Daughters slain for father's pride
pax, pax vobiscum,
Mothers kill their child inside,
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Orphans are removed from sight,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Disappearing in the night.
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Dogs fed better than homeless man,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Ragpickers living where they can,
Et cum spiritu tuo.
God turned into sign of war,
pax, pax vobiscum,
A bloody mark upon the door,
Et cum spiritu tuo.
O who will break these chains of night,
pax, pax vobiscum,
And lead the weeping into light?
et cum spiritu tuo.
God has told you what to do
pax, pax vobiscum,
To live with Him and brothers, too,
et cum spiritu tuo.
Walk humbly with Him, hand in hand,
pax, pax vobiscum,
To find that peace across the land,
et cum spiritu tuo.
Know all you see are God's children,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Treat all like they belong to him,
et cum spiritu tuo.
Walk in the paths of justice right,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Love mercy like it's Heaven's light
et cum spiritu tuo.
Act lovingly to rich and poor,
pax, pax vobiscum,
And God will open wide his door.
et cum spiritu tuo.
The peace that comes from Heaven's touch
pax, pax vobiscum,
requires your all, returns so much,
et cum spiritu tuo.
This peace is passed from hand to hand,
pax, pax vobiscum,
across a dark and savage land
et cum spiritu tuo.
Nations may rage, but there within
pax, pax vobiscum,
You'll find God's peace where he's let in
et cum spiritu tuo.
Man may maim and man may kill,
pax, pax vobiscum,
The light of God will reach out still.
et cum spiritu tuo.
(pax, pax vobiscum = peace, peace be with you
et cum spiritu tuo = and with your spirit)
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Nations now rage across the world,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Sword in hand, flags unfurled,
Et cum spiritu tuo.
They stand for good, they stand for greed,
pax, pax vobiscum,
They rage over words, they kill over creed
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Voices weeping in the night,
pax, pax vobiscum,
breed new hates by morning's light.
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Daughters slain for father's pride
pax, pax vobiscum,
Mothers kill their child inside,
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Orphans are removed from sight,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Disappearing in the night.
Et cum spiritu tuo.
Dogs fed better than homeless man,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Ragpickers living where they can,
Et cum spiritu tuo.
God turned into sign of war,
pax, pax vobiscum,
A bloody mark upon the door,
Et cum spiritu tuo.
O who will break these chains of night,
pax, pax vobiscum,
And lead the weeping into light?
et cum spiritu tuo.
God has told you what to do
pax, pax vobiscum,
To live with Him and brothers, too,
et cum spiritu tuo.
Walk humbly with Him, hand in hand,
pax, pax vobiscum,
To find that peace across the land,
et cum spiritu tuo.
Know all you see are God's children,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Treat all like they belong to him,
et cum spiritu tuo.
Walk in the paths of justice right,
pax, pax vobiscum,
Love mercy like it's Heaven's light
et cum spiritu tuo.
Act lovingly to rich and poor,
pax, pax vobiscum,
And God will open wide his door.
et cum spiritu tuo.
The peace that comes from Heaven's touch
pax, pax vobiscum,
requires your all, returns so much,
et cum spiritu tuo.
This peace is passed from hand to hand,
pax, pax vobiscum,
across a dark and savage land
et cum spiritu tuo.
Nations may rage, but there within
pax, pax vobiscum,
You'll find God's peace where he's let in
et cum spiritu tuo.
Man may maim and man may kill,
pax, pax vobiscum,
The light of God will reach out still.
et cum spiritu tuo.
(pax, pax vobiscum = peace, peace be with you
et cum spiritu tuo = and with your spirit)
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, Jesus' Love, man's inhumanity, Need for God, scripture
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Let Me Stand Beneath Your Cross
Between the midnight of those who reach out in hate
Shedding blood on the streets in God's holy name,
And those who see religion as the source of pain and disgrace
And see life on this Earth as just a meaningless game,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
And know that Your ways and theirs just are not the same.
Between the easy answer of it's all about me,
And the anger that lets frightened souls die
As offerings to hate that say "I'm stronger than you,"
As others choose nothingness as an end to the cry,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
And see in Your light the blackness of Satan's dark lie.
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
that place touched in such an unusual way,
God walking as man beneath the Sun He made,
Where You stand to welcome us, to heal our hearts of clay,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
When all else is darkness, You are my day.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Shedding blood on the streets in God's holy name,
And those who see religion as the source of pain and disgrace
And see life on this Earth as just a meaningless game,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
And know that Your ways and theirs just are not the same.
Between the easy answer of it's all about me,
And the anger that lets frightened souls die
As offerings to hate that say "I'm stronger than you,"
As others choose nothingness as an end to the cry,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
And see in Your light the blackness of Satan's dark lie.
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
that place touched in such an unusual way,
God walking as man beneath the Sun He made,
Where You stand to welcome us, to heal our hearts of clay,
Let me stand here beneath Your cross, Lord,
When all else is darkness, You are my day.
Susan E. Stone, 2007
Labels: current evils, Discipleship, Jesus' Love
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Lord, Forgive Us
Lord,
forgive us,
a wayward and sin-stained mankind,
for the sin of letting angry people
rise among us,
setting them free
to kill the innocent
for love or lust,
for greed,
for self-righteousness,
for power,
for the sake of politcal stance,
for honor,
out of impatience and frustration,
expedience,
sometimes, even, in your name.
O Lord,
how the blood of Abel calls out,
joined by so many others,
such a loud cacaphony of human darkness.
Today, O Lord,
I offer up my remorse to you,
my tears,
for each life snuffed short,
each family twisted,
each mournful keening
echoing through the millenia,
the sackcloth and ashes of my lone heart
in repentance and sorrow at what we have wrought.
O Lord,
on this dark day,
I pray for your voice to touch each and every heart,
and show us what we do in truth,
help us to recoil from the blacknes we have wrought,
until we repudiate the darkness
and choose your light.
Susan E. Stone
forgive us,
a wayward and sin-stained mankind,
for the sin of letting angry people
rise among us,
setting them free
to kill the innocent
for love or lust,
for greed,
for self-righteousness,
for power,
for the sake of politcal stance,
for honor,
out of impatience and frustration,
expedience,
sometimes, even, in your name.
O Lord,
how the blood of Abel calls out,
joined by so many others,
such a loud cacaphony of human darkness.
Today, O Lord,
I offer up my remorse to you,
my tears,
for each life snuffed short,
each family twisted,
each mournful keening
echoing through the millenia,
the sackcloth and ashes of my lone heart
in repentance and sorrow at what we have wrought.
O Lord,
on this dark day,
I pray for your voice to touch each and every heart,
and show us what we do in truth,
help us to recoil from the blacknes we have wrought,
until we repudiate the darkness
and choose your light.
Susan E. Stone
Labels: current evils, Need for God, Penitence
Friday, June 09, 2006
The Haven
When all the darkness of a world gone mad with "me" and "mine"
presses against your heart with its dark futility,
watch the world and see what happens
when self becomes the measure of the truth,
no one way better or worse than another,
with no standard to give it value.
Relativism – a place with no verities.
What type of world is it
when millions of selves become the arbiters of what is right,
of what is holy,
what is worth believing,
each competing,
the child molester no less worthy of admiration
than the hero who rescues the dying,
where killing the sick and old seeming as good a deed as healing,
and children seem a futility of expense.
Listen to that cacophony of competing voices
drowning out a truth they do not want to face,
the fact that without family,
there is an empty hole in life,
where self-loathing shadows over the death of hope,
the fact that chasing sex and intoxication
will never sustain,
that things break,
heros fail,
that isms are imperfect answers for that hole in their lives,
and that no matter how they veil the reality,
their choices are leading them to a nightmare world,
where they try to make shifting desires the center of all,
turning the old granite of truth into quicksand,
unable to sustain a purposeless life.
Listen, and ask yourself,
have we not created the tower of Babel anew,
confusing our hearts, our spirits, our future
in our hubris to say Man, and not God is the center?
Where then, is the firm land
that will let you stand while the chaos grows,
as the center cannot hold,
and things fall apart?
The answer was given to you in the life of a single person
sent here with one purpose,
to bring you home.
Even now, he calls through the bitter waters of modern life,
and offers that transformation
that creates a sanctuary against the storm.
Look upon his cross,
his tomb,
his resurrection and know
one greater than any man
has touched the world,
leaving a cross-shaped beacon pointing the way
to the place where heaven and earth come crashing together,
an island of meaning against the midnight,
bought with blood,
sustained by love.
Laugh at him as old fashioned as you cry against the dark,
or listen to what he has to say,
and find the purpose you were missing.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
presses against your heart with its dark futility,
watch the world and see what happens
when self becomes the measure of the truth,
no one way better or worse than another,
with no standard to give it value.
Relativism – a place with no verities.
What type of world is it
when millions of selves become the arbiters of what is right,
of what is holy,
what is worth believing,
each competing,
the child molester no less worthy of admiration
than the hero who rescues the dying,
where killing the sick and old seeming as good a deed as healing,
and children seem a futility of expense.
Listen to that cacophony of competing voices
drowning out a truth they do not want to face,
the fact that without family,
there is an empty hole in life,
where self-loathing shadows over the death of hope,
the fact that chasing sex and intoxication
will never sustain,
that things break,
heros fail,
that isms are imperfect answers for that hole in their lives,
and that no matter how they veil the reality,
their choices are leading them to a nightmare world,
where they try to make shifting desires the center of all,
turning the old granite of truth into quicksand,
unable to sustain a purposeless life.
Listen, and ask yourself,
have we not created the tower of Babel anew,
confusing our hearts, our spirits, our future
in our hubris to say Man, and not God is the center?
Where then, is the firm land
that will let you stand while the chaos grows,
as the center cannot hold,
and things fall apart?
The answer was given to you in the life of a single person
sent here with one purpose,
to bring you home.
Even now, he calls through the bitter waters of modern life,
and offers that transformation
that creates a sanctuary against the storm.
Look upon his cross,
his tomb,
his resurrection and know
one greater than any man
has touched the world,
leaving a cross-shaped beacon pointing the way
to the place where heaven and earth come crashing together,
an island of meaning against the midnight,
bought with blood,
sustained by love.
Laugh at him as old fashioned as you cry against the dark,
or listen to what he has to say,
and find the purpose you were missing.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: current evils, Jesus' Love, man's inhumanity
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Choose
Wrapped in white,
he stands alone,
in that place a memorial of the fruits of evil
Yet marked this day by the promise of God.
He stands in prayer,
acknowledging the darkness
with all its burning hurt,
yet proclaiming the light.
Look you, who think only in grays:
the fight is on,
in all seriousness.
Choose your side --
barbed wire or the rainbow.
Labels: current evils, Need for God, Pope Benedict XVI
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Blood and Light
The sword falls,
exposing a thin red line separating life and death,
today and forever,
goodness in a neighbor's eyes and the face of evil in human form.
See it cut,
that first blow,
brother against brother,
opening a red stream pouring out over the earth,
a river of grief and loss,
and sorrow and confusion,
exhilaration,
adulation,
oppression,
the mark of Cain ever with the human race,
as men see themselves
as more worthy,
more deserving,
more needy,
more right,
wallowing in the river
no matter the price
as demons howl.
The whip rips the flesh,
the thorn pierces he scalp,
the hammer rends as nail pierces muscle and nerve.
This blood trickles down like all the other blood,
yet where it touches,
light grows to combat the dark,
light to heal the anger in the neighbor's eyes,
to heal the hurt of the lost and bereaved,
to stand with the homeless,
the oppressed,
the needy.
All you who are touched by this light
offer up your hands,
hands for the light to use.
Pass it on,
this light given to us in blood,
in love,
in redemption.
Pass it on,
hand to hand,
word by word,
to heal the mark of Cain,
the death march of time,
and quell that demon howling,
the song of grief that has been mankind's birthright
since the fall.
Pass it on,
and one day, you will see it come back to you,
in the loving smile and shining eyes
of him who says, "Well done."
Susan E. Stone, 2006
exposing a thin red line separating life and death,
today and forever,
goodness in a neighbor's eyes and the face of evil in human form.
See it cut,
that first blow,
brother against brother,
opening a red stream pouring out over the earth,
a river of grief and loss,
and sorrow and confusion,
exhilaration,
adulation,
oppression,
the mark of Cain ever with the human race,
as men see themselves
as more worthy,
more deserving,
more needy,
more right,
wallowing in the river
no matter the price
as demons howl.
The whip rips the flesh,
the thorn pierces he scalp,
the hammer rends as nail pierces muscle and nerve.
This blood trickles down like all the other blood,
yet where it touches,
light grows to combat the dark,
light to heal the anger in the neighbor's eyes,
to heal the hurt of the lost and bereaved,
to stand with the homeless,
the oppressed,
the needy.
All you who are touched by this light
offer up your hands,
hands for the light to use.
Pass it on,
this light given to us in blood,
in love,
in redemption.
Pass it on,
hand to hand,
word by word,
to heal the mark of Cain,
the death march of time,
and quell that demon howling,
the song of grief that has been mankind's birthright
since the fall.
Pass it on,
and one day, you will see it come back to you,
in the loving smile and shining eyes
of him who says, "Well done."
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: Christian Living, current evils, Discipleship
Monday, February 27, 2006
In Innocence They Wait
In innocence, they wait,
Snuggled deep in the warm comfortable darkness
Of the one who should love them like no other human,
Conceived in a moment of unthinking passion,
Unplanned for, undesired,
Two hundred and fifty lives out of the thousand,
Children who could shape the future,
Heros who could save the day,
Lives that would make a difference
Snuffed out,
Extinguished,
Their beginning an end.
In innocence, they wait,
Not realizing what they are in the eyes of others -
A crisis for the man who would not be a father,
A problem to be solved for one who has no time to mother
A sudden panic in the life of a child too young for the games she has been playing.
In innocence, they wait,
Seranaded by the beating of a heart turned against them,
Of the decision made that hides the the truth of who they really are,
Their small lives too short for words to begin to give them voice -
There will be no screams when the shattering moment arrives
When their dark, pleasant shelter becomes a death trap beneath white antiseptic lights
And cruel hands, ignoring the fear and pain that overwhelms them,
Pull them into that other dark from which there is no return,
Aborted.
Innocence dies,
But the pain, though, echos on,
In the battered heart of one who chose wrong.
Kyrie eleison.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Snuggled deep in the warm comfortable darkness
Of the one who should love them like no other human,
Conceived in a moment of unthinking passion,
Unplanned for, undesired,
Two hundred and fifty lives out of the thousand,
Children who could shape the future,
Heros who could save the day,
Lives that would make a difference
Snuffed out,
Extinguished,
Their beginning an end.
In innocence, they wait,
Not realizing what they are in the eyes of others -
A crisis for the man who would not be a father,
A problem to be solved for one who has no time to mother
A sudden panic in the life of a child too young for the games she has been playing.
In innocence, they wait,
Seranaded by the beating of a heart turned against them,
Of the decision made that hides the the truth of who they really are,
Their small lives too short for words to begin to give them voice -
There will be no screams when the shattering moment arrives
When their dark, pleasant shelter becomes a death trap beneath white antiseptic lights
And cruel hands, ignoring the fear and pain that overwhelms them,
Pull them into that other dark from which there is no return,
Aborted.
Innocence dies,
But the pain, though, echos on,
In the battered heart of one who chose wrong.
Kyrie eleison.
Susan E. Stone, 2006
Labels: abortion, current evils
Saturday, September 11, 2004
In Memory of 9/11
I
Hear my prayer, O Lord,
and let my cry come unto thee,
and hear the voice of your children,
all those burdened
with death unexpected,
the dead, the dying, the survivors,
the blood of victims
here,
then,
throughout time
since Abel's blood first cried to you.
II
The Day
For some it was
a day to celebrate,
a day that a little David
brought down
a mighty Goliath.
that symbol of sin and oppression,
who would strip them of God
and truth and opportunity
and tear their world apart
and try to keep them
ground under it's thumb forever.
For some it was
the day life turned to ashes,
drifting in white dusty smoke
coating the survivors
as they groped,
ghostlike,
trying to find the light.
For some it was
children searching for fathers
now pulverized
beneath an unbelievable wreakage.
wives looking for husband
husbands crying for their wives,
voicemail messages played over and over,
the last quick message,
a final goodbye,
the last connection
before the unthinkable.
III
Lord have mercy.
Christ have mercy.
Lord have mercy.
For the hardness of our heart
Forgive us, O Lord.
For the passing of our wrongs down to our children,
Forgive us, O Lord.
For the celebration of the death of our enemies,
Forgive us, O Lord.
For choosing to nurse our hate rather than be reconciled with our neighbor,
Forgive us O Lord.
IV
Words.
Words were spoken,
and soon,
reality is warped into the image
cast by words.
The words were spoken
twisting peace into hate,
twisting plowshares into swords,
twisting buildings of people into rubble and ruin.
Where are the words
to ease the pain
of a woman who has lost her child?
In the anger of hate,
is she real
or just a counter?
Where are the words
to fill the heart
of a husband who lost his wife?
Is his loss
justified
by the blow against the enemy?
Where are the words
to fill the lives
of the newly orphaned?
Are their shattered lives
able to heal
the twisting of others' hearts?
V
Dear Lord,
This day, let me commend to you
all those killed
in hatred,
whether by sword,
stone,
scapel,
poison,
bullet,
bomb.
This day I commend to you
victims chosen
to terrorize the surviving,
children,
beloveds,
friends,
coworkers,
strangers.
And on this anniversary
of the evil that man willingly does to others,
teach us not to hate,
but to break the chains
that try to drag us down into the pit
one word at a time
one refusal to hate at a time,
one reaching out to those in need at a time,
one willingness to walk in your steps at a time.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
Hear my prayer, O Lord,
and let my cry come unto thee,
and hear the voice of your children,
all those burdened
with death unexpected,
the dead, the dying, the survivors,
the blood of victims
here,
then,
throughout time
since Abel's blood first cried to you.
II
The Day
For some it was
a day to celebrate,
a day that a little David
brought down
a mighty Goliath.
that symbol of sin and oppression,
who would strip them of God
and truth and opportunity
and tear their world apart
and try to keep them
ground under it's thumb forever.
For some it was
the day life turned to ashes,
drifting in white dusty smoke
coating the survivors
as they groped,
ghostlike,
trying to find the light.
For some it was
children searching for fathers
now pulverized
beneath an unbelievable wreakage.
wives looking for husband
husbands crying for their wives,
voicemail messages played over and over,
the last quick message,
a final goodbye,
the last connection
before the unthinkable.
III
Lord have mercy.
Christ have mercy.
Lord have mercy.
For the hardness of our heart
Forgive us, O Lord.
For the passing of our wrongs down to our children,
Forgive us, O Lord.
For the celebration of the death of our enemies,
Forgive us, O Lord.
For choosing to nurse our hate rather than be reconciled with our neighbor,
Forgive us O Lord.
IV
Words.
Words were spoken,
and soon,
reality is warped into the image
cast by words.
The words were spoken
twisting peace into hate,
twisting plowshares into swords,
twisting buildings of people into rubble and ruin.
Where are the words
to ease the pain
of a woman who has lost her child?
In the anger of hate,
is she real
or just a counter?
Where are the words
to fill the heart
of a husband who lost his wife?
Is his loss
justified
by the blow against the enemy?
Where are the words
to fill the lives
of the newly orphaned?
Are their shattered lives
able to heal
the twisting of others' hearts?
V
Dear Lord,
This day, let me commend to you
all those killed
in hatred,
whether by sword,
stone,
scapel,
poison,
bullet,
bomb.
This day I commend to you
victims chosen
to terrorize the surviving,
children,
beloveds,
friends,
coworkers,
strangers.
And on this anniversary
of the evil that man willingly does to others,
teach us not to hate,
but to break the chains
that try to drag us down into the pit
one word at a time
one refusal to hate at a time,
one reaching out to those in need at a time,
one willingness to walk in your steps at a time.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2004
Labels: current evils, Grief, man's inhumanity, Man's Sinfulness, Prayer for Mercy
Saturday, November 15, 2003
Response to Terror: A Prayer
Once again we humans offer up
a heaping pile of smoking rubble,
the open wreckage of buildings stripped of walls,
blood and crushed bodies,
the agony of the injured,
the wailing of the survivors,
a lingering cloud of dust that hovers for a time
like the bitter laughter of demons.
O Lord,
we commend our brothers and sisters to you,
crushed by the rubble,
torn by the explosion,
trapped, shattered and broken.
We commend to you, O Lord,
those whose anger burns like white hot steel,
victims of shattered dreams,
victims of the shattered dreams of others,
victims of exploitation,
victims of others' hatred,
victims of others' indifference,
victims used,
furnishing the bitter laughter
of demons dancing in the dust.
O Lord, open our hearts,
that we may be the instruments of your peace
in a world of hatred and anger,
use us to shed the balm to heal the wounded,
use us to heal the broken dreams,
use us to ease the hurt, the aching, the loss.
Lord, open our eyes,
remove the scales of our indifference,
that we may see the truth with your eyes,
and in seeing, respond in your way.
Teach us, O Lord,
how to break the bitter laughter of the darkness
with the light of your truth.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2003
Once again we humans offer up
a heaping pile of smoking rubble,
the open wreckage of buildings stripped of walls,
blood and crushed bodies,
the agony of the injured,
the wailing of the survivors,
a lingering cloud of dust that hovers for a time
like the bitter laughter of demons.
O Lord,
we commend our brothers and sisters to you,
crushed by the rubble,
torn by the explosion,
trapped, shattered and broken.
We commend to you, O Lord,
those whose anger burns like white hot steel,
victims of shattered dreams,
victims of the shattered dreams of others,
victims of exploitation,
victims of others' hatred,
victims of others' indifference,
victims used,
furnishing the bitter laughter
of demons dancing in the dust.
O Lord, open our hearts,
that we may be the instruments of your peace
in a world of hatred and anger,
use us to shed the balm to heal the wounded,
use us to heal the broken dreams,
use us to ease the hurt, the aching, the loss.
Lord, open our eyes,
remove the scales of our indifference,
that we may see the truth with your eyes,
and in seeing, respond in your way.
Teach us, O Lord,
how to break the bitter laughter of the darkness
with the light of your truth.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone, 2003
Labels: current evils, Mercy on Mankind
Saturday, November 08, 2003
Eclipse Night, 2003: A Prayer
O my Jesus,
on this dark eclipse night,
when once again
the thunder of hate shakes the night
leaving behind ruin,
and death,
and pain,
and shattered lives
done in the name of God,
dear Lord, forgive us.
Forgive us Lord,
for all the times we shed innocent blood,
lives yet to see the light of day,
lives disabled and inconvenient,
lives harmed by anger in the family,
lives harmed by anger of a stranger,
lives sacrificed for power
lives sacrificed for gain.
Forgive us Lord,
when we see suffering and turn blind eyes,
when we live lives enriched by others misery,
when we do not stop and hear the pain that others feel,
when we forget that doing what is right
is not only right for us and our friends.
Forgive us Lord,
the bloody hands we reach up to you,
in supplication,
in our misery and our fear,
guilty as sin.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
O my Jesus,
on this dark eclipse night,
when once again
the thunder of hate shakes the night
leaving behind ruin,
and death,
and pain,
and shattered lives
done in the name of God,
dear Lord, forgive us.
Forgive us Lord,
for all the times we shed innocent blood,
lives yet to see the light of day,
lives disabled and inconvenient,
lives harmed by anger in the family,
lives harmed by anger of a stranger,
lives sacrificed for power
lives sacrificed for gain.
Forgive us Lord,
when we see suffering and turn blind eyes,
when we live lives enriched by others misery,
when we do not stop and hear the pain that others feel,
when we forget that doing what is right
is not only right for us and our friends.
Forgive us Lord,
the bloody hands we reach up to you,
in supplication,
in our misery and our fear,
guilty as sin.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
Labels: current evils
Tuesday, October 21, 2003
Terri Schiavo, Jeb Bush, and Chalk One Up for the Good Guys
Dear Lord,
When evil seems so rampant,
and wickedness seems the way of the world,
thank you, Lord,
that we see men and women of good will
trying to do the right thing.
Lord, we hold up not just Terri,
but all the poor incapacitated people
whose caregivers think
that giving care
means giving death.
Lord, help us who know
that you are the giver of life
speak when we see evil,
shout instead of whisper,
and call evil for what it is.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
Dear Lord,
When evil seems so rampant,
and wickedness seems the way of the world,
thank you, Lord,
that we see men and women of good will
trying to do the right thing.
Lord, we hold up not just Terri,
but all the poor incapacitated people
whose caregivers think
that giving care
means giving death.
Lord, help us who know
that you are the giver of life
speak when we see evil,
shout instead of whisper,
and call evil for what it is.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
Labels: current evils
Sunday, September 28, 2003
A Prayer for Victims, Both Theirs and Mine
Let us pray
For all those victims
of injustice
and anger
and selfishness.
For all those babies never to be born,
for all those killed through violence,
for all those touched by terrorism,
for all those scarred by the anger of a loved one,
for all those marred by war,
for all those who die marked by our indiference,
Lord hear our prayer.
Forgive me, O Lord,
For all those times
I turned my back on someone I knew was in need,
for all those times
I hesitated because of my inconvenience,
for all the times
I did not cry out when I knew there was injustice,
for all those times
I didn't think to share,
For all the times
I said the word I knew would hurt,
for all those times
I didn't write the letter or make the visit,
for all those times
I had to prove I was right even though it hurt someone,
for all those times
I marked someone by my own indifference,
my own selfishness,
my own anger.
O my Jesus,
help me to always see you
in whatever distressing garb you choose to wear,
and let me realize
that by turning my back on them,
I am turning my back on you
and making the world a darker place
instead of a place filled with your light.
Susan E. Stone, © 2003
Let us pray
For all those victims
of injustice
and anger
and selfishness.
For all those babies never to be born,
for all those killed through violence,
for all those touched by terrorism,
for all those scarred by the anger of a loved one,
for all those marred by war,
for all those who die marked by our indiference,
Lord hear our prayer.
Forgive me, O Lord,
For all those times
I turned my back on someone I knew was in need,
for all those times
I hesitated because of my inconvenience,
for all the times
I did not cry out when I knew there was injustice,
for all those times
I didn't think to share,
For all the times
I said the word I knew would hurt,
for all those times
I didn't write the letter or make the visit,
for all those times
I had to prove I was right even though it hurt someone,
for all those times
I marked someone by my own indifference,
my own selfishness,
my own anger.
O my Jesus,
help me to always see you
in whatever distressing garb you choose to wear,
and let me realize
that by turning my back on them,
I am turning my back on you
and making the world a darker place
instead of a place filled with your light.
Susan E. Stone, © 2003
Labels: current evils, Discipleship
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Prayer on the Second Anniversary of 9-11
This day, O Lord,
we remember all those
who died almost before our eyes,
in the fire and dust and incomprehensible collapse,
victims of hate.
We pray for all those touched
by that evil,
the lives that were snuffed out,
the families who were shattered,
those angry enough to plan such actions
in your name.
And also Lord,
we commend to you
the many whose stories we will never know,
those marked by evil,
by pain and loss and sorrow and hate,
scarred by war and abuse
and others' indifference.
Keep them close to you
on this day
that is a monument
to man's inhumanity to man.
Forgive us our failure
to be peacemakers,
and help us to see why
it is necessary for us
to be light
and salt,
carriers of your peace
in this dark world,
to be your hands,
binding wounds,
uplifting our brothers.
Lord, heal the wounds in our own hearts,
scarred from that day
and let us see,
that even in the deepest darkness,
you are there
holding us close.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
This day, O Lord,
we remember all those
who died almost before our eyes,
in the fire and dust and incomprehensible collapse,
victims of hate.
We pray for all those touched
by that evil,
the lives that were snuffed out,
the families who were shattered,
those angry enough to plan such actions
in your name.
And also Lord,
we commend to you
the many whose stories we will never know,
those marked by evil,
by pain and loss and sorrow and hate,
scarred by war and abuse
and others' indifference.
Keep them close to you
on this day
that is a monument
to man's inhumanity to man.
Forgive us our failure
to be peacemakers,
and help us to see why
it is necessary for us
to be light
and salt,
carriers of your peace
in this dark world,
to be your hands,
binding wounds,
uplifting our brothers.
Lord, heal the wounds in our own hearts,
scarred from that day
and let us see,
that even in the deepest darkness,
you are there
holding us close.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
Labels: current evils, man's inhumanity
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
On Malice
O Lord,
remember this day
all those whose lives are touched by the tragedy
of human malice,
from the angry word spoken in haste,
the blow of an angry hand,
the pain caused by retribution
the bomb exploded.
O Lord,
let us always be aware
of the ripples caused by our harsh words,
our anger,
our willingness to act out of hurt,
and instead,
teach us to be instruments of your peace,
to heal instead of hurt,
to calm instead of agitate,
to love instead of hate.
Susan Stone
remember this day
all those whose lives are touched by the tragedy
of human malice,
from the angry word spoken in haste,
the blow of an angry hand,
the pain caused by retribution
the bomb exploded.
O Lord,
let us always be aware
of the ripples caused by our harsh words,
our anger,
our willingness to act out of hurt,
and instead,
teach us to be instruments of your peace,
to heal instead of hurt,
to calm instead of agitate,
to love instead of hate.
Susan Stone
Labels: current evils, Discipleship, man's inhumanity
Friday, July 25, 2003
In the Darkness of These Days
O my Jesus,
in the darkness of these days,
bring to our minds
the example of your martyrs who have gone before,
such as St. Maximilan Kolbe,
who show us by their example
how to choose what is right
and how to radiate your light
no matter the wickedness of the world around them.
O my Jesus,
in the darkness of these days,
may we who love you
learn from the example of your loving saints,
such as Blessed Teresa of Calcutta
how to show the truth of your light
by loving action
no matter the darkness they find surrounding them.
O my Jesus,
in the darkness of these days,
when hope seems thinner,
may we hear the message of your love for us,
from the gospels, from your witnesses such as St.
Faustina,
and know that no matter how dark the night seems to be
falling,
that we can trust in you, O Lord, and the light of your
love,
now and forever.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
O my Jesus,
in the darkness of these days,
bring to our minds
the example of your martyrs who have gone before,
such as St. Maximilan Kolbe,
who show us by their example
how to choose what is right
and how to radiate your light
no matter the wickedness of the world around them.
O my Jesus,
in the darkness of these days,
may we who love you
learn from the example of your loving saints,
such as Blessed Teresa of Calcutta
how to show the truth of your light
by loving action
no matter the darkness they find surrounding them.
O my Jesus,
in the darkness of these days,
when hope seems thinner,
may we hear the message of your love for us,
from the gospels, from your witnesses such as St.
Faustina,
and know that no matter how dark the night seems to be
falling,
that we can trust in you, O Lord, and the light of your
love,
now and forever.
Amen.
Susan E. Stone © 2003
Labels: current evils, Discipleship
