Sometimes the best prayers come out of just sitting still, and you don’t have to be a minister, either. Blogger UUMomma wrote this in September:

Today, a prayer, I think

by blogger UUMomma

Okay, God. I’m listening. I sat in the sun and ate dumplings yesterday and the wind blew over and through me, much as it did that day I stood on a ridge near an old, old battlefield.

They are all old battlefieds, aren’t they God? All the spaces we inhabit hold the old and new battles, the seen and the unseen. Those battles between classes, between races, between lovers, between parents and children, bosses and workers, even between friends. Those interior battles, too, I see, within the shifting, temporary walls that hold me in and in place.

The wind is the same and it holds that which binds us one to another, when we look, when we listen, when we feel. The sun warm on my face, the wind lifting my hair, the taste of plum sauce sweet on my tongue–you have my attention. And I thank you for offering me this moment of sight and sense and grace.

Amen

Source: “Today, a prayer, I think” by blogger UUMomma, posted September 12, 2007, used with permission from the author.

I’ve spent a very enjoyable portion of the morning exploring The New Hymn and Tune Book, with services, published by the American Unitarian Association in 1914. Blogger Fausto was kind enough to point me to this book in the comments on this post over on my journal, and luckily, Google Books has the whole thing readily available and searchable.

The theologies and liturgies from the turn of the last century fascinate me, and make me wonder what Unitarian Universalism might look like today and in the future if we were to engage more fully with the words used in our churches a hundred years ago, perhaps adapting them for our modern sensibilities. This prayer is one of many from this particular volume that speaks deeply to me.

Prayer for Comfort and Faith

from The New Hymn and Tune Book, with services, 1914

O thou whose name is Love and whose compassions fail not: let thy merciful kindness be for our comfort when burdens are heavy and sorrow is near, — when our hearts fail us for the things that are coming to pass, and we fear as we enter into the cloud. When our dear ones die out of our sight, still, grant to us a large and happy faith, and in our own last hour lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us. Thou art the strength of those who put their trust in thee. Send out thy light and thy truth, to shine pure and strong over death and the grave. Amen.

Source: Prayer for Comfort and Faith, from The New Hymn and Tune Book, with services, pg 48, published by the American Unitarian Association in 1914

Theodore Parker (August 24, 1810-May 10, 1860), a contemporary of Emerson and Channing, among others, served the West Roxbury Unitarian Church in Massachusetts beginning in 1837. Now known as Theodore Parker Church Unitarian Universalist, the congregation still celebrates and wrestles with his legacy.

Parker is credited with being a pivotal figure in bringing Unitarian theology beyond a purely Biblical basis, and was in fact denounced as not practicing Christianity, after delivering A Discourse on the Transient and Permanent in Christianity (The Works of Theodore Parker, volume 4, pg. 1) at an ordination in 1841.

For a brilliant account of Parker’s life and writings, see Dean Grodzin’s Book, American Heretic: Theodore Parker and Transcendentalism, excerpts of which are available on Google Books.

This prayer, published in 1864 in The Life and Correspondence of Theodore Parker (p. 39), illustrates Parker’s holistic view of god and his sense of the constant reaching, stretching, deepening that human beings attempt in order to be closer to what he called the “Absolute Religion” in his famous sermon in 1841.

Prayer

by Rev. Theodore Parker

O Thou eternal One, may I commune
With Thee, and for a moment bathe my soul
In Thy infinity, Mother and Sire
Of all that are? In all that is art Thou;
Being is but by Thee, of Thee, in Thee;
Yet, far Thou reachest forth beyond the scope
Of space and time, or verge of human thought
Transcendant God! Yet, ever immanent
In all that is, I flee to Thee, and seek
Repose and soothing in my Mother’s breast.
0 God, I cannot fear, for Thou art love,
And wheresoe’er I grope I feel Thy breath!
Yea, in the storm which wrecks an argosy,
Or in the surges of the sea of men
When empires perish, I behold Thy face,
I hear Thy voice, which gives the law to all
The furies of the storm, and Law proclaims,
“Peace, troubled waves, serve ye the right—be still!”
From all this dusty world Thou wilt not lose
A molecule of earth, nor spark of light.
I cannot fear a single flash of soul
Shall ever fail, outcast from Thee, forgot.
Father and Mother of all things that are,
I flee to Thee, and in Thy arms find rest.
My God! how shall I thank Thee for Thy love!
Tears must defile my sacramental words,
And daily prayer be daily penitence
For actions, feelings, thoughts which are amiss:
Yet will I not say, “God, forgive!” for Thou
Hast made the effect to follow cause, and bless
The erring, sinning man. Then, let my sin
Continual find me out, and make me clean
From all transgression, purified and bless’d!

Source: Prayer by the Rev. Theodore Parker (August 24, 1810-May 10, 1860), published in 1864 in The Life and Correspondence of Theodore Parker (p. 39)

Unitarian Universalism draws from many sources, as written in the principles and purposes of our faith, one of which is the “words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love.”

Rumi (September 30, 1207–December 17, 1273) is one such prophetic person. Decidedly not a Unitarian Universalist, but rather a Muslim poet, his words reach across the ages to inform our ways of living in the here and now. The 800th anniversary of his birth is next week, and to celebrate him, I bring you “Love Dogs.” You can also view a beautiful video of translator Coleman Barks reading this poem with accompanying music here.

Love Dogs

by Rumi

One night a man was crying,
Allah! Allah!
His lips grew sweet with the praising,
until a cynic said, “So! I have heard you
calling out, but have you ever gotten any response?”

The man had no answer to that.
He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.

He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,
in a thick, green foliage.
“Why did you stop praising?”
“Because I’ve never heard anything back.”
“This longing you express is the return message.”

The grief you cry out from
draws you toward union.

Your pure sadness
that wants help
is the secret cup.

Listen to the moan of a dog for its master.
That whining is the connection.

There are love-dogs
no one knows the names of.

Give your life
to be one of them.

Source: “Love Dogs,” by Rumi, interpreted by Coleman Barks.

I found a marvelous resource on Google Books: Sunlit Days, a collection of daily prayers and readings by a wonderfully diverse group of writers, published in 1915.

This gem of a prayer, dated to be read on July 23, but beautiful any day of the year, comes from the Rev. Clarence R. Skinner (March 23, 1881-August 26, 1949). Rev. Skinner was a Universalist minister, serving churches in New York and Massachusetts before becoming a Professor of Applied Christianity at the Crane Theological School of Tufts College. He later founded the Community Church of Boston, free from any creedal test for membership and not affiliated with any religious denomination, which he served for 15 years in addition to his teaching duties.

One of his most influential books, The Social Implications of Universalism, is also available in full on Google Books. (I would have chosen a section of this for today’s post, but I’d have to post the entire book!!)

Prayer from Sunlit Days, 1915

by Rev. Clarence R. Skinner (March 23, 1881-August 26, 1949)

We thank Thee, Lord, for this new day which shines across the sparkling hills with all the freshness and purity of the first day. Wilt Thou give us sensitive hearts and childlike eyes that we may thrill with the beauty and joy of it. Help us to be happy as the multitudinous birds, scattering their golden songs in air, and as trustful as the first shy flowers of spring, adventuring through dark and wild. May we keep this day as Thou hast given it to us — fresh, sweet, and pure. May we fill it with earnest work, great-hearted love, happy play, contagious laughter. Help us so to live that when we lay down to sleep, the memory of this day shall bless us with exceeding peace. Amen.

Source: Prayer from Sunlit Days, archived on Google Books, by Rev. Clarence R. Skinner, 1915.

I had the privilege of getting to know the Rev. Dr. Lyn Oglesby at Meadville Lombard Theological School, where she was working on her M.Div. degree a year ahead of my husband. She’s brilliant, an absolute hoot, and great fun at the poker table.

She also writes really wonderful things for her congregation, All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church in Shreveport, Louisiana. This meditation is just a small example:

Meditation for February 26, 2006

Rev. Dr. Lyn Oglesby

Spirit of love and giver of life, we bring our love and gratitude for our lives and for the opportunity to be ourselves and to be with others in peace and friendship. We know that full understanding is beyond us, but let us continue to search for truth and to create meaning in our lives through continuous learning, working together in harmony, playful times, and loving times with family.

As we mourn for those we and other have lost, as we hope for speedy recoveries of those who are ill and in pain, we pause to speak the names of those who are in our hearts and minds….

Every day bring us new challenges and new opportunities. Let us work toward transforming those challenges into greater opportunities.

Let us pause to appreciate our good fortunes, and to think of ways to help those who are not as fortunate as we. For the smallest gesture or helping hand often can make a huge difference in the life of someone who is suffering.

Let us always smile when we greet little children, listen genuinely to the ideas and feelings of adolescents. Let us remember to say important things to people we love. Let us not regret when someone is gone that we have not told him how much he or she meant to us, or what we appreciate and loved about him. Let us live in such a way that we have no regrets when we get ready to cross that final river.

And let us be together in this church -– be together in love and laughter, in good works and service to our fellows. Let us always remember to welcome the stranger, not because that stranger might be the Buddha or Jesus in disguise, but because to welcome anyone is to generate more fellowship, more collegiality, more love. “For I was a stranger, and you took me in.” Let no one leave this place feeling like a stranger, but welcomed from the depths of our hearts. For loneliness can be hard to bear, and the welcoming smile can help to overcome pain that we might never know lay lurking below the surface of someone’s countenance.

Let us begin this week anew, with fresh outlooks, with delight in nature, with appreciation of friends and family, with new energy for our work, and with commitment to make the world a better place for more people.

Source: Meditation for February 26, 2006 (PDF), Rev. Dr. Lyn Oglesby, serving the All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church of Shreveport, Louisiana.

Hiatus over!

Today I share with you a blog post-prayer from the Rev. Parisa Parsa, who writes the wonderful new Unitarian Universalist blog, “pastor prayers.” Rev. Parsa serves the First Parish Unitarian Universalist in Milton, Massachusetts, and offers a lovely reflection on parenting small children and on getting along with other humans in this world of ours in general:

“When We All Have Something to Learn”

by Rev. Parisa Parsa
posted on “pastor prayers” on July 14, 2007

God of the in-between territory, where human needs converge and sometimes clash, guide me through these tender times.

I’ve reluctantly gotten used to the referee role of parenting, mediating disputes over sharing and hitting, tattling and bad words. I already pray daily not to be too shrill, and not to be too indulgent, and not to say things that will come back and bite me when my son tries to apply the same rules to me, and generally not to screw my child up any more than is necessary. But now we’re in the emotional zone that takes it to the next level. We’re into the disputes in which no one is wrong, but the clash of differing needs can be devastating.

(Read on … )

A prayer today from the Rev. Jennifer Owen-O’Quill, who serves “2U,” Second Unitarian Church in Chicago, IL. I had the privilege of being in the sanctuary of that church the morning she gave this prayer:

Prayer

by Rev. Jennifer Owen-O’Quill, September 10, 2006

Creator of Life, Source of Love, God of many names, yet always nameless - we seek after You this morning.

When we find ourselves separated from others, either with loneliness and isolation or with anger, hurt or fear, help us to find a way to reach out and break through our constricted hearts and forlorn spirits to find ourselves connected once again with family and friends. And if we are unable to reach out ourselves, may there be someone who reaches in and offers us the shelter of their friendship.

We all need to know Love — to give and receive this is the greatest gift of human life. May we be fashioned into a people that are able to share this Love. May we be fearless in offering our love into places when warmth and compassion seem absent.

May we stretch our hearts even further than we thought possible to reach someone whose has hurt us so deeply that anger and vengeance have boiled in our blood. Give us the patience to persevere as we seek to offer our forgiveness for even those deep wounds, for we know our own anger can turn on us, and cause even more hurt and suffering for us and for those we love.

And may we rejoice with the love that comes to us, generously and unexpectedly.

And may that force which creates and sustains Love be ever present in this sanctuary, and dwell at the heart of this community now and always.

For the world, with its war and misunderstanding, its hatred and prejudice, needs so much of the grace that brings love to the most unexpected of places. Surprise us with that grace, and fashion us into a people who might be instruments of Your peace.

Shalom, Salaam and Amen.

Source: Rev. Jennifer Owen-O’Quill, serving Second Unitarian Church in Chicago, IL, September 10, 2006

Today, a prayer from the late Rev. Marjorie Bowens-Wheatley, who served our movement well and left us much too soon:

Rev. Marjorie Bowens-Wheatley

Pastoral Prayer delivered at Fourth Universalist Society in New York City on March 9, 2003

“O God about whom we know so little, but ask so much,”
Goddess of Justice, giver and sustainer all Life:

Your daughters and sons call upon you once again
as we did in centuries past.
We have known war, and once again, there are rumors of wars.
And so we come this morning
to lay this burden on the altar of prayer.

We know that violence cannot sustain us …
And so we seek a new way:
a way that leads to peace …
a way that leads to the promise of
freedom, justice, and security
for all the peoples of the Earth.

Oh Thou who gives us perfect freedom to find the ways of truth:

We know that democracy is a fragile thing that needs to be guarded;
And some of us see our nation taking a backward step—isolating and insulating itself from the world.

It’s easy to think that our voices are not being heard;
that we have been silenced.
And under such circumstances,
one can easily resort to disillusionment and anger.

But let our thoughts not turn to cynicism and despair.
Let our fears not become helplessness or hopelessness.

Help our leaders to transcend their delusion
about the righteousness of their cause.
Help them to respect the Sacredness of Life more than conquest.

In the coming days and weeks,
as we wander through pathways unknown,
“Grant us wisdom. Grant us courage.
Lest we miss your peaceful goal.”

Ashé. As’Salaam Alakim. Blessed be. Shalom, and Amen.

Source: the Rev. Marjorie Bowens-Wheatley, as published on UUA.org as part of the Unitarian Universalist Perspective Liturgical Elements archives.

To build on Wednesday’s reflection on a Unitarian Universalist prayer life, today I bring you these words from Rev. Dr. Lindsay Bates:

Receive, O Mystery, the words of our hearts.

If prayer worked like magic – if I knew the words that would guarantee prayer’s power – I know what I would pray:

Let life be always kind to our children.
Let sorrow not touch them.
Let them be free from fear.
Let them never suffer injustice,
nor the persecutions of the righteous.
Let them not know the pain of failure –
of a project, a love, a hope, or a dream.
Let life be to them gentle and joyful and kind.
If I knew the formula, that’s what I’d pray.

But prayer isn’t magic, and life will be hard. So I pray for our children – with some hope for this prayer:

May their knowledge of sorrow be tempered with joy.
May their fear be well-balanced by courage and strength.
May the sight of injustice spur them to just actions.
May their failures be teachers, that their spirits may grow.
May they be gentle and joyful and kind.
Then their lives will be magic, and life will be good.

So may it be. Blessed be. Amen.

Source: UUA.org Worship Web, “Receive, O Mystery, the words of our hearts” by Rev. Dr. Lindsay Bates, Unitarian Universalist Society of Geneva, IL

Bonus: You might also be interested in this post from PeaceBang (Rev. Victoria Weinstein) on what it’s like to be a professional pray-er, and a further reflection from Rev. Obijuan at Returning.