Transfiguration Sunday (Year C, 2022): Litany for Spiritual Practice

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See also: “Transfiguration Sunday (Year C): Litany for Impatience” from 2019)

I find it interesting how the timeline goes in the story of Christ’s transfiguration. I notice that he gets transfigured (filled with light) and meets with his guides (Moses and Elijah) while he’s praying alone. Not in a group.

Jesus is in his corner minding his own business attending to his own spiritual work in solitude. And that’s where the transfiguration happens. That’s the place from which the guidance and encouragement comes. From the spiritual practice of prayer, contemplation, silence, solitude.

I meet plenty of people who think I’m totally wrong about spiritual practice. Meaning, spiritual practice that involves stillness, solitude or silence being a path to communion with God. People disagree with me, and that’s fine. The world’s mystics seem to agree, based on their writings. Regardless, I’ll still preach the gospel of the transformative (transfigurative) power of spiritual practice till my body gives out.


God, we set our intention to realize the truth about ourselves:
That we bear your image,
That your Kin-dom is within us,
When we look in a mirror, we see your glory.

Epiphany 3 (Year C, 2022): Litany for How Not to Quit

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I chuckled at Jesus’ lil mic drop moment in this week’s gospel of Luke 4. He stands up, reads a brief passage from Isaiah, hands the scroll back, sits down and says “this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” I’m it, y’all. It’s me and it’s happening here and now. I feel a little sass from him here and I like it.

He’s “proclaiming release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free… the year of the Lord's favor." A big deal. A strong statement - a MANIFESTO! - and one that threatens to topple all the power systems of his day.

And I’m thinking, if we were to proclaim these things with as much confidence here in our own time and place, what systems would topple? The prison-industrial complex? The medical-industrial complex? Capitalism’s hierarchy of haves and have-nots?...

My thinking is: they killed Jesus because they knew he was serious. He was working for a large-scale power shift and toppling of hierarchies. They thought killing the head would stop the beast, but SURPRISE WE’RE STILL HERE. Of course, lots of people interpret this differently than I do.

So I wonder, how do we go all in for this liberation manifesto as imagined by Isaiah and embraced by the Christ? How can we put our money and time and action where our mouth is? And, knowing that the powers that be won’t like it… that even our own religious systems and hierarchies won’t like it, that we will face ongoing resistance and a long, uphill battle?

Further, how can we partner with and serve people of faith who have already been doing this long uphill, resistance-laden work for centuries? Like the Rev. Dr. King whom we celebrated in the US this week, and so many other civil rights activists and other advocates doing long work?

I hope in 2022 we are not just thinking about this but actually doing it.


God, we are waking up to ways we have been complacent with Christ’s vision.
When he said, “I’m here to free captives,
Heal broken systems and wake up oblivious people,
Dismantle oppression in all forms,”
We believe he meant it.
And we hear the invitation to participate.

Proper 23 (Year B 2021): Litany for Simple Teachings

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I like how Job, in this week’s text, longs for darkness. He says, “ If only I could vanish in darkness, and thick darkness would cover my face!” (Job 23:17). As though the covering of darkness would be a balm, a peaceful comfort.

I have been known to retreat to the comfort of a dark room, when I have felt overwhelmed or overstimulated, when the work and the world become too much. I take solace in that Christ sympathizes with my weakness (Hebrews 4:15), and is approving of my rest. I take solace in these expressions of despair from characters in the texts; they are like me, limited in energy and understanding, in need of restoration.

Like every person who has ever lived, I am tempted to make too much of worldly possessions, of societal status, of achievements, of reputation. And thank goodness for the liberating example of Christ, who points me again and again, back to my true priorities: the thriving of my own soul, the being of help to the needy, the being present to the world’s beauty as well as its pain.

In a complex and overwhelming life, we are invited back to simplicity.


God, this life has never been simple.
We humans are complex creatures,
Capable of great suffering
And great love…

Proper 21 (Year B 2021): Litany for Getting Real

This week’s texts are *gritty* - we get two heavy hitter First testament stories: Queen Esther going to bat for her people against evil Haman and winning like a boss. And Moses having an emotional breakdown because he just.can’t.handle.these complainy-pants people anymore. 

Then in the Gospel reading, we get Jesus laying down some real talk to John, et al. He says (using some striking metaphors involving intentional amputation of troublesome body parts) get rid of your ego. It’s holding you back and keeping you mired in suffering - in “hell” as the text puts it.  

Seriously, Jesus is not pulling any punches here: you’re better off drowning yourself than letting your gate-keepy ego create all these hierarchies and cliques (Mark 9:42). It’s enough to make a reader sweat. Harsh. 

Now, I don’t *actually* think that Jesus wants anyone to hack off their foot or gouge out their eye. I tend to think he’s using a rhetorical device, which is something most humans I know do fairly frequently. I also hear the humor in it. Like, dude, go ahead and maim yourself before you decide to create more hell on earth. 

Regardless of how you read it, it’s a pretty stark warning. Get rid of that which holds you back from life everlasting, and also harms others. And that which holds you back is usually your attachment to ego and hierarchy. Jesus is getting real. 

And Queen Esther is getting real, risking everything to save the literal necks of her marginalized community/family (Esther 7:2). It’s life or death and she is using every tool she has.

Moses is also getting real, admitting his exhaustion and consternation with the Hebrew people to God - he says he’d rather die than go on alone, as sole leader of a fractious and difficult group of people. Moses is STRESSED. And, in the story, God gives him an out, deciding to share the load of leadership with some 70 other elders (Numbers 11:25). 

I wonder what we need to get real about in our communities. I wonder if we might use these stories to inspire us to deeper authenticity and wholeness, honesty and humility. Here’s a prayerful place to start:


God, we are getting real with you:
Admitting our weaknesses, 
Our needs, 
Our discouragements, 
Our problems, 
Our exhaustion. …


Proper 14 (Year B 2021): Litany for Re-Training Ourselves

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In the First Testament readings, we glimpse Elijah and David in unique moments of deep grief. David weeps for the loss of his son Absalom. Elijah is in despair, such that he longs for death, and running for his life into the wilderness, where receives miraculous provision: bread.

In this week’s gospel text from John 6, Jesus continues his thoughts on being bread. I’m particularly struck (again) by him saying: “whoever believes has eternal life.” It’s so radical! It’s not “whoever behaves.” It’s not “whoever gives assent to this list of theological doctrines.” It’s whoever believes. In other words, whoever is willing to assume the consciousness of eternal life, eternity, the eternal NOW… whoever is convinced that God’s Community (Kingdom, Kin-dom) is right now. Whoever can perceive their own self in light of Love. Whoever knows in their bones that they have, they ARE, the bread!

The whole gamut of human emotions is present in this week’s texts, and here is Jesus saying (my paraphrase, obviously): Don’t complain. I’m the living bread and so are you. Be satisfied and live as though it is so. Live in this eternal satisfaction.

It's safe to say I get pretty jazzed about this. It’s safe to say my understanding of these kinds of statements made by The Christ has come a LONG way. Here is Jesus understanding his own true identity: God in flesh, the character of God made tangible here in 3D; and offering that shared identity, inheritance, belonging, to anyone willing to take it on too.

The text from Ephesians gives us a glimpse into how Paul imagines people who have taken on this consciousness might behave: truthful, able to be angry yet self-controlled, kind, tenderhearted, forgiving, focused on and magnetizing beauty rather than evil. It’s a really lovely vision of how to live that we get here from him.

What if we could re-train how we think about ourselves? What if we could learn to live as though we have access to everything that Christ has access to? I think the world would inevitably be different and better. I think we would come into spiritual power that would spill over into all aspects of our lives. We would start to live Saint Paul’s glorious and lovely description of us as “imitators of God.”


God, we want so much to be able to shift our consciousness
Into the consciousness that Christ shares:
But our beliefs about ourselves so often hold us back.
We have trouble remembering Christ in us….

Proper 13 (Year B 2021): Litany for Getting Full

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Hi friends. I’m in a particularly rough summer, dealing with some of the worst anxiety of my life and struggling to find the creative spark. It’s coming later in the week these days. I’m grateful for this weekly practice of Lectio Divina with the week’s Lectionary, and tapping into goodness that I always seem to find here, even if I’d rather post these to you on Tuesday rather than Thursday. Thanks for being here with me.

I’m noting this week’s Lectionary passages from 2 Samuel 11, Exodus 16, and John 6 most particularly today.

King David had an entire kingdom available to him, all the women and sexual pleasure he could imagine, and yet he couldn’t be satisfied; he had to steal more for himself, raping Bathsheba and murdering her husband to gain ownership of her.

The Hebrews in the Desert (Exodus 12) couldn’t get full on plain old heavenly manna. They needed more to be satisfied. More miracles were necessary to fill their bellies up.

In John 6, Jesus has just finished feeding a crowd of people a miraculous meal at which they could eat to fullness, and a little while later they are still chasing him around hoping for satisfaction. He tells them “I am the bread of life…” (John 6:35).

As my own interpretation of the sayings of Jesus has evolved, I’ve come to recognize the invitation inside of all his statements. When Jesus says, “I am the bread of life,” I interpret that to mean that I too can come to understand myself as being the bread of life; that I too can come to find satisfaction, full-bellied and abundant, with the resources innately available to me. The “true bread from heaven” is within me as well, waiting to be acknowledged and accessed.

In my own life I struggle with finding contentment, with being satisfied. Unmanaged, I tend to focus on what I regret, on the choice I didn’t make. I recognize this tendency in myself, and it’s part of why gratitude practice is so profoundly necessary for me. Appreciation for *what is* must be part of my grounding practice. It helps me remember that I *am full* and that the bread of heaven is within me.

Here is a prayer for us as we work on these skills of remembering and accessing the bread of life, as modeled by the Christ, that is already within us. Hopefully it will be good medicine for our longing. 


God, most of us go our whole lives thinking we are empty
And can only be filled by something outside of us.
We search outside of ourselves, inattentive to the Divine within,
Looking to meet our needs by inferior means;
Only to find ourselves thirsty again,
Hungry for the next junk meal.