Epiphany 4 (Year C, 2022): Litany for Conduits of Love

In this week’s gospel reading from Luke 4, Jesus is speaking some hard truths that his audience doesn’t like to hear and it nearly gets him thrown off a cliff. And what is this message that is so offends the tender ears of his listeners? Simply put: you. aren’t. special. 

Mmm, they do not want to hear that Israel isn’t the primary (read: only) beneficiary of God’s love. They don’t want to hear that God healed a Syrian and fed a Sidonite while Israelites ailed and hungered. God is supposed to be their very own pet god, working solely on their behalf. 

And Jesus, as ever, points out instead the boundlessness of God’s love and regard, for humans of all nationalities. Not just Israelite Jews. And not just American Christians, either. 

Jesus is breathing fire here, and it is the fire of unconditional love. May we learn how to channel it too! Even though it might make the gatekeepers mad. 

(I’ve included elements from the other readings in this week’s Lectionary selection in this litany as well.)



God, we are working on knowing that you’re within us. 
We’re getting better at working with the power you share with us. 
Your power and energy are unlimited, 
But our humanity is a finite container;
So instead of being containers, 
We’re learning to be like pipes - conduits of love. 


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.

Lent 1 (Year C): Litany for Weakness

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I got waylaid by a terrible flu for the last 7 days. And still my brain is not entirely online. I find it so interesting how the Lectionary seems to coincide with my own real-life events. Here I have been in a fog of weakness, reliant on help from others just to get through. And the Lectionary brings me this story.

In Luke’s account of the temptation of Christ, we see Christ refute the devil’s efforts at getting him to “prove” himself. If you make bread from stones, you’ll show us all. If you worship me I’ll make them know your authority. If you jump off the temple room, the angels will be forced to carry you, and everyone will know you’re the real deal.

Isn’t this what we are always feeling like we have to do as humans? Prove ourselves? We feel like we have to prove that we’re strong, or invincible, or in control, or knowledgeable, or, at the very least NOT WEAK. I can tell you I have had not one shred of control over anything in the last week. Every plan canceled. Every intention thwarted. Every task put off.

And Jesus refuses the whole game. He goes willingly to the physical weakness of hunger and deprivation. He goes willingly to the vulnerability of harsh desert. He doesn’t retreat to a well-stocked fortress, but an empty wasteland of weakness.

I guess this is a lesson we learn from Lent: that weakness is strength. That proving ourselves is a game the ego plays, not the Christ-consciousness.




Oh God, we come to Lent to face ourselves:
Our desperate need to prove our worth,
Our hunger for reputation, wealth, and influence;
Our ego’s power over us…



Epiphany Week 5 (Year C): Litany for Confronting Our Privilege

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The gospel reading this week comes from Luke 4. Jesus has just quoted Isaiah 61 in the synagogue on a Sabbath, stating that his mission is the same; that God “has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners…” and so on. “Today, this has been fulfilled,” he says (Luke 4:21). His mission is freedom and deliverance and grace.

And then in the section we’re given this week, Jesus goes on to speak a bit more about his mission. He gets more specific. As Karoline Lewis puts it, Jesus “...reveals for whom [he] has come -- the widows, the lepers, the outsiders. Jesus’ whole ministry will be for the least of these, over and over again. Moreover, Jesus is for everyone” (2). And with that revelation, he is promptly driven out of town, his life threatened, and he must escape by (presumably) miraculous means.

Why were those folks so enraged by Christ’s words there? Back to Dr. Lewis: “Jesus’ sermon in Nazareth is a prophetic message. Jesus tells the truth about the realities of our world, where the lowly are looked down upon, where the poor sleep in cardboard boxes under freeways, where the captives remain in their prisons, where the rich live exceedingly full lives.”  Jesus confronts their, and our, privilege.

The outcast, the forgotten, the marginalized, those who exist in the liminal spaces - those are always the ones at the center of Christ’s gospel. And we do well to hear, and to allow the spirit to work her grace on us as we confront our own privilege as hearers, to allow ourselves to give up the prized place of centrality in the narratives we tell ourselves.

It may make us mad at first. It may make us want to run Jesus, or whomever the prophet confronting us happens to be, out of town or off a cliff (3). But if we’re following Jesus authentically, we will have to confront our own privilege, grow some compassion, and get outside of ourselves. Here is a prayer for that process.

God, we know from the message and example of Christ
That the poor and helpless are beloved by you,
That the outsider and outcast occupy your heart,
That the lonely and the prisoner have your attention…

Epiphany Week 4 (Year C): Litany for Parts of a Whole

I find it interesting that the Lectionary always seems to speak so keenly to the current moment. The past few days I’ve contemplated the state of things, and Dr. King’s legacy, and how the Church (capital C) is doing, and how the country is doing. And I attended an MLK memorial/celebration march and service at a local sibling church, which was inspiring in some ways, but sobering in others. We have so far to go with dismantling white supremacy in this country, and within the American Church; and that is not a new or disputable fact.

What I’m learning from listening to and reading BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) activists is that we white people need to listen humbly, educate ourselves and our communities, and support the work. And a great way to support the work is by financially contributing to organizations that uplift BIPOC communities and meet their needs. I’m doing this as I can, and I encourage my white siblings to as well. Here are a few I’m particularly inspired by*:

Equal Justice Initiative
Million Hoodies
A Voice for the Unheard
Black Women’s Health Initiative
Partnership with Native Americans

I’ve written this week’s litany with the Lectionary selections in mind, which remind us of our unchangeable status as parts of a whole, as siblings, and as co-laborers. What hurts one sector of our Beloved Community, hurts us all. What uplifts, uplifts us all. Christ’s stated mission in Luke 4 is our mission, too. And…


We are all part of each other.
Our connectedness is unbreakable.
Any separation is only imagined.

If you’re looking for other litanies surrounding these topics, please check out
Litany for Justice and Equality
Litany for MLK Day
Litany for Addressing Racism
Litany for Embracing Race

*Even small amounts matter. But I know, not everyone can contribute financially. Do what you can, educate yourself via the multitude of free resources in local libraries and the internet, be curious, be humble. And may God bless your efforts.