Proper 15 (Year B, 2021): Litany for Going Out and Coming In

The bulk of my work can be accessed via Patreon
Patreon helps me make this work sustainable.
Thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.
Attribution guidelines are here.

In this week’s reading from 1 Kings 2, Solomon speaks to God in a dream. God asks Solomon what he wants, and Solomon explains that he is (or feels like he is?) “only a little child; I do not know how to go out or come in…” and asks for “an understanding mind to govern your people, able to discern between good and evil…” 

Scholars believe that Solomon was only 12 when he became king of Israel; a young child faced with a vast responsibility. I read that frank admission of young Solomon’s: I’m just a whippersnapper who doesn’t know hardly anything; and I feel such resonance with him. 

Especially in Covid days, when cases are increasing and ICU’s are at capacity in the area where I live. Especially when I consider that my kids are starting school in a red zone in which the local authorities have left us with virtually no ways to ensure their protection. Especially on weeks when the UN releases a devastating climate report calling it a “code red” for humanity.  Especially when the political divide is a veritable chasm of difference.

I am disheartened. And I am praying to God: I am a little child. I don’t even know how to go out or come in. I need wisdom for how to do life in a way that makes any sense in these trying days. 

So this week, in light of these scriptures and this life situation, I’m translating that prayer into something I hope will be useful congregationally. If this more raw version is not up your alley for this week, I invite you to check out Litany for Wisdom, which I wrote for Proper 15 in 2018. 


God, in this time of pandemic, 
Political extremes, 
And global unrest, 
We are overwhelmed….


Advent Week 1 (Year B, 2020): Destruction & Stirring

Hi! In 2019 I moved much of my work over to Patreon
as part of my effort to make this work sustainable.
So thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.

With this litany and the Lectionary selections for November 29, 2020, we begin a new Liturgical year. I do try to provide Advent litanies earlier than normal, as I understand clergy need to prepare for these church seasons in advance.

This litany follows closely with the themes presented in the Lectionary selections for Week 1 of Advent, Year B: themes of destruction, and the stirring of the reign of God on the horizon; of shift that are long-awaited and long-watched for.

This year, Advent’s subtle and shadowy themes resonate for me even more profoundly than usual, given the struggles of the year. I can echo the prophet Isaiah more readily this year: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” (Isaiah 64:1). We have felt the metaphors of the darkened sun and moon, the stars falling from the heavens, which Jesus describes in Mark 13, if we are paying attention. The shifts the scriptures describe - when the Son of Man comes in glory, when God’s might comes to save us (Psalm 80:2), when restoration comes (Psalm 80:7) - feel crucial, necessary, imminent.

In this year's Advent series, I'm using this phrase "There is a moment" as an opening line rather than the usual address of God. This is an intentional choice to help place us in the Now/Not Yet into which Advent invites us, and as a way to acknowledge the rumble of longing beneath our current reality. 


There is a moment,
As when fire kindles brushwood
Or heat brings water to a boil (1),
When the character of God is revealed…



Proper 29, Year A (Reign of Christ): Litany for Pandemic Response

Hi! In 2019 I moved much of my work over to Patreon
as part of my effort to make this work sustainable.
So thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.

This week’s litany is specifically focused on the pandemic, as is the attention of most of the U.S. with 247,000 dead, and over 1000 per day losing their lives to uncontrolled COVID-19. When I hear the words of Christ here in Matthew 25 saying, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me..,” all I can hear is the pleas of doctors and nurses to please wear a mask, don’t go to gatherings or bars, keep your distance. These are small acts of love that, lamentably, so many people who say they follow Christ are neglecting.

This parable is a powerful critique on this moment. On how we are responding collectively to this crisis and those most in danger of harm from it. On how willing or unwilling we are to do concrete but simple acts of love.

Honestly, I can’t get it out of my head. I have trouble understanding the world right now. It’s hard to write liturgy for these times, y’all.


God, help us to see that even the tiniest actions we do or don’t do
Can be a testament to love:
Wearing a mask,
Staying home instead,
Visiting outdoors at a few paces distance,
Taking measured precautions…

Proper 28 (Year A, 2020): Litany for God's Mercy

Hi! In 2019 I moved much of my work over to Patreon
as part of my effort to make this work sustainable.
So thanks for reading and subscribing.
You can find archived litanies here, and purchase my book here.

I have deep grief this week for the American Church and what I personally perceive as its rampant complicity with evil. I grieve even as I am elated to have the first woman elected to high federal office, for this momentous thing to happen in my lifetime, for my daughters and I to witness.

This litany follows along with the Lectionary readings for this week, but is a cry of my own heart. Much of the language is taken directly from the scriptures. Perhaps you can echo it.


Oh God, look upon us now
And have mercy.
For our society’s dysfunctions are set before you,
Our secret sins revealed in the light of your countenance (1).