Providing Christian resources from the YMCA past and present to nourish inclusive, equitable work in our diverse and global neighborhoods that build up healthy spirit, mind and body for all.
Click on pic for 30 second prayer on overcoming evil with good
World YMCA/YWCA Week of Prayer, started Sunday Nov 8, this prayer led by Tim Hallman, Director of Christian Emphasis, YMCA of Greater Fort Wayne, Indiana USA
Day 3 Rays of Hope World YMCA/YWCA Week of Prayer – Call to Action against Social Injustices
Click on pic for the full YMCA devotions this week
DAY 3: ADDRESSING SOCIAL INJUSTICES IN OURCOMMUNITIES: A CALL TO ACTION Devotion By Rosângela S. Oliveira, Executive Director of World Day of Prayer International Committee
BIBLICAL INSPIRATION: John 5:1-9a “After this there was a festival of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.” Jesus said to him, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.” At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk.”
QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION • What do you want “to be made well” in your community? • What are the initiatives that can make your community “stand up, take the mat and walk”? • What are your words of hope?”
“What Jesus invites us to imitate is his own desire, the spirit that directs him toward the goal on which his intention is fixed: to resemble God the Father as much as possible.”
Standing on the Mount of Olives in the Garden of Gethsemane, I was struck by the historical reliability and faithful tradition that this is the place where Jesus withdrew in preparation for the coming darkness on the night he was betrayed and handed over to the mob.
He prayed, he didn’t panic.
The stony ground upon which Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane, surrounded now by the Basilica of the Agony (also known as the Church of All Nations).
Prayer and panic are postures. They are responsive attitudes, often to crisis and pandemonium. They are embodied actions of your spirit.
Jesus often walked up to the Garden of Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives to rest, reflect, and pray. It was a safe place to recover from the hardships of his life and mission, as well as a way to prepare for heading back out into the crowds.
2,000 year old olive tree
Prayer is not a replacement for planning and preparation. Like prudence, it is a virtuous element we employ in our habits and daily rhythms to be at least partially ready for the chaos that will always emerge in our world.
What’s the alternative to paranoia and panic?
When pandemics roil up over us, when pandemonium gets whipped up by gossip, fear-mongering, and ignorance, what can you do in the midst of it? How do you resist the magnetic pull of the crowds to absorb the anxiety of infection and death?
Prayer is not magic incantations. Prayer has no real power within itself. For imitators of Christ, we believe that it is God the Father who embodies the real energy to hold all things together.
When we pray instead of panic, we put forth energy to align our spirit, mind and body to the faithful presence of our Lord.
When our OnPrinciple team was in Jerusalem, we spent time in the Church of All Nations near the rocky ground where Jesus knelt and prayed.
Church of All Nations
aka: Basilica of the Agony
altar by “stony ground”
From there we traversed up to the Lion’s Gate in the Old City, pausing to reflect where the first Christian martyr, Stephen, was stoned with chunks of rocks by a mob whipped up into a frenzied panic by the Pharisee Saul.
OnPrinciple team
Lion’s Gate
Bethesda pool ruins
What did Stephen do when surrounded by the crowd? He knelt on the stony street and prayed, looking up to the heavens, profoundly sensing the real presence of Christ.
It reminded me that it takes preparation to resist the urge to panic in the face of the fear-laced crowds.
From there we walked to the ancient ruins of the Bethesda pool, where Jesus met a man who had been crippled for over three decades. It was humbling to pause by the pool and reflect on the healing power that flowed from the Lord.
It’s interesting to note that the man wanted to be healed. C.S. Lewis observes in his book Mere Christianity, that there are people who don’t want to get well, they’ve gotten so used to their situation and circumstances.
To extend the analogy, there are those who want to panic, who want to be swept away by the pandemonium.
Our OnPrinciple team spent time at the Mount and Pool as part of a longer journey towards engaging in adaptive leadership practices. Each generation inherits and also adds to the complexity of their life, often adding sorrow to sorrow.
For adaptive leaders who want to bring healing to these complex and uncharted situations, to bring peace to the pandemonium, wisdom to the panic, let us can learn from our Lord and his season in Jerusalem.
Christians are called to take responsibility for the welfare of their community. When pandemics spread across the globe, followers of Christ have a duty to imitate the Lord, of leading, praying, preparing, and putting into practice actions that heal, protect, and care in a responsible way.
In seeking to imitate Christ our Lord, in reflecting upon his choices there in the Garden that evening, he chose to pray, not panic. May we prepare for chaos like him, in imitation of our Father in heaven.
Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives…knelt down and prayed: “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.”
An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the stony ground.
the Gospel according to Luke the physician, 22.39-44 [NIV]
“Personal prayer is the meeting place between the Eternal One and me; the Blessed Sacrament is the visible sign of my covenant with him.
That is why I believe in personal prayer, and why everyday I wait to meet him in Eucharist. To pray means to wait for the God who comes.
Every prayer-filled day sees a meeting with the God who comes; every night which we faithfully put at his disposal is full of his presence.
And his coming and his presence are not only the result of our waiting or a prize for our efforts: they are his decision, based on his love freely poured out.
His coming is bound to his promise, not to our works or virtue. We have not earned the meeting with God because we have served him faithfully in our brethren, or because we have healed up such a pile of virtue as to shine before Heaven.
God is thrust onward by his love, not attracted by our beauty.He comes in moments when we have done everything wrong, when we have done nothing…when we have sinned.”
– Carlo Carretto, The God Who Comes
#AGuideToPrayer
What strikes me most about this reflection on God and prayer is the humility and grace it evokes and presumes. Particular, the emphasis on God keeping his promises to us – that being a stronger force for how and when and why he makes himself known or acts in or through us. This perspective helps undermine prideful piety and controlling attitudes meant for good.
Prayer is more than dialogue and listening, more than wanting or waiting for answers. It can also be about hoping and seeking, coming to terms with God’s promises, submitting to them, and attending to the means of grace he has made available, the mystery, the agape, the beautiful communion.
Daily prayers are good and helpful, even keeping the divine hours or as St Paul insists, without ceasing. But in our work, rhythms of life, our schedules, our busyness, what is the space I make for myself to be present before the God who has come, is coming, and will come again?
In my spirit, with my mind, through my body, I can cultivate habits that aid me in experiencing life Eucharistcly. As the wind blows, so does the Spirit; my communion with the Lord is fueled by his love for all that he has made. It is never just me and God; his loyalty to me is tied up in his commitment to fulfill his promises to renew all things. Saints from ages past and those yet to be born, those around the world and throughout my neighborhood – and sinners whom God loves redemptively – these are all who Our Father works to keep his promises, always, unceasing, faithfully. Prayer is built on trust, even when as small as a mustard seed.
