Prayer and meditation are important times in my day to express gratitude, ask for help, and set an intention for my life. When we come together in community for worship, we create meaning for our lives in a variety of way- lighting our flaming chalice, song, and silence. I enjoy guiding a congregation in prayer and meditation, expressing our community’s joy and grief, and reflecting on how we find mystery and Spirit at work in our lives.
Candle Lighting Prayer for San Bernardino Shooting, 2015
We light this candle as a sign of love for our Southern California community, from San Diego to San Bernardino and all its people and creatures.
A small light in this tender time can overcome a vast darkness.
It is a symbol of our longing for peace —
But we know that our prayers cannot just be symbolic gestures.
Our caring community aspires to be a source of freedom from violence and exclusion.
May we become the ones “we have been waiting for.”
Prayer for Memorial Day, 2016
On Memorial Day, we honor those men and women who have died while in military service. The day also gives the opportunity to recognize living veterans who continue to struggle with their experiences overseas and the hardship of reintegrating their lives at home.
I’ve heard veterans speak of the “deaths” carried in their hearts and minds, friends they lost in combat, and the pieces of their own souls, forever needing repair and compassion.
When someone passes in our community, we often learn of their achievements, their hobbies and friends, and their fully human lives.On this day, we recognize veterans who served and died, honoring their fully human lives, dedicated and vulnerable, courageous and fragile.
As the memorial poet John McCrae writes: “In flanders fields,” they “lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved.”
“Becoming Our Generous Acts,” October 2016
The human body is oriented toward these things: survival, connection, and purpose.
Let our worshipping together as a fellowship of Unitarian Universalists and newcomers, become our generous acts. May we make meaning together of our fatigue, our achey joints, our scars, and our memories. May we trouble the waters of the status quo and change the hearts and minds of those who are indifferent to the suffering of others. When we are asked to give, to be externally generous, may we feel less put upon by others in our midst, because we have already begun the work of being generous within ourselves, within our own bodies.
And most certainly now, in the final weeks before Election Day, may we together be vigil-keepers of the body, may we offer ourselves comfort and divinely human connection. May each of you– may we–“unfold through this wild storm to safety.”