Skip to main content

make us one

No automatic alt text available.


In 1908, a Franciscan Friar named Paul Wattson instituted the Octave of Christian Unity, 8 days focused on praying for church unity. Over the last century, this period of time morphed into what is now known as Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, and at present, it is observed by many churches in the Catholic, Anglican, Orthodox, and Protestant traditions. This past week, I was privileged to participate in an evening of prayer and worship commemorating this ecumenical call to prayer. There were ten churches represented as we gathered in downtown Montreal on a stormy January evening. That in itself seemed pretty significant.

One of the large Catholic churches in Montreal, Mary Queen of the World Cathedral, hosted the meeting in their parish hall. Their priest gave a very gracious opening welcome. Short meditations on reconciliation were given by a female Anglican pastor (in French) and by the pastor of a small congregation affiliated with the Mennonites (in English). A chorale from the Cathedral sang joyful gospel songs in French. We were invited to attend different prayer stations around the room to write our prayers on post-it notes or to say silent prayers and light a candle to represent our intercession. The themes of the different prayer stations were Germany (the featured country for this year's week of prayer), First Nations, the government and the city, students, reconciliation, and creation care. It was moving to see people standing in silent prayer, lighting candles, writing their deepest desires and requests on small rectangles of yellow paper, and seeing the walls fill with words of hope and compassion.

As part of the evening, several people were invited to say public prayers in French and English. I was asked to pray for reconciliation, and I chose to sing the first part of my prayer in the form of a classic Vineyard tune by Carl Tuttle. I sang it acapella, not as a performance, but as a call to prayer, wanting to match the vulnerability of the words to the vulnerability I felt in singing in front of strangers with no accompaniment.

Oh Lord have mercy on us and heal us
Oh Lord have mercy on us and free us
Place our feet upon a rock
Place a new song in our hearts, in our hearts
Oh Lord, have mercy on us

Oh Lord may your love and your grace, protect us
Oh Lord may your ways and your truth, direct us
Place our feet upon a rock
Place a new song in our hearts, in our hearts
Oh Lord, have mercy on us.

I followed this by reading a prayer I had written:

Oh God, Creator of all. Have mercy on us.

We divide the things you have knit together. We lift one person above another. We argue and disagree and push each other away. Forgive us. We are petty and prideful and think too highly of ourselves.

Spirit of Jesus, come and show us the way forward. Teach us to lay down our lives for each other. Teach us to build up instead of tear down. We ask that you do the work we cannot do: transform and enlarge our hearts so that we can love, truly love, with the love of Jesus. 

Make us one as you are one: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Amen.

The meeting ended with the people in the hall enthusiastically singing 10,000 Reasons and Great are You Lord led by a small worship band which included musicians from two different churches. People were reluctant to leave the meeting, spending time introducing themselves to strangers, greeting old friends, munching cookies, and offering words of encouragement to all who had participated.

A group of us were hungry, so 11 of us from different churches capped off the evening by trekking through the snow and ice to Five Guys for burgers, fries, drinks, and convivial fellowship. It was a sweet time. Everyone I talked to said, we love this, praying and worshiping and hanging out with people from other churches. Yes, it is good and pleasant. It is like a sweet fragrant oil. It is like refreshing dew. It is an activity blessed by God.

See how good and pleasant it is
when brothers and sisters live together in harmony!

It is like fine, scented oil on the head,
running down the beard—down Aaron’s beard—
running over the collar of his robes.
It is like dew on Mount Hermon,
dew which comes down on Zion’s mountains.
That is where the Lord promised the blessing of eternal life.
(Psalm 133, God's Word Translation)


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

the songs we sing

NOTE: I am going to make some pretty strong statements below, but understand that it is my way of taking an honest, hard look at my own worship experience and practice. My desire is not to be overly critical, but to open up dialogue by questioning things I have assumed were totally fine and appropriate. In other words, I am preaching to myself. Feel free to listen in.

---------------------

When I am in a church meeting during the singing time, I sometimes find myself silent, unable to get the words past my lips. At times I just need a moment of stillness, time to listen, but other times, the words make me pause because I don't know that I can sing them honestly or with integrity. This is a good thing. We should never mindlessly or heartlessly sing songs just because everyone else is. We should care deeply about what we say in our sung, communal worship.

At their best, songs sung by the gathered body of Christ call to life what is already in us: the hope, the truth, the longing, t…

theology from the margins: God of Hagar

Our contexts have major implications for how we live our lives and engage with our world, that much is obvious. However, we sometimes overlook how much they inform our concepts of God. For those of us occupying the central or dominant demographic in society, we often associate God with power and truth. As a result, our theology is characterized by confidence, certainty, and an expectation that others should be accommodating. For those of us living on the margins of society, our sense of belonging stranded in ambiguity, God is seen as an advocate for the powerless. Our theology leans more toward inclusivity, and we talk less about divine holiness and righteousness and more about a God who suffers. On the margins, the priority is merciful and just action, not correct beliefs. 
There are significant theological incongruences between Christians who occupy the mainstream segment of society and those who exist on the margins. The world of theology has been dominated by Western male thought…

the movement of humility

We live in a context of stratification where much of society is ordered into separate layers or castes. We are identified as upper class, middle class, or lower class. Our language reflects this up/down (superior/inferior) paradigm. We want to be at the top of the heap, climb the ladder of success, break through the glass ceiling, be king of the hill. This same kind of thinking seeps into our theology. When we talk about humility, we think mostly think in terms of lowering ourselves, willfully participating in downward mobility. This type of up/down language is certainly present in biblical texts (James 4:10 is one example), but I believe that the kind of humility we see in Jesus requires that we step outside of a strictly up/down paradigm. Instead of viewing humility as getting down low or stepping down a notch on the ladder of society, perhaps it is more helpful to think in terms of proximity and movement.

Jesuit theologian, James Keenan, notes that virtues and vices are not really…