Pandemic Prayers for Epiphany 5

The other night I read such encouraging words from the editors of the New York Times reminding us again that we shouldn’t get caught up in the ineffectiveness of the vaccine. It’s not even infections that scientists are worried about with such things, but their focus is on the tally of deaths and hospitalizations. Those are low — nearly nothing actually. This is good news.

They used that phrase. They reminded me to believe in good news. Granted, it’s not the good news that we preach exactly but it is the promise of life. Still, I’m weary.

I’m not sure if I trust this good news. I want to but I hear the nagging questions in Isaiah and I know that I’m not there yet. Maybe you are. I hope so. Still, these are prayers for the frustrated.

Prayer of Invocation 
Inspired by Isaiah 40:21-31

Come close, O God.
Come to lift up our eyes
so that we can see
the wonder of your creation
because clearly 
we haven't looked.

We haven't dared to look, O God, 
because we are so worried 
about the future. We are so tired 
of this present moment but 
it's impossible for us to believe 
that there will be anything else 
but this. We know. 

We know. 
O God, we know.

You ask us what we
have known and 
what we have seen.
You ask for our attention
and our willingness
to dream. O God, come
because it feels 
like a dream 
just to remember 
what you made.
We are too afraid
to really look.

Lift up our eyes
and call us by name
so that we can remember
what power feels like 
in our exhaustion. 
We are tired of waiting
but we need your understanding
so come. Come into our worship  
and renew our strength.
Come close, O God.

This second prayer was actually written for my little Texas church originally. They were — at that point and still are — doing the hard transition work of interim ministry between settled pastors. I offer it here without any adaptations because I just like it.

Prayer for those Weary in Transition 
 We come tired, weary and worn. 
 We have already done so much work, so much heavy lifting. 
 We long to hear assurances or maybe even “a job well done,”
 but instead we are invited again to roll up our sleeves. 
 We must haul out the boats and put in another hour, maybe two. 
 There is more to be done. There is always more to be done.
 We wade together into the deep water, dragging the boat out of the sand,
 wondering what could change. What will one more hour do?
 We let down our nets, just as we are told. 
 We wait for what will catch us. O Holy One, catch our tired bodies today.  

That’s all I’ve got for you this week, dear pastors. I am praying for you. I am praying for you, as always.