Practice

"Prayer...is obviously not a routine activity. It is a journey into life, the struggles and its glories." 

I am returning to the daily practice of reading a portion of St. Joan Chittister's The Rule of St. Benedict, Insights for the Ages. I plan on continuing this practice at least through Lent. I confess I have already peaked ahead to the February 16 reading, and I was so struck by these two sentences that I think they will guide me through Lent, and beyond. 

Certainly, we each have our own ways of praying. Yet, these prayer journeys are not just personal. They are also collective. The more aware we become of the universality of prayer, the more we can be nourished in the common ground of all creation. Let us listen and consciously join in. Perhaps then, we can sing with the flowers. 

   

So, what did I take away from the  reading of February 14?  Well, for one thing, a sense of being rerooted in the commitment of coming together every Sunday to worship, whether we worship in a church, temple, in a field, or on Zoom: 

"Sunday Lauds in the monastic liturgy is a soul-splitting commitment to go on. The point is that every life needs points along the way that enable us to rise about the petty daily problems, the overwhelming tragedies of our lives and begin again, whatever our circumstances, full of confidence, not because we know ourselves to be faithful, but because God is." 

  

God is. Amen.   

  

Love and Blessings on your journey, 

Rev. Sue Ann 

      

image: San Leandro, February, 2023 

Psalm 82

Given the recent events, not only in our nation but across the world, I have decided to include Psalm 82 in its entirety. The title of Lynn C. Bauman's translations seems appropriate for this Psalm. The cries for wisdom, justice, and compassion are indeed ancient songs sung anew.    

 

God comes as judge of all to heaven's court,

and stands among the counselors of eternity; 

Now listen to the verdict as God speaks:

"How long will all your judgments be unjust? 

How long will all the advantage go 

to those most powerful and corrupt?" 

Hear this, I say: "Save lowly ones, rescue orphans, 

defend the humble and all the destitute of earth. 

Reach out to liberate the weak and poor, 

deliver them before they fall as evil's prey. 

You do not know, nor do you understand, 

you grope so blindly in the dark

while all around your world is torn from limb to limb. 

Hear this and listen carefully to what I'm about to say, 

You yourselves are gods, 

all of you are born from deity. 

However, I have made you live and die as mortal beings, 

but live and die as kings and queens, I say, 

who rise and wisely rule the earth, 

for it is yours to govern as you will."   

  

Psalm 82

Ancient Songs Sung Anew 

Lynn C. Bauman 

  

Psalm 79

Psalm 79 is a psalm that cries for revenge, and as I ponder today's social and political landscape, I am saddened that collectively we humans still hunger and hunt for retaliation.  The psalm begins with a lament, and Nan C. Merrill's rendition begins beautifully: 

O Merciful Presence, 

the ignorant seem 

unrestrained in the world; 

they defile the Holy Temple, 

your dwelling place within; 

they leave those weaker 

than themselves in ruins.    

   

Psalm 79 in the Spiritual Formation Bible includes this reassuring note: "God's compassion can reach into our past." Our past does not have to remain a rusted junkyard of hoarded landmines.  As I write this, I hear geese flying over our rooftop, calling to one another to stay together and journey further on.  We, too, have an expansive frontier before us. Let us release what needs to be released and go into that great love.   

Let the cries of the victims of injustice 

come before You; 

according to Your great Power, 

break the bonds of oppression. 

Let all that has been garnered through greed

be returned in full measure 

with open hands. 

Then we your people, 

those who would companion with You, 

will give thanks to You forever; 

from generation to generation 

we will abandon ourselves into your hands

with grace-filled, open hearts.     

  

Psalm 79, abridged

Psalms for Praying, Nan C. Merrill     

Psalm 78

Because of the flu, most of the communities I serve are quiet now, so I was not surprised to see only a couple of people in the dining/activity room.  The pianist could not be with us, so I simply walked over to their table and asked if I could join them. 

I was grateful to see the good pastor. He is a gentle African American man with bright brown eyes, a quick smile, and a welcoming demeanor. Because he is one who on one day was active in ministry, and the next found himself laid low with a stroke, I really can't call him retired. He missed that stage. 

 

"What good word have you brought us today?"  I told him I had been pondering John 12:24, the reminder that seed that must fall to the earth in order to bear good fruit.   

  

"Yes, yes, so important to remember." We then discussed that scary word surrender.  Several other residents walked in and joined us at the table. The good pastor continued to talk, and I saw glimpses of the preacher he once was, and a view of the faithful servant he still is. He talked of people unwilling to age, unwilling to let God work in their lives, unwilling to be weak.  He waved his one more or less mobile arm and said he saw it in the church and he certainly sees it where he lives now.  The others listened, nodded their heads, and murmured their agreement. Each spoke of the difficulty of finding themselves at this stage of being, but not being with others who wanted only to go their own way. This lament is not unusual.   

Eventually the good pastor grew weary and we closed, but I have no question that a fine meeting was held that day. Really what each spoke of was loneliness, of being separated from their imperfect churches, but in that time together, they were gathered in and one among them spoke his truth. They were part of the whole that is Christ, and I was grateful to be in the congregation. 

    

   

Listen carefully, my people, 

play close attention all who belong to me, 

For I am about to speak as teacher, 

explaining mysteries of old. 

I will teach you using parables, 

drawn from ancient times. 

I will teach you many lessons 

you must know. 

And what you learn and come to hear 

speak it to your children, 

So generations yet unborn 

will know God's works and ways, 

How God taught ancient Jacob 

and Israel knowledge of the Law; 

how it became a pathway, 

a teaching meant for all.   

 

Psalm 78: 1-5  

Ancient Songs Sung Anew, 

Lynn C. Bauman     

   

​​

Truly,  I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

​

John 12:24​ 

 

A Blessing for 2018

"We should understand where the limits of human reason lie; there is much above and beyond these limits that can only be grasped by faith. And that becomes possible for the person who lets all that is human become silent in order to stand before the divine in adoration, reverence, and awe."    

 

Annemarie Wächter  

      

     

Psalm 76

"At last we saw God's glory;

how beautiful you are, 

Your majesty like mountains

rising to the sky."  

 

Psalm 76:4 

Ancient Songs Sung Anew, 

Lynn C. Baumann 

    

 

Psalm 75

If St. Benedict and his monks did indeed make their way through the entire Psalter every week, I think he might be rather unimpressed that I am just now reaching the half-way mark.  Nonetheless, here we are!   

 

I have learned that Psalm 75 is actually a song of justice to be read as call and response. Even with all my personal shortcomings, I do at times take refuge in the image of God as judge. I find it gives me patience.     

 

More singing and less boasting.  People raising their heads instead of hiding in the shadows.  Less boasting means less fear. Worth remembering as we try to discern the truth of our times. 

  

It is to you, O God, we give our thanks and offer up our praise. 

We speak of all you are and do, 

and call out in your name.

 

God answers back, and says, 'A time is coming to this world

when I shall be the judge, 

and I shall take what is and align it to the good. 

And though the leaders, and their lands be full of fear and dread, 

I will make its pillars sure and deep, and its foundations firm. 

To those who boast, I'll say, close up your mouths 

and boast no more, 

quit your staggering pride and bend your heads.' 

 

For justice comes and will be done on earth from East to West, 

and not a little here or something there, 

but everyone the same, in full. 

 

So I will sing this song in praise, 

to the judge high over all, 

For the necks of those that will not bend in pride will break, 

but those who walk the path of right-relatedness, 

will lift their joyous heads.      

  

Psalm 75, Psalms for Praying, abridged 

Lynn C. Bauman

   

Psalm 74

Come, O Beloved, counsel me with love; 

In your mercy, direct me once again 

before fear destroys me and 

leads me far astray. 

O Companioning Presence, 

make your home in my heart.      

  

Psalm 74, Psalms for Praying, Nan C. Merrill    

   

Psalm 72

This morning I have apples stewing on the stove. Last night I cooked an old-fashioned stew of potatoes and green beans. I added some matzo balls just because I love them.  I do love cooking in the fall and winter, and lately, I have been able to return to a prayer that deeply feeds my life; the prayer of baking a little something on Sunday to take to church. When I can do that regularly, my rhythm in the kitchen changes. When my rhythm in the kitchen changes, so does my life.  

 

Psalm 72 is a psalm for a king. While I certainly do not see the one who was elected as a "Messiah-King", I can pray this psalm for him. 

  

Lord, give a deep-felt sense of justice to the Messiah-King, 

an awareness of the sustaining balances of the the world. 

And this I pray so the people will be ruled on earth with equity, 

and all the poor will no longer suffer pain. 

I pray that from the mountain tops to the foundations of the earth 

prosperity will come to peoples everywhere, 

and from the foothills there shall flow a source of peace.

And may his acts defend the desperate, needy ones, 

and crushing out oppression, rescue all the poor. 

May it never be the mighty ones whom he hears first, 

but the poor and needy of the earth. 

All helpless ones and those alone, 

and all who cry in desperation and are oppressed, 

May he truly care for lowly ones 

and hold the life of each one dear. 

May he take those broken 

by our violence and make them new again.

And may all the blood that's ever shed 

in waste become for him a hallowed thing, 

and every life deemed precious and a sacred good.    

 

Psalm 72, abridged 

Ancient Songs Sung Anew 

Lynn C. Bauman   

 

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving week is one of my favorite weeks of the year.  I have beautiful memories of Thanksgiving when I was a child, and I love to be in the kitchen simply cooking and remembering the laughter and the good food brought forth by my mother and her best friend.  Some years Tyler and I can spend Thanksgiving with friends who live several states away. In those years, my friend and I cook and laugh together.  That is a time I truly treasure.    

  

May you spend Thanksgiving in a way that allows you to pray and give thanks for the blessings of this life.  In The Rule of Benedict, Joan Chittister writes, "There is nothing more important in our own list of important things to do in life than to stop at regular times, in regular ways to remember what life is really about, where it came from, why we have it, what we are to do with it, and for whom we are to live it."  

   

Blessings on it all. May we all have a slow Thanksgiving, one that we can deeply savor and enjoy.   

  

Love, 

Sue Ann     

  

Psalm 70

A few days ago, I sat and prayed with an older African-American man I met last month. Both times I have found him sitting quietly in his room. He does seem to be a little mystified about this woman pastor who has suddenly appeared in his life, and it took him several tries to get comfortable pronouncing my name. Yet, to sit with him is like resting next to an old tree. He is a deacon of his church, and wants to return to that role, but he has lost his eyesight. He tells me he "can't see a thing." However, above all, he trusts Jesus and that absolute trust is no doubt the source of his patience. After I prayed for him, he lifted a prayer for me, and it left me with a sense that he and Jesus are quite close. "Lord Jesus, watch over this white woman pastor named Sue Ann and bless her in her work..." I had to smile as we have certainly never talked about my being white.  Regardless, Lord Jesus, I must ask the same and I thank you for bringing this good deacon into my life. May he always find his strength in you.  

  

But those who seek for you 

let them be glad, 

as you restore their loss, 

and give them back their joy. 

    

Psalm 70:4

Ancient Songs Sung Anew 

Lynn C. Bauman   

Ora et Labora

Earlier this week I visited an older skilled nursing community.  The noise level is high here, and I always wonder how anyone can heal in the midst of such noise. The mental and physical health of the patients and residents varies greatly. Some are there for the rest of their lives and are quite frail; others are in rehab, and while their physical health has been impacted greatly, their stay is generally short-term.  Sometimes when I step into the activity room, I feel I am being tossed into a giant mixing bowl. Yet, the staff is remarkably stable, and we are always greeted as returning family. We find our way through the tables and the wheel chairs, and make some space for God.   

As I walked down the hall this week, I passed by the cramped administration and admitting offices, the kitchen, and the rehab area.  I have walked down that hall for over nine years, saying hello as I dodge mops, brooms, carts, and pails. Yet, this week it struck me that people were praying. They might not be aware of it, but as they perused emails, checked records, mopped the floor, or encouraged a wobbly elder to take just a few steps more, that is what they were doing. My paced slowed, and I let the silence in - the Silence that that is always there but seldom heard, and I joined my prayers to theirs, just as I am this morning.  

  

All work can be prayer, but in the crush of our busyness and distractions, we forget that Christ is at the heart of our work when we allow our work to connect us to others. St. Benedict knew this. Mother Teresa knew this (even the orphaned children she cared for would be assigned a regular task to do for the community). May we know it as well. Human beings cannot flourish until we recognize that we do not work, nor do we live, just for ourselves.      

Benedictine life is immersed in the sanctity of the real and work is a fundamental part of it. The function of the spiritual life is not to escape into the next world; it is to live well in this one. The monastic engages in creative work as a way to be responsible for the upbuilding of the community...Work and prayer are opposite sides of the great coin of life that is both holy and useful, immersed in God and dedicated to the transcendent in the human.  It is labor's transfiguration of the commonplace, the transformation of the ordinary that makes co-creators of us all.

The Rule of Benedict, Joan Chittister, O.S.B., 
page 132    

  

 ora et labora  pray and work 

  

Psalm 69

Psalm 69, like many of the psalms, begins with anguish and even a sense of drowning. However, also like many of the psalms, the psalmist works his way through his despair, the "miry clay", to a renewed sense of God's unwavering presence.  This makes for rich fodder for us  in our own trials, when we feel we have nothing but tears and worry to offer God. Eventually we can return to offering praise, but we first must reach that deep well. That can seem to be an arduous journey, but is a journey we must undertake.    

  

And all afflicted ones in life will hear my song and finding strength, 

will seek you, God, with all their hearts and live. 

For your own ears are always tuned and turned to needy ones. 

You never spurn or cast away those bound in chains, 

So let everything in heaven and on earth offer up their praise, 

let every living creature both on land or sea. 

For God restores the people and rebuilds their walls, 

their land is freely given back in full.  

And even children of the lowly ones who trust your name, 

find lodging safe and home secure at last in you. 

​  

Psalm 34-38

Ancient Songs Sung Anew, Lynn C. Bauman​    

   

Praise is about celebration.  Certainly the news today is deeply serious and disturbing, and there are times when we must mourn and acknowledge our sorrows and our fears. That acknowledgement is the beginning of a psalm. However, we must also give ourselves time off from our dismay.  In a book of essays entitled, "Called to Community, the Life Jesus Wants for His People", Richard J. Foster writes of the need for celebration:

  

Far and away the most important benefit of celebration is that it saves us from taking ourselves too seriously. This is desperately needed grace...It is an occupational hazard of devout folk to become stuffy bores. This should not be. Of all people, we should be the most free, alive, interesting. Celebration adds a note of gaiety, festivity, hilarity to our lives. After all, Jesus rejoiced so fully in life that he was accused of being a winebibber and a glutton. Many of us lead such sour lives that we cannot possibly be accused of such things.      

   

​Dear friends, if you can, find something or someone to celebrate today.  If you cannot, keep reminding yourself that you are being held in a love that is beyond comprehension, and you will be able to excavate your joy again. Let us be easy on ourselves in this time and remember that our sorrow never has the last say - that last word belongs entirely to God, and God is love.        

Psalm 68

More from this intriguing translation by Lynn C. Bauman. May all who feel the pull of violence, learn that is not where their majesty lies.  They are so much more than their violence.  I love the images of all the people going to the temple singing.  Even with our differences we become one when we sing.    

 

And gathering all the tribes of earth, 

let blessings rise as if it were a song upon a flood, 

For it is you who are for us the everlasting fount of praise, 

your name as source of all we raise in song. 

And gathered there the least of all the peoples sing

and mingle with the greatest ones. 

Then summoning the power of God  

they grow in strength, 

And at the temple in the city of your peace, 

they bring their gifts 

and raise their voice in thankfulness...

Let everything be offered up in praise and prayer

from East and West and North and South their voices raised. 

O Rider of the powers of heaven and earth, 

send forth a voice, a mighty voice. 

Awaken us to majesty beyond all time. 

Restore us to our ancient strength again, 

So we may say, how great your deeds, O God, 

O Holy One who rides the heavens.   

 

Psalm 68: 26- 29,33-36   

 

Psalm 68

Lynnn C. Bauman writes that Psalm 68 is one of the more difficult psalms to translate, and certainly its 36 verses are for me not the easiest to read.  However, the poetry in Bauman's translation is captivating, and I may spend a few days here. 

 

Last night as I drove a short distance, I listened to part of Cynthia Bourgeault's instructional cd on chanting the psalms.  In it she presents various examples of chants, and even in those short, instructional snippets, I became engrossed in the language of the psalms. I heard the struggle, passion, and the boldness to believe and re-believe that God's love is there in the seemingly deserted places in all of us.I fell in love again with the human voice singing and crying its way to heaven. For a few minutes, there was no darkness to befuddle these bi-focaled eyes. There were no streetlights, headlights, and signs beckoning and informing. Another way was made known: nameless, eternal, and wide.    

Psalm 68

The Rider of the Heavens  

  

Rise up within our midst, O God, 

then everything else but you will vanish, 

our enemies disappearing from sight. 

Like smoke on wind, 

like wax before a burning blaze, 

evil itself will cease before the white light of your gaze. 

For everyone in right relationship to you 

is filled with overflowing joy, 

And music fills the space where you abide, 

and singing rises to your nameless name, 

O holy One who rides the heavens.        

 

Psalm 68:1-4     

  

Psalm 67

Oh God have mercy upon us 

and bless us with the light 

streaming from your face. 

And so that here on earth we know

and walk your ways, 

restore us back to health again. 

May every person, every creature 

become an instrument of praise to you, 

And may you be the song that makes us glad, 

and every nation sing with joy.

For your pure justice reigns and rules, 

guiding all with equal hand. 

May every creature, every person, then, 

be an instrument of praise, 

And earth itself abound with a fullness yet unknown, 

as you alone become "our God" for everyone. 

Your blessings fill us full, 

and cover us and earth with awe from edge to edge.   

  

Psalm 67, Ancient Songs Sung Anew 

Lynn C. Bauman    

  

Yesterday on my morning walk, I was lamenting how many front gardens in our neighborhood have been turned into rock and succulent gardens.  Most of them are nice, but this change does not bode well for pollinators or photographers.  You can then imagine how delighted I was to turn the corner and be greeted by these bold ones proclaiming God's presence in the morning light. 

   

  

Psalm 66, Continued

Lynn C. Bauman's translation of Psalm 66 reminds me that I can only come to God as I am. When we try to avoid such honesty, our prayers and our lives lack authenticity and our souls are restless.  This morning, I am grateful for the time to come into God's temple, which is my soul. 

​   

I have only recently learned that marigolds are often placed on the altars celebrating Dia de los Muertos in the belief that the souls are guided by the flower's bright color. I know color often beckons me to God's temple. I have never believed I am simply photographing flowers.      

  

"So now I enter your abode, my God, 

and offer you this burning gift. 

I pray the vows that I have made, 

and speak to you in my despair. 

I'll give you the best of everything I am and have, 

leave nothing out in all its plenitude; 

So come and listen as I declare 

all that God has done for me. 

For when I cried my grief and pain, 

I spoke out using human words, 

I could not hide the darkest things, 

or God would never heed my prayer. 

Yes, it is God who heard and answered back, 

who listened deeply to my call. 

So blessed be the name of God, 

who does not withhold great love from us

or turn aside our prayers."  

  

Psalm 66:12-18 

Ancient Songs Sung Anew 

Lynn C. Bauman    

    

  

Psalm 66

A prayer for those who have seen fire and water.  We will sing for those who cannot yet lift their voice, for those whose offerings have burned. Together, we remember that God's love endures.    

"Cry out with joy to God, all the earth, 

O sing to the glory of God's name. 

O render glorious praise. 

Say to God, 'How awesome your deeds!' 

We went through fire and through water, 

but then you brought us to a place of plenty.

I will offer you burnt offerings...

Come and hear, all who fear God; 

I will tell you what God has done for my soul. 

Blest be God, who did not reject my prayer, 

nor withhold from me faithful love." 

    

   

  

 

Psalm 66, abridged 

The Ecumenical Grail Psalter