A Prayer for the End of Lent
By Cole Arthur Riley of Black Liturgies
God of Sorrows,
We cry holy for a God who is moved to tears when met with the conditions of this world.
We are grateful that You are not a God who drags us out of our pain before we are ready— one who is not threatened by our tears but beholds them as holy.
This Lent, help us to make space for a faithful examination of injustice, death, and decay in this world.
We confess that we so often reduce salvation to the personal; let ours be a salvation tethered to the liberation of the world.
And so form us into people who truly see the world, in all of its beauty and depravity.
And when we find ourselves tempted to look away, steady us, that we may see with clarity our most desperate need for a Christ.
As we prepare for the memory of God hung from the cross, let us bear witness to all that requires it.
Oppression, famine, war, neglect, loss, exclusion, loneliness, grief
— all suspended by sin itself—
let us resolve to see and name it all.
That we would daily apprehend the breach between what we were created for and the distortion we see in the systems and powers of this world today.
Let us grieve the chasm.
And as we allow ourselves to weep with you,
let us hope with you in the coming restoration of all things.
Glory to the One who met the cross with tears on his face.
We look to You.
Amen.
Photo by Eyasu Etsub on Unsplash
This week has felt heavy with the news of children's lives lost (again), devastating tornados, challenging evictions, and persistent attacks on LGBTQIA+ & specifically Trans Lives (Again). With the end of Lent near, and Holy Week upon us, we remember that we live in a fractured world. One that has taken lives in the name of empire for generations before us.
Yet we are not left alone to let hate terrorize us.
As we prepare for Easter, may we remember the radical love that transformed the world again through Jesus.
And may we act on the revolutionary, inclusive love that continues to transform our hearts and communities to this day.
Blessings on Your Holy Week,
Emma
