Prayer & Praise
Here we are, practitioners of memos:
We send e-mail and we receive it,
We copy it and forward it and save it and delete it.
We write to move the data, and
organize the program,
and keep people informed –
and know how to control and manage.
We write and receive one-dimensional memos,
that are, at best, clear and unambiguous.
And then – in breathtaking ways –
you summon us to song.
You, by your very presence, call us to lyrical voice;
You, by your book, give us cadences of praise
that we sing and say, “allelu, allelu.”
You, by your hymnal, give us many voices
toward thanks and gratitude and amazement.
You, by your betraying absence,
call us to lament and protest and complaint.
All our songs are toward you
in praise, in thanks and in need.
We sing figure and image and parallel and metaphor.
We sing thickness according to our coded community.
We sing and draw close to each other, and to you.
Things become fresh.
But then the moment breaks
and we sing back into memos:
“How many pages?”
“When it is due?”
“Do you need footnotes?”
We are hopelessly memo kinds of people.
So we pray, by the power of your spirit,
give us some song-infused days,
deliver us from memo-dominated nights.
Give us different rhythm,
of dismay and promise,
of candor and hope,
of trusting and obeying.
Give us courage to withstand the world of memo
and to draw near to your craft of life
given in the wind.
We pray back to you the Word made flesh;
We pray, “Come soon.”
We say, “Amen.”