the Third Friday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
When Our Words Fall Silent: An Advent Prayer using Psalm 80 for the New Year Of 2022
The past few months have been a particular season of stillness and readiness in Advent for my wife Bonnie and I. This has been one of the hardest years I can remember, encompassing family losses, pandemic social collapse and isolation, health failures, and surgery. I was badly injured in June, as I tore muscles, tendons, and ligaments in my left shoulder cuff after years of use while in a wheelchair due to a spinal cord injury in 1994. My wife and I missed my father-in-law’s funeral and burial the first long weekend of September, because I was still in medical care. Near the end of September, my mother-in-law also passed away unexpectedly; she was buried next to her husband a week later in early October, again in our absence because I underwent surgery the same weekend. Currently, I continue to wait in hospital while my shoulder recovers from reconstructive surgery. The healing process seems eternally long and costly in terms of precious time. While I had been experiencing paralysis in my legs, now it is also temporarily affecting my arms and hands. The feeling of emotional, physical, and spiritual failure has been acute. And if I’m being totally honest… my prayer life has fallen rather silent, not from a lack of desire to pray, but from a sheer loss of words for my Father.
Growing up in the High Anglican Church, I used to think liturgy and prayer hymnals lacked a certain spiritual sensitivity. However, over this past year they have revealed something far more in-depth within them in my current state. When our own spirit falls silent, the faithful words of our past saints that we just might find comfort and even discernment, as we feebly stammer through their texts amidst the grunts and groans of our own vulnerability. At least, this has been the case for me as they draw me closer to my Lord, while I long for renewal in the coming new year.
In that spirit, I’d like to invite you to join me in my prayer using Psalm 80 as my guide.
Give ear, O Shepherd of Israel,
you who lead Joseph like a flock!
I am but a simple being, Lord, and can go nowhere without you. Fear has drawn me to a standstill. I have lost my footing and do not know where to turn next. The shadow of death has cast itself thick within our world, and only your light can reveal a way forward.
Lead us, Father, as you have led so many before us! Fill us with courage, knowing that you go before us and that your path knows no end. Let your glory reveal to us a commune of refuge among those who journey with us on this narrow path of life.
You who are enthroned upon the cherubim, shine forth
before Ephraim and Benjamin and Manasseh.
Let your glory overflow on your creation with a floodlight of goodness, compassion, healing, and restoration to creation’s being since the dawn of time. May your words sooth nature’s ears; may your hands mend broken spirits; may your heart redeem and reunite families, friends, and communities. And let your feet rest again upon your people’s worship and praise in all places.
Stir up your might,
and come to save us!
We long for your great work of salvation, Lord! Pandemics of disease and social unrest have ravaged themselves upon this earth, striking down our sense of well-being and our abilities to provide for our families, while isolating us in prisons of lies and self-torment and the loneliness of an untouchably distant world.
We have fallen prey to the false understanding and selfishness of personal rights over the love and care of our neighbours. Our ignorance has dampened our empathy and obscured the true value of human life as we sacrifice the other on idolatrous altars we call acceptable loss and for the good of herd immunity.
What does it mean to be human, Father? Do not let us fall upon our own sword, Jesus! Save us and make us new! Mark us with your cross of salvation; draw the blood of the lamb out of us so that it overflows into this world like a mighty river, sweeping away the weights and polarities of injustice!
Restore us, O God;
let your face shine, that we may be saved.
I am reminded, Lord, of the Sufi contemplative verse, “I saw the Lord’s figure drawing close to me in a thick mist. Crying out, I said, ‘Who are you?’ He answered back, ‘You!’”
Remake us into your image, Lord, that we might reflect your light as incarnated beings of holiness. Let us look upon our neighbours with all their rich diversities of culture, ethnicity, religion, sexuality, politics and colour and see your face, Jesus, and may they also look back at us with brotherly and sisterly love.
O Lord God of hosts,
how long will you be angry with your people’s prayers?
You have fed them with the bread of tears,
and given them tears to drink in full measure.
I have cried out to you for what seems like eternity, Father, and it feels as though my prayers have fallen on deaf ears. The worry and strain of being separated from my wife - while her health continues to deteriorate as she too cries out from the chronic pain of her body not responding to treatment - is too great a weight for us both to bear. Repeated words… the anguish of deafening silence. Can you hear me, God?
I acknowledge so many blessings during this time of difficulty. Our community has rallied around us, brought food, cleaned laundry, and travelled far to visit in person. We have received letters of encouragement, and been prayed for by name. We are so grateful–but it is so slow to hear and see your response. Am I being petty? Should we not ask for miracles in the midst of chronic pain? Must we simply accept loss and the hardships of life, rather than believe that you will grant complete healing through your mighty works? When will our house be filled with the joy of community again while worshiping your great name?
We are told you are a loving God, and yet I am at a loss as to what seems like your continuing waves of angry silence and solitude. What are we to do with these emotions, Jesus? How are we to respond? Should our questions and demands cease? Or must we, like Job, continue endlessly to plead our case while weeping?
Reveal your answers to our pleas, Father! Make known your presence!
You make us the scorn of our neighbours;
our enemies laugh among themselves.
Lord, our families and communities have been torn apart, with brother against brother, sister against sister, “us” against “them.” My heart breaks as I watch images of protestors outside hospitals, while dying patients stand and watch them from the window. Health care workers are abused verbally and physically, while misguided activists angrily violate pandemic health measures. Lies fill our social media feeds, confusing and confounding many, and resulting in life-threatening illness for some.
Reveal your truths to us, Lord. Allow us to see the errors of our ways and have the courage to repent from our selfish actions. Let us work as peacemakers as we seek to rebuild and heal our society, while tearing down walls of division. Your Word speaks to us: “For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another. For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.’ If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another.” (Galatians 5:13–15 NRSV)
Restore us, O God of hosts;
let your face shine, that we may be saved.
Father, we lift these cries up to you, trusting that you hear our emphatic pleas for restoration and healing. We desire for this year ahead to be one of great newness, filled with the breath of life that only you can breathe upon us.
In the words of the Celtic forefathers…
“As the sun rises, Lord, let your light shine on me. Destroy the darkness about me. Scatter the darkness before me. Disperse the darkness behind me. Dispel the darkness within me. Let your light shine on me… As the sun rises, Lord, let your light shine on me. The warmth of your Presence. The brightness of your love. The radiance of your joy. The shining of your hope. Let your light shine on me… As the sun rises, Lord, let your light shine on me. Your light to guide. Your light to lead. Your light to direct. Your light to brighten. Let your light shine on me.”[1]
Amen.
Thank you for reading the New Leaf Advent Reader, a collection of reflections from writers across Canada. If you are enjoying the reader, sign up to receive the readings in your inbox each day here: SIGN UP
And please share this reflection with your friends and family who might also enjoy it.
