Listen Lord: We Hate it Here - Day Three
Prayers from God’s children in need of special considerations and medical care
The Preacher in Ecclesiastes wrote- there is a season for everything. I wonder - as he did - that “all things are full of weariness, how can a person describe it?.” Yet somehow we are able to reach out and hope for joy. Luke 17:11-19 tells the story of 10 people struggling with the disease of leprosy and their encounter with Jesus. Similar to modern medical stipulations around highly communicable diseases, they were quarantined in a cave near a local village. Perhaps under recent events we can better appreciate the type of disruption this may have caused to their lives--lapses in work, separation from dear ones, isolation from social networks and little known chances of receiving medical care. “Testing positive” in this context meant living with the very real possibility of death and the inescapable certainty of fear.
Yet they displayed boldness, they called out to Jesus - standing afar off- and lifted up their voices to see if the healer would stop by. Some call this an act of great faith, some might think “what did they have to lose?.” The wisdom of Ecclesiastes, the Bible’s emo-autobiography attributed to Solomon, would shrink the distance between those two. When we apply our hearts to know wisdom, we see just how much we can never find out, never discover, no matter how we search. This does not make our toiling in vain, but it directs us to apply purpose.
Our prayers this morning speak freedom from a sinister vanity of this age, the vanity of “perfect” bodies. Vanity says physicians and health providers must bear all the weight without experiencing emotion, that God’s beloved children with special needs and varied abilities are less considered because they are not “normal”. Vanity preaches care for the sick, but quarantines advocacy and distances from financial compassion. Vanity lives in a house or an apartment, has great piles of clothes and cans to share, but names no unhoused neighbors as friends or God’s child.
Can it be said about this vanity “Oh look, this is something new!”? Of course not. Which is why godly love in the midst of isolation should lead us to connect by any means necessary with the people who are set furthest into the landscape. More than a few theologians would argue, that’s the only place we’ll find Jesus. Let’s seek the Lord together.
Lord we come to you this morning, eyes dry and hearts rent. We are already weary of the days we have not seen. We fellowship in solitude this morning, and join the prayers from God’s children in need of special considerations and medical care. O Lord open up a window in heaven, lean out over the battlements of glory, and listen.
Listen Lord: We are unhoused. We cannot shelter in place without shelter. We cannot practice social distance and keep our bodies warm. We’re told our presence is a weight on society, too much of a “public charge” for public servants to bear. We are invisible, undervalued, called unpretty and put at risk: and we hate it here.
Listen Lord: We are in need of medical care. Everyday we worry about how we will care for the bodies You wondrously made. We struggle against systems and bureaucracies that deny the dignity of our persons, that profit from our illness, and capitalize on our need for adequate care. We are over-billed and rarely healed. We yearn for wholeness, compassion, and justice, and so we hate it here.
Listen Lord: We work in hospitals and healthcare. We are watching people die alone. We turn people away and decide who receives the little rationed attention we have to give. We weep when our colleagues take ill. We distance our families for their own protection, while our courage melts in solitude. We are seen as everyone’s only hope, yet we too are in need of rescue. Our hearts are breaking, we feel powerless: and we hate it here.
Listen Lord: We are differently abled. We see our worth underemphasized and our uniqueness used against us. We are frequently called something other than beloved. People stare at us with contempt, but we too are made in Your image. At times, we are denied access to Your house. We cannot worship You in spirit and in truth if we must become something other than what you made us just to enter in. It sometimes seems that the whole world is ableist but the church is worse, so we hate it here.
O Lord we long to know your peace, we desire justice. We would plead our cause before you and ask that you stretch out your mighty hand. Send hope into our hellish days. Soothe our sorrows in the embrace of your bosom. Stop by our waiting rooms, bring to us Your omniscient bedside manner. Sit beside us, if you would, Lord God, and listen. And we ask you again, this morning, O Lord, that You’d teach us to listen too.
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Scripture: Luke 17.11-17
Stories of the Saints: Mary Davidson Kenner - Inventor of the Sanitary Belt, lived with Multiple Sclerosis
Sacred Songs:
Healing, Richard Smallwood
Balm in Gilead, Spiritual
Hear My Call, Jill Scott
Images: Ebony Patterson’s A View Out, and They were Beautiful Like the Moon // Prentiss Taylor’s Christ in Alabama