Praying with People in the Crowd

Now when Jesus returned, the crowd welcomed him, for they were all waiting for him. And there came a man named Jairus, who was a ruler of the synagogue. And falling at Jesus' feet, he implored him to come to his house,  for he had an only daughter, about twelve years of age, and she was dying.

 There was a woman who had had a discharge of blood for twelve years, and though she had spent all her living on physicians, she could not be healed by anyone. She came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, and immediately her discharge of blood ceased. And Jesus said, “Who was it that touched me?” When all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!”  But Jesus said, “Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.”  And when the woman saw that she was not hidden, she came trembling, and falling down before him declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace.”

While he was still speaking, someone from the ruler's house came and said, “Your daughter is dead; do not trouble the Teacher any more.” But Jesus on hearing this answered him, “Do not fear; only believe, and she will be well.” And when he came to the house, he allowed no one to enter with him, except Peter and John and James, and the father and mother of the child. And all were weeping and mourning for her, but he said, “Do not weep, for she is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead. But taking her by the hand he called, saying, “Child, arise.” And her spirit returned, and she got up at once. And he directed that something should be given her to eat. And her parents were amazed, but he charged them to tell no one what had happened. From Luke Chapter 8

Words wear out some days. That’s why I’m thankful for music, dance, and visual art. I am thankful for friends whose humour color coordinates our complimentary burdens. This morning I am aching from an immune system flare up in my legs, and I am watching this video, over and over again, weeping for the choir stands and bands that made me who I am. I do not believe this is a time to complain about missing Easter. I believe it’s a time to see God’s gift of life no matter where we mark the day. We are in a long game of waiting, yet I truly expect it will pass. Which is to say that I expect a miracle. And it seems so backwards but there’s a boldness to my pain.

I feel bold enough to tell you this morning, that people we love very dearly might get sick , and they might die. I feel bold enough to tell you that I am a devoted daughter of the King of Life and Liberation, but for the life of me, my dear friends, I do not know why we suffer so, why our beloved sisters in St. Louis had to die.

I am reading Ecclesiastes, still reflecting with the wise preacher on the meaningful meaninglessness of this long journey. And I resonate with the movements of our sisters in today’s text. A baby girl threatened by illness, could she mark the hours while she slept? What determination filled her weakening lungs. What prayers Jesus heard even when her family had given up. And for our sister burdened with blood and social shame, every day of twelve years was a fight. She was tired but determined, running out of resources but full up on resilience. She would see Jesus. The Holy Spirit brought boldness to her pain.

For God’s children in Louisiana, in New York, Spain, Italy, China, Iran and more -  for Jasmine’s family and Judy’s family, the two Black women who lost their lives in the St. Louis region, it’s a long day every day. We expect the Spirit to bring boldness to our pain. Only a miracle can unclench this grief. Only love can banish hate, only light can drive out darkness. And whew … Listen Lord, we need it. We were on our faces last year about losses, trials and grief, but this here year right here!? I am rendered unable. Like I said, words wear out. 

This decade is behaving like a feral cat trapped in a dumpster fire on wheels. Let the Lord’s children expect a miracle, let us tarry for a troubling of the waters. Let the Lord’s children pray. Today we bring our passion, petition, and praise, to a God who is listening.

Passion

Lord we come to you this morning in need of tender mercies. We thank You for Your loving kindness is better than life. We are told that today is Wednesday, but this week has already been a very long year. All of us are stretching ourselves to touch the Great Healer: Your elderly beloved, Your children who are at work or on their way, Your children who care for the sick, Your children who are ill, Your children who are young, Your children who are tired. We are everyone in the crowd, and we are pressing in this morning.

 We remember our sister who struggled for twelve years, with no healers who could help her, no physicians who could solve her case. How her emotions must have fluctuated. Did hope sting over time? Was she adjusted to disappointments, frail in heart and mind? We come to you in the same silent desperation, joining our prayers with all Your children who must press through crowds of people. We are coming to You Emmanuel, the God who is with us; with all of the women in waiting, with fathers and families of little ones longing for Jesus to bid them rise. We are trembling and bleeding out, we ponder over your healing power. We long to hear from you, Lord of Life, and we pray You are listening.

Petition

Listen Lord: we ask You to show Yourself strong. Rise up against the wickedness of this world. Rebuke the chaos that meets us in our waking hours. March before us in the wilderness of our lives. When we are wearied by famine and disease, shower us with abundance and healing.  When we are burdened by loss, remind us that you are a parent to the parentless and a defender of those in need. Guard us against depression, isolation, and hopelessness. 

And Listen Lord, when You do rise up - we say “when”  because we see that You have already and we know that You will -

But when You do rise to meet us, dear Lord, we’d ask, if You please, do Your celestial work with and through us too.  Use us, Holy Ghost, right now Lord, to reassure the lonely ones who can hardly rise from their beds. Jesus, take the wheel for teamsters, delivery drivers, bus drivers and ride-share workers, be a shield of defense for mail carriers, bankers and grocers. And give the words of life that we might testify to each other. Holy Spirit, descend on dialysis clinics, urgent-care, daycare and healthcare providers. Sanctify their cleaning protocols as holy work, sacred work, God’s work. Lift their spirits. Incline the people who depend on them to share tokens of glad acknowledgment.

We plead the motion of Your mighty arm, to lift and fill these Your willing vessels, empty pitchers to a full fountain. Lord God, pour into our lives patience, peace, and joy. Give us fellowship, bind us together in braided chords of Creed and Eucharist, homily and hymn. Speak to us the words that will give us life. We are listening.

Praise

Listen Lord, we hate it here. But if You are with us, what shall we fear? Will you break our bitterness with Your wisdom? Will You give us ears to hear? Send us a hunger and thirst for more time - but is it times like these? - to listen to You. 

We know that you have breathed into each of us both life and purpose. That we are here is Your witness that we are worth it. You will not forget your children. You will not abandon us - even to ourselves! So we move toward you. We make our way to you in the pressing crowds of solitude, mourning, helplessness and incompetence. We reach out and stretch our feeble faith, to draw Your healing power. 

We stretch our feeble faith towards your testimony of creation: We praise You God that we are fearfully and wonderfully made! We give thanks for stories of recovery, and for millions of Your children showing empathy by heeding the call to health and safety.

We stretch our feeble faith towards your testimony of salvation: We praise you Lord for the end of death row in Colorado. We thank you for the ministers of music, mercy, wisdom and encouragement who have truly saved us from despair in these days.

We stretch our feeble faith towards your testimony of authority: We praise you Lord for the public servants who are striving to diligently represent their people. We ask you to bless the minds of leaders who refuse to heed wisdom. We praise you for the decent mayors, empathetic governors and dedicated senators you’ve spread throughout this land. We ask that their health and success would increase.

We reach out, O God, with no merit of our own, to touch Your garment’s hem for hope, and we dare to believe this morning, that You will answer our feeble faith, and make us whole. 

Scriptures: Psalm 68, Luke 8

Sacred Songs: Is My Living in Vain? The Clark Sisters // Show Yourself Strong, Fred Hammond

Images: Busy Day, Charles Nkomo // The people could fly, folk art images // Food for Thought, Leroy Campbell