This is the second in a series of ten prayers that will make up A Prayer For The DR Congo. The “call” lines are from the Prayers Of The People from an Anglican Congolese Mass.
PRAYER TWO: May the fields yield abundantly; may the harvest be great.
To God, The Son: Psalm Of Light
Holy Light of God, our voices spread over the surface of the Earth; we announce to all the majesty of your radiance.
When I was a little girl, a wiggle of kittens found their way into our shed.
To each of us has your love been steadfast: to each who has an abundance to eat, and to each who slowly starves his way to death.
They looked normal. They seemed normal.
To each of us you are bound by your devotion: to each who sleeps in the warmth and safety of his bed, and to each who lie under the branches of a tree in the black night of the forest.
But they weren’t normal.
Only you can pierce the bottomlessness of the dark.
At least not in the way I define, normal.
God, the Father, and God, the Holy Spirit, stand in harmony with you; the celestial throng, in its reach, scatters your rays.
I thought the solution a simple one:
Only you can pierce the bottomlessness of the dark in the Congo, Created of Light and Creator of Light.
Take care of them until they grow big enough to be given away.
We kneel before your grandeur, overwhelmed and humbled,
Where I lived, animals weren’t put down because people didn’t want them.
Whose holiness girds our souls with divine hope and eternal mercy.
At worst they would go to live with a clawing of cats, in the straw in a barn.
Out in the cold of fear, we search for your warmth. The gracious fervor of your compassion stills our trembling.
And spend their days frisking across the meadows.
The mighty shock of hatred rises up to meet you, eager to dim the gift of your magnificence; yet the force of your tenderness calms the disorder.
But this continual eruption of fur would not take anything from my hands. Not food. Not kindness.
Creation is united in your sovereignty; it is released from its bondage to chaos by your resplendence.
They didn’t eat the food I left for them overnight.
You bring together the opposing thrusts; you claim the joy that heralds your grace.
Today we have an entire country of frighteneds,
In your brilliance we can see the strength of truth;
Who would rather die, slow and cruelly or swift and brutally
The luminosity reveals the just nature of your love.
Than take what they need from an offering hand.
Restored are we who bask in your splendor;
The only way is through you, Compassionate One.
And soothed are we who rejoice in your glory.
Show them your comeliness, Beloved Brother,
The weak find strength in your fidelity,
Help them find their way
And you become Lord.
To your light.