By now, every thermometer I have has burst at temperatures over 130 degrees. The abbot of the monastery suggested I make a journey up to a cave in the mountains with an elderly monk as guide. We had to walk barefoot as we were walking on holy ground. Under my breath I muttered and grumbled. The monk was well aware of me, and as I began to listen to what he was murmuring, I discovered it was melodic. He was actually singing a song of praise for the wonder and beauty of the day as I was accursing!
You, neighbor God, when I disturb with heavy raps your quiet during a lonely night, it is because I rarely hear You breathe, though know: You're in your room alone. And while in need, there's no one there to bring your groping hand a drink. But I am listening. Just give me a sign. I am close by.
Eternal spirit of Justice and Love,
At this time of thanksgiving we would be aware
of our dependence on the earth and
on the sustaining presence of other human beings.
both living and gone before us.
As we partake of bread and wine,
may we remember that there are many
for whom sufficient bread is a luxury, or
for whom wine, when attainable,
is only an escape.
Let our thanksgiving for Life's bounty
include a commitment to changing the world,
that those who are now hungry may be filled,
and those without hope may be given courage.
