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That it may please thee to support, help, and comfort all who are in danger, necessity, and tribulation, we beseech thee to hear us, good Lord.
That it may please thee to have mercy upon all mankind, we beseech thee to hear us, good Lord.
From Rodger:
James 2: 14 – 26 (NRSV): 14 What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? 15 If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? 17 So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.
18 But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works. 19 You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder! 20 Do you want to be shown, you foolish person, that faith apart from works is useless? 21 Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered up his son Isaac on the altar? 22 You see that faith was active along with his works, and faith was completed by his works; 23 and the Scripture was fulfilled that says, “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness”—and he was called a friend of God. 24 You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone. 25 And in the same way was not also Rahab the prostitute justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out by another way? 26 For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead.
At some point, all liturgy – Thomas Cranmer’s Great Litany as well as any other written for any occasion by any person in any place or time – will fail to fully address the world around us and our call to be a force for good (the Gospel) in that world. I couldn’t help but think about this reality as I read the stanza above. Should we call upon God to “be pleased to support, help, and comfort all who are in danger, necessity, and tribulation?” Of course we should! That part of a vibrant and faithful prayer life should be assumed without exception. Do we pray for God’s mercy on all humankind? If we can’t figure out a way to shoehorn a thought like that into our lives of discipleship, then maybe we are fooling ourselves about how serious we are about this Christianity thing. All well and good… so far.
But I can’t shake a level of discomfort in Cranmer’s words here. The overt lack of the “next part” in prayers like this bothers me – perhaps more than I can adequately describe. And that “next part?” It’s what James chapter 2 is getting at. It’s what Matthew chapter 25 is all about.
Matthew 25: 31 – 40 (The Final Judgment):
31 “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. 32 Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. 34 Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? 38 And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? 39 And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ 40 And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’
What I’m getting at is the implied – but not clearly stated – notion that we are called to be an active part of this very thing. Asking God to be pleased to show mercy, offer comfort, support and help those in need, danger, tribulation, etc. but not also – almost within the same breath – asking “Lord, what should I / We / All of us do to be a part of this? That clearly seems to be exactly what James’ rhetorical question about faith without works is leading to. I sense a danger here – one that far too many Christians succumb to – that we will pray for God to do all this for all those people, and then assume we’re done. We’ve done our “duty,” lifted up the downtrodden, asked for divine guidance and intervention in the lives of the needy, etc. Then dust off our hands, consider it a good day at the office, and head to the kitchen to pour a highball and think how we did such a good job as faithful disciples in this particular day.
This afternoon, I ducked off the interstate near downtown Charlotte to avoid a massive traffic backup due to the latest crash of idiotic motorists who refuse to understand that our local roads are NOT the Charlotte Motor Speedway and our daily commute is not the Daytona 500. I ended up on west Morehead street in one of the sections between gentrification that hasn’t “made it” yet. I happened to glance over at a city bus stop shelter to see a young woman, obviously homeless, sitting on the concrete and resting her head on the bus shelter bench. All her possessions were either strewn on the sidewalk around her or bunched up in a shopping cart she had her leg stuck through – apparently to do what she could to secure her possessions while perhaps catching a bit of sleep. Before I really took the sight in, traffic had moved on by and I was carried up to the stoplight. Waiting on the red light, I took out my wallet to see if I had any bills to perhaps offer her. In it was a single $20 bill. I drove around the block and as I was pulling into a parking lot near that bus stop I happened to notice how dark and threatening the clouds looked to the southwest; apparently more rain was on the way just like the forecast called for.
I rummaged around in the back seat and foot and found my black Columbia rain jacket, and grabbed it as I got out and walked back to the bus stop. I started the woman as I approached, and quickly said, “It’s OK; I had a bill in my wallet and thought it would help with some dinner.” As she took the twenty from me, I also asked her, “Have you got a rain jacket?” She shook her head no, so I handed over my Columbia parka. “It may be a little large, but it does a good job keeping the rain off,” I said. She took it, and never said a word, but nodded her head in a silent, and obviously exhausted, gesture of thanks.
It’s not the first time I’ve grabbed a jacket or coat from the back seat and handed it out the window at a stoplight, or offered it at a bus stop. But this isn’t about me – what a shining example of good works I am. Please do not hear this as me making a public gesture where I’m breaking my arm patting myself on the back. It’s simply a reminder of what I think is clearly implied – but not clearly stated – in the stanza of the Great Litany above. Do we pray that God will bless others? Support those in need? Comfort and protect those who need it? Of COURSE WE DO. We just better never allow our discipleship to end there. We’d better say that prayer ready to say “Amen” and then get off our asses and do something to be a active part of that prayer.
I’ve decided I’m no longer into the “Repent” cliche’ like I saw on so many rural Georgia signs and billboards this past week. My new mantra is something along the lines of this:
