Eternal One, we spend our lives in forgetfulness—rushing to be places, rushing to be at work, rushing to be home, rushing, even, to be at church. Sometimes we forget to simply be.
Tomorrow is Memorial Day—a day of remembrance. Today we are gathered in a church whose very name is dedicated to the work of remembrance. Slow us down, Eternal One. Focus our hearts and minds so that we may accomplish the aims of this hour.
Compassionate One, this Memorial Day holds special poignancy for us. The veterans of the Second World War—perhaps our fathers or grandfathers—are gathered on the Mall to commemorate the sacrifice of their generation. We live in the world they made. Their hair is white, their limbs bent with age. Many are gone. We know those who remain will be with us only a little while longer. We know, in the words of the Psalmist, they will soon fly away.
But this Memorial Day is poignant not only with the memories of wars past but because our nation is again at war—in Iraq, in Afghanistan. Unlike the Second World War, which demanded sacrifice from many, these wars have personally touched far fewer Americans. But, for those who have been touched by these wars, the sacrifices are every bit as real, every bit as grievous. So, Compassionate One, help us who lead our lives routinely, to remember those whose lives have been disrupted, or taken from them.
Loving one, we pray for peace.
We pray for peace in the world. We pray for peace in the mountains and valleys of Afghanistan. We pray for peace in the desert cities and along the ancient rivers of Iraq. We pray for peace for a member of our own congregation. Keep her safe as she goes about her work.
We pray for peace in our nation. The walls of the Pentagon are again granite white, but we remember when, only a few short years ago, they were scorched black by terrorists’ fire. We remember when the twin towers in Manhattan burned like torches and collapsed in ashes. We remember when warnings of impending attacks did not come so frequently that they barely registered on our awareness.
We pray for peace in our city, where it seems every day brings new crimes and fresh outrages, all too often, it seems, visited on children.
We pray for peace in our families, Loving One, because all too often we forget to love. And we pray for peace in our own hearts.
Wellspring of Life, because we are prone to forgetfulness, we turn our hearts and minds to you, for in you we live and move and have our being. We know that you forget not even one sparrow. And that, for you, a thousand years are but a watch in the night. We know that when we forget, you remember.
Now, in the stillness of our hearts, let us take a moment to speak the prayers as yet unspoken. Let us name to you, Wellspring, those dear to us—those who are separated by physical distance, those who are separated by emotional distance, those who are separated by death.
And let us not forget to ask your blessing and protection for the many others we cannot name, serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. We remember them, in silence.
By David Skidmore
Sunday, May 30, 2004