Dear Friends:

As I continue to reflect on the event this past Saturday, the attempted assassination of former President Trump, I have prayed and searched for words to share with all of you during these troubling times. I hope you join me in praying for the family of the young man killed, for those who were wounded, for President Trump and his family, and most of all for the soul of our nation. As followers of the Prince of Peace, may we all strive to be Peacemakers in all that we do and speak.

I wanted to share with you some words and prayers I found comforting. May God hear our prayers and transform our hearts and minds to be people of love.

From our Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church – the Most Reverend Michael Curry:

“The way of love—not the way of violence—is the way we bind up our nation’s wounds. We decry political violence in any form, and our call as followers of Jesus of Nazareth is always to love. We pray for the families of those who were killed. We pray for former President Trump and his family and for all who were harmed or impacted by this incident. I pray that we as a nation and a world may see each other as the beloved children of God.”

From our Bishop – the Right Reverend Russell Kendrick:

Friends and neighbors in the Central Gulf Coast,

As I write to you, only 16 hours have passed since the assassination attempt on President Donald Trump. Questions continue to be raised. The news continues to develop. Emotions continue to stir. Social media continues to spiral. The future continues to unfold. Into the waves and wind of this storm, let us recall and repeat these words of comfort, healing, and hope. “Peace be with you.”

And as we make our way forward, may we remember that we follow the way, truth, and life of Christ Jesus.

Let us pray for all personally affected and emotionally impacted by the horror of this event. Pray for President Trump’s full recovery and pray for his family too. Pray for those who mourn; pray for those whose actions brought calm and resolve. And let us pray for our way forward being guided by the familiar words of this prayer attributed to Saint Francis calling us to be instruments of peace.

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.

May the Peace of God which surpasses all understanding be with each and all.

+Russell

Lastly, this prayer written by philosopher, pastor, educator, theologian, and civil rights leader Howard Thurman. At our recent General Convention, we passed a resolution directing our Standing Committee on Liturgy and Music to prepare readings and collects for honoring Thurman on or around April 10^th each year, on our calendar of Lesser Feasts and Fasts. Consequently, in preparation for General Convention, I began reading some of his works. I am completely blown away by his writings and grateful for his life. I encourage you to investigate some of Thurman’s works. This prayer seemed most appropriate for our current situation:

Prayer For A Friendly World

Our Father, fresh from the world, with the smell of life upon us, we make an act of prayer in the silence of this place.  Our minds are troubled because the anxieties of our hearts are deep and searching.  We are stifled by the odor of death which envelopes our earth, where in so many places brother fights against brother.  The panic of fear, the torture of insecurity, the ache of hunger, all have fed and rekindled ancient hatreds and long-forgotten memories of old struggles, when the world was young and Thy children were but dimly aware of Thy Presence in the midst.  For all this, we seek forgiveness.  There is no one of us without guilt and, before Thee, we confess our sins: we are proud and arrogant; we are selfish and greedy; we have harbored in our hearts and minds much that makes for bitterness, hatred and revenge.

 While we wait in Thy Presence, search our spirits and grant to our minds the guidance and the wisdom that will teach us the way to take, without which there can be no peace and no confidence anywhere.  Teach us how to put at the disposal of Thy Purposes of Peace the fruits of our industry, the products of our minds, the vast wealth of our land and the resources of our spirit.  Grant unto us the courage to follow the illumination of this hour to the end that we shall not lead death to any man’s door; but rather may we strengthen the hands of all in high places, and in common tasks seek to build a friendly world, of friendly men & women, beneath a friendly sky.  This is the simple desire of our hearts which we share with Thee in thanksgiving and confidence.

From “The Centering Moment”, by Howard Thurman (1984)

It’s Breast Cancer Awareness month and the waiting room is packed. The pink ribbons the staff wear scream at us – this might be for you today. The irony is neither lost on us nor humorous. For every person in this room knows that on the other side of this wait there is joy or despair, relief or shock, release or fear.

The waiting room is decorated to calm, with faux wood floors and somebody-said-this-was-soothing paint colors. There are only a couple of other men here with their wives. People are fidgeting, tired, cranky, sick of waiting while also wishing this day would go away. There are quite a few older folk who have joined the ranks of the “I must yell into my cell phone in public” tribe, leading me to know far too much about their public lives. However, the entertainment value is pretty high.

My heart rate keeps climbing. You try to quell that inner voice of panic with “we’ve been down this road before and it was fine”, but the voice does not agree, reminding me “this is taking a lot longer than before” and “they asked for extra images” and “the doctor sent her over here IMMEDIATELY for scans”. So you wonder, because you know for almost every scary diagnosis people had sat in these chairs thinking it was nothing, it’s not ME, it’s not US.

She is still back there. They won’t let me go back. The news from the back has been delivered to me in more and more panic filled text messages. “They sent me back in for more images”. I know her so well, I can hear her voice crack and her eyes fill.

It is of course not all about me, unlike it is for the fellow in the chair next to me. Tom so far has chewed his wife out twice because “this is taking too long”. He grumbles and sighs, she is pleasant and reassuring, this appears to be a dance they both know well. Finally, in a sweet voice she tells him to just go on back to work if he needs to so bad. Tom snaps back, “what I NEED is a nap!” In my mind I promptly awarded him Mr. Compassion 2014. Maybe his sash should be pink.

They call Mrs. Barfield, loud talker supreme. Her moans just for the effort to stand are on an equal decibel level with her phone conversations. She is alone. I feel sorry for her as she finally rises and begins to shuffle her way to the back. THE BACK. Her cell rings again, evidently Joe is somewhere, parking, and can just wait in the car.

So I pray, fervently, for good news. Not just for my wife but for Mrs. Barfield and for Mrs. Married the Wrong Guy and for women everywhere who this day hear the words they never thought they would hear.

Not too long after she ambled to the back, Mrs. Barfield returns, walking a bit more spry. She announces to the few of us still in the waiting room in our chairs of impending doom, “well glad that’s over!” She shuffles slowly to the door, smiling broadly. I am happy for her. I hope Joe is nearby.

Our news, at last, is delivered in person by the radiologist. Everything is ok. Prayers are offered in thanksgiving and for all those whom the pink ribbons mean so much.