11.28.2020: EChurch@Wartburg: Wade Burleson: When I Feel Like I Cannot Breathe

Earth Aglow NASA/ISS

A first-century prayer from the Syrian Clementine Liturgy link

O God, Who are the unsearchable abyss of peace, the ineffable sea of love,
the fountain of blessings, and the bestower of affection,
Who sends peace to those that receive it;
open to us this day the sea of Your love,
and water us with the plenteous streams from the riches of Your grace.
Make us children of quietness, and heirs of peace.
Kindle in us the fire of Your love; sow in us Your fear;
strengthen our weakness by Your power;
bind us closely to You and to each other in one firm bond of unity;
for the sakd of Jesus Christ.

This is an oldie that is one of Dee’s favorites. It makes me tear up each time. He arose and the grave (yes, the grave) became a place of hope for all of us.

A 5th century ancient collect. (What is a collect?)

Bless all who worship You, from the rising of the sun unto the going down of the same.
Of Your goodness, give us; with Your love, inspire us,
by Your spirit guide us; by Your power, protect us;
in Your mercy receive us now and always.

Psalm 150 NIV link

Praise the Lord.[a]

Praise God in his sanctuary;
    praise him in his mighty heavens.
Praise him for his acts of power;
    praise him for his surpassing greatness.
Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet,
    praise him with the harp and lyre,
praise him with timbrel and dancing,
    praise him with the strings and pipe,
praise him with the clash of cymbals,
    praise him with resounding cymbals.

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord.

(Christmas carols start on Echurch the day after Thanksgiving!)

Last Prayer: Columba, c.521 – 597 link

Alone with none but thee, my God,
I journey on my way.
What need I fear, when thou art near O king of night and day?
More safe am I within thy hand
Than if a host did round me stand.


11.28.2020: EChurch@Wartburg: Wade Burleson: When I Feel Like I Cannot Breathe — 3 Comments

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    i was on a trip to ireland about 10 years ago and stood in one of the churches founded and managed by Collum (Columba) – a humble, windowless stone structure. It was a house of prayer and song, the fields without for work and sustenance, the scribes who copied did so outdoors according to the docent. And from this austere discipline, we encounter the rich poetry and prayer like Columba’s. It takes your breath away.