Lament for the Long Haul
Good Shepherd of the sheep,
Master of the great feast,
Lord of the harvest,
I worship You.
O Lord, You see the multitudes
still suffering over the long haul from the ravages of the pandemic.
Their needs are many, too great for the strongest and most influential,
Much less one such as I.
All I can do is bear them on my heart to Your throne of grace.
You have mercy and grace to help them in time of need.
And You can sway the hearts of Your people to help carry the cross of disability.
If You are willing, You can even heal.
Lord, I bring You the mothers nurturing from the sofa;
The artists whose creative vision is blurred by brain fog;
The athletes bound to wheelchair and home;
The scientists whose bright intellects have been dimmed and dulled;
The physicians imprisoned in home or bed from infections in the line of duty;
The millions slogging through hours of work to earn their bread,
Who keep their illness secret to protect their jobs;
The millions more unable to work at all, but denied disability assistance
And struggling to meet basic survival needs;
The children and young people whose promising futures vaporized
When we, their elders, did not shield them from disease, disability, and death
Borne like smoke in the air.
I bring You the wife deciding between taking a shower and preparing a meal,
Unable to attempt both today.
I bring You the mama fighting through Long COVID brain fog
To care for her adolescent daughter diagnosed with dementia,
Dementia caused by COVID.
I bring You the sufferers weary of research
And demoralized by begging for validation, protection,
A listening ear, and the kindness of understanding.
I bring You those traumatized by medical disbelief, dull ears, denial.
I mourn these broken bodies and damaged futures.
I lament our guilt, our culpability,
As a church and as a society.
Our sins are many and grievous.
We have not loved You with our whole hearts,
Nor our neighbors as ourselves.
I am heartily sorry for these our misdoings.
Forgive us, Lord. Forgive me, Lord,
For my failures to love these battered bodies and bruised souls well.
They are persons clothed with the inherent dignity of Your image.
We have not honored that humanity
And treated their lives as sacred to You.
Awaken Your church to true repentance—
We have not loved our neighbors as ourselves—
To relinquish excuses
And to love You by loving the least.
What we do to the sick and in prison,
We do to You, Lord Christ.
Have mercy on us for the hardness of our hearts,
O Savior of the pierced side.
Lift our gaze from our own internecine quarrels
To the ocean of desperate need all around us.
Open our ears to the cries of the hundreds of millions
Imprisoned and alienated by sick bodies and beds of suffering.
Good Shepherd of the sheep,
Gather the forlorn and forsaken sheep into Your arms;
Carry them through the dark valley at the pace of Your pulse;
Extrude Your undershepherds to guard, nourish, and abide with them.
Master of the feast,
Send forth Your servants to bear
On stretchers the sick and disabled,
Welcoming them to the gracious abundance of Your hospitality,
Not dependent on performance, appearance, or productivity,
But only on their need and willingness.
Lord of the harvest,
Raise up Your fellow workers
To go forth weeping,
Carrying the seed of Your Word,
The seed of the gospel,
The seed of promises and hope;
Cultivating Your truth;
Pouring out Your life-giving water
In hope of a harvest of joy.
Lord God Almighty,
Raise up helpers to do for them what they cannot do;
Raise up givers to share their financial burdens;
Raise up advocates to fight alongside them through the torturous disability and accommodation process;
Raise up physicians, wise and patient, willing to believe their witness of suffering and weakness,
Curious, diligent, and dedicated to finding treatments now and, one day, cures;
Raise up teachers and tutors for the children who can only learn at home;
Raise up servants willing to help them on their own terms, gladly stripping off pride and self-preferences to wash their feet;
Raise up friends and comforters with listening, empathetic ears,
Kind eyes, shared tears, ready to sit with Job on the ash heap in silence;
Raise up prophets speaking forth words of life, forgiveness, hope, and peace;
Raise up just leaders ready to act with integrity and humble service,
Valuing moral duty above political expediency;
Raise up pastors to instill courage in the downcast,
To strengthen marriages to endure the furnace of chronic illness,
To support grieving, anxious children who have lost their Before-COVID parent
Though that loving heart still beats.
Be all these things in Yourself, Lord:
Helper, giver, advocate,
Physician, teacher, servant,
Friend, prophet, leader, pastor.
You are these and more
And can form us into Your likeness,
To do after You what we see in You,
To follow in Your steps.
Look upon this multitude,
Needing all this practical aid,
And also the care and cure of their souls.
Whom will You send, Lord? Who will go for You?
Where are the churches who will search out these lost lambs?
These invisible ones, like lepers, exiled outside the camp?
Who will bend low in humble service,
Be the hands and feet of Jesus to those who cannot respond in kind?
Who will join the fellowship of the beautiful feet,
Extending good news
Of hope in Jesus,
The enduring kingdom to come, the new bodies awaiting,
A purpose in our suffering,
All things cooperating for good for those who love You.
The chronically ill will not, cannot, likely
Fill coffers or pews, fold bulletins, or chair committees.
They cannot teach Sunday school or sing in choir.
Yet lavishing love on the languishing
Is lavishing love on Christ.
Give us—me—ears to listen,
Hearts to love,
Hands to serve,
Wills to believe their stories,
Comfort in our own afflictions
To share with them.
In the multitude of needs,
Bless and multiply these offered crumbs
For Your name’s sake.
Good Shepherd of the sheep—
Seek the lost and wounded and bear them up in Your strong arms.
Master of the great feast—
Summon and serve the sick and disabled,
Made welcome under Your banner of abundant love.
Lord of the harvest—
Raise up faithful workers and send them into Your fields
To labor diligently to gather in the fruit of Christ’s suffering.
Your kingdom come, Father.
Your will be done,
For Your glorious name’s sake.
Amen.
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