Monday, April 16, 2012

My Profession

Lord, this is my prayer,

To live a life surrendered to Christ.  A life whose reference is Christ – all moving toward him and all moving out from him.

To live in the present, in celebration of the good that you created, but also in full recognition of my own sinfulness.

To know that the Christ I follow was crucified.

To know that Christ is present with me here and now, in my earthly life, in my earthly body.

To step into the life of the oppressed and not fear the death of self that comes with that step.

To find community that is grounded in Christ and that prepares all in that community for engagement with the world through disciplines of prayer, song, Scripture, silence, confession, and celebration.

To have the strength to look in the mirror and ask not what my thoughts are or what my talk is, but what my life is.

To have the courage to obey your call on my life even when it contradicts my own longings and desires, and even when it seems contrary to reason or my own ethics.

Though I may not know your will for every circumstance I face, to act boldly and rely on the assurance of your mercy and grace.

To develop a liturgy of desire for the Christ-centered life, a liturgy that rejects the desires that the world calls me to, like consumerism and promotion of self over others.

To have the courage to make decisions from inside of pain and suffering and not just from a place of security.

To always hold my reason in obedience to Jesus Christ, the crucified and resurrected.

To believe your demonstration through Christ that you are utterly for humanity, utterly for me.

To view my life through the lens of Christ instead of viewing Christ through the lens of me.

Not to fear going into the world with the gospel because I know that Christ has already gone before me.

To see Christ hidden in the oppressed, the sick, the imprisoned, the hated, the illegal immigrant, the hungry, the unloved.

To love with action, to love when it is hard, to love the one who irritates me, imprisons me, slanders me, and mistreats me, to love in the way that frees, instead of controls.

To see Christ between me and any other.

To know that the way your grace works is not to sweep me up and pull me out of the world and into a far-away place called heaven, but rather, to meet me here and restore, as if never broken, the parts of me that I would call forever damaged and silenced by my own sin and the sins of others.

To rely solely and completely on the righteousness of Christ.

To ask not “what does this have to do with me,” but instead, “what does this have to do with Christ?”

To ask not “who is this person to me,” but instead, “who is this person to Christ?”

To be available to you.

To live a life that is yours alone.

In the name of Jesus,