sunday reflection: coventry litany of reconciliation

I had my journal out, and was copying the words down from the prayer that was framed and hanging on the wall. It was called the Coventry Litany of Reconciliation. As I finished scribbling the verses, the old man volunteering at the reception desk asked I had heard of Coventry. He voice was almost a soft whisper, and his British accent was spot on perfect. I told him I had not heard of it, and he asked if it would be okay if he told me the story.

Coventry is a town and England, and during World War II it was the Detroit of the Britain… meaning it was the home of major factories producing trucks and other vehicles for the war effort. Of course, this meant it was a prime target. And so, on November 14, 1940, over 450 German planes dropped their bombs on Coventry… killing over a thousand people and wiping out the city.

One of the most prized structures that was destroyed was the town’s cathedral, which dated back to the 12th century.

In retaliation for the Coventry bombing (and others), the British later destroyed the German town of Dresden.

After the war was over, many Germans flocked to Coventry to help rebuild the city, specifically the cathedral. And in response, many Brits from Coventry traveled to Germany to help rebuild Dresden, specifically the hospital.

And rising from the ashes of the new cathedral in Coventry there now stands the Chapel of Reconciliation. And in that chapel, every Friday to this day, tourists and locals gather around the altar and pray this prayer of confession and reconciliation:

"All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God."

The hatred which divides nation from nation, race from race, class from class.
Father forgive.

The covetous desires of men and nations to possess what is not their own.
Father forgive.

The greed which exploits the labors of men and lays waste the earth.
Father forgive.

Our indifference to the plight of the homeless and refugees.
Father forgive.

The lusts which use for ignoble ends the bodies of men and women.
Father forgive.

The pride which leads us to trust in ourselves and not in God.
Father forgive.


“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”

For those today who have ears to hear, let them hear… and let them pray this prayer.

on deadlines & stopping terror: who reports & who decides?

I haven't had cable for over three years, and in all honesty I really don't miss it much. From time to time I long for a few hours of the History Channel, but for the most part I've learned to become quite content with a pair of rabbit ears and the four networks.

Not that it hasn't been easy. I'm a news junkie, and so without cable I have only one shot each night during dinner to watch the news. No 24 hour fair and balanced reporting for me. But then again, that might not be such a bad thing. For example, as Congress and the President dig in for a colossal confrontation on a deadline for pulling U.S. troops out of Iraq, there is really only one place on cable that can do what FOX, CNN, and MSNBC can't... report on the truth of the stupidity of it all.

This is the one reason worth giving in and getting cable:

a prayer for the virginia tech family

All-loving and caring God, Parent of us all,
you know our grief in our loss,
for you too suffered the death of your child.
Give us strength to go forward from this day,
trusting, where we do not understand, that your love never ends.
When all else fails, you still are God.
We thank you for the life and hope that you give
through the resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ.
We pray to you for one another in our need,
and for all, anywhere, who mourn with us this day.
To those who doubt, give light; to those who are weak, strength;
to all who have sinned, mercy; to all who sorrow, your peace.
Keep true in us the love with which we hold one another.
And to you, with your Church on earth and in heaven,
we offer honor and praise, now and forever. Amen.

Prayer of Death and Resurrection
Methodist Book of Worship

hog heaven

Despite his size and snorting, I had no idea he was behind me until he clamped down on my right butt cheek. I screamed, he squealed, and my Papa broke down laughing. I was five years old, and the hogs on my grandfather’s farm in central Texas were at least twice my size. So when one of them snuck up behind me and took a bite out of my behind, I was terrorized for life.

Still on the farm twenty-five years later, I remembered the horror as I walked across the back pasture at sunset and saw what I thought was a pack of stray dogs in the distance. Then the pack turned and started running towards me. As they closed in I started to hear the telltale sounds of snorting and squealing, and quickly realized the “stray dogs” were really wild feral hogs. My feet never touched the ground.

No, I don’t like pigs biting my pants, but I do like them on my plate. The smell of bacon in the morning. Sausage and biscuits. Honey baked ham at Christmas. My father saying, “I can’t eat pork, it’s against my religion,” every time he reaches for another strip, patty or link.

Pigs can be pets, the main character in children's books, breakfast, or in my case at five they can even be terrorists. But the one I have never understood is pig as a mascot. Well, I guess I’ll have to get used to it, because we’re moving to Arkansas!

That’s right, we’re moving to Fayetteville, Arkansas… home of the University of Arkansas Razorbacks. Go hogs. Woo pig.

Actually, we really are excited. Jenn and I both graduate in May, and in July we will pack up and leave our old Kentucky home. I will be working at the Wesley Foundation at the University of Arkansas as an Associate Director. For those of you who don’t know, the Wesley Foundation is the Methodist Church’s college campus ministry. They have a great program down there, with a great staff and some awesome students. As we get closer to moving I’ll fill you in on more of the details.

Until then, pray for us as we wrap up this season here and prepare to begin a new one in Arkansas. And pray for Jenn, too. She’ll be looking for a job once we’re there.

So until next time: Salaam, Shalom, Peace… and Woo Pig Sooie.