O dear One
whose name is more than a name
whose power I cannot tame
O dear One
I look into the sky, brushed with streaks of pink and orange at the dawn
And am reduced to babytalk — ohhhh, wow….
I gaze at mountain ranges, parapets of stone
And remember how puny is my place in the grand order of things.
O dear One, how can it be
that you, who with consummate skill cut the facets of the celestial gems
And burnished the alabaster moon,
would have bothered to fashion a creature such as myself,
with fickle faith, indigestion, cavitated molars, and the habit of repeating bad jokes?
How can it be that my kind can exist at all, trashing the earth and all its creatures with greed and lust?
Yet you gave me inner eyes that can see you beyond the clouds
You gave me a heart that is a compass aimed at your feet,
You gave me a mind that strives to reveal your every hiding place,
And you gave me a voice to say your name
which is something more than any other name, with a power I cannot attain.
Use freely with attribution.
Jim Burklo, Senior Associate Dean of Religious Life at the University of Southern California, writes progressive prayers, hymns and other worship items. Many of his liturgical materials can be found in his book “Birdlike and Barnless: Meditations, Prayers, and Songs for Progressive Christians” (2008, St Johann Press). Explore his blog for more words for worship.
