Come here to see a reflection shared by one of our chaplains every morning on our morning report!

Shared by Chaplain Resident Isaiah Hobus

Come, Join in Mary's Prophetic Song by Robert Boyd 

Come, join in Mary's prophetic song of justice for the earth, for right out-grows the fiercest wrong, revealing human worth — bound not with in the wealth we crave or in the arms we bear, but in the holy sign God gave: the image that we share. 

The "peace on earth" which shepherds heard is not some fantasy. The angels sang to greet the Word, whose birth is victory. The maiden Mary, not so mild, bore into death's domain true God, and yet an infant child, who over death would reign. 

Emmanuel, God-with-us here, grows peace where we would dare to act despite our trembling fear and bring God's holy care. The image God made "us" to be is also borne on "them." Christ bids us join our enemy to sing war's requiem. 

Shared by chaplain resident andrew plasker


a blessing for a little boost in the morning

Today is new, oh God,
The light is gathering and spilling onto everything. The sleeping and the sleepy.
The trees brushing the window.
Even the unwashed dishes know it’s time.

What a gift.
Unopened.

Lord, you know the obstacle course ahead.
The intractability of most of my problems.
The irritations I will need to smile through.
The forgetfulness that will undo my best efforts. And the fights I will need to pick because someone really should.

But bring me back to this moment, God.
The gratitude that rises up within me
lifts my eyes and settles my soul.
Resurrection has happened again today—
you made the sun rise,
and brought love to the world already,
in the shape of a cross.

The hardest work is already done.
The work that remains is simply more of it: more love, more trust,
more faith in the unseen pleasure you take just gazing at us, sitting here.
We look ahead at a day that we can’t control but will be, somehow, already yours.

-Kate Bowler The Lives We Actually Have

Shared by Chaplain Resident Isaiah Hobus

"To empty ourselves of our false divinity, to deny ourselves, to give up being the center of the world in imagination, to discern that all points in the world are equally centers and that the true center is outside the world, this is to consent to the rule of mechanical necessity in matter and of free choice at the center of each soul. Such consent is love. The face of this love, which is turned toward thinking persons, is the love of our neighbor; the face turned toward matter is love of the order of the world, or love of the beauty of the world, which is the same thing."

Simone Weil

Shared by Chaplain intern jia cummings

The Valley of Vision

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly, Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision, where I live in the depths but see thee in the heights; hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold thy glory.

Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to have nothing is to possess all, that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, that to give is to receive, that the valley is the place of vision.

Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells, and the deeper the wells the brighter thy stars shine;

Let me find thy light in my darkness, thy life in my death, thy joy in my sorrow, thy grace in my sin, thy riches in my poverty thy glory in my valley.

From The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions (ed. Arthur Bennett)

Shared by Chaplain Resident Brynn McGlamery

   They sat in the ancient place
                                                  of the broken and bombed,
                                          the torn and taken, the loss and lost
                                                           remembering
                                                          the shattering
                                                  pockets and bags filled
                                                 with remnants captured
                                                          by keen sight
                                              able to touch what be not
                                                     as though it were
                                                     possible to make.
                                      These multi-shaded women knew
                                                      their anointing,
                                                    the power to join
 broken glass, torn hearts, pebbles large and small, bloodstained brick, pieces of
those aprons that smelled like fresh bread, flashes of sadness caught in song, the
           extra fabric from the wedding dress, little napkins, quick melancholies,
           bunches of laughter, shreds from curtains from soul windows.

                                           Then with eyes aligned,
                                     stepping out onto nothingness,
                                          handling things that could
                                          slice flesh, and pierce skin
                                       they placed pieces side by side
                                           unprecedented, but now
                                         colors and shapes dancing
                                        intricate new steps making
                                             visible pulsating joy
                                          never before imagined.

             Then they decided in majestic wisdom to create soft shelter
               against the cold, against threat, against forgetting caress,
               and as the final threads joined, they saw what God wanted
                                 to call good, but could not create.

blessed are you by jan richardson - shared by chaplain director john oliver

Blessed are you
who bear the light
in unbearable times,
who testify
to its endurance
amid the unendurable,
who bear witness
to its persistence
when everything seems
in shadow
and grief.

Blessed are you
in whom
the light lives,
in whom
the brightness blazes—
your heart
a chapel,
an altar where
in the deepest night
can be seen
the fire that
shines forth in you
in unaccountable faith,
in stubborn hope,
in love that illumines
every broken thing
it finds.

© Jan Richardson, Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons

litany for the earth - jan pratt - shared by chaplain intern lauren jacobi

Here is the text of the first half of Psalm 24 (NLT).

The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.
The world and all its people belong to him.
For he laid the earth’s foundation on the seas
and built it on the ocean depths.

Who may climb the mountain of the Lord?
Who may stand in his holy place?
Only those whose hands and hearts are pure,
who do not worship idols
and never tell lies.

They will receive the Lord’s blessing
and have a right relationship with God their savior.
Such people may seek you
and worship in your presence, O God of Jacob.
                 - Psalm 24:1-6


God, we lament the destruction that has been done
That we have permitted to be done
By our silence and inaction
And by our direct action
To the Earth - Your creation. *
Forgive us, Oh God.

Even now we realize that our home
Is suffering
Its inhabitants are suffering
From lack of clean water and air
     Lack of life-giving nourishment
     Lack of safe habitat.

Help us to become aware
     Of the needs of humanity,
     Of the needs of generations to come,
     Of the needs of soil and creatures.
We acknowledge that we have a chance:
     To choose peace over profit
     To choose activity over complacency
     To choose a Greater Good over today’s convenience.

Arouse in us a new compassion,
A new willingness to change,
A new excitement to foster community,
A new faith in the abundance of your Kingdom.
A new zeal for establishing the Peace and Justice of God,
A new desire to set the Earth to rights
A new understanding of the connectedness of all things,
A new appreciation of the gift of Earth.

Amen

Cleansing Rain (a Nature Meditation by Kenya Jackson-Saulters, MS, reiki master) - Shared by chaplain intern aaron shirley

Find a place to sit quietly for a few minutes. Close your eyes and imagine a rainstorm rolling in. Feel the experience of the storm surrounding you. Hear the loud claps of thunder. See the bright flashes of lighting. Listen for the pitter-patter of raindrops on the trees, the ground, the rocks. Now imagine that this rain has come to cleanse you. Think of something that's causing you stress, and allow the raindrops to wash over you, taking your troubles along with them as they run into the ground.

A Prayer by st anselm of canterbury - shared by chaplain intern tanner hendricks

O my God, teach my heart where and how to seek You,
where and how to find You.
You are my God and You are my all and I have never seen You.
You have made me and remade me,
You have bestowed on me all the good things I possess,
Still I do not know You.
I have not yet done that for which I was made.
Teach me to seek You.
I cannot seek You unless You teach me
or find You unless You show Yourself to me.
Let me seek You in my desire,
let me desire You in my seeking.
Let me find You by loving You,
let me love You when I find You.

Amen

A Blessing for Healers (Prayer by the Theology, Medicine, and Culture Initiative at Duke) - Shared by Chaplain Intern Aaron Shirley

Bless the patients we each touch that all who care for them would recognize them as creatures who need rest and bread. As wonderers who need beauty and delight. As companions who need relationship, friendship, and communion with you.

Give us eyes to see what you would have us see. Give us ears to hear what you would have us hear. Give us discernment and humility as we engage what may be unfamiliar to us, testing all things according to your Word, holding fast to what is good.

May you be revealed in our breaking of bread. May we recognize your beauty, may we find that we belong to you, and leave this world changed and charged to heal anew. 

Amen.