Ideas for using the prayer in congregational worship:
In 1739 Charles Wesley composed the text to “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,” and in 1828 Carl Gotthelf Gläser set Wesley’s text to the hymn tune he composed and named AZMON. In 1989, Miriam Therese Winter set fresh words to the hymn’s majestic music. Winter’s words, printed in bold type below, introduce each part of the hymn’s prayer. May her words guide the prayers of our hearts this week.
Your congregation may want to sing the words in bold type to the tune of AZMON as a way of introducing each part of this week’s prayer for the world. Or a solo voice may read or sing them. Perhaps five people might like to read a different section aloud.
O for a world where everyone respects each other’s ways,
where love is lived and all is done with justice and with praise.
Creator God, what kind of world do you dream that we will continue creating in your name? Are we working toward the planet of unparalleled beauty and sustenance you dreamed of when you created the Earth and pronounced it “very good.” Along life’s way we meet another child of God . . . and another . . . and another from a different part of this Earth — from Cameroon, from Ontario (Canada), from Thailand, from Nepal, from Tibet, from Chile, from Turkey . . . Surely, as you still call us to understand that you made us in your image, you also call us to recognize the dignity you bequeath to each of your children. You have created us free and equal, made to be in relationship with you.
This summer some of us on this earth tried to escape the fires in Spain or France or Washington state (USA) or the excessive heat in Europe and many other places. Others feared the Ebola virus that was running rampant through the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Malaria seemed far away to many of us when we heard that its rates were highest in the African nations with South Africa, Mozambique, and Nigeria leading the World Health reports. O God, strengthen our belief that no matter our age, our race, our language, each person on this earth is our brother or sister, as important as our nearby neighbor. You call us to be close in your spirit. Forgive us when we forget that.
Remind us of the dignity we were called to show to each other during the Covid-19 pandemic and the honor we had in caring for one another throughout the world. Lord, we give thanks for those who lead us in living your love and, by their example, showing us that your way calls us to have empathy for all.
O for a world where goods are shared and misery relieved,
where truth is spoken, children spared, equality achieved.
God of Provision, yes, you created us to depend on you, and you also created us to learn that we cannot “do it all” by ourselves. We are dependent on our neighbors who live alongside us and our fellow citizens in our own villages, cities, states, and nations in the world upon whom we depend for things that we need and from whom we learn how to cooperate for the good of our world.
May we somehow learn the spirit of trading, not only goods we manufacture in our factories that we exchange or those goods created by others, or crops we grow on our land and trade for those raised in other countries.
We also give thanks for collaboration with others for the exchange of scientific data and research for vaccines and medical treatments, for opportunities to visit and study in other countries, discovering the divine spark that is evident in all of humanity. And may we strengthen in our spirit not only the diplomacy to trade fairly, but also to share out of our abundance with those who are suffering from war, famine, bigotry, and oppression.
We welcome one world family and struggle with each choice
that opens us to unity and gives our vision voice.
God of Community, though we may think our ideas are good — and sometimes they may be — we cannot create a unified vision all by ourselves. We need people to help us grow in depth through the different perspectives of those in the circle, living with questions that are similar to those we are experiencing but also understanding or hearing our questions differently, based on their own life experiences.
Teach us to welcome the stories of immigrants — whether they are from Haiti or Iraq or a wealth of other nations — to honor them, to listen to the struggles they experienced in the place where they were born and to honor the stories about the welcome, or lack of welcome, they have received in the country where they live now.
Teach us to welcome the stories of neighbors who live as close as next door, some who have been afforded the same opportunities that we received, yet who have a completely different take on politics, religion, education, and family.
As our conversation continues throughout our lives, O God, be our Companion; be our Listener and our Questioner and our Guide, who provokes our thoughts and encourages us to live wisely and mercifully in the world. Even if we cannot sit down with the whole world family, may we take advantage of each chance we have to meet with any of the neighbors we see in our day to day life. Help us listen carefully to them as they tell us about their struggles, and give us the courage to tell them some of ours. In this way, we know that our conversation “gives our vision voice.”
Faithful, loving God, give us the gift of empathy to help us to listen to the griefs and challenges that we have not experienced. May we hold safely the treasured words and actions from those who were once strangers to us, from those who were kind and loving to us, though we have never known their names. Give those of us who live in multi-racial communities the capacity to celebrate more than a sliver of your creative imagination, O God! Guide us as we move toward the fulfillment of your vision.
The poor are rich, the weak are strong, the foolish ones are wise.
Tell all who mourn, outcasts belong, who perishes will rise.
Compassionate God, continue to hold in your arms the people who witnessed the whirlpool of horrific destruction in the Himalayan region between Nepal and Tibet caused by the massive glacier collapse. No mountain river could race alongside the flood. No human could outrun it. Few legs, no matter how strong, when caught deep in the mud, could unleash themselves and rush up the mountain to escape it. Few buildings, few homes, fewer bazaars, if any, could withstand its power. Few parents, screaming for their children, or children screaming for their parents, can begin gathering the resilience to begin moving toward clear, pure water. Perhaps it will take a lifetime.
As we remember the people in the United States who were caught in flood at the bottom of the Grand Canyon last weekend, as we remember the people in Gaza (Palestine) whose tenuous water supply is getting more dangerous by the day, may we never forget to remember, too, the thousands of people of Nepal and Tibet who are in ceaseless mourning. We wonder if the people who did not survive the floods realized how vulnerable their lives were when the river — perhaps laden with rocks and mud and branches — washed over them.
Though most of us seem a world away from this particular, horrific storm, may we remember the words of the agrarian poet Wendell Berry, whose great light left the earth this week. “Practice resurrection,” he said to his readers; he said to us.
O God, may we practice what matters most, what is real. Wherever we live, O God, may we practice acts of justice and mercy and grace. We need help as we “practice resurrection.”
God, help us keep our eyes open to places in our world desperately seeking new life. Remind us over and over that our vision and our stories are prayers. Teach us that the land belongs to God, and we belong to one another. Give us faith to plant what we will not live to see mature. Give us courage to invest in a future we cannot control. Help us have faith that the small acts of faithfulness we undertake today may become the soil in which someone else’s life flourishes.
Thank you, God, that we can practice resurrection by caring for the land, by living our prayers for justice, by learning how we can practice caring for the people who are grieving their land and water right now.
O for a world preparing for God’s glorious reign of peace,
where time and tears will be no more and all but love will cease.
May it be so. Amen.