A Prayer For The World

A Prayer For The World, Rabbi Harold Kushner

Let the rain come and wash away the ancient grudges, the bitter hatreds held and nurtured over generations. Let the rain wash away the memory of the hurt, the neglect. Then let the sun come out and fill the sky with rainbows. Let the warmth of the sun heal us wherever we are broken. Let it burn away the fog so that we can see each other clearly. So that we can see beyond labels, beyond accents, gender or skin colour. Let the warmth and brightness of the sun melt our selfishness. So that we can share the joys and feel the sorrows of our neighbours. And let the light of the sun be so strong that we will see all people as our neighbours. Let the earth, nourished by rain, bring forth flowers to surround us with beauty. And let the mountains teach our hearts to reach upward to heaven. Amen.

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15 thoughts on “A Prayer For The World

  1. Reminds me of this poem.

    What If?

    What if our religion was each other?
    If our practice was our life?
    If prayer was our words?
    What if the Temple was the Earth?
    If forests were our church?
    If holy water—the rivers, lakes and oceans?
    What if meditation was our relationships?
    If the Teacher was life?
    If wisdom was self-knowledge?
    If love was the center of our being

    – Ganga White

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    • Sounds like a Satan worshipper to me.

      What if our religion was each other?
      Then we would worship each other instead of God. Wait! This happens already.

      If our practice was our life?
      That happens as well. We call a homosexual that, because of his life. A criminal a criminal because of his life.

      If prayer was our words?
      And all sorts of extremists pray for God to kill their enemies already.

      What if the Temple was the Earth?
      We’d end up destroying everyone that we disagree with, on the grounds of defiling the Temple. We’d destroy the separation of church and state leading to oppression of those who do not belong to our temple.

      If Forests were our church?
      The greenies would kill us because we defiled their church with our presence.

      If Holy Water the rivers and lakes and oceans?
      Really? What happens to waters which have been contaminated by animals who defecate and urinate in them. How holy would that make them exactly?

      What if meditation was our relationships?
      That already happens with our teenagers, who meditate on their mobile phones instead of engaging in actual conversation with people. Remember those silly phone games that people play?

      If Teacher was life?
      Depends on whether one is like some of these corporate crooks who’ve lived their lives committing crimes against others, and getting away with it. Or really poor people who are bitter to others better off than themselves. What sort of teacher does these types of lives give you.

      If wisdom was self knowledge?
      The Bible says that the heart is wicked beyond knowledge; who can know it – to describe self deception.

      If love was the centre of our being?
      The love of money is the root of all evil. remember that? Because people are often defined by what they love.

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      • Intersting, Davincvi, to learn that would be your reaction. I feel your present faith is right for you, and no doubt God has led you there.

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  2. This rabbi better be careful the sanhedrin doesn’t get hold of him!
    He’d find himself following the footsteps of that other rabbi.

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  3. A Minister passing through his church
    In the middle of the day,
    Decided to pause by the altar
    To see who came to pray.

    Just then the back door opened,
    And a man came down the aisle,
    The minister frowned as he saw the man
    as he hadn’t shaved in a while.

    His shirt was torn and shabby,
    And his coat was worn and frayed,
    The man knelt down and bowed his head,
    Then rose and walked away.

    In the days that followed at precisely noon,
    The preacher saw this chap,
    Each time he knelt just for a moment,
    A lunch pail in his lap.

    Well, the minister’s suspicions grew,
    With robbery a main fear,
    He decided to stop and ask the man,
    ‘What are you doing here?’

    The old man said he was a factory worker
    And lunch was half an hour
    Lunchtime was his prayer time,
    For finding strength and power.

    I stay only a moment
    Because the factory’s far away;
    As I kneel here talking to the Lord,
    This is kinda what I say:

    ‘I JUST CAME BY TO TELL YOU, LORD,
    HOW HAPPY I HAVE BEEN,
    SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHERS FRIENDSHIP
    AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN.

    DON’T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY,
    BUT I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY.
    SO, JESUS, THIS IS BEN,
    JUST CHECKING IN TODAY.’

    The minister feeling foolish,
    Told Ben that it was fine.
    He told the man that he was welcome
    To pray there anytime.

    ‘It’s time to go, and thanks,’ Ben said
    As he hurried to the door.
    Then the minister knelt there at the altar,
    Which he’d never done before.

    His cold heart melted, warmed with love,
    As he met with Jesus there.
    As the tears flowed down his cheeks,
    He repeated old Ben’s prayer:

    ‘I JUST CAME by TO TELL YOU, LORD,
    HOW HAPPY I’VE BEEN,
    SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHERS FRIENDSHIP
    AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN.

    I DON’T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY,
    BUT I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY.
    SO, JESUS, THIS IS ME,
    JUST CHECKING IN TODAY.’

    Past noon one day, the minister noticed
    That old Ben hadn’t come.
    As more days passed and still no Ben,
    He began to worry some.

    At the factory, he asked about him,
    Learning he was ill.
    The hospital staff was worried,
    But he’d given them a thrill.

    The week that Ben was with them,
    Brought changes in the ward.
    His smiles and joy contagious.
    Changed people were his reward.

    The head nurse couldn’t understand
    Why Ben could be so glad,
    When no flowers, calls or cards came,
    Not a visitor he had.

    The minister stayed by his bed,
    He voiced the nurse’s concern:
    No friends had come to show they cared.
    He had nowhere to turn.

    Looking surprised, old Ben spoke up
    And with a winsome smile;
    ‘The nurse is wrong, she couldn’t know,
    He’s been here all the while.’

    Everyday at noon He comes here,
    A dear friend of mine, you see,
    He sits right down and takes my hand,
    Leans over and says to me:

    ‘I JUST CAME BY TO TELL YOU,BEN,
    HOW HAPPY I HAVE BEEN,
    SINCE WE FOUND THIS FRIENDSHIP,
    AND I TOOK AWAY YOUR SIN.

    I THINK ABOUT YOU ALWAYS
    AND I LOVE TO HEAR YOU PRAY,
    AND SO BEN, THIS IS JESUS,
    JUST CHECKING IN TODAY.’

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    • Hi Toots!
      Good to see you have haven’t fallen prey to the local heathens.
      As for poetry, I think I’ll stick with Old Omar: much more comforting and less contentious! 😉

      A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
      A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou
      Beside me singing in the Wilderness —
      Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

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      • No, no heathens there. There’s a church on every corner Dabs, all built and paid for by the parishoners, and Mass celebrated in each one every week. Their faith humbled me.

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      • hmm…No heathens, huh?
        Where’d I get the idea they were catholics?…….

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      • They are Catholics—-and the most generous, kind-hearted, friendly people; who go out of their way to help, you could ever hope to meet. May God contine to keep and bless these beautiful people of Malta.

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      • Just kidding Mon! Did you forget to pack your sense of humour?
        My best friend is married to one, and loves the inlaws/extended family more than just about anything else.
        ….AND she’s a catholic!
        (not a big fan of TV though ~ except instructional programs like South Park and such.)

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      • ps
        “hmm…No heathens, huh?
        Where’d I get the idea they were catholics?…….”

        “They ARE Catholics”

        Think about it…….

        (how do you do the italics? …no, not talking about malteasers now ! 😆 )

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      • I knew you were kidding Dabs,

        But even so, there are Christians who think Catholics are heathens—seriously! And I’ll admit that I even went through a stage where I too thought they were idol-worshippers, but thankfully I’ve since come to my senses and see them in a new light.

        No, I don’t care for the statues (but that’s a Roman thing), but I do love the paintings, stained-glass and other artwork (expressions of faith). Much rather that than the dull and boring nothingness of the Anglican churches.

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