Living Prayer

When I realized that all is prayer,

it changed everything,

or at least it changes everything

on those occasions –

more rare than I would like to admit –

when the prayerfulness

of each present moment does not elude me.

Those careless or caring words

with people who are committed,

by genetics or betrothal,

to spend a lifetime with us?

Prayer.

That erupting criticism or praise
of people whose livelihoods 
are purposefully tied to us,

by shared employment or economic interaction?

Prayer.

Those words never spoken,

because they’re never thought,

about the invisible ones

we walk and live right past each day?

Prayer.

That post you shared,

whether or not you envisioned

those with whom it would resonate

or those whose rage it might ignite?

Prayer.

That wishing, both backward and forward,

past regrets and future hopes,

sometimes wholly selfishness

and others, holy selflessness?

Prayer.

Never imagine, then,

that you didn't have/make time for it,

that you didn't do enough of it.

Just try to pay attention to how

you’re constantly doing it.

Prayer.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2013 Todd Jenkins

White Bread Jesus

Too much of the work 

of the institutional church

feels like feeding white

bread to domestic ducks.

Never mind that its nutritional value

has been thoroughly denatured

by a bleaching process which

not even God can withstand,

fully oppositional to transfiguration’s

amazing glow; or that it doesn't even

stay in our spiritual digestive system

long enough to last us ‘til the next meal.

Give us a Jesus that is

palatable and domesticated;

a Savior who goes well with

the rest of our pasteurized lives;

a smoothie, processed

for safe and easy digestion.

God forbid that we should

have to chew and think,

to struggle and be challenged,

to wonder what it means

to be invited to a table

whose menu is "my body,

broken for you" and

"my blood poured out for

the forgiveness of your sins".

No, we’ll have White Bread Jesus;

and make that “to go” please.

Photo by Keith Powell

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Reveal

Teach us, O Creator of the universe,

to un-hoard our lives

by letting go of the things

we think we need,

so that we can make room

in our homes and hands

to gently cup the beating heart

and fluttering wings of your promise.

Gift us with a peace that nestles us

secured but un-smothered

in a willingness to risk

our whole selves to your providence.

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Call to Worship

[one] We’re probably here because the people who were here before us either gave birth to us, married us, worked with us, befriended us, or invited us.

[many] We’re also here because God put a longing deep inside us that has not yet been satisfied.

[one] We've tried to satisfy this longing – this hunger – with many other things:

[many] material possessions, food, superficial relationships, busy schedules, and more.

[one] Could this be a day when we find more of the answers for how to fill the emptiness and dissatisfaction?

[many] That’s what we’re hoping. That’s why we came.

[all] Let us open wide, dig deep, and dare to let God loose!

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Freedom

It really has no thumbnail view;

won’t be found where “me and mine”

live in homogenously gated communities;

bolts unannounced with claustrophobia

when its definition is squeezed

into the privatized closet of self.

Violence and control are temporary.

The forces of the universe can only

be held at bay for so long before

cracks in the dam of possessiveness

begin to leak the world back into balance.

Freedom resides outside the walls,

beyond the cliffs, near the beach,

where the sea of humanity steadily

and gently laps against earth’s shore.

That’s where the hungry are fed,

the naked clothed, the sick healed,

and the dead laid to rest in peace.

It knows no borders, fears no differences,

sleeps with neither medicine nor anxiety;

is possessed by God and possesses not.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2013 Todd Jenkins

Music's Gift

Time is the measure

that helps us decide

if the words of our hymns

will forever abide

in our minds, our lives

and deep in our hearts

as the firm foundation

for how our faith starts

to move us beyond

ourselves and our kin;

throw open the doors,

let the whole world in.

As for the new music

we hear, play, and sing,

we’ll ask the same questions;

let our lives be the thing

that teach us for sure

one way or another

if the music we breathe

opens grace to the other.

It’s not instruments,

or style or form,

but the hope music offers

others’ spirits to warm.

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2012 Todd Jenkins

Space

Photo by Lee Lindsey McKinney

Introverts are not nearly

as afraid to speak and hear

as you might imagine.

We do, however,

value words to the point

that more of them will not be added

to a time and place before

the echo of those previously spoken

has faded and their wisdom been absorbed.

So, if you're interested

in knowing our story,

you might elicit its unfolding

by honoring your own tales

with a little more space

than might seem necessary.

Who knows what deeps

we'll find ourselves

treasured into?

© 2013 Todd Jenkins

Responsibility

Photo by Todd Jenkins

Don't let the thoughts

that immediately erupt

with chaos and surprise's arrival

poison the well of your future.

Leave room for the unexpected

words and actions of others to be

totally not about you at all.

Make space for the pieces

of your life's puzzle to be

drawn closer to others'

and not repelled by the

angst of your initial fear.

Moving from expectation to desire

is the difference between

blaming others for your unhappiness

and taking responsibility

for identifying your own joy.

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Reassembly Required

Have you ever tried to construct

a complicated gift – a child’s toy

that comes in a box,

broken down into dozens

of different pieces;

a piece of furniture

that comes the same way;

or some other device

or gadget that arrives

labeled “assembly required”?

Sometimes the directions

aren’t quite clear, and seem

as if they have been translated

from another language,

either by a woefully inadequate

online tool or someone

whose bilinguality has been validated

by little more than the purchase

of Rosetta Stone discs.

Other times, there seem to be

pieces broken in transit,

or altogether missing,

making it nearly impossible

to construct anything

that resembles the original

product’s description and function.

Have you ever stopped to consider

how your life could be

described in this same way?

The harder we try to glue,

bolt, and otherwise connect

the fragmented pieces of our lives,

forcing them to function like

and resemble a picture

we were shown in the past

or someone else imagined for our future,

the more frustrated, hopeless,

and dysfunctional we become.

What would happen if we freed

ourselves and our expectations

from instructions and components

demanding perfect function and understanding,

focusing instead, on reconstructing

our broken pieces into vessels capable

of holding those around us

in the present moment

beneath grace’s flow?

Photo by Todd Jenkins

© 2014 Todd Jenkins

Trade-In

Photo by Lee Lindsey McKinney

Living “not from around here”

is less about the origin

of one’s birth certificate,

and more about the size

of one’s heart and

the steadfastness of one’s search.

Revelation is always feared

by those who wield power,

be it cultural, political, familial,

economic, or ecclesial.

They know, all too well,

how an an "e" and an "a"

can quickly be traded in

for an "o" and a "u"

when the emperor's ensemble

is seen in the light of day.

© 2014 Todd Jenkins