Pray for Me Too

God beyond all face and form,

You gift us with stories, fiery and faithful, stories that shine a light on the depth of human suffering and inhumanity. The stories of bodies broken, battered, used and owned, grabbed without consent, traded, bartered and bought as objects, betrayed by family, stranger, and friend.

These stories terrify us, we hate to read them, they’re not nice enough for church.
But they are there. Brave ones shouting, whispering just between the printed lines,
         witnessing, raging, “Me Too.”
         Tamar and Hagar, Lot’s wife and Lot’s daughters,
         David’s daughter and Israel’s son, both had princess tunics torn,
         the concubines, the slaves,
         the prisoners and captives,
         and the daughters, all of them unnamed.

They are there, witnessing to humanities great sin, dismissed quietly.
        Powerful women, simplified by history, brought down in size,
                Mary the quiet, downward glancing saint and
                        Eve the wild haired sinner hardly covering her breasts,
                sculpted and re-sculpted in word and stone,
                        over 2,000 years of the patriarchy’s fearful gaze,
                                proclaiming just how good girls ought to look and behave.

But Mary… You give us Mary and she sings anyway,
        sings of God lifting up the lowly and throwing the mighty from their throne.
        “Time’s Up,” she cries in an ancient song, “My soul magnifies the Lord.”
                Vashti, Queen of self possession roars, “No,”
                         time’s up on kings controlling, demanding, deciding what my body is for.
The Woman at the well preaches time's up on the old ways, we are filled with the water of life.
        Time’s up on crumbs from the master's table and slurs dismissing our humanity.
        Time’s up on sacrificing bodies with Jephthah’s daughter, we dance in defiance.
        Time’s up on God only looking like “He.”

We remember the pain of me too, past and present.
        But the future must look differently, time’s up for the epidemic of inhumanity.
Our hands are made for helping,
        our hearts are made for loving,
                our bodies are sacred, and our dreams are worthy of living,
                        we gather, witnessing to our resurrection faith, Love making all things new.

God, you give us stories, stories where people are never the same, stories where people find their way out of no way, turn the tables, and discover they are beautifully and wonderfully made.
        They light the way as we write our own verse in creation’s eternal song.
 
Time’s up on false humility and quiet little women in church,
        Deborah and Lydia lead with wisdom and courage and grace.
Time’s up on ‘cat fights’ and divisive narratives,
        girls support girls, and we celebrate our strengths,
        Mary and Martha both have our back.
Time’s up on the vulnerable going it alone, Ruth taught us to stand side by side,
        no matter how challenging the road.
Time’s up on the glass ceiling, Mary Magdalene calls us into action, finding the funding, proclaiming the truth, and crushing the patriarchy,
        so all, all people
                he, she and they, can be free.
Let’s do this. And all God’s people said, Amen.

© Rev. Debra McKnight, Urban Abbey