O Red-Faced Jesus of the Upset Tables,
keep relieving us of our religious greed.
Please topple to the ground our self-salvations.
Tear up moral scorecards and one-upmanship.
Bless us with true poverty of spirit
that we may flock into your house of prayer,
bringing nothing but our yawning need.
O Lover of the homeless and the addict,
never let us rest, respectable and clean,
assured that we are “not like those people.”
Show us the homelessness of our cold hearts.
Show us our own “acceptable” addictions.
So turn our souls to loving those you love
with your holy love, which is our true Home.
O Loud and Lavish Lover of the awkward,
the shy and scared, the socially inept,
open our eyes to all their silent beauties.
May we not miss the faithful hearts among us,
not full of many words, but big with love.
May we never idolize exalted speech.
Bless us in our stuttering wordlessness.
