Father of all, we pray to you for those we love, but see no longer: Grant them eternal rest; let light perpetual shine upon them; and in your loving wisdom and almighty power, work in them the good purpose of your perfect will; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Almighty God, Father of all mercies and giver of comfort: Deal graciously, we pray, with all who mourn; that, casting all their care upon you, they may know the consolation of your love; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
I am posting Sunday Drive a day early this week, in hopes of encouraging all my truckbuddies and visitors to take a little time out from the usual weekend routine to reflect on just what we are called to be and do in this bewildering life.
Today is All Souls' Day, known in the Episcopal Church as the Commemoration of All Faithful Departed, a twin feast of All Saints' Day. As Forward Movement puts it, "This is a good time to remember the unspectacular children of God: those whose Christian witness may have been weak or faltering, but who are still very dear and important to God and to us."
It is a good time to remember and give thanks for all those "little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love," done by those we love but see no longer, that have fostered, comforted, encouraged, and sustained us throughout our lives.
It is also a good time to recall, as someone has said, that "Though we cannot all do great things, we can all do small things with great love." And that makes all the difference, doesn't it?
By sheer coincidence, this weekend marks ten years of M.P.'s residence in this little bungalow, and twelve years of our friendship, which has given us both abundant occasions to practice those not-so-small things - along with forgiveness and patient forbearance, as need may be - and for which we are very thankful.
Your weak and faltering Head Trucker has long been fond of the Prayer for Peace, so appropriate for the present age, which beautifully summarizes the actions of love and grace, and recalls to my forgetful mind my duties in this life. Here it is movingly sung by John Michael Talbot:
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, harmony; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that I may seek not so much to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.
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We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love.
and welcome to the Blue Truck, a blog for mature gay men with news and views on gay rights, history, art, humor, and whatever comes to mind. Plus a few hot men. The truck's all washed and gassed up, so hop in buddy, let's go.
CAUTION: For mature gay men only beyond this point. Some posts and links may not be suitable for children or the unco guid. You have been warned.
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Churches say that the expression of love in a heterosexual monogamous relationship includes the physical, the touching, embracing, kissing, the genital act - the totality of our love makes each of us grow to become increasingly godlike and compassionate. If this is so for the heterosexual, what earthly reason have we to say that it is not the case with the homosexual?
It is a perversion if you say to me that a person chooses to be homosexual. You must be crazy to choose a way of life that exposes you to a kind of hatred. It's like saying you choose to be black in a race-infected society.
If God, as they say, is homophobic, I wouldn't worship that God.
