Dante’s Highway
By Brother Stavros
I had a dream some months
ago. It began when I viewed the scene from some heights. A bit like the opening
of American Beauty, or more like riding a drone. I saw an immense crowd
of refugees slowly trudging towards a distant town along a serpentine road.
After a few minutes I found myself among them in the same wretched state: my
clothes in tatters, my feet black from mud and feces that constituted the
boulevard of misery. People of every race and state were moving against the
human current, begging for food or a sip of water.
A welling sigh
turned into a crescendo of a pitiless moan as people looked up and saw thick,
writhing bands of locusts provoking a premature dusk. They descended, leaving
no place to run. They crawled over the human tide, small enough to search every
inch of flesh, every fold of tunic or dress, every veil and turban.
Someone pulled me
by the arm off the road and up the rise of a hill. It was a farmer. He wanted
me to witness the destruction of his farm.
Several bands of
locusts were headed for what passed for a barn and outbuildings. The stored
grain and green leaves were devoured first, like sand spilling through an
hourglass. The farmer was on his knees,
sobbing, “No one can eat now. There is nothing left.”
Covid had not
begun to take its full toll.
Rarely have I had
so horrendous a dream.
Nightmares such as this do not assail me with any
regularity, thank God. The dream is not to herald a message but to expose the
soul to the outrage of what we have done with the gifts, the bounty God gives
us, gifts we have not learned to share or to appreciate.
Each Spring the Church
draws from her storehouse a treasury of prayers that speak to these desperate
times. Let them tamp down the wild fires of rage and frustration, let us hear,
perhaps FOR THE FIRST TIME, the love, mercy, and understanding extended to us as
we make this entreaty on bended knee:
Gracious
and loving Lord, in your holy Gospel we see the overflowing bounty of your care
for us. So now in this time of universal suffering and sorrow among all peoples
of this earth, hear our prayer and listen to our pleading.
Chasten us, merciful
Benefactor, for while the human mind is capable of great things: exploration of
the vastness of space or of the depths of the oceans and the molecular
structure that gives form to everything that is, yet we are brought to our
knees by the tiniest of pathogens. Hear us, Lord, and have mercy. Bless the doctors,
nurses, and support staff on every level; fortify them, bless all their efforts,
and keep them safe from infection, let us pray.
May
this shared trauma keep us humble so that we pay attention to your will,
forsake war, exploitation, and our heedless pursuit of power and domination;
let us curb the pollution of this earth that is our very home. Hear us,
generous Lord, and have mercy.
O Christ our God, now that,
for the common good, we are deprived of using the tactile instincts of our
human family, we contrast your healing touch: the spittle paste for the blind
man, your verbal command that brought Lazarus and the widow’s son back to life;
you raised Peter’s mother-in law from her sickbed, you cared for lepers, and
near Sidon you opened a man’s eyes and freed his tongue, you relieved the woman
with the protracted hemorrhage, and finally you appeared to Thomas and had him
feel the open wounds you sustained on the cross, letting your loving compassion
overcome his fear and disbelief. So now, calm the fear of those who mistrust
the vaccines, or spread cynical motives to those in the scientific community
who have worked selflessly to provide protection from the Covid viruses, a sure
vehicle for your grace.
Mighty Lord, as you are good to us,
so let us be good to one another. As this pandemic takes its dreaded toll, let
us not scapegoat any race or nationality; rather let us find unity in
compassion, along with healing in shared skill and creativity. Send us renewed
determination in the face of the staggering numbers of the afflicted. We
entreat you, O Lord.
In your mercy remember the
great host of souls brought into your heavenly embrace by this disease. Grant
rest to them all, and bring comfort to those they have left behind, and make
their Memory be Eternal.
Christ Jesus, you walked over the waves to bring comfort to your terrified disciples in a fragile boat. So now cross the deep ocean of our indifference. Join us in this storm-tossed craft. Bring us to a safe harbor, sobered and with renewed hope.
Gracious Lord, we are your people; you, the ark of our salvation. Strengthen our faith, take hold of us lest we sink like Peter, or face shipwreck like Paul. Rather, like Noah, bring us safely to rest on the peaks of your Providence.
Lord Jesus Christ, O blest and compassionate divinity, inscrutable yet always revealing yourself to us: Enkindle in our hearts the inspiration of that same holy and good Spirit whom you sent forth upon the apostles and disciples that first Pentecost. Bless us, look graciously on us, and in spite of our frailties fashion us into strong and worthy witnesses to your goodness, so that we may manifest the gifts of your holy Spirit to the entire world.
