I don't have all that many books of prayers. My two favourites are very different. The SPCK Book of Christian Prayer was given to me by the publisher for suggesting several prayers for inclusion. I'm so glad they included the one by George Macleod. It is taken from his diamond of a book, The Whole Earth Shall Cry Glory.
Lord Macleod of Funiary, is one of the jewels in the crown of the Church of Scotland, and the Church in Scotland. The biography by Ron Ferguson is affectionate, detailed, and written by someone who knew Macleod well enough to be fair about his faults, honest about his achievements, and perceptive in understanding a complex, fiery minister who made a virtue of impatience and infused a can do pragmatism with a passionate and immensely obstinate idealism. And in all of that, Macleod was a man of granite spirituality, incapable of being eroded by the lesser ideals of those he believed tolerated social inequality, settled for mediocre Christianity, endorsed nuclear weapons and other blights on God's created order.
And out of that furnace of spiritual ideals and theological vision, like twice refined gold, poured some of the finest prayers in the Scottish tradition. His prayers hewn out of a deep love for language, display awe struck reverence for the holy love of God, heartfelt compassion for human weakness and failing, and a stern compassion that made him a lifelong opponent of social injustice. The keynote of his spirituality and eschatology is distilled into the title of his small book of prayers - the whole earth shall cry glory.
Years ago I spent a couple of days sifting through several boxes of unsorted papers at the National Library of Scotland in Edinburgh. I was looking for his written prayers. He was known to spend longer preparing his prayers for Sunday worship than he did on his sermon. The sermon was the minister speaking to people, the prayers were the minister speaking to and with God, crafting words to articulate in God's presence, the heart of each member of the congregation.
What I found were scraps of paper, many of them handwritten, some typed in red or black or both, every one of them with corrections, scoring outs, phrases inserted; they had all over them the fingerprints of hands calloused by the hard work of praying, and finding words worthy of worship. Several were written on the back of corn flake packets, used envelopes, assorted recycled bills, and receipts - and some were written on real writing paper.
There is something almost impertinent about handling such painstaking drafts of prayers intended for God, and for no other eyes. But the time spent reading, taking notes, trying to trace dates, provenance and context, make this thin book one of the treasures of my library. There are thirty prayers, one a day for a month; then, if you're wise, repeat.
Macleod called Iona a thin place, meaning a place where the veil between heaven and earth had worn thin. His prayers are thin with something of the same quality.
I have written more extensively on George Macleod's prayers. Those interested can find the article online, over on this website.
For now, here is the prayer that was included in the SPCK anthology:
Almighty God, Creator:
In these last days storm has assailed us.
Greyness has enveloped and mist surrounded
our going out and our coming in.
Now again Thy glory clarifies,
Thy light lifts up our hearts to Thee,
and night falls in peace.
But through mist and storm and sunshine,
the crops have ripened here
and vines of Spain have grown.
Thy constant care in all and everywhere is manifest.
Almighty God, Redeemer:
Even as with our bodies, so also with our souls.
Redeemer, Christ:
Sunshine and storm, mist and greyness
eddy round our inner lives.
But as we trace the pattern, looking back,
we know that both darkness and light
have been of Thine ordaining
for our own soul’s health.
Thy constant care in all, and everywhere,
is manifest.
Almighty God, Sustainer:
Sun behind all suns,
Soul behind all souls,
everlasting reconciler of our whole beings:
Show to us in everything we touch and in everyone we meet
the continued assurance of Thy presence round us:
lest ever we should think Thee absent.
In all created things Thou art there.
In every friend we have
the sunshine of Thy presence is shown forth.
In every enemy that seems to cross our path,
Thou art there within the cloud
to challenge us to love.
Show to us the glory in the grey.
Awake for us Thy presence in the very storm
till all our joys are seen as Thee
and all our trivial tasks emerge as priestly sacraments
in the universal temple of Thy love.
Of ourselves we cannot see this. Sure physician give us sight.
Of ourselves we cannot act. Patient lover give us love:
till every shower of rain speaks of Thy forgiveness:
till every storm assures us that we company with Thee:
and every move of light and shadow speaks of grave and resurrection:
to assure us that we cannot die:
Thou creating, redeeming and sustaining God.
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