The priest says, "Almighty God.. from whom no secrets are hid."
We rush to the next phrase but now linger there.
We are rich conundrums of secrets,
we weave a pattern of lies in order to be well thought of,
we engage in subterfuge about our truth.
We carry old secret too painful to utter,
too shameful to acknowledge,
too burdensome to bear,
of failures we cannot undo,
of alienations we regret but cannot fixof grandiose exhibits we cannot curb,
and you know them,
you know them all.
And so we take a deep sigh in your presence,
no longer needing to pretend and cover up and deny.
We mostly do not have big sins to confess,
only modest shames that do not fit our hoped-for selves.
And then we find that your knowing is more powerful than our secrets.
you know and do not turn away,
and our secrets that seemed too powerful
are emptied of strength,
secrets that seemed too burdensome
are now less severe.
We marvel that when you find us out
you stay with us,
taking us seriously,
taking our secrets soberly,
but not ultimately,
overpowering our little failure
with your massive love
and abiding patience.
We long to be fully, honesly
exposed to your gaze of gentleness.
In the moment of your knowing
we are eased and lightened,
and we feel the surge of joy move in our bodies,
because we are not ours in cringing
but yours in communion.
We are yours and find the truth before you
makes us free for
wonder, love and praise - and new life.
Bruggeman, W.
Prayers of a Privileged People
