for Palm Sunday, year A

This prayer, if used in public worship, invites two or more readers. Italics suggest where to switch, but please adapt and tweak freely to fit your context.
—-
Living One, you are good.
Your loyal compassion endures
all creation’s history and all yet unfolding.

We love you; we do not always trust you.
We would give ourselves to follow you;
we are not prepared for how it hurts.

You are good.
Your loyal compassion endures all things,
stretches into ages before us, beyond us.

We hurt each other; we hide our hearts.
We are closed and open.

You are good; Your loyal compassion endures.

In our land, prisoners groan: people we say we see
as equals.

You alone are good.
Your loyal compassion endures all things.

In Pakistan, one hundred sixty-eight children killed by U.S. drones.
Or two hundred two; we have only estimates.

You are good.
Your loyal compassion endures.

A Jew, a teacher from the sticks of Galilee
comes in on a bumpy ride, stopping and starting.

The buzz around him, a swarm of bees,
fire in a thicket.

God, were you weeping already
with broad leaves swaying in the city’s heat?
Did your Spirit groan under every step
of donkey and man, heavy on cloak and palm,
under shout and song?

O Christ, we are never ready
for the moment the crowd turns.

I cried to you with my spirit on edge;
Your answer was to set me free.

YHWH, You are good.
Your loyal compassion endures.

And what can we do with your anger?
And what should we do with our own?
We are bystanders, dove-sellers, money-changers,
the temple guard.

We are here. We are not ready, but we are here.

You kneel with pitcher and bowl.
You kneel in the olive grove.
Our stomachs are clenching, and it is night.
Forgive us if we turn away
to warm ourselves and stare into the fire.