In the wake of my town’s recent tragedy I was asked to lead a prayer at the candlelight vigil. I was honored by the invitation, since I’d been the chaplain on-scene after the accident and wanted to continue to walk with folks in those first stages of grief. I was also cognizant that this was a non-sectarian event. I’m a Christian pastor. Folks in the crowd may not have been religious at all, much less Christian. It’s a tricky needle to thread, being true to who I am while also respecting others and helping folks process their grief. I’ve seen pastors either assume everyone shares their beliefs or, worse, try to become revival preachers. It annoys me, so I try to be careful.

I wasn’t going to share this prayer, because this isn’t my story, but someone asked me if I was putting it anywhere and that changed my mind. So here it is.

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Let us pray.

Lord, in times of grief we cry out to you to light the way of hope and to grant us comfort in our distress. Today, as our community is anguished over Matthew’s death, we come to you again.

It doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t seem real. And so we ask for both comfort and resolve.

Comfort in our distress and dis-ease as our hearts wrestle with grief and our bodies shake with anguish.

Comfort when we feel overwhelmed by sorrow to the point where we find even simple tasks difficult.

Comfort when anger becomes the only response we can manage, and we don’t understand why.

And comfort whenever we are reminded of Matthew, and his absence, in times of celebration or the places he loved.

In all this, and more, Lord, we pray for resolve.

Resolve to keep on loving others, and allowing ourselves to be loved.

Resolve to embrace a difficult truth, that the only resolution of grief is to allow its wave to drive us where it will.

Resolve to understand that laughter is as much a part of grief as tears.

And resolve to accept that, when joy comes again, embracing it honors Matthew’s memory.

Be with us in this journey where it feels as though grief may drown us. And may we find healing as we obey the age old command, “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Amen.