Chris Haw has become a kind of instant friend to our family. When I visited his home, he generously shared rancid corn chips and shamelessly showed me his collection of carpentry tools (which he keeps in the front room). But even better than that was the prayer he offered for our family that night. I’ve since learned that he has a gift for writing these bold and beautiful prayers, and so we hoped he could be with us at the funeral. He drove down from Camden, NJ, mourned with us, then gave us each a kiss on the cheek and prayed:
God of Adam and Eve, you have formed us from the earth, carefully shaping our bodies from the clay. We are miracles with skin–clay that smiles. But miracles are not always complete. Your fishes and loaves got far, but didn’t last forever. Your water into wine was consumed. Our bodies, though imbodied with your life-giving Spirit, are subject to the groaning of creation. Though in our finitude your healing is still present and active.
God of creation: your world is full of life and wondrous mystery. In the joys of birth and sorrows of death, we come into contact with the heartbeat of your glory. You give and you take away, and so we count your people and your little ones as gifts and miracles from your heart, from the Spirit at the center of the universe, and from the center of our lives.