Prayers and Curses

On the following day, when they came from Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to see whether perhaps he would find anything on it. When he came to it, he found nothing but leaves, for it was not the season for figs. He said to it, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And his disciples heard it.

Then they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling and those who were buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves; and he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. He was teaching and saying, “Is it not written,

‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’?
But you have made it a den of robbers.”

And when the chief priests and the scribes heard it, they kept looking for a way to kill him; for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching. And when evening came, Jesus and his disciples went out of the city.

In the morning as they passed by, they saw the fig tree withered away to its roots. Then Peter remembered and said to him, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree that you cursed has withered.” Jesus answered them, “Have faith in God. Truly I tell you, if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and if you do not doubt in your heart, but believe that what you say will come to pass, it will be done for you. So I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.

“Whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone; so that your Father in heaven may also forgive you your trespasses.” Mark 11:12-26

Prayers and Curses - A Morning Song

Twisted inside with fear and rage
we wrap tight the small hurts
we cling to the ancient betrayals
inflicting our pain on yet others.

Let us unbind the weary sorrowing

let us untie ourselves from our pain

burning the remnants with sage

lifting our faces to forgiveness.

A long ago childhood memory
becomes the seeds of savage revenge
our losses so unresolved and deep
become the beds where we find no rest.

Let us unbind the weary sorrowing
let us untie ourselves from our pain
burning the remnants with sage
lifting our faces to forgiveness.

When blinded by this kind of ache
we can snare the wretched unsuspecting
we can recapture the tortured souls
and tear up their gentle eternity.

Let us unbind the weary sorrowing

let us untie ourselves from our pain

burning the remnants with sage

lifting our faces to forgiveness.