God our Father, in the long march of peoples crossing the land of shadows, we come
to you, in convergence, to give you thanks.
Amazed to have seen a light rise for humanity,
amazed at the whisper of hope in our hearts, we give you thanks.
For the dawn that tears through the cloak of night, for the wheat
that sprouts and cracks the earth, we give you thanks.
For the silence that awakens praise in our hearts,
for the people you visit with your tenderness, we give you thanks.
Lord, we love to remember Mary of the Magnificat, the freedom of her song, the rightness of her
presence among her people, in her time, before her God… Mary who, on behalf of all the poor of all
times, refuses any fullness other than that of man living according to the promise of
happiness that comes to him from his God.
Allow us to resemble her, in faith, in hope and love, in action and
thanksgiving, through Jesus, the Prince of Peace.
Lord, because she is attentive to the breath of your Spirit, Mary is always on the side of the future,
on the side of hope. Grant that we too may be ready for the new things that you
are bringing to the horizon of our history and our lives.
At the rendezvous of the newness of your Creative Spirit who comes to give us without measure your Son,
Jesus, the Emmanuel, Lord of all time.
Fighting against the spirit of evil, following you, Jesus, Lord,
means choosing humble gestures of brotherhood.
You who took upon yourself what hurts and divides us
and knelt down to wash our feet…
Fighting against the spirit of evil
is also welcoming a new perspective
to see the paths of hope that are opening up,
to see the signs of tenderness at the very heart of atrocities
that enable life to prevail.
May your Holy Spirit enable us
to hear the new Word, the Word of your promise
of a new heaven and a new earth for today!
This promise will surely be fulfilled in Jesus, the Emmanuel.
Everything speaks to us of your faithfulness, Lord:
The day that follows the night,
The rainbow in the clouds after the rain,
A new shoot on a withered stump,
The birth of a child…
You ensure that the Hope of the world never dies.
But we have unfaithful memories,
we so often forget your blessings.
Where violence and war rage, let your Sun of Justice rise.
After denial and doubt,
let the rainbow of your Peace shine in our hearts.
Our contrasting world, our old, worn-out world,
shaken by so many crises, will it die or give birth?
May the Child come, Lord, the Prince of Peace,
and may the Hope of the world be reborn through Him.
Lord,
like a bud that opens from within when a ray of sunshine falls on it,
so is your love in our lives.
And even if we are weary and tired, discouraged by the onslaught of trials,
when we feel like saying, ‘Enough is enough!’,
Your word of covenant is always there, like a night light,
like a small opening that gives us a glimpse of the horizon of a new morning.
Your word of covenant, like a force of recreation and mercy,
help us to welcome it, now and in the depths of our lives. Amen.
Lord,
hear our voice as we pray that you will instil in the hearts of all people
the wisdom of peace,
the determination for justice,
the demand for brotherhood.
Hear our voice when it echoes the multitudes
who, in every country and under every sky, do not want war
and are ready to walk the path of peace and reconciliation.
May we too be ready,
and for this we ask you, with the power of the Spirit,
for the courage to disarm our hearts.
Hear our voices, Father, and in them, the voice of Jesus.
Through Him, grant peace to the world,
in this time and for eternity.
Mary knew how to watch,
as so many women know how to watch,
keeping everything in their hearts
and never resigning themselves to the inevitable,
hoping against all hope.
May Mary’s prayer help us, too,
to refuse to put an end to things
when everything seems wounded and hopeless.
May we watch with her
for the coming of the new world,
which is the world of resurrection,
already here and still to come.
In the name of Jesus, our First Brother…
Lord,
with so many others we are going…
simple pilgrims on your paths,
rooted and yet always departing,
torn between reality and the dream of the absolute,
always amazed to experience the power of this faint breath
that carries us,
useless servants,
happy in grace,
carrying praise in our hearts.
