Frank Carpenter


Prayer is a silence.
A moment of silence
before going out the door;
An opening before a full day -
a new day.
Prayer is a demand,
A loud, muffled moment of desolation;
A bitter, lonely, anguished cry for help,
A refusal of help
A resentment for needing to ask,
A fear of just plain being in need.
Prayer is a harvest dance,
A thankfulness of food, shelter and children,
of light within and sun without
of beauty.
A humble gratefulness for friends and God.
But do I know what prayer is?
Can I ever know how to pray,
to accept the changes which are the answers
to my prayers?
I pray so I can learn how to pray.
For I do not know how.
I simply know that I can live my life only through prayer.
I pray to remind myself that I am not God.
When God does not exist,
I invent some God to have someone to pray to,
bow down before --
so that I may know how safe it is for me to be so small.
To pray is to ask if I may touch your face.



Ministry takes place variously, sometimes seen; often unseen. It is not just pulpit presence. The tree commemorated here ministered to the founder of American Unitarianism and was long forgotten. We minister to one another, shelter one another, in many ways. Times spent over a cup of coffee sharing our experience, strength and hope leave no record but in memory. Late night phone calls and long drives to UU gatherings leave their invisible imprint on the heart. And how often do we take pictures of ourselves sitting at a Board meeting, or at a long range planning meeting, or a capital fund drive meeting with a potential consultant? But, we do take pictures of a tree commemoration.

A minister can also be in a unique situation to aid the fund raising of the church: he can provide his services for marriage renewals at a service auction.
Frank Carpenter