Greg Asimakoupoulos's Posts (14)

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A May Prayer

May you discover in this month that Easters not a day,
but rather its a way of life by which faith learns to play!
May you experience the joy just knowing Jesus lives!
May you not fear whats still to come but trust a God who gives.
May you determine to give thanks for all thats going right.
May you look past anothers wrong so youll sleep well at night.
May you dust for Gods fingerprints in all that springtime brings:
a flowring shrub, a fragrant rose, the tune a songbird sings.
May you decide to make a friend of someone you dont know.
May you mend frayed relationships although you cannot sew.
May you delight in getting fit by walking every day.
May you eat what is good for you and chart how much you weigh.
May you take time to talk to God and then to contemplate
the ways the Lord has answered prayer with Yes and No and Wait!
May you begin each day this month by reading from Gods Word
and listening expectantly for what the ancients heard.
May you unwrap each day as if the present is a gift.
And may Gods presence grant you peace and give your soul a lift.

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A Christmas Prayer

Almighty One,
we call You Emmanuel (God-with-us)
because of this day.
On this magical morning
(and every Christmas morning)
we attempt to wrap our minds around a mystery
that exceeds our ability to fully understand.


You, who created the world, visited our world as One-with-us.
You, who made the Milky Way, suckled human milk from a virgin's breast.
You, who called the seven seas into existence,
cried salty tears in need of being comforted.
You, who rested on the seventh day of creation,
slept within a feeding trough filled with hay.


On this Christmas Day, we recall the extraordinary strides You took
stepping across time and space in order to experience life-with-us.
Laying aside Your glory,
You clothed Yourself in our skin exposing Yourself to the sin of our making.


And after two-thousand years
the sin of our making continues to manifest itself all around us.
Having endured our human condition, You ache with us, God.

But on those silent nights when Your presence seems absence,
remind us that You personally relate to our plight as we suffer in silence.


Admittedly, while we sing Joy to the World, there is not much joy in our world. Homelessness and hunger, injustice and poverty,
abuse at home and war abroad undermine our joy.

These chronic realities prevent us from experiencing
the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness our founding fathers pictured.

We deck the halls with boughs of holly, but our hearts are draped in despair. Unemployment is rampant. Gun violence is unprecedented.
The political process is demoralizing. Our personal and national debt is on the increase while church attendance is in steady decline.


As much of our nation dreams of a White Christmas,
many of us are dreaming of a day when the moral courage of a beloved black leader would increasingly mark our lives.
Thank You for Nelson Mandela's example of forgiveness,
his pursuit of justice and his championing of human rights.


Yes, today we mark the birthday of the Prince of Peace
even as the death of a peace-loving president continues to occupy our attention.
The global grief surrounding Mandela's passing
reminds us how a single life can alter the course of history.
Jesus did.


So did Moses, Esther, Mohamed, Copernicus, Luther, Lincoln, Gandhi,
Graham, King and Teresa. And we can.


May we honor this day with more than carol-singing, over-eating or gift-giving.
May our presence in this world be the gift that keeps on giving.

In the name of the Christ-child we pray. Amen.

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A Prayer for the Victims' Families


 Lord, once again a trigger squeeze
has brought a city to its knees
as senseless shootings claimed the lives
of those caught unaware.
They left their homes and went to work
without a clue that someone lurked
in that familiar Navy yard
in Washington D.C.
They kissed their mates not knowing that
they never would be coming back.
A Monday just like all the rest
would prove to be their last.
Please comfort these now numbed by grief.
God, You alone can bring relief
to families left to question why
those they loved are gone.
Amen.
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A 9/11 Anniversary Prayer

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A dozen years ago we woke to chilling news that left us broke.
The peace of mind on which we'd banked was stolen in a day.

Four hijacked jets like flying bombs destroyed our apathetic calm
as we collapsed in corporate fear unsure of terror's plans.

We fled to church and joined in prayer. And though such piety seemed rare,
the slogan on our currency called us to trust in God.

And as we think back to that day when friendly skies turned ashen gray,
Lord, we remember those who died and those who saved far more.

Now once again we wring our hands as we try hard to understand
what''s happening in Syria and how we should respond.

When crisis rears its ugly head and hope dissolves to haunting dread,
the most agnostic finds his knees and verbalizes faith.

When terror knocks at freedom's door and we despair at what's in store,
the posture most appropriate is that reserved for prayer.

Lord, as our leaders seek to lead on their behalf we intercede
requesting that their minds be bathed with wisdom birthed by You.

May moral courage guide their hearts as they make choices sure to start
a chain-reaction far from home whose outcome is unclear.

O God, our help in ages past, when votes in Congress have been cast,
remind us You are still in charge and long for worldwide peace.

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A 9/11 Anniversary Prayer

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A dozen years ago we woke to chilling news that left us broke.
The peace of mind on which we'd banked was stolen in a day.

Four hijacked jets like flying bombs destroyed our apathetic calm
as we collapsed in corporate fear unsure of terror's plans.

We fled to church and joined in prayer. And though such piety seemed rare,
the slogan on our currency called us to trust in God.

And as we think back to that day when friendly skies turned ashen gray,
Lord, we remember those who died and those who saved far more.

Now once again we wring our hands as we try hard to understand
what''s happening in Syria and how we should respond.

When crisis rears its ugly head and hope dissolves to haunting dread,
the most agnostic finds his knees and verbalizes faith.

When terror knocks at freedom's door and we despair at what's in store,
the posture most appropriate is that reserved for prayer.

Lord, as our leaders seek to lead on their behalf we intercede
requesting that their minds be bathed with wisdom birthed by You.

May moral courage guide their hearts as they make choices sure to start
a chain-reaction far from home whose outcome is unclear.

O God, our help in ages past, when votes in Congress have been cast,
remind us You are still in charge and long for worldwide peace.

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A Hymn for Our Nation
(tune: Finlandia)
 
Lord of the nations, we pray for our country
with gratitude for how we have been blest.
Your hand of mercy shields us with protection
when we are gripped by terror's countless tests.
Your gracious presence has been our salvation
as acts of violence steal our peace and rest.
 
Lord of the nations, we pray for our country
with knowledge of its willful godless ways.
We are devoid of moral acts and choices
as darkness clouds Your light from each new day.
We seek forgiveness for our many failures
and pray for grace to trust You and obey.
 
Lord of the nations, we pray for our country
with hope our leaders will acknowledge You.
They need Your help to navigate dissension
and strive for unity in all they do.
They need to understand the cost of conflict
and count the toll of righteousness eschewed.
by Greg Asimakoupoulos
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A Prayer for Pope Francis

A Prayer for Pope Francis

Lord, make him an instrument of Your peace.
A shepherd to the lost and least.
A pontiff to the poor and rich,
a pastor to the world.

Where hatred rears its ugly head
may he respond with love instead.
And may he model pardoning
when there is injury.

Where faith’s weak flame is nearly out,
help him discern the source of doubt
and offer hope to those who can’t
because of their despair.

Where darkness reigns both day and night,
help Francis to reflect the Light
who came into our sinful world
that we might see the way.

Where sadness dominates the heart
equip this pope to do his part
and demonstrate the joy of Christ
through actions, words and smiles.

by Greg Asimakoupoulos

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A Presidents' Day Reminder!

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From George to the present
our job's been to pray
for whoever's leading
the U S of A.
 
And so on this Monday
let's ask God to bless
Barack H. Obama
with honest success.
 
Let's pray for our president's
safety and health
and wisdom for taxing
American's wealth.
 
by Greg Asimakoupoulos
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Every Sunday football's faithful
robed in sacred color schemes
chant their praises to the pigskin god on high.
In cathedrals (domed and open)
these devoted fans converge
raising arms (as if in worship) to the sky.

On the field a reenactment
of some ancient sacrifice
calls to mind the gladiator's brute and gore.
With vicarious allegiance
those who look-on
feel the pain as they pray the pigskin god will fix the score.

It's religion pure and simple.
There's a liturgy observed
by the priests with whistles clad in black-and-white.
And the banners they're unfurling
call to mind transgressions made
making clear the cost of penance in plain sight.

The conversion rate is stunning.
New believers fill the seats
as they flock each week to find community.
It's a fellowship like family
where nobody feels alone.
That is why it is their faith's  identity.

What was once a fun amusement
has become idolatry.
Even pastors cancel church for play-off games.
Yes, the Lord's Day has been
tackled and then sidelined (left for dead)
and the worst part is it's
happened without shame.

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Comforted by the Messiah

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Finding Comfort in the Messiah

While playing Handel through the day,
I'm given prompts that help me pray.
Messiah's music comforts me
and penetrates my soul.

The words of Scripture clothed in song
confront the violent acts of wrong
that violate what God intends
and find me floundering.

For in those ancient words I hear
a message most concise and clear
reminding me I'm not alone
in times of dark despair.

Rejoice greatly, daughter of Zion.
Behold your King comes unto thee....

For unto us a Child is born,
unto us a Son is given.
And the government shall be upon His shoulders.
And His name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor. The Mighty God.
The Everlasting Father. The Prince of Peace.

He shall lead His flock like a shepherd....

Surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows....

Hallelujah! For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.
And He shall reign forever and ever
King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Amen!

O death where is thy sting?

by Greg Asimakoupoulos
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God Remains Our Source of Courage

God remains our source of courage
when we're traumatized by terror.
When we're haunted by the headlines
and the violence everywhere.
Hear God whisper in the silence,
"Don't despair, I’m in control.
Hurting hearts and broken cities
will at last one day be whole."
 
God can feel the pain of suffering
when our hearts leak like a sieve.
When our children in a classroom
are denied their right to live.
Then God whispers in the silence,
"Since I lost my only Son,
I can comfort grieving parents
till my Kingdom fully comes."
 
God invites us to be trusting
when we find that faith is hard.
When we’re fearful for our safety
and our nerves are frayed or jarred.
Still God whispers in the silence,
"Even when your faith is weak,
I will keep your feet from stumbling
when your way is dark and bleak."
(tune: What a Friend We Have in Jesus)
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Slaughter of Innocence (Revisited)

Slaughter of Innocence (Revisited)

Emmanuel (God-with-us), why? Is it Your will that children die?
That fear surprise our trusting hearts
and keep our faith at bay?

Of course we know that's not Your plan.
But ever since the world began
it seems that evil stalks its prey
and steals our peace and joy.


Please help us find the means to cope
amid this season of true hope
that calls to mind You came to earth
to know our grief and pain.

In Newtown or in Bethlehem
where Herod-madness strikes again,
may Rachel's tears be wiped away
by One who weeps with us.

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The Master's Weekend

Recalling a comeback of cosmic proportions

It appeared as though there would be no green jacket for the Master this time.
No green palm fronds either (for that matter).
By now they were brittle and brown, crumpled on Jerusalem's cobblestone streets.
Had the previous Sunday parade been merely a charade?
One couldn't help but wonder.

The customary fairway had given way to rough
treatment that was totally out of character and totally out of bounds.
The Master's scratch handicap had been replaced
by scars and stripes inflicted by those whose sinful nature he willingly embraced.

As the gallery watched, the Master stumbled through his round.
His stance betrayed his discomfort.
Noticeably off balance, he swung
the shaft of the cross.
Awkwardly grazing the ground, it fell (as did he).

A bystander was pressed into service quite unexpectedly.
The inexperienced caddy carried the Master's wood
while he limped in a forward direction
wedged between a twosome of condemned players
who had not survived the cut.

The Master, in obvious pain, found a smile for his few followers
while grimacing at the leaders.
Ignoring the marshals' calls to be quiet,
the large disappointed crowd desecrated the silence with rude remarks.

The Master bent low trying to read the break he'd been denied.
What had been a "gimmie" before had become a "why me?"
Feeling forsaken, the Master scanned the sky (eagle eyed)
hoping (in vain) for divine intervention.
But none was forthcoming.

Having given it his best shot,
he'd reached the end of his round (fully spent).
He finished his course and he'd kept the faith.
In the process, however, he'd humbled himself.
The Master (humiliated) hung his head motionlessly.
Removed from the viewing area by his handlers,
he was written off as a failure.
His reputation was immediately buried
by analysts and pundits who attested to his demise.

But, those who claimed to know it all
didn't seem to know the Master's weekend was far from over.
After all, Sunday's final round was yet to be played.

The last day of the event began without fanfare.
By the dawn's early light the arrogant leaders enjoyed a leisurely breakfast,
grateful the Master was no longer a contender.
With premature pride they proceeded to retrieve their sticks
(and stones) with which they had humbled the crowd favorite earlier in the weekend.

But as the mist evaporated and the fog lifted, something was amiss.
The course was significantly different from what the leaders had anticipated.
The Master (given up for dead the day before) was back.
Furthermore, he was unstoppable.
His recognizable form left little doubt why he would not be beaten.

With obvious wounds in his ungloved hand,
the Master waved to those who surrounded the hole
from which the flag (and the stone) had been removed.

Yes, it was a comeback of cosmic proportions.
The Master reclaimed his green jacket after all.
In a blaze of glory, wearing his coveted blazer of righteousness,
Jesus inscribed his name in the history book, defeating death once and for all.

The score had been settled.
His signed card had been verified.

Christ is risen!
He is risen, indeed!

by Greg Asimakoupoulos (@ 2012)
* The Master's Weekend is dedicated to Pastor Glen D. Cole who died unexpectedly on February 14, 2012 in Sacramento. Glen was my friend and mentor. He loved golf almost as much as he loved his Savior and his family.

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Remembering 9/11 Ten Years Later

 Where were you on September 11, 2001? That’s a question the vast majority of Americans can easily answer. On that unforgettable Tuesday morning I was driving to work listening to the radio. The announcer interrupted the music and read a news bulletin. First reports indicated a small single-engine plane had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. Subsequent reports brought the fuzzy news story into fearful focus. We were a nation under attack.

 

The magnitude of the tragedy soon became unimaginable. Thousands of lives had been lost. Tens of thousands had been personally impacted. The skyline of New York City had been altered beyond recognition. What was worse, our enemy was unknown. Subsequent attacks were possible. As a result, airports across the country closed down for the better part of a week. Churches opened their doors for spontaneous prayer services. There was a renewed sense of patriotism and dependence on God independent of party lines or religious affiliation.

 

Although the sudden fervor of faith faded as our nation regained its emotional balance, a haunting fear has dogged us for the past decade.  National security remains on most everyone’s mind. The increase in terroristic activity overseas as well as the senseless mass-shootings in our country has left us feeling vulnerable.

 

The tenth anniversary of September 11th provides us with an opportunity to remember how quick we were willing to turn to God a decade ago. This sad milestone causes us to recall the fragility of life and fleeting nature of peace. It is an invitation to reflect and listen to what our Creator is attempting to say to us in the midst of daily headlines that rob our sense of confidence.

 

We all reflect and listen differently. Some meditate in silence. Some brush paint on an empty canvas. Others journal their inmost thoughts. Still others go on a contemplative walk in nature.  My preference is to write poetry. As the anniversary of 9/11 approached, I put pen to paper reminded that God holds us securely even when the slippery fingers of our faith find hanging on to hope difficult.

 

Since September 11th is on a Sunday, local clergy can use the following poem as a congregational hymn. (Suggested tunes: “Ode to Joy” and “What a Friend We Have in Jesus”)

 

God remains our source of courage when we're traumatized by terror.
When we're haunted by the headlines and the violence everywhere.
Hear God whisper in the silence, "Don't despair, I'm in control.
Hurting hearts and broken cities will at last one day be whole."

God recalls that tragic Tuesday when twin towers disappeared,
when three thousand people perished and our hearts were numbed by fear.
Yet God whispers ten years later, "Justice will in time be done.
I will stand with those who need me 'till my Kingdom fully comes."

God invites us to be trusting when we find that faith is hard.
When we're fearful for our safety and our nerves are frayed or jarred.
Still God whispers in the silence, "Even when your faith is weak,
I will keep your feet from stumbling when your way is dark and bleak."

An ancient Hebrew poet composed a hymn for an insecure nation that offers a similar theme. You don’t know the tune, but it’s likely you know the words.

 

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.” (Psalm 46:1-2 NIV)

 

 

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