God of all time and space,
our elders have faithfully shared with us
the stories of your great works of old -
  splitting the sea,
  manna in the morning,
  water from the rock,
but frankly they seem to me
words for another time, another world.
And today the fathers eat the sour grapes
   of violence and war,
   of greed and political and financial manipulation,
and the children die of injury or hunger.
And even though I try to hear and trust the words of John, 
the time of your peace seems to be receding more than arriving.
Teach me your ways for these days,
show me your paths,
that I might walk in them and not be ashamed.