Category Archives: Uncategorized

It is my practice that I am off the grid during vacation, except for pastoral crises.

World, this is a pastoral crisis.

Last Sunday, I preached on Galatians 5. Today, I need to hear the words I preached last week.
There is evil in the world, beloved ones. Be careful not to add to it.
But the spirit of God is working among us, and the fruit of the spirit is love.

Find the love, everyone, and help it grow. That is our call.

Breathe deeply. Do not add to the hatred. Help the love grow.

In a “normal” pastoral crisis, I sit vigil with the grieving or hurting people. I wait with them. I pray with them. I lament with them. I listen to them. I hold their hands and point to the faithfulness of God.

So today, I do those things with the world. For the family of Alton Sterling. For the family of Philando Castile. For the family the Dallas officers whose names have not been released. For your family. For my family. For every family, and for everyone without a family.

Find someone to sit with you, to wait with you, to pray with you, to lament with you. Find someone to listen to you, and listen to someone. Find someone to point to the faithfulness of God.

Breathe deeply. Do not add to the hatred, and help the love grow.

This prayer was written for worship at Central Presbyterian Church on April 24, 2016, as we celebrate Care for Creation Sunday. 

---

Hear these words from Revelation 21:6.

“It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.”

Let us bring our prayers before the mother of all creation, the spring of the water of life.

Holy One, Holy Three, mother of all creation:

We give you thanks for who you are,

who you have been,

and who you promise forever to be.

Yours is the womb of all life.

Yours is the fountain of living water.

Yours is the voice that breaks down walls.

Yours is the love that cannot be contained.

 

For the thirsty, you give the water of life.

For the hungry, you offer the bread of heaven.

For the weak, you carry our heavy burdens.

For the joyful, you shout in holy laughter.

For the anxious, you pray showers of peace.

For the suffering, you breathe sighs of comfort.

For the earth, you send winds of creation.

 

As we pray for the new heaven and new earth, O God,

We give thanks for this earth, our partner in your service.

Forgive our abuse of the creation you called good,

And make us worthy stewards of the world around us.

Move us to hear your voice in the song of sparrow,

To see your face reflected in the river.

Empower us to feel your grace in sand between our toes,

To smell your peace in the mist of morning dew.

Enlighten us to hear your prophets in the croaks of evening frogs,

To read your gospel in the webs of writing spiders.

 

Just as you called your apostles into a holy bond,

You have called this church to care for one another.

We pray for those in this congregation in special need this day:

 

[List prayer concerns specific to your congregation.]

 

Yours is the womb of all life, O God.

Yours is the fountain of living water.

Yours is the voice that breaks down walls.

Yours is the love that cannot be contained.

Amen.

The God of Easter be with you.

And also with you.

People of Easter, lift up your hearts!

We lift them up to the Lord.

People of Easter, give thanks to the One who raises us to new life.

It is right to give God thanks and praise.

 

God of Easter, we give you thanks for life:

Life born in waters of creation,

Life drawn from the dust of the earth,

Life molded from the clay of your wheel,

Life stitched in the womb of a woman.

Today we remember that death does have the final word,

For yours is life beyond our imagination.

 

God of Easter, we give you thanks for new life:

New life, that speaks truth in love to the old,

New life that overflows with grace,

New life that teaches us how to live,

New life that beckons us to respond in faithfulness.

Today we remember that sin does not have the final word,

For yours is grace beyond our imagination.

 

God of Easter, we give you thanks for life:

For the lives of the faithful who have come before us,

Prophets who pointed to your love and justice,

Saints who taught us to how to be broken,

Christ who showed us how to be whole.

Today we remember that resurrection has the final word,

For ours is a story of an empty tomb.

 

God of life,

Breathe life into us again today,

and breathe your Holy Spirit into these gifts of bread and wine,

that they may be for us the body and blood of the Risen Christ.

As we join in this joyful feast with the faithful across all time and place,

Join us also with you and with one another,

that we may be the body of Christ in the world.

 

Through Christ, with Christ, in Christ,

All glory is yours, now and forever more.

Amen.

During Advent, many churches mark the season by lighting candles on an Advent wreath at the beginning of worship each week. These litanies were written for Central Presbyterian Church in Advent 2014. Many thanks to the congregants who were my co-writers and conversation partners in forming these litanies.

As we enter the season of Advent, may these prayers remind you of hope, peace, joy, and love of our God.

 

Advent 1:

We live in the presence of God,

God who creates, sustains, renews.

God’s presence is often hidden from us,

Or maybe we are too busy to notice.

Be revealed to us, O God.

Surprise us with your presence, O Spirit.

Move us to see you, to hear you, O Christ.

May this candle remind us to keep awake:

To watch for God’s presence revealed in our midst.

As we light our first advent candle,

We remind one another to live in holy hope: eager anticipation of encounters with God.

God who is hidden, be revealed.

Come, O come Emmanuel!

 

Advent 2:

We live in the beginning of the good news,

The good news of forgiveness through our Lord Jesus Christ.

We live in the middle of the wilderness,

and we await the presence of the Lord.

May this candle enlighten us in our darkness, that we may know God’s peace in our midst.  

May this candle illumine our path, that we may see the way of the Lord.

God who is hidden, be revealed.

Come, O Come, Emmanuel.

 

Advent 3:

We live in a world that hates to wait, and we celebrate a season of waiting.

We live in a world that loves bad news, and we preach good news to one another.

In the midst of despair, we lit a candle of hope.

In the midst of violence, we lit a candle of peace.

In the midst of sadness, we light a candle of joy.

May this candle remind us that God’s joy is coming, on earth as it is in heaven.

May we live with joy that is deeper than happiness: joy that is rooted in the love of our God.

God who is hidden, be revealed.

Come, O Come, Emmanuel!

 

Advent 4:

“The Lord is with you!” the angel said, and Mary responded, “Here am I.”

“You shall bear a son,” the angel said, and Mary responded, “Let it be.”

May the grace of faith bestowed on Mary come to us as well.

“He will be great,” the angel said, “and the Son of the Most High.”

“He will reign,” the angel said, “with a kingdom that has no end.”

As we light the candle of Love, we hope for the reign of God in our midst.

May we rejoice like Mary in a hope for justice still to come.

God who is hidden, be revealed.

Come, O Come, Emmanuel!

 

Christmas Eve 

I bring you good news of great joy!

To you is born this day a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord.

God who was hidden has been revealed.

Emmanuel has come!

You will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.

God who was hidden has been revealed.

Emmanuel has come!

As we light the Christ candle, we watch for God breaking into our world this day.

God has come and God is coming.

God who is hidden, be revealed.

Come, all ye faithful, and worship God!

All Saints Day is one my favorite traditions in liturgical churches. It is an occasion to remember the faithful who have died in the past year, commend their spirits to God, and celebrate that we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses. Below is a Great Prayer of Thanksgiving written for use on All Saints Day, with a place to include the names of loved ones who have died in the past year. May it remind you of the everlasting, boundary-breaking, community-forming love of our God.

 

The Lord be with you. And also with you.

Lift up your hearts. We lift them up to the Lord.

Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.

It is right to give our thanks and praise.

 

Thanks and praise to you, O God,

creator and lover of the universe.

You created all that was;

you nurture all that is;

you imagine all that will be.

You are the pattern of community,

three-in-one God of mercy.

From the beginning of time,

you have created us for relationship:

relationship with one another,

relationship with the earth,

and relationship with you.

 

When we reject your call to community,

when we choose isolation over partnership

and brokenness over healing,

you call us back, again and again

with words of grace and songs of repentance.

 

We give you thanks for Jesus Christ,

our host and our guest at this table.

Through his birth, you took on flesh,

affirming the goodness of our bodies and our world.

Through his life, you took on suffering,

teaching the truth of hope in desperation.

Through his death, you took on death,

revealing the depth of your love for us.

Through his resurrection, you brought new creation,

sharing the truth of life everlasting.

 

Pour out your holy spirit upon us, O God,

and upon these gifts of fruit and grain.

Make them for us your body and spirit,

that we may taste your presence in our midst.

 

This is the joyful feast of the Lord:

a taste of the heavenly banquet to come.

We remember that we are not alone at this table,

for we join our voices with saints across all time and place,

who forever sing your praise:

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord, God of power and might.

Heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest!

 

We remember, O God, the saints who join us at the table,

and we commend their spirits to you:

(Read the names of people in your community who have died this year, leaving room for silence between each name. You may choose to ring a bell after each name.)

 

This is the joyful feast of the Lord:

a taste of the heavenly banquet to come.

We remember that we are not alone at this table,

for we join our voices with saints across all time and place,

who forever sing your praise:

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord, God of power and might.

Heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest!

 

On the night of his betrayal, Jesus shared a meal with friends.

He took bread and, after giving thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying,

“This is my body, broken for you. Take. Eat. Do this in remembrance of me.”

In the same manner, he took the cup, and he filled it, saying,

“This is the cup of the new covenant, sealed for you for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink of it, do this in remembrance of me.”

Whenever we eat this bread and drink this cup,

we proclaim the saving life, death, and resurrection of our Lord, until he comes again.

 

Amen. 

 

 

Mark 15:25-38

²⁵It was nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him. ²⁶The inscription of the charge against him read, ‘The King of the Jews.’ ²⁷And with him they crucified two bandits, one on his right and one on his left.²⁹Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying, ‘Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, ³⁰save yourself, and come down from the cross!’ ³¹In the same way the chief priests, along with the scribes, were also mocking him among themselves and saying, ‘He saved others; he cannot save himself. ³²Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe.’ Those who were crucified with him also taunted him.

33 When it was noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. ³⁴At three o’clock Jesus cried out with a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ ³⁵When some of the bystanders heard it, they said, ‘Listen, he is calling for Elijah.’ ³⁶And someone ran, filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink, saying, ‘Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down.’ ³⁷Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. ³⁸And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. 

I could take you to the seat of my 7^th grade classroom where I first saw footage of the twin towers falling. I can tell you exactly what I was wearing when I got in a bad car accident, and I will never forget the date that a high school friend died in a house fire.

When something traumatic happens, you remember the details, even when you would rather forget.

“It was nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him.”

Sometimes, I would rather forget the crucifixion story. I would rather skip from Palm Sunday to Easter; move straight from “Hosanna!” to “Christ is Risen!” without walking through the mess in between. No need to drag out the gory details.

The haunting details.

The holy details.

“It was nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him.”

Mark’s story is dripping with details that beg us to slow down, to pay attention, to bear the weight of this heavy, holy story.

I can just picture it.

The sight of darkness all across the land.

The smell of sour wine on a sponge on a stick.

The sound of a jeering, taunting crowd,

and those uncomfortable last words: “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus’ last words here are not a pronouncement of forgiveness, not a prediction of his resurrection. Jesus’ last words are ones of deep suffering.

I think we would rather forget that detail; we would rather imagine a Jesus who was a bit more divine than human; a Jesus who did not know what meant to feel forsaken.

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

If we admit that Jesus asked that question, we might have to admit that we have asked it, too.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus cries out in his dying moment, but the words are not his own.

The phrase comes from Psalm 22, a psalm of lament.

In Jesus’ moment of deep despair, he has no original words to say; he has no parables about the reign of God, no teachings, no miracles. When he has no strength to speak, Jesus leans on the words of his tradition. In his moment of deepest need, Jesus turns to the psalms.

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

His answer is buried in the question.

Where is God in the crucifixion?

Where is God in our moments of deep suffering?

God is there, in the words psalm 22.

God is there, in the language of our faith.

God is there, in the depths of human despair.

God is there in the holy, haunting details,

and God will be there in the empty tomb.

Holy God, Jesus came to proclaim good news–news of hope, joy, and justice for all.

We live in that good news, and we celebrate the glimpses of your reign in our midst. We give thanks for everyday moments of grace: the splash of rain that reminds us we are claimed, the touch of a neighbor’s hand that warms our deepest cold, the sounds of laughter, singing, and silence, that seem to carry the voice of your Spirit.

Jesus came came to proclaim good news, but he came in the midst of bad news.

As we remember the joy and hope of your promises, we pray for places in our lives and in our world where sadness, worry, and illness cast a dark shadow. 

Jesus said, “Come, follow me,” and the disciples dropped their nets.

May we hear those simple words again, and may we come, just as we are.

May we have the faith to believe that we are good enough, strong enough, brave enough–that we are enough to be loved and called by you. 

Amen.