All of the sudden, the church year is ending. The world is turning again. We sang this song in worship last Sunday and I’m carrying this refrain with me as I try to believe that the world is about to turn.

For the first time, in what feels like a very long time, I’m sitting down to write liturgy for the whole season of Advent. My new pastor at the sweet ELCA church that is our new church home has asked me to help with imagining what it would look like to create something around storytelling.

I’m finding that nothing I’ve written before, or at least nothing that I saved, quite fits for a time like this. I’m stumbling over words and wondering how we might tell our stories right now, or even how the characters at the center of the Advent story might have told their stories so long ago. My new pastor has chosen to focus on four different stories from the first few chapters of Matthew and Luke, namely Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary and Joseph.

Some of the worship elements will repeat. Some will be slightly tweaked to reflect the story of that particular week but the hope is that the way we are structuring worship will allow the gathered body of Christ to turn to each other and tell some small part of their story. It feels risky but so important.

Worship will begin each Sunday with a call to worship inspired from the central story, noting that where stories begin is often precarious. Here is how that invitation sounds in the first week, beginning to explore Zechariah’s story and our own.

In the days of Herod of Judea, 
this expectant story begins,
continuing the tale that the  
messengers had first imagined.
Come Lord, Jesus. 

We come to find ourselves 
in that story, imagining how
it all unfolded then. How it began
with an old man’s fear, only
to notice our own anxiety.
Come Lord, Jesus.

In these days, here and now,
we pray for a way through 
our stories. To notice what
that fear calls out in us 
so that we can find 
our way into that promise.
Come Lord, Jesus.

Each week is crafted around a full story arc, mirroring an exercise that some members of the church shared as part of the strategic campaign. We notice what is hardest and most challenging before the story turns. Advent is a time when the story is still unwritten. It’s still being crafted, even though we might know how the story ends. It feels vital to call upon God, asking for the Spirit to move into our stories as happens for Zechariah.

Here, in this moment,
in this place where your people 
have gathered to remember 
how it happened so long ago, 
fill us with your Holy Spirit.
We want to believe that
we are righteous, like Zechariah 
and Sarah, so that we might too 
sing of the amazing things 
that come when you, O God,
fill us with your Holy Spirit.
But we struggle with the verb tense.
all of those things happened so long ago
and we are not sure how your story
is being told now. O God, we need
your spirit, when that fear and trembling
pushes us further and further 
from your love and hope.
Come, O God, 
fill us with your Holy Spirit.

There will, of course, need to be some candle lighting. This one is unlike anyone I’ve ever written before as it has nothing to do with finding hope, peace, love and joy. It has everything to do with story and how we find ourselves in the thrust of transformation, concluding with a familiar tune that Bruce will not be featured in (sadly).

From the fear that stops us
from telling how it really is,
halting our speech so that nothing 
is said of your wonder
even as each of our stories
move through this great story
where love is born again.
O God, ignite us with your hope.
Through the uncertainty 
that we will ever get through 
the middle of the story,
where we struggle to take hold 
of your this promise
and tell it as part of our truth.
O God, spark our attention in this tiny light.
To see that glimmer of your love 
shining in the corners of our doubt
so that hope kindles a whole
new story of your mercy and grace
born again in our ordinary lives. 
O God, let our light shine.

I’m still working on some of the middle elements, though I think they are almost ready to upload to the fancy church software this tiny church has for bulletin creation. Wow. I made one tiny request that we end with the children dancing because, well, we can. This is something we are going to do every week with streamers. This final blessing leads to that joy, and I hope more joy in all the stories that have been shared.

Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
Zechariah sang. God has looked upon
you and your whole story with delight.
May you, like the Child he blesses,
feel strong in spirit. May God’s blessing
surround you and your whole unfolding
story as you dance, along with the children,
into all that God hopes for this world, 
and each and every one of you.


I would love to hear how you're entering into this season. What stories are you carrying? What story feels important to tell right now? And most of all, where is God in all of these stories? 

I hope and pray your world is about to turn into wonder.