Pandemic Prayers for Proper 14

This gorgeous reflection on 1 Kings 19:9-18 by Richard W. Swanson has got me thinking about silence. Silence feels all consuming right now. There is so much of it. Or, at least, there is for me.

We live on the edge of the desert now. It is so quiet. I almost never see or hear my neighbors. There is just silence. Even when I leave the house, there is only the sound of the air conditioner humming through the vents in my car mingled with the sounds of my children and whatever might be on the radio. We don’t go to restaurants to hear the clatter of silverware and the gentle buzz of conversation. We don’t even go into stores to hear other children crying or music I didn’t select on the intercom. There is no laughter of friends that isn’t by FaceTime. It is silent. Is that familiar? Or is there more noise in your pandemic life than there is in mine?

My sweet Texas church is leading a series through some favorite hymns this month. Worship is full of music and I confess that I like that it gives me a song to sing, but is hat because I’m uncomfortable with the silence that consumes every other hour? Can you even have meaningful, meditative silence in online worship? How might that silence speak to parents, to school children or to aging adults who just want to know that they can be buried in the church they love and have a ‘normal’ funeral? What does that silence say in the midst of protests, mask fights and hurricane winds? Is it a silence that both crushes and encourages you?

Gathering Together

There are so many things that jump out to me in these ancient words. So many phrases that spark curiosity and wonder. Words that seem particularly for this moment: seek God’s presence continually, battered by the waves, descend into the abyss, here comes this dreamer, he went there alone, wind was against them.

Could worship begin with that wind?

Would we find it relaxing? Would it call us to attention? Would we feel more alert in watching waves crash?

Could even a short 30 second clip lead us into worship? Here are two possible invitations to follow this silence of the natural world.

Call to Worship
Inspired by 1 Kings 19:9-18, this translation

Look:
the God Whose Name is Mercy
is in the silence
and the trees/waves,
and your own breath
sighing into this space
where the world feels both far away
and as close as the God Whose Name is Mercy.

Listen:
Not in muted silence on Zoom,
but listen for the laughter,
the sighs, each exhale and inhale of wonder.
Listen to hear what crushed hope might become.
Listen for the courage in each gasp.
Listen to how love becomes a song.
Listen. Look.
The God Whose Name is Mercy is here.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Psalm 105

Give thanks to the God Whose Name is Mercy;
Call upon that name
and proclaim every good thing
that gives you reason to sing.
Sing to God;
sing praises to the God Whose Name is Mercy
so that you can feel
the winds of change
stir in your heart.
Let your hope crash onto the shores of creation
as loudly and boldly as a clanging cymbal.
Make noise. Make a lot of noise
because you dare to believe
in freedom and justice.
You believe in peace and love
because you believe in the
God Whose Name is Mercy.
Praise God’s name.

Prayers of Confession and Assurance

I often prefer silence to a shared confession said in words. If you prefer one with words and seek to center your worship on the Gospel, here is a beautiful prayer by my friend Teri. I offer instead an invitation to confess led by the liturgist or preacher and some words of assurance to follow an extended silence. You could even play another section of the above clips during that silence if it feels too uncomfortable to stare at each other’s faces in Zoom.

Call to Confession 

Like Christ, we come alone.
We come full of grief and despair.
We come battered
and overcome by all that weighs against us.
We come to confess that we don’t have all the answers
but long to hear the wisdom from someone or something other than ourselves
in the silence we now share.

Extended silence.

Words of Assurance

Beloved, feel the winds
of grace sweep over creation
and over your head. There is music there too,
over your head reminding you again
that there must be a God somewhere.
Everyone who calls upon the name
of the God Whose Name is Mercy will be saved.
You are forgiven. You are so loved. Amen.

That’s all I’ve got for you this week. If you find these prayers helpful and would like some help thinking about the fall, click over here to do a little pandemic worship planningtogether. I’d love to know what might be most helpful.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Worship Planning Ahead

I’ve peppered my little internet home with Ingredients for Worship during this strange season of life and liturgy. Most of these posts have landed midweek when I remember to do so because I suddenly realize what day it is.

That’s not how things go in ministry. You, dear pastor, are a planner. Or you’re trying really hard to be a planner as you gather video clips from multiple people in your congregation each week to compile all of these things into a cohesive whole that will work in your chosen format of streaming worship.

My clergy friends are tired. They want a vacation. You probably want a vacation even if this raging pandemic means that you can’t actually go anywhere but it would mean that you wouldn’t have to agonize over creating video content for just one week. Maybe even two or three. So I want to try to give you that vacation because I know that you deserve it. You need it.

The problem is that each and every pastor in each and every congregation is innovating their way through the challenges of online worship in a slightly different fashion. I’ve heard repeatedly that it’s really nice that judicatory leaders are offering things but it’s not exactly what these pastors need. (It is nice. Keep doing it, dear judicatory leaders.) Having heard that frustration, I want to try to imagine what would help in this strange interim season.

So, let’s brainstorm a bit together. Here are some of the things that I see ahead for which you might want or need resources. Just as Lee Ann Pomrenke offers liturgy without an emphasis on preaching, I’m thinking particularly about stuff that doesn’t have to include a sermon.

Labor Day

In the time before Corona, this was a popular weekend to travel. It was a time for family backyard BBQs as the end of summer is observed. It was also a great day for clergy to be away. That might not be true this year. It might be a great time to recapture the original intention of the observed holiday and lift up the workers in your community and congregation. Interfaith Worker Justice provides some great liturgical sources and ideas for Labor in the Pulpits. 

I wonder especially how we witness to our faith and hope for this world and its people when we know that this pandemic has struck hard because of the working conditions in meatpacking plants and factories. A testimony could be offered instead of a sermon. The Gospel Lesson that Sunday reminds us that “whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven” (Matthew 18:18, NRSV) which may or may not illustrate our hope.

Homecoming Sunday or Rally Day

Is this even going to be a thing? It seems that worship attendance has stayed fairly steady throughout the past five or six months of pandemic normal. Small groups are continuing to meet online so that the usual “welcome back” might not make any sense. (Ok, it’s not my favorite tradition anyway but it is a thing.)

Kids are going back to school though — in some format. I’ve seen the suggestion of a drive-thru blessing of backpacks in one church’s parking lot and have seen backpack blessing tags from Illustrated Ministry (and rumors that there will be some socially distant new tags) that might be offered to children returning to school even if school is at their dining room table. Are you thinking about a special blessing for teachers or parents too this year? Do they get stickers? Prayer cards? Stress balls? Could it be a whole service of blessings? Don’t we all need a blessing right now?

World Communion Sunday

There are some great liturgical elements for this Sunday where Christians remember our connection through the breaking of the bread and sharing the cup. I do not know how many of those exist in video format for little cost. This would be fun to explore.

The Gospel Lesson for that day is a humdinger but that doesn’t mean that there can’t be some liturgical wonders exploring broken bread and wine with perhaps a greater emphasis on the Hebrew Scriptures reading.

All Saints Day

I know. It’s all the way into the first week of November and you can’t imagine thinking that far but there could be some lovely meditative worship experience remembering all the people that died in the protests for Black Lives Matter, in the streets at the hands of a corrupt police system, the healthcare workers on the front lines and the millions of other people who have died in the pandemic in a few short months.

This, of course, does not include the number of people within your own church community who have died and even buried while maintaining six feet apart and wearing masks. I know that for many of you, dear pastors, these souls have been lost without you having an opportunity to minister and pray at their bedside. We need time to grieve and this holy day may be a time for you to worship and grieve too. I’m wondering what elements might be most helpful so this can be a reprieve for you, dear pastor.

A Good Ol’ Fashioned Hymn Sing

We can’t sing together. I know. We are listening to other people sing on tiny screens perched on our coffee tables. It’s not the same but there is something powerful about familiar hymns and having an opportunity to sing them even if the only one that can hear our singing is the cat. (And God, obviously.) There are lots of public domain songs and lots more that are covered by your congregation’s CCLI license. This would be really easy to pull together in bits and pieces. Would it help you and your people?

Is there something I missed? Is there something else that might allow you to be relieved of this task for a week or two, dear pastor?

I continue to pray for you and look forward to your thoughts and ideas in the comments. You can also message me if you would prefer.

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 13

I’m finding it hard to enter the power of the miracle in Matthew’s Feeding of the Five Thousand. I feel myself withdraw and not in the prayerful and restorative manner that we imagine Jesus does in that thirteenth verse. I am tempted to play with that word especially as so many of us feel overwhelmed by parenting, protesting, watching and waiting to see change manifest when every day feels the same. It creeps into the pastoral prayer below but I find myself leaning in to hear the psalmist better.

Gathering Together

I want to swim into the words in Psalm 145. It made me want to go looking for a more modern translation like that in Words of Her Mouth: Psalms for the Struggle edited by Martha Spong. I confess I haven’t ordered it yet because my husband and I are currently lamenting why we have so many dang books and no built in bookshelves in this new house. Still, it’s hanging out on my wish list and it should be on yours too.

Because I don’t yet have this book and couldn’t find a translation I liked better than the NRSV, that is what you’ll hear in this video. Sometimes all we need is the words of the psalmist to center our hearts and minds for worship.

I really miss the ocean right now. Can you tell?

I don’t know if these videos are more or less helpful so I thought I’d also include some gathering words that could actually be copied and pasted. Here are such words.

Call to Worship

Come tired and worn.
Come worried
and hunched with despair.
Come because you need compassion
and hope. Come because you are hungry
for good news and reassurance.
Come to remember that you are not alone.
You are never alone.
You are beloved
and you have come
with a hunger to
share in this mysterious
gift of life.
Come. Bring all that you are.
It will be enough. Come
and find that we have been waiting for you.
Come.

Prayers of the People

Maren Tirabassi wrote this gorgeous liturgy for Holy Communion for this day. I think you should use it. It’s just lovely.

I feel so beaten up by this pandemic this week that I have zero interest in writing a confession and assurance. There’s a lovely, sassy one here. I am instead still thinking about the pastoral prayer that I heard last Sunday in my sweet Texas church online. It was one of those prayers that dared to name that we are no good at praying. It seemed to capture all that I’ve been feeling. I was reminded of it again in reading this reflection on a God who feels.

A Pastoral Prayer

God, we come to you
in prayer and possibility.
We come with hearts wide open
and brains spinning
with so many thoughts.
We come to you
without having prayed
as we should
or as we wanted
or maybe even as we imagined
because our words have been elsewhere.
Our words have been in
the streets of Portland,
in every intensive care unit
around this globe,
in detention centers
and court rooms
waiting for justice
to finally come.

O God, we come to you
with names heavy on our hearts.
We come in prayer to name
Breeona Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery,
Dion Johnson, Tony McDade and George Floyd.
We uplift the names of those
that white supremacy would
rather erase.
O God, in your mercy,
hear our prayer.

O God, we come to you
with doubt that anything will change
if a virus is found
when a virus is tested
and one pandemic ends.
We fear that the healthcare system
will still be broken, racism will persist,
our elders will still be overlooked and undervalued
and we will remain forever uncertain
how to best educate and care for our children.
O God, in your mercy,
hear our prayer.

O God, we come
seeking your grace and mercy
because so much feels as though
it has been deserted and lost
so that we are not even sure
how to name what needs
peace and hope. But you, O God,
open your hands to
the broken world and
so we ask for your words.
O God, in your mercy,
hear our prayer.

We come with more names,
names of those close to us
who seek your grace and peace.
We pray for {names on prayer list}.
O God, in your mercy,
hear our prayer.

We pray for the hungers
and desires in our own city,
especially for {agencies like the food pantry and
local homeless shelter or headlines to be named.}
O God, in your mercy,
hear our prayer.

We pray for our country
and the election that awaits
tired people.
O God, in your mercy,
hear our prayer.

We pray for your love to wash over
this world and all your people.
We pray for your open hand to guide us
and lead us especially when
we are tempted to withdraw
from the good stuff.
We pray for your compassion,
especially for ourselves
for you are gracious and merciful
always. We pray in your grace, Amen.

That’s all I’ve got for you this week.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 12

I get the honor of preaching this Sunday so that one of my dear friends can get a break from the delicate dance of pastoring and parenting. I’m so thrilled I can offer her this blessing and so I’ll be sharing a little more than words this week.

You are welcome to use anything here in any fashion that makes sense. They are here because I know you too are juggling so much. Your summer doesn’t look like you had hoped and if you have kids the school year ahead doesn’t look any easier. Still, I know that your faith can be seen in that mustard seed even if every bit of you feels as though its been through the fiery furnace.

Gathering Together

I wanted to use poetry to gather together and I decided on one of my favorite poems. I’m thinking a lot about the conversations that were being had three months ago where we were talking about what would emerge from this time. There was determined hope back then that sounds a whole lot like the “yes” Jesus gets to these parables. We will begin worship with this video.

Prayer of Confession and Assurance of Grace

I’m not yet sure if I will offer these words of prayer as anything more than a slide. In case you haven’t noticed, I intend to be on screen as little as possible. However, I might have to model this so I might have to appear on screen though I’m considering how creepy these sound files might sound. Check back later this week and you just might see a video.

Call to Confession

We come together to worship and praise
while the infectious diseases like racism and COVID-19 rage.
We are weak with fear for our neighbors, for our children,
for whatever world might be possible. We do not know how to pray
and so we come together with sighs too deep for words.
Let us lament our hope and fears
with each breath —
breathing in and breathing out
breathing in and breathing out
all that won’t be
all that isn’t possible
and all that we still dream to be.
Let pray into the depth of our sighs.

Allow for time to breathe.

Assurance of Grace

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?
As you catch your breath, may you be so convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

Gospel Lesson

I really just wanted to see if I could do this and so this is how these videos started. I wanted to illustrate the Gospel Lesson with stock videos and photos. It’s not perfect by any stretch and I realized I actually changed a preposition when I read the Gospel. Oops. Still, here is an attempt at proclaiming this good news.

Gathering Around the Table

Communion will be shared in this online gathering as it is every week for Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) congregations and so there will need to be words to gather us together. I have only received the gifts of God in this pandemic season so this is my first time trying to write something. I am opting for less formal though I really do like a good Sanctus.

Invitation to Table

We gather together between
breakfast tables and coffee tables
with computers and tablets
placed on top of the crumbs
still leftover from breakfast.
While the dishes still await
in the sink, we prepare to feast again
partaking this time of holy food
to increase our faith.
God meets us in the ordinary
to reveal the extraordinary.
Beloved, let us feast.
Let us wonder. Let us imagine
another world is possible in sharing
these sacred gifts.

That’s all I’ve got for this week. Many thanks to Traci Smith and her wonderful Treasure Box Tuesday finds that allowed me to find this online resource to create videos. You can subscribe to Traci’s weekly email here and click on over to Climpchamp to see just how good Traci’s recommendations are.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 11

As you may know, I recently moved. I’m in a new place where the landscape and the unbearable heat (even though I’ve now lived in Texas for three years) make this place feel so foreign and strange. I live in a new construction home which is something I’ve avoided for 41 years. The houses all look the same in my neighborhood and it pushes me to think about diversity in creation, people and, yes, even houses.

I feel dislocated on top of the isolation that I’ve felt for the past four months. I’m now in a place where I don’t know my neighbors. I don’t have friends or family that I can socially distance visit so that I’m instantly drawn into that Psalm. I long for the familiar: to be known and loved. I miss that.

It’s where my heart leads. I wonder how many might feel the same at this moment.

Gathering Together

I love this Opening Prayer by my friend Teri Peterson so much that I’m tempted to not write my own. Or I might take this video suggestion from Singing on the Lectionary to begin worship (or maybe use in the time for children) to learn this song in English and American Sign Language.

I want there to be art. Maybe that includes Vincent Van Gogh’s The Sower with the accompanying reflection by Liam O Comain as Suzanne Guthrie suggested last week to begin worship because I want to see myself among the scattered seeds. Or maybe you just watch this guy garden in some mix of silence and words of poetry, scripture or words like these that follow. (You probably have some gardeners in your community and could make a better version of this too, right? Because you totally have time for that. Kidding.)

Gathering Words
Inspired by Psalm 139 and Romans 8:12-25

We have groaned
so much as the days and weeks
have added up
and the frustrated
arguments have escalated
about whether or not to wear a mask.
All of creation has groaned
with us and we are waiting
still. Our backs are tired.
Our knees are weak
and we shudder to wonder
what it means now
to reap what we sow.
O God, search us.
Search us out in this
time of worship
and wonder.
Know that we are looking for you
in every tiny plant
growing in our gardens
and the cracks in the sidewalk.
Sit down beside us
and dial in
so that we might rise
with you in hope and love.
Lead us on your way
again, O God. Amen.

Prayer of Confession and Assurance of Grace

These prayers have been adapted for some I wrote for an interim season at the United Christian Church of Austin. I wrote these prayers as a volunteer because I could help in this small way and when I concluded this service, I received a card thanking me that included a celebration especially of hearing the words poopy diapers in a prayer. Well, it’s here for you too. This is my reality and maybe now the image at the top makes sense.

Call to Confession

We have been led together to this very moment
where it feels like God is both near and far,
when we wonder what the future might hold.
Let us confess our fears together.

Prayer of Confession

O God, we never feel ready for the good news.
It comes in a trumpet blast one morning
and we can’t help but feel like we should have done more to prepare.
We have our excuses: too old, too young, too many poopy diapers,
too little money, too immunocompromised,
not enough hours in the day, not really believing
that it’ll matter; but you know the truth, O God.
We don’t ever really feel like we could be called but we are.
You have searched us and known us and you know that
we are called to this moment. We will be the ministers of the future.
We are called to this.
O God, forgive us for all our self doubt.

Assurance of Grace

Who hopes for what they cannot see?
We hear the complaint in the epistles and our own tongues
but let anyone with ears listen. God knows your heart
and God forgives your fears. You are forgiven. Alleluia! Amen.

What I haven’t tackled in these words is the repetition of the word slavery. It should for American Christians push us to wrestle with our nation’s history of enslaving black and brown people. It should challenge us how we preach these words as good and force us into an uncomfortable place again. To that end, I commend The Word Is Resistance to you in particular to delve into these sacred words that can lead to such sin. The Rev. Anne Dunlap, who hosts the podcast, offers several other excellent resources if you follow the link.

That’s all I’ve got for this week. I’ll be guest preaching next Sunday so you can expect that I’ll be more on top of things next week.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 10

It has been over a month since I shared these pandemic prayers. I got swallowed up by the logistics surrounding our move across Texas.

It seemed at every moment that something had settled that something else would fall through. It still feels that way two weeks after arriving here. Boxes still aren’t unpacked. There are things I can’t find because I didn’t hover over the packers for their safety and my own. It is still a pandemic after all and it’s raging across Texas even though I was little ladied more than once across this vast state by men insisting that this was a hoax.

I am still so freaking proud of the church and all that you dear pastors are doing in the midst of this chaos especially because I feel like I’m barely holding it together right now. These prayers are appearing late in the week and may not be helpful because you’ve already recorded. I hope you rest then. Or find whatever feels like rest right now and maybe even read these gorgeous words of encouragement from my friend Laura Stephens-Reed.

Thank you for all that you are doing to walk in faith and hope. Here are some words that might lift a small burden from your shoulders.

Gathering Together

As the numbers increase and it becomes a point of pride for some not to wear a mask, I am struck by the words of Psalm 119 asking God for life. I’m captivated by the image of scattering seeds as an act of resistance more than Miss Rumphius who scattered lupine seeds to reveal the earth’s glory. Sowing seeds feels like a determined prayer. There will be life. Abundance is possible.

Gathering Words
Inspired by Psalm 119

Give us life, O God.
Give us breath and strength
and a bit of courage
to speak you words of love.
Give us life, O God,
because we’e not so sure
how to live and move
and have our being.
It feels like we’ve given our all.
We’ve tried our best
but we cannot give up.
We must go on.
This is not over.
This is not all there will be.
Give us life, O God.
Give us abundance.
Give us power.
Give us grace
so that we can feel it
beating in our hearts.
Bring your heart into our own.
Give us joy
in this time of worship
and wonder.

Prayer of Confession and Assurance of Grace

There is a lovely prayer of the day written by Julia Seymour that would be lovely. I feel the need to confess lately. Most of my prayers while unpacking boxes have had a health amount of profanity. I need some forgiveness.

Prayer of Confession
Inspired by Isaiah 55:10-13

O God, it hasn’t felt
like there is new growth
in my heart and mind.
I’ve worried too much about the world:
the selfishness of others,
the arrogance of my own heart,
the number of things that need
to change and need to change fast,
the sins of racism,
the betrayal of isolation,
the desire for something normal
even though I have no idea what that might be.
I have not felt joy or peace
but outrage and fury.
I cannot believe things have gotten this bad
and I wonder what I can do
to water the earth with change.

Assurance of Grace

Beloved, you are saturated in God’s love.
Hear these words with joy. Let them take root
in your heart and mind:
you are forgiven
and so very loved by God. Amen.

Gospel Meditation

In seminary, I worshipped with Judson Memorial Church where they had an Old Testimony and a New Testimony. The old always being something from the Bible and the new was a poem or an excerpt from an essay or book. It added something that wasn’t in the sermon and sometimes wasn’t even explored in the sermon. It revealed something about these words from scripture. It made us think. Silence always followed.

I have always loved this tradition and have adapted it in places I’ve served. It worked sometimes and other times it totally flopped. This week I want something to meditate on this passage from Matthew. I’m so used to hearing Luke that I’m so curious about this happening by the water. Does that make the land more fertile or less? Maybe I’m too landlocked right now and I just want to dip my toes in some body of water that is not sweltering hot from sitting out in the sun. (That would be my kid’s kiddie pool.) I offer these possibilities as a new testimony or centering words or whatever you might choose to call them before or after the Gospel Lesson.

Untitled by James Baldwin

Instructions on Not Giving Up by Ada Limón

Matins by Louise Gluck

A Blessing with Roots by Jan Richardson

I know there are others that I’d like to add but my kids are refusing to nap so that’s all I’ve got for this week.

While I was packing and stressing about moving in a pandemic, I received a sweet note thanking me for these liturgies. An email also popped up yesterday asking to use my Blessing for Face Masks. You can find the gorgeous image Mary Dicken created here. It’s amazing what we can do together.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for Vacation Bible School

It is Vacation Bible School week in our house which means there is a ton more screen time than usual as we share in learning about the light of the world. It’s a curricula entirely created by the staff and volunteers at our sweet Texas church and I’m reminded again how amazing it is to witness what can be accomplished in these strange times where we choose not to gather for worship.

There are also a number of amazing resources for VBS that have popped into my email including Tumbuh’s God’s Global Kids and Illustrated Ministry’s Compassion Camp. Both feel timely and wonderful as people continue to swarm into the streets to march and protest for the simple fact that black lives matter.

My mornings are spent with Bible crafts, singing This Little Light of Mine and sharing with my sweet toddler what this faith means. I’m also spending a lot of time thinking about what I’m teaching her about race and racism. That might seem unimportant. It may seem like I should be working harder on my own racism but this reminder that how the littlest ones test our faith made me wonder about how white people pray with their children to resist and oppose racism.

Gathering Together

Psalm 100 challenges me to consider the songs I’m teaching to my children. I might not be bringing them to protest right now but I want them to know the songs when we get there. Many of those songs are songs of faith so what if worship began with some freedom songs? I’d be eager to include this one and this one both sung by the Freedom Singers. I’d encourage kids to find some noise makers even if they’re just banging on pots and pans to make a joyful noise.

Perhaps then there should be some gathering words inspired by the Psalm. The children might continue to bang their pots and pans or whatever noisemakers they’ve found every time the refrain “make a joyful noise” is offered. Prompt the children to listen for those words and pause each time to look at the gallery of delight in your Zoom worship.

Gathering Words
Inspired by Psalm 100

Make a joyful noise, all the earth.
Praise God for young minds
and older hearts
eager to grow and change.
Praise God for sunshine
and babies
and the radical hope
that nothing is impossible
with your love.
Make a joyful noise, all the earth.
Gather us in with songs
of protest and freedom
of hope and change.
Teach us new songs
to sing in the foreign lands
that almost seem normal now.
Make a joyful noise, all the earth.
Bring us together
from the many places we are
with powerful internet connections
and spirits eager
to be renewed.
Make a joyful noise, dear children of God.
Know that God is good
and that we sing praise to
all that is good.

You might also choose this Intergenerational Call to Worship by Carolyn Brown or this Improvisation on Psalm 100 by Maren Tirabassi though I might add something about digital doors because “these doors” doesn’t mean the same thing in the midst of pandemic.

Prayer for Children

I always opt for prayers for children from Marian Wright Edelman. Over here on Prayers for School Children, I might adapt the final prayer for all children as a blessing for VBS. Or I might opt for something like this with language that is familiar to young children.

Blessing for Vacation Bible School
Inspired by Matthew 9:35-10:8

God, as Vacation Bible School begins,
our children will go about villages and cities
sharing your good news. May they feel love
from every adult who reads a story
and every song leader.
May they learn that faith is big
and sometimes really hard.
May they find joy in wondering
and delight in listening.
May they know that there’s
so much more to learn
and be excited to go on the next adventure.
God, we bless [names of children].
These are the names of the children
we will hold close in prayer
this week as Vacation Bible School begins.
Amen.

Passing of the Peace

A few weeks ago, I referred to an idea from a mentor of mine where individuals might be invited to share reflections of peace in the passing of the peace. I wonder if instead we might model to our children and remind ourselves of the work we are struggling to do to wrestle with our whiteness by sharing something we did or read or heard that challenged the racism that lives under our skin.

Maybe two or three people offer this short reflection and concludes by saying something like, “The peace of Justice and Love also be with you.” For those using Zoom, there might be some musical interlude that follows where people could share in the chat what other things they’ve wrestled with in their racism. That list could be gathered from the chat and shared in the weekly email that follows that week so that the conversation might continue as much as our support of each other in doing this work.

That’s all I’ve got for this week.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always.

How Shall We Pray?

For the past several weeks, I’ve offered prayers as a gift to my colleagues in ministry who are serving faithfully during this pandemic. I’ve written liturgies following the Revised Common Lectionary that I have hoped were copied and pasted into Facebook Lives and Zooms and every other platform that congregations find themselves gathered in this moment.

I opened my email on Monday to find that two of my favorite cooking blogs are not offering new content. Yes, that’s how white I am. I faithfully read cooking blogs still these two particular cooking blogs are hitting the pause button. They are intentionally stepping back to wrestle with their own racism and the various ways that they unintentionally play into white supremacy. It’s something I know many of us are doing.

Before reading their words, I already knew I wasn’t going to offer prayers this week. I wasn’t going to attempt to assert my privilege into the grief and pain after the unforgivable deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Sean Reed and Tony McDade because of the racism burning in our blood.

We have heard enough from white women.

White women should be asking, like all white people, how shall we pray?

We shall not pray for peace because we do not know the grief and pain of this moment. We do not wish that there was a better way because too much has been broken. We have dared to assume we could build on a broken system and only now can we see that wrong, but then, how shall we pray?

How do you pray when your country is on fire? How do you pray when there is greater concern for property than people? How do you pray when the grief and despair is too big to name?

EZYHcAoVAAA3BAKI am listening for what I do not understand. I’m opening my heart and mind to the grace of God as I wrestle again with the demon of my own racism.

I cannot pray with my own words.

I won’t. I can’t.

I want to confess the sins of my own racism starting with my White Privilege as captured in a poem by Judith Lockhart Radtke found in The Anti-Racism Prayer Book created by Trinity Church in Boston. There are several other powerful prayers collected in this digital booklet.

Those that are still feeling the winds and fire of Pentecost might opt to use this Prayer by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat written way back when in 2014 in honor of Mike Brown and Eric Garner. It might need only a slight adaptation to feel that wind that moved over the waters of creation in Genesis 1:1-2:4a.

As social media blacks out to focus on the wisdom of black and brown bodies, in churches in my own United Church of Christ and other white dominated congregations, this litany of confession for Lent might be adapted to evoke the power of Creator, Christ and Spirit. This prayer remembering the last words of Eric Garner from Praying with James Baldwin might also be fitting or one of these two prayers addressing white supremacy found on enfleshed. Martha Spong offered a beautiful Trinity Prayer meditating on Psalm 8:4 in her weekly email that she admits is a prayer for majority white communities of faith. 

The United Church of Canada somehow always has words for the prayers closest to my heart as they do in this prayer To Root Out Quiet Racism.

The Unitarian Universalist Association has a Black Lives Matter Worship Collection which includes a reflection about singing Lift Every Voice and Sing by the Rev. Aisha Ansano that I found powerful especially because I remain unconvinced that it should be sung in white congregations.

When I can’t find the words for my own prayers, I turn to poetry. This poem by Ross Gay popped up in my timeline again this week. As the fires blaze in riots across our country, I find myself returning to Christopher Gilbert’s Fires Gotten Brighter. Donte Collins’ what the dead know by heart sends chills down my spine and leaves me staring at my own palm. I’m not sure how you’d use these in worship just as I’m not sure how a white congregation might meaningfully use Get Home Safely which the SALT Project is offering for free download.

For better or worse, I know that my prayers as a white woman aren’t the same as my black and brown sisters and brothers. I know that as much as my throat catches watching that video, it’s not the terror I feel every day for myself or my children. I can cry listening to the Rev. Otis Moss III preach powerfully but I also learned something that I’m sure black and brown folks have known for a long time. I am new to this fight no matter how many anti-racism workshops I’ve attended.

My prayers are different because I’m not in the streets right now. I’ve got time and space to contemplate how I might pray when others are struggling to stay alive or even assert that their lives have worth.

I believe we should pray just as I believe in the power of God to do things that I cannot fathom in this moment. I’m going to hold onto that hope as I confess the sins of my own racism. That’s what it feels like these prayers are.

These are prayers to confess that we bought into the idea that this system actually worked even as we balked at 45’s great campaign slogan. We thought we knew. We thought we had done the work until this moment when a pandemic should keep us inside our homes but the grief is just too damn big.

I confess that I want to hear something like Maya Angelou’s Alone on Sunday because it might not be just about some idealized kum-ba-yah moment like in 2 Corinthians 13:11-13 but it could actually say something about our collaboration with the Trinity. Of course, it doesn’t really matter what I might want or how big I might like God to be. It’s not a question of my comfort.

I’ve been too comfortable. That’s the problem and the challenge of the gospel is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comforted.

Worship has already changed. It already feels so different ten or eleven weeks into this new normal so perhaps how we pray and when we pray and how long we allow God to speak needs to change too.

We shall pray that black. brown and indigenous lives matter because God already knows they do. We shall pray so that we might be changed.

Pandemic Prayers for Pentecost

For churches in the United States of America, there seems to be some creative tension between the winds of the Spirit and the President’s order for churches to reopen. There’s something about the hot air coming out of the White House that contrasts so powerfully with what the church is called to be and do. It’s something I feel like I missed in that Invitation to the Offering last week. It’s something I’m trying to illustrate from my own isolation bubble and something I’m wondering about how to teach to my children. 

Going to church has become the moment where Mommy grabs her iPad and we settle onto the couch. It feels like a gift each and every time and I wish that my littles allowed me to bop around to the many worship services I’d like to attend virtually, but I shudder that my sweet girls might think that church is something on a screen. (Will they remember this time? How long will this actually go on?) I want them to know that the church is an action. It’s a movement. It’s a response to the world’s deepest need and a desire to dream of of God’s greatest love in every living thing.

I confess I’ve been uncertain that the world will look any different after this is over but if the church is the church, then change must come. It must be the change in our prayers.

Opening Worship

I don’t know how many churches are embracing this season as an interim time. I thought these were wise and wonderful words about that possibility. Embracing this interim pandemic season might mean delving into that wide and curious of what makes the church the church. Worship could begin with individuals sharing a testimony of what this church has meant in their life or those same two or three voices could speak to the ideals of what brings them to be part of a worshipping community before concluding this opening with Acts 2:16-21.

Worship could instead begin with a familiar hymn and an invitation to consider our breath. The liturgy I wrote last year for my Texas church began with words adapted from Walter Bruggemann’s To Make Things New That Never Were from Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth which would follow this hymn nicely. Another possibility follows.

Gathering Our Breath

Breathe on us, Breath of God.
Fill our lungs
with courage and hope
so that your life
beats through our veins
and urges us toward
justice and peace.

Breathe on us, Breath of God
because “I can’t breathe”
was heard again
and we’ve whispered too often
that we don’t know what to do
to put an end to racism.

Breathe on us, Breath of God
and remind us what the church is called to be.
Fill us with the fire of your love
and the promise of your peace.

I also really like the Call to Worship by Julia Seymour in the RevGalBlogPal’s Worship Words this week.

Passing of the Peace

In the limited church hopping that my children have allowed me, I haven’t yet seen a passing of the peace happen on Zoom or Facebook Live. I suppose it would be super awkward if you record ahead of time but especially if you use the above Gathering of Our Breath or if you plan on preaching on the Gospel Lesson, it seems like this should be the Sunday to try it.

It could be a moment of Pentecost wind where everyone is unmuted and the whole host of angels greets each other in the name of Christ. It could hurt your ears or you might opt for something more structured.

Maybe you prompt your community to bring a pen and paper to worship. When this moment of peace approaches, the congregation is invited to name one thing that brings them anxiety to share in a word or two on the paper. Hold that paper up and then someone leads this Breath Prayer for Anxious Times. That prayer time might conclude with everyone ripping up their paper and throwing it in the air like confetti. (Sorry for the mess.)

Or instead, invite a youth who would have been confirmed this year on the chancel steps if it were safe to gather for worship to share one thing that has brought her peace in these pandemic days. Maybe she shares something in particular about the beloved community in her youth group experience. Invite her to conclude that thought by saying something like a blessing.

May the peace of Christ also be with you.
May the Spirit of God bring you hope.
May you feel the love of God
in every breath. Amen.

That’s all I’ve got for this week.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for the Ascension

At the end of the last week, I sat on a picnic blanket in my backyard with my two babies reading the Ascension from their new Sparkhouse Story Bible. (I discovered that Sparkhouse is offering a discount for Bibles to support families during this pandemic.) When I’ve preached on this passage from Acts, I’ve always been drawn to that bit about the disciples gazing up toward heaven.96310241_904628923324224_3491067924926431232_n

I rather like how the Story Bible turned this around for me. It caught my attention and made me wonder what it was that I’m doing right now to carry on the love of Jesus especially for those that feel like God has abandoned us. In the Story Bible, the narrative doesn’t end with the question about staring up to heaven. It doesn’t end with any sort of claim about when Jesus will come back but picks up with a disciple daring to be brave enough to say, “Right! Meanwhile, we have some work to do. Let’s get going.”

These prayers pick up on that hope because it’s been eleven weeks and I’m tired. I’m riddled with doubt that any choice I make to stay home or wear a mask actually matters. I need to hear a bit more from scientists and God.

Opening Worship

I really wanted to write something else about face masks but I’ll settle for the gorgeous art. Instead, I offer a simple responsive prayer to begin worship.

Welcoming the People of God

People of God, where is your hope?
Our hope is in God
who has blessed us
and given us great joy.

Why, then, do you worry?
We fear the unknown.
There is so much that is unknown.

Where do you look for hope?
We look to the scientists
eagerly working in labs
with more than 78 projects in process.
We marvel at what they have learned
in a mere five months
and we hope the healthcare workers
know how much we admire them
and appreciate them when
we are not banging pots and pans. 

Where do you need God today?
We need God
to help us to understand this moment
as much as we might understand
the scriptures.
We need God
to remind us there
is still work to do
and great joy to be found.

Unison Prayer

In the first church I served and the church of my childhood, there was no prayer of confession. There was something dubbed a unison prayer meaning that it was something we all shared together in one voice. Might I suggest something like this this Sunday even if you skip over the Ascension and find yourself in Easter 7A? Consider a Prayer for Medical Scientists or a Prayer for Chaplains and Healthcare Workers. There are surprisingly few of these out there.

Something for the Offering

I wanted to write something about wearing masks and staying home and socially distancing and how all of these things are the things we can do in this moment, but everything I came up with was garbage. (Yes, garbage.) This isn’t the perfect solution. It assumes a point of privilege and that’s not what I hope, but I did want to add something simple to celebrate our gifts to the church and beyond. It admittedly leans heavily on church. Oops.

I use Luke 4 in the second to last response but it could easily be adapted to include your church’s mission or vision. Remembering who we are and who we belong to in these days is critical. Use the words that your congregation has created. Remember. Celebrate. Adapt everything.

Invitation to the Offering

People of God, why do you stand
looking up toward heaven?
Christ has gone up with a shout,
but he will come again with trumpets and praise.
How then will you live?

We will live in hope
and be guided by peace.
We will dare to believe that
there are better days ahead
but we will do all that we can to protect
this earth and its people. We will love.

Who will you love?

We will love the forgotten and the ignored.
We will love the discarded, abandoned and abused.
We will love brown bodies, black bodies
immigrant and refuge bodies, fat bodies
and hollow bodies that feel they’ve nothing to give
but we will give.

How will you give?

We give with our whole hearts
with our bodies and souls
to support the things that matter most.

People of God, why do you give?

We give to bring good news to the poor;
to proclaim release to the captives and
recovery to the sight of the blind,
to let the oppressed go free
and allow all people to believe in hope.

How will you hope?

We will put our hope in our church.
We will believe in its mission
so much that it becomes an extension of ourselves.
We will hope that every dollar 
and every cent
is used to make Jesus Christ present
We will hope with out who hearts
and reach out to the world in love.

I may have had this song in my head while I was writing this particular prayer.

That’s all I’ve got for this week.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always.