Pentecost in Coronatide

Packed among the things that are headed to Germany this week are my two brilliant rainbow kites that whirled down the center aisle of one of the churches I served on Pentecost.

It wasn’t the first Pentecost that I had referenced the notion of kites in worship. There was a passing reference in a prayer and I think I even preached one year on the wonder of flying a kite.

The fact is that I am not very good at getting a kite to take flight. It feels to be like there is an art form to it. It is not something that just happens like the rush of a violent wind that sets it in motion.

It takes practice and a bit of engineering to get that thing to be the right shape and hit the wind in just the right way so that it can truly soar. And then, when it does, it is amazing to watch. It is a wonder to see this colorful thing way up there in the sky tethered to the world by a mere string.

I like that mix of wonder and frustration. To me, that sound like life. We try so dang hard to make things happen. We try to make good in the world. We try to love people and advocate for justice and half the time we feel like we are totally messing it up. We feel like we are doing it all wrong or we are not doing enough but then something happens. Maybe it’s a bit of engineering or practice. I can never quite tell but there is a moment where it all shifts and the way opens. It feels like there is endless possibility and we try our best to ride out that current.

That’s what I was thinking about when I created Wind Power for this Pentecost. I wanted there to be something that wasn’t really a liturgy but allowed us to be present to each other. Something that would invite congregations that are tiptoeing into gathering in person that would feel special and different but something that would also work in a context where things are still virtual. Something that would allow all of us to feel like the winds of change are starting to shift. There is something new in this place and we can all feel it each in our own language.

I wanted this to be a Pentecost experience where the story isn’t told but felt. It’s something we do together without words to explain what is happening. There is a moment for noticing and sharing in the wonder of creation but the true experience in this worshipful moment is being outside together and flying a kite.

If a church were to plan this event, they could do it over the Pentecost weekend. It could be something that happens over the following long weekend. It could happen in place of regular worship or could be something that is added on to the schedule. A church could purchase and provide kites or just have a few on hand for those that couldn’t find one. Lawn chairs might be encouraged and it might require a city permit to use a park in the area but I truly hope it’s not something that requires a lot of extra work for you, dear pastor. My hope in this free resource is to offer something that makes your life a little easier and allows you to be fully present to this Pentecost moment too.

Download your free copy of Wind Power here.

I’m praying for you, dear pastor. I’m praying for you so much.

Pandemic Prayers for the Fifth Sunday of Easter

I have seen pictures appear in my feed of pastors taking that much needed break after Easter. Some didn’t go much further than their backyard but they have their feet up and they are relaxing. Others — having been fully vaccinated — are enjoying the pleasure of good friends and family for the first time in a long, long time.

It was at this time several years ago now that I was enjoying such company. It wasn’t just a break after Easter. I had invited all of my nearest and dearest to celebrate new life with me among the vines in Northern California. It was my thirty third birthday which was a big deal for me because it was at that age my mother had died. Most little girls dream of their wedding. I dreamt of the party I would throw for that fated birthday. It was everything that it needed to be and right now I miss all of those people so much.

It might also be that I can’t think about the true vine without thinking about how connected we are to the people that make our hearts sing. I wanted to play with that imagery and I’m also sharing a pastoral prayer that I wrote for a sermon series led by a pastor friend that not only drank wine with me all those years ago but teaches me still what love can do.

Prayer of Invocation
Inspired by 1 John 4:7-21

Come, Beloved,
to take up root 
in the tender 
soil of our lives. 

Graft with us
hope that 
will show us 
again what love
can do. Reveal 
to us that which 
is alive because
we have felt so 
dead. We have
felt so dead and buried
that is hard to know
how to come alive
so come. Come
to water us with 
possibility. Come, 
Beloved, so that
we might grow
in love. Amen.
Prayers of the People

O God, the heavens
and the earth have been shaken. 
We have felt unsteady and uncertain. 
We’ve been tempted 
to relish in the past
when everything seemed easier,
but things are not what they were. 

We are not 
where we were 
anymore. The world
looks different now. 
We are different.
Or so we pray
now that we find 
ourselves here 
in this new place of 
possibility and hope. 

It’s not what we imagined.
O God, it is nothing like 
we ever imagined 
hope would feel. We thought it
would be something else
that we find here 
in the promise of vaccines
and healing. There is so 
much to heal, O God. 

We have lost of many lives
to this virus. We have lost
lives that were untouched 
by the coronavirus 
but consumed 
by other diseases.
There has been 
so much death
and not enough 
hands to hold
in the loss we share. 

We have lost income
and financial security. 
Best made plans
dissolved with 
all our savings and 
we felt powerless 
as our favorite local businesses 
shuttered and closed. 

We have lost more, O God, 
but the list is so long
and you know
what has been on our hearts.
You have heard our prayers.
And what we really need 
now is courage. 
We need strength
and assurance
that love will guide us. Love has 
been guiding us. Love has never left us
but we might not believe it 
until we can see your shalom
take root. O God, lift our heads 
so that we might see
the wholeness and your people. 
Help us to see restoration
and even peace
on the other side 
of this pandemic. 

O God, give us the courage
for the work ahead. 
Abide with us. 
O God, abide with us.
Amen.

Whether or not you have switched to hybrid worship, you might encourage vaccinated groups of people to meet together and walk together using Resurrection Awe Strolls. As the world shifts again, this might be used to notice where new signs of life are appearing in your neighborhood and might even invite your people to think about new ministry opportunities in this new season.

That’s all I have for you, dear pastors. I am praying for you. I am praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for the Third Sunday of Easter

It’s hard not to hear that last line in the Gospel Lesson and not instantly think of the trial surrounding George Floyd’s life. Or to recall the witnesses that stood there documenting the injustice that they had no control to change. I’m not sure about that. It seems that to witness always means that we have to get involved. We are never just a bystander — at least when it comes to matters of faith. It makes me wonder how we witness to this moment and how very stubborn hope can be.

While hiking with my children this week, I saw three of these cacti blossom with these fantastic bursts of joy. It felt like that. This part of the desert is used to yellow poppies interrupting the abundant brown at this time of the year but there hasn’t been enough rain. I was even told that there were not enough fires in the mountains this year for those poppy seeds to burst. There are still blooms though. The landscape is peppered with these tiny bursts of color. You just have to look a little harder. This prayer today is about how I am looking for resurrection in this Easter season.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Psalm 4

We are people 
of the resurrection 
who believe that 
the worst thing 
is never the last thing.
We have put our
hands and our hearts
into this hope
but the world 
is still is not as 
it should be.

We believe in possibility 
and renewal and it is
because of this that 
we still bellow
how long?

How long will
we allow this horrors
to persist? How long
will we love vain words
that do nothing to change
our corrupt systems?

We come, O Resurrecting One,
to share what keeps us up
at night and find a way
for the good. We know
that you are calling 
us to this work again.
We come together
to listen.

I also want to offer Brynn Saito’s poem Stone which was shared through the Atlantic Daily email this afternoon with 7 poems to read this spring. I can’t link to it apparently but you can subscribe here. Assistant Editor Megan Ome offers that this is a “poem that bears witness to Japanese internment from the perspective of a rock. Saito often explores Japanese American history through a personal lens, but here, she uses an inanimate object to help readers access the pain—and resilience—of those interned. This year, I’ve felt that the country has started to reckon more fully with its legacy of racism toward Asian Americans. Like the stone in this poem, I hope that more people will see themselves not as a bystander, but as a listener and an empath.” I hope so too.

If you are looking for a little something extra for this season, I cooked up this recipe Pandemic Easter Affirmations during Lent that might add some spice with new words from your community about what resurrection means now or you might encourage vaccinated groups of people to meet together and walk together using Resurrection Awe Strolls. As the world shifts again, this might be used to notice where new signs of life are appearing in your neighborhood and might even invite your people to think about new ministry opporturtunities in this new season.

That’s all I have for you, dear pastors. I am praying for you. I am praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for the Second Sunday of Easter

I hope and pray that you have this Sunday off. I hope that you are enjoying rest and renewal after proclaiming the good news with such love and joy.

I hope that you have found some way to curate worship that doesn’t involve you having to edit videos this week together to create a worship experience for your good people but that extended time of rest that you so need might not have come yet. It might be in the days ahead and even if you are off caring for your soul, the people of God will still gather to worship so here are some prayers for that low Sunday following Easter joy.

Call to Worship
Inspired by 1 John 1:1-2:2

From the very beginning
when the world was 
still without shape 
there was joy.

There was the light
of love that shone
through the expectation 
of what could be 
and what we dared 
to believe would be.

What we have heard,
what we have seen,
what we have looked
at and touched 
with our hands
has revealed
that possibility.

It is this beginning
in which we find
ourselves where
still so much could
happen and so much 
could be possible. 
It is in this wonder
that we worship
and praise.

We come together
again to find our joy 
complete. 

I wrote a Call to Worship based on Psalm 133 last summer that might be an option if this prayer doesn’t strike the right note fro what you are imagining. It might need some slight tweaking since the world has changed some since then. Thanks be to God.

Gathering Prayer
Inspired by Acts 4:32-35 and 1 John 1:1-2:2

O God, there is so much that 
we don't know. We have doubted.
We haven't been sure that 
there would be good news
or that joy could ever be complete.

We haven't believed with
one heart and soul. We weren't
even sure we had anything to share
but we believe that resurrection
changes us all. We are not yet
complete. Our joy is not yet 
complete and this is good news.
There is more, O God, that 
you will show us. We pray
for your wisdom and grace
in this time of rebirth. Amen.

There is only one line here that hints at the Gospel Lesson for this week. It’s a text I’ve preached often after the Senior Pastor proclaimed the important stuff on Easter. Ahem. It is not that it is not worthy of focus but I think that we know this story well. We know doubt and especially now as we live into this liminal space where some are vaccinated and others are not, it is hard not to doubt when this crisis will end. If you are looking not to preach this Sunday, you might share this award winning short animation film which is about the same length as a sermon after hearing the Gospel Lesson.

It seems so many of the videos that are out there focus on self doubt. After showing this film, I would encourage discussion in breakout rooms in a Zoom format or if you are streaming worship you might provide questions for quiet contemplation that appear on screen with background music. Questions might include:

  • Where or when does your hedgehog show up?
  • What do you imagine was the moment behind Thomas’ hedgehog? What is the moment behind yours?
  • Where is there a hedgehog in our community or even in our congregation right now?
  • What surprises await us in this season of resurrection?

You know your people well enough to know what can get them talking and thinking. I offer these to get you thinking. They are far from perfect. I hope that this conversation pushes beyond self doubt and allows for some naming of the pandemic doubts we are all carrying right now.

As you look ahead, or even for this week, I cooked up this recipe Pandemic Easter Affirmations during Lent. The pastor of my sweet Texas church used it to write a lovely affirmation for Easter Sunday and I encouraged her to recruit the elders — who already post weekly prayers in our congregation’s Facebook group — to write their own affirmations to carry us all through the season. I don’t know if it will happen but I offer the same encouragement to you. I am certain there are some wise souls in your church that have a gentle way of reminding the gathered community what matters and I’m sure they would love to offer the blessing of their words especially so that you, dear pastor, do not always have to be the one with words.

You might also encourage getting out of the house even among the unvaccinated with this recipe for Resurrection Awe Strolls. Easter is, after all, a season. Not just one day.

That’s all I have for you, dear pastors. I am praying for you. I am praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for the Resurrection

Hope comes again despite all that has happened.

The worst thing is not the last thing. There is still more that God will do.

There is still more that God is doing and I pray that is especially true for you, dear pastor, after a whole year of curating worship, fellowship and care remotely. I pray you are finding that there is newness. There is a sense of the possible and even an opening to wonder. I pray you already found inspiration in my thoughts in Holy Week in Coronatide but I wanted to offer something more pepper your worship on this most holy of days and the days that follow.

Likewise, Maren Tirabassi again offers a liturgy for Holy Communion for those gathering around the table on the Resurrection Day that could easily work for the following week with little or no adaptation. Those that subscribe to my newsletter know that I shared this liturgy that includes communion from another talented United Church of Christ clergy.

I’m grateful for Elizabeth Palmer who helped me find words for these prayers.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Mark 11:1-11 and John 20:19-31

When we thought it was over,
there was another wave.

When we believed 
change had finally come,
there was another shooting.
Another black body
was dead in the street.

When we told ourselves
that the worst was behind us,
it happened again.
We shut the doors
on possibility in our terror.
That feeling has seized us 
again and again.

Again and again, we have 
come to believe that 
resurrection 
still happens.
This is what 
we come to see.
It is what we 
need to see today. 

This is our joy today.
Resurrection
still happens.
This is what 
we celebrate.

This is one of the songs from a very short playlist of Easter music on YouTube I created for Easter. It is not something you should stream in worship as far as I can tell but it’s just so good. We all need this kind of joy. Learn more about these talented artists singing for the resistance here.

Pastoral Prayer for the Resurrection
Inspired by Mark 11:1-11

O God, however tempted
we might be to stop in the fear, 
we know that this terror 
is not all there is. It is 
not all there will ever be
for even in the terror
there is amazement. 

There is good news
that cannot not be shared
because joy
teaches us what
is possible. O God, we
have seen your wonder
this year in the fellowship
we've found through our modems
and the community we've continued
to build. We have found joy
in [name particular joys in your life together].

Joy won't stick around
forever. It comes in a moment. 
It is unexpected and maybe 
that's why it alarms us.
It rolls back our expectations 
and urges us to stay. To stay
and see this thing
that is happening just
as we are trying to witness
to [name particular injustices in our world and in your community].

O God, our eyes are open
to what could be for 
we know that this is
not the end. This is not 
where your good news ends
with the disciples fleeing
from the tomb in fear
but there is more to this
good news that begins
with you and me. Joy is like that.
It pushes us onward. It reminds
us again that there is goodness in this world.
There is goodness and joy and love
even with all that terrorizes
and overwhelms.
We will not let
the worst stop 
us from finding 
the promise of resurrection
because resurrection
still happens. It is happening right now.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Amen.

There are a thousand things on your plate and the last thing that you might have been worried about was the Egg Hunt that a faithful volunteer plans every year. I hope that that kind soul followed through this year but if you find that you are frantically trying to make this happen, this Pandemic Easter Egg Hunt might help. You might also opt to extend the storytelling of this good news with a pageant in the season of Easter because why not. You can find the one that I co-wrote especially for this pandemic year here. If you are eager to encourage your people to find words to this hope, you might encourage them to write Pandemic Easter Affirmations.

Over on Instagram, I’m offering daily prayer practices especially for you, dear pastor, in the chaos that is this week. Sometimes I even post them on other socials. Sometimes. You can follow along with @pandemic.prayers if you’re on Instagram.

That’s all I have for you, dear pastors. I am praying for you. I am praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for the Return of Lent

I do not feel ready for this season to arrive.

I know that it will be different. It will be less disciplined but no less introspective than every other day since that first case changed our whole lives. There is the Lent that I typically yearn to experience where I exert extra energy on figuring out who God is now. I don’t know that I will do that this year.

I’m still not sure what I will do to mark this season for myself. I know that sometime on Wednesday or Thursday my family and I will begin the practice of welcoming apologies just by saying thank you. That’s the first practice in A Hopeful Lent. I’ll read some special bedtime stories to my children and maybe I’ll convince my husband to talk about some big questions. (My husband is not a person of faith and though I designed these questions with him in mind, I’m still not sure I can convince him. We are both so tired.) I bought the book my sweet Texas church is sharing in for this season and I hope that that connects me to that community currently covered in ice and so many without power.

Lent will begin even if we don’t have pancakes today. I decided that teaching my toddlers to play with food in pancake races was really a recipe for disaster. Their table manners have already plummeted. Still, I want there to be joy and hope as we wonder together about the promises of God.

Responsive Call to Worship
Inspired by Psalm 25:1-10

It seems impossible 
that we find ourselves here again
to wonder about who we will be
and what God can do.
We lift up our souls.

We have been waiting
and wondering what will be. 
We yearn for hope 
and knowing more 
of the ways of God.
We seek what is true.

Our minds are quick 
to wander and we have lost
focus more times than we can count
but we hope that in these days 
we will be more and more 
aware of mercy and love.
We learn to walk this path together. 

Lent begins again.
May our souls awake 
to trust and hope.
Prayer of Confession
Inspired by Genesis 9:8-17

O God, it does not quite 
feel like the clouds have parted. 
It does not feel like the storm
has yet passed. It will rain
for several more days. 

We confess we are tired. 
We are so very tired.
We have given up searching
the heavens for new wonders
but it feels like nothing 
will change even 
as a vaccine ever so 
slowly rolls out 
and numbers of 
infections and 
hospitalizations
diminish. We 
don't yet see
hope in technicolor
reaching across the sky
and so we pray that you will 
wrap us possibility. 
Remind us again
that your love reaches 
through the doubts
and worries of this moment
and leads us into 
the promise of possibility.
O God, we pray
for the blessing of 
your colorful 
possibility. Amen.

I shared last week the possibility of sharing in Pandemic Easter Affirmations where people could share in the practice of proclaiming what faith feels like right now. I suggested a workshop and that maybe these could be gathered into a booklet to lead the congregation through the Easter season. I also mentioned that examples are helpful to get the creative juices flowing and that I might be sharing such affirmations for Lent. Here is the first for this season.

Affirmation for the Wilderness

We believe that 
God is working wonders
in the wilderness of our lives.
We have felt tested.
We've hit a pandemic wall
but walls crumble
with trumpet blasts
and hope grows 
through the cracks
on the sidewalk.

This is not the end. 
We know this. 
Of course, we know
this is true for we are people 
of possibility and hope
who know that the worst 
thing is never the last thing.

We are people 
who have wandered 
though the wilderness
to find the way to freedom. 
We've crossed seas
and moved mountains 
with faith as small 
as a mustard seed. 

We believe that
these wonders
will come again.
It is the promise of new life. 
It is the promise
that we cannot yet see
but God still reaches across
creation to show us
again and again 
that wonders 
never cease.

We believe 
God is working
wonders in us 
right now.

That’s all I’ve got for you this week, dear pastors. I am praying for you. I am praying for you, as always.

Pandemic Prayers for Epiphany

A new year dawns. 2020 is over.

That is the hope that we have put all of our energy into as we count down the last few days of this wretched pandemic year. We are waiting even after Advent is over. We are waiting for what is still to come. Maybe this will be the year that we will grasp that Christmas continues for all twelve days when so many that haven’t put up a tree in years have done so just to experience a little bit of joy. Will they also log into Zoom to hear the promise that this season offers? Will we imagine that this good news will truly lead to better days?

I confess I’m not there yet so I’m gonna keep singing carols for as long as it’s even remotely acceptable. The first Sunday in January is the ninth day of Christmas and is technically the Second Sunday of Christmas though many will likely celebrate Epiphany on that day. I would have zero qualms about putting a carol into worship especially one that is as beautifully fresh in these new words.

I had shared in my last newsletter some ideas from Epiphany including recommending Traci Smith’s resource for families looking to practice a new way into experiencing the twelve days of Christmas. You can find it in her Etsy shop.

Maren Tirabassi wrote this beautiful communion liturgy for this Sunday as she has for each month in coronatide. She plays with the imagery of the Twelve Days of Christmas which I confess I had to sing through all nine days until I could remember that there are nine ladies dancing. I think singing the song or playing the song instrumentally before communion (even if its secular) might help for the worshipping community to hear what I didn’t catch too quickly. It’s fun though. We need fun and I will always recommend Maren’s words.

This could be the Sunday that you preach the Prologue of John. I’ve been playing with that for next Christmas and I have no more ideas than what I’ve already written for it so these prayers might not speak to you. I am using a hybrid of inspiration from the second Sunday of Christmas and Epiphany Sunday so I hope these prayers might carry you into the new year. If you find yourself leaning into the hope of the new year, there are a whole bunch of new year prayers on re:Worship. I’m also not assuming that all of these prayers go into the same service but wanted to provide options and follow where the sections led me.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Jeremiah 31:7-14 

With weeping we have come,
feeling blind and lame
and barren
without hope
even in this season
full of hope.

We come wobbly 
and uncertain
but God assures
us that we will not stumble.
We will not fall
but we will rejoice.
We will sing.
We will dance 
and hold hands
and be merry.
We shall not languish forever.
God will shepherd 
us into the future.
God is leading us 
under the stars.

I’m not sure where this song should go but I like it and I thought this pastor did a lovely job with the visuals. It also wouldn’t let me save it to my epiphany playlist which I found annoying. Because it is still Christmas and I am not one to put away the Advent wreath until Christmas is actually over (that is, after January 6), I always include a liturgy for the lighting of the Christ candles. That version is responsive with the same refrain repeated by the congregation. I don’t think that works online so it’s been adapted again.

Lighting the Way of Christ
Inspired by Sirach 24:1-12 and Isaiah 60:1-6

In this season of possibility, of wisdom telling of her glory to all the people,
 of love made known and peace kept close at home, still we seek light.
 
We seek light from the highest heavens
wondering what this year will hold, 
fearful and hopeful 
and praying with 
all our hearts that 
this year will be different.

[Light first of the Advent candles]
 
We seek light over the waves
of the sea, and all the earth,
for creation is hurting
and we too often feel
like we have no sway.

[Light second of the Advent candles]

We seek light as we listen
for God's command and wonder
what the ministry of the church,
this church and every church,
will be when the world 
has changed so much 
in just one year. 

[Light third of the Advent candles]

We seek light because
we have not yet found a resting place
to dwell where there is enough 
for the immigrant, the refugee,
the poor and the widow,
or even for those who
abide in black and brown skin.

[Light fourth of the Advent candles]

We come seeking light
in the One is Light
and Wisdom and Love.
It is in this great light
that we will rise and shine
for our light has come. 
We will open our mouths
and share in the glory
that continues the work 
of Christmas. 

[Light Christ candle]

Epiphany is rich with so many images but my favorite has always been the stars. I am fasciated that the star stopped or that it felt that way as it does when the hairs stand up on our necks and we know that we have touched some glimmer of God’s grace. I went back to look at old liturgies I have created for this day and none of them seem to speak to this moment of online worship in ten million months into a global pandemic. Can we speak of these things in the same way? Do we need new inspiration to speak of what the heavens reveals in these tiny bursts of gas?

I might find a prayer that speaks to this moment like Joyce Sutphen’s Naming the Stars which names the hope of those future reunions full of hugs, at least to my reading. Or maybe this poem by Mary Jo Bang written early in the pandemic. Mary Oliver has a lovely poem on stars and Ann Weems has a whole bunch of poems that might work especially well if you are doing star words. I think it would be fun to adapt this poem by John Daniel into a Call to Worship but I’m not sure we all share the same vision of the post-pandemic future. There are some universals, of course, but do we all begin in the same place with that hope? I’m not so sure but it would be fun to play with that poem and the Gospel. Here are a few prayers that muse on the wonder of stars.

Prayer of Confession
Inspired by Wisdom of Solomon 10:15-21 and Matthew 2:1-12

O God, lead us 
on different roads 
from the paths that 
brought us here into this new year. 

Open us to new treasures
from the chests
that we have carried 
over so many miles
always assuming that 
this was what was needed
because you imagine 
more than just one moment 
of revelation. Your light 
does not stop with that star
in one spot in the night sky.
You continue the 
orbit of love 
beyond that 
brief pause. 

We have thought 
we were holy and blameless.
We thought so all last
year and so we did
what we thought was right.
We took risks
that were comfortable 
for our own comfort
and read headlines
only to the point 
that we could 
sit with our own
racism and privilege. 
We still don't really 
know what freedom
means for those that 
are truly oppressed.
We thought we knew.
We thought we 
were so wise.

Lead us
by another way, O God,
where light teaches 
us humility and grace.
Lead us through
all our blunders
and missed opportunities
to find new signs
and wonders 
that overwhelm us 
with joy. Lead us 
ever into joy, O God.

Like so many, I really wanted to do something with this Christmas Star business. I went outside at dusk with my children to try to find it on the horizon. In one of the many news reports I listened to for some hint that this could have anything to do with Christmas (and I confess I’m still unconvinced), it was suggested that the Star of Bethlehem might actually have been an alignment of planets as Jupiter and Saturn aligned on the Longest Night. I can no longer find where I heard that. Sorry. I am using a lot of poetic license with this prayer and so my apologies to the scientists and maybe also to the psalmist.

Prayer for the Stars Alignment
Inspired by Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14

Will the stars align, O God, 
so neatly in the sky
that it might feel 
like this is what
you always dreamt 
would be?

Will the paths of planets 
reveal more to us
of your justice and love?

Will these celestial events
change how we live 
in this world 
as it was once sung
in ancient song?
Will we see your justice
come into the mountains 
and hills? Will hope for 
the poor and needy
rain down in stardust?

O God, we need a little bit 
of that hope right now.
We need some sign
in the heavens that will 
assure us that you are 
leading us, all of us, 
into justice and joy.
Align the heavens 
above with our
hope-filled prayers
for justice and joy. 

That’s all I’ve got for you this week, dear pastors. You’ve made it into the next calendar year. You have done amazing things for the love of Jesus. I mean that. You embody the love of God right now. Hold fast friends. We will get there.

Pandemic Prayers for Advent 3

I hope you already found the beautiful prayers gathered by RevGalBlogPals in their weekly Worship Words. I am honored to contribute to this collection of wonderful prayers and appreciate the nudge that to remember that those in the Southern Hemisphere welcome this celebrations with an entirely different set of metaphors.

I wanted to use the words of familiar carols to fill our prayers in full awareness that one of the things many of us will be missing this year is singing together these favorite tunes. These carols, especially the one featured over on Worship Words, have a bias toward the cold and frost that is familiar to me at Christmas. I know there is a collection of songs that sing a whole different experience of this birth but they are unfamiliar to me. It’s a complicated place to be in right now. I both want the familiar but know that it won’t be what it was. Those familiar things will not be the same, not this year.

Here are a few prayers for worship on Advent 3B peppered with the words of familiar carols before I go back to working on Epiphany and Christmas worship for next year. Can you imagine writing prayers for next year? What will the world look like? How will we welcome that birth then? Yikes. Don’t worry too much about it, dear pastor. There are people faithfully writing those prayers for you. You don’t need to think about it now. That’s my job.

Call to Worship
Inspired by What Child is This?

Shepherds and prophets keep watch and wait
wondering what child is this?
They were like those who dream
of a world turned upside down
where joy erupts like laughter.

This, this is not how it is now.
This is not how it feels 
in these dwindling Advent days.

Haste, haste to bring 
such joy and love 
even into this 
pandemic year.

Let us greet such wonder 
with anthems sweet
and joy. Let there be
joy in our worship today.
Prayer of Confession
Inspired by John 1:6-8, 19-28 and O Little Town of Bethlehem

Who are we? Who are we now?
We’ve asked this question so many times
over so many months of isolation. 
Have we changed? Does it matter?

Our meek souls wait 
to receive the Christ Child
into this world of sin. 
Or at least into 
our little pod of sin.

What do we have to say about ourselves?
What will we say now
as we pray together for the hopes and fears
of this very long year?
O God, cast out our sin
and enter in. Become
light and joy to us today. Amen.
Words of Assurance
Inspired by 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24 

So much has happened 
in just a few months. You have tested everything.
Now, hold fast to what is good. Give thanks 
for the joy God finds in you every day.
Beloved, you are made in joy. Thanks be to God.

Small Pandemic Joys

It has been so long that this pandemic has gone on.

I have lost count. I no longer care to count.

I have yelled at my kids. I have been short. I have been unkind solely because I have been so isolated. My family is great. Yeah for family but I really miss people. And so, I’m trying to remind myself of small joys. I am terrible at this spiritual practice. I know Diana Butler Bass says its a good idea. It’s healthy. It builds good things but I resist. Instead, my gratitude practice more boldly extends to conspiring with the United States Postal Service. I shared a recipe for that years ago here.

And yet, bizarrely, I find myself whispering prayers of gratitude in these strange days where my frustration feels off the charts. Beyond the obvious things (family, a roof over our heads, food in our bellies… that stuff), I feel compelled to share my growing gratitude list. It’s my own tiny reminder that small things are everything.

  • My fifteen month old baby has started kissing so that any time she goes upstairs she makes this little guppy noise to say good night. It’s not always bed time when we go upstairs but it makes me laugh every time.
  • Walks around our neighborhood where my nearly three year old daughter and I each squeal with delight at the bright colored flowers. (We live in Texas. It’s still hot here and even in the desert, there are plenty of flowers.) We are slowly learning the names of these new plants and each time I point and name a plant, I hear the distant echo of my grandmother doing the same thing over my shoulder.
  • While my children are too tiny for homeschool and we still don’t have many screens in our lives, I’ve definitely noticed my phone is in my palm A LOT. One of the ways I’m trying to separate from screens is to turn off all screens 30 minutes before bedtime and read an actual paper book. My husband wakes up so freaking early that I invested in a reading light that I adore. Right now, this is a great joy.
  • Writing prayers and hearing that these prayers are actually helpful when I know that so many pastors are on the brink of giving up their vocations out of sheer exhaustion.
  • Online church. I know I might be in the minority on this one but we moved to a new place two months ago and I still get to see and be cared for by the church community that has been the only church my kids have ever known.
  • Before it was a yeast shortage this spring, I had decided that this would be the year I learned to bake bread. I’m really grateful for my friend Meghan for buying me the book and and cheering on all of my bakes by text.
  • Teeny tiny adventures outside the house. We went to White Sands National Park last weekend which is only 90 minutes from our house and it was magical to be outside playing with our kids. I am also really keen on the fact that my nearly three year old has learned the word adventure and wants to know when the next one will be.

It’s not a long list but it’s a reminder that there is joy. There is always joy.

I pray there is joy for you too.

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.