Pandemic Prayers for Proper 28

As in the days before ballots were being counted, music is where my heart is led. I haven’t yet turned on the Christmas carols but I’m close. I’m really close.

It was actually while I was looking for music for Advent and Christmas that I found this song. it speaks to what im feeling after th election results were tallied. I know it is mot universal. there are those across the aisle greiving, protesting amd even condemning their neighbors. I saw a colleague pose the question on Facebook as to how we make room for that grief in the purple messy middle that is more common than not in most American churches.

I’m not even sure it could be used in worship and not just because of licensing. I’m not quite sure it leaves room for us all to mov forward together even when that is what we are called to do not only as Americans but as people of faith. As the Christian calendar slowly turns to the hopes and fears of all the years, I wonder about our hopes for this world.

Maybe I’m already feeling the haunting need to sing carols out of tune from the pews. (I am not gifted with voice.) Or maybe it’s that singing is the only way that I can imagine such hope right now. Even when we are not able to sing together, music fills these prayers.

Call to Worship

inspired by Psalm 123

O God, you have been our help

in ages past. You’ve reminded us

what was possible

and pushed us beyond our fears.

You’ve raised our eyes

to higher ground

and made our hearts soar

with the hope of years to come.

Be our guard while

these troubles last

and dare us to dream

in this new day.

Surprise us, O God,

with good trouble

in our worship

this day.

As this prayer alludes to a favorite old hymn, you might opt to follow the prayer with a new rendition of an old favorite. Or instead ask your talented choir or soloist remind us of the power of this favorite hymn.

Prayer of Confession

using sung response Wait for the Lord

inspired by 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11

We still wonder, Holy One,

how that day will come.

Will it come like a thief?

Will we feel robbed

and frightened

by what we could not control?

We wait in hope, O God.

Verse of Wait for the Lord

We are not sure

what peace and security might look

like or how it might come to dwell

in our marrow, for we

are too preoccupied with

what has been lost

and who has been hurt

and how much work we still have to do

to imagine your possibility and love.

We wait in hope, O God.

Verse of Wait for the Lord

We have felt the darkness

so much more than

we have convinced ourselves of the light.

We have feared more than we hoped.

Our teeth have clenched

and knuckle have gone white

wondering what else could happen

that we have let ourselves

be convinced that

this is just the way it is

rather than daring to dream

that we could encourage

and build each other up

into the hope that you have never

doubted was possible

for the children of light.

Help us, Holy One,

to create with you.

We wait for your muse

and encouragement.

Verse of Wait for the Lord

If you opt for Psalm 90, you might prefer this Call to Worship from a few weeks ago. There are also a lot of wonderful suggestions for this Sunday on Singing from the Lectionary. It is hard to pick just one or two songs to move our souls.

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

As always, dear pastors, musicians and worship leaders, I’m praying for you.

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 27

As I continue to try to write these prayers ahead of the Lectionary cycle, I’m writing these prayers when early voting is still happening in the state of Texas among others. I’ve cast my ballot but I do not know what will happen.

I have my fears. I know I’m not alone in those fears either.

I remember when the results came in last time after I showed up in my pant suit to vote. I wasn’t serving a church then. I didn’t pastor through that moment but I remember the intensity of that grief. I hope that history doesn’t repeat itself as much as I wonder how much politics (does this really count as politics?!?) should impact how we worship.

God will still be God. God is still doing something even if I struggle to see what that is in this moment. This is happening right now and I am really struggling to see the good in my fellow human. There’s that but then there’s Wisdom. How fabulous is she and there’s these words from Amos that have inspired our faith before. What do they say now?

Invitation to Worship
Inspired by Psalm 78:1-7 and Wisdom of Solomon 6:12-16

Give ear, dear people.
Incline your ears.
Bend your necks
so that you might
hear this with your 
whole heart.
Feel your weight
shift to make room
for this teaching.

Wisdom is 
radiant and unfading.
She will be found
in every musing
and quandary.
She will appear 
in every waking thought
and burning question.

She may be
hard to understand.
Her radiance
more dusty and antiquated 
than you had hoped
but listen. Listen, dear people,
for you are worthy 
of good news. 
Prayer of Confession
Inspired by Matthew 25:1-13

Open to us, O God,
your compassion 
for we have grown weary
with another wave 
of infection and illness.

Open to us, O God,
your mercy 
for we have
so little left.

Open to us, O God,
your hope 
for we do not 
know how or when 
this will end.

Open to us, O God,
and show us your grace 
because we need to feel
known and loved
especially by you.
It feels foolish
and absurd,
but we no longer 
know what to believe
about this world.
Show us your faith.
Amen.

I haven’t included Words of Assurance in the past few weeks. I haven’t found the right words and have let the confessions stand for themselves. I’m not sure that’s what we need but this week I need something that fills that gap even when I am without words. So, I rely on music.

It does not appear that this song is covered on CCLI license though a number of their songs are including this one. There’s a curated list of lyric videos by The Many here intended for use in worship that are currently being offered with free streaming rights. That might actually include the above video. I’m unclear. If you’re smarter than me when it comes to these things, please drop a comment below for all of us.

I wonder if I’ll come back and write another prayer after the election or if this addition will be enough. It’s a different format and I’m wondering if it’s easier to copy and paste. That’s the whole point here. I’m trying to make this easy so you don’t have to worry about credit but can copy and paste these prayers and give yourself a little grace.

Prayer of Confession
Inspired by Amos 5:18-24

O God, we cannot sing.
It is not safe to sing
or even gather for worship
in the same indoor sanctuary.

Do not tell us that 
in our separate sanctuaries
connected as we try to be 
in praise and wonder 
that you will not listen.
Do not say that.

We do not know
what to hope for
in the darkness of these days
but we know we haven’t
done all we can
to care for the poor
and unemployed.
We‘ve focused 
on our own survival
when you have wanted
justice to flow for our 
hearts and souls.
Help us. Hear our 
broken melodies 
try and help us 
to learn your 
rhythm of hope
and change.

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

I am always praying for you, dear pastors, liturgists and musicians. 

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 25

My constant refrain in these days is to bellow “what is time?”

I think I might intend it as a joke when it shows up as a blue bubble reply in a text message chain, but I’m not really sure. Time feels elusive. I decorated my house with tons of fake pumpkins (real ones rot fast in Texas and it is gross) in order to create some sense of time. Or was it that I wanted to feel festive? Or that I hoped that my children would remember these strange days with delight even while we were stuck in the house?

Psalm 90 made me laugh out loud after reading that fourth verse and so I find myself drawn there to meditate on the mystery of time in the pandemic. I’m thinking particularly about the way that time is unfolding in our congregations. My sweet Texas church is building a time capsule for future generations to muse over how we spent these days. At the same time, they are in the middle of an interim season asking all of the big questions about what it means to be a church now and into the future. As US churches are considering the harvest, the gifts of stewardship and Thanksgiving, it feels important to keep God’s vision on these pandemic days — and I don’t mean like all the white men who have already published books and articles about what churches have learned from the pandemic.

We do not know yet. We are not gods.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Matthew 22:34-46

We hang between
question and answer.
We hang in the tension
between what is known 
and unknown. We hang
on every word 
of hope and possibility.
We hang our
whole lives
on the law and the prophets
trying so very hard to
love God with all our hearts
with all our souls and 
with all our mind.
And so, we come
to hang out
by internet wires
and wi-fi devices
to find answers
to questions we haven't 
yet thought to ask.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Psalm 90:1-6

Dwell with us
here, O God.
Dwell in
our screens
and in our hearts 
as you have from
generation to generation.

Dwell with us
in this time 
of worship
enough that we can 
feel the ground begin to shift
and new horizons emerge.

Dwell with us
in all our pandemic 
confusion and worry
to find new
dreams and wonders
for ourselves
for our church
and for the world.
Dwell in 
our worship,
O God.

Prayer of Confession
Inspired by Psalm 90:1-6

For a thousand years
in your sight, Holy One,
are like yesterday
when it is past.
That is fine
for you but
we cannot remember
yesterday. It feels
indistinct from 
any of the yesterdays
before it. We want
to feel reassured
by your measure 
of time, Holy One,
but it does not feel like
this pandemic season 
will just sweep away.
We want to watch
the night and the day
with your vision
to see this world
and our dreams
renewed each morning
but our hope has faded
and our patience has withered
into nothing. Forgive us
for what we cannot 
see and expand our vision
with your boundless love.
Amen.

Writing these prayers made me remember this lovely essay on roads and pandemic wandering by Emily Scott from several months ago. An excerpt might be lovely as a meditation before the selected scripture for preaching or it might fit as an excellent illustration somewhere in that beautiful sermon you are writing, dear pastor. As it helps, this would be the section I’d feel called to highlight:

Start looking, and you’ll see roads all over the Bible. These solitary travelers journeyed in situations of great uncertainty, much like our own. Their destinations may have been clear, but their futures were less so. Somewhere along the way, however, they always encountered something unexpected: the astonishing presence of the sacred.

Jacob, for instance, ended up in a wrestling match with God as he journeyed. A court official of the Ethiopian queen is baptized by the side of a thoroughfare. Two disciples trudging along a dusty byway, having heard the news of Jesus’ death, find that he was walking with them all along. And Paul hears God’s voice and ends up blind on the way to Damascus.

A road is an unlikely metaphor for a pandemic that has us stuck at home. But what happens when we see ourselves as purposefully scattered — sent out on an unexpected journey, traveling solo? In the bible, the road is often a place of desolation and isolation, but also of encounter. A road has direction; it carries us from an old life to a new one.

Emily Soctt

I would also be inclined to find an opportunity for this hymn to be sung in some way.

Finally, I shared a Prayer for the Church on the RevGalBlogPals’ weekly Worship Words that could also fit with this slight bend toward harvest and thanksgiving. Though it picks up on the epistle from last week, it could also be used along with this theme. You can find it here.

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

I am always praying for you, dear pastors, liturgists and musicians. 

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 24

October brings celebrations in our house and so I’m working on planning ahead as you may have seen over on RevGalBlogPals last week. I shared prayers last week in their weekly Worship Words for this week’s worship including a Prayer for the Church and a Prayers of the People inspired by the Hebrew Scripture. You can find those prayers here and be sure to click that tiny blue button on the right sidebar to follow RevGalBlogPals so you can relish in the wisdom offered in weekly scripture reflections for both the Revised Common Lectionary and the Narrative Lectionary, prayers and a bunch of other treasures.

My eldest daughter will turn three later this month on the same day that her Daddy turns a year older. We are planning lots of pandemic style fun outside of the house. It is finally cool enough to actually enjoy the outdoors here in Texas. This weekend, we are enjoying a four day weekend filling our National Park passports with stamps.

I wrote these prayers early in giddy anticipation of actually leaving my house and I pray that you too are taking some time for rest and renewal in these strange days. I hope especially this year that the wonderful people in your congregation are looking for meaningful ways to celebrate your gifts.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Psalm 96:1-9

Tell us of salvation
from day to day. 
Tell us what
that word means 
to you in these days.
Is it as big as
you once thought
it was? Is it something
that will only happen in the 
end? Or has the end 
already come? 
Is that where
you are today,
dear friend?
Are you so 
exhausted 
that salvation 
doesn't seem 
possible anymore?
Tell us, dear friends,
what new songs
you are singing 
in the kitchen. 
Do those songs bless
God's name? Or 
do you kinda hope
God isn't listening
in on your dance party?
What is it that you
declare that is marvelous?
Tell us. Tell us 
what is working
and let us 
bless God's name
in all that we share
today.
Prayer of Confession
Inspired by Exodus 33:12-23

How many times
have we prayed, 
along with Moses
and all of the faithful,
"If you presence will
not go, do not carry
us up from here."

Do not take us 
any further
with our church,
our vocation,
our climate's
health, or even
our nation's 
health, O God, 
if you are not 
going to come
along beside us.

If you are not going
to be right here
in the middle of
all of the fury
and fear, 
leave us.
We have
tried too 
hard to do
this all on 
our own. 

O God,
we cannot
do this anymore.
We have asked
so much. We know. 
We know.
We just don't 
see what you
are, O God. 
There is no glory
nor really any goodness.
We haven't shown
our best selves 
in the stress 
of all of this.
We need to
catch sight 
of your image
in our own reflection
so that we can 
dare to proclaim
the gospel in
these days. Amen.

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

I am always praying for you, dear pastors, liturgists and musicians. 

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 23

The President has the virus.

In some capacity, we are all reacting to this. We are reacting to how he is responding to treatments. We are questioning our own faith as we try to summon prayers and compassion. Some of us are angry at the kind of medical care that is available for him when 200,000 others have died. We are all reacting. We are all feeling something about this and I wonder how we will feel at the end of the week. So much and nothing seems to happen in one week in these pandemic days.

I find myself thinking about these words from Matthew Skinner because I have pushed off confession in the worship elements I’ve written here. (That would also be true for my own prayer life.) I feel the despair deep in my bones but we are people of resurrection hope. We believe that the worst thing will not be the last thing.

I am also looking to simplify things a bit as I try to prepare for some new things I hope to share with you. I won’t share as many links as I have in the past but that shouldn’t stop you from sharing other excellent prayers in the comments.

Call to Worship

O God, we come
stiff-necked and imploring you
because we don't really want 
to admit to ourselves
that we've given up.
We've found other
comforts and 
made our
own way. 
We have 
had enough of 
the outer darkness.
We have wept
and wailed 
so that it feels 
like nothing left.
We are not sure 
what you could do,
O God, but we 
are stiff-necked 
enough to show up 
again and ask
you to act.
Come, O God. 
Your people 
are waiting. 
Prayer of Confession

O God, we haven't prayed
as we should. We have
hidden our thoughts 
from you so that 
our necks are
now quite stiff.
We have been 
stubborn
but determined.

O God, we had
so much hope.
We want to believe 
there is still hope
but the outer darkness
of this pandemic
has thrown us.
It has tied us in knots
and we feel stuck.
We no longer 
remember how 
we got here. 
We aren't even 
sure what day it is.
We are that close 
to despair, O God,
but we believe
in your redemption
and your liberation. 
We believe that you 
can make a way 
where there is no 
way. We believe that
even though we do not know 
where we are going, 
you are guiding us 
into the future with love.

We pray now
for the tiniest
glimpse of that love
so that we can feel
that grace thump within
our hearts to find 
the courage to face another day.
We pray in your
endless hope. Amen. 

If your confession leads into the Passing of the Peace, I would seize the power of this liturgical moment this week. Maybe it’s a flash of waves and smiles upon your Zoom screen or maybe it’s a short testimonial from two or three people about God’s love. Or maybe you ask the youngest members of the church family to share their visions of the future.

Give them hope. I hope in that gift you find even more for yourself.

If you are planning ahead, and I can’t really fathom that in my own pandemic reality, I shared prayers for next Sunday in the RevGalBlogPals’ weekly Worship Words including a Prayer for the Church and a Prayers of the People inspired by the Hebrew Scripture. You can find those prayers here. As I try to make space for what I’m hoping will emerge in the future, you’ll see more hints that I’m working at lease one week ahead in the Revised Common Lectionary.

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

I am always praying for you, dear pastors, liturgists and musicians. 

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 21

It has been a bad week.

Can we admit that? Can we conspire in that little bit of honesty?

A lot of bad shit is happening. I’m not sorry for my language. I am mad and you’re probably mad too. There are countless things that might make you feel like bashing your head against a rock. But, then, oh look! There’s Moses in the wilderness pounding the living daylights out a freaking stone because God told him that water would spring forth. Then, there is that bit in the Gospel about being afraid of crowds. Their reasons were different than those that occupy my pandemic angst but it is that phrase that leaps off the page to me. Well, that and the whole question of authority. Is there any authority now? Anywhere? At all? I appreciated Kentina Washington-Leaphart’s reminder that the “pathway to the other side [of all this shit] won’t be an easy one, and getting through it successfully will require sacrifice, patience, flexibility, and trust—trust in human leadership and, for people of faith, in God.”

I’m leaning into music this week because I need a song to sing. I miss singing in church and I need these songs to echo in my head so that all of that confusion that will surely come next week might have a new rhythm.

Gathering Together for Worship

I might just begin worship with this or a version of this using the talents within my congregation. Or if you are leaning into the trust we need to find in God, you might opt for this golden oldie.

Or instead I might begin worship with these words of poetry somehow figuring out a way to end the video before the promo for Leonardo DiCaprio’s website. (No offense Leo. We need your activism.) It speaks exactly to the grief I’m feeling in this moment and dares to catch a glimpse of what is on the other side of all of our complaining. (That’s the concluding line of Kentina Washington-Leaphart’s reflection in my email this week.)

Riffing on an Old Prayer

Just after Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg died, a snippet of a prayer I had written years ago for Proper 20A was shared in the United Church of Christ Instagram feed.

Humbling? Yes. Completely.

It is always surprising to me when words that I’ve written continue to have life. I thought it might be fun to actually adapt that prayer for this Sunday because we still have work to do. We have so much work to do.

Invocation 
Inspired by Philippians 2:1-13

Call us together, O God,
to find courage and comfort,
compassion and sympathy.

Call us together, O God, 
with all our lamentation and despair
all of our frustration and sorrow,
to make our joy complete.

Call us together, O God, 
to find ourselves of one heart
and one mind which admittedly
feels impossible in 2020.
Help us not to zero in 
only on our own interests
but to find the heart
and mind of Christ.
Humble us.
Empty us.
Bend us.

Call us together, O God, 
to strike the fury and passion
of your work into us again.
We have so much work to do.
Let us find your good pleasure 
in the work we share here and now, 
in Christ's presence we pray. Amen.

Other Service Prayers

I want to play with striking the rock but anything that I’ve attempted sounds too violent. There is enough violence. There is enough violence we are doing to ourselves and what we really need is trust. That is where these texts pull me. We can put our whole trust in God even as we fight against the divine. God can take it.

Prayer of Confession
Inspired by Exodus 17:1-7 

We thirst for answers, O God.
We thirst for clarity
and some prayer 
that this will all 
be over soon.

We thirst for comfort
and assurance because 
we are no longer certain 
that everything is going 
to work itself out.

It is why we thirst for justice 
for a broken healthcare system
and the sins of white
supremacy. We cannot believe
some of the things that we have prayed 
for in these weeks and months
and we thirst for your wisdom.

We thirst for your presence and
assurance but we have been 
so busy fighting with you
about all of the things that 
have gone wrong 
that we haven't really 
stopped to wonder
if you trust us anymore.

O God, what will you 
do with your people?
We are not yet done 
complaining because 
the infection rate still creeps up
and 200,000 people have died
for no reason. We are outraged
and exhausted. We thirst
for your grace and love
especially when we quarrel 
with you again. 

Quench our 
thirst, O God,
just enough to remind us
that we have work 
to do in your name. Amen.

If you find yourself without words again for the Prayers of the People again this week, I suggest this beautiful composition by Christopher Grundy. As the artist himself explains it, Leaning In is a “gentle, sung prayer of intercession” that breaks “down the sense of “us” and “them” that is often the pattern of such prayers.” There are several options for purchase including an audio file, lead sheet and piano accompaniment. There is a refrain that could be sung by a virtual choir while a cantor leads the verses. It would be lovely this week or any week.

Closing Worship

Though I haven’t offered a suggestion for closing worship before, I want this to be my prayer into the days ahead.

That’s all I’ve got for worship planning this week, though I seem to continually be editing this post so maybe you want to check back. I did, however, want to share a few other things. I discovered this week through social media that the fantastic Lindsay Andreolli-Comstock has created some wonderful pandemic-focused resources including one for those of us that are disappointed that trunk-or-treats and trick-or-treating should not be happening this year.

The planning packet Lindsay has created includes all sorts of goodies for a multi-day scavenger hunt among your congregation’s homes. It’s all socially distanced and includes instructions for everything. It’s the exhausted christian education director’s dream — and all for ten dollars. Be sure to add Trek or Treat to your cart. (And you might want to add the digital Christmas pageant to your cart while you’re at it.)

I’ve also been thinking about actually launching the newsletter I dreamed about years ago. (Has it been years? What is time?) My primary motivation at the moment is to do a better job in planning ahead so my goal would be to provide planning ahead materials on a monthly basis while I’d probably stick to a similarly unpredictable schedule on a weekly basis on the blog itself. There are some big things coming up like Advent and Christmas and I know I’m not the only one daydreaming about these things. Especially you’ve found my round-up of materials for stewardship, Backpack Blessings and World Communion Sunday helpful, I would love if you’d subscribe here. And to the 44 of you already subscribed, you’re the greatest.

I am always praying for you, dear pastors, liturgists and musicians. 

Pandemic Prayers for World Communion Sunday

In the churches I’ve served, this was always a Sunday people looked forward to. It wasn’t a celebration that they remembered from childhood but it was something that has become meaningful and important. There was always careful planning to make bread, prepare special liturgy and even host special events after worship. The table was always set with bold colors. There was a globe or a map or some other visuals to remind us that we are connected to a global community through the sharing of this feast. I think that is special and worth celebrating so here are some things to try while worshipping remotely.

Sharing of the Bread

My sweet Texas church has been offering communion kits every month including wafers and grape juice that have been blessed by the pastors while wearing masks and gloves. We live too far away to get one but it does make me wonder about all of those people who stockpiled yeast all those months ago. Certainly there are at least a few in your congregation. Could they be recruited to bake bread to be delivered to your members? It would be a big effort for a large congregation but perhaps it would be possible in smaller parishes where there are skilled saints who miss coordinating church dinners.

Or maybe you use the talents of one of those dear bakers and have themselves film the process of weighing, mixing and kneading the simple ingredients of making bread? Maybe some harvest songs play in the background or maybe you broaden this experience to include videos of harvesting wheat and grapes? Or could you use images of Christians around the world sharing the bounty of that harvest? You could use this if you are really, really desperate.

It could instead be a time when elements are gathered for the local food pantry to share food and drink with neighbors in need. If your local food pantry doesn’t have a list of things that are in short supply right now, you might encourage members to donate items that are familiar to the communion table around the world including bread, flour, tortillas, potatoes, rice and gallons of water.

I am not including the wide variety of prayers in languages other than English because I imagine you’ll use the gifts of your congregation.

Sharing Music

Our hymnals are full of wonderful songs about community and gathering at the table. I was tickled to see that Global Ministries gathered together all of the global hymns into an online resource for those that lost the index in the back of their hymnals. I am curious what will happen with worship streaming using Facebook Live with the recent changes to the platform and so I’m focusing on original music in what I suggest here.

My friend and colleague released his first album in 2013 that included Taste and See which would be fantastic to gather with at the table. Through his website, you can buy the digital track, the album and the sheet music. The first track on that same album entitled All God’s People would also work lovely in the beginning of worship unless you don’t want to tap your feet.

If the tone is meant to be more meditative, you might consider All Belong Here by The Many. It’s available through the Convergence Music Project as an audio file, a lead sheet, a lyric sheet, or a piano arrangement. Though there is no sample on the website, I’d also recommend Christopher Grundy’s Come to the Feast on the same site but it’s another one of those upbeat songs.

I am uncertain of the copyrights surrounding this but this might be how I would choose to end worship. It made me weep.

If you have talented musicians in your congregation ready to film themselves singing, you might offer them the free sheet music for Jorge Lockward’s Cuando El Pueblo. If you uncertain about copyright uses, his email is on the sheet music.

Sharing Words

There are so many beautiful words written for this day already that I can’t help but share a few favorites. At the top of the list would be my much loved copy of Gifts of Many Cultures edited by Maren Tirabassi and Kathy Wonson Eddy. Another book that I’m eager to get my hands on just came out from my seminary friend Claudio Carvalhaes entitled Liturgies from Below: Praying with People at the Ends of the World.

I have used Katherine Hawker’s lovely prayers many times but have a special place in my heart for her Presentation of the Breads. This would only work if the presider at the table is willing to have a ton of bread in their home that may actually go to waste. I also love the Alternative Table Prayer she recommends. I used this Call to Worship as an Invitation to the Table last year when I was still writing liturgy for my sweet Texas church. I just discovered and adore this simple prayer from the United Church of Canada. Whereas this blessing entitled And the Table Will Be Wide by Jan Richardson has been in my files for a long time, though it feels like it has new meaning now. For preachers that might want a break from preaching, you could build a service around these reflections on Why I Take Communion from 2010.

If you have followed these pandemic prayers, you’ve noticed that I have a penchant for poetry in worship and so I also have a few poems to offer including this one entitled Wheat. While it might not be right for every church, I adore Red Wine Spills by L. Ash Willams. Judy Chicago’s A Prayer for Our Nation might be a better fit. This is a horribly short list and I’m disappointed in myself so please go check out the books mentioned above.

Most of the years that I have marked this year with the congregations I’ve served, I’ve hunted for worship resources from other countries to use words that don’t sound quite as familiar. There are weekly prayers shared by Global Ministries from all our global partners (and I’m sure that your denomination has something similar) and a slew of ideas just for World Communion Sunday. Despite my resistance, here are some prayers that you can copy and paste because you are tired and don’t want to go searching for these things. That’s the whole point of this. For better or worse, I stuck with the texts for Proper 22A.

Call to Worship

Listen to the wild grapes.
Listen for the prophets
and builders of the future.
Can you hear something 
amazing? Might you 
even hear what God is doing?

Listen carefully
as you dig among the stones
in that fertile ground
full of expectation.
Listen for the crushing
violence of those first fruits.
Listen for another parable
of a bread broken and shared.
Can you hear the grace 
poured from that cup 
shared throughout all the earth?

Listen to all of the wild grapes
gathered to build
a future around this table.

The next prayer is a little different from what I usually might offer. While silence could follow for personal prayer and confession, I thought it might be worth considering a little bit to remember our baptisms. To do so, you could use something really long and elaborate. I’d suggest that this prayer be followed by a hymn (instrumental would be more meditative) and then begin this more traditional liturgy. Or you could opt for what I suggest below.

Prayer of Confession

With open ears, we come as a global people
to admit that the world is not as it should be.
We carefully cleared out all the stones
and planted only the best vines.
We thought we did everything right.
Or so we have told ourselves
again and again.

Listen, O God,
for these roots run deep.
There are things that we
have chosen to believe
because we didn't want
to see the violence
or corruption.
We wanted to believe
there was enough
and that all people were
working for good until
the harvest of this year.
It has crushed our hope.
It has broken our faith
and we need your grace
to rain down.
Wash us in your love
so that we can dare
to dream of the world
we could build
from so much waste.
Listen, O God,
to the cries of your people
around the world.

Silence is kept.

Remembering the Gift of Water
A large bowl of water is set in front of the speaker on camera.

We remember the gift of water
that nourishes the fertile ground
and allows wild grapes to thrive.
We whisper small wonder
over the miracle of running water
gushing from the spout
to wash our hands
clean with soap.
We notice the rain puddles and drops of dew 
that remind us again that 
the heavens brim with your love
raining down upon our heads with mercy.
Water reminds us again and again
that we might dive into new possibility
and be renewed. We remember with this water

Splash hands in water.

that we were once called beloved
and that the whole world
and all of its wild grapes
are equally beloved.

I would not be above sprinkling my computer or tablet or phone or whatever device is filming me to do a little blessing, saying simply, Remember the gift of water and be thankful. Amen. I am not interested in excluding anyone that has not been baptized from this moment and want to leave lots of room for the wild grapes within us and among us. These words are in my head.

If you opted for bread distribution among your people, you might even include a special blessing like a prayer card. I cannot find a sample I like. I might have to make one.

Or if you don’t want to do this whole baptism water business, you might opt for silent meditation that includes a homemade rain stick in the background if you don’t already have one in your minister’s closet. Have someone in the congregation make it for you, dear pastor, because they love crafts and you have enough to do. That person will be so excited to drop it off on your porch before Sunday.

Prayers of the People

Though this aspect of worship might usually happen later in the service, I might follow it after the act of Remembering the Gift of Water. Under that bowl of water, I’d have a map of the world. Off to the side, I’d have a basket of tea lights and a fire starter ready for this moment of prayer. The chat feature in Zoom could be used to uplift prayers for the global community or prayers could be gathered from the congregation through the congregation’s Facebook group during the week. Knowing that these forums are imperfect in gathering the prayers we wish to bring to God, I would prepare a list of petitions from the headlines that week.

After each petition, I’d light a tea light and place it upon the map over the correct country. After all of these prayers are voiced, I might close this prayer time in an adaptation of this Intercessory Prayer with some more expansive imagery around the divine or this prayer with zero changes.

That’s all I’ve got for this particular Sunday. I’d be thrilled to know what you use and what might help you plan for the future. Until then, please know that I am praying for you.

I am always praying for you, dear pastors, liturgists and musicians. 

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 20

It has been six months. I lost count.

I could have sworn it had been longer since my husband redeployed from South Korea and we almost immediately cancelled the vacation I’d been looking forward to for nine months and went into lockdown. We moved across the state but my kids and I remain in lockdown while my husband goes back and forth to work. Complaining feels good. It feels right. It matches my grief in this moment and so I’m drawn to the Exodus story where our ancestors find themselves, as Michael J. Chan points out, in the “uncomfortable space between departure and destination—or in the case of Exodus, between liberation and covenant.”

I feel less certain about the destination and more and more removed from the departure. I feel all the discomfort. I don’t think I’m the only one that feels this tension that is profoundly explored in the Letter to Philippi. I want to figure out what it means right now to “live in a manner worthy of the gospel of Jesus Christ” especially when I feel anything but firm in my Spirit. But then, there are many that are struggling with suicidal thoughts that I wonder how we dare to preach that bit about being pulled to depart but then choosing to remain in the flesh. There is good news in there. I know it, just as I know there is good news in you.

Gathering Together for Worship

Singing from the Lectionary suggests John Bell’s Stand, O Stand Firm for the epistle. I love the refrain and think it would be lovely to begin worship and repeat in the prayer time. You can find the full version for purchase here. You might even request your members send in pictures of themselves standing tall and use those images as a visual for this prelude.

Or you might be feeling really punchy and start worship with this. Kidding. Sorta.

I offer the words below but if you are focusing on the Gospel, you might prefer this beautiful invitation. Some of the prayers I wrote for Labor Day could also be adapted or you can find the liturgy I wrote six years ago for Worship Ways here. Here is another possibility that could work no matter what your focus text is.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Exodus 16:2-15 and Philippians 1:21-30

We come with the whole congregation
to find ourselves still in the wilderness
between where we were 
and where we are going
and we are full of complaint.

We cannot stop complaining
for what we do not understand
and whatever forces brought us here. 
We complain about our leaders
and the lack of available resources.
We bemoan every injustice
that now seems so obvious. 
We are tired and we are scared.

We come with this 
whole congregation
because we are convinced -- 
even in our constant complaint -- 
that there is joy.
There is abundant hope
when we can stand firm
in one spirit. Together,
we strive for the faith of the gospel.
Hope by hope, heart by heart,
we struggle together to see
what God will do.

Or for something completely different, you might start with a poem like Wait by Galway Kinnell particularly if you are wandering into the struggles of suicidal thoughts. It’s a poem I found reading this essay and I rather like the wildness of it. It might be followed by this favorite Taize song of mine.

Prayers for the Day

Picking up on the complaining spirit in Exodus, here is a confession and assurance to center this prayer time. I wonder if there might be an action for this week so that in the week ahead when members of the whole congregation notice that whine inside them, they could be compelled to act with hope. This simple recipe for gratitude might be an easy enough place to start. I’ve also wondered about neighborhood walks in the pandemic particularly for neighborhood churches.

Prayer of Confession

O God, we have complained so much.
We have felt stuck and scared
and so we've summoned the only power
we could find. We know you haven't seen our best sides.
Forgive us. Forgive us for ignoring that every whine
and worry reveals our hope. Help us 
not to not to get stuck in our fears 
but to lean into what we hope
will come in the future of your realm.

Assurance of Grace

I have heard your complaining, God assures us.
I have heard your worry and concern
and I will feed you with grace
and love and hope. I will assure you
that all is forgiven. You are my beloved,
now and always. Amen.

I also felt pulled to write a prayer that spoke to the particular words of the poem mentioned above and the issues surrounding mental health and the pandemic particularly in National Suicide Prevention Month. I wondered if I should write it as if this is happening to others but that would be dishonest for me. I’m not one of those people who has never considered this, particularly in my youth but even now. Still, I confess that this is an issue of which I’m still learning and so these words may drastically fall short and I hope that I will be corrected.

These words reflect my own struggle. As with so many things, we are works in progress but endlessly and completely in the struggle together. Or so I pray. Similar to the above prayer, this might be a good week to encourage some action particularly around suicide awareness if you use these prayers. I’ll link to the United Church of Christ toolkit because it is what I know best but there are tons of great resources out there.

Prayer for the Waiting

Wait with us, O God,
in the wilderness 
where it feels like we have been separated 
from every one and every thing we ever loved
only to be told to wait. We don't trust it.
We can't and maybe that is why depression 
and suicidal thoughts feel so familiar here.

We have complained 
and we have felt like nothing matters
even if we wish that everything did. 

Wait with us, O God,
in this wilderness
because it is familiar
and we haven't yet given up.
We are still waiting.

Wait with us, O God,
wait with all of us
who struggle with futility
and suicidal thoughts in this coronatide.
We pray in your holy name, Amen.

Prayers of the People

I haven’t written as many prayers of the people or intercessory prayers but I’ve seen that there is interest and need for them. It feels awkward to write as those prayers are so intimate for me. Those are the prayers I’ve prayed from the heart without a script for sheer love of these people God has called me to serve but I know you’re struggling for words so here are some great words that I found written by other wonderful people. It is admittedly a short list.

That’s all I’ve got for you this week. I hinted last week that I was going to do some thinking about All Saints and Christmas Eve but I hope to spend some time this week daydreaming about World Communion Sunday. It’s apparently soon. Gulp. There is so much to think about. I am continually in awe of you, my dear colleagues. You are amazing.

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

Pandemic Prayers for Proper 19

Though I didn’t do anything with the text last week, I’m still thinking about the question Kathryn Matthews posed in her weekly musings in the United Church of Christ’s Sermon Seeds about the grieving parents in the Passover story. How is this OK? How is any of this OK? How can God come along and strike down the first male child in every Egyptian household? How can we hold that grief now when 189,000 have died in our own country to COVID-19?

It’s a question she repeats in her reflection this week when she asks about the Egyptians swallowed up by the sea. It’s the same question that is stuck in my throat. It’s the grief that feel constant in these pandemic days. So, these prayers might not part any waters but those walls of tears that we are all so carefully holding at bay.

Gathering Together for Worship

A dear friend of mine texted a few weeks ago looking for words of comfort after a death in her family. It sent me looking for some of my favorite poems and reminded me that the early days of the pandemic added to my files with some lovely words that might be just what is needed to part the waters in your worship experience, including If the Trees Can Keep Dancing, So Can I. I also rather like If you had been here, Lord by Mark Goad and Kaddish by Marge Piercy. The last of which really fits well with the Exodus reading.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Psalm 114 and Romans 14:1-12

Tremble, O earth,
for everything that feels strange
and new. It has already shaken you.
It has already caused you to wonder.
It has shaken your faith
because every day feels the same
and it is harder and harder
to believe that tomorrow will be a better day.

Tremble, O earth,
feel that shiver down your spine
and that stirring in your heart
that knows, deeply,
we do not live to ourselves,
and we do not die to ourselves.
We live in hope.
We exist in love.

Tremble, O earth,
we gather in the presence of God,
the God of Jacob, Leah and Rachel,
Moses, Aaron and Miriam.
We gather to praise God who
never stops bringing wonder
and new life to the living and the dead.

Tremble, O people,
let us worship all we wonder.

Gathering Our Grief

I don’t think that there are enough prayers to articulate the tremendous loss that we are experiencing in the global community. There have been several beautifully stunning essays that have appeared upon my screen recently that I could imagine using in worship as sermon fodder or even to read excerpts mingled with scripture as a sort of lessons and carols, including one on collective and personal grief and this one that will just break your heart open again. You’ve made this worship thing happen remotely on the fly for over six month now, dear pastor. You can take a break from preaching. You deserve it. Here is a prayer to speak to the grief we all feel.

O God, there have been six million cases.
Over six million people have gasped for breath
and lost their sense of smell. 
Some have recovered by a number
that is too hard to account. 
Others have been on ventilators
in Intensive Care Units.
They died in sterile
hospital beds under the careful 
attention of nurses and doctors
hidden behind masks. They said 
goodbye to their families at 
the hospital doors without comprehending
that this would be the last time. 
O God, nearly two hundred thousand lives 
have been lost. Eight hundred ninety-eight thousand
lives around this earth have been lost.
It causes us to tremble. 
It shakes us to the core
and so we need you God.
We need you to stretch out your hand
to offer comfort hope. Bring your full 
presence into this pandemic moment 
so that we might feel your grace again. 
We pray in your wonder. Amen.

Praying Through Rage

Though I knew that the reality of this pandemic was impacting minority and immigrant communities ten times harder than others, I had not imagined how hard until I read about the ministry of this Mexican pastor in New York City. This prayer speaks to the tears I shed reading this story.

I’m not assuming your whole congregation read this story and so you might need to adapt it for your context or headlines that are more familiar to your people. If this doesn’t sound like grief to you, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross thought that the second stage of grief in death is anger. It comes after refusing to believe this thing is real. It’s where I find my current pandemic reality.

Hear Our Rage
Inspired by Exodus 14:19-31

Angel of God, move behind us
so that we might find ourselves
in a protected place
away from the corruption of empire
and greed, away from the powers that
make their own gods.

Light up the night
for there are things that we need to say
that only you can bear, O God.
Drive back the seas of polite prayers
and get ready for the pillar of grief
that has been wedged into our lives
since we first heard of COVID-19.
Stretch your mighty hand over
this fury and rage, O God.

Just as it was not fair to drown
the entire Egyptian Army that day, it is no more fair
to condemn your beloved kin to this virus.
On our best days, we believe its not your fault.
We know better. We are mature in our faith
but it is not OK that a man lies in terror

next to his dead brother in a studio apartment in New York City
because he fears deportation and lacks the funds
for a proper burial for his brother's decomposing body.
O God, this is the pillar of our grief.
Hear our rage.

"Why did you bring him here?"
should not be the first words 
shouted in English to an immigrant
who has just rushed his brother 
to the emergency room.
We are all scared of getting sick
but a language barrier should not deny anyone care.
O God, this is the pillar of our grief.
Hear our rage.

Our pastors phones constantly rings
their email dings every second
and their social media is haunted by the doomscrolling
of every tender heart in their care.
They need a break.
They are tired but this virus
refuses to retreat.
O God, this is the pillar of our grief.
Hear our rage.

There is no dry ground to stand on.
This pandemic rages on our right
and on our left. It towers over us.
O God, this is the pillar of our grief.
Hear our rage.

We are spinning our wheels
only to churn up mud and despair.
We are spinning our wheels
only to churn up mud and despair.
There is no escape
and we fear we might drown
in our lack of care for each other.
O God, this is the pillar of our grief.
Hear our rage.

We need your grace to lead.
On our left and on our right,
we need a waters of love and hope
to gently ease us into 
whatever comes next.
Move behind us and before us, O God.
Hold us in our fury
and help us to discover what good
this anger can become. For we know, O God,
even when we doubt,
that we do not live to ourselves
and you will bring new life
even out of death. We pray it will be so.

Another Thought

Years ago, I first heard the story of Nachshon who stepped into the water after Moses raised his staff over the water and nothing happened. He waded into the water until it was up to his nostrils and it was only then that the waters split. It didn’t feel like a story for this moment until I read this reflection that concludes:

When Nachshon and his people get to the other side of the sea, what is there to greet them? Not a Promised Land, but a wide, wild desert that will take years to navigate. Just because the sea splits doesn’t mean we know exactly where we are going or how we’re going to get there. But we do know this: The first steps are the hardest ones, and the most necessary. With those steps, with Nachshon, the story really begins.

Rabbi Adam Greenwald

I do not know exactly how this would tie into worship but it feels like there is something there because we are not yet on the other side of this pandemic, as much as we might dream about it. As with grief, we do not know where we are going or how we will get there but there is something about the steps we are taking now. There is something to the lament, the protest and even the dreaming. Something is beginning. I have to believe that.

That’s all I’ve got for you this week. I’ve also shared some ingredients (though maybe not a whole recipe) for stewardship and backpack blessings. This particular Sunday makes me wonder how we will honor the saints on All Saints Day and has me thinking about what Christmas Eve will look like for my family and yours when worship is not in-person. Maybe I’ll start some liturgies for those sooner rather than later. God knows, you are already thinking about those things.

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

Pandemic Prayers for Labor Sunday

This weekend celebrates the end of summer. It is one of those American holidays that is celebrated with backyard BBQs and family gatherings before school starts (or at least that was my norm as a child in the Northeast) without anyone really paying any heed to what Labor Day honors.

It seems especially important this year to pause and reflect on the true intention of this celebration that began back in 1882 with the Central Labor Union in New York City. It was, in fact, a day off of work with picnics and parades. The intention was to celebrate the economic and social accomplishments of workers. For those that hope that labor conditions will improve so that meat packers and teachers are safer and women are not drastically setback in their careers by this pandemic, it is on this Sunday that we dare to imagine what justice in the work place and in the field and in the factory and especially within the labor unions looks like. Maybe it’s also a Sunday to talk about how we care for the furloughed and jobless in your context. It’s a little late in the game to organize Labor in the Pulpits but there are certainly ways to uplift the rights of workers right now in your prayers and in your preaching.

Having just read how farmers in Wisconsin may determine the election, I’m find myself thinking a lot about farmers and food justice. I might find a way to include this superb video from the Coalition of Immokalee Workers.

Or in the spirit of Labor in the Pulpits, I might use one of these personal reflections from the Interviews Playlist on their YouTube channel. I might even use the epistle as the focus text and follow that reading with and use one of these videos to highlight what it might look like to live honorably in this day.

Gathering Together for Worship

I wonder what might be the most familiar sound to begin the work day for those in your congregation. Might it be the coffee pot percolating or the sound of a time card being punched? Might it be a whistle or an alarm clock? Is it the sound of a computer booting up after slumber or the sound of children doing what they should not supposed to be doing on the baby monitor next to your head? (That might just be me.) Maybe that’s the first sound that begins worship before even the prelude.

Or if you can find a version of Bringing in the Sheaves that doesn’t hurt your ears (or eyes) on YouTube, that would be a lovely start as would O God, We Call for Justice by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette. Whatever sound you choose to begin the work of worship with your people, here is an invitation to follow.

Call to Worship
Inspired by Psalm 119:33-40

Wake us up, O God.
Rub the sleep out of our eyes
and put us right into
the work of justice and love.

Wake us up, O God.
Open our eyes to the needs
of essential workers and day laborers.
Call our attention to those
booting up their computers
to toil over the kitchen table
for another eight hours
and those that are flipping
through the classifieds
after being laid off five months ago.
Give us understanding
and open our whole hearts
to what love and justice
mean right now.

Wake us up, O God.
Lead us into this new day
guided by your commandments.
Give us cause to delight
and turn our hearts away
from selfish gain.
Remind us again,
O God, what can happen
when two or three
gather in your name.

Here is an alternate version that I wrote last year. I’ve adapted it to reflect the epistle reading for this year. I feel like it should reflect the psalm but I don’t like it. I might still like the old version better. It also only reflects one voice rather than a responsive reading that is so commonly used in in-person worship.

Call to Worship
Adapted for Romans 13:8-14

Worker God, whose hands built the earth,
molded our bodies, and sowed the stars across the sky,
we gather in your presence this morning
to remember your commandments
summed up in the this word, love your neighbor as yourself.

Meet us here, Worker God;
it is now the time to wake from sleep
and fulfill your law in love for each worker
and so that all might live honorably every day.

Confessions and Collects

Though I feel like I should write something new, I have now gone to look at last year and I’m just going to post those prayers. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not convinced that the unison prayer to confession works in the streamed format. This prayer reflects that with a call to confession that leads to silence. It is perhaps an unfamiliar format but it’s what I’ve got.

It has been adapted to reflect the gospel for this year and I’ve also expanded the particular workers named. Please adapt to your context, like maybe Whataburger isn’t such a thing where you are. It is here. Oh, but it is here.

Call to Confession
It’s time to put away smugness, clichés,
and worn out self-serving political sound bites.
Let us come before God to seek new understanding of
what is fair and what is just. Let us listen
not to one or two laboring beside us
but let us listen to the needs of all
workers so that we bend our ears
to hear from garbage collectors, census takers,
Whataburger employees, ranchers and farmers,
contact tracers and scientists, bartenders and cooks,
volunteer fire fighters, domestic servants, hospital and hospice workers,
teachers, professors and administrators, and so many others
that are overlooked or undervalued as this pandemic rages on.
Let us confess before God that we are too comfortable
and that we’re more likely to concern ourselves with our own fairness.
Let us repent of our selfishness and open our hearts to still more love and justice.

Silence for personal prayer and confession. 

Assurance of Grace
What has been in the past does not have to define the future.
God’s grace can transform us, will transform us.
Receive this good news and move in a new direction.
Thanks be to God. Amen.

I spent too much time wondering about the volunteer fire fighters. That is what existed in my hometown and I know that is true in many places but I did not know exactly how to parse this grave injustice into one phrase. It is just one example in this pandemic of what worker conditions are, never mind the sheer disregard for human worth in the prison system as it exists right now.

There are some more lovely prayers created by and for the United Church of Christ and some possible sermon illustrations particularly focused on essential workers have been gathered by the Communities of Calling initiative of the Collegeville Institute.

I confess that when I am in doubt about how to pray, I turn to the Book of Common Prayer because there is always one that nearly speaks to my particular concern. There are so many that could be linked together for a pastoral prayer: for social justice, for agriculture, for schools and colleges, for the unemployed, for sound government (cough cough)… Each collect could be followed by “O God, hear our prayer” or “In your mercy, we pray” before wrapping it up with that familiar prayer that Jesus taught us. It’s not how the prayer book was intended to be used but it will work if you are tired and have no words of your own, dear pastor.

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 planning together. I’ve also shared some ingredients (though maybe not a whole recipe) for stewardship and backpack blessings.

Dear pastors, liturgists and musicians, I’m praying for you, as always. I’m also sorry that I’m posting this so late in the week. I know many of you post your services on Thursdays. I’m praying for you all the more.