Saturday, March 21, 2020

Worship service in a time of isolation (Lent 4 - A)


Texts: 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41

Gather in silence

Call to Worship
In silent sanctuaries, in hour hopes or apartments,
wherever we are in these moments of worship,
early each morning, God waits to greet us with joy and wonder.
We awake to find ourselves enveloped in grace.
During these days of isolation and worry,
in this time of uncertainty and feat,
Jesus challenges us with the possibility of faith.
Even in these times of safe distancing
and caring for others, as well as ourselves,
we can offer healing and hope to others.
In the shadowed evenings when fear lurks outside,
and we long to hear the lullabies of grace,
the Spirit is with us.
The Light of life is shines on us 
from early morning until we say our prayers,
comforting us in the shadows of sleep.

Prayer of the Day
One thing we know,
Listener to our hearts:
     you are the One
     who journeys with us
     in these days of confusion,
     and who waits for us at
     our final destination.

One thing we know,
Healer of our lives:
     when we find ourselves
     in valleys veiled in shadows,
     you are walking alongside us
     even though we may never notice.

One thing we know,
Comforter of our souls:
     when we are weakened
     by the burdens of our lives,
     when fears disrupt our lives,
     you come to us, to rest
     your strengthening peace upon us.

One thing we know,
God in Community, Holy in One:
once we could not see you in every moment,
but now our eyes are opened wide,
and so, we pray together, saying,
(The Lord's Prayer)

Song    sing, recite, chant, listen to a favorite or comforting hymn or song of faith

Call to Reconciliation
In these days, when we have more time to be worried and fearful, God longs for us to sit by the still waters of love.  But our isolation confuses us, our loneliness heightens our doubts, our doubts seem to lessen our ability to be children of God.  Let us bring our prayers to the One who will restore us with goodness and mercy, as we pray together, saying,

Unison Prayer for Forgiveness
     Like Cinderella, Loving God, we sit in the ashes of our hopes, but you see us as your beloved children.  We pay strict attention to all who hoard but ignore the opportunities we have to share with others.  When we think you are as limited in being able to move and act and live as we are, you continue to burst forth to bring hope and newness into the world.
     Have mercy on us, God of forgiveness, and open our eyes to your presence among us.  As you look at our hearts, may we see others in a different way, not as enemies or strangers, but sisters and brothers of the same family, kin to Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior.  Amen.

Silence is kept

Assurance of Pardon
The Spirit of the Lord has come upon us, bringing hope, life, and forgiveness for each person.
Now we will go forth as God's children, sent to bring the good news to everyone we meet.  Amen.

Reading from the Hebrew Scriptures                                        1 Samuel 16:1-13
Before the reading:  O strength of the weary, O hope of the lonely
                               O joy of our hearts, O love of your people.
                                        Speak to us now through your word.  Amen.

Psalm of the Day                                                                        Psalm 23

Song    sing, recite, chant, listen to a favorite or comforting hymn or song of faith;
one based on the 23rd psalm might be appropriate or could replace the reading.

A Letter to the Church                                                               Ephesians 5:8-14

The Gospel                                                                                  John 9:1-41

After the reading:     The grass withers, the flower fades,
                                    But the word of our God stands forever.  Amen.

Reflection of the day

How quickly things change!  Just a few weeks ago, we gathered for our Ash Wednesday service, to hear familiar readings, to be marked with the ashes from palms we had used on Palm Sunday in previous years, and to be reminded of our mortality, with the familiar and strangely comforting, ‘from dust you came; to dust you shall return.’  Then, most of us went home that night, scrubbed the smudges off our heads or the backs of our hands, had our snack, turned on the television, and finally crawled into our beds.  

And now?  Now we are learning to live Lent in a completely different way, perhaps to finally realize what Lent is all about – that journey with Jesus towards his death; a reminder that the journey we began the day we were born takes us toward our death.  Now, we are seeking to discover if we have that same trust, that same courage, that same obedience as Jesus did, to follow God as we journey down the dusty road of life.

And now?  Now we are struggling to learn to live in a completely different way.  Compelled by our hopes to stay healthy, as well as encouraged by wise authorities to do so, we are spending far more time at home than we ever did.  Now, more people are working from home, having children or grandchildren in the house for hours in the day we did not expect, seeing our everyday routines overturned, and discovering even the simple chore of wanting to go to the store to get a few things offers major challenges.  All those things that we took for granted just a few weeks ago, now cause us to ask, is it worth the risk?  Are we willing to take the risk?
Our scripture readings speak to people living in such times, struggling to discover how to live in risky times, seeking to discern where our God is in such moments, in such days as which we are living.

The reading from the first book of Samuel is a political one.  The current leader, Saul, has not only proven to be a disappointment to the people, but especially to God.  So  God sends the prophet, Samuel, to find the heir apparent.  But it is not the person Samuel expects.  It’s not the oldest son of Jesse, which was the way things would be done back then; and it’s not the strongest; and it’s not the smartest.  It’s the youngest son, it’s the kid given the least favorable job, it’s the person overlooked when the casting call first is issued.  Long before Jesus ever showed up and reminded us of this sacred truth, God takes the risk of making the last first, moves the person at the end of the line to the front, takes the server at the banquet and lets them give the keynote address. 

And in doing so, God simply challenges Samuel, Jesse and his sons, the nation of Israel, and everyone who hears this story thousands of years later to imagine the possibility of a God who is willing to take a risk; of a life which imagines the possibility of a faith in such a God.

That’s also what happens in today’s gospel reading.  There is a fellow in this story.  He finds himself cut off from the rest of society.  He is isolated by his family; he does not have a home to go to; his heritage has abandoned him; he cannot find comfort and hope from a faith community.  Sound familiar in these days – with folks self-quarantining, keeping a safe physical distance from one another, our churches having to close out of an abundance of caution? 

And then along comes Jesus.  Yes, it is a healing story.  And we trust that God continues to do healing through the doctors and nurses on the front lines of this pandemic; in the researchers seeking a vaccine; in the lab people overwhelmed by the numbers of tests sent to them.  But more importantly, in the moments in this story, in the conversations Jesus has with various folks, the possibility of faith is offered to all.  The possibility of believing that, in whatever circumstance we find ourselves, faith is there right beside us.  Like the folks in the story, do we dare to take a risk in the possibility of such faith.

How do folks find such faith, be willing to take such a risk?  In a time when folks were spiritually isolated because of choosing to follow Jesus, when folks were being distanced physically because of that belief, the author of the letter to the Ephesians, has a word for them, and for us.  In the midst of such an upheaval in life, in finding ourselves in the shadows of fear and worry, the writer challenges us to find the light God offers to us, to become children of that light.

How are we to live in such days as these?  That author from long ago says that we do so be seeking to do good, to do what is the right (just as we know what is right to do), and to do what is true?  We are to live in such a way that pleases God.  What does that mean?  Well, we will not hoard hope, anymore than we will toilet paper; we will not buy up all the water, anymore than we will grab up all the grace; we will not cling to life, the way we cling to false promises.  We will be children of light.  We will take the risk of faith being a possibility for these times, as we share life, grace, hope with all around us.

And as we do, we can take words of hope and comfort from those ancient words that may be the most familiar from all of Scripture – the beloved 23rd Psalm.  Usually used these days at funerals, the words offer the same challenge we have been talking about.  Are we willing to take a risk on the possibility of faith?  Are we willing, in these anxious times, to rest in God’s cradling arms?  Are we willing to drink deeply from the waters of live, and not the brackish water of panic?  Are we willing to be led by the hands of hope and grace into the sure future God has for us?  This psalm is all about faith, the possibility of placing our times, our hearts, our love in the hands of the One who sustains us in every moment. 

Dare we take that risk?

God is the health care folk
all around us:
encouraging us to stay home;
reminding us to wash our hands
so we can help others be safe;
teaching us how to be mindful
and watch over ourselves and others.

even as we shelter in place,
we will not give in to fear,
for God is with us,
in those who call us and care for us,
in those who shop for us,
and those who treat us.

around a lonely table,
in a houseful of family,
in a hospital with strangers,
God feeds us with grace,
pouring out hope upon us,
filling us with peace in sleepless night.
i know, without any doubt,
that God's gentleness and compassion
are walking right beside us,
showing us the way home
to the One who holds us 
in Love's Heart forever.

God in Community, Holy in One.  Amen.


Offering moment
In your homes, alone or with others, think about the blessings of grace, hope, kindness which have come your way in these days.  Reflect on how, even while distancing ourselves from others, we can still reach out to them to show God’s love and presence in their lives.  Then offer the following prayer.

Prayer of Dedication/Offering
With you as our shepherd and by sharing our gifts, we can indeed anoint others with grace, prepare feasts for the hungry, welcome the stranger, and love those we consider to be our enemies.  Bless these gifts, and use our lives for others, we pray.  Amen.

(You may wish to celebrate the Lord’s Supper this day.  Whether alone, or with others; whether you have bread, wine, or grape juice; whether you have crackers and milk; whatever might symbolize the grace of God for you in these times, and which would remind you of the Spirit’s presence in these moments, and Jesus’ love for you in these days, use them.  Or if you prefer, simply use this as the pastoral prayer, remembering to lift up others at some point in the prayer)

Communion song might be Let Us Break Bread Together

Great Prayer of Thanksgiving
May the God of still waters be with you.
And also with you.
Lift your hearts to the One who gives you rest.
We open ourselves to God, who restores us.
Join together in glad songs of praise to God.
We rejoice in the One who is our comfort and hope.

You prepared a feast of wonder
for us, Imagination beyond power,
when creation burst forth:
     green pastures radiant with sunflowers;
     cool, still pools for rest and renewal;
     paths formed by antelopes up mountainsides.
Your heart overflowed with love
as you showed us what to do
that we might live with you in peace.
     But looking at sin and death,
     we said, 'surely these are the
     ones we should follow,' and
     trailed after them.
You would not reject us,
but sent prophets to pursue us,
calling us to return to you.
     But we did not know
     where they came from
     and so ignored them.
Then you sent Jesus to us,
providing a Savior for yourself,
and for those who wander death's valleys,
so we might be brought home to you.

With all who once lived in the shadows,
but now walk in the light of grace,
we sing glad thanksgivings to you:

Holy, holy, holy are you, God our Shepherd.
All that is good and right and true sings your praises.
Hosanna in the highest!

 Blessed is the One who prepares this Table for us.
 Hosanna in the highest!

You are goodness, God of pastures and pools,
and Jesus Christ, your Son, is our mercy.
He came peacefully,
     so our differences might be reconciled.
As he walked along,
     he brought light to those
     who could not see the way.
Seeing the foolish choices we made,
     he decided to look at our hearts,
     so we might be drawn closer to you.
Your anointed One,
     he went into death's deepest valley,
     coming forth as the Risen One,
     bathed in resurrection's life.

Once we were children of the shadows,
but now we are heirs of the Light of Christ,
and so we speak of that faith we know as a mystery:

Christ died, his spirit broken on the cross;
Christ was raised, the Spirit of God coming upon him with joy;
Christ will come, the Spirit shining upon us.

Here is the Table prepared for us,
God of still waters and deep love,
your Spirit transforming the simple gifts
of the bread and the cup into
that goodness and mercy which is always with us.
We take the bread, broken for our healing,
and share it with one another
so we may go forth and do all
that makes your heart race with joy:
     bringing hope to those who are isolated,
     listening to the voices of the fearful.
We take the cup which overflows with grace,
and take it to pour out on
     all who journey in uncertainty,
     all who long for community
     in these times of physical distancing.

And when our journeys have ended
around the Table prepared for us in glory,
we will join our hearts and voices
with those from every age and time
and forever sing your praises,
God in Community, Holy in One.  Amen.

(Break the bread, crackers, whatever, giving thanks to God for the body of Jesus, given for all.  Then share.
Whatever represents the cup, it has been blessed by this prayer, share it with others, praying that the spirit of Jesus love and grace might be in all).

Concluding song      Amazing Grace

Sending
Now go to take the love of God into the world.
We will show others the way to God's fields of grace.
Now go to take grace of Jesus into the world.
We will seek to bring others to the still waters of peace.
Now go to take the community of the Spirit into the world.
We will work to restore the lives of all whom we meet.

(c) 2020 Thom M. Shuman