Call to Worship
L:
From the shadows of isolation and shutdowns
P:
we gather to be with our God
who brings us the light of hope.
L:
From the silence of our homes
or in socially distanced worship spaces,
P:
we gather to be with Jesus,
who will not let anything, now or ever,
separate us.
L:
From the hollowness of our hearts
and the hunger for human touch,
P:
we gather to be with the Spirit,
who feeds us for the Lenten journey,
who marks us as God’s very own.
Evening Prayer
Even
if we had them
from
a year ago, God of our lives,
we
would not be able
to
burn the palm branches,
for
they would be too soaked
by
the tears of loneliness, of emptiness,
of
these months of so much uncertainty.
But
we do bring ashes
in
this moment, this day, this night,
Companion
on our journey,
those
ashes from an overwhelming year,
the
ashes from dreams turned to nightmares,
the
ashes of the jobs we lost,
the
anniversaries, the birthdays, the graduations,
the
weddings, the funerals we dared not attend.
So,
Spirit of the silence of our days,
take
these ashes of our lives
and
mingle them with the dust
from
our crumbled hearts
and
our shattered souls, to mark us
with
that hope which has never left us
even
though we may not have realized
that
it, like you, was as close
as
the very next breath we take.
As
we gather wherever we are,
as
we hold out our empty hands
and
our emptier hears and souls,
we
would offer that prayer
we
have been taught,
(The
Lord’s Prayer)
Invitation to the Lenten life
It was not with great confidence
or
that assurance which had no doubts,
which
were companions with Jesus
as
he journeyed to what awaited in Jerusalem.
It
was the uncertainty of what might happen,
it
was the loneliness of the pilgrimage
as
he experienced more and more isolation,
especially
from friends who stayed as far away as possible.
So,
after our year of uncertainty, loneliness, distancing,
we
may realize afresh what this season
called
Lent is truly all about.
For
we have been in the wilderness tempted,
like
Jesus to trust in those who told lies,
who
offered false hopes, who longed for us
to
embrace their broken promises.
Not
for the first time, yet fresh once more,
we accompany Jesus to Jerusalem.
We have known what it is like
to
have to fast from human companionship,
and
to struggle to find the words
to
offer in prayer to our God.
We
have struggled from endless day
to
weeks that seemed as long as months
to
keep the practices of faithful living
which
would strengthen us to work
for
justice, to offer hope, to not give up.
So,
in these moments and in the coming days,
may
we draw comfort and energy
from
those timeless acts passed down to us
of silence, feasting on the word, and prayer.
As we remember our baptism into faith,
as we gather at the feast of grace,
as we are marked as Christ’s own,
we prepare ourselves to come to God,
on this holy night.
Call to Reconciliation
On this night which has seemed to last a year, we once again begin that
pilgrimage toward the promised of Easter.
But, fresh as this moment and as old as the dust of the earth, we must
speak of how hard it has been for us to be the faithful people God calls. Let us pray together, saying,
Unison Prayer for Forgiveness
We have tried, God who knows our intentions,
we have tried so hard to be your people, especially in these times of confusion,
fear, and worry. We did a good job, at
first, caring for those worse off than us, but now it has become easy to care
more for ourselves. We are uncomfortable
seeing ourselves as people of privilege, yet quickly cashed those relief checks
when they could have gone to those in true need. We gave in, too often and too easily, to the
easy lies about how this pandemic was nothing to worry about, rather than
listening to the ones who knew what they were talking about.
Yet, while we know how badly we have tried,
we know that from the ashes of our foolish choices and lives, you can create
new life and hope, God of broken hearts.
You mark us as your own, so we can turn from greed to generosity, so we
can move from fear to faith, so we can stand with the oppressed and forgotten,
to ensure that the justice we take for granted is shared with them. You mark us as your own, so that we might
follow Jesus, who models for us how to turn away from evil to live as people of
hope and grace. Amen.
Silence
is kept
Assurance of Pardon
L:
Here is the good news: God does not socially distance from us, but comes close
to hear our prayers, to fill our emptiness, to walk through the ashes of
uncertainty, to journey with us in this holiest of seasons.
P: In the midst of a pandemic of uncertainty, we
can trust in the comforting, the forgiving, the restoring heart of the God who
loves us. Thanks be to God! Amen.
Imposition of the ashes
Perhaps we remembered to save
those
palm branches from last year’s
services
which had to be cancelled.
But
if not, we have enough ashes,
those
which come from our shriveled souls,
those
which we gather up from dreams deferred,
those
from the grief which is too painful to touch.
But,
by the grace of our God
who
has been with us in every moment,
we
can take these ashes,
both
real as well as metaphorical
mixing
them with the oil of grace
so
that we can touch our heads, our hands,
our
hearts, our souls, our hopes
with
them, whether real or virtual
reminding
us that, from the dust
of
a year which has crumbled around us,
God
touches us with those never-ending gifts
of
reconciliation and hope
of
justice and restoration
of
generosity and grace-filled hearts,
so
that we might once again, and always,
live
as the people God longs for us to become.
whether we are touched by another,
or
mark ourselves as God’s own,
may
we never forget that,
though
we are dust and will return to dust,
God
continues to create life and hope
from
the dust of the stars, as well as us. Amen.
(In these uncertain moments, some will be able to be marked with the ashes
physically, while others may be reminded of their mortality, as well as their
place in God’s heart, by making the sign of the cross on their foreheads or the
backs of their hands)
Invitation
to the Table
Whether
at home or in an apartment,
in
a college room or a socially distanced sanctuary,
you
are invited to come to this feast.
This
is the Table of our God,
it
is not the church’s table, nor the ministers.
It
is the table which reminds us
that
in the uncertainty of our lives,
God’s
grace has never departed.
It
is the table where we are fed
by
the justice, the hope, the life
which
flows from the heart of Jesus.
It
is the Table where every single
child
of God is welcome, for here
the
Spirit fills us with peace and community,
even
though be may be apart from one another.
The Great Prayer of Thanksgiving
L: The God of ashes is with us in these moments.
P:
And our God is with you, as well.
L: In the midst of our uncertain lives,
may we offer God our hearts hungering for
hope.
P:
For God has promised to fill them to overflowing.
L:
In the silence of these lonely days,
may we find the words to praise our God.
P:
Even though the words may not come to us,
God knows our hearts and souls, and that is
enough.
L:
In the pandemic of chaos, you spoke,
God
of amazing goodness,
wiping out shadows with twinkling stars,
filling rivers and oceans with living waters,
pouring the waters into rivers and seas,
sowing seeds of wonder into the fields.
You shaped us, your children,
out
of the dust of the earth,
handing
to us all that beauty and joy
which
flows ceaselessly from your heart
but we ground your hopes into the dirt,
as we raced to catch up with death,
clutching tight to temptation’s gifts.
Yet, however far we tried to go,
or
wherever we thought you couldn’t find us,
you
were there waiting for us,
to
remind us of your great love for us,
longing
to keep your promises of faithfulness.
With our sisters and brothers everywhere,
in the silence of our loneliness
and
in the shadows of uncertainty,
we sing songs of praise:
P: In the midst of uncertainty, your presence is
constant.
In the loneliness of isolation, you are by
our side.
In every moment, you do not leave us
alone.
All glory and praise is due to you, Holy
and Loving God!
Your never-failing love is sealed
upon
our empty hearts, God of holiness,
and
Jesus is the One who reminds us
that
we are never apart from you.
The
struggles and worries which have
been
velcroed to us this past year?
They were his constant companion.
The
isolation we have experienced
from
those dearest to us?
That was the loneliness which
gnawed at his soul.
The
fear of death which has been
such
a presence every day?
That was the reality he faced
as he journeyed to Jerusalem?
The
hope that somehow, someway,
new
hope, new life, new grace might appear?
That was the wonder he realized
as the tight grip of death
was broken by resurrection love.
as we continue to walk through uncertainty,
as
we would be marked with the ashes
of
our loneliness, our isolation, our days,
we remember that mystery known as faith:
P: Christ held nothing back, especially his heart;
Christ
was raised, the voice for the forgotten;
Christ will come to bring us to new
life.
Now, at the Table of grace and life,
we
pray you would pour out your Spirit,
not
only on the gifts of the feast,
but
on your children, God of our lives,
wherever
we may be in this moment.
Like
our dreams and hopes this past year,
the
bread is broken and offered to us,
so,
we pray that it might strengthen us
that
we might continue to serve
the most lonely in our midst
the neighbors who grieve a death,
the people struggling with injustice.
Though
we have drunk many bitter tears,
in
these moments we are given
the
cup which overflows with grace,
so
that we might be able to
see you in the midst of our lives,
feel you holding our hands on this journey,
trust that you are bringing healing and
hope.
And when this pandemic becomes history,
when
we can once again gather in your house,
with
our sisters and brothers around
the
glad feast of hope and life,
we
will sing your praises over and over,
God in Community, Holy in One. Amen.
Sending
L:
This Ash Wednesday,
we bear the smudges of uncertainty,
P:
yet we will still trust in God’s promises.
L: This Ash Wednesday,
we may share the Feast by ourselves,
P:
yet we will join the Host at the Table
in going to care for the vulnerable all
around us.
we will go out to share God’s forgiveness
L:
This Ash Wednesday, we may continue
to journey into an unknown future,
P:
yet we will continue to walk in faith
with the Spirit who lights the way.
© 2021 Thom M. Shuman
