Category / Liturgies

by Stacey Gleddiesmith

Sowing and Reaping: A Liturgy

Galatians 6:7-9 

Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. People reap what they sow. Those who sow to please their sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; those who sow to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

Galatians 6:7-8 

Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. People reap what they sow. Those who sow to please their sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction

 

Lord, we have indeed reaped destruction.

We have sought to please our sinful natures.

We have sinned against you in thought, word and deed,

by what we have done and by what we have left undone.

We have not loved you with our whole hearts;

we have not loved our neighbours as ourselves.

We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.

For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ,

have mercy on us and forgive us;

that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your name.

LORD HAVE MERCY, CHRIST HAVE MERCY, LORD HAVE MERCY ON US

 

Galatians 6:8

those who sow to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.

 

Almighty God, to you all hearts are open,

all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid:

Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit,

that we may perfectly love you and worthily magnify your holy Name; through Christ our Lord.

LORD HAVE MERCY, CHRIST HAVE MERCY, LORD HAVE MERCY ON US

 

Galatians 6:9 

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.

 

Father, we are so very weary.

There is so much to do.

We confess that we have been caught up in the false goals of this world.

We confess that we have been sidetracked from the work you have set for us.

We have turned aside to other pursuits that are not of you.

Draw our hearts back to you.

Awaken our mouths to your praise.

Awaken our ears to your words.

Awaken our eyes to your presence.

Awaken our hearts to your love.

Awaken our minds to your wisdom.

Awaken our feet to your path.

Awaken our hands to your work.

In your mercy, do not let us become weary in doing good

LORD HAVE MERCY, CHRIST HAVE MERCY, LORD HAVE MERCY ON US

 

Luke 8:11-15 

“This is the meaning of the parable: The seed is the word of God. Those along the path are the ones who hear, and then the devil comes and takes away the word from their hearts, so that they may not believe and be saved. Those on the rock are the ones who receive the word with joy when they hear it, but they have no root. They believe for a while, but in the time of testing they fall away. The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature. But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop.

 

Lord, prepare us.

Till us, turn our soil. Remove rocks, pull weeds, clear thorns.

Feed us with your righteousness, that we might be righteous.

Give us the water of life, that we might live.

In your mercy, may your words fall upon us

may they put down roots, may they send up leaves, may they produce fruit – that in turn produces fruit.

Fill us with the power of your Spirit, that we might persevere.

Fill us with the light of your presence, that we might grow.

We want to persevere, to serve you, to produce a crop,

but it is your word that will grow – your word that will spring up from the ground

your word that will produce fruit.

We surrender to you our hopes and dreams.

We surrender to you our plans and desires.

We surrender to you our families, our friends, our work

Lord, sow your seed in our lives

Reach your hands into the soil of our lives and make that seed grow

Grant us the opportunity to see the fruit of your word.

LORD HAVE MERCY, CHRIST HAVE MERCY, LORD HAVE MERCY ON US

 

Isaiah 55:10-11 

God says to Israel, to us: As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. The word that goes out from God’s mouth: will not return to Him empty, but will accomplish what He desires and achieve the purpose for which He sent it.

AMEN

by Stacey Gleddiesmith

Advent Readings, 2012

 

 

This year our church is moving through John 1:1-18 for the four weeks of Advent and for our Christmas Eve service. We will be exploring the themes of creation, light, home, glory, and becoming. Each service will begin with a full reading of John 1:1-18, and before the sermon we will use the following readings as we light our Advent candle – followed by the singing of O Come O Come Emmanuel (without the chorus – until we get to Christmas Eve, at which time it will be sung raucously and with great joy several times over!).

 

First Week of Advent, December 2: Creation

John 1:1-3

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of your life: within us, within your world. We light this candle in the knowledge that without you, there is nothing. You are our life.

Prayer: Dear Lord, we are thankful for your life. We see you everywhere we look: in the beauty you have created, in the relationships you have given us, and in the many blessings we have received from your hand. But we do not live in the fullness of your life. We turn back, time and time again, toward our own sin—toward death. The world you created is mired in oppression, injustice, pain, and death—and sometimes we wonder where you are. You were there at the beginning. You are here now, even in the midst of our darkness. Living God, we long for you to come again and bring the fullness of your life. Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

Congregation Sings: verse one only of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” (no chorus).

 

 

Second Week of Advent, December 9: Light

John 1:4-8

4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.  6 There was a man sent from God whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. 8 He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of your light: within us, within your world. We light this candle in the knowledge that without you, there is only darkness. You are our light.

 Prayer: Dear Lord, we are thankful for your light. We see it in the eyes of our children, in the kindness that we are shown, and in the many blessings we have received from your hand. But we do not live in the fullness of your light. Too often we shade our eyes and turn away toward the overwhelming darkness: toward famine, and sickness, and war. But you said “Let there be light“—and the darkness was shot through with the glory of your presence. Bright Morning Star, come again into our darkness and declare the night over, and day begun… Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Congregation Sings: verse one and two only of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” (no chorus).

 

 

Third Week of Advent, December 16: Home

John 1:9-13

9 The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. 11 He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. 12 Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— 13 children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of your home: within us, within your world. We light this candle in the knowledge that without you we have no home. You are our home.

 Prayer: Dear Lord, we are thankful that you have made your home with us. We find you at home in our conversations, in our actions, and in our thoughts. But we do not always feel at home with you. We do not always recognize you. In the midst of strife and conflict, in the middle of illness and pain, we often don`t see you for who you are. But you have come, and you are coming. You have made us your family, and we long for you to come and live with us again—to sit at our table… Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Congregation Sings: verse one, two, and three only of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” (no chorus).

 

 

 

Fourth Week of Advent, December 23: Glory

John 1:14-18

14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. 15 (John testified concerning him. He cried out, saying, “This is the one I spoke about when I said, ‘He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.’”) 16 Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given. 17 For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known.

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of your glory: within us, within your world. We light this candle in the knowledge that without you there is no grace or truth. You are our grace and truth.

 Prayer: Dear Lord, we are thankful that you have revealed your glory to us. We see it in the words you have left for us to follow, in the friendships you have granted us, and each time another person turns to you. But we do not always live according to your glory. Sometimes we look around us and we sink into despair. We are defeated by the suffering and delusion all around us. But you have already won the victory. We long to see your victory brought to completion. Lion of Judah, come quickly to shatter our despair with your grace and truth… Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Congregation Sings: verse one, two, three, and four only of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” (no chorus).

 

 

Christmas: Becoming

John 1:1–18

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

6 There was a man sent from God whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all might believe. 8 He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.

9 The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. 11 He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. 12 Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— 13 children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.

14 The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

15 (John testified concerning him. He cried out, saying, “This is the one I spoke about when I said, ‘He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.’”) 16 Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given. 17 For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in closest relationship with the Father, has made him known.

 

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of our faith in you. We light this candle in the knowledge that without you there is no faith. You are our faith.

 Prayer: Dear Lord, we have waited so long. And still we wait. But on this day, on this night we shout into the darkness and declare the victory of your light. For you have come. And by coming you have made us into something more than simply a people waiting in darkness. You have given us your life. You have given us your light. You have made your home with us. You have revealed to us your glory. You have made, and you are making us. You put on human flesh like a robe—wore our fragility like a cloak about you. But more than that. You are fully human. Vulnerable. Weak. But more than that. You are fully God. Powerful. Victorious. Holy God. Lamb of God. Jesus. Thank you… Come, Lord Jesus, come.

Congregation Sings: all verses of  “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” followed by several repetitions of the chorus.

by Stacey Gleddiesmith

Happy Pentecost!

This Sunday is Pentecost Sunday. Andrew is preaching on “The Road to Emmaus” rather than on Pentecost this week (finishing up his series on “Eating With Jesus,” check it out at BACC). Since the road to Emmaus is all about the revelation of Christ in and through us, I thought it would be appropriate to use “Spirit of Faith, Come Down,” a hymn written by Charles Wesley, for our call to worship and our benediction. 
 
We’ll read the first two verses as our call to worship, while we light multiple candles on our table – to symbolize the tongues of flame that descended upon the disciples. The final two verses will be our benediction.
 

Spirit of Faith, Come Down

Text: Charles Wesley, 1707-1788
Music: Sacred Harp
Tune: BEALOTH, Meter: SMD

1.  Spirit of faith, come down,

reveal the things of God,

and make to us the Godhead known,

and witness with the blood.

‘Tis thine the blood to apply

and give us eyes to see,

who did for every sinner die

hath surely died for me.

2. No one can truly say

that Jesus is the Lord,

unless thou take the veil away

and breathe the living Word.

Then, only then, we feel

our interest in his blood,

and cry with joy unspeakable,

“Thou art my Lord, my God!”

3.  O that the world might know

the all atoning Lamb!

Spirit of faith, descend and show

the virtue of his name;

the grace which all may find,

the saving power, impart,

and testify to humankind,

and speak in every heart.

4. Inspire the living faith

(which whosoe’er receive,

the witness in themselves they have

and consciously believe),

the faith that conquers all,

and doth the mountain move,

and saves whoe’er on Jesus call,

and perfects them in love.

by Stacey Gleddiesmith

From Slavery to Deliverance: A Storytelling Service

Sometimes we think that music is absolutely necessary for a worship service. This Sunday, however, our musicians (all five of them) were going to be out of town. So I wrote a storytelling service. Because I ended up being here (after all), I did add some very simple a cappella singing – but otherwise this is primarily a spoken word service. Andrew is preaching on Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, and on our celebration of communion – as a part of his sermon series on Eating with Jesus. The service brackets his sermon with the telling of the story of Israel’s deliverance from Egypt. The style of writing is designed for an oral presentation – so keep that in mind as you read. The service is designed for two primary voices (one voice reading the italicised text), but a third could be added to lead the congregational responses.
 
If you wish to use this service in your own church, please contact me first.
 

Slavery

This story begins like countless other stories. A young mother. Frightened. Afraid for her child. Afraid for herself. What makes it different is not her circumstances. Countless mothers have given birth in slavery. Countless mothers have had the pains of childbirth amplified by the knowledge that their child was not their own. Was owned, even at birth. And that the child’s owner could do whatever he or she wanted with that baby – could have it dashed against the rocks. Could have it thrown into the Nile.

“A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.”

No, what makes this story different is not her circumstances. Too many, throughout history, and still, have been in the same position. What makes this story different is the promise of God. “I am” he says. “I will.”

“I am the Lord; I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians, I will deliver you from slavery, I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, I will take you as my people and be your God.”

I am.

I will.

Beginning with this child, hidden by his mother. Beginning with this child, picked up out of the reeds by Pharoah’s daughter, raised as Pharoah’s grandson. A slave, raised as the grandson of the King of Egypt.

His sister, thinking quickly, asks Pharoah’s daughter if she needs a Hebrew woman to nurse the child she has found. She runs to get her mother. And so the child is raised as the grandson of Pharoah, but also as the child of his own mother, as an Israelite—stories and traditions whispered to him, as he nuzzles at his mother’s breast.

Straddling two identities, Moses grows up and begins to notice the plight of his people. He begins to notice what God had already seen. He begins to feel the concern that God is already acting on.

But Moses’s concern turns to anger inside him, building to a crescendo. He turns that anger upon those who raised him. When he sees an Egyptian foreman beating an Israelite slave his anger bursts. And he kills a man.  Maybe he expected to be lauded as a hero by his own people. Instead, they responded with fear.

“Who made you ruler and judge over us? Are you thinking of killing me as you killed the Egyptian?”

News of the murder reaches the ears of Pharoah who, perhaps realizing that this act proclaimed Moses’s loyalty to the enslaved Israelites rather than the ruling house in which he was raised, tries to have Moses killed. Moses flees for his life—into the desert.

Congregational Response: Slavery

Leader: We are all enslaved, like the Israelites—although we may not know it.

People: Free us, Lord.

Leader: We are slaves to ourselves.

People: Free us, Lord.

Leader: We are slaves to sin.

People: Free us, Lord.

Leader: We are slaves to the desires of the world.

People: Free us, Lord.

Leader: We are slaves to our own selfish desires.

People: Free us, Lord.

Leader: We are slaves because we do not seek the freedom that is offered to us—but prefer to dwell in slavery, perceiving it as safety. Teach us to see our bondage and to cry out to you.

People: Free us, Lord! Lord, have mercy!

SING: Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy on us.

Calling

So Moses flees. But his mother must have taught him something. When he sees some shepherd girls being harassed as they try to water their sheep, he drives the thugs away, and helps the seven daughters of Midian to water their flock. Not only does this result in a safe haven for Moses in the desert—it results in a wife. Midian gives his oldest daughter, Ziporah, to Moses in marriage.

For a long time, Moses lives as a part of Midian’s family—taking to himself a third identity. A third nationality. Maybe, after a while, he begins to forget his people. He begins to forget their suffering. But God doesn’t forget. I am, he says. I will.

“I am the Lord; I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians, I will deliver you from slavery, I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, I will take you as my people and be your God.”

One day, while Moses tends his father-in-law’s flocks, he sees a wonder: a bush of fire. The flames shoot up from the ground, but do not consume the bush on which they feed. Moses draws closer. And God says:

Moses!

“I’m here.” Moses answers.

“Do not come any closer, Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground. I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.”

Moses hides his face in fear. He has forgotten his family. Lost his identity. But God knows. God knows who Moses is. God knows who he belongs to. And God begins to speak. He speaks of hearing the cries of his people—of his concern for them. Of his desire to bring them to a good, rich, productive land where they can dwell in peace and plenty. And then God says something else.

“So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt.”

Moses thinks to himself: “No way is that going to work out.” He bows his head and, in mock humility he begins to plead with God: “Who am I, God, that you would send me to the Pharoah? That you would ask me to bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”

“Who am I?” He thinks. “A murderer. A man without family. A man without strength or position. A man without words.”

I am, said God. I will.

“I will be with you. And this will be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you will worship God on this mountain.”

Moses thinks harder. “But what if I go to the Israelites and tell them that the God of their fathers – of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—spoke to me, and they ask me your name?”

“Are you my God,” he thinks?

I am, says God.

“Tell them,” says God, “that I have watched over Israel. I have seen what is done to them by Egypt, and I have promised to bring you up out of Egypt.”

Silence.

“The elders will listen to you, Moses… here is the plan.” And God tells Moses that he will strike Egypt with his hand. That after God’s display of might, the Pharaoh will beg the Israelites to leave. That the Egyptians will send them away with gifts so that God’s anger will not continue to rain down on them.

Silence.

“I see… but what if they don’t believe me?”

What if you are not I am. What if you will not. What if, what if, what if…

What is that in your hand?

My staff?

Throw it on the ground!

Moses shrugs and does as he is told—and then jumps back in fear as a snake suddenly writhes at his feet.

Pick it up by the tail.

“Really?”

Really.

Cautiously, pulling back his hand in alarm every time that serpentine head weaves closer to him, Moses reaches out and closes his hand around the snake’s tail. His staff is once more in his hand.

This is so that they will believe. Now. Put your hand into your cloak.

Moses hesitates. He doesn’t want a snake in his cloak. Slowly, he reaches his hand in and, when nothing happens, pulls it out again. He jumps and holds his hand away from himself. It’s white with leprosy. If he could run from himself he would.

Now put it back in your cloak.

Put his infected hand inside his cloak—next to his heart? Slowly, staring into the fire, Moses does as he is told. When he pulls his hand out again he sighs in relief. It’s clean.

If they don’t believe the first sign, they may believe the second. If they don’t believe the second, take some water from the Nile and pour it out in the dust. It will turn to blood on the ground.

Silence.

“Sorry. Sorry, Lord… but I’ve never really talked much in front of people. No one has ever called me a leader. I… I’ve already made a lot of mistakes. I’ve always been slow of speech—and you haven’t changed that.”

Moses. Looking for a miracle for himself. If he was to be called by God, then surely God would make him fit for the task by changing him into the very image of eloquence so that he could talk the Israelites and the Egyptians around his little finger.

“Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”

I am. I will. But through you. I will help you. I will teach you—but I will not change you.

Silence.

“Sorry. Sorry, Lord… but couldn’t you send someone else?”

Congregational Response: Calling

Leader: Like Moses, we are called. Like Moses, we are hesitant.

People: Help us, Lord.

Leader: We are frozen by fear.

People: Help us, Lord.

Leader: We see only the difficulties ahead of us.

People: Help us, Lord.

Leader: We see only our faults.

People: Help us, Lord.

Leader: We do not want to go where you send us.

People: Help us, Lord.

Leader: We do not want to speak to those you wish us to speak to.

People: Help us, Lord.

Leader: We are called by you, but we feel unfit, unprepared, and unable to complete the tasks you have set before us. We forget that it is your strength by which we go. That you have promised to be with us. That you have created us. That you knew everything about us before you called.

People: Help us, Lord. Lord, have mercy on us.

SING: Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy on us.

A Hurried Meal

Moses goes. All his protests cannot dampen God’s call. He goes. But his brother Aaron performs the signs before the elders of Israel. And the elders fall on their faces and worship God when they hear that he is concerned about them and has heard their cries.

But when Aaron and Moses go to Pharaoh, Pharaoh gets angry. He makes the work of the Israelites harder. The Israelite overseers come to Moses and Aaron in anger, and Moses cries out to God: “Why, Lord, why have you brought trouble on this people? Is this why you sent me? Ever since I went to Pharaoh to speak in your name, he has brought trouble on this people, and you have not rescued your people at all.”

“Now you will see what I will do to Pharaoh: Because of my mighty hand he will let them go; because of my mighty hand he will drive them out of his country.”

I am, God says. I will.

“I am the Lord; I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians, I will deliver you from slavery, I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, I will take you as my people and be your God.” – Exodus 6:6-7

Moses reports this to the Israelites, but they turn away from him in discouragement. God tells Moses and Aaron to repeat his message to Pharaoh. And they go. And Aaron performs the signs. Pharaoh’s heart, however, is hard. He cannot humble himself. He cannot admit that anyone could have more power than himself. And so, the plagues begin. The river turns to blood, and the people have to dig drinking water out of the river bank. Frogs pour across the land: in kitchens, in beds, in ovens. They die in courtyards and houses and fields—but Pharaoh will not let the Israelites go.

“Tell Aaron, ‘Stretch out your staff and strike the dust of the ground,’

And a great swarm of gnats flies up. But Pharaoh won’t listen. So instead of gnats there are flies. On everything. In the eyes of the animals, underfoot. In every house, including the palace. Every place in Egypt was covered, except where the Israelites lived—but still Pharaoh does not yield. And so, Egyptian livestock sicken, while those of the Israelites remain well. And every single Egyptian horse, donkey, camel, cow, sheep, and goat dies—but still Pharaoh resists.

“Take handfuls of soot from a furnace and have Moses toss it into the air in the presence of Pharaoh. It will become fine dust over the whole land of Egypt, and festering boils will break out on people and animals throughout the land.”

And then there is hail, so not only the livestock, but the crops are decimated. And there are locusts that eat every bit of green that remained standing. And Pharaoh’s officials plead with him to let the Israelites go. “Egypt is ruined!” They say. But still Pharaoh’s heart was hard. So God blocks out the sun. But it still isn’t enough.

And so the worst happened. Moses told Pharaoh:

“This is what the Lord says: ‘About midnight I will go throughout Egypt. Every firstborn son in Egypt will die, from the firstborn son of Pharaoh, who sits on the throne, to the firstborn son of the female slave, who is at her hand mill, and all the firstborn of the cattle as well. There will be loud wailing throughout Egypt—worse than there has ever been or ever will be again. But among the Israelites not a dog will bark at any person or animal.’ Then you will know that the Lord makes a distinction between Egypt and Israel. All these officials of yours will come to me, bowing down before me and saying, ‘Go, you and all the people who follow you!’ After that I will leave.”

Then Moses, hot with anger, leaves Pharaoh.

Surely this warning would be enough.

But no.

And so God begins to prepare a meal for his people. They are to take a lamb, one for each household, and roast it over a fire. Smaller households are to share with each other. After each lamb is slaughtered, some of the blood is used to mark the top and the sides of each doorframe in which a lamb is eaten. They are not to leave their houses during the night. They are to eat the roasted meat with bitter herbs and bread made without yeast. None of it is to be left till the morning.

This is how you are to eat it: with your cloak tucked into your belt, your sandals on your feet and your staff in your hand. Eat it in haste; it is the Lord’s Passover.

So they huddle in their houses. Sandals on. Staff in hand. Cramming food into their mouths. Children do not need to be hushed. Adults try to stop themselves from peering around at the doorway in fear. They eat as much as they can fit in their bellies—preparing for a long hungry journey. And they wait.

The blood, God said, was a sign. And the Spirit of God passes by the houses of the Israelites and leaves them unharmed. And they are ready to go when the wailing begins.

It was a day, God said, that Israel would remember forever. It was a meal, God said, that was to be forever repeated. A lasting ordinance. A celebration of God’s great work of deliverance. And blood was the sign.

During the night Pharaoh summoned Moses.

“Up! Leave my people, you and the Israelites! Go, worship the Lord as you have requested. Take your flocks and herds, as you have said, and go.”

So the meal did not last until morning after all. And the haste was warranted. The Israelites pack up their bread dough—there is no time to add yeast and let it rise—and they leave Egypt.

Congregational Response: A Hurried Meal

Leader: Like the Israelites, God has prepared a meal for us. Like the Israelites, we learn the meaning of the meal only as we eat it.

People: Feed us, Lord.

Leader: We know now that you have heard our cries.

People: Feed us, Lord.

Leader: We know now that you have been concerned for us.

People: Feed us, Lord.

Leader: We know now that your deliverance is at hand.

People: Feed us, Lord.

Leader: We know now that, although you have delivered us, our journey has just begun. Feed us, that we might have strength to complete our journey. Teach us to understand the meal that you have prepared.

People: Feed us, Lord. Lord, have mercy on us.

SING: Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy on us.

*****SERMON*****

Luke 22:7­-20

*****COMMUNION*****

Freedom

And so the Israelites leave. Along with their livestock, their goods, and a considerable amount of gold and silver thrust on them by Egyptians eager to see them go. But even then, Pharaoh pursues them. Realizing they had lost their primary source of free labour, Pharaoh and his army set out after the Israelites. Trapping them against the Red Sea.

The Israelites are terrified. They cry out to Moses: “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!”

How many more times would they say this? God’s deliverance does not always work the way we think it should.

Then Moses gave perhaps his greatest and most eloquent speech—he had learned something at last:

“Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

Silence.

They had been delivered out of Pharaoh’s hand, but had very recently come to view God’s deliverance as a fragile thing. Slaves for generations, they are still learning to trust that God is with them. I am, God says. I will.

“I am the Lord; I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians, I will deliver you from slavery, I will redeem you with an outstretched arm, I will take you as my people and be your God.”

The angel of God and the pillar of fire and cloud, which had been guiding the Israelites into the desert, move between Israel and Pharaoh’s army—giving light to one, and only darkness to the other. And so they spend the night. And as the Israelites try to quiet restless animals, and lull their children to sleep, Moses stretches his hand out over the water, and all night long, God drives back the waters of the sea. And, in the morning, the Israelites coax their animals through the sea on dry ground: a wall of water on their left and on their right.

“The Lord is my strength and my defense; he has become my salvation. He is my God, and I will praise him, my father’s God, and I will exalt him.”

Pharaoh’s army is defeated in the sea, and Israel continues on her journey through the desert—toward the promised land. They do not go quietly. They complain the whole way. They do not live happily ever after.

But their story of deliverance echoes through time until, one Passover, a lamb is prepared. A lamb that will bring God’s final deliverance—to all his people. A lamb that is slain, to bring us life. To bring us freedom. Freedom from ourselves, freedom from sin, freedom from the desires of the world. True freedom to grow into people who are eager to answer his calling, and who will obey his voice, strengthened by the meal that God has prepared.

Congregational Benediction

People: Lord, you have freed us from our captivity. You have called us to follow you and to do your work. You have strengthened us with this meal. Teach us to live in the joy of your freedom. Amen.

by Stacey Gleddiesmith

Good Friday: From Light to Darkness – a Liturgy

Call to Worship: Today we walk with Jesus to Golgotha. We remember the pain that he suffered. We remember the triumph of his death – that didn’t look much like triumph to anyone. And today we remember what it really means to say we are “taking up our cross” and “following Jesus.”

We are going to move together, as we did during Lent, through the words Jesus spoke as he hung on the cross – and we are going to move together through the last hours of Jesus, and with him into the tomb. As we move through each phrase that Jesus spoke from the cross, we will blow out one of our Lenten candles – and we will have a short time of silence. After the seventh word, I will ask you all to blow out your candles, and we will share a longer moment of silence in relative darkness.

Come, let us worship together.

*Opening Song: O The Deep, Deep Love of Jesus – vs 1, 2, 3

Reader 1: Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

Reader 2: John 18:28-19:18

 

Reader 3: Luke 23:32-34

Reader 1: You forgave even those who took your hands and feet and drove nails into solid wood. Who, straining, lifted up the cross that held you and dropped it into place. You have forgiven them. When we ask for mercy, we are amazed to find that it has already been extended. You have forgiven us.

1st Candle blown out – short Silence

*Congregational Response: What Wondrous Love Is This – vs1, vs2

 

Reader 3: Luke 23:35-43

Reader 1: In your darkest hour, you turned to reassure the man beside you – a stranger. You extended eternity to him, even as you died. When we suffer, we find your hand extended to us – we find strength in the life you give us.

2nd Candle blown out – short Silence

*Congregational Response: O Sacred Head Now Wounded – vs. 1, 2

 

Reader 2: John 19:19-24

Reader 3: John 19:25-27

Reader 1: You turned, in your suffering, to care for those who cared for you. You turned those you loved toward each other, and asked them to give each other the status of family. You have called us your sisters, your brothers.

3rd Candle blown out – short Silence

*Congregational Response: O Sacred Head Now Wounded – vs. 3

 

Reader 3: John 19:28-29

Reader 1: You were fully human – thirsty as you hung there, in the hot sun. You felt the urgent need of a parched throat and a dry tongue. You have quenched our thirst with your living water.

4th Candle blown out – short Silence

*Congregational Response: You Are My King – vs, ch, vs

 

Reader 3: Mark 15:33-34

Reader 1: You were abandoned by God, alone in your suffering. You withstood what we could not, and promised to never leave or forsake us.

5th Candle blown out – short Silence

*Congregational Response: How Deep the Father’s Love For Us – vs1

 

Reader 3: John 19:30

Reader 1: You finished the work you came into the world to complete, at great cost to yourself. At great cost to yourself, you completed, and will complete, the world in which you came to work. At great cost you have completed and will complete your work in us.

6th Candle blown out – short Silence

*Congregational Response: How Deep the Father’s Love For Us – vs2, 3

 

Reader 3: Luke 23: 44-46

Reader 1: After all. After everything. After the pain, the rejection, the sorrow – you entrusted your spirit to your heavenly father. Although you felt the forsakenness of sin in its fullest, you trusted your father. Now you entrust us to your heavenly Father – sitting at his right hand, and interceding for us. The curtain was torn, our separation from God is ended – in this moment. May we trust. May we learn, in the darkness, the extent of your faithfulness. May we entrust ourselves to you.

In a moment, as I blow out the seventh candle, I will ask you, also, to extinguish the light on your table. We will take a moment together to grieve, and to feel the weight of Christ’s sacrifice, of the Father’s sacrifice. As we sit in silence, and as we sit in the dark, we will also fill our hearts with stillness, as we seek to understand the cross – and as we seek to take up our own cross.

Lord Jesus, we ask that you would teach us to understand this great and terrible mystery. Please accept now our silent worship.

7th Candle blown out – Long Silence

*Congregational Response: Beneath the Cross of Jesus – vs1, 2, 1

Reader 2: John 19:31-42

Benediction: And so we wait. Through the night, through the long, silent Saturday in the tomb. The battle is already won. Jesus has already declared his work finished – but we wait. We wait for the glimmer of dawn in the darkness. For the sliver of hope that lightens despair. We wait for the empty tomb. We wait for Christ to return.

In a moment, we are going to share a meal together. Communion, as it was first celebrated, was the sharing of a meal. Jesus did not sit with his disciples the night of his betrayal and offer them only a bite of bread and a sip of wine – he sat with them around a table that contained a feast. Take a moment before you eat, to bow your head and remember. As you eat this food that many hands have prepared, hold in the back of your mind the words of Christ: “Take and eat. This is my body.” And as you drink, hold in the back of your mind the words of Christ: “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

And as you wait, as you eat and drink, may the darkness of waiting make the light shine brighter. May the pain you experience intensify your joy. And may your night, gradually, gloriously, give way to morning.

Amen.

by Stacey Gleddiesmith

The Seven Last Words of Christ: Readings for Lent

First Sunday of Lent

“Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.”(Luke 23:34)

Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

You forgave even those who took your hands and feet and drove nails into solid wood. Who, straining, lifted up the cross that held you and dropped it into place. You have forgiven them. When we ask for mercy, we are amazed to find that it has already been extended. You have forgiven us.

May we, in turn, forgive. Even before it is asked of us.

Second Sunday of Lent

“I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise.”(Luke 23:43)

Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

In your darkest hour, you turned to reassure the man beside you – a stranger. You extended eternity to him, even as you died. When we suffer, we find your hand extended to us – we find strength in the life you give us.

May we, in turn, have the strength, even in our darkest hour, to turn to the stranger suffering beside us and extend your life to them.

Third Sunday of Lent

“Dear woman, here is your son.”(John 19:26)

Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

You turned, in your suffering, to care for those who cared for you. You turned those you loved toward each other, and asked them to give each other the status of family. You have called us your sisters, your brothers.

May we, in turn, turn to those you love, to your church, and give them the status of family.

Fourth Sunday of Lent

“I am thirsty.”(John 19:28)

Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

You were fully human – thirsty as you hung there, in the hot sun. You felt the urgent need of a parched throat and a dry tongue. You have quenched our thirst with your living water.

May we, in turn, choose to quench the physical thirst of others. May we, in turn, choose to quench the spiritual thirst of others.

Fifth Sunday of Lent

“My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”(Mark 15:34)

Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

You were abandoned by God, alone in your suffering. You withstood what we could not, and promised to never leave or forsake us.

May we, in turn, be faithful to those around us, walking with friends and strangers through their suffering.

Palm Sunday

“It is finished!”(John 19:30)

Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

You finished the work you came into the world to complete. You completed, and will complete, the world in which you came to work. You have completed and will complete your work in us.

May we, in turn, have the opportunity to join you in this completion. To take up your work, and to pull the yoke with you as our partner.

Good Friday

“Father, I entrust my spirit into your hands!”(Luke 23:46)

Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

After all. After everything. After the pain, the rejection, the sorrow – you entrusted your spirit to your heavenly father. Although you felt the forsakenness of sin in its fullest, you trusted your father. Now you entrust us to your heavenly Father – sitting at his right hand, and interceding for us.

May we, in turn, trust. May we learn the extent of your faithfulness. May we trust ourselves to you.

Easter Sunday

Jesus we come – to walk the road with you – to follow you to the cross. We prepare ourselves now to follow your footprints in the dust. To understand how you died. To understand how we die. To understand how you lived. To understand how we should live.

You consented to take on human weakness, being born as a baby. You healed the sick, gave hope to the poor, and freed the captives. You suffered sickness, and pain, and oppression. You were arrested. You were beaten. You were nailed to a cross. And you died. But then.

Oh but then.

After a long, dark wait – light conquered darkness.

by Stacey Gleddiesmith

Advent Liturgies, 2011

Most of the scripture passages are taken from the lectionary. The other words I wrote in the hope that they will help our community to be honest about the darkness in which we wait – but also will encourage anticipation for Christ’s coming. So often we seem to think he could hold off a bit (until we reach a certain goal, or achieve a certain experience), but the reality is that we need him now – our world needs him now.

If you wish, you could repeat these readings and prayers each day, as a personal means of experiencing Advent. Light a candle. Create some space. And add to these words your own prayers for our world, for your community, and for yourself.

Week 1, Sunday, November 27: HOPE

Reading 1: Psalm 80:1-7; 17-19

Reading 2: 1 Corinthians 1:3-9

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of Israel’s hope for a Saviour, fulfilled in Christ. We light this candle as a symbol of our hope that Christ might enter each of our lives and transform us. We light this candle as a symbol of our hope that Christ will return and make all things new. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

Prayer: Dear Lord, we are surrounded by darkness. When we look at our world we see famine, injustice, and war. When we look at our community we see loneliness, sorrow, and pain. When we look at our own lives we see sin, fear, and shame. We are surrounded by darkness. But you, Jesus, are the morning star. The star that appears when night is at its darkest—and heralds the morning. Come, Lord Jesus, and awaken our hope. Come, Lord Jesus, and light our darkness. Come, Lord Jesus, and restore us, restore our community, restore our world. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Congregation Sings: verse one only of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” (no chorus).

Week 2, Sunday, December 4: LOVE

Reading 1: 2 Peter 3:8-15

Reading 2: Isaiah 40:1-11

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of God’s love for us, for our community, and for our world. We light this candle in the understanding that we continue to live in darkness, because God desires to bring light more abundantly. We light this candle as a symbol of our love, which provides light to the world through the Spirit of Christ, as we wait for him to return and make all things new. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

Prayer: Dear Lord, we are surrounded by darkness. We don’t understand why you allow famine and sickness. We don’t understand why you allow injustice and war. We don’t understand why you allow loneliness and pain. We are surrounded by darkness. But we understand that you love us. We see evidence of that love in the air we breathe, in the beauty we see, in the community you have given us, and especially in the gift of your son, Jesus Christ. Even as we long for your coming, we are thankful that your love holds it at bay—that more may come to you. As we wait, help us to extend your love to others. Come, Lord Jesus, and love beyond our understanding. Come, Lord Jesus, and let your tenacious love transform us, transform our community, transform our world. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Congregation Sings: verse one and two only of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” (no chorus).

Week 3, Sunday, December 11: JOY

1 Thessalonians 5:16-24

Isaiah 61:1-4, 10-11

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of the joy we have in Christ. We light this candle in celebration of the good news we have received, and the good news that is surely coming. We light this candle in anticipation of the joy we will experience when Christ returns to make all things new. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

Prayer:  Dear Lord, we are surrounded by darkness. Our joy is tempered by tears of sorrow. Our joy is tempered by pain and confusion. Our joy is tempered by news of the world’s despair. We are surrounded by darkness. But even in the midst of darkness, our joy cannot be repressed. For you have come to free the captive. You have come to make the blind see, and the deaf hear. You have come to bring peace to the nations. You have come to give sustenance to the poor, and to provide justice for the oppressed. Come, Lord Jesus, and teach us joy beyond circumstance. Come, Lord Jesus, and give us reason to rejoice. Come, Lord Jesus, so that our joy may be abundant, spilling from our mouths to light our community, and even our world. Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Congregation Sings: verse one, two, and three only of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” (no chorus).

Week 4, Sunday, December 18: PEACE

Reading 1: Isaiah 9: 2-7

Reading 2: Colossians 1:15-20

Lighting of the Candle:  We light this candle as a symbol of the peace given to us by Jesus Christ, our Lord. We light this candle as a symbol of our unity as the body of Christ, and in the hope of greater unity yet to come. We light this candle, in a world tainted by war, as a proclamation that the God of peace will bring justice and peace to every shore. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

Prayer: Dear Lord, we are surrounded by darkness. When we look at our world we see hatred and war. When we look at our community we see anger and broken families. When we look at ourselves we see selfishness and discontentment. We are surrounded by darkness. But you, the light of life, have come to bring us peace—a peace that passes understanding, as we wait in our war-torn world for the light of your righteousness. Come, Lord Jesus, and heal our broken nations. Come, Lord Jesus, and heal our broken families. Come, Lord Jesus, and heal our broken hearts. Fill us with your peace. Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Congregation Sings: verse one, two, three, and four only of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” (no chorus).

Christmas: Sunday December 25 (or Saturday December 24); repeat on Sunday, January 1

Reading 1: Psalm 98

Reading 2: John 1:1-14

Reading 3: Titus 2:11-14

Lighting of the Candle: We light this candle as a symbol of our hope in Christ (light first candle). We light this candle as a symbol of Christ’s love for us (light second candle). We light this candle as a symbol of the joy we find in Christ (light third candle). We light this candle as a symbol of the peace of Christ (light fourth candle). And we light this candle in thankfulness for a creator who consented to become part of creation, so that we might know him better. We light this candle, rejoicing in the light of life that has broken into the darkness of the world. We light this candle, proclaiming that Christ has come, and that Christ is coming. Blessed be the name of the Lord!

Prayer: Dear Lord, we are surrounded by light. We do not deny the darkness that still lays hold of our world, of our community, of our lives—but we recognize that your light is greater. Your hope is stronger. Your love is wider. Your joy is deeper. Your peace is more substantial. We welcome you here. We rejoice over the unimaginable mystery of your incarnation with Simeon and Anna. We sing for joy over field and city with the angels. We kneel by your humble cradle with the shepherds. You have come. And everything is different. May we draw nearer to you this Christmas. May we share your hope. May we extend your love. May we be filled with your joy. May we experience your peace. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

Congregation Sings: All of “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” including the choruses!