Prayer 2610: Fourth Sunday in Lent

Most Merciful God,
we gather in your Name, and sing your praises,
grateful for your steadfast lovingkindness,
for your blessings without number.

O Creating God,
whose Spirit moves over the waters of of our souls,
stirring up new creation and hope,
create in us new hearts,
filled with insight and generosity,
bravely embodying the Beloved Community
of compassion, justice, and unity
You call us to be.

Heal us of our hardness of heart, Lord,
that we may comfort and care for each other
May our eyes be opened
to perceive the light of Christ everywhere.
May the flame of your love, O God,
shine out from us,
that we may see face to face
and put aside the blinders we wear from fear.

Grant us strength, by the power of your Spirit,
that we may persevere in love and faithfulness,
and pour out your blessing upon those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Scripture reference: John 9:1-41

Prayer 2609: Turning toward the light of wisdom

As wildflowers in the fields
turn their faces to the warming sun, Lord,
we lift our hearts to You,
praising your steadfast love and faithfulness,
O God and Creator of All.

Fill us with wisdom, integrity, and compassion,
O Spirit of the Living God,
that we may hold each other in prayer
and encourage each other in steadfastness.

Strengthen those who are responsible
for the health and safety of others, Lord Christ,
and guide us into caring for each other
with wise and generous hearts.

Bless those who labor for the common good,
and strengthen them as they persevere, O God.
Bless nurses, caregivers, doctors, and researchers;
bless farmers, grocery store workers, and pharmacists;
bless first responders and EMTs and peace-keepers;
all who selflessly give of themselves
for the most vulnerable and anxious among us.

Pour out your mercy upon us, O Beloved Savior,
and grant your blessing upon those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 2608: Like clay on the wheel

O God, we lift our hearts to You,
remembering your grace and encouragement,
and praising You from the depths of our being.

You know our joys and our pains, God our Savior:
may we hear your repeated comfort,
your daily reminder to not be afraid,
as we navigate the changing landscape of our lives.

Reshape our hearts
like clay upon your wheel,
O Lover of Our Souls,
that we learn patience and kindness.

May we pull up the rancor and greed
that seeks to sprout up in our hearts
in response to uncertainty and fear,
and instead turn to You and each other
in gratitude and generosity of spirit.

Eternal God,
enlighten us by your Spirit
to be a blessing this day,
and grant your comfort
to those whose cares we lay before You.

Amen.

Prayer of the Blessed Sheep: Speaking to the Soul, March 19, 2020

Psalm 23

We all know this Sunday’s psalm. We’ve heard it in movies and on TV shows and at funerals. We’ve prayed it in times of stress, or maybe, as I often do, to go to sleep at night. Although most of us go automatically to the KJV of it, with its magisterial language, translators are continually rewording it, trying to get the nuances of the psalm right.

For instance, listen to these different interpretations of the first verse alone:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. (NKJV)
Yahweh is my shepherd; I lack nothing, (New Jerusalem)
O God, You are my shepherd; I shall not be in want. (St. Helena Psalter)
O my Beloved, You are my shepherd, I shall not want; (Nan C. Merrill, Psalms for Praying)
The Lord takes care of me as his sheep; I will not be without any good thing. (Bible in Basic English)
God is my Shepherd! I don’t need a thing! (The Message)

The image of the shepherd who is devoted to his or her flock is an image for leadership and governance throughout scriptures. When it is applied to God, it becomes yet another startling metaphor for its listeners, who knew that shepherds were humble folk, and most of the time when we think of God, “humble” doesn’t immediately come to mind. But maybe it should.

Too often, we think of God and emphasize might, power, vengeance. Smiting. I love that scene in Bruce Almighty when an infuriated Bruce yells up at heaven, “Smite me, O mighty SMITERRR!” Of course, he then gets smacked by a semi, but only so that he and God can have a talk—so he will stop bleating long enough to listen TO the Shepherd’s voice.

God’s insistence on being associated with the concerned, caring shepherd who knows us intimately and loves us deeply is one that we need to hear and treasure no matter how many times we have heard those words in the 23rd Psalm or every year during the Great 50 Days of Easter. Notice, though, that God goes from being talked about in the third person to be addressed personally in the second parson a third of the way in. This is a personal relationship. But you’ll notice that the relationship isn’t just one way—it’s up to the sheep to follow the shepherd, not wander too far off, listen when he or she calls.

For us right now, who face a time of unprecedented anxiety and uncertainty in this time of global pandemic, being asked to shelter in place and remain out of gatherings of more than ten people, it is nonetheless vital for us to remember that we are all part of one large, beloved flock, under the loving gaze of the Lord Our Shepherd (Adonai Ro’i in Hebrew).  And so, today, and in the days to come, this is my prayer.

Prayer of the Blessed Sheep

God is our shepherd and provider,
You claim us as your own, and we are yours.

God leads us into pastures that supply all our needs;
You give us rest and security,

And call us to share your peace with each other

And embody your light in the darkness.

God refreshes and revives our souls anew;
leading us into truth,
trusting us to follow and glorify God's Name

for the sake of each other.

You shield us by your strength and vigilance;
when trials approach us,
we have no fear,
for You hold us in your hand
even when the darkness of death looms--

your love, O God, never sleeps.

You provide a rich banquet for us even as enemies look on;
You have consecrated us and blessed us abundantly.
Your steadfast promise of love enfolds us,
and goodness and mercy are our sure companions
as You lead us through our lives.

We rest securely in your arms,
and our home is with You forever

and right now.

Amen.

This was originally published at Episcopal Cafe's Speaking to the Soul on March 19, 2020.

ImAge: Sheep grazing in a field near Iona Abbey, Scotland.

Prayer 2607: The Path of Faith

O God Our Rock and Our Redeemer,
with one accord we lift our hearts
and commit ourselves to your path today.

Strengthen us in devotion and compassion
 O God Most Merciful,
as we care for each other
in this time of anxiety.

Turn our gazes outward
that we may look with the eyes of Christ
on all we meet today, Blessed Savior,
seeing the divine imprint in each face.

Holy One, even in the midst
of the changes and chances of this life,
may we ever give thanks
for the blessing of your love,
and reflect that love into the world unceasingly.

Kindle anew the flame of our faith,
O Spirit of Wisdom,
and pour out your blessings on those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 2606: On Caring for Each Other

Sheltering God,
whose embrace encompasses all,
your loving gaze rests upon us
and gives us comfort:
accept our prayers and praises
as we lift our hearts to you.

Lord Jesus,
you gather us to you
as a mother hen gathers her young:
extend your healing hand over us
as we seek to care for each other,
and stand alongside those in anxiety.

You are our Rock and our Redeemer,
O Blessed Savior,
and we offer you our all this day.

Spirit of the Living God,
kindle a fire of wisdom and compassion within us,
that we may do all we can
to stand with the vulnerable
May all we do testify to the power of Love,
and bear witness in our words and deeds
to the activity of God over all the earth.

Rofeh Cholem,
Healer of the Sick,
the All-Merciful and Compassionate,
extend your hand of blessing over us,
we ask in humble entreaty,
and all for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer, day 2605: In Times of Trial

Most Merciful God,
Creator, Redeemer, and Comforter,
may your name be blessed among all peoples,
and your tenderness be praised from the heavens
unto all the reaches of creation.

God of Compassion,
be with all who watch and wait,
and strengthen those who have a race to run,
that they may press on under the wings of your love.

Gather the suffering under the lea of your mercy, Lord Christ,
and let them turn to You in sureness and trust,
knowing that you are their Companion in all things.

Bend near, O Spirit of Hope,
and let the light of God shine upon us,
and warm our hearts with the promise of your peace,
surpassing any that we can grasp.

Bless the hearts of the sorrowing,
that they may raise up thanks
for the love that surrounds them.

Holy One, anoint us with your lovingkindness
and give us hearts to serve and praise You always.
Lord, press the kiss of your benediction and healing
upon those for whom we pray,
precious in your sight,
as they turn to you in faith and trust.

Amen.

Prayer 2604: For the COVID-19 pandemic

O God, Our Stronghold,
we center our hearts within your embrace, 
and rejoice at your manifest blessings:
may we abide with You
and walk in your ways this day.

Bring us to a more perfect unity, O Lord,
as we shed our petty divisions,
and come to a fuller understanding of our common good.

May we emerge from the trials that beset us
with a unshakable resolve
to worship you in all our works,
to give thanks for our neighbors,
and to care for each other always.

Blessed Jesus,
we are your healing hands and heart in the world:
let us be a comfort to the anxious,
and a blessing to all we meet.

Merciful Savior,
shine the light of your countenance upon us,
and grant your blessing upon those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Fearless Witness: Sermon for the Third Sunday in Lent A

This has been a challenging last few weeks for many of us, and this week has brought changes and challenges seemingly each and every hour. I don’t know about you all, but my head is spinning. While we had hoped to be able to bring you more information and formally launch our capital campaign, to strengthen the ability of this parish in its witness to the world. Instead, the changing situation regarding best practices in attempting to prevent the spread of COVID-19 have led us to curtail our gathering in person together. But we are blessed to be able to have this worship time together this week, regardless, whether in person or online.

And the readings we have today speak forcefully to the concerns of our time, and our sermon series on “Fearlessness” during our shared Lenten journey takes on new urgency.

Today, we start with hearing two stories about thirst. 

In our first reading from Exodus 17:1-7, the Israelites are stricken with thirst in the wilderness and complain violently to Moses, blaming God (and Moses, as God’s spokesman) for their plight. God responds by providing water from a rock that Moses strikes with his staff. 

In the gospel, from John 4:5-42, we hear a story that starts with Jesus admitting his thirst, and asking for a drink from a Samaritan woman he encounters at Jacob’s Well. This request initiates a conversation that leads to a multitude from an entire Samaritan town to believe in Jesus as Messiah. In doing so, these Samaritans thereby have their thirst quenched with living water, even as Jesus’s own people have trouble recognizing him as the fulfillment of prophecy.

The reading from Exodus this week is one of an Old Testament genre called “murmuring stories.” These are stories in which the people “murmur”—in our text, it is rendered as “quarreled,” but it seems that misses the flavor. “Murmuring against” someone is so much more suggestive of that tendency we all have to mutter just audibly enough to be heard, that passive-aggressive tactic that allows one to later deny that one has said anything at all. 

Murmuring of this type is filled with negativity, ingratitude, a simmering resentment and discontent, and is deadly as any plague. Here are the Israelites, freed from slavery in Egypt, moaning about how their every need isn’t being taken care of while they are traveling back to their homeland. And rather than take steps to care for each other, the people dare to blame God for their predicament, rather than remember that God is alongside them and all of us in our own trials in the wilderness. Their murmuring was a product of their fear, their feeling of being abandoned, their very real fear that they we vulnerable to suffering and possibly even death as they could not find any water to slake their thirst.

This story is a providential reminder of the power, the negative power, that fear and hopelessness can play in our lives, not just as individuals, but as a community. As we face a rapidly changing situation in light of the COVID-19 pandemic, we are called to remember that fear physiologically turns our attention inward, and narrows our field of vision in ways that are often harmful to us. Fear paralyzes us, making us feel adrift and alone in the wilderness, even when we are in the midst of a community who, if energized, can share the burdens and care for each other. The people’s reaction toward fear and anxiety is one way a people can respond to a crisis—but it’s not a very productive one. Let all with ears to hear, listen.

Our gospel tells a completely different story, however. We start off with a story about thirst that ends up being a pretext for Jesus’s life-changing encounter with the Samaritan woman. This story starts with reminding us of how human Jesus is: we hear that he is tired, and that he is thirsty. Jesus is tired from a long journey because he had decided to go back to Galilee, uninterested at furthering an alleged rivalry the Pharisees are dreaming up between Jesus and John for who is performing the most baptisms in a blatant attempt to sow division between their perceived rivals. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Divide and conquer. But Jesus refuses to play, so he decides to return home.

And along the way, he enters what was then considered enemy territory. The Samaritans and the Jews were themselves in opposition to each other. Although both descendants of Abraham, the Samaritans had intermarried with foreigners and developed a different system of worship—and Jews never let Samaritans forget that they considered the Samaritans as impure and less-than. So once again, just as our reading from Exodus appears in an “in-between place,” a place of vulnerability, so too does our gospel. Given our current situation right now, that reminder about vulnerability is a comfort to hold in our hearts as we consider this gospel message.

What a contrast with last week’s story about Nicodemus, though. Nicodemus was the ultimate insider, while this woman is the antithesis of him in almost every way. In a way, she is even bolder than Nicodemus, because she gives as good as she gets, and is as bold as he is hesitant. 

Jesus issues no condemnation for the narrative of her life that he has provided—which is a sign that there was nothing there to condemn. Contrary to what two thousand years of commentators have held, she is NOT a fallen woman. Women in that time and place—and indeed up until very recently—did not have the right to initiate divorce. That power belonged solely to men. An unmarried woman was in a vulnerable, life-or-death situation without male protection. So if she has had five husbands, it is because those five husbands either died, or more likely have used her and abandoned her. 

Indeed, even though she is a woman and a Samaritan, Jesus accepts her as an equal, as worthy of his time and attention as Nicodemus was. Once again we are reminded that the gospel of Christ is embedded with true equality and dignity for all people, no matter how much society may categorize and denigrate them. We are reminded that, in fact, this gospel is a gospel of liberation from all kinds of oppression—and the worst kind of oppression in anyone’s life is often the internal oppression of hopelessness, cynicism, and despair.

In her conversation with Jesus, we can specifically trace the arc the Samaritan woman’s understanding follows: from wariness (v. 9) to skepticism (v. 12) to acknowledgment (v. 19) to conversion and testimony (v. 29). She then becomes the model disciple and witness of John’s gospel thus far, and many in her town come to believe in Jesus due to her testimony—and later join the community for which John’s gospel is written. The fact that she is so readily accepted and believed provides further proof that she was not seen as a “fallen woman” by her acquaintances, contrary to what commentators throughout the ages have implied about her. Her quick jump from suspicion to disbelief and evangelism is also in stark contrast to the caution Nicodemus displayed last week.

Last week we heard the magnificent, sweeping promise of John 3:16-17— 
“For God so loved the world 
that God gave God’s only Son, 
so that everyone who believes in him
may not perish but may have eternal life. 
Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world 
 to condemn the world, 
 but in order that the world
might be saved through him.”

This woman represents that universal promise and imperative of the gospel of Christ, and of our own role in spreading that gospel to the ends of the earth regardless of any barriers that we might manufacture in our minds. In going from talking to the powerful and respected Nicodemus in the dead of the night to talking to an outcast, unnamed woman, cast aside by at least five husbands, Jesus proves that he is sent to bring his good news to the entire world, indeed, without respect to barriers of race, ethnicity, privilege, gender, or status.

Jesus sees this woman as she is—and in return, she sees him as he really is, and is the first person in this gospel to proclaim the possibility that Jesus is the Messiah. All Nicodemus, with all his learning and righteousness could manage was that Jesus was from God. The recognition of Jesus as the Messiah comes from the limits and margins of society, and from a woman who has demonstrated great ability in holding her own in debate with Jesus even while she has been discounted in the eyes and assumptions of the disciples.

The disciples are still judging by rigid social categories and appearances—and Jesus is demonstrating to them by example that social barriers and expectations mean nothing before the power of the gospel to transform lives. It is only those who have need of Jesus—and in her case, are probably reminded of this constantly—that are willing to suspend disbelief and hope instead that there can be salvation and reception into a new society—the kingdom of heaven.

And as fears of the COVID-19 pandemic spread in our own time, we hear stories right now of people hoarding supplies and in some infamous cases, refusing to self-quarantine. We see churches determined to remain beacons of faith while taking pro-active steps to keep parishioners safe. Should we cancel worship services? Should we discontinue the use of the common cup at the Eucharist?

The conversation Jesus has with this woman at the well leads her to a true epiphany—and in her excitement to share the news with her townspeople so that they, too, can experience an encounter with Jesus, she runs off, leaving her water jar behind in her haste. Her everyday chores—even the necessary chore of fetching water—is forgotten in her zeal to make sure that everyone else she knows has the chance to get to encounter Jesus.

It is at this point that the living water now becomes the focus. Jesus has tapped into the well of her soul—and living water is indeed pouring out, and the Samaritan woman is overflowing with the joy of expectancy and hope. Where previously she had been mired in her past, and her struggles and disappointments, her being devalued by those closest to her and powerless to change that without truly scandalizing the social structures of her time, now she is set free by the transformative power of Jesus.

Jesus meets each of us and asks us to cast down our buckets into the well of our souls that we might also be refreshed, restored, and transformed by the water of purpose and hope he offers. Right now—both as individuals, as a parish, and, in this time of fear and anxiety magnified by pandemic, as a people who are being challenged to display compassion and care for each other in the coming days and weeks. As true disciples of Jesus, like this woman, we are called to witness to the gospel of Christ by taking the good news to those who are also right now, filled with very real fear and anxiety. That is exactly who we are called to be as Christians in deed as well as word.

Our readings are calling us to re-examine the power of faith in each other, and the power of community to open our hearts to receive testimony to the truth, to the hope that is fed and watered by caring for one another, rather than the panic spread by rumors. What a different story would it have been in Exodus if the people had remembered how far they had come, and seen the strength that came from being molded as a people even during times of trial and searching? What a different story it would have been in John’s gospel if the woman would have shunned Jesus’s request rather than be awed and amazed by Jesus’s openness to bringing the gospel to her, and his admission that he needed something from her? Now THERE are two precious reminders for us right her, right now.

This is a time for us to live into being the Beloved Community of witnesses that Jesus calls us to. that his gospel of action. Just like that woman, we too are called to expand the horizon of our action from just our household to include our community—our fellow parishioners and our neighbors.

We are blessed to have each other—to have this strong, vibrant community of faith that refreshes us and restored us not just each weekend. The love and sense of belonging we receive here flows from that living water Jesus offers each of us from a well that will never run dry. The encounter with Jesus that is always at the center of our activities within this parish calls us to witness to our neighbors and community just s that Samaritan woman did.

Especially in a time such as this. Too much of the world is reacting to the pandemic we are in the midst of by turning inward in a way that magnifies the fear that looms all to close during such a time of uncertainty. 

Even as we are encouraged to physically distance ourselves from each other, we have to remember that the reasons for that distancing is not just about protecting ourselves, but about protecting each other. We can—and MUST-- testify to the power of God active in our world by our charity, faithfulness and love for each other. 

Even as we are encouraged to limit group activities, we must always demonstrate boldness in our care and concern for the truly vulnerable among us. To check on our neighbors—especially those who live alone, the isolated, those who fall within high risk groups. To share from our abundance. To strengthen this community of faith so that we can engage in our real work with the world around us in the name of the compassionate and reconciling heart of Jesus. 

Here is the message for today from God’s word: This is also a time for us to come together—to check on our neighbors, to show consideration for those who are vulnerable, to make sure people who become ill or who are at risk are supported rather than viewed with fear or suspicion. For too long, our hearts and the hearts of those around us have been waiting to be satisfied with the water of compassion, generosity, and true community. Our fearless witness to the love of Christ begins here. 

AMEN.

Preached at the 9:00 am single service at St. Martin's Episcopal Church, Ellisville, MO.

Readings:
Exodus 17:1-7
Psalm 95
Romans 5:1-11
John 4:5-42

Prayer, day 2603: Third Sunday in Lent

Almighty God, our prayers rise to You
with the rising sun: let us worship You 
and give thanks in your holy places.

Give us the wisdom 
to follow with gratitude 
when You lead us through the wilderness of sin 
that envelops us.
In places of contention and testing, 
let us witness to the power of the One 
whose mercies never cease.
Give us living water,
that we may worship You, Lord Christ, I
n spirit and in truth,
testifying to your saving love. 

Holy One, you know what is in our hearts: 
spread the fold of your mercy over us,
and give comfort to those we now name.

Amen.

Prayer 2602: In Time of Fear and Pandemic

God of All Mercy,
we praise You and bless You,
and put our trust in You,
for You are ever-faithful,
and your tender gaze is ever upon us in love.

Let us take your hand today,
O Shepherd of Our Souls,
and be strengthened within your embrace,
that we may care for each other steadfastly.

Spirit of Wisdom,
bless the healers and caregivers,
the scientists, doctors, nurses,
whose gifts are especially in need at this time,
and give us the will to support them and each other
in this time of crisis.

Blessed Savior,
help us to be your hands
to soothe the anxious,
to protect the vulnerable,
to seek out the isolated,
to give selflessly from our abundance
for the support of all,
so that all may be safe and secure.

Knit us together as one body,
Almighty One,
that we always hold fast to our unity as your children.
Bless us as we seek to embody your love,
and spread the awning of your mercy
over all for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 2601: In a time of pandemic

Almighty One,
we bow before You, 
and offer you our thanks and praise
for the weight of your hand upon us, 
and for your abiding, steadfast care.

O Lord Who Heals,
bend near to your children,
and guide us to a deeper understanding
of our interrelatedness and common good
as we seek to care for each other.

O God Our Shepherd,
may we extend every effort
to care for the vulnerable and the ill,
the isolated and the anxious,
loving each other as we love our own breath
in the name of the God Who Saves.

Strengthen us in charity and compassion,
in our watchfulness and generosity
that we may act in whole-heartedness and wisdom
as your children,
O Fashioner of Light.

We place our cares and concerns before You,
O Giver of Life to All,
and ask your blessing upon those for whom we pray.

Amen.

Prayer 2600

Most Merciful God,
Our Stronghold and Our Help,
we praise You and adore You
for your faithfulness has never failed,
and your blessings are without number.

Blessed Jesus, accept our humble repentance
for all our hardness of heart;
help us to turn to the path of compassion,
upheld by your grace and example,
O Lord of Life.
Give us an awareness of your mercies, O Holy One, 
that we may embody your truth
with gladness and joy. 

May we be beacons of hope, mercy, and faithfulness,
watching over each other in fearful times,
staying alongside the vulnerable,
all to the glory of your Name, O God Our Shepherd.

Spirit of God,
kindle your fire within us,
that we may reflect the light of Christ into the world,
and grant your blessing 
upon those cares and concerns 
we lay before God's altar within our hearts.

Amen.

Thirst: Speaking to the Soul, March 12, 2020

This Sunday, we hear two stories about thirst.

In the first reading from Exodus 17:1-7, the Israelites are stricken with thirst in the wilderness and complain violently to Moses, blaming God (and Moses, as God’s spokesman) for their plight. God responds by providing water from a rock that Moses strikes with his staff. In the gospel, from John 4:5-42, we hear a story that starts with Jesus admitting his thirst, and asking for a drink from a Samaritan woman he encounters at Jacob’s Well. This request initiates a conversation that leads to a multitude from an entire Samaritan town to believe in Jesus as Messiah. In doing so, these Samaritans thereby have their thirst quenched with living water, even as Jesus’s own people have trouble recognizing him as the fulfillment of prophecy.

The reading from Exodus this week is one of an Old Testament genre called “murmuring stories.” These are stories in which the people “murmur”—in our text, it is rendered as “quarreled,” but it seems that misses the flavor. “Murmuring against” someone is so much more suggestive of that tendency we all have to mutter just audibly enough to be heard, that passive-aggressive tactic that allows one to later deny that one has said anything at all. 

Murmuring of this type is filled with negativity, ingratitude, a simmering resentment and discontent. Here are the Israelites, freed from slavery in Egypt, moaning about how their every need isn’t being taken care of while they are traveling back to their homeland. And rather than take steps to care for each other, the people dare to blame God for their predicament, rather than remember that God is alongside them and all of us in our trials in the wilderness. 

Last week we heard the magnificent, sweeping promise of John 3:16-17—

“For God so loved the world that God gave God’s only Son,

so that everyone who believes in him may not perish

but may have eternal life. 

Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world 

to condemn the world, 

but in order that the world might be saved

through him.”

In going from talking to the powerful and respected Nicodemus in the dead of the night to talking to an outcast, unnamed woman, cast aside by at least five husbands, Jesus proves that he is sent to bring his good news to the entire world, indeed, without respect to barriers of race, ethnicity, privilege, gender, or status.

And as fears of the COVID-19 pandemic spread in our own time, we hear stories right now of people hoarding supplies and in some infamous cases, refusing to self-quarantine. We see churches determined to remain beacons of faith while taking pro-active steps to keep parishioners safe. Should we cancel worship services? Should we discontinue the use of the common cup at the Eucharist?

Buried within our readings for this coming Sunday are stories that can lead us to re-examine the power of faith in each other, and the power of community to open our hearts to receive testimony to the truth, to the hope that is fed and watered by caring for one another, rather than the panic spread by rumors. What a different story it would have been in Exodus if the people had remembered how far they had come, and seen the strength that came from being molded as a people even during times of trial and searching. What a different story it would have been in John’s gospel if the woman would have shunned Jesus’s request rather than be awed and amazed by Jesus’s openness to bringing the gospel to her, and his admission that he needed something from her?

As our readings this Sunday remind us, this is also a time for us to come together—to check on our neighbors, to show consideration for those who are vulnerable, to make sure people who become ill or who are at risk are supported rather than viewed with fear or suspicion. For too long, our hearts and the hearts of those around us have been waiting to be satisfied with the water of compassion, generosity, and true community. Our witness to the love of Christ begins here.

This was first published at Episcopal Cafe's Speaking to the Soul, March 12, 2020.

Prayer 2599

Most Merciful God,
we bow our heads before you in silence,
and open the gates of our hearts to receive your Word:
Holy One, hear our prayer,
and guide our steps into your Way.

Your generous hand, O God,
broadcasts abundant blessings,
and your grace is our shade and our refuge.
Make us a blessing to others today,
that we may live not only for ourselves,
but for the joyous work you have laid upon us.
With gratitude, may we carry your light into the darkness,
and show forth the beauty of your handiwork
in the world all about us,
from sweeping vistas to mustard seeds.
Blessed Savior,
may your commandments take root within us
that charity and mercy may flourish in our lives.

Draw us within the warmth of your embrace,
O Lover of Souls,
and by the power of the Holy Spirit,
grant your peace and comfort on those for whom we pray.

Amen.


Relevant Scripture: Mark 4:1-20