March
27, 2019
Well
Homily
Please
pray with me,
Gracious
God, as you led the Israelites through the wilderness, as you were with Joseph
and Mary as they journeyed to Bethlehem, and as you journeyed with Jesus to the
cross….you are with us now. Guide our
hearts, minds and bodies on this Lenten journey. Continue to turn us toward you, creating
within us clean hearts, marking us with the cross, lighting our paths and
guiding us every step of the way. In
Jesus’ name we pray amen.
Psalm
63, our appointed psalm for this past Sunday, calls us into a prayer of hope
and thanksgiving with God.
It’s
a psalm that lifts up the amazing vastness of God’s love and grace for the
entire world, yet at the same time shows the intimacy God has with each and
every one of us.
I
don’t know about you, but while the vastness of God’s mercy, grace and love is
ah-may-zing…I need that intimate relationship with God. In fact, I long for it.
O
God, you are my God, I seek you….
This
Lent I’ve been journeying each day with Julian of Norwich, I think I may have
mentioned this already, but my daily devotions have some of her writings, a
small passage of scripture, some questions to ponder, a passage from a psalm
and more questions to reflect upon before a closing prayer.
I
used this devotional for Lent 6 years ago.
So, while I’m coming back to it again, it’s brand new this Lent. What I have noticed this time, is that the
first few weeks of Lent I was deeply focusing on Julian’s writings and the
questions that followed.
What
I’ve found more recently is that I’ve used the journaling time and space for
conversations with God through written prayers.
It seems this Lent, I’ve been drawn into a more intimate relationship
with God that I have been nurturing through mediation and my own prayer
life.
With
the regularity of a set time and place for these daily devotions, my heart and
mind are ready to open up to conversations with God during this time.
Like
the psalmist writes, my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you, as in a
dry and weary land where there is no water.
Yet
this longing for God’s presence is more than just being parched, or needing my
thirst quenched. It’s seeing the love
and grace of God in my midst each and every day.
There
are times when I pray that I do cry out to God in lament over the imperfections
in my life and my relationships with others.
I cry out for God’s presence to mend broken relationships, melt hardened
hearts, and to allow enough time and space for healing.
In
the midst of the troubling times, I do seek God in this place, for solace,
compassion, grace and forgiveness.
As
the psalmist writes, I know that God has been my help…and will be my help, but
I still cry out. I still voice my
worries, concerns, cares and joys to God in my own personal prayers as well as
in the communal prayers and worship within the context of this faith community,
in this sanctuary.
Because
this place, this sacred space is often where I am visually and physically
reminded of how God’s hand upholds me.
I’m
reminded of this as I see you all, all of us, come together week after week to
a place of prayer, communion and fellowship.
I’m
reminded of it as I see the hand prints on this parament from our Sunday School
kiddos.
I’m
reminded of this as I see and experience the love of God lived out through the
actions of others.
I’m
reminded of this as God presents moments of pure love and grace through the
bodies of you all…the people gathered to worship in this space.
Last
week after Holden Evening Prayer, two young girls came up and knelt at the railing. They were
followed closely by an even younger girl, who comes to worship regularly with her mom and dad.
I
knelt down and asked if the first one wanted a prayer…yes, she said, and pray
for my mom. So I laid hands on her head, said a prayer and blessed her.
I
moved over and asked the second girl if she wanted a prayer, too. Yes, she said, and pray for my
grandfather. So I laid hands on her head, said a prayer and blessed her.
And
then there was the little one…up at the altar rail like she is every week for
communion. I said a prayer, gave her a
blessing and at the end she said, “amen.”
And she walked away.
I
couldn’t get up right away…I wanted to hold on to that sacred moment.
Where
two young girls led another one up…and they all knew that this place…is a place
for prayers, blessings and that it is safe. We were all held in God's hands in that moment.
You
all make this happen.
The
fact that I was part of this holy moment was one of those kingdom moments,
where God breaks in…and just says, I’m holding you, you all, in my hand.
Cling
to me, God says, I’ve got you.
Dr.
Timothy Wengert, the professor of Lutheran Confessions, when I was at Philly
seminary started a prayer one day in class like this,
Dear
God,
You
hold us in the palm of your hand…
And
then he lost his train of thought and paused.
Then
he said,
Don’t
drop us. Amen.
May
that be our prayer this night, confident that God holds us as we cling to God’s
love, grace and mercy.
Let
us pray,
Repeat
after me,
Dear
God,
You
hold us
in
the palm of your hand.
Don’t
drop us.
Amen.
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