Sunday, August 3, 2014

3 for Communion

Invocation
If we pay attention to the world, in general, and to our own lives, in particular, O Lord, we see, feel, hear, smell, and taste that you are already present in every place and circumstance. Let us, then, today, invoke the power of your Holy Spirit in our lives to slow down, sharpen our gifts of observation, and sense your presence in this hour of worship, that we may find ways to carry that recognition with us to work, school, and play every day; through Jesus, the incarnate one, who pitched tent in our neighborhood for this very purpose. Amen.

Call to Confession
John’s gospel tells of a woman caught in adultery. Smug religious leaders, who believe they are too good to sin, drag this woman before Jesus and accuse her, hoping that he will confirm the chasm between their morality and her immorality and demand that she be beaten to death with stones.

Instead, Jesus stoops and begins writing in the sand. All of them stand with bated breath; the woman hoping it won’t be her last breath, and the religious leaders flexing their muscles and holding their stones of conviction high and mighty. He simply says, “Let the one who has NO sin cast the first stone.” Whatever Jesus wrote in the sand, it must have been exactly what the religious leaders needed to rip away the façade of their self-righteousness; because all of the accusers, one by one, dropped their weapons and walked away.

When just the two of them were left, Jesus turned to the woman and asked, “Where are your accusers? Is there no one left to condemn you?” The answer given was, “No one, Lord.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more.”

That’s grace, and it’s offered to the whole world every day, every hour, every moment. Let us confess our sins that it may be freely offered to us also.


Prayer for Illumination
We’ve moved the candles off the table to make room for the loaf and cup, O Lord. It’s not that we need any less light; just that there’s not enough room for fire and food today, with all the ritual movement we are reenacting. Even though we aren’t using the candles as a part of our worship this morning, we are still in need of your holy fire.


Keep it coming, O God. Bring the light of your promise to the hidden places in our lives; places we’ve walled-off from you and everyone else, places that feel so broken that we’re afraid to let them be seen. Bring your gift of grace to bear on us, so that, as your word is read and proclaimed through song, sermon, and silence, and as it is enacted through sacrament, we may be nourished by hope, and become courageous enough to reveal your grace now and to all generations forevermore. Amen.

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