Bearing Witness
SEEKERS CHURCH
A Christian Community
In the Tradition of the Church of the Saviour
Easter 2002
Bearing Witness
REFLECTION
In his speech, foxes, breaddough
and much mended nets became sacred
the down and out were his proof
and actually he had as much assurance
of victory as we in these parts do
None
Dorothee Sölle, Revolutionary Patience,
in “Cries of the Spirit,” by Marilyn Sewell
SILENCE
CALL TO WORSHIP
Leader: The loneliness of the cross
led Jesus to the resurrection.
All: We are invited by Jesus
to follow him into this loneliness,
the loneliness in which God is too close
to be experienced by our limited hearts and minds.
Let us pray for the grace
to surrender our spirits to God as Jesus did.
INVOCATION
HYMN
WORD FOR THE CHILDREN
SILENCE
LITANY
Leader: You give us answers
to the questions we don’t dare to ask.
You ask us questions that have no reply.
Voice 1: You give us bread and say it is your body,
and in eating it, we become your body, too.
Voice 2: You pour your life out into ours,
and we learn to pour ourselves out to heal the world.
Voice 1: We ask for proof. We don’t understand:
The empty tomb, and you, here among us!
Voice 2: Despite our doubts and confusion,
We shout, “Christ is Risen!”
All: And know that, improbable as it seems,
Christ is risen, indeed.
SILENCE
PRAYERS
CONFESSION
All: To believe in resurrection
is to believe in the impossible;
To believe in the bread of life and living water
is to believe in that which cannot be proved;
To believe in the reality of the cross
is to believe in the reality of love.
Leader: To have faith is to live
without guarantee,
without certainty,
without proof.
All: We confess to the comfort of knowledge.
We confess that relying on our intellect
is easier than relying on faith.
Too often, belief requires too much of us.
INDIVIDUAL PRAYERS OF CONFESSION
ASSURANCE
Leader: In the Resurrection, God gives us a healing mystery:
by giving over our limited minds and hearts
to a limitless God
we are made whole.
All: Amen.
PRAYERS OF THE COMMUNITY
HYMN
THE WORD
SCRIPTURE
SERMON
SILENT REFLECTION
OFFERING
The first Sunday of each month we switch to a Communion Liturgy here.
SHARED REFLECTIONS
ANNOUNCEMENTS
HYMN
BENEDICTION
Leader: If we have one thing to do in these times,
it is to bear witness.
Go out to the ordinary places of your life,
filled with this extraordinary mystery:
"Christ is risen!"
People: Christ is risen, indeed! Alleluia!
Worship Resources
Confession: Based on Henry J. M. Nouwen, Bread for the Journey, entry for July 31
Benediction: Based on Etty Hillesum, as quoted in “In Wisdom’s Path,” by Jan L. Richardson.
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Additional Prayers during Easter
March 31, 2002 (Easter Day)
Prayers by Peter Bankson, Liturgist
Lessons: Acts 10:34‑43 or Jeremiah 31:1‑6
Psalm 118:1‑2, 14‑24
Colossians 3:1‑4 or Acts 10:34‑43
John 20:1‑18 or Matthew 28:1‑10
Invocation
O holy mystery of life returning from the tomb,
we’ve come because you call us.
God of restless hope,
while it was still dark,
the agony three days cold in the tomb,
the empty cross awaiting death’s next meal —
before dawn this very morning,
your spirit filled the air with gentle rain,
the finger of your spirit moved slowly,
dappling the waters now pregnant with creation.
O risen Christ, open to us the gates of righteousness,
that we may enter through them and give thanks.
Come fill us with your mystery, your power and your promise
for we gather as your resurrection people,
beneath this empty cross — your sign of hope. Amen.
Thanksgiving
O God, the chorus of creation cries out:
"Christ is risen! Alleluia!"
"Christ is risen! Alleluia!" sing the supple winds of Spring.
Cherries drinking in the sun cry: "Christ is risen!”
We stoop and stare into the dark with Mary and the others —
The tomb is empty: “Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia!”
We see the empty tomb and know that you have gone before us.
Our yeasty vision grows, feasting on the honey of fresh hope.
We face the unknown, washed by uncertainty,
hungry for assurance in the face of multiplying possibilities.
O God of constant new beginnings,
receive our prayers of praise and thanks,
for all that you provide,
but most deeply this morning,
for the life and love of Christ.
Intercession
Smiling, celebrating chef of spicy opportunity,
the empty grave presents us with a mystery.
We know that Christ is risen,
but in these days between the resurrection and the coming of the holy spirit,
we taste again the doubt that tests our faith.
We hunger for large platters of assurance,
but often what we get are little appetizers, fresh opportunities on a toothpick,
just enough to keep our growling innards quiet while heavenly aromas fill the air around us,
rising from whatever you are cooking up for the future.
We pray that, being one with Christ, our hopes will grow into an Easter feast,
full of astonishing new possibilities.
On this damp day when war and terrorism thrive,
we pray for peace for those who are engulfed in violence.
We pray for people in Afghanistan and Israel,
for victims, and for those who are the agents of this violence —
for soldiers and governments and terrorists.
We pray for freedom for those who are imprisoned,
for nourishment in the face of hunger,
for gladness in the face of grief and sorrow.
Hear now, o God of healing love,
our prayers for those who suffer on this day of celebration.
Closing
Come Holy Spirit, come fill us with the hope of resurrection.
Show us what it means to feast on mystery and opportunity.
Come draw us fully into the presence of the risen Christ, in whose name we pray. Amen.
April 7, 2002
Prayers by Deborah Sokolove, Liturgist
Lessons: Acts 2:14a, 22‑32
Psalm 16
1 Peter 1:3‑9
John 20:19‑31
Invocation
Holy Lover, God-With-Us, God who knows us,
you fill us with grace, and call us to be your people.
You invite us to your table,
and feed us with the beauty of the world you have made.
In this Easter season,
the abundant splendor of your creation astounds us.
Clouds of white and pink and red
and wine-colored blossoms appear
where days before had been bare, empty twigs.
Now, they twirl around, blown on your gusting breath,
fragile scraps of material sunlight.
In this Easter season,
you remind us that your love endures
beyond all that we fear, beyond all that we endure,
beyond all that we doubt.
Today, we come again to celebrate the Good News
of the One we recognize in the breaking of bread,
in the pouring of wine,
and in gathering as one small part of your Holy Body.
Let your holy Spirit breath among and through us,
and let us know that we are your beloved people.
Praise and Thanks
Holy One, Holy Three, Holy Lover,
We give you thanks for the seeds, the flowers,
the grass, the trees, the fruit, and the wheat
that fill our hearts with delight and our bodies with food.
We give you thanks for the birds and the fish,
the sheep, the bears, the turtles, and the worms
that fill the earth with their lives
and our lives with amazement.
We give you thanks for family and friends,
for the gift of words and of silence,
for memory and for hope,
for the saints who have gone before us,
and the children who will follow.
Hear, now, our prayers of praise and thanks,
aloud and in the silence of our hearts.
Petition and Intercession
For all these things, we give thanks, O Wisdom of God.
And yet for some it is hard to give thanks.
It is hard to give thanks when we know
that tanks are rolling in the streets of Bethlehem,
that bombs explode in the streets of Jerusalem,
that hatred and fear drive out reason in too many places.
It is hard to give thanks when we know
that too many have no food, no homes, no work;
that too many have no friends, no family, no safe place;
that too many live without knowing your love.
And when it is hard to give thanks, we offer our prayers
for those who have houses and for those who have none;
for those who have much and for those who have little;
for those who rejoice and for those who mourn;
for those who are waiting in hope or in fear,
and for those who no longer wait at all.
Holy, mysterious, One-in-Three,
hear now our prayers of petition and intercession
aloud or in the silence of our hearts.
Closing
Holy Wisdom, Holy Lover, Holy Breath,
receive these, the prayers of our hearts,
Show us the path of life,
and let us know that
in your presence there is fullness and joy;
in your right hand are pleasures forevermore. AMEN.
April 14, 2002
Prayers by Sherri Alms, Liturgist
Lessons: Acts 2:14a, 36‑41
Psalm 116:1‑4, 12‑19
1 Peter 1:17‑23
Luke 24:13‑35
Invocation
In your love, life-giving, merciful and ever-present Creator,
we find our voices heard, our prayers answered.
Come now to this your holy house
where we bring before you the suffering and pain
of our neighbors the world round
and call for your healing touch in our own lives.
We lift up the cup of salvation
and call on the name of God
whose bounty can never be repaid.
We are your servant and the servant
of your created world.
Come to us, Spirit of Peace and Wholeness,
Come among us gathered in your name.
Thanksgiving
Quiet mystery,
You come to us in ways that are easy to miss, to overlook or to dismiss.
And yet in those signs of your belief and faith in us,
we find our faith and belief in you.
In the miracle that is a freshly baked
loaf of bread for a hungry people;
In the heart of one hot pink azalea,
a symbol of irrepressible life;
In an unruly stubborn band of disciples
so much like us and yet always loved and never deserted;
In the song of one bird, persistent and silly with the
news of the earth’s resurrection into spring;
In much mended fishnets that catch
what cannot be seen but only felt through the heart;
In the sight of a soaring falcon above a city apartment house,
unlikely symbol of your presence in a broken world.
Unseen spirit,
Sometimes, faith is a small thread on which to hold
but it is a golden one.
We give you our heartfelt thanks that you never let go,
that your love never fails,
that in Jesus you gave us a promise of a life abundant and perfectly whole.
In these troubled times, the paradox of eternal and limitless love
is almost impossible to believe.
We give you thanks that you make it possible.
For where we have seen signs of resurrection and peace this week, we give you thanks¼
Intercession
Loving source of all that is holy,
So much of the news in the past months
breaks our hearts, tests our faith, and leaves our spirits in ashes.
Where is the hope that you promised?
Where is the love that you embody?
Where is the justice that you demand?
As we pray for wholeness, for peace, for justice,
we cling to the Easter story, so absolutely impossible
and yet the one story that promises
life from a tomb,
hope from a cross,
love from death.
In one young carpenter who spoke of
fishnets, bread dough, and lilies of the field,
we find a way to live that can transform our spirits into flames.
Please hear us as we pray for our empty places, our exhaustion and sickness,
and our desperate need for hope¼
Closing
In the name of the one
who believed in your wisdom even unto death,
Life-giver, Source of all love,
we pray this day and always
that you will walk with us
on our roads to Emmaus,
break bread with us,
and give us the strength to live
our lives in faith.
Amen.
April 21, 2002
Prayers by Pat Conover, Liturgist
Lessons: Acts 2:42‑47
Psalm 23
1 Peter 2:19‑25
John 10:1‑10
Invocation
We are living after the revolution, after the Messiah has come. Alleluia! Nothing else has to happen. Everything is ready. The promised presence of the Holy Spirit is among us. There is no reason to delay embracing God, no reason to delay embracing each other, no reason to delay our own offerings.
This is good time ‑ a gift ‑ a time to recognize and celebrate ‑ a time to be aligned and attuned ‑ a time to notice and be glad. Attend to what is worthy, to what is worthwhile, for that is our true worthship.
Introduction and Celebration
Now we have time to remember and notice the good gifts that have come to us, all the ways God is moving within us, between us, and before us: luring us into greater trust and engagement.
This morning we celebrate the fecundity and profligacy of pollen. Fill up our noses and let us sneeze and cough with wonder at all the ways your creation is eager to impregnate and give birth. Let us share our own gifts and caring with similar lightness, trusting that you will waste and sneeze and save and give the growth.
Petition and Intercession
This is your time and all is ready, but we cry out that so many gifts and possibilities have been clutched and not given, that the stew of oppression and rebellion hides your counsel in war, that misunderstood self‑interest tolerates and condones epidemic diseases and desperate hunger.
We open ourselves now to all the pain that comes with being alive, that comes with caring. We notice that death is part of living and would trust you even with that part of our journey. We notice that in your profligacy, O God, that so much falls to the ground, ready for life but dying without ever becoming ripe. We accept that we are only creatures, O God, but we call out to
you now that all is not easy, all is not right, that so much hurts.
Hear our prayers of petition and intercession.
Gathering Prayer
We have found words for some of our confessions, our celebrations, our hurting and hoping. We ask you now to hear us and hold us beyond what we can bring to words.
Regrounded in prayer, we turn now to listen for your word to us. Amen.
April 28, 2002
Prayers by Peter Bankson, Liturgist
Lessons: Acts 7:55‑60
Psalm 31:1‑5, 15‑16
1 Peter 2:2‑10
John 14:1‑14
Invocation
God of the world and every thing that’s in it,
holy maker of dogwood and nesting geese
and barking foxes in the meadow,
we have gathered here again
to remind ourselves that you are God of all.
We pray that you will fill us with your Spirit
as you filled those faithful sisters and brothers
who have gone before us,
for we gather here this morning to celebrate and pray
in the name of our Saviour, who is Jesus, the Christ. Amen
Thanksgiving
Bright blossoming God of Easter hope,
Holy maker of pollen and petal,
God of change and new beginnings,
we find our inner landscape stretched in new directions.
Life is so quick, we need the gift of silence and the open fields
to help see through the blur around us
to the beauty of your truth.
We celebrate the wild blossom banquet
knowing it will wither long before we’ve had our fill of salmon,
pink and lavender piled high beneath the oaks.
We gather with our friends of many years,
and part again before we’ve had the time to tell each other
all the stories that remind us who we are.
And yet, we know your promise to be with us every time we gather,
even when we think we’ve come for something else.
O Holy God of Sabbath rest,
just now we stop, and breathe
and raise our prayers of praise and thanks to you,
for unexpected joys and hurried glimpses of your gift of life.
Intercession
O raging, downpour of holy passion,
we come half hoping not to find you here,
half wanting just the quiet of the morning,
and not the clamor of the life you keep creating.
Our joy this Easter season
is beaten to the ground like some drowned tulip,
naked stamen standing in a puddle,
mud-stained petals twisting in the tiny current
heading for the sea.
We need to stop, and breathe,
and reach out for the Sabbath gifts you bring.
But when we take the time
to try to understand and celebrate
the richness of your gift of life,
we find it bound together with the pain of war.
The pains of life —
the anguished grief of death and separation,
the grinding numbness of neglect and poverty,
the stab of greed, or disregard, or blindness chosen —
these pains seem to move with us, lingering in our bodies
even as the joy you offer us so freely slips beyond our sight.
We need to stop, and breathe,
and reach out for the Sabbath gifts you bring.
O God of this creation,
holy maker of our lives in this community,
we lift up in your loving presence all the pain we know.
We stop, and breathe,
and offer you our fear, and pain
our prayers for those in need.
Closing
God of the world and everything that’s in it,
we shout our thanks and praise into the howl of your creativity,
and claim your promise that the holy spirit is on the way.
For we would name ourselves an Easter people,
part of the body of the risen Christ. Amen.
May 5, 2002
Prayers by Peter Bankson, Liturgist
Lessons: Acts 17:22‑31
Psalm 66:8‑20
1 Peter 3:13‑22
John 14:15‑21
Invocation
God of all creation,
Bright, Greening Fountain of Blossoms,
Maker of Life —
we come together this damp morning
to celebrate the love that pours from you
through us
and out into the world.
Fill us with the good news of the risen Christ;
fill us ‘til your love pours out
in ways we could never imagine.
Open us to the mystery of death and resurrection
in bread broken and grape crushed
as we gather at your gospel table
in the spirit of the risen Christ. Amen.
Thanksgiving
Holy, wondrous God,
Creator of the Universe,
God of quiet promises
of new life springing into sight,
God of mighty rivers and terrifying storms,
we’ve come today,
to celebrate your presence in this time and place.
We see your holy growing power
and investment in the future,
our gardens are alive with blossom;
birds labor from dawn to dusk
to make a home for their next generation,
singing as they work.
The dandelion army is already on the march,
claiming new territory for the future.
This is the time for new beginnings,
not only in the world around us,
but in the world within,
and we give thanks for the good news in Christ,
good news that promises
that we, too, are each invited to a new beginning.
We bring our prayers of praise and thanks,
for hope and healing in our troubled world.
Intercession
God of healing and forgiveness
we come today with burdens, too.
We know that pain and violence
are also growing fast this season.
There is the pain of those we love,
who suffer from disease and isolation.
There is the pain of those in Palestine
and Israel and Afghanistan
who suffer from the violence of terror and counter-terror
in the name of peace.
We share with so many the fear that comes
when people rise up in angry violence
and kill to get the attention
they feel they have been denied.
We come, o God of healing love,
to raise our prayers for those in need.
Hear now our prayers for them — and for ourselves,
for we would be dandelions of hope
in the face of violence and fear.
Closing
God of all creation,
Bright, Greening Fountain of Blossoms,
Maker of Life —
open us to the miracle
of your transforming presence in our lives
for we have gathered at your table of remembrance
as one small part of the body of Christ. Amen.
May 12, 2002
Prayers by Peter Bankson, Liturgist
Lessons: Acts 1:1‑11
Psalm 47 or Psalm 93
Ephesians 1:15‑23
Luke 24:44‑53
Invocation
Holy God,
Creator of the world and every thing that is in it,
holy maker of dogwood and nesting geese,
creator of mirth and mercy,
we have gathered here again
to remind ourselves that you are God of all
and that we are your people.
Fill us with your Spirit
as you filled those faithful sisters and brothers
who have gone before us,
for we gather here this morning
to celebrate and pray
in the name of our Saviour, who is Jesus, the Christ. Amen
Thanksgiving
Bright blossoming God of Easter hope,
holy maker of sailing maple seed and pale pink bleeding heart,
God of change and new beginnings,
we find our inner landscape pummeled by the winds of change.
Today we stop to wonder how it was
for those who knew you as their teacher Jesus —
who knew his vital presence after he’d been crucified,
received the blessing from his very hands
and heard him promise that although he’d go
they would not be alone —
then watched him leave …. again.
Fountain of Eternal Hope,
we thank you that we’ve known that mystery
well enough to ask for more.
Today we stop just long enough to take a look around
and see the gentle promise of new life,
the joy you offer us in newborn babies,
the smell of fresh concrete foundations settling in the mud,
the tiny signs of hope in Israel and Palestine,
as your people worship once again in the church of the nativity .
Today we also stop to thank our moms,
for loving us, or putting up with us,
for teaching us some hard, cold lessons,
and in the end, for letting us be who we are.
For moms, for gentle promises of new life,
for mysteries of presence in the spirit,
for these and so much more,
we offer you our prayers of praise and thanks.
Intercession
Holy comforter of the fearful and the heavy-laden,
God of hope that springs from nothing
like some fiery plume of galaxies in labor,
giving birth to stars and so much more;
holy mystery of the Spirit that sustains us
even in the midst of fear and pain,
we’ve brought our pain into this room today.
We hurt from illness and the fear it generates;
we ache for those caught up in war and violence;
we can’t let go of fears that those we love will suffer,
even more … and there is often not much we can think to do.
At times our hearts are full of grateful thanks
for all the wonder of this life,
and then we learn that someone else we love is stricken
or the violence has flared again,
or flood and famine are rampaging,
battering what little hope is left for those caught in the path.
We’ve learned that times like these
are very difficult to face alone
and so we’ve come together,
and together turn to you,
to ask for comfort, help and healing.
Hear now our prayers for those in pain and need,
and for ourselves,
for we have come to know that we won’t make it by ourselves.
Closing
Holy God,
creator of the world and every thing that is in it,
fill us with your Spirit
as you filled those faithful sisters and brothers
who have gone before us,
for we gather here this morning
to celebrate and pray
in the name of our Saviour, who is Jesus, the Christ. Amen.
