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Sunday, April 25th, 2021 || 4th Sunday of Easter Pastor Christy Wright Yes, we are meeting outdoors at 9:30 AM, this Sunday in front of the Church! For full details, please read below in the Community Announcements Section. If you are unable to join us in person, we invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer online or over the phone for a pre-recorded service. Audio worship, including the prelude and postlude, prayers, and the sermon is available over the phone at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. Note that we may not be able to include the hymns in pre-recorded services - thank you for your understanding. Announcements Opening Hymn Scripture Reading - Matthew 5:13-16 “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled underfoot. You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Sermon Back in 2014, I moved to a small town nestled between Worcester and Boston called Hudson. It was a small, tight-knit community that was working through a limited economy and few resources. It was a bedroom community, a town where people would live and settle their lives, but commute out of town for work. We were close to the downtown area, so we had a firsthand view of what was happening (and not happening) in Hudson. We particularly enjoyed a great restaurant that quickly became an anchor for the community. The restaurant itself was only two years old when we first arrived, but its draw was clear: it brought folks from all over the region for their amazing food and great atmosphere. This restaurant's presence in downtown Hudson really truly made all the difference. Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago when I recently visited, and downtown Hudson is nearly unrecognizable from when I first lived there. From one anchor restaurant were birthed two other sister establishments across the street, plus lively storefronts, coffee shops, breweries, art galleries, salons, and additional restaurants that - rather than being in competition with one another, actually partner together for special events and menu swaps. This incredible movement - from one single restaurant to becoming a destination for folks from across the state - in just seven years. And in the middle of a pandemic to boot. In this morning’s scripture reading, we hear of Jesus’ reminder of our call as Christians, as faithful disciples: we are the salt of the earth. And we are the light of the world. If people looking in from the outside cannot see these characteristics, are we truly living into God’s will? But first, it’s important to note what it means to be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. What does that look like? How can we identify this in our own lives? When I think of salt, I think of something that enhances our current circumstances, something that lifts up what we have before us and creates a better experience. This might take the form of optimism, of being willing to push through barriers and not accept defeat. Being salt of the earth might also look like courage, courage to right the wrongs in our world. When I season my food with salt, I’m not only enhancing the flavor, but I’m also correcting the blandness - I’m making a change. And as salt of the earth people, as followers of Jesus, we are called to do the same: being unafraid to make changes. What about being the light of the world? What does that look like? Here’s one of my favorite things about light: it spreads. It grows. It shifts and changes. I’m thinking about how the light shifts from one side of the house to the other, as though sweeping across the space to reveal the things I so often miss. As disciples, we are called to be the light of the world, revealing truths and being part of the healing that comes after. As light, we are also called to reach out and spread out all throughout our community, building relationships and being present for one another. Put together, being the salt of the earth and the light of the world requires us to be visible, to be available, to be partners in and with our community rather than be cloistered in our own building and own circle. I don’t think Jesus ever meant for salt to season itself. And I don’t think Jesus ever meant for light to light up itself. Rather, salt and light are explicitly designed to be shared. When I think about that anchor restaurant in that small town of Hudson, their success didn’t come about because they cared about numbers and sales and shut themselves off from the community. Rather, they threw open their doors, invested in their community with their time and innovation, invited collaboration with other businesses, and then, stepped back to allow transformation to have its way with the people of Hudson. A slow and quiet downtown area has now been transformed into a thriving, bustling, and life-giving community. When I think about West Brookfield, I see so many ways that we ourselves have been a thriving, bustling, and life-giving community: we are home to a beautiful town common, a handful of businesses, and three churches. We have the people and the passion to put together our Annual Asparagus Festival (though sadly not this year), weekly Farmers Markets, White Christmas Events, and so much more. With the pandemic, we have had to scale back with our celebrations and gatherings, and we've had to learn how to get creative and think outside the box. But here's a question for us, here at George Whitefield: how can we participate in this community transformation? How can we become an anchor for our community? What can we do to help this community begin to recover from the pandemic? What is our role? As we close this morning, may we recognize the unrecognizable possibility in our midst. May we be moved by Jesus’ words to be and live as the salt of the earth and the light of the world. And may we partner with God to set things in motion, so we can step back and allow the Holy Spirit to move and grow and thrive, here in our community and beyond. Amen. Hymn of Meditation Benediction And now, may the peace of the Lord Christ go with you wherever God may send you; may God guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm; may God bring you home rejoicing at the wonders God has shown you; may God bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.
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Sunday, April 18th, 2021 || 3rd Sunday of Easter Pastor Christy Wright Yes, we are resuming our outdoor worship services at 9:30 AM, this Sunday in front of the Church! For full details, please read below in the Community Announcements Section. If you are unable to join us in person, we invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer online or over the phone for a pre-recorded service. Audio worship, including the prelude and postlude, prayers, and the sermon is available at https://georgewhitefieldumc.weebly.com/worship-services or over the phone at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. Note that we may not be able to include the hymns in pre-recorded services - thank you for your understanding. Announcements Opening Hymn Scripture Reading - Acts 4:32-35 All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus. And God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need. Sermon I remember the first time I talked with Pastor Zach. I was in my first year of seminary, and I was looking for a place to build community, and a place to call my spiritual home. I found out about Simple Church online, and it immediately intrigued me: it was a dinner church, a space where we could sit down together around the table, share in a meal, sing simple hymns, and have deep conversations about faith with one another. There was a phone number to call to let Pastor Zach know you were coming, and when I called, he sounded so excited: “Yes!” he said. “We’ll set a place for you!” Over the last several years, I’ve been connected to this dinner church in a variety of ways, and it always amazes me how quickly community is built, how fast we grow to love one another, and the impact we have on the surrounding towns. We share grace around the table, and that grace overflows into the community as we tell of the power of resurrection in our own lives and in the life of all those we’re connected with. I continue to marvel at how a place like this can feel so much like church, and yet be so unrecognizable from the pews and the organ and the four walls of what church is typically understood to be. In this morning’s scripture reading, we heard of how the first church was formed. It was simply a community of people who shared the deep belief that Jesus’ resurrection is the location of all healing, all beauty, all life, all love. It was a group of people whose possessions were held in common trust with one another, much like how we might stop by a neighbor’s house to borrow a cup of sugar or a couple of eggs. And the best part is that no one was ever in need - everyone had everything they needed because it was all shared among them. This description of the first church didn’t include measurements for the sanctuary, how many stained glass windows there ought to be, and if the pews should be upholstered in red fabric or dark blue. Rather, this passage from Acts focused on the relationships - for it is the people that make the church, not the building. And when we focus on the heart of the matter, sometimes the idea of church can become unrecognizable. Even for us, our own church has become unrecognizable in the time of Covid. We worshiped from home for the vast majority of the pandemic, and today, we are worshiping outside in the open air. For sure, things are incredibly different than they were before, but it doesn’t mean it’s all bad. Perhaps in this time of Covid, we have been given a chance to remember what church really is: a faith community rooted in God that cares deeply for one another and their neighbor. This is church: here, and now, we are the church. We are the people who make up the church. And though I am grieving leaving you all in July, you all have reminded me what church truly is: a group of deeply loving people who care for one another - whether by providing a cup of sugar or donating toward funeral funds, or dropping off meals or making a phone call to check in on someone. I have never felt more loved and more cared for, and I have been so blessed by you, even and especially as you continue to bless all those in our community and beyond. So may we continue on in our unrecognizable state, even as we make plans to return to the church building. May we continue to love God, love one another, and love our neighbor in the light of Christ. And may we always remember that it’s okay to be unrecognizable, just as Jesus was unrecognizable after his resurrection. For this is the location of all healing, all beauty, all life, all love. Amen. Hymn of Meditation Benediction And now, may the peace of the Lord Christ go with you wherever God may send you; may God guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm; may God bring you home rejoicing at the wonders God has shown you; may God bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.
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Sunday, April 11th, 2021 || 2nd Sunday of Easter Pastor Christy Wright Yes, we are resuming our outdoor worship services at 9:30 AM on the Charmil Drive Green! For full details, please read below in the Community Announcements Section. If you are unable to join us in person, we invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer online or over the phone for a pre-recorded service. Audio worship, including the prelude and postlude, prayers, and the sermon is available over the phone at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. Announcements Opening Hymn Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross UMH 301 1. Jesus, keep me near the cross; 2. Near the cross, a trembling soul, 4. Near the cross I’ll watch and wait, There a precious fountain, Love and mercy found me; Hoping, trusting, ever, Free to all, a healing stream, There the bright and morning star Till I reach the golden strand Flows from Calvary’s mountain. Sheds its beams around me. Just beyond the river. Refrain: In the cross, in the cross, be my glory ever, till my raptured soul shall find rest beyond the river. Scripture Reading - 1 John 1:1-2:2, 3:1-2 We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life - this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us - we declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete. This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world. See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. Sermon I want to start with a story I once heard a while back. A family from a remote area was making their first visit to a big city. They hadn’t ever traveled much, really much at all. They checked into a grand hotel and stood in amazement at the impressive sight. While the parents were getting room keys, the kids left the reception desk and went to the elevator entrance. They’d never seen an elevator before, and just stared at it, unable to figure out what it was for. An older lady made her way toward the elevator and went inside. The doors slid closed and she disappeared. About a minute later, the door opened and out came a young woman, completely unrecognizable. The kids couldn’t stop staring. Without turning their heads, they called out for their parents in complete shock! What was going on?? Sometimes transformation occurs in the blink of an eye, and other times it seems to take ages. How do we know when we’re in the midst of transformation? In this morning’s scripture reading, we hear of the ways in which the message of Jesus has been passed on through stories, through generations, through families and churches proclaiming God’s love. Through such stories, the Light of God has been revealed, and we recognize our call toward living as children of God. But I’m also seeing something else here, in this passage: a movement of four different transformations. The first is the realization that I am sacred, and that we are all sacred in Christ. Through Jesus’ great love for us, we have an abundance of grace that not only meets us where we are, in our brokenness, but also grace that helps us move forward. And when we recognize our own sacredness, we can never be the same. We begin to treat ourselves differently, and others differently, knowing that we have all been made in the image of God. That, indeed, is a transformation. The second movement in our transformational journey is that, when we live into God’s call for our lives, we will begin to sense our own identity coming to fruition. We will begin to live in authentic ways that feed our souls. No longer are we trying to fit the mold of what society expects us to be, or who we feel we should be, but rather, we break free of all expectations and live as God calls us to live: authentically ourselves, genuine to our roots which can be found in Christ. But this isn’t easy. This sort of transformation doesn’t just happen. We can’t sit back and passively receive, or wait for someone else to do the work. Which brings us to our third movement, our third growth ring: we’ve got work to do. Yes, God provides, but we are called to partner with God in the work of our souls - whether through prayer and meditation, or through service to the community. Which leads us to the last and perhaps most beautiful of the transformative movement: the personal transformation we experience when we recognize that I cannot be me without you. As a community, we need each other. There’s a reason we’re organized as faith communities - because we can’t have a relationship with God without relationships with others. And what a blessing it is to recognize that we do in fact have so many advocates, mentors, and friends who walk with us. As we embark on this journey of transformation over the next several weeks, we’ll be exploring the ways in which we’re recognizing the beauty all around us: personally, within our faith community, in our local towns, across the world, and, indeed, in the future to come. I’d like to close with a prayer adapted by Charlene Dior: Your Word says, “be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” (Romans 12:2). We know that our thoughts influence our lives. We also know that we can be transformed and our lives can be transformed by the renewing of our minds. We’ve come a long way from who we used to be. Yet, we know there is so much more for us to become. We pray that You help instill in us the right mindset to go where You’d have us go next. If we’re being honest, we can definitely identify some areas in our lives where we don’t have the best mindset. Places where we’re selfish and inflexible or have low expectations of people (so what’s the point?). At the same time we know in order for You to answer our specific prayers (You know the ones), we have to adopt a selfless and flexible mindset. If we are to accomplish Your will for our lives, we can’t hold on to this same mindset. We’re praying for Your guidance. We’re praying for your grace. To be honest, a part of us may not want to change our attitudes and mindsets as it relates to some things. Life and circumstances have brought us to a place where compromise and serving others seems counter intuitive and self sabotaging. But we know we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. We know that we are meant to grow and be molded by You. So even though a part of us is resistant, we know our mindset needs to be renewed so our lives can be transformed. Guide us, God. Plant in us a new way of thinking. Give us new thoughts and new beliefs. We pray for the strength to fully adopt a new way of thinking that aligns with Your Word and the things You have for us to do. Help us release the thoughts and beliefs that do not serve You and will actually hinder us in the places which You are taking us. Thank you for hearing our prayer and for Your presence now and always. Amen. Hymn of Meditation He Touched Me UMH 367 1. Shackled by a heavy burden, Refrain: He touched me, O he touched me 2. Since I met this blessed Savior Neath a load of guilt and shame, And O the joy that floods my soul! Since he cleansed and made me whole Then the hand of Jesus touched me, Something happened, and now I know, I will never cease to praise him; And now I am no longer the same. He touched me and made me whole. I’ll shout it while eternity rolls. Benediction And now, may the peace of the Lord Christ go with you wherever God may send you; may God guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm; may God bring you home rejoicing at the wonders God has shown you; may God bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.
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Sunday, April 4th, 2021 || Easter Sunday Pastor Christy Wright Join us for our ecumenical Sunrise Easter Service outside at 6:15 AM on Sunday, April 4th at the First Congregational Church of West Brookfield. Masks and social distancing will be observed! If you are unable to join us in-person, we invite you to light a candle Easter morning and join us in prayer ONLINE or over the PHONE. Audio worship, including music, prayers, and the sermon is available at https://georgewhitefieldumc.weebly.com/worship-services Audio worship is also available at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. Unrecognizable - Pastor Christy Wright You know something that’s weird? Something that’s really been bugging me since the pandemic began? It’s so strange to not recognize someone who is wearing a mask. Even loved ones whom we’ve known for years look so incredibly different wearing a mask. And for some of us, we’ve waited months to have a haircut, or some have even taken matters into their own hands and gone for the kitchen shears - so we’re even more unrecognizable. Whether we bump into people in town or at the grocery store, it can often be a game of who’s who - and in many ways, it can be disorienting. But it can still be a blessing to see one another again, regardless. And we anxiously await the day when we can be in one another’s presence without masks, embracing one another again. We have been through so much this past year that we are still grieving, even on Easter morning, even as the sun begins to rise on a new day. But this morning’s Easter reading, from the very beginning, gives us permission to weep. It lets us mourn, even when we know we should be joyous. In this passage, Mary is asked several times, “Why are you weeping?” Can you imagine such an insensitive question? For three days, Mary had been holding onto so much grief. She had lost her Savior, her friend. She didn’t want to believe it to be true. And I wonder if this was Mary’s first visit to the tomb; maybe she sought closure, thinking that if she were just able to see it in person, she’d finally be able to believe that Jesus was dead and move on with her life. Imagine her shock and her sorrow when she saw that the tomb had been disturbed; she had been seeking peace, a way to grow from this new reality, and instead, she was prevented from receiving the closure she so desperately sought. But the story didn’t end there; as Mary looked into the tomb, she saw two angels, who again asked her why she was crying. She believed that Jesus’ body had been stolen, and all she wanted was to lay the body to rest, so that she, too, could rest within this new reality without him. And as she pleaded with the angels, she turned around to see a stranger in her midst, who she believed to be the gardener, and began pleading with him as well. And then he whispered, “Mary.” In an act of recognition, Mary leapt up and gasped, “Teacher!” She knew that Jesus had risen, in the very moment he spoke her name. Jesus wiped away all her tears in his appearance, except for those tears of gratitude in knowing that she was not alone. But here’s the thing: Jesus was unrecognizable to Mary in that moment. Mary only knew one thing: Jesus was dead. The faith story was over. This wasn’t supposed to happen. So the appearance of a resurrection would have been completely unrecognizable to Mary, an impossibility, a mirage of sorts. She wasn’t expecting this, not in the least. So it makes me wonder - is there resurrection in our midst, something that is completely unrecognizable to us? Where is God moving and working within our own lives? And how would we know? For many of us, this past year has felt like we’ve been sealed in the tomb of Good Friday and Holy Saturday, unable to see Easter on the other side. But I wonder, I just have to wonder: Maybe this isn’t a tomb. Maybe this is a womb - dark, mysterious, and scary for sure, yet filled with life. Familiar, but unrecognizable. Where we are in this moment resembles something we know, in essence, but in appearance it’s all different. We’re learning to discern the visible and invisible in our lives, and we’re beginning to understand the potential dwelling in reality, now, even if we’re only getting glimpses here and there. And it makes me wonder: does God do the best work in the dark? So let’s explore together - where is the unexpected, the unrecognizable in our lives? Maybe it’s a reconciled relationship. Or maybe it’s closure from a job or a particular season in life that is a blessing in disguise. Maybe we’ve lost loved ones this year, and we’ve grown closer to those who remain. Regardless, know that you are not alone. Know that God is doing incredible, life-giving, and transformative work in the darkness. And may we seek to recognize the resurrection in our midst, giving glory to God in the small signs of life that are popping up all around us. I’d like to close with a blessing from the poet John O’Donohue, entitled For the Unknown Self. So much of what delights and troubles us happens on a surface we take for ground. Our mind thinks our life alone, our eyes consider air our nearest neighbor, yet it seems that a little below our heart there houses in us an unknown self who prefers the patterns of the dark and is not persuaded by the eye’s affection or caught by the flash of thought. It is a self that enjoys contemplative patience with all our unfolding expression, is never drawn to break into light though we entangle ourselves in unworthiness and misjudge what we do and who we are. It presides within like an evening freedom that will often see us enchanted by twilight without ever recognizing the falling night, it resembles the under-earth of our visible life: All we do and say and think is fostered deep in its opaque and prevenient clay. It dwells in a strange, yet rhythmic ease that is not ruffled by disappointment; it presides in a deeper current of time free from the force of cause and sequence that otherwise shapes our lives. Were it to break forth into day, its dark light might quench our minds, for it knows how our primeval heart sisters every cell of our lives to all our known mind would avoid. Thus it knows to dwell in us gently, offering us only discrete glimpses of how we construct our lives. At times, it will lead us strangely, magnetized by some resonance that ambushes our vigilance. It works most resolutely at night as the poet who draws our dreams, creating for us many secret doors, decorated with pictures of our hunger. It has the dignity of the angelic that knows us to our roots, always awaiting our deeper befriending to make us beyond the thresholds of want, where all our diverse strainings can come to wholesome ease. Amen.
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Sunday, March 28, 2021 || 6th Sunday of Lent (Palm Sunday) Pastor Christy Wright We invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer ONLINE or over the PHONE Audio worship is also available at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. This Lenten Series is adapted from Marcia McFee’s Holy Vessels curriculum. Prelude O Worship the King Melissa Quilitzsch Announcements Palm Sunday Narrative When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, “Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.” Opening Hymn Hosanna, Loud Hosanna UMH 278 1. Hosanna, loud hosanna, the little children sang; 3. “Hosanna in the highest!” that ancient song we sing, Through pillared court and temple the lovely anthem rang. For Christ is our Redeemer, the Lord of heaven our King To Jesus, who had blessed them close folded to his breast, O may we ever praise him with heart and life and voice, The children sang their praises, the simplest and the best. And in his blissful presence eternally rejoice! 2. From Olivet they followed mid an exultant crowd, The victor palm branch waving, and chanting clear and loud. The Lord of earth and heaven rode on in lowly state, Nor scorned that little children should on his bidding wait. Introduction - Marcia McFee We have seen that the stories of Jesus’ healing ministry are filled with words and deeds. When he rode into Jerusalem, the people had hopes he would heal the oppressive system they were living under. We know that his healing was not confined to that moment in history, but offers a new way of life that has made a case for compassion for all, especially “the least,” ever since. As we head into the events of Holy Week, we begin to see that our ability to forgive ourselves and others is the foundation that can transform infirmities and allow us to move on. We integrate our beliefs and actions for the health of the whole. The parade of compassionate power we celebrate today is underscored by another healing story of transformation, symbolizing our ability to fuel our movement of recovery. We glorify God for beautiful words and works of wholeness and share that treasured beauty with others. We know there will still be pain, but we also know love will win. We have approached confession each week in Lent in such a way that we lay bare the brokenness in order to begin the process of healing. Along the way we have acknowledged our need to restore our own Holy Vessels while attending to our role in the healing of the community and the world. The work of healing will continue as we integrate all we have learned with all that we will do moving forward. For now, we remember how hard it is to move from thinking to doing. Let us pray: Forgiving God, We have opened ourselves to healing and sometimes it is easier to pray nice prayers than to do the hard work of putting into action what needs to happen. Help us remember the sacred nature of the holy vessels that we are, fragile and susceptible to shattering and yet capable of transformation. Help us to see ourselves as you see us. Help us to believe in our ability to change and heal as you believe in us. Help us, Healer. Show us our strength. Forgive our inertia. Move us to move one step at a time toward greater care. In this silence, we sense and acknowledge our yearning for wholeness. Know this: You are never alone in the struggle. No. Matter. What. Jesus is on the journey with us. Life’s parade is not passing you by. You are part of this Body of Christ, a community seeking healing. For you, for me, for all. Take a deep breath in to let this truth fill you…and breathe out with the relief of assurance. Vessels, holy and whole. Broken, needing the One. Open, body and soul. Healer, come. Scripture Reading - Matthew 9:1-8 And after getting into a boat Jesus crossed the sea and came to his own town. And just then some people were carrying a paralyzed man lying on a bed. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, “Take heart, son; your sins are forgiven.” Then some of the scribes said to themselves, “This man is blaspheming.” But Jesus, perceiving their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil in your hearts? For which is easier, to say, ‘Your sins are forgiven,’ or to say, ‘Stand up and walk’? But so that you may know that the Son of Man has authority on earth to forgive sins”—he then said to the paralytic—“Stand up, take your bed and go to your home.” And he stood up and went to his home. When the crowds saw it, they were filled with awe, and they glorified God, who had given such authority to human beings. Sermon - Pastor Christy Wright Have you ever been a part of a parade? I’m reminded of high school when I was part of the marching band. Every year we would play at our Memorial Day Parade as it winded through the fairgrounds, across two major roads, and down to the high school. It was always a lot of fun - but boy was it hard work! We’d be wearing heavy wool marching uniforms, carrying our instruments, and attempting to stay in time while playing memorized music with dozens of other musicians. But there were some exciting parts of the day too - we’d often get a bunch of free candy from other parade walkers, and there would usually be a simple BBQ lunch of hot dogs and hamburgers waiting for us at the high school when we returned. But my favorite part? Walking past my family and friends, who were cheering me on from the sidewalk. What a great memory, one filled with love and encouragement. This morning’s readings, both of the infamous Palm Sunday procession and of the healing story we just read, contain parades of their own. Jesus’ entrance to Jerusalem was widely celebrated, but so was the man who was healed. In our second reading, Jesus approached a man who was paralyzed, and encouraged him in the forgiveness of his sins - but Jesus was challenged by onlookers who believe Jesus was taking too much authority. Who was he to forgive sins? Jesus went a step further; rather than arguing with them, he looked after the paralyzed man’s physical health too - and he was now able to walk! This had become a parade of its own - one in which the paralyzed man got up, took his mat, and went home - surrounded by crowds of encouragement and awe-struck passersby. As we reflect over our journey this Lenten season, may we recognize the healing in our midst and the ways in which Jesus has been present with us from day one. May we seek healing that touches every part of our lives: our spiritual healing, our mental healing, the healing of our bodies, and the healing of our communities. And above all else, may we recognize from where the healing comes: from Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior in whose love and encouragement we walk each day. Hymn of Meditation Trust and Obey UMH 467 1. When we walk with the Lord in the light of God’s word, 3. But we never can prove the delights of God’s love What a glory God sheds on our way! Until all on the altar we lay; While we do God’s good will, God abides with us still, For the favor God shows, for the joy God bestows, And with all who will trust and obey. Are for them who will trust and obey. Refrain: Trust and obey, for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey. 2. Not a burden we bear, not a sorrow we share, 4. Then in fellowship sweet we will sit at God’s feet, But our toil God doth richly repay; Or we’ll walk by God’s side in the way; Not a grief or a loss, not a frown or a cross, What God says we will do, where God sends we will go; But is blest if we trust and obey. Never fear, only trust and obey. Prayer of Meditation - Marcia McFee Healer of our every ill, especially when we find it difficult to believe or trust that sorrow will end, we come before you to make our petitions known. Hear our cries for healing of body, mind, and spirit. We know that already you are at work among us, showing us the way to recovery from the toxicities and grief of our time. Even when we cannot seem to believe it, we know that you see beauty in our brokenness. We pray especially for those who feel there is no end to sorrow, that no matter what we do or how hard we work to bring peace and justice to our world, it feels like we cannot gain traction. We give thanks that when we cannot bring ourselves to the healing source of your love, there are others around us that, through words and actions, bring us hope once again. Help to also be those who offer hope when we have the opportunity on this parade of compassion called life. We pray this day for… Commissioning and Benediction - Marcia McFee In this series, we have seen that Jesus’ healing actions often get “buzz” from onlookers. This day we have seen two different reactions from the crowd: shouts of adoration and the scoff of judgment from religious officials. His words and actions seemed to get one or the other–praise or accusations of heresy. But he continued his work anyway. He loved those that were deemed unlovable. He proclaimed healing in the midst of despair. He urged people to give their best in the midst of the worst circumstances. To be followers of Jesus is not an easy task. But it is the way that we become whole once again… to participate in the holy endeavor of bringing the kin-dom on earth as it is in heaven. And as we enter Holy Week, these themes will come into sharp focus. May we follow him, even to the broken places. We have asked this question each week: How can we as a church community become a “health hub” through our ministry and mission? Let us discern together how we can meet the needs of those within our community. Now go with confidence that God is making us whole and holy, recovering our depth of love for all and our joy of living in this world. May the words of Jesus ring in your ears: “Take heart.” And may the Spirit hover, move, and deliver salve to your soul and a spring in your step. Amen. Postlude Journey’s End Melissa Quilitzsch
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Sunday, March 21, 2021 || 5th Sunday of Lent Pastor Christy Wright We invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer ONLINE or over the PHONE Audio worship is also available at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. This Lenten Series is adapted from Marcia McFee’s Holy Vessels curriculum. Prelude For the Beauty of the Earth Melissa Quilitzsch Announcements Opening Hymn Mountains Are All Aglow UMH 86 1. Mountains are all aglow with autumn colors so bright; 3. Early spring is the time to sow all God’s rich seeds of life. Rivers are filled with water, giving life to our days. Working hard, tilling God’s earth; making preparation. Golden fields wave their praise to God’s bountiful harvest; Looking forward to rewards of harvest so plentiful; Gratefully, skyward rising, hear our joyous songs of praise! Promised blessings will soon be ours in each revelation. Refrain: Reaching far as earthly eyes can see, reaching far as humble hands can toil, every harvest is from our Lord; every blessing is from our God. Praise for the harvest, thanks to our God. Praise for the harvest, give praise to God. 2. Every land so abundantly rich the harvest bears; 4. Praise the Lord as we’re planting God’s word deep in each heart Every orchard is filled with luscious, ripened new fruit. God has sent sunshine and the rain so the seedlings may grow Sun and rain by the Lord’s design shall come at proper time. Desert lands which seem barren, flowers still might bloom Working hard, God has given us reasons for deep gratitude. Trusting in God’s promises, our thanks to God we will show Introduction - Marcia McFee We continue our Lenten “season of recovery” as we focus on health as essential to our spiritual lives. The demands of following Jesus are great. He shows us that sometimes we must make extraordinary efforts to move in a new direction. As we consider the health of humanity, we cannot ignore the need to heal the very planet that sustains us. We live in increasing chaos of a beleaguered environment and the hoarding of resources. We want to be “saved” by something or someone else, but we discover this week that we are in the boat with the One who shows us our power to turn it around, to calm the storm. We protect the jewel that is our home, restoring something beautiful from scars of the past. Let us acknowledge our need to restore, repair, renew our Holy Vessels, especially this holy container of life on which we live–this very planet. Let us pray: Life-giving God, in the beginning, you created this universe with a phrase, “Let it be…” and the waters and dry land, the sky and the creatures were formed. You set humanity among these wonders and invited us to care and honor all things. We have not successfully answered that call. Seeing the abundance as a feast that would never end, we gorged ourselves, taking more than we could replenish at a rate that could not be sustained. We are beginning to comprehend the magnitude, beginning to see that things cannot just keep going “as usual” and not have dire consequences. We are frightened, which is partly why we are slow to accept it. But we now are witnesses to the forces of a world more broken than when we inherited it: water, wind, and wave, fire, drought, and earthquake that signal it is time to pay attention and to make real change. Too often we think there is nothing we can do–that the change required is too great. It all feels overwhelming and so we look away, sometimes even from the small things that could make a difference for our own community. Help us, Healer. Show us our ability to chart a different course. Forgive our inaction. Move us to move one step at a time toward greater care for one another. In this silence, we sense and acknowledge our yearning for wholeness. Know this: Jesus asks us to do hard things, to make changes, knowing we are capable. No. Matter. What. We can change in order to heal this jewel planet called home. The calm of Christ in the storm is available. For you, for me, for all. Take a deep breath in to let this truth fill you…and breathe out with the relief of assurance. Vessels, holy and whole. Broken, needing the One. Open, body and soul. Healer, come. Scripture Reading - Matthew 8:23-27 And when Jesus got into the boat, his disciples followed him. A windstorm arose on the sea, so great that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. And they went and woke him up, saying, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” And he said to them, “Why are you afraid, you of little faith?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a dead calm. They were amazed, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?” Sermon - Pastor Christy Wright The first time I realized that all of creation was intertwined, that our stories inherently intersected with creation as a whole, was when I was in middle school, on a small motor-powered skiff in the Poquonnock River in Connecticut. I was attending the first of many sessions of “ocean camp,” where I learned about marine science with an organization connected to the University of Connecticut. As we slowly powered our way into the different basins of the river, our instructor pointed off into the distance toward some houses built right along the shoreline. The water near the private docks was bright green, filled with algae, and it appeared to be teeming with life. But she told us a different story: overuse of lawn fertilizers made green lawns even more green, but the chemicals ran off into the water during rainstorms. When fertilizers end up in the water column, it invigorates the growth of algae - which is good at first: it provides food for fish and other organisms. But it can quickly turn into a disaster: this growth of algae can rapidly turn into a dangerous and deadly situation for the ecosystem. As the algae continues to bloom, it crowds out light that other plants need, and it uses up the oxygen that fish require. A healthy estuary can quickly become a hypoxic environment, one devoid of oxygen and necessary diverse nutrients to sustain life. All because of some lawn fertilizer. As we reflect on our role here on earth, it can be easy to read back to Genesis and see that we are called to have “dominion over” the world. But as we refer back to the original language of Hebrew, we recognize that “dominion over” doesn’t translate well into English. The original language actually defines humanity’s relationship to the earth as a “partnership,” that humanity is called to “steward” the earth, to take care of it and all that is within it. How does this change the way we’ve thought about our own agency in creating a better world? In this morning’s scripture passage, Jesus got into a boat with his disciples, and they began a trek over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee. Suddenly a great storm arose, and the disciples were afraid; all the while, Jesus was asleep. The men on the boat panicked, and quickly woke Jesus, who responded by noting their lack of faith, then calming the storm himself. The disciples were struck by Jesus’ power and marveled at the miracle before them. What I find interesting about this passage is that Jesus not only rebuked the storm, but in some ways, it felt like he also rebuked the disciples. Rather than taking care of the storm first, Jesus turned to the disciples - as though waiting for them to do something about the wind and the waves. Several times throughout Jesus’ ministry, we see Jesus putting the ball back in the court of those asking for help: last week we heard about the woman who reached out in faith - and Jesus said that it was her faith that had made her well. And when there was no more wine at the wedding at Cana? Jesus empowered the disciples to turn water to wine - he himself never touched anything. It was all the disciples’ doing. In each of these cases, Jesus highlighted humanity’s agency to make things right - to partner with God in righting a wrong, in healing, and in reconciliation. It’s as if Jesus is saying, “I believe in you; believe in yourself.” And the good news is that even when we fail (which we will, because we’re human), Jesus doesn’t leave us on our own to pick up the pieces. Just as Jesus was already in the boat, and he stepped in and calmed the storm, we, too, are not alone in our own storms. If we listen closely, we will hear the Spirit’s guidance and Jesus’ encouragement to take action. We have a role to play as we partner with God in restoring what has been lost. And when we take action, we recognize that our actions do in fact affect others. It’s not just about us; it is about all of creation, for we are all intertwined. As we continue on our path in healing this Lenten season, how is God calling you to take agency in your own life as it relates to creation as a whole? In what ways are you being led to take next steps in your personal healing and in our communal healing? I invite you to reflect prayerfully with God on the actions you can take today, and this week, toward this restoration. It may be using less fertilizer on our lawn (maybe?), or it might be something like reaching out to someone who needs to hear from you. It might be something as small as dropping a card in the mail, or something as big as donating toward a particular organization to support their work in personal and communal healing. As we prayerfully consider the work before us, may we recognize the energy Jesus has given us and the faith Jesus has in us to do good work in his name. May we recognize the stories that intersect with our own as we work to create a better world. And may we always be listening to the still small voice that says, “I believe in you; believe in yourself.” Amen. Hymn of Meditation Wounded World that Cries for Healing FWS 2177 1. Wounded world that 2. Through our nation’s 3. Honor those whose cries for healing - Spent frustration Loving spirit Here we hold each other’s pain, Through the corridors of stress Nurses hope, restores and heals, Wounded systems, May there move a Towel and basin Bruised and bleeding Kindlier wisdom Used in service Bear the load, the scars of strain; All may feel, and all may bless; Like the Christ who comes and kneels; Dollars ration out compassion, Tax and tithe are for a purpose In the tending, in the mending Hard decisions rule the day, Shared to shield the poor and weak; May we see the right and fair, Jesus of the healing Spirit, Past the symptoms of our sickness In our common quest for wholeness Free us to another way! Let the voice of justice speak. Heal each other by our care. Prayer of Meditation - Marcia McFee Healer of our every ill, especially our fractured creation, we come before you to make our petitions known. Hear our cries for healing of body, mind, and spirit. We know that already you are at work among us, showing us the way to recovery from the toxicities and grief of our time. You remind us that you are in the boat with us in the midst of difficult times. We give you thanks for this path of following you, even when you call us to crossover from one way of life to another. We pray especially for all who are impacted most by dwindling resources. We pray that we will continue to learn and see and know how our actions affect others, not just ourselves. We give thanks for the wake up calls that our young people are sounding and we pray for the fortitude to move this journey forward alongside them. We give thanks for the courage of activists and educators who help us wake up to this storm and to see that we have it within our power to calm that storm, to restore the earth’s wholeness. We ask for courage and encouragement to re-evaluate how we as a church can join this effort now and into the future. We pray this day for… Commissioning and Benediction - Marcia McFee This week the reaction of the crowd in the story is amazement at Jesus’ connection to the cosmic forces of wind and wave. As scientists now try to teach us, all things are connected. We are part and parcel of all creation. Rather than dominion, we are to be a-tuned to all around us. We see the cry of creation in awakened natural disasters and we must heed the call not to hide in fear, but to work for healing. And so in our communal discerning about how this church community could become a “health hub” through our ministry and mission, let us put our minds to imagining how we can learn about contributing to the beauty and healing of our environment. I invite you to explore with us the possibilities for a new or renewed commitment to a contribution we can make at George Whitefield United Methodist Church to our larger community’s effort to recover from this past year. Now go with confidence that we can face the storm with Jesus in the boat, recovering our depth of love for all and our joy of living in this world. May the words of Jesus ring in your ears: “follow me.” And may the Spirit hover, move, and deliver salve to your soul and a spring in your step. Amen. Postlude He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands Melissa Quilitzsch
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Sunday, March 14, 2021 || 4th Sunday of Lent Pastor Christy Wright We invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer ONLINE or over the PHONE Audio worship is also available at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. This Lenten Series is adapted from Marcia McFee’s Holy Vessels curriculum Prelude Amazing Grace Melissa Quilitzsch Announcements Opening Hymn Be Thou My Vision UMH 451 1. Be thou my vision, 2. Be thou my wisdom, 3. Great God of heaven, O Lord of my heart; And thou my true word; My victory won, Naught be all else to me, I ever with thee, May I reach heaven’s joys Save that thou art. And thou with me, Lord; O bright heaven’s Sun! Thou my best thought Thou and thou only, Heart of my own heart, By day or by night First in my heart, Whatever befall, Waking or sleeping, Great God of heaven, Still be my vision, Thy presence my light. My treasure thou art. O Ruler of all. Introduction - Marcia McFee We continue our Lenten “season of recovery” as we focus on health as essential to our spiritual lives. Prolonged times of difficulty can impede our ability to stay creative. The picture of our lives is dulled and hope for a brighter future can fade. We need a touch of inspiration to awaken us from our sleep, as we hear in one of this week’s healing stories. We also awaken to our agency to seek out the Divine Healer, reaching out to touch the power we know can restore our intellect and imagination. We emerge ready to re-engage with the world, seeking and seeing solutions, creating different pictures of life renewed just as a mosaic artist creates beauty from broken pieces of glass. Let us acknowledge our need to restore, repair, renew our Holy Vessels so that we might be able to create and imagine new possibilities, new solutions. Let us pray: God of All Possibilities, made in your image, you have tasked us as co-creators of a better world. You bestowed imagination and the ability to learn and progress. But we are tired. Our energy wanes and enthusiasm wanes. The call for ideas, solutions, work-arounds, and adaptations has been non-stop for us all–whether we are needing to find ways to keep children engaged and well, or figuring out how to maintain a passion for our work in the midst of trying times, or needing desperately to undo systems of oppression too long affecting our lives and the lives of our neighbors. Not only our livelihoods, but our liveliness is at stake. Too often we want to give up, declare it all too hard and simply isolate, waiting out the time for better days. It all feels overwhelming and so we look away, sometimes even from the need in our own community. Help us, Healer. Show us our energy reserves. Forgive our cynicism. Move us to move one step at a time toward greater care for one another. In this silence, we sense and acknowledge our yearning for wholeness. Know this: We are gifted with agency to affect healing in the world. No. Matter. What. We are not alone and we can join with others to magnify hope. Christ will answer when we call, when we reach out for what we know can help. For you, for me, for all. Take a deep breath in to let this truth fill you… and breathe out with the relief of assurance. Vessels, holy and whole. Broken, needing the One. Open, body and soul. Healer, come. Scripture Reading - Matthew 9:18-26 While Jesus was saying these things to them, suddenly a leader of the synagogue came in and knelt before him, saying, “My daughter has just died; but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” And Jesus got up and followed him, with his disciples. Then suddenly a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak, for she said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well.” Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And instantly the woman was made well. When Jesus came to the leader’s house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, he said, “Go away; for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl got up. And the report of this spread throughout that district. Sermon - Pastor Christy Wright Several years ago, I attended my first workshop at the United Nations Church Center in New York City, a seminar about climate change and how we could make a difference on individual and communal levels. As we were given a tour of the building at the beginning of the day, I couldn’t help but be in awe of all of the work being done there: this particular property is owned by the United Methodist Women Foundation, and it houses dozens of nonprofits and non-governmental agencies that are seeking to build a better world. It is truly a mosaic of faith-filled people from all over the globe doing the work of God. As we look across history, we witness wars, famine, and, in our time, pandemics; this reality can be so gut-wrenching and painful, and it can be easy to fall into hopelessness. But we are called to respond in a way that reflects Jesus’ hope, healing, and resurrection: a response of collecting the broken pieces of life and partnering with God to reassemble them, to transform reality into something life-giving and beautiful. This is a true act of healing, healing that we are all empowered to participate in through the power of the Holy Spirit and Jesus’ guiding hands. In this morning’s passage, we hear of the stories of a synagogue leader whose daughter had just died and a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. The religious leader ran up to Jesus in a panic - his daughter had just died, but he knew that Jesus would heal her. As Jesus was on his way to visit the girl, a woman with a chronic illness reached out her hand and touched his robes, knowing that she would be healed from just a touch - and she was. Jesus continued on to meet with the girl, took her hand, and she was made well again. From a historical perspective, much of this passage deals with purity and Jesus’ response to it. In this time and place, women who suffered from hemorrhages, like this woman, were declared unclean and defiled. They were cast out from their communities and sent to live in solitude or with other women who were suffering the same fate. This woman, who had been suffering for twelve years, would have had to leave her family, her loved ones. And the girl? She was presumed dead, and dead bodies were also declared unclean. But notice what happened with Jesus in this passage: Jesus was touched by the woman, which by law, would have made him unclean. There were ceremonial rites he would have had to go through in order to be declared clean again. But he went straight to the young girl - who was dead - and took her by the hand - becoming defiled himself, again. Jesus seemingly ignored all of the protocols surrounding purity here, but he did it to make a point: purity and impurity are not the focus; healing is. All of this made me wonder: what if these stories were intertwined? What if these relationships were actually closer than we realized? What if the girl in this story was actually the bleeding woman’s daughter? Perhaps twelve years ago, this woman was cast out by the leader of the synagogue. Maybe instead of two healings - the healing of the woman and of the daughter - what if there were actually three? I’m thinking that a relational healing took place here as well, one in which a family was reunited through Jesus’ touch. When read through this lens, the broken pieces of this situation - the hopelessness, the fear, the isolation - were all healed in this moment, becoming a sacred mosaic through Jesus’ touch. As a church, we’ve been living through a pandemic for exactly one full year. Our last gathering together in the building for “normal church” was on March 8th, 2020. And it’s felt like it’s been a decade, hasn’t it? We have had to endure so much as a church family, and now we are beginning to see newness springing about. This past year, our lives have intertwined through phone calls and letters, through prayer chains and newly imagined worship services. The mosaic of our community, the many facets of who we are and the saints who have gone before us, are continually reinforced and recreated each and every day. Grace has touched our lives even before we’ve reached out to Jesus, and Jesus has taken our hand. Thanks be to God that as we continue to collect the broken pieces of life, we are invited to partner with God to reassemble them, to transform reality into something life-giving and beautiful. May we recognize Jesus’ healing power in our brokenness and in our wholeness. May we be empowered to heal as Jesus heals, trusting in faith and grace that God’s great love will fill in the cracks. And may we always remember the Love that will not let us go, always bound in our sacred mosaic through the power of the Holy Spirit, in the healing touch of Jesus, and with God’s never ending presence. Amen. Hymn of Meditation O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go UMH 480 1. O Love that wilt not let me go, 3. O Joy that seekest me through pain, I rest my weary soul in thee; I cannot close my heart to thee; I give thee back the life I owe, I trace the rainbow through the rain, That in thine ocean depths And feel the promise is not vain, Its flow may richer, fuller be. That morn shall tearless be. 2. O Light that followest all my way, 4. O Cross that liftest up my head, I yield my flickering torch to thee; I dare not ask to fly from thee; My heart restores its borrowed ray, I lay in dust life’s glory dead, That in thy sunshine’s blaze And from the ground there Its day may brighter, fairer be. Blossoms red life that shall endless be. Prayer of Meditation - Marcia McFee Healer of our every ill, especially our malady of exhausted spirits, we come before you to make our petitions known. Hear our cries for healing of body, mind, and spirit. We know that already you are at work among us, showing us the way to recovery from the toxicities and grief of our time. You remind us that we do not have to shoulder everything alone. We give you thanks that all we must do is orient ourselves toward your divine spirit to accompany us, touch us, inspire us, heal us. People who were healed by Jesus were not afraid to ask. And so we come before the Holy One, making our petitions and desires known, trusting the work of the Spirit. We pray especially for all who feel opportunity and possibility is cut off to them. Whose spirit is continually dampened and damaged by those who fail to see value in their contributions, who steal away rights to the fullness of expression. We give thanks for communities, churches, non-profits, and businesses that are supporting the flourishing of all voices, especially voices that have been silenced. We give thanks for the courage of innovators who use their resources and creativity to make more good in the world, making this a priority over profit. We ask for courage and encouragement to re-evaluate how we as a church can join this effort now and into the future. We pray this day for… Commissioning and Benediction - Marcia McFee Each week we look at the reaction of the crowd in the healing story. This week there is an interesting reaction at Jesus’ notion that the girl was not dead. They laughed. Full-blown funeral rites had begun, flutes and all. And yet Jesus said, this is not the end of this story. The idea that we could come back to life better than before, that we could find some way to bring life back to what feels dead, may seem preposterous to some at this point. Laughable. But, like Jesus, we need not be deterred. Can we forge ahead, enter the “house” of sorrow and dare to proclaim that can still exist? And so in our communal discerning about how this church community could become a “health hub” through our ministry and mission, let us put our minds to imagining how we can learn about innovative ways that are being created to revive our communities. Who are the bright spots of life among us, among our civic, political, neighborhood organizing leaders that are working passionately to alleviate the devastating effects of the pandemics that have raged among us? I invite you to explore with us the possibilities for a new or renewed commitment to a contribution we can make at George Whitefield United Methodist Church to our larger community’s effort to recover from this past year. Now go with confidence that we will awaken, we will seek out and reach for the healing solutions that our neighbors, our communities, our world needs, recovering our depth of love for all and our joy of living in this world. May the words of Jesus ring in your ears: “You are not dead, you are sleeping.” And may the Spirit hover, move, and deliver salve to your soul and a spring in your step. Amen. Postlude Sky’s the Limit Melissa Quilitzsch
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Sunday, March 7, 2021 || 3rd Sunday of Lent Pastor Christy Wright We invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer ONLINE or over the PHONE Audio worship is also available at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. This Lenten Series is adapted from Marcia McFee’s Holy Vessels curriculum. Prelude Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken/Mendelssohn's Consolation Op. 30, No. 3 Melissa Quilitzsch Announcements Opening Hymn Be Still, My Soul UMH 534 1. Be still, my soul: the Lord is on your side. 3. Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain; When we shall be forever with the Lord, Leave to your God to order and provide; When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone, In every change God faithful will remain. Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored. Be still, my soul: you best, your heavenly friend Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past, Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end. All safe and blessed we shall meet at last. 2. Be still, my soul: your God will undertake To guide the future, as in ages past. Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake; All now mysterious shall be bright at last. Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know The Christ who ruled them while he dwelt below. Introduction - Marcia McFee Those who collect beach glass often become “archeologists”–seeking out any markings or clues as to the story of the original piece. It often takes much time to bring out the truth behind it. This week we acknowledge the power of truth-telling as a healing property. There are stories that have shaped our lives, leaving us without the ability to see who we truly are in the eyes of God and leaving us without the ability to speak the depth of our stories of struggle. We focus on the importance of recovery of mental health, reclaiming our sense of who we are and being able to proclaim new redemptive stories of divine worth. Let us acknowledge our need to restore, repair, and renew our Holy Vessels, and that the health of our minds deeply affects our physical and spiritual health. Let us pray: Centering and Calming Divine Breath of God, You gifted us with amazing minds, capable of so many things. You gave us the ability to think and feel, imbuing us with discernment of thought and emotion. Like our physical bodies, sometimes this aspect of ourselves is beleaguered. We struggle under the strain of disappointment, despair, and delusion. Too often we hide this, afraid of what others might think of our difficulties in managing or moving forward, even in the face of devastating circumstances. Too often we perpetuate the stigma of a less-than-perfect state of mind by shaming ourselves and others. Millennia of misunderstanding compounds our fear. We label and belittle, all the while turning the hatred upon ourselves, for no one is immune from troubles of the mind at some point. People opened their lives to Jesus. We are drawn to the Healer–opening our hearts with honesty about our lives and finding assurance that offers peace. So many are suffering now, God, weary and distraught, grieving and at the end of their rope. We cannot fathom the proportions of loss and so we look away, sometimes even from the need in our own community. Help us, Healer. Show us our capacity for compassion. Forgive our inattention. Move us to move one step at a time toward greater care for one another. In this silence, we sense and acknowledge our yearning for wholeness. Know this: You are accepted. No. Matter. What. Accepting the truth of our difficulties is part of the journey of recovery. Sharing our stories of difficulty can open the way for healing. For you, for me, for all. Take a deep breath in to let this truth fill you… and breathe out with the relief of assurance. Vessels, holy and whole. Broken, needing the One. Open, body and soul. Healer, come. Scripture Reading - Matthew 9:27-33 As Jesus went on from there, two blind men followed him, crying loudly, “Have mercy on us, Son of David!” When he entered the house, the blind men came to him; and Jesus said to them, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?” They said to him, “Yes, Lord.” Then he touched their eyes and said, “According to your faith let it be done to you.” And their eyes were opened. Then Jesus sternly ordered them, “See that no one knows of this.” But they went away and spread the news about him throughout that district. After they had gone away, a demoniac who was mute was brought to him. And when the demon had been cast out, the one who had been mute spoke; and the crowds were amazed and said, “Never has anything like this been seen in Israel.” Sermon - Pastor Christy Wright When I was in college, I got my first true sense of what I’m calling “toxic empathy.” For those who know me well, they know that I have an empathetic presence, but most don’t know how much of a struggle that can be sometimes. In college, I lived and went to school with friends and colleagues who were all dealing with a lot, too much for any one friend to be able to solve or make better, regardless of how hard I tried. And as an empathetic person, I always struggled with how to best be present for them. If someone was crying, my response would always be tears. If someone was angry, I would be right there with them. But to mirror someone’s emotions, and to carry them as though they were my own - is that really the healthiest thing to do? It got to a point where I wasn’t sure which emotions belonged to me, and which didn’t. My own empathy had become toxic. When explaining this to one of my chaplains, he was very supportive and said that this was a good thing; it showed that I cared a lot about my friends and, in fact, all those I encountered. But he also suggested that there might be better ways to show up for people who needed help, and better ways to care for my own mental and emotional health, so he gave me the contact information for our on-campus counselor. Though at first apprehensive, I agreed to make an appointment. And, to be honest, it didn’t go well. When I explained the situation, the therapist seemed dismissive - if I wasn’t in crisis, why was I there? Eventually I just dropped it and instead tried to create better boundaries. It wasn’t until seminary when I tried counseling again, and the difference was like night and day. Counseling isn’t just something we should tap into when we’re in crisis mode - though it can be extremely helpful then too. No, counseling can be something so life-giving, regardless of our current circumstances. You see, it was here where I found absolute freedom - freedom to be able to explore my emotions with someone I trusted. It helped me to get a better handle on my identity as an empath and how to best use my gifts for myself and for others. And again, during the throes of the pandemic, I sought out counseling to create a toolbox of techniques for how best to care for myself and others, because y’all, sometimes we just need a little extra help. In this morning’s scripture reading, we hear of a story of two blind men who followed Jesus and begged for his healing. It can be assumed that these men had been blind from birth; they had never known anything different from their current experience. But there was something so compelling about Jesus, something so mysterious, that somehow they knew where Jesus was, and who he was. They had the faith to believe that Jesus would heal them, but I can guarantee you that these blind men didn’t get to Jesus all by themselves. It’s interesting that there was a mute man in their midst too. I wonder, had it been him who led the blind men to Jesus? In their faith, these blind men followed Jesus into the house (or were led by the mute man), and by their faith, they were healed. Their eyes were opened. And everything was new. Everything was different, and they rejoiced and told all who would listen about Jesus’ great healing power. Several years ago, my eyes were opened to the importance of normalizing conversations about mental health. For some reason, we want to hide behind our emotions and pretend everything is okay. One of my good friends, who is a pastor, said this a few months ago: “With God, it’s always okay to not be okay.” With God, we can find healing. But sometimes God also presents other people in our lives to help us along the way, like counselors and therapists - and like the mute man who helped the two blind men get to Jesus. God wants the best for us; but sometimes that requires a leap of faith, allowing ourselves to get the help we need toward healing and wholeness. We are not meant to journey alone. Praise be to God that we don’t have to. As we close this morning, I want you to know that I am present for you in whatever ways I can be. I am not a licensed therapist or counselor, but I can pray with and for you, and I can be a listening ear. If you would like information about counseling or therapy in our area, I’m more than happy to pass along some resources. It has been a long year. A difficult year. But we are not alone, and we know healing is right around the corner. My hope and prayer is that we find the freedom for which we’ve been searching, as we close with this blessing from John O’Donohue: As a bird soars high in the free holding of the wind, clear of the certainty of ground, opening the imagination of wings into the grace of emptiness to fulfill new voyagings, may your life awaken to the call of its freedom. As the ocean absolves itself of the expectation of land, approaching only in the form of waves that fill and pleat and fall with such gradual elegance as to make of the limit a sonorous threshold whose music echoes back along the give and strain of memory, thus may your heart know the patience that can draw infinity from limitation. As the embrace of the earth welcomes all we call death, taking deep into itself the tight solitude of a seed, allowing it time to shed the grip of former form and give way to a deeper generosity that will one day send it forth, a tree into springtime, may all that holds you fall from its hungry ledge into the fecund surge of your heart. Amen. Hymn of Meditation It is Well With My Soul UMH 377 1. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, 3. My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! When sorrows like sea billows roll; My sin, not in part but the whole, Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, It is well, it is well with my soul. Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! Refrain: It is well with my soul; it is well, it is well with my soul. 2. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, 4. And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight Let this blest assurance control, The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, And hath shed his own blood for my soul. Even so , it is well with my soul. Prayer of Meditation - Marcia McFee Healer of our every ill, especially our malady of stigmatized fear of mental illness, we come before you to make our petitions known. Hear our cries for healing of body, mind, and spirit. We know that already you are at work among us, showing us the way to recovery from the toxicities and grief of our time. You have stamped each one of us as “worthy.” We give you thanks that your mercy is wide and your faithfulness to us not depend upon having our feelings sorted out or our sense of well-being secure. You are not waiting for us to “get our act together” before offering us your love and grace. We pray especially for those who have experienced heightened and acute mental and emotional difficulties as a result of this past year of isolation and fear. We pray for those who feel far from hope and we mourn those who could not find a lifeline to survive this hardship. We pray for those who find themselves without access to adequate care, someone to talk to, or appropriate resources to steady their hearts and minds. We give thanks for those who are telling their stories, showing us how to open our hearts to help others and offering ripples of healing in the community. We pray grateful thanks for progress toward holistic healthcare and the efforts of all who are working to de-stigmatize mental illness, making it easier to ask for, and get, the help so desperately needed. We ask for courage and encouragement to re-evaluate how we as a church can help now and into the future. We pray this day for... Commissioning and Benediction - Marcia McFee Each week we look at the reaction of the crowd in the healing story. This week the crowd was amazed and cried out that nothing like it had ever been seen before. How interesting that the crowd is “seeing” something for the first time, just like the blind man is brought to sight! Could it be that this is as important to the story as the ones who received physical healing? How could we open our eyes, figuratively, in new ways? What do we need to envision anew? And so in our communal discerning about how this church community could become a “health hub” through our ministry and mission, let us put our minds to imagining how we could shine a positive light on the work of mental health. The needs are so urgent, especially now. Throughout this time, I invite you to explore with us the possibilities for a new or renewed commitment to a contribution we can make at George Whitefield United Methodist Church to our larger community’s effort to recover from this past year. Now go with confidence that the One Who Is Living Water is already cleansing, renewing, and clarifying our lives, recovering our depth of love for all and our joy of living in this world. May the words of Jesus ring in your ears: “Do you believe it is possible?” And may the Spirit hover, move, and deliver salve to your soul and a spring in your step. Amen. Postlude Dreamweaver Melissa Quilitzsch
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Sunday, February 28, 2021 || 2nd Sunday of Lent Pastor Christy Wright We invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer ONLINE or over the PHONE Audio worship is also available at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. This Lenten Series is adapted from Marcia McFee’s Holy Vessels curriculum. Prelude Savior, Like a Shepherd Lead Us/He Leadeth Me Melissa Quilitzsch Announcements Opening Hymn For the Healing of the Nations UMH 428 1. For the healing of the nations, 3. All that kills abundant living, Lord, we pray with one accord; Let it from the earth be banned; For a just and equal sharing Pride of status, race, and schooling, Of the things that earth affords; Dogmas that obscure your plan. To a life of love in action In our common quest for justice, Help us rise and pledge our word, May we hallow life’s brief span, Help us rise and pledge our word. May we hallow life’s brief span. 2. Lead us forward into freedom; 4. You, Creator God, have written From despair your world release, Your great name on humankind; That, redeemed from war and hatred, For our growing in your likeness All may come and go in peace. Bring the life of Christ to mind, Show us through care and goodness That by our response and service Fear will die and hope increase, Earth its destiny may find, Fear will die and hope increase. Earth its destiny may find. Introduction - Marcia McFee God gathers us as a Beachcomber gathers and marvels at every precious surviving piece of beach glass God finds. We are never alone, we are never lost to the One who seeks humanity’s wholeness. We affirm our commitment to be the Body of Christ that knows we cannot be personally healed until we see the interconnected community as part of the process of healing. Jesus has the power to re-vision the family of God in which false boundaries are overcome. In a year of devastating loss of livelihood, we consider the economic health that reimagines status quo. Let us acknowledge our need to restore, repair, renew our Holy Vessels, which include the communities of which we are a part. Let us pray: God of All, You created us for each other. You set in us a yearning for companionship and an empathy that binds us together, protecting each other and delighting in one another. Yet too often we have broken down our relationships instead of building them up. We have been set against one another with the lie of scarcity. We have built systems and economies that widen the gap of resources rather than safeguarding equitable practices. Too many, and growing numbers, are suffering hardship, food insecurity, joblessness. We cannot fathom the proportions of loss and so we look away, sometimes even from the need in our own community. Help us, Healer. Show us our empathy. Forgive our complacence. Move us to move one step at a time toward greater care for one another. In this silence, we sense and acknowledge our yearning for wholeness. Know this: This love and security is meant for all people. No. Matter. What. We are capable of sharing our light and not running out of “enough.” Christ’s hospitality that broke through false boundaries points the way. For you, for me, for all. Take a deep breath in to let this truth fill you…and breathe out with the relief of assurance. Vessels, holy and whole. Broken, needing the One. Open, body and soul. Healer, come. Scripture Reading - Matthew 8:5-13 When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, appealing to him and saying, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, in terrible distress.” And Jesus said to him, “I will come and cure him.” The centurion answered, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only speak the word, and my servant will be healed. For I also am a man under authority, with soldiers under me; and I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes, and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes, and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and the slave does it.” When Jesus heard him, he was amazed and said to those who followed him, “Truly I tell you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith. I tell you, many will come from east and west and will eat with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the heirs of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” And to the centurion Jesus said, “Go; let it be done for you according to your faith.” And the servant was healed in that hour. Sermon - Pastor Christy Wright During my senior year of high school, my grandmother on my mom’s side became very sick. She had had several “mini” strokes and potentially heart attacks over the course of many months, but at some point in October of that year, she had a massive stroke, and the prognosis didn’t look promising. She lived in Virginia with the majority of my extended family, while our smaller nuclear family of my parents and brother were living in Connecticut. My parents asked my brother and I if we would like to go down to Virginia, as this would probably be the last time we’d see Grandma. I was too scared, and too emotional, so I decided I’d stay home. Our family friends just down the road hosted me for the week, so that I wouldn’t be alone, and I recall one night not being able to sleep. I remember sitting up in bed and praying in their guestroom: “God, heal Grandma. Please, if you heal her, if you make her better, I promise I’ll do better in school. I promise I’ll pay attention in church. I promise I’ll be more grateful for what I have. I promise I’ll be a better person. Please God, I’ll do anything.” The next day, I got word that she had passed away. Over the next several months, I recall dreaming of Grandma frequently, and the most striking detail was just how beautiful she was. Her skin was glowing, and even her wrinkles, as I remembered her, disappeared into the light. And all she did was smile at me, beaming and proud. In her own way, she was healed. She was free as she had never been before. This was my first encounter of many when I realized that God does answer our prayers, but sometimes in ways we could never imagine, and sometimes not without pain. I realized that as much as we try to bargain with God, as bold as we are with our assumptions and grand questions, as much as we admit our faults and promise to do better, God answers prayers not based on our effort, but rather through grace. In this morning’s scripture passage, we hear of a Roman soldier who pleads for the healing of his servant, which can also be translated to “companion.” This dear loved one of the soldier is paralyzed and in terrible distress. The soldier knows that Jesus can heal the companion, and asks boldly, assuming Jesus’ immediate agreement. And Jesus does agree, immediately! But then the soldier opens up his life to Jesus in honesty and vulnerability. He begins listing all of the reasons why he doesn’t deserve the healing; you see, Roman soldiers stood in direct opposition of Jesus’ ministry because it was a political threat to the powers that be. For centuries, the name Son of God was actually used to refer to the emperor, and when Jesus began taking on that same name, it threw the empire off-kilter, and Jesus quickly became an enemy of the state. And yet, here’s this Roman soldier, faithfully believing that Jesus not only has the ability to heal his companion, but in fact will heal the situation. All barriers are broken down, and labels fall away; Jesus will heal out of grace, rather than out of effort. Ultimately, this is a story about having the confidence to know that Jesus will heal, no matter what form it will take; because I believe that God healed not only the companion, but also the soldier, whose life was forever changed by his encounter with Jesus. You see, God is in the business of healing, of reconciliation, of renewal. But sometimes we won’t recognize it for what it is until we step back. As we reflect on this past year, we have prayed desperately for healing in so many ways. I remember when Covid-19 was first brought up as a prayer request in church in late January or early February last year. I remember every single phone call hearing the words that our loved ones are in the hospital, or entering into hospice care. I remember praying over the phone and through letters and in our summer outdoor gatherings for God’s healing. I remember the tearful phone calls that brought news of loved ones’ passings. We have lost so many. We have suffered greatly. And we must grieve. But as time passes, I wonder if something else is going on under the surface. I wonder if God did answer our prayers, but healing came in a different way: a way based in grace above all else. As we mourn, may we recognize the beauty that is before us, even in the midst of pain. May we notice the way light fills the cracks of grief, knowing that healing is happening, even if we can’t see it. And may we be free as we have never been before, through Jesus Christ our ultimate Healer and our Peace beyond understanding. Amen. Hymn of Meditation The Voice of God is Calling UMH 436 1. The voice of God is calling its summons in our day; 3. We heed, O Lord, your summons, & answer: Here are we! Isaiah heard in Zion, and we now hear God say: Send us upon your errand, let us your servants be. “Whom shall I send to succor my people in their need? Our strength is dust and ashes, our years a passing hour; Whom shall I send to loosen the bonds of shame & greed?” But you can use our weakness to magnify your power. 2. “I hear my people crying in slum and mine and mill; 4. From ease and plenty save us; from pride of place absolve; No field or mart is silent, no city street is still. Purge us of low desire; lift us to high resolve; I see my people falling in darkness and despair. Take us, and make us holy; teach us your will and way. Whom shall I send to shatter the fetters which they bear?” Speak, and behold! We answer; command, and we obey! Prayer of Meditation - Marcia McFee Healer of our every ill, especially our malady of separation and fear, we come before you to make our petitions known. Hear our cries for healing of body, mind, and spirit. We know that already you are at work among us, showing us the way to recovery from the toxicities and grief of our time. As broken pieces scattered and separated, we trust that you are seeking us, gathering us into wholeness, and calling us to join you in the quest. We pray especially for those who have experienced the loss of livelihoods and economic security and are feeling helpless to care for their families. We pray for those whose businesses have gone under or are on the precipice between survival or closure. People who were healed by Jesus were not afraid to ask. And so we come before the Holy One, making our petitions and desires known, trusting the work of the Spirit. We pray for those whose disparity of resources has been made even more pronounced during this pandemic. We pray grateful thanks for the efforts of all who have been searching for solutions and have given generously for months of their time and resources to alleviate the suffering of those they know and do not know. We ask for encouragement and passion to re-evaluate how we as a church can help now and into the future. We pray this day for… Commissioning and Benediction - Marcia McFee Jesus’ healing actions often get “buzz” from onlookers. In this week’s story we do not know how his followers reacted to his words, but we can assume that it was hard to hear for some. Jesus makes sure to point out that the belief of this “outsider” and his care for his servant was something he didn’t always see from the “insiders”–from the ones who profess to be “faithful.” His words no doubt affirmed some and offended others. That’s what happens when we get “called out,” as we say. Perhaps we are in need of being “called out.” Not in a way that shames but in a way that energizes. How could our faith call us out more and more until we cannot stand by as some are suffering? As I said last week, we are working on healing for ourselves in this season, but we are also working toward something communal. How can we as a church community become a “health hub” through our ministry and mission? The needs are so great, especially now. Throughout this time, I invite you to explore with us the possibilities for a new or renewed commitment to a contribution we can make at George Whitefield United Methodist Church to our larger community’s effort to recover from this past year. Now go with confidence that the Holy Beachcomber is gathering us all for “Safe Keeping,” recovering our depth of love for all and our joy of living in this world. May the words of Jesus ring in your ears: “I will come.” And may the Spirit hover, move, and deliver salve to your soul and a spring in your step. Amen. Postlude Fading Melissa Quilitzsch
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Sunday, February 21, 2021 || 1st Sunday of Lent Pastor Christy Wright We invite you to light a candle at 9:30 AM and join us in prayer ONLINE or over the PHONE Audio worship is also available at (978) 990-5000, access code 719365#. Just dial in, enter the access code on your keypad, and you will hear the service begin with music. This Lenten Series is adapted from Marcia McFee’s Holy Vessels curriculum. Prelude My Life is in You, Lord Melissa Quilitzsch Announcements Opening Hymn Sacred the Body FWS 2228 1. Sacred the body God has created, 3. Love respects persons, bodies and boundaries. Temple of Spirit that dwells deep inside. Love does not batter, neglect, or abuse. Cherish each person; nurture creation. Love touches gently, never coercing. Treat flesh as holy, that love may abide. Love leaves the other with power to choose. 2. Bodies are varied, made in all sizes, 4. Holy of holies, God ever loving, Pale, full of color, both fragile and strong. Make us your temples indwell all we do. Holy the difference, gift of the Maker, May we be careful, tender and caring, So let us honor each story and song. So may our bodies give honor to you. Introduction - Marcia McFee Each of us is created a precious and holy vessel of embodied love. We have been through a harrowing time since last Lent that has shattered our sense of wholeness–body, mind, and spirit–like a glass vessel fractured into pieces. Let us enter a Lenten “season of recovery” as we focus on Jesus, the Healer of our every ill. Beach glass begins as something whole and yet discarded. As it is tumbled by the sea, it is broken and polished until it becomes a treasured “mineral gem.” We do not embrace that suffering is necessary or God-given, but that suffering is a part of life. When pain comes and brokenness enters our lives, Jesus reaches out to touch and remind us of the Treasure that we all are–worthy of new life in the midst of hopelessness. In a year when pandemic has wreaked havoc on our world, we begin by affirming our journey to physical health. Lent developed into a season of intense inward reflection and confession centuries after the life of Jesus. Yet, as we will see, Jesus encouraged people to open up about their lives–to speak truth–no matter how broken. This is the beginning of compassion for ourselves and others. It is the beginning of healing. The Latin origins of the word “confess” is to “study and acknowledge.” This will be a season of studying how we can be a healing presence in our community. To do this, we acknowledge our need to restore our own Holy Vessels. Let us pray: Creator God, we are bodies fashioned by your hand in your own image, shapes and colors of diverse and immense beauty. And yet too often we have ignored the sacred nature of our physical lives. The Holy Vessels you have fashioned are tired and suffering, ravaged by months of disrupted rhythms and ailment. Our fragility has come into full view and we are frightened. We cannot fathom the proportions of loss and so we look away, sometimes even from our own needs. Help us, Healer. Show us our strength. Forgive our inertia. Move us to move one step at a time toward greater care. In this silence, we sense and acknowledge our yearning for wholeness. Know this: God’s love and grace surround you… No. Matter. What. You are a precious and holy vessel right now. Christ’s light is a treasure given freely. For you, for me, for all. Take a deep breath in to let this truth fill you…and breathe out with the relief of assurance. Vessels, holy and whole. Broken, needing the One. Open, body and soul. Healer, come. Scripture Reading Matthew 8:1-4, 16-17 When Jesus had come down from the mountain, great crowds followed him; and there was a leper who came to him and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean.” He stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, “I do choose. Be made clean!” Immediately his leprosy was cleansed. Then Jesus said to him, “See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.” That evening they brought to him many who were possessed with demons; and he cast out the spirits with a word, and cured all who were sick. This was to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah, “He took our infirmities and bore our diseases.” Sermon - Pastor Christy Wright Shortly after I graduated from college, I moved back home and realized that most of my friends from high school had relocated. I wanted to be more proactive in making new friends, but my church didn’t have many folks my age, so I joined another church’s young adult group. This group immediately welcomed me in, and we got right down to business: they asked how long I had been attending church, if I liked the newest Hillsong worship album, if I followed any influential megachurch pastors on social media. Over the next few months, as I shared more about my life, they began to ask more questions: “You’re working in youth ministry? But you’re an unmarried woman.” Or “You want to go to seminary? But why? Only men go to seminary.” “Wait, you want to be a pastor? Women can’t be pastors; it says so in the Bible.” Over the course of just weeks, I had gone from the newest kid on the block to the ostracized radical liberal who “needed to get right with God.” I felt so alienated, simply because I was being myself and exploring my call. I was an outcast, and I quickly realized that this wasn’t the right place for me. Instead, I found myself treasuring my relationship with my home church, a church that accepted me for who I was, and I adapted to intergenerational friendships instead, which upheld me in love and peace. I knew I was a child of God, called to ministry in love and faith. It felt like I was coming home. And I’m so glad I did, because I wouldn’t have been able to serve you otherwise. This morning’s scripture reading tells us of another individual who was ostracized from the larger community. Those who suffered from leprosy were thrown outside of town limits so they didn’t mix with the general population; they often lived in rough terrain, in mountains and caves. And, much like today, they could not get within six feet of other people - we know that figure well. For folks in this time period, they were concerned with cleanliness and purity, and their customs are a testament to this. If someone was diagnosed with leprosy, the town priest was called, and funeral rights were administered; for all intents and purposes, this person was no longer considered to be alive. This is ostracization beyond anything we have ever known. What’s so radical about this morning’s passage is that Jesus was already walking the paths of the outcasts; he was in the mountains, near the caves. He was around people with whom he wasn’t supposed to interact. But there were other rule breakers in the crowd, too. We hear that this person suffering from leprosy defied all of the rules to be close to Jesus and to walk with this crowd; he knew that Jesus held the key to his well being. Boldly and without hesitation, he asked Jesus for healing. And Jesus, a rabbi who was well aware of purity rules and guidelines - that he could not touch someone suffering with leprosy without he himself being defiled - did the unthinkable and placed his hand on this man’s shoulder and healed him of his disease. Jesus’ willingness to heal this man wasn’t just another miracle, though. Jesus was declaring him to be a beloved treasure and child of God, regardless of disease or status. The crowd around them surely would have seen this happen, but Jesus wanted to protect the man and sent him straight away to the priest, who would examine him and declare him cleansed, ready to be reintegrated back into society. As we close today, I’m wondering how God is calling us to go where the outcasts are located. Rather than waiting for folks to come to us, how can we ourselves be moved with compassion? How are we called to cross boundaries for the sake of others? And I’m curious, too: How can we ourselves be bold in asking for healing? What is something we’ve held onto for too long that requires Jesus’ healing? And lastly, how has God redeemed us from being the outcasts? Can we think of moments in our lives when we’ve felt like beloved treasures, beloved children of God? Because, friends, we are so beloved. We are treasured by God, regardless of disease, or status, or anything else. For we know that nothing can separate us from the love of God through Jesus Christ. Amen. Hymn of Meditation Healer of Our Every Ill FWS 2213 Refrain: Healer of our every ill, light of each tomorrow, give us peace beyond fear, and hope beyond our sorrow. 1. You who know our fears and sadness, 3. Give us strength to love each other Grace us with your peace and gladness; Every sister, every brother; Spirit of comfort, fill our hearts. Spirit of all kindness, be our guide. 2. In the pain and joy beholding 4. You who know each thought and feeling, How your grace is still unfolding, Teach us all your way of healing; Give us all your vision, God of love. Spirit of compassion, fill each heart. Prayer of Meditation - Marcia McFee Healer of our every ill, especially our malady of separation and fear, we come before you to make our petitions known. Hear our cries for healing of body, mind, and spirit. We know that already you are at work among us, showing us the way to recovery from the toxicities and grief of our time. As demolished pieces that are treasured when found, we trust that beauty from brokenness is possible when we seek to bind together that which is wounded. We pray especially for those who have experienced the physical loss of family and friends in the pandemic and those who are still suffering the consequences of the illness. We pray for each person who suffers in body in other ways–weariness from inactivity or weariness from overactivity in this time. We pray for those whose treatment of maladies have been put on hold and those who suffered isolation in their illness, whatever the cause. We pray grateful thanks for the medical staff everywhere around the world who have shown unbelievable strength and stamina and we mourn the demise of too many caregivers who risked their lives for our sake. We pray this day for… Commissioning and Benediction - Marcia McFee Jesus’ healing actions often get “buzz” from onlookers. Some are amazed and in awe and sing praises. Some are bewildered and wonder at this teacher. Some are disgruntled and feel threatened by the boundaries he breaks and the change he invites. We are perhaps prone to all of these at one time or another. Our own work of recovery will sometimes feel immediately refreshing and sometimes it will demand uncomfortable effort. But the rewards are great. We are also working toward something communal in this season. How can we as a church community become a “health hub” through our ministry and mission? The needs are so great, especially now. Throughout this time, I invite you to explore with us the possibilities for a new or renewed commitment to a contribution we can make at George Whitefield United Methodist Church to our larger community’s effort to recover from this past year. Now go with confidence as “Treasures of God,” recovering your depth of love for all and our joy of living in this world. May the words of Jesus ring in your ears: “I do choose you.” And may the Spirit hover, move, and deliver salve to your soul and a spring in your step. Amen. Postlude Second Time Around Melissa Quilitzsch |
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January 2022
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