II Corinthians 8.7-15
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning,
Plymouth Congregational UCC
Fort Collins, Colorado
 
 Abundance has become a watchword for some new age-ish groups, who think that it has to do with “manifesting” wealth or that if you are thinking very clearly and correctly and have made financial gain your objective, it will simply happen. (Unless, of course, you live in Carbon, West Virginia, or Zimbabwe or Bangladesh or you’re a woman in Saudi Arabia or a Black farmhand in Louisiana or living on the Navajo Reservation.) That’s a misapprehension of the word abundance, and not what Paul is talking about, and it’s not what I’m going to refer to today. Abundance is about having enough, not about oversupply. And God provides abundance. It’s all a matter of whether or not we humans can learn how to share it with one another.

Much of what we perceive about God’s abundance, specifically what God has entrusted to us, comes from our family and personal history. The attitudes of our families of origin play a very large part in the way we ourselves think about money, time, and abundance.

My dad was born in 1920 and lived through the Great Depression. His father died suddenly in 1933, leaving my grandmother with six children to feed, house, and clothe. She worked for the telephone company and owned a duplex, so she had a bit of money from renting out the other half of their home, but I imagine that their financial situation after my grandfather’s death was precarious at best. My dad became a professional jazz musician and traveled with a big band in the late 30s, and when World War II was on the horizon in 1941, he enlisted and eventually became a B-17 pilot. Coming home from the war as an officer, he probably felt as though he had a bit of real money for the first time. Like many of his generation, he went to college on the GI Bill, started a career, bought a home, and raised a family. It was a world of possibility. There were financial ups and downs along the way for my parents, but one of the messages I got from my dad was that money is a tool to be used, rather than an end in itself. My parents were also very generous with the church, both with their time and with their money. As part of the Greatest Generation, he had an optimistic outlook that things were going to get better, because they always had.

In ways that I probably don’t fully understand, my father’s experience of abundance — surviving the Depression, becoming a professional musician, an officer, going to Marietta College (founded by Congregationalists, by the way), grad school at Duke, becoming a marketing executive — informs some of my attitudes about abundance. His optimism is often alive and well in me.

What about you? How did your family’s experience with poverty or wealth or having just enough telegraph its way into your life? Do you see patterns in your attitudes about abundance that are expressions of your parents’ experience?

Whether we sense that we have much or little depends largely on perspective. Some folks might feel as though they are just making it on $100,000 a year, while others can’t imagine what they’d do with all that money. It also depends on what kind of societal messages we’ve internalized.

Many of the advertisements we see are geared to make us think that we don’t just want a product, but that we need it, and sometimes that we are inadequate if we don’t have it. It’s hard to imagine the impact of advertising on our children, who start seeing ads on television and on other screens from the time they are quite young. Advertising is incredibly pervasive, and many of its messages are antithetical to the idea of God’s abundance.

Many years ago, I was traveling in West Africa, and our bus stopped outside a village in Senegal. Some of us had tiny “fun-size” candy bars, which we shared with some local kids. Most American children would likely have scrambled to take the candy and eat it, but the kids in this village gathered around while one of the children divided the tiny candy bar so that everyone could have some. That was many years ago, but it really stuck with me, because those kids who had so little also had a sense of abundance — that there was enough to share around with everyone. Their culture focused on “us” and “ours,” rather than just “me” and “mine.” They have a surprising attitude of abundance!

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Paul is writing to the church in Corinth in this chapter of his letter, describing for them the generosity of the churches of Macedonia, who have given generously for the support of the church in Jerusalem. And he is encouraging generosity among all of the churches for their mutual support. He opens the chapter writing “about the grace of God that has been granted to the churches in Macedonia; for during a severe ordeal of affliction, their abundant joy and extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part.” Does that sentence sound a little bit off to you, linking “abundant joy” and “extreme poverty?” I think Paul is getting at what the kids in Senegal knew: that if we’re in this together, even when we are experiencing poverty, we can be joyful together. But the Macedonians apparently push one step further by experiencing a “wealth of generosity” to share with the church in Jerusalem.  Paul writes to the Corinthians that “it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need.” (You’d think Paul had never heard of laissez-faire capitalism!)

I want to let you know that this congregation is much like one of the generous churches in Macedonia; we are giving out of our abundance. Throughout the pandemic, you have continued to support not just Plymouth, but the wider church and community as well. This year in our budget, we are committing $44,000 to Our Church’s Wider Mission, the program that supports our conference, the national setting of the church, and our global mission and national justice ministries. Even though we don’t have the largest budget among the churches of the Rocky Mountain Conference, we give more than any other congregation. And I don’t say that to disparage them, but rather to thank and to encourage you. Thanks to our sense of abundance, we are in a position to be generous in supporting the other churches of the Rocky Mountain Conference, the churches of the UCC, and our global mission. Even in the midst of the pandemic shutdown, you have continued to sense of God’s abundance, rather than give way to the fear of scarcity. We even used income from our endowment to provide video-recording equipment to congregations too small to afford it otherwise. And I give thanks for your generosity.

Each morning, I sit with my prayer beads (outside when the weather is good) and offer the lines of some Celtic prayers I’ve collected and adapted, and recently I’ve done something additional. I offer the 28 lines of prayer, but then I go around the prayer beads again and give thanks to God for 28 things or places or people for whom I am grateful. It’s much like a gratitude list, but I also remember to thank God, who is the giver of it all. On Wednesday morning, I noticed the profusion of growth and color in our backyard.

The sun peeking between the branches of an Aspen tree…bougainvillea blossoms that have become deeper red in the sun…small yellow blossoms that will turn into tomatoes that we’ll enjoy later this summer…the pink peonies that came from Jane Anne’s family home…the bushy basil destined to become pesto…the verdant mixed greens that will find their way to our dinner table…tiny green apples beginning to populate our trees…purple flowers that will turn into Japanese eggplant…and lavender that sweetens the air.

The abundance of God is everywhere, if we just take a moment to see it and experience it. It is there in new life and baptism. It is there in our return from pandemic exile. It is there in the long days of summer. My invitation to you this week is to spend a few minutes outdoors on a walk, or sitting on a park bench, or even looking out the window, and simply soak in God’s abundance and give thanks. I also invite you to make a gratitude list of the people, places, and things that God has provided in your life that give you a sense of deep joy, and to offer a prayer of thanksgiving for them.
God’s abundance is there for us to enjoy, to give thanks for, and to share. May you become ever more aware of the abundance that God has brought into your life.
Amen.
 
© 2021 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact hal at plymouthucc.org for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses.

Mark 4: 25-41
Plymouth Congregational Church, UCC
Fort Collins, CO
The Rev. Jane Anne Ferguson
 
35 On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, "Let us go across to the other side." 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" 39 He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" 41 And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" NRSV

35Later that day, when evening came, Jesus said to them, "Let's cross over to the other side of the lake."36They left the crowd and took him in the boat just as he was. Other boats followed along. 37Gale-force winds arose, and waves crashed against the boat so that the boat was swamped. 38But Jesus was in the rear of the boat, sleeping on a pillow. They woke him up and said, "Teacher, don't you care that we're drowning?" 39He got up and gave orders to the wind, and he said to the lake, "Silence! Be still!" The wind settled down and there was a great calm. 40Jesus asked them, "Why are you frightened? Don't you have faith yet?" 41Overcome with awe, they said to each other, "Who then is this? Even the wind and the sea obey him!" Bible, Common English with Apocrypha - eBook [ePub] (Kindle Locations 39334-39340). Kindle Edition.
                 
I knew when I read this story again that I had preached on it before. So I looked back at my sermons. Yep! Twice before in the six and a half years I have been at Plymouth. Most likely before that at one or two of the other churches I have served. And I distinctly remember an intergenerational Biblical storytelling event I led many years ago when a wonderfully, feisty and well-spoken, tiny and very blonde four year old – Helena – played Jesus in the storm-tossed boat. She stilled the waves with no fear and no uncertain command!

In 2015, this was my text here at Plymouth just days after the shooting at Mother Emmanuel AME Church in Charleston, SC where nine African-American members were shot by a young white man interrupting a Bible study. In June 2018 when we read and considered this text together, there was a volcano in Hawaii erupting and destroying homes, huge floods in Vietnam killing people, a large, fatal mining accident in China, a terrorist bomb in Ethiopia that killed over 150, conflict in Syria and at the border of Gaza, the worst e coli outbreak in many years in the US and political turmoil due to our government’s administration. Now today, we hear the story of Jesus stilling the storm again as we prepare to re-open our church building for worship after a pandemic shut-down we could not have even imagined 3-6 years ago. Not to mention the political and societal events of the last 16 months.
So many “storms.”  It seems, there are always “storms” in to ride out in life.  No wonder this story shows up not only in 3 out of four canonical gospels. The older I get the more I realize that there is not as much smooth sailing in life as I imagined there would be when I was younger. It seems that more often than not, we are all just holding on for the ride! Like the disciples in that storm-tossed boat on that large, large lake called the Sea of Galilee.

Do you think they argued about waking up Jesus? “Let him sleep! He’s been teaching and preaching all day standing in this rocking boat! So many crowds. Everyone wanting healing! He is so tired. We can handle this storm!” “I don’t know, its getting really bad … we are starting to take on water – fast! I think we need help!” “Nah, we just have to steer carefully….besides what can he do? He’s not a fisherman.” “He can help bail!” The tension grows and the storm worsens until even the most seasoned of the fishermen are afraid and they all cry out, “Teacher, don’t you care that we are drowning?” And Jesus is suddenly awake.

I think we tell this story time and again because time and again we need to hear Jesus words. We need to hear him shout out to the storm, “Silence! Be still!” or more literally from the Greek, “Be Silent! Be Muzzled!” “Hush!” And the story tells us there was a great calm, a dead calm. Whew…..let’s just take a deep breath….then let it all out….Can we stay here for a moment in the calm?
Personally, I would like to stay for much more than a moment….how about staying in this calm, breathing deeply, out of danger, protected in the presence of Jesus’ powerful stilling of the storm for a really long time? I need to catch my breath big time! How about you?

That is the beauty of story and why stories like this one bear repeating time after time. We can always come back to this healing moment. We can read or tell ourselves this story every day and come back to this moment of Jesus’ stilling, calming presence in the storms of our lives and catch our breath. We live in the middle of many exterior storms in life, the storms of politics and pandemics, the storms of racism and poverty and gun violence, the storms of conflict in our families and in our workplaces, on the playground, in school. However, I will venture to say that the storms we carry around inside our minds and hearts are even more frightening and exhausting – the storms of fear and anxiety, of worry, of being overly competitive, of greed, of insecurity, of seeking to control things that we really have no control over. The inside storms interact with the exterior storms and cause us even more pain and suffering. How often do you feel that you are living in a whirlwind?

So come back to this moment when Jesus says, “Silence! Be Still! Enough already!” Breathe deep and let your hands unclench from the sides of the boat or the oar you are holding to help row the boat or the rudder to steer the direction or the rope for the sail that guides the power momentum of the wind. You don’t have to let go of those things completely, just relax the white-knuckled grip…for just a moment and catch your breath in the calm of Jesus’ powerful presence. And listen. To the quiet. To the gentle lapping of water against the boat. To the breathing of those around you, you are not alone. To your own beating heart. Just listen and breathe for a time.

We have been through such tumultuous times together in this little boat we call the church. We have weathered extreme changes, tacking right and left abruptly, to stay on course. Bailing water so as not to sink. Adapting to all the changes and confronting the conflicts of the last 16 months. We have done well…. And let’s not forget why…Jesus, God- With-Us, is in our boat. At times like these it is tempting to push ahead with the adrenaline panic of the storm we have just come through. But we do not need to do that! Because God-With-Us is present and brings us calm. We are still in the boat together out in the middle of the lake. We still have to reach the other side safely. This is true. There is so much planning to do as we re-open our building, as we learn to be church in person again, as we incorporate all we have learned by being forced to do church, to be church in new ways. So much planning as we hire and call new staff, prepare for them to come. Planning as we incorporate online worship with live worship, welcoming new friends who have joined us through the internet. Planning to do as we implement the goals and tasks of our new strategic plan that calls us to outreach and mission on unknown shores. I am tempted to be completely overwhelmed.

But Jesus is in the boat! Calming the waves and the wind. And in the quiet I hear him say to me, to us, “Why are you frightened? Don't you have faith yet? You have come through the storms and I was with you the whole time. Can you rest in, take heart in, trust in God’s presence?” This is an image I will literally take with me into my work as we move ahead as church. I need this image to calm the interior storms in my heart and mind and soul knowing I have little to no control over the exterior storms of life.

We are headed to new shores of mission as a faith community just as the disciples in the boat were headed with Jesus to the country of the Gentiles where he would proclaim God’s good news of love and forgiveness and demonstrate God’s healing power. God has work for us to do, but we cannot do it all on our own power. We need God’s powerful calming presence to help us steer the boat, to remind us to breath and not to bicker with one another, to have each other’s backs as we engage the work of God in new ways. We need to hear the message, “Do not be afraid. Have faith. Trust in my presence.”
There is a beautifully, poetic song titled, “The Wood Song” written by Emily Saliers, one of the Indie rock duo, “The Indigo Girls.” I think it is a song about faith communities and I know that Emily was steeped in such communities growing up as the daughter of two faithful people who I had the privilege to know when I lived in Atlanta, GA. One was a librarian who led wonderful reading hours for children and one a seminary professor who taught worship and liturgy. The imagery in “The Wood Song” is about being in a boat together during stormy times and the refrain goes like this:
“But the wood is tired and the wood is old
And we'll make it fine if the weather holds
But if the weather holds we'll have missed the point
That's where I need to go.”[i]
 
“That where I need to go” to that place of faith and trust where I can hear the voice of Jesus, God-With-Us, say “Silence! Peace! Be Still. Have faith.” I think you and I know that the weather will not hold – at least for long. Yet there is calm in the midst of the storm and we will make it to the other side, just holding on the ride, since we have God-With-Us in the boat. Are you with me?
Amen.

©The Rev. Jane Anne Ferguson, 2021 and beyond. May be reprinted with permission only.

[i] https://genius.com/Indigo-girls-the-wood-song-lyrics

“Blooming”
Mark 4. 26-34
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning, Plymouth Congregational UCC
Fort Collins, Colorado
13 June 2021
 
 This week when I was walking our dog, Bridey, on a dirt trail near our house, I was astounded to see how high the various grasses have grown, and not just on the sides of the path, but even sprouting up in the cracked, parched soil that benefitted from a couple of wet weeks late in May. “The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head.” Our seasonal cycle is off to a roaring start with all of the moisture we’ve had, and I know that we’ll soon see our vegetables sprouting and blooming. And they all start with seed and are nourished by healthy soil, sun, and water.

You may know the lovely poem by Wendell Berry, called “Sabbaths.” Here are a few lines of this poem that describes the intersection of human work in sowing, tilling, and harvest and the work of God: “And yet no leaf or grain is filled by work of ours; the field is tilled and left to grace. That we may reap, great work is done while we’re asleep. When we work well, a Sabbath mood rests on our day, and finds it good.”

There is so much that we humans affect in plant growth…that is the nature of agriculture, going right back to the Near East millennia ago. And yet there are things that are well beyond our control, things that we should marvel at and see as everyday miracles, like the fertility of the earth, the diversity of plant and animal life, the abundance of water, air, and land. And there are enormous implications for the ways we act as stewards of creation…and that’s a sermon for another day.

There is also a miraculous sense in which you and I are the vessels into which the kingdom of God — God’s liberating reign — is sown and nourished. If you were to think of yourself as a container of potting soil and the Spirit placing one tiny seed within you, isn’t it amazing how that seed can either flourish or become dormant or even die? What happens to seeds that don’t have adequate soil drainage? or don’t get enough water? or get too much or too little sun? or get nipped by the frost? There are all kinds of ways that the seed of the Spirit within you needs tending, some that you may not even be aware of.

Like all good gardening, nurturing the seed of the Spirit within you takes some intention. Nurture is the place where transformation and spiritual growth happen. How do you weed and water the seed of the Spirit within you? We need to love and to be loved, to serve and to be served as part of our growing. We need times of quiet contemplation and times of action to stretch us spiritually. Times of prayer and spiritual practice can help us distinguish what is important in life from that which is simply urgent. And it’s not always pleasant experiences that cause us to grow…surviving and thriving in hard times can sometimes help spiritual seeds grow stronger, too. Part of our purpose as the folks who comprise the church is to keep reorienting us so that we face toward God and grow spiritually.
Have you ever thought of yourself as a vessel that contains a germinating seed of holiness and wholeness? Paul uses a related analogy in Second Corinthians: “We have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us.”[1] Each of us is an imperfect vessel that grows and spreads God’s love for creation, including humanity.

All of this nurture wouldn’t do much of anything if there hadn’t been a seed of spirituality sown within us by God. As Wendell Berry said, “no leaf or grain is filled by work of ours; the field is tilled and left to grace.” Spiritual growth is a cooperative venture between God and us.

So, what if the seed has been planted within you is a fast-growing, take-over-the-garden kind of plant? Years ago, a neighbor gave us some mint, which we planted in a planter, and in the years since, it has jumped to a patch under some shrubs, the gaps in our patio, and turned into a minty-smelly border in our lawn. (A friend once said that it’s impossible to steal mint…you’re doing someone a favor by ripping some of theirs up and taking it home!)

That’s kind of what the mustard plant Jesus describes is like. It isn’t a nice, little domesticated plant that might be used to produce French’s, or Gulden’s, or even Grey Poupon…it’s more of a noxious weed that takes over the garden. Here is what one ancient author, Pliny the Elder, wrote in the first century: “with its pungent taste and fiery effect [it] is extremely beneficial for the health. It grows entirely wild, though it is improved by being transplanted: but on the other hand, when it has once been sown it is scarcely possible to get the place free of it, as the seed when it falls germinates at once.”[2]  (Pliny, incidentally, took the National Geographic thing too seriously, and was killed by getting too close while investigating the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in 79 A.D.)

So, the kingdom of God is like a noxious weed that is really potent and has a “fiery effect” and that will probably take over your garden if it gets too close. And if that is the seed God planted within us as Christians, we should be a force to be reckoned with!

Dom Crossan often talks about “the normalcy of civilization,” by which he means the things that humans have done ever since we started cultivating crops and raising livestock instead of hunting and gathering. He contends that one of the marks of the normalcy of civilization is empire: taking for your own group or nation what another has. It is survival of the fittest culture in a dog-eat-dog world. Certainly, one can see the Roman or Babylonian Empire as examples of one culture controlling the land and people of another and cashing in on it. You can see how the British did that in India or how the Japanese did it in the Pacific in the 1930s or how Europeans did it with North and South America. The Greek word used in the New Testament for empire is “basileia,” which is the same word we translate as “kingdom,” as in the kingdom of God. That is critically important: When the author of Mark writes, basileia, he is using the same word to describe the Roman Empire. It’s the way of rule or reign, not necessarily a geographic location. And the contrast is dramatic between the basileia tou theou, the reign of God, and the reign of Caesar.

The reign of Caesar was about dominating conquered peoples, resettling their land, creating a system of military control that allowed everything to work. It was a system that aimed at eventual peace, gained through violence, war, and oppression. The realm of God reverses that by first seeking love, compassion, abundance, connection, justice, and commonwealth as a pathway to peace or shalom. The two systems couldn’t be more different!

The writer of Luke’s gospel puts it succinctly: “The kingdom of God is within you all.”[3] Think about that for a moment…the seeds of God’s liberating reign are in all of us.

Sometimes I wonder whether we Christians actually have two seeds planted within us: the seed of the reign of God and the seed of the normalcy of civilization or empire. Do you ever wonder what is growing in you? Is it a sense of abundance or scarcity? Is it faith or fear? Is it compassion or apathy? Is it generosity or greed? Is it love or is it self-centeredness? Is it courage or is it anxious worry?

If we do all have the seeds of the realm of God and the normalcy of civilization planted within us, which seed are you nurturing? If the pandemic has led us to water the seed of fear, apathy, and anxiousness, that is the seed that will take hold and grow within us. If we water and tend the seed of the reign of God, we will see the fruits of faith, love, and courage in our lives and in the world.

That tiny mustard seed within each of us needs love and attention to flourish and grow. That’s why we are here together as church! And as it grows in you, it will reach out beyond you and have effects far and wide. Always remember: “The kingdom of God is within you.”
Amen.

© 2021 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact [email protected] for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses.
 
[1] 2 Corinthians 4.7
[2] see John Dominic Crossan, Jesus: A Revolutionary Biography,(SF: HarperSanFrancisco, 1993) p. 65.
[3] Luke 17.20

Psalm 138
2nd Sunday of Pentecost
Outdoor Worship in the Park
Plymouth Congregational Church, UCC
The Rev. Jane Anne Ferguson
 
Psalm 138
I give thanks to you with all my heart, [Holy One].
I sing your praise before all other gods.
I bow toward your holy temple and thank your name
for your loyal love and faithfulness
because you have made your name and word greater than everything else.
On the day I cried out, you answered me. You encouraged me with inner strength.
Let all the earth's rulers give thanks to you, [O God,] when they hear what you say.
Let them sing about [Your] ways because the [Your] glory and [goodness] is so great!
Even though the [Holy One] is high, she can still see the lowly,
but God keeps his distance from the arrogant.
Whenever I am in deep trouble, you make me live again;
you send your power against my enemies' wrath;
you save me with your strong hand. [God] will do all this for my sake.
Your faithful love lasts forever, [Holy One]!
Don't let go of what your hands have made.
 
Bible, Common English. CEB Common English Bible with Apocrypha - eBook [ePub] (Kindle Locations 23853-23867). C

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Look around you! Take a good, long look! Look at all your friends and Plymouth family. Here we are together again – finally!  Thanks be to God!

The ancient Israelite poet who wrote Psalm 138 in thanksgiving for the Israelites being delivered from exile and their return home to Jerusalem and their beloved temple. We, too, have been a people in exile and isolation from our beloved community. Jerusalem did not look the same. It had to be rebuilt, literally. And community had to be rebuilt with those who had been left in the ruins of Jerusalem to survive and those taken away to Babylon into exile.

Like the ancients we, too, stand on the brink of rebuilding. We come back together after living through so much unexpected trauma and grief. Some of us have been touched personally by Covid 19. Some of us have not. Yet we all hold the collective sadness and fear from this frightening time. Some of us experienced job insecurity, perhaps a lay-off or loss of a job. We have just experienced the fear in the pit of our stomachs of “what if” that were me and the sorrow for those who have been out of work. We all lived through the polarity and division of the election season. We all lived through the gut-punch of seeing George Floyd’s death and the ensuing reality of the devastation brought on by ignoring white privilege, white body supremacy and what it has done and continues to do to the soul of our nation. We all lived through season of the ash falling on our heads from the largest wildfire in Colorado history that was just over those hills. It has been a hot mess, people!!

As joyous as our reunion is today, these months of exiles have taken their toll on us as individuals and as community. We may be tempted to rush back to what we thought was normal as a way of dealing with our grief and anxiety. And then be disappointed that it is not the same and can’t ever be just like before the pandemic. We may be feeling exhausted and anxious, unwilling to jump back into what we think used to be normal. The time of isolation and slower activity has taught us that we may not want to be as crazily over-committed as perhaps we once were. I have heard friends and family members say that they are wandering who their community is after the isolation. Is it the same as it was before? Will they take up all the same friendships as before? What are the thoughts or feelings wondering around in your minds and hearts this morning along with the joy and gratitude of being back together?

Though our psalm is written in first person “I” statements, the poet is speaking for the community. I think the psalmist’s words hold so much wisdom for us right now as we begin gathering after these long 15 months of exile from being in person. Instead of just telling you what they mean to me I am going to invite us all the spend some time with the psalmist’s words individually as we sit here together in community. I will read the psalm three times and invite us to sit in moments of silence after each time to let the words and images work on our souls. This is an ancient spiritual practice called Lectio Divina or contemplative reading. We will sit for just one minute of silence after each reading – for some that will be enough, for those used to this practice it will seem short. In the silence, let the outside sounds flow over you like the breeze…let your distracting thoughts flow up into the sky and your breath return you to the psalm.
 
I give thanks to you with all my heart, [Holy One].
I sing your praise before all other gods, [things that distract me from following you.]
I bow toward you, [here in the holy temple of your creation] and thank your name
for your loyal love and faithfulness
because you have made your name and word greater than everything else.
On the day I cried out, you answered me. You encouraged me with inner strength.
Let all the earth's rulers give thanks to you, [O God,] when they hear what you say.
Let them sing about [Your] ways because the [Your] glory and [goodness] is so great!
Even though the [Holy One] is high, she can still see the lowly,
but the arrogant distance themselves from God’s presence.
Whenever I am in deep trouble, you make me live again;
you send your power against my enemies' wrath; [against the fears that assail me;]
you save me with your strong hand. [God]will do all this for my sake.
Your faithful love lasts forever, [Holy One]!
Don't let go of what your hands have made.
 
Questions for contemplation in silence after each reading.

• 1st reading - What word or phrase is shimmering in your mind, jumping out at you after hearing the psalm?
• 2nd reading – What question arises from the shimmering word or phrase? Lift it up to God.
• 3rd reading – Rest in this reading and in the silence…be aware that in your rest an  “answer” to your question might arise.

 
“Don’t let go, Holy One, of what your hands have made.” This was the phrase that jumped out at me the first time I read the psalm. In a different translation it reads, “Finish in us the good work that you started.” My friends, as we face the dangers of history – and we have faced them this year and they will continue to confront us – may we hold fast to all the good works that God has started and will start in us. We are what God’s hands have made. We are all made in God’s image…the whole of creation is made by God and holds God’s divine image in every blade of grass, every leaf, every bird, squirrel, bug, and garter snake. God will not let go of us. Let us not let go of God and of one another as we rebuild our community in these new times.

Amen.
 
©The Rev. Jane Anne Ferguson, 2021 and beyond. May be reprinted only with permission.