Tomorrow's Offering

The week has been warm and wonderful. I love summer. On Thursday night I stepped out of the house and into the kind of humidity that adds three pounds to your clothing. All I could think was, "I'm so glad it isn't winter!"

For faithful readers of this blog (all five or six of you), tomorrow's sermon will have a couple of familiar elements. I will be mentioning Nathan Furlong, the young man who was hit by a train near Chicago (I blogged on him a little while back). The good news is that he continues to recover even though he broke his pelvis, his hips, and his left eye socket. He has a long road ahead of him, but at least he is trending in the right direction. Amazing. Few people live after being hurled 70 feet by a train. I will also be mentioning the rip tide story I read while we were vacationing in Florida (does that mean I can write the vacation off on my taxes?).


Tomorrow's sermon, "Happier than Jesus," took some direction I didn't expect. I like it when that happens because it makes preparation more like discovery than work.

Returning with the humidity? Hospital visits. We've had three or four folks in the hospital this week. I'm glad they waited until I got back from vacation--keeps me from feeling guilty.

Peace to you! Here is tomorrow's prayer:

Prayers of the Church for Grandview
8 June 2008

O God, forgive us when our response to your good news is simply to sit, pinched-faced and in rows, overwhelmed by the magnitude of suffering and sicknesses in the world around us. Forgive us for looking into the steely eyes of life and losing our nerve, losing our faith in your ability to work in this fallen kingdom, losing our hope in the God who made us and sustains us. Forgive us when we grieve as people without hope.

Forgive your church, too, when our response to your cross is to forget that people around us are in great pain and despair, suffering the poisonous stings of death, living in prisons of poor choice. Forgive your church for throwing Sunday morning parties without thinking to invite the people nobody else will invite. Forgive your church for whistling past the pain of those around us.

Gather into our lives the stark reality of the cross and the staggering joy of resurrection. Gather into our fellowship the dirge and the dance in order to reveal the fullness of your Son’s humanity and of your love for all people in all circumstances.

Thank that the final words are hope, joy, love, and resurrection. Thank you that you have not gone off and left us. Please give the joy of your presence, healing, comfort, protection, and strength to those who are on our prayer list this morning.

In the silence, O Lord, we bring you our joys and our anxieties, our triumphs and failures, our petitions and praise:

silence

We have the blessing of almost instant news of suffering around the world. Be present with those who are suffering in the aftermath of vicious storms in the Midwest of America, in Myanmar, and in China. Be with those who suffer from political instability in Zimbabwe, Iraq, Afghanistan and in more places than we can know—even with benefit of massive news sound bites.

We hear less about the many wonderful things that are happening around the world today. Give great joy to new parents, to people who have enough to eat, who live under roof and in safety, who aren’t experiencing earthquakes and storms, who can still see your hand at work in nature. Be with those who are awakening this morning to your presence, your reality, and your love.

Together we pray as you have taught us: