Today, I am deeply grateful for those of you who have supported the Dial Hope Foundation with a financial donation. Hope reaches others because of you. Thank you!

The Rev. Mark Trotter tells about an underwater statue of Jesus in the port of Genoa that is called the Christ of the Deep. It is a statue of Christ the Redeemer, Jesus with his arms outstretched, as if to say, “Come unto me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” The statue was placed in the depths of the ocean, as a memorial to all of those who died at sea. But Trotter makes the point that it is also a wonderful reminder that Christ has gone into the depths of our lives, to give us new life. 

Even today, Christ continues to descend into the depths of our pain and heartache, into our joy and celebration; into our problems and burdens. And the invitation is still there for all who are weary and heavy-ladened. He will give you rest.

Our prayer today is attributed to St. Patrick. Let us pray: May the strength of God pilot us. May the power of God preserve us. May the wisdom of God instruct us. May the hand of God protect us. May the way of God direct us. May the shield of God defend us. May the host of God guard us against the snares of evil and the temptations of the world. 

May Christ be with us, Christ before us, Christ in us, Christ over us. May your salvation, O Lord, be always ours this day and forevermore. Amen.

Over the past couple of days, we’ve been reflecting on the idea of sanctuary. In many religious traditions, there is a gathering place, where the community comes together to hear and experience God’s presence.

I love the way the Irish poet and philosopher John O’Donohue frames the importance of this simple act. He writes:

“When one enters (a sanctuary) one does not simply enter a building; rather one enters unknowingly the gathered memory. This house is a living archive of transcendence… People have come into this (space) with burdens of heart that could find healing nowhere else in the world. They have come in here for shelter when storms have unraveled every stitch of meaning from their lives. And they have come in too to give thanks for blessings and gifts they could never have earned…Somewhere in this kept-darkness, the affection that created us waits to bless and heal us.”

All of this makes me think about the sanctuary where my congregation meets. I think about all the people over the years, myself included, who have shown up on a Sunday morning with heavy hearts. I think about moments when I’ve sat there pleading with God for mercy in my own life – and for the world… and other moments when the choir soared and the music touched my soul, and I felt glad to be alive; moments when my heart sang with sheer gratitude and praise. And moments when I felt convicted.

While that place is sacred, at the same time, it is also true that we can enter God’s presence in worship in other spaces.

I know a couple of our parishioners talked about how on Christmas Eve, they worshiped at our church online. They dimmed the lights in their own house and lit a candle. And the lights from all of us in the sanctuary on the screen set an ambiance… And they felt the Spirit’s presence right there in their living room. 

To come into God’s presence means simply to set time aside, perhaps to create a space. And to connect with others even across technology – as we sing, celebrate and acknowledge our common needs. We read these ancient texts in the hopes that our lives will be reshaped more and more into the image of Christ.

May you and I continue to find sanctuary as we offer our entire being in worship to the living God. May we come to see it as the gift that it is. And, in our offering, may God’s healing grace wash over us anew. 

Let us pray: We praise you for the gift of life and love, O God. We turn our hearts now to take sanctuary in you. Take our hearts… take our guilt, our shame, our worries, our anxiety, our joy, our praise, our lives… And fill us with healing, meaning, hope… with mana, with the Bread of Life; through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Two summers ago, when we were on the Island of Iona, I remember going in to worship in that ancient abbey. It definitely felt like a thin place. It was originally built somewhere around the year 1200 I could feel within the walls a thousand years of prayers. I thought about the monks, Vikings, and pilgrims who had walked that sacred ground. 

There was one particular Saturday morning when we went in to worship, the wind was howling and rain was just coming down in sheets. Lighting was cracking. We came in out of the wet cold and sat down. In the moment of silence before worship, you could hear the wind and rain lashing the building outside. And Robbie leaned over and said, if feels like we are quite literally taking sanctuary here.

Psalm 100 is an invitation to find sanctuary: 

Make a joyful noise to the Lord all the earth… Come into God’s presence with singing. Enter God’s courts with praise…

Many scholars believe this psalm was sung as part of a processional leading into the temple in Jerusalem. You can almost sense the underlying joy and exuberance. Of course in those days, people would often travel far to get to the temple. And if you were fortunate enough to be able to make that journey, and enter this holy space, I imagine this song would resonate.

I think about the people of Israel. In those days they were largely an agricultural people and so their lives were at the mercy of the elements…So often they faced famine and drought. And just by means of where they are geographically, they were often at war.

I think about them then in their act of worship. Here was a community banding together to share their common need and to try to deal with what they could not control or even imagine; banding together to stare death and suffering in the eyes – and yet to claim that this suffering does not get to have the last word.

Come into God’s presence with singing…

May you and I continue to find sanctuary as we offer our entire being in worship to the living God. Whether that is in person or across technology, may we come to see it as the gift that it is. And, in our offering, may God’s healing grace wash over us anew. 

Let us pray: We praise you for the gift of life and love, O God. We turn our hearts now to take sanctuary in you. Take our hearts… take our guilt, our shame, our worries, our anxiety, our joy, our praise, our lives… And fill us with healing, meaning, hope… with mana, with the Bread of Life; through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

Several months ago, our church celebrated our Scottish roots with a ceremony called “Kirking of the Tartans.” We were reminded that when Scotland lost its freedom to England in the 1700s, they experienced great loss – even a sense of oppression. They were forbidden to speak Gallic, or to play the pipes or even to wear the colors that symbolized their family heritage. For the people of that nation, this was a dark and difficult time.

At the same time, amazing things happened in Scotland during this historic period. In his book, How the Scots Invented the Modern World, Arthur Herman makes the case that in part, because the Scots no longer had to worry about defending their borders, they were able to put more time and resources into developing their education – especially the University system. Out of these schools came the men and women who were most influential in developing many of our modern inventions, and in the Enlightenment. Many of these men and women went on to influence – directly or indirectly – the birth of our democratic nation.

All of this just reminds me that even in the darkest moments of life, God is present. And though it is often impossible to see it in the moment, there is potential for great good and beauty and truth to emerge.  

Let us pray: When darkness and uncertainty surround us, it is tempting to give up, to grow bitter or cynical. Give us eyes to see beyond the darkness. Give us faith to trust that you are at work and that your love will ultimately prevail. Grant us courage and strength to look for the good and to move forward in faith. We ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Today, I am deeply grateful for those of you who have supported the Dial Hope Foundation with a financial donation. So many people benefit from your giving!

Many years ago, I heard a part of Billy Graham’s 1998 TED talk. TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, and Design, and it refers to conferences that host inspiring speakers in these fields from all over the world. In any case, Billy Graham spoke about questions he often received from University students – questions about life and death and morality and faith. He related that one student asked him, “What has been your biggest surprise in life?” He answered, “My biggest surprise in life: is its brevity.”

It is true that when we’re young we seem immortal and invincible. It feels as though life will continue on indefinitely. But as we mature and age, we quickly realize how fleeting it is. The Psalmist reminds us that our days are like a breath (Psalm 39 and 144).

When we remember that we are here for only a short time, it raises both the questions of eternity and of what we are leaving behind. Have we made contributions toward making this world a better place? Will the people around us know our love for them? Have we accepted God’s grace and love for us? And is that making a difference in how we live?

Psalm 90 prays: Teach us to count our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

My friend Roger Kunkel used to say, “Today is an unrepeatable miracle.” There will never be another one like it! “Let’s make it a masterpiece.”

Let us pray: Loving and Gracious God, we thank you for the gift of life and for your unconditional love for us. Help us to accept both gifts and then live in light of both. Amen.