Lent is about giving stuff up and generally being miserable, right?

No. Lent is about returning to delight.

Lent invites us back into the loving arms of God. Lent is about confronting all the life-draining ways we seek cheap substitutes for God’s love and grace and mercy, and chucking them and turning to the Real Stuff. It’s about giving ourselves the gift of receiving the love we crave. No matter what we may “give up for Lent,” what we’re really giving up is the habit of withholding God’s love from ourselves by seeking it elsewhere. We give up junk to receive treasure. But, yeah, sometimes the giving up is hard. Because we’re addicted. But there’s life on the other side.

Sin

Sin is thinking (or acting as if) we’re on our own.
There’s only one thing, one Holy Being (which we nickname “God”), and we’re part of it. But we don’t get it. The part of our consciousness (actually mostly unconscious) that we call our ego is at work, as it should be, continually asking, “What’s me, and not me? How do I protect what’s me?” The trouble is, we believe it. We believe and act as if we’re our own little selves, individual physical units, contained in and defined by our bodies. (Paul calls this “living according to the flesh.”) This self-centeredness is sin. But God is infinite; there is nothing outside God. We are part of God. We are emanations of divine love, members of the Body of Christ, made one in the one Spirit. To trust this, to willingly be part of God, is what Paul calls “living in the Spirit.”

Our sinfulness doesn’t mean we’re “bad.” It means we’re afraid. It means we’re inherently self-centered. We don’t know how to trust God, and trust our belonging in God. We focus on the survival of our bodies and possessions and outward appearances, and not on the life of God within us. The only cure for separation is connection. The only cure for fear is love. The only cure for sin is grace.

Righteousness

Righteousness is being in harmony with God.

Sin is being out of tune. Righteousness is being in tune. It does not mean “being right.” In fact it’s the opposite. There are two religions in the world: the religion of being right and the religion of being in love. In the religion of being right you figure out how the universe works and play by those rules and succeed (defined as “righteousness”), or fail to get it right and suffer. The religion of being right is inherently selfish, inimical to love. In the religion of being in love you allow yourself to be loved as a gift, and in gratitude pass that love on to others because you’re all part of the same love. Righteousness is allowing yourself to be loved, and to become loving. The two religions are incompatible. If you follow all the rules sooner or later you’ll hurt somebody. And in the religion of being in love if you always do what is loving sooner or later you’ll break a rule, or fail to “get it right” for yourself, and suffer for it. You can’t practice both religions at the same time; we’re always choosing one or the other. Jesus quotes Hosea 6.6 (twice!) and says “Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.” (Mt. 9.13. See also Mt. 12.7).

The religion of being right is the religion of our sin. We don’t trust God’s love but instead believe we have to deserve God’s favor by being good enough. We achieve righteousness. Even our attempt to be righteous is sinful. Instead we’re invited to allow God, in love, to make us righteous, to bring us into harmony with God in loving mercy. Despite our waywardness, God, out of pure love not our merit, says, “We’re good.” God’s love makes us righteous.

Salvation

God’s love saves us from the life-sapping power of our own selfishness.

Because in our sin we cut ourselves off from life, seeking to ensure for ourselves the life that can come only from God, sin is death—that’s the bad news. But the good news is God gives us life anyway, life that can’t be taken from us—not even by sin or death. This is the gift of eternal life. We disconnect ourselves from God, but Gods stays connected anyway. This is not anything we can affect: we are unable to save ourselves from our own self-centeredness. It is a gift of pure grace.

Salvation doesn’t mean going to heaven after we die. Salvation means being rescued from the selfishness that destroys our lives—our distrust of God, our alienation from the divine breathing Spirit in us that is our our true and only source of life. God overcomes all this. It is not the result of our effort, but God’s grace. The “heaven” we go to is not the afterlife, but the paradise of being in harmony with God.

Repentance

Sin is being out of tune with God. Repentance is tuning up.

Repentance is listening to God so we can sing in tune. Even Jesus needed to listen; notice how often he goes off to pray. So we attend to the work of repentance: the work of turning from what diminishes life toward what restores life: turning away from sin, toward God. Repentance is not what we do to be saved, but what we do because we have been saved. Repentance is a three-fold process: being honest about our brokenness, opening ourselves to God’s grace, and allowing ourselves to be transformed. (Followers of John Wesley will recognize the prevenient, justifying and sanctifying nature of God’s grace.) With Jesus in the desert we face our temptations, the ways our desire for life get distorted into desire for power, security and belonging in sources other than God. We confront our ego and its fears and desires, our self-centeredness and its consequences; and practice letting go of those false fears and demands. We confess not only our individual sins but our collective sin, the systems of injustice that our sin produces and sustains. We acknowledge that we are dust in need of Spirit.

God’s response is not punishment, but grace. God’s judgment is not a verdict, but a prescription. When we fail to bear fruit fruit God does not punish us but gives us what we need to bear fruit (see Luke 13.1-9).

So our focus is not on our sin, but on God’s grace. For only God’s love cures the sickness that is our sin. Repentance is accepting the love we’ve been resisting, and giving God’s forgiveness a chance to sink in. We practice breathing-in God’s love.

And we invite and allow that grace to change us, to inhabit us, to rule us. Repentance is about turning to the divine life that is there inside us that we’ve been neglecting. When we let go of our self-contentedness and accept God’s love, our hearts are changed: we want to live in harmony with that love and grace. We allow ours old selves to die so God can re-create us, animated by the Spirit instead of our sin. We are re-born. This is the true nature of resurrection: not a comeback, but a complete new beginning.

Lent is a season of forty days of repentance and purification in preparation for Easter. We pray for the gift of repentance through fasting, prayer and works of love, that we may be healed and transformed according to the grace of God. Remembering that we are dust, and to dust we shall return, we place our trust in God alone for life. Beholding the cross of Christ, we enter into the mystery of our salvation. Giving our lives to God, we die and are raised to new life. Our guiding images in Lent are Jesus’ sojourn in the desert facing his temptations, and his journey toward the cross

Ashes

We are ashes (dust) plus Spirit. Remember that.

Lent begins on Ash Wednesday. The ashes represent the frailty of our faith—they are made from last year’s Palm Sunday palms. As with anything we loved but have lost, ashes represent the sorrow we feel upon facing our sinfulness, our regret over having hurt ourselves, our neighbor, God, and all Creation. (It may seem odd to speak of God being hurt, but that’s the very meaning of love—and the reality of the cross.) In the beginning God took dust up from the ground and breathed life (breath, spirit) into it, and it became a living human. We are dust and spirit. Of course what we see and touch seems most real to us, so we believe in the dust more than the Spirit. Ashes remind us that we are made of dust, dependent on God’s grace. And they remind us of our mortality. “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” The future is not guaranteed: now is the time to let go of our illusions about ourselves (burning them to ashes) and to live the authentic life God has given us. Mindful that life is short and precious, we devote ourselves to using every moment we are given for the sake of love, to give and receive God’s grace while we can. We place ashes on ourselves as a sign that we are Creatures and God is Creator; that we are to die to sin, and that it is not our efforts, but God’s grace, that redeems us. Remembering that in Creation God formed a human from the dust of the ground and breathed life into it to create a living human, we present ourselves as dust to God, that God may breathe God’s Spirit into us and create us anew.
 

The Cross

What saves us is not Jesus’ suffering but his forgiveness.

The scandal of the cross is that God saves us not though God’s power and might but through God’s vulnerability. God doesn’t vanquish evil by conquering it, but in suffering it with us and setting us free from its power. The cross is the cost of love. In Jesus on the cross we see God’s suffering love in the face of our sin and violence. Jesus did not die “so that God could forgive us;” God forgave us already. Jesus died because we killed him. Jesus suffered the consequences of our sin, our injustice, but he did not “pay for our sins:” sin can’t be bought off. To say we have been “purchased with a price” doesn’t mean Jesus “bought” something. Our salvation is a gift, not a transaction—though it costs God. God did not arrange for Jesus to be killed; that was our doing. God didn’t “plan” the cross. Jesus didn’t set out to die; he set out to do justice, at any cost to himself. Jesus opposed unjust religious, political, economic and social systems of oppression—and the powerful struck back. In his death we see evil exposed. We see God as the victim of all injustice and oppression (“whatever you do to the least of these…”) And we see God’s love and forgiveness in the face of our evil. Jesus suffered our judgment, and brought God’s judgment in return: God’s absolute, eternal, infinite love and forgiveness.

Our sin is that we don’t trust God’s love, and think instead that we have to be good enough to deserve God’s favor. The crucifixion embodies our judgment that Jesus didn’t “get it right.” God’s judgment is mercy on one who didn’t get it right, because God’s way is to be loving, not to be right, or to demand that we get it right. God’s mercy overturns our judgment.

In the cross we see the scandal of God’s vulnerability with us. God doesn’t demand suffering; God suffers with us and even because of us—to stay with us. In the cross God lives out the reality of being in a body, with all the beauty and pain and even mortality that entails: such is the price of incarnation. God suffers with us. In the Cross God absorbs everything that separates us from God: our fear and violence, our shame, our judgment, and our death― and God embraces us, with nothing in between. In the cross we exercise the power of death and violence and God receives it and transforms it, overcoming even the power of death with love. Because Jesus trusts God absolutely, and serves God fully in the cause of justice and healing, he is not afraid to face violence. Having already given his life to God, Jesus enters into life that is infinite and can’t be taken from him (this, not the afterlife, is the meaning of eternal life). On Good Friday the Resurrected One was crucified.

To contemplate the cross is to behold our sin, God’s grace, and our calling all at once. To take up your cross is to willingly surrender your life to God, die to your old self, and allow yourself to be raised—re-created—as a new person, like dust that God breathes new life into. And to take up your cross is to be willing to suffer for the sake of love and justice.


Lament

The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken heart.

Lent is not only about repentance; it’s also a time to lament. The Ashes of Ash Wednesday evoke not only our sin and our mortality; they also speak of our sorrow. We are sorry for our sinfulness; and we are sorry for the suffering of the world. We join Jesus lamenting over Jerusalem. Repentance is never just a personal thing; it’s a communal movement. Our whole society needs to repent of our injustice. To begin, we need to lament, to let our hearts be broken by the suffering of the world, with Jesus weeping over Jerusalem (Lk. 19.41-42). It’s easier to make pronouncements about the world’s problems than to stand (or sit) with the people who suffer because of those problems. Let them have a voice in your confession and repentance: those who suffer because of racism, poverty, violence, sexism, heterosexism, consumerism, mass incarceration, the climate crisis, the assault on democracy… Of course the list goes on and on, and you don’t want your worship to be nothing but grievance. But don’t overlook our need to lament and grieve with those who are the crucified ones among us.


Lent: Living beyond death

The story of Lent is the salvation story. Salvation doesn’t mean going to heaven after we die. It means being rescued from the power of self-centeredness that rules our lives. Just as the Hebrews were slaves in Egypt, we are slaves to sin and death. Sin works in us in ways we can’t seem to control, and death creates bounds for our lives that we can’t escape. But just as Moses led the people out of slavery in Egypt, Jesus delivers us from slavery to our self-centeredness. In his death and resurrection we see the grace that sets us free from the power that sin and our fear of death have over us. Jesus leads us to life in Infinite Love.

During Lent the scripture lessons will take us through the unfolding of death and new life. We go with Jesus into the desert to face our temptations (week 1), and then onward toward the cross—which is really toward resurrection. Jesus invites us to take up our cross (week 2): to be willing to suffer for the sake of love. He scourges the temple of the religion of being right (in offering sacrifices) and invites us to imagine a temple of love (week 3). We contemplate the wisdom of the “foolish” cross, acknowledging that God’s ways aren’t like ours. We give thanks for God’s judgment of light, that we’re saved by grace, as the Son of God is “lifted up”—that is, both exalted and crucified (week 4). Jesus reminds us that we are to die as seeds do so that we can bear fruit. By God’s grace, we learn to live the resurrection life (week 5). We are ready for Easter.


The Eucharist in Lent
In my Methodist tradition we’re accustomed to celebrating communion once a month. There’s no theological reason for this. It’s just because three centuries ago the only ordained clergy who could preside over the sacrament was a circuit rider who was only in town once a month or so. For most of history, and still in many denominations, the Eucharist is a regular part of weekly worship. If you’re a member of the once-a-month club, I encourage you to consider offering communion weekly during Lent or Easter or both. The Eucharist speaks to Lent: it replicates the meal Jesus shared the day before he surrendered to the cross. It touches on Lenten themes like repentance, grace, transformation, and reconciliation. Of course it is a Resurrection meal— but resurrection is what draws us to the cross: the promise that when we give our lives in love God gives us new ones.

Resources

See Eucharistic Responses for eleven sets of prayer responses (Sanctus, Memorial Acclamation and Amen) set to familiar hymn tunes appropriate for Lent. Two of them include Table Songs, hymns of invitation to the table.

Lent is also a season for the Kyrie: Kyrie eleison. Christe eleison. Kyrie eleison. (“Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord have mercy.”) See Kyrie, Six Versions, all original tunes. Some are part of Eucharistic settings.


Behold the Lamb of God (Original song)
A short prayer song, may be a repeated chant.

Behold the lamb of God,
who takes away the sin of the world.
Come, let us follow the lamb of God,
who takes away the sin of the world.

The Jesus Prayer (Original song)
A short prayer song, may be a repeated chant.

Jesus, Beloved of God, have mercy on me, for I need you.

A Palm/Passion Liturgy Based on Mark

This service is essentially a dramatic reading of the Palm procession and Passion story as a liturgy . The elements of worship are not in the usual liturgical order, but close. They’re arranged to fit the story line, so that it feels more like storytelling than liturgy.

You’ll see (MUSIC) in several places. They are all optional. They are not crucial to the flow of of the story, but they help, These may be congregational songs, choir anthems, instrumental pieces, vocal solos or other musical items. For many of them you’ll want brief interludes or responses such as a Kyrie. (See music suggestions at the end.)

The abrupt movement from the praise and confidence of the service of the Palms to the confession and stark, reflective mood of the service of the Passion describes the story of Jesus’ last days in Jerusalem as described in Scripture, and reflects the mystery that Jesus’ majesty and power are hidden in suffering and vulnerability. The congregation, and the sanctuary itself, become parts of the drama as we move from the festal procession to the tomb, confronting the awful reality of the cross. Our praise so quickly turns to sin, our confidence to betrayal. (Therefore the tradition is that the palms we wave today will be burned to provide the ashes for our Ash Wednesday worship next year.) Yet as the story of the Passion unfolds through the worship service, we hear the redemptive Word of God’s grace. Even in the darkness of crucifixion, we hear the promise of resurrection.

You’ll see (MUSIC) in several places. They are all optional. They are not crucial to the flow of of the story, but they help, These may be congregational songs, choir anthems, instrumental pieces, vocal solos or other musical items. For many of them you’ll want brief interludes or responses such as a Kyrie. (See music suggestions at the end.)

You can download this .zip file which contains:
1. Worship order to be printed or projected for the congregation
2. Complete Script
3. Pulpit script for readers

—————————————— The Palms ———————————————

PRELUDE

The Entry — Mark 11. 1-11
Reader: …. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed shouted:
Hosanna! Hosanna! Save us, we beseech you!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Blessed is the coming of the kingdom of our ancestor, David!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!

THE PROCESSION

(MUSIC)

CHILDREN’S TIME

THE PSALTER — Psalm 118

PRAYER OF THE DAY
We praise you and thank you, O God, for the great acts of love by which you have redeemed us through your son, Jesus Christ, our Lord. Grant that we may ever hail him as ruler of our lives, and share in his obedience to your will, in joy and confidence. Blessed is the one who comes in your name! Peace on earth and glory in the highest! Grant us your salvation, we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

(MUSIC)

—————————————— The Passion ———————————————

The Anointing    — Mark 14. 1-9

SERMON
The Preparation — (Mark 14. 12-21)
Narrator— It was the first day of Unleavened Bread, when the Passover lamb is sacrificed. Jesus’ disciples came to him.
Congregation— Where do you want us to go and make preparations for you to eat the Passover.
Jesus— Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you; follow him, and wherever he enters, say to the owner of the house, “The Teacher asks, ‘Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’” He will show you a large room upstairs, furnished and ready. Make preparations for us there.
Congregation— So the disciples set out and went to the city, and found everything as he had told them; and they prepared the Passover meal.
Narrator— When it was evening, Jesus came with the twelve. And when they had taken their places and were eating, Jesus spoke to them.
Jesus— Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me, one who is eating with me.
Congregation— Surely, not I? Is it I, Lord? Am I the one?
Jesus— It is one of the twelve, one who is dipping bread into the bowl with me.

(MUSIC)

The Meal — Mark 14. 22-25

EUCHARISTIC PRAYER … THE LORD’S PRAYER

SHARING THE PEACE

SHARING THE HOLY MEAL

The Promise — (Mark. 14. 26-31)

Narrator— When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.
Jesus— You will all become deserters; for it is written, “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.” But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.
Congregation— Even though all become deserters, I will not.
Jesus— Truly I tell you, this day, this very night, before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times
Congregation— Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.

The Prayers Mark 14. 32-41

(MUSIC)

THE PRAYERS OF THE PEOPLE

(MUSIC)

The Arrest — Mark 14. 43-52

THE OFFERING

The Trial — Mark 14. 53-65

(MUSIC)

The Denial — Mark 14. 66-72

PRAYER OF CONFESSION
Merciful God, we confess that we have betrayed you. We are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. We have sinned in thought, word and deed, by what we have done and what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbor as ourselves. By the grace of our gentle Christ Jesus, have mercy upon us, O God. Heal us, forgive us, renew us and lead us so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways by the power of your Holy Spirit. Amen.
SILENT PRAYERS OF CONFESSION … THE WORD OF GRACE

(MUSIC)

The Sentence (Mark 15.1- 15; Isaiah 53.4-6; Romans 6. 3-11)

Narrator— As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate.
Pilate—Are you the King of the Jews?
Jesus— You say so.
Narrator— Then the chief priests accused him of many things.
Pilate— Have you no answer? See how many charges they bring against you!
Narrator— Jesus made no further reply, so that Pilate was amazed. Now at the festival he used to release a prisoner for them, anyone for whom they asked.  Now a man called Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder during the insurrection.
Congregation— Release for us a prisoner!
Pilate— Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?
Congregation— No, give us Barabbas!
Pilate— Then what do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?
Congregation—Crucify him!
Pilate— Why, what evil has he done?
Congregation— CRUCIFY HIM!
Narrator— So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified.
Congregation— Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows. We thought he was being punished by God, but he suffered because of our sins, and was wounded by the evil we did. We all like sheep have gone astray, each one of us turning to our own way, and he has borne the sin of us all.
Pastor— All of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death and buried with him. Our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin. For whoever has died is freed from sin. But if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. So consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.

(MUSIC)

The Mocking — Mark 15.16-20

OLD TESTAMENT — Isaiah 50. 4-9

CANTICLE — Philippians 2. 5-11

The Crucifixion Mark 15. 21-24

(MUSIC)

The King of the Jews — Mark 15. 25-32

A LAMENT from Psalm 31

The Death — Mark 15. 33-39

THE STRIPPING OF THE ALTAR

The Burial — Mark 15. 40-47

[The service is ended. Go in silence.]

______________________________________

March 29, 2024

Lectionary Texts

Isaiah 52.13-53.12. “He was despised…he has borne our infirmities…he poured himself out to death.”

Psalm 22. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

Hebrews 10.16-25. “I will put my: law in their hearts and remember their sins no more” Enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus… Provoke one another to love.

John 18.1-19.42. The Passion story

Preaching Thoughts

Isaiah
        The prophet speaks from the perspective of a belief that God is a character who punishes us, uses us, and in general intervenes in our lives more intrusively than I think is true. God is love, and love doesn’t “strike down” anybody. I see it that “we accounted him stricken, struck down by God.” He wasn’t—but we blame it on God. It was us, all right, not God, who treated him badly. This description is not just of Jesus—in fact it’s not about him at all, since it was written 500 years before Jesus came along. It’s about the sorrows of anyone who enters into the suffering of the world, because that’s what God does. Love bears the wounds of others, enters into their suffering, and accepts the lowest place— often despised, abused, blamed and condemned. This description might fit anyone in our society who is oppressed, but the servant of God, by being in solidarity with the oppressed, enters into this suffering willingly. And, significantly, the servant of God accepts suffering not just for piety’s sake, but to bring about justice, and does it nonviolently.

Psalm
        I’ve heard way to many preachers say when Jesus was crucified God looked away because God just couldn’t bear it. Baloney. God is not that fragile. Plenty of people suffer more deeply, for longer, than Jesus did, and God never looks away from us when we suffer. When Jesus cries out “Why have you forsaken me?” he’s not complaining that he’s been abandoned. He (or more likely the gospel writer) is quoting Palm 22, which identifies that awful feeling of absolute aloneness in the depths of our sufferings, but goes on to proclaim God’s loving, faithful presence even there: “God, you did not hide your face from me, but heard when I cried to you.” Jesus’ cry from the cross was not despair, but hope. And when we hear him cry out in this anguish, it tells us even God knows what it feels like to be abandoned by God. And God is with us even in our deepest aloneness.

John
        I don’t preach on Good Friday. I let the story tell itself. Especially if the story is not set up as God’s weird little scheme to get Jesus killed so God would have the magic key to save us (from God’s own punishment). What we see is the plight of someone caught up in a power system that’s threatened. Jesus is no different from every unjustly accused and imprisoned person, every victim of violence, abuse, discrimination, racism, sexism, heterosexism, or condemnation or exclusion of any kind. The victim is blamed. The system goes on. Power is maintained. When we see Jesus as the victim of human injustice, not just a pawn in God’s game, we see the enormity of both our sin and God’s forgiveness. The saving grace—what makes “Good Friday” so good—is not how much Jesus suffers (many people suffer more than that) but how deeply Jesus forgives. He forgives the very people who are torturing him to death! “By a perversion of justice he is taken away”—yet he endures it nonviolently, with love and mercy. We are saved from our fear of death, our fear of The Powers, even our fear of both God and our separation from God—for God will indeed be with us and for us even in the worst of our behavior. The key to a good Good Friday service is to embed this vision of nonviolent mercy in the early part of the service (if you’re going to preach, do it early)—and then let the story tell itself.

Call to Worship

1.
Loving One, we who cried “Hosanna”
are now shouting “Crucify!”
God, have mercy.
Christ in love bears the pain of our sin,
and yet forgives us.
Christ, have mercy.
Holy Spirit, be with us
as we behold the mystery of the cross.
God, have mercy.

2.
Gracious God, held in your love,
we come to witness the depth of the human struggle,
the great wound of being human,
the suffering of the world.
Held in your love, we come to the cross.
We come to touch our sorrow,
and that of all who mourn,
the broken heart of humanity.
Held in your love, we come to the cross.
We come to face the depth of our sin,
the reach of our violence,
the terror of our injustice.
Held in your love, we come to the cross.
And we come to behold your infinite love:
for in our evil you forgive;
in our loneliness you embrace us;
in our death you accompany us.
Held in your love, we come to the cross.
God have mercy, as we behold the mystery of your grace.

3.
Christ, our Savior, we come to witness.
Christ, our friend, we come to mourn
Christ, our victim, we come to repent.
Christ, our Savior, we come to worship.
Christ have mercy. God have mercy. Amen.

Opening Prayer

1.
God of love, look with mercy upon your beloved people, for whom Christ was willing to suffer. Delivered into our hands, he bore our sin in his body and our anguish in his soul. In him we behold the fullness of our human weakness and your divine grace, your vulnerability for us, your forgiveness, and your life-giving love. By your grace may we find healing, liberation from our sin, and new life in you, that we may walk in your ways, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to your eternal glory. Amen.

2.
God of grace, hold us in your love as we behold the mystery of the cross. Here in grace you touch our sorrows; you bear our wounds. Here in grace you accept our sin; you suffer our evil. Here in grace you accompany us in our loneliness; you share our death. And here in grace you meet injustice with mercy; you meet evil with healing; you meet fear with love; you meet death with life. God of grace, hold us in your love as we behold the mystery of the cross.

Other Prayers

1.
God of Truth, keep always in our minds your love for us, and our love for you. Deliver us from our fear of speaking out for justice and standing with those who are oppressed. Forgive us for tolerating injustice and wrong. Give us the strength to confront evil and to proclaim your grace, in the spirit of Christ. Amen.

2.
God of mercy, deliver us from our fear in which we judge others. We pray for all who are oppressed, imprisoned, persecuted or rejected. To you who have delivered us from slavery we pray for the faith and courage to work for justice and the freedom of your children, and to proclaim the good news of your grace. Amen.

3.
Jesus, Healer of so many hearts and spirits and bodies, on this day you do not claim your equality with God, but rather you choose to become vulnerable for us, vulnerable even to death, death on a cross. Even in our deepest shame and hurt you are present with us. Even in our death you offer us life. By this mystery set us free from fear and shame; set us free from sin and sorrow; set us free from the powers of evil. We pray for the sake of new life, in the name and the spieit of the crucified Christ. Amen.

4.
Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world.
Have mercy on us.
O Christ, in your humility, your struggle and your suffering,
give us courage, Beloved, and redeem the suffering of the poor.
In your weakness, rejection and humiliation, your crown of
thorns, your bitter death and your resting in the grave,
you accompany those who suffer, who are in sorrow or who are alone,
who face death or who know injustice.
In your steadfast love and forgiveness,
receive our sins, God, set us free, and grant us peace.
In your kindness in the face of evil,
give us trust in the power of love.
By the mystery of your grace in the face of violence,
show us your way, O Loving One.
Put to death all that is evil in us,
that we may never judge, blame or harm your children;
that we may resist evil, injustice and oppression
in whatever forms they present themselves;
that we may bear your love to the world.
Grant that we may die with Christ; and raise us to new life.
Into your hands we commit our spirit.
We pray for your holy Church, the Body of Christ.
Impart to us the Spirit of gentleness and peace,
the Spirit of compassion and forgiveness,
the Spirit of justice and freedom for all.
By the grace of the crucified Christ, may we learn your way of love.
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.

5.
O Christ, give us faith to trust your presence in our struggles.
Give us grace to face our trials with love and courage.
O Christ, in your humility, your struggle and your suffering,
give comfort and healing to all who suffer.
We pray for all who are afflicted in body, mind or spirit.
For the hungry, the homeless, the destitute and the poor.
For the sick, and those who struggle with addiction.
For those in loneliness, fear and anguish.
For those who face temptation, doubt or despair.
For relationships that are strained and spirits that are broken.
For the sorrowful and bereaved, and all who experience loss.
For all who are oppressed, abused, or exploited.
For prisoners, and those who face cruelty, torture or execution.
For refugees, immigrants and all victims of war.
We pray for all who exercise power in the world.
We pray that your Empire of Grace may prevail
over the empires of privilege, exclusion and violence.
In your mercy, God, comfort and heal your Beloved children.
In Christ on the cross you are present with them.
Grant all your beloved people trust in your love,
and stir up in us the grace to minister to their needs.

Listening Prayer

(suitable as a Collect, preparation for hearing scriptures, or invitation to prayer)

Christ,
nailed to the cross of my heart,
I behold your love.

Readings

1. Dramatization of John 18.38 – 19.16

Pilate went out to the people again and told them, “I find no case against him. But you have a custom that I release someone for you at the Passover. Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?”
People: Not this man, but Barabbas!
Now Barabbas was a bandit. Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. And the soldiers wove a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and they dressed him in a purple robe. They kept coming up to him, saying, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and striking him on the face. Pilate went out again and said to them, “Look, I am bringing him out to you to let you know that I find no case against him.” So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. Pilate said to them, “Here is the man!”
Crucify him! Crucify him!
Pilate said to them, “Take him yourselves and crucify him; I find no case against him.”
We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die because he has claimed to be the Son of God.
Now when Pilate heard this, he was more afraid than ever. He entered his headquarters again and asked Jesus, “Where are you from?” But Jesus gave him no answer. Pilate therefore said to him, “Do you refuse to speak to me? Do you not know that I have power to release you, and power to crucify you?” Jesus answered him, “You would have no power over me unless it had been given you from above; therefore the one who handed me over to you is guilty of a greater sin.” From then on Pilate tried to release him, but the people cried out.
If you release this man, you are no friend of the emperor. Everyone who claims to be a king sets himself against the emperor.
Pilate brought Jesus outside and sat on the judge’s bench at a place called The Stone Pavement, or in Hebrew Gabbatha. Now it was the day of Preparation for the Passover; and it was about noon. He said to the people, “Here is your King!”
Away with him! Away with him! Crucify him!
Shall I crucify your King?
We have no king but the emperor.
Then he handed him over to them to be crucified.

2. Adapted from Psalm 31
In you, O God I seek refuge
Into your hands I commend my spirit, O God.
Into your hands I commit my life.
You are my safety, my freedom. Save me from the traps that ensnare me.
In your mercy rescue me,
for you are my strength and have the power to raise me up!
For all my enemies I am an object of reproach,
a laughingstock to my neighbors, and a dread to my friends.
I have become like a broken vessel.
Into your hands I commend my spirit, O God.
Into your hands I commit my life.
I hear the voices around me whispering of my plight –
fears rise up on every side!
Loneliness surrounds me; I fear it will overwhelm me.
Still I trust in You, O Loving God. I repeat, “You are my Life.”
My life is in your hands; deliver me from the clutches of my enemies.
Let your face shine on me, your servant; deliver me in your kindness.
People, be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who hope in God.
Into your hands I commend my spirit, O God.
Into your hands I commit my life.

Suggested Songs

(Click on titles to view, and hear an audio clip, on the Music page)


Kyrie – Six Versions (The traditional words set to six original tunes.)

Kyrie Eleison. Christe Eleison. Kyrie Eleison.
(“Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy. Lord haver mercy.”)


Behold the Lamb of God (Original song)

Behold the lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.
Come, let us follow, come let us follow
the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.


O Jesus, Wounded Sovereign (Tune: O Sacred Head Now Wounded)

Dear Jesus, you who suffer and walk among the poor
whose hearts and lives are broken, whose faith is still unsure:
despised, accused and battered, you do not say a word.
So powerless, yet loving!— you are my Sovereign Lord.

You bear no arms but loving, no threats nor flags unfurled.
You wear no kingly robes, but the sorrows of the world.
Yet your forgiveness conquers each worldly rule and reign,
and rises, whole, undaunted, from evil, death and pain.

While emperors abuse you, and people shrug or stare,
and dark injustice troubles the ones for whom you care,
your mighty grace arises, and hidden from our sight,
enfolds all living beings in your triumphant light.

O Jesus, wounded Sovereign, I pray, give me the nerve
without this world’s armor to love and bless and serve.
My master and companion, rule all eternity
with grace and deep compassion, and, Love, begin with me.


Oh, Jesus (Original song— an acapella solo)

Oh, Jesus, what have you done?
Carried my burdens, every one,
All of my sorrow, all of my sin,
Like a mother gathering her children in.
Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
Nothin’ but your tender, tender love.

Oh, Jesus, what have I done?
Crucified my precious one.
I didn’t want to bear the pain or loss,
So I left you alone to carry the cross.
Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
Nothin’ but your sufferin’, sufferin’, love.

Oh, Jesus, what will you do?
Forgive me like you always do.
With not a word of wrath or blame,
You died with love gently sayin’ my name.
Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
Nothin’ but your precious, precious love.

Oh, Jesus, what will I do?
Give me the courage to follow you,
To give my love if I live or die,
And never again to crucify.
For I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
Nothin’ but your dyin’, dyin’ love


Woeful Cross (Original song)

Woeful cross, saddest wood, death in me of all that’s good,
I confess. Mother/Father, bless. Mercy.

Holy cross, mystery, love from fear of death set free.
Sin’s dark lie. Here I die. Mercy.

Gentle Christ on the cross, for our life your own life’s loss.
You forgive, and we live. Mercy.

Our own cross calling us to your love and gentleness:
may we live, as you give, mercy.