Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son;
endless is the victory Thou o’er death hast won.
Angels in bright raiment rolled the stone away,
kept the folded grave-clothes where Thy body lay.

Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son;
endless is the victory Thou o’er death hast won.

By Monday morning the Easter eggs are on sale and the boom in chocolate sales is passed. But Easter is forever. Jesus is risen! Death is defeated! The best hymns push us back into Scripture, and this hymn picks up the detail in John’s Gospel of angels left looking after carefully folded grave clothes. In John, Jesus speaks of being glorified in his death, and rising again. Easter glory blazes with life, and grave clothes are now redundant. Christian faith is a resurrection faith in the living Lord!

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Father forgive

Luke 23:34 Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.

Father forgive, and so forgiveness flows;

Flows from the very wound our hatred makes,

Flows through the taunts, the curses and the blows,

Flows through our wasted world, a healing spring,

Welling and cleansing, washing all the marks

Away, the scores and scars of every wrong.

Forgiveness flows to where we need it most:

Right in the pit and smithy of our sin,

Just where the dreadful nails are driven in,

Just where our woundedness has done its worst.

We know your cry of pain should be a curse,

Yet turn to you and find we have been blessed.

We know not what we do, but Heaven knows

For every sin on earth, forgiveness flows.

Malcolm Guite

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson

Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Our Father, who waits with patient love and runs to meet us as soon as we turn to return to you, we pray for all those who today are feeling lost, unloved, unwanted, far away from the love and safety of a community.

Those whose lives have slowly broken down into loneliness and loss of love - May they discover the friendship and acceptance of Jesus and his followers, including us.

Those who no longer have a home and safe space in which to live - May they find welcome and support in the company of Jesus and his followers, including us.

Those who struggle against the inner anguish of depression, loss of meaning and purpose in their life - May they recover hope and strength to go on because they are cared for, and looked after by those whose compassion, like God’s love, never gives up on them,

Those who are travelling in the far country of grief and loss, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar landscape of their life - May they know the strong comfort of faithful friends, the accompanying love of God who knows their sorrow and shares the burden of the days.

Father, we all know people who are struggling, who are in the far country, and who want to find their way back to a life of safety, community and welcome. God of compassion, we bring each of them into our minds and hearts, and so into the presence and reality of your grace, and peace and love in Christ. 

May they each discover the outstretched arms of your welcome, and recover a new sense of their own place in your love, and in the communities of Jesus and his followers, here in this church, and in all the gathered communities of Christ, in whose name we pray. Amen

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

I think there is no suffering greater than
what is caused by the doubts of those who want to believe. 
I know what torment this is, but I can only see it, 
in myself anyway, as the process by which faith is deepened. 
What people don’t realize is how much religion costs. 
They think faith is a big electric blanket, 
when of course it is the cross. 
It is much harder to believe than not to believe. 
If you feel you can’t believe, you must at least do this: 
keep an open mind. 
Keep it open toward faith, 
keep wanting it, 
keep asking for it, 
and leave the rest to God.

~Flannery O’Connor from The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O'Connor 

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

In some sense it always Advent, even now in Lent. We are pilgrims, ever leaning into the future. We are always waiting. Yet. Yet we are living now, in this precise moment. It is all we have. The past has slipped through our fingers, the future is for the moment unknowable. It can feel like we are merely marking time, or enduring the storms that rage. Yet. Yet we can live, not simply wrapped in our own thoughts, but awake to the needs that present themselves now, awake to each other, awake to God…
Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Grace and peace be yours in abundance.
1 Peter 1:2

Or as in another translation, “Grace and peace be yours to the fullest measure.” Grace and peace, as much as you can contain, and then God expands your capacity! Grace is God’s self-giving in Christ, undeserved, utterly unlooked for, free, but always seeking the response of an answering love of grateful glad obedience. Peace is that pervasive sense that nothing can separate us from God’s love, and that God’s grace is sufficient whatever comes our way. These are the signs of God’s work within and among the people of God. Chosen, once strangers, perhaps scattered, but graced with peace.

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Immortal, invisible, God only wise, 
In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,
Most blessèd, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,
Almighty, victorious, thy great Name we praise.

Worship is a balance between intimacy and awe. Praise is the recognition of God’s glory, the acknowledgement of our limited understanding, and a celebration of God’s grace, wisdom, mercy and love. This verse is a confession of the heart that God is beyond our grasp, his purposes are from everlasting to everlasting. In a world of flux and uncertainty, when our hearts are anxious and life seems uncertain, take time to look beyond the horizons of our sight to the only wise God, the Ancient of Days.

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Marked by Ashes
 
Ruler of the Night, Guarantor of the day…
This day — a gift from you.
This day — like none other you have ever given, or we have ever received.
This Wednesday dazzles us with gift and newness and possibility.
This Wednesday burdens us with the tasks of the day, for we are already halfway home
     halfway back to committees and memos,
     halfway back to calls and appointments,
     halfway on to next Sunday,
     halfway back, half frazzled, half expectant,
     half turned toward you, half rather not.
This Wednesday is a long way from Ash Wednesday,
   but all our Wednesdays are marked by ashes —
     we begin this day with that taste of ash in our mouth:
       of failed hope and broken promises,
       of forgotten children and frightened women,
     we ourselves are ashes to ashes, dust to dust;
     we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues.
We are able to ponder our ashness with
   some confidence, only because our every Wednesday of ashes
   anticipates your Easter victory over that dry, flaky taste of death.
On this Wednesday, we submit our ashen way to you —
   you Easter parade of newness.
   Before the sun sets, take our Wednesday and Easter us,
     Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom;
     Easter us that we may be fearless for your truth.
   Come here and Easter our Wednesday with
     mercy and justice and peace and generosity.
We pray as we wait for the Risen One who comes soon.
 
Walter Brueggemann

Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Giving Grace

Don't save up and hoard your grace,
don't wait to give to yourself
or others. Like honey in the tombs
of pharaohs, it will remain usable
for thousands of years, but you don't
want to get caught letting it build up
and crystallize in you. Offer it freely
on the street to anyone you meet,
during every argument, when a wave
of shame high as a king tide tries
to engulf you. Pry open the jar
and pass it around, this sweet grace
of forgiveness, of saying to yourself:
we're all just doing the best we can.

James Crews

 
Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson
Pastor for Spiritual Formation

Terrible things are happening in the world, and as sometimes it is more than I can take in, I am seeking refuge this morning in hope.

To live in hope is to thirst. To thirst for justice, for mercy, for healing, for welcome, for peace. To hope is to build up, not tear apart. St. Augustine wrote that the courage to challenge injustice was a daughter of hope. To live in hope, then, is to stretch my heart wide enough to encompass the needs of my neighbors as my own, to feed the hungry, house the homeless and welcome the refugee. “We are workers,” said St. Oscar Romero, “We are prophets of a future not our own.” 

Fear is the antithesis of hope. Fear seethes and rails. It preaches ruin and destruction; it deafens us to reality. Fear is a failure to see what is possible, a failure to see the worth and dignity of everyone I encounter. Yet fear clings like tar, I confess I cannot easily shake it off.  There is a reason, I suspect, that the phrase “Do not be afraid!” appears again and again in the Gospels. To live in hope is to turn down the volume on the rhetoric that demonizes others and tune in to the voices that call us to companion each other, as Jesus has promised to accompany us.

 Hope is not fragile, nor is it always gentle. Sometimes it is a bit gritty. But it is always a grace. Thanks be to God.

 Grace and peace,

Anita Sorenson

Pastor for Spiritual Formation