Morning Prayer

Our morning prayer service is an opportunity to carve out space for contemplation and stillness in our otherwise busy lives. During the season of Lent, our theme is Tell Me Something Good, a time for us to consider the core teachings of Jesus and how they help us find liberation, love, mercy, and grace. Each week we'll explore this theme in different ways, grounding ourselves in the Good News.

We offer you a warm welcome, and as is our practice, we remember that the land on which we meet is, was, and always will be native land. We acknowledge those indigenous tribes to Oklahoma: the Wichitas, Caddos, Plains Apaches, and the Quapaws, as the original custodians of the land in this place. We grieve the violence done to native language, culture, and personhood, and seek to honor the sovereignty and dignity of native peoples.

Carolyn Sargent and Glenda Stansbury

During this season of Lent, we begin with the reminder that the good news really is good news. It is joyful—like fine wine saved for celebration. It grows like a mustard seed and smells like perfume poured from an alabaster jar. It tastes like bread passed endlessly through a hungry crowd. It sounds like laughter and feels like mercy. The good news is alive in the world… and within you. We invite you to settle into your seat, let your shoulders drop, and take a deep breath. Today we consider how to root ourselves in justice, mercy, and faithfulness, and we ask:

• We often think of justice on a macro scale. Are there ways to practice justice through small, daily acts? What comes to mind?
• What area of your life feels complicated right now? Could justice, faithfulness, or mercy help you find your way forward?
• What rhythms and rituals help you cultivate a life of faithfulness?

As we reflect together, remember: your whole self is welcome here.

In this moment, we invite you into silent prayer, meditation, or further contemplation of the considerations.

One: Jesus once said to a crowd, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone.” Friends, none are without sin. None of us get it right all the time. None of us can get by without God’s grace. In the Prayer of Confession, we acknowledge this truth. We put down our stones and turn to God for forgiveness. Join me in this act of transformation. Let us pray:

All:  We love to live our lives by the rules, Holy One. We love clear answers, right and wrong, and swift justice. We love to pick up stones.

One: But You show us another way. You welcome nuanced conversation and mercy over legality. You prioritize people over tradition and love over everything. Forgive us for losing sight of what really matters. Forgive us for clinging tighter to laws than to each other or to You.

All: Soften our hearts, Holy One. Root us in mercy, justice, and love. With hope for a better tomorrow, we pray. Amen.

One: God wouldn't bring you this far to leave you. God wouldn't bring you this far to let you go.
God wouldn't bring you this far to leave you. No height, nor depth, nor anything else can separate us from the love that God will show.

All: God wouldn't bring you this far to leave you. God wouldn't bring you this far to let you go.
God wouldn't bring you this far to leave you. No height, nor depth, nor anything else can separate us from the love that God will show.

[excerpt from God Wouldn't Bring You This Far to Leave You by Tom Trenney]

Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him, and he sat down and began to teach them. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery, and, making her stand before all of them, they said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground. When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, sir.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.”

Lectio divina (literally translated, divine reading) is method of meditation, reflection, and prayer often practiced with scripture, but during this season, we’ll be using poetry. As you hear and read the poem below, keep the scripture reading in mind.

The Things That Matter Most
by Rev. Sarah A. Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org

I wrecked the family car, an old gold minivan
that had traveled every inch of I-95. It had worn cushions
and an old school map in the glove box.
It held a folder full of mix CDs under the passenger seat
and every memory of every family trip,
and I wrecked it.
I called the tow truck while the engine
hissed and smoked. I called my dad,
my own apologies tripping over themselves
to get to the front of the line.
I expected to be grounded.
I expected a “How could you?”
But when I got home that night,
my dad held me close and said,
“A car is just a car, but you are my child.
The only thing that matters is that you are okay.”
And I knew it for what it was.
It was mercy. It was love.
It was the thing that mattered most.

Be Now My Vision, Hymn 451
New Century Hymnal

As you move into the remainder of the day, may you have the courage to meet anger with love, fear with hope, and pain with gentleness. May you carry with you this good news of joy that surprises, justice that overcomes, and nonviolence that transforms. And may you be the good news for someone who needs to hear it. Amen.