Readings
Springtime
As we gather in this springtime of marbles and piracies,
hop-scotch and jump-rope, we look forward to the coming
summer – the lengthening of the days, and the warmth of promise.
But we remember also the winter just gone, and the seeming
barrenness of the sleeping earth, and we think too of the seasons
and faces
Lost
Think of a time when you were lost
A time as a child when you wandered away from your parents
When you took the wrong turn and your surroundings were no longer familiar
Or when you were in a wilderness without a well worn path
Or in a deep dense fog without a horizon or
Tree hugger blues
You’re rough around the edges,
Sharp as a knife.
But I love you anyway
‘Cuz you’re good,
So damn good.
Come out an’ play –
I don’t care what people say!
I love you anyway
‘Cuz you’re good.
Honey, you’re hard as old nails
And oh-so-male.
But I love you anyway
‘Cuz you’re good,
So
Heavy Baggage
Words of the Muslim Sufi Mystic Jelaluddin Rumi
“We worship devoutly when we’re with others . . . as minerals in the ground rise inside trees and become a tree, as a plant faces an animal and enters the animal, so a human can put down the heavy body baggage and be light”
Let us pray
In these
Grandfather God
Grandfather God, who trails beards of moss over the rocks and the trees, and decks the bushes in autumn with hairy seed cases – You are not an authority figure but a playmate.
We come to your house on holy days to play hide-and-seek, sing lustily, and have tea and cakes. Your wisdom is of
Oh source of all beauty
May we see the beauty in the humble and unexpected:
the patient spider and the wayside flower,
the daisy and the buttercup;
the wheeling of silver birds against a leaden sky.
May we manifest the sacred art of love
in all our words and deeds,
and to forgive ourselves and begin again when we fail.
We come together this morning
We come together this morning, seeking a reality beyond our narrow selves; that binds us in compassion, love, and understanding to other human beings, and to the interdependent web of all living things.
May our hearts and minds be opened this hour, to the power and the insight that weaves together the scattered threads of our
Christmas eternal
There will always be Herods in this world: Petty men in large palaces, Murderers of dreams. And there will always be a little Herod in us, scribbling decrees on our map of the Heavens.
There will always be Magi in this world: Followers of the tiny spark, those who will go to the ends of the