This summer, in our worship we have planted, opened to the light, reached into the depths, weeded, pruned, watered, tended, bloomed, and we have produced fruit. It has not been always easy work.
This Sunday, we’ll sing! We’ll come to the garden, build our hopes, and pause to consider all the works that God has made. We will acknowledge troubles but rise with eagles wings. We will feast at God’s table as we share communion, and remember how Jesus gave up his life, but not his hope, or ours, but instead danced as life that does not die. We will not leave until we have asked God once again to show us the vision, and recommitted ourselves, here and now to that vision. (There are my not-so subtle clues to the hymns we’ll be singing. How many can you guess?) We will sing, our hopes, our faith, our love.
I’ll see you on Sunday,