Sunday, March 15, 2026

Today's Worship Service - Sunday, March 15, 2026

 

Worship Service for March 15, 2026

Prelude

Announcements:  

Call to Worship

L:      I will sing of Your steadfast love forever, O Lord.

P:      I will proclaim Your faithfulness to all generations.

L:      I will declare that Your love stand firm forever.

P:      Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne;

L:      Love and faithfulness go before You.

P:      Blessed are they who have learned to acclaim You and blessed are they who walk in the light of Your presence.

 

Opening Hymn –  Jesus Walked This Lonesome Valley        #80 Blue

Prayer of Confession

Compassionate Lord, forgive us when we falter on this Lenten pathway; when the road ahead seems too uncertain and we are afraid.  We admit that following Jesus in not an easy task.  Jesus requires us to be willing to make the ultimate commitment of our whole lives and we hesitate and hold back.  Draw us back to You, Lord.  Give us confidence and courage to face the future with hope.  Let us place our trust in You that the message of peace and mercy You have given to us through Jesus Christ may be offered to others through our own witness to Your healing mercy.  (Silent prayers are offered)  AMEN.

Assurance of Pardon

L:      Hear the Good News; Jesus, having been made perfect, became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey Him.  And so, I declare to you: in Jesus Christ, we are renewed, we are cleansed, we are forgiven.

P:      Praise God for His mercy!

 

Gloria Patri

Affirmation of Faith/Apostles’ Creed

I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth; And in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord; who was conceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; He descended into hell; the third day He rose again from the dead; He ascended into heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Ghost, the holy catholic Church; the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of the body; and the life everlasting.  AMEN

 

Pastoral Prayer and Lord’s Prayer

O unseen yet ever-present God, we come to you in awe and wonder.  Though we cannot see you, we are surrounded by signs of your presence; in a perfectly formed lily, in the laughter of a friend, in the need of a stranger. Give us spiritual eyesight and insight so that we may see you at work in the world around us. 

         Today we pray for those in particular who are struggling with doubt, whose faith journeys seem to be uphill battles.  May they find in you a home where doubts are accepted as acts of faith on the path toward wholeness and peace.

         We also remember those who suffer in any way.  We pray for the victims of abuse, oppression and terror, those who feel helpless or deserted, those who are sick and for their caregivers, and all those who grieve great loss.  May they know your presence even when they feel most alone.

         Today, we especially lift up to you….

         Hear us Lord, in these moments of silence, as our hearts and spirits pray to you….

         Lead each of us, Lord, to someone in need, so that we may show the love of Christ, who in boldness taught us to pray to you, saying…Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be Thy name.  Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.  Give us this day our daily bread.  Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.  And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.  For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever.  AMEN.

 

Hymn –  Jesus Paid It All                                  Hymn #305 Brown

Scripture Reading(s): 

First Scripture Reading – I Samuel 16:1-13

Second Scripture Reading – John 9:1-41

Sermon –  Seeing What God Sees
(based on 1 Samuel 16:1–13 & John 9:1–41)

There’s a theme that runs through both of our readings this morning, and it has to do with seeing.  Not simply seeing with our eyes, but seeing with the deeper vision of the heart.  In the reading from 1 Samuel, the prophet Samuel is sent to Bethlehem to anoint a new king.  If you remember this Old Testament story, you’ll remember that Saul, the first anointed King of Israel, has failed God and the nation of Israel as their king.  God tells Samuel, the prophet in Israel, to go to the house of Jesse.  One by one Jesse’s sons pass before him.  The oldest looks strong and capable.  Surely this must be the one.  But God interrupts Samuel’s assumptions and says:

“Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature… for the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”

One by one the sons of Jesse pass by until finally the youngest—the one that no one even thought to invite to this parade of remarkable young men—is brought in from the fields.  This son, the youngest and perhaps less remarkable is the shepherd boy.  The overlooked one.  David.  And God says to Samuel, “Rise and anoint him.”

Evidently, God sees something that everyone else has missed.  Now, let’s move to the Gospel of John, where Jesus encounters a man who has been blind from birth.  To help them understand the mindset of God, the disciples immediately begin a theological debate.  “Rabbi, who sinned? This man or his parents?”  Someone must be to blame.  Someone must deserve this.  In those day’s and maybe even today, people think that tragedy comes to those who deserve it, who aren’t blessed by God, who are outside God’s protection – due to sin or something else.

But Jesus refuses that way of seeing the world.  Instead, he heals the man.  The one who had never seen suddenly sees for the first time in his life.  But the story quickly reveals that the real blindness is not physical blindness at all.  The real blindness belongs to the religious leaders, and even the disciples, who either can’t or simply refuse to see what God is doing right in front of them.

And by the end of the story the irony is pretty clear: The man who once was blind now sees clearly.  And the ones who believed they could see remain blind.

Like in our Old Testament Reading, Samuel almost missed David because he was looking for the obvious choice.  The tall one.  The strong one.  The impressive one.  But God has never been much impressed with our measurements of success.  God tends to look somewhere else.  God looks toward the margins.  Toward those who are overlooked.  Toward the ones no one expects.  And here, the youngest son becomes king.  And in John, the blind beggar becomes the one who understands Jesus better than all the scholars, scribes, and Pharisees.

This pattern runs all through the Bible.  God chooses Moses, who insists he cannot speak well.  God calls Jeremiah, who says he is too young.  God works through Mary, a teenage girl in an occupied land.
God raises up fishermen, tax collectors, and outsiders to change the world.

God keeps choosing the people we would overlook.

That divine pattern, set by God, should make us pause for a moment and ask: What are we missing because we are looking at the wrong things?

The story in John’s Gospel exposes something about human nature. We like explanations that make us comfortable.  When the disciples see the blind man, they ask, “Who sinned?”  Because if suffering can be blamed on someone, then we can keep our world neat and orderly.  If we can identify the cause, then maybe we can keep the problem at a safe distance from ourselves.

         Jesus refuses that conversation entirely.  Instead of debating the man’s condition, Jesus restores him.  Instead of analyzing the suffering, Jesus brings healing.  And suddenly the religious establishment is uncomfortable.  Because if God is doing something new or different than they expected, then their categories and assumptions may no longer hold.

Sometimes the greatest blindness is the inability to recognize that God may be at work in places we didn’t expect.  One of the striking things in so many of these healing stories is that the obstacle standing between someone in need and Jesus is often the crowd of religious people around him.

There is a similar story about a blind man in Mark, whose name was Bartimaeus.  In that story, the followers of Jesus tried to even silence the blind man who cried out for mercy.  The very people closest to Jesus were the ones blocking access to him.  And that alone should give the church pause.  Because sometimes we can become the very people who unintentionally stand between others and the grace of Christ.  Not because we mean to.  But because we are comfortable with things the way they are.  We are comfortable with people being in “their place.”  Even if that place is unjust, or racist, or socially and economically depressive, or even gender- biased.  As long as “they” stay there, in their lane, in their proper place, all is well.  We prefer the familiar faces.  The predictable routines.  The people who already fit neatly into our expectations.

But the Kingdom of God keeps pushing outward.  Jesus keeps stopping for the person no one else sees.

Several years ago a pastor friend of mine told a story about a church that was trying to grow. They had committees and plans and strategies for reaching the community.  One Sunday morning a man walked in off the street. His clothes were worn, and it was obvious he had been living rough for some time.  People noticed.  Some quietly wondered whether someone from the outreach committee should talk to him.  Others subtly moved their purses and belongings closer.  But an older woman in the congregation simply stood up, walked across the sanctuary, sat next to him, and handed him a hymnal.  She smiled and said, “I’m glad you’re here.”  Later she said something simple but powerful.  “We’ve been praying for God to send new people to our church. I think God just did.”  Sometimes the difference between blindness and sight is simply the willingness to see someone as God sees them.

What I love about the man in John’s Gospel is how his understanding grows.  At first he only knows this much: “The man called Jesus healed me.”  Later he says: “He must be a prophet.”  And by the end of the story, when Jesus finds him again, he says: “Lord, I believe.”

Not only does his story grow as he retells it, but his sight grows deeper and deeper.  Meanwhile the religious leaders become more and more entrenched in their blindness.  And that raises an uncomfortable question for all of us: Are we willing to keep learning how to see?  Because spiritual sight is not a one-time event.  It is a lifelong process.  God keeps opening our eyes in new ways.

What would it look like if we really began to see the world the way God sees it?  We might start noticing the people we usually pass by.  The coworker who seems fine on the outside but is quietly struggling.  The neighbor who lives alone and rarely has visitors.  The person society labels, categorizes, or dismisses.  We might begin to recognize that every single person carries a story we do not fully understand.  And perhaps most importantly, we might begin to recognize that God’s grace is already at work in their lives.

Sometimes we aren’t called to bring God somewhere new.  Sometimes we’re simply called to notice that God is already there. 

In the end, both of our readings invite us into the same prayer.

“Lord, help us to see.”  Help us to see beyond appearances.  Help us to see the people others overlook.  Help us to see the possibilities you see in each human heart.  Because the truth is, every one of us has moments of blindness.  We all carry assumptions.  We all make judgments.  We all miss things.  But the good news of the Gospel is that Christ is still in the business of opening eyes.  And when our eyes begin to open, something remarkable happens.  The world begins to look different.  We begin to notice grace in unexpected places.  We begin to see people the way God sees them.  And when that happens, we discover something beautiful about the Kingdom of God:

There is always room for one more.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

 

Offertory –

Doxology –

Prayer of Dedication –

How grateful we are, O God, for all the gifts of this life.  You have blessed us with an abundance of good things, not only fulfilling our needs, but going far beyond.  May our giving today reflect your generosity, and may it be used to further your work, both in our family of faith and throughout our community.  Through Christ, we pray.  AMEN.

Closing Hymn – I Will Sing of My Redeemer        Hymn #309

Benediction

         Go into the world, carrying the light of Christ into the darkness.  Go, with hearts full and eyes open.  Go, with eyes reflecting God’s light and hands open to share it.  May you walk in the light of Christ all the days of your life.  AMEN.

Postlude

Today's Lenten Devotion - Sunday, March 15, 2026

 

Fourth Sunday in Lent - March 15

Scripture: Luke 15:1–7

A shepherd leaves ninety-nine to search for one.

Heaven rejoices over restoration.

The math seems impractical.  Yet love is not driven by efficiency.

The lost sheep does not find its own way back.  The shepherd searches.

This is the heart of God.

The Church that reflects Christ must reflect this urgency.  Not merely welcoming those who arrive, but seeking those who feel forgotten, alienated, or wounded by the church itself.

Joy defines this parable.  Restoration is celebration.

Do we share heaven’s joy when someone returns?  Or do we quietly question their belonging?

Grace is extravagant.

Lent moves us toward Easter joy by reminding us of the joy of being found.

Reflection Questions

  1. Who feels lost in my orbit?
  2. Do I celebrate grace freely?
  3. How can I participate in restoration?

Today's Lenten Devotional - Saturday, March 14, 2026

 

Saturday – March 14

Scripture: John 13:12–15

After washing their feet, Jesus asks, “Do you understand what I have done?”

Foot washing unsettles hierarchy.  The Teacher kneels.  The Lord serves.

Discipleship mirrors this posture.

In a culture obsessed with status, kneeling feels counterintuitive.  Yet Christ’s authority is revealed in humility.

The Church must continually rediscover this.  Power in the kingdom does not elevate self; it lifts others.

Lent strips pretension.  It invites quiet service unseen by applause.

To kneel is not to diminish oneself.  It is to align with Christ.

Reflection Questions

  1. Where is God inviting me to kneel?
  2. What pride resists service?
  3. How does humility strengthen community?

Friday, March 13, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Friday, March 13, 2026

 

Friday – March 13

Scripture: Matthew 6:19–21

“Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Jesus invites examination—not guilt, but clarity.

Treasure is not only money.  It is attention.  Energy.  Affection.  Anxiety.

What occupies your imagination when you wake?  What do you defend instinctively?  What loss would undo you?

Lent gently exposes misplaced treasure.

Earthly treasure promises security but delivers fragility.  Heavenly treasure—justice, mercy, reconciliation—endures.

This is not a rejection of material life.  It is a re-ordering of priorities.

The Church must ask this corporately as well.  What do we protect?  Buildings?  Reputation? Comfort?  Or do we invest boldly in compassion, inclusion, and service?

Hearts follow treasure.

If we want hearts shaped by Christ, we must invest where Christ invests.

Reflection Questions

  1. What does my time reveal about my treasure?
  2. Where might I redirect energy toward God’s kingdom?
  3. How does generosity reshape desire?

Thursday, March 12, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Thursday, March 12, 2026

 

Thursday – March 12

Scripture: Luke 10:33–37

The Samaritan stops.

Compassion interrupts schedule.  It risks misunderstanding.  It crosses boundaries.

Jesus tells this story to reframe a legal question.  The issue is not defining neighbor.  The issue is becoming one.

The priest and Levite likely had reasons.  Fear.  Urgency.  Ritual obligation.  But compassion overrules convenience.

In our time, suffering often arrives through screens.  We scroll past images of need.  We are informed but not transformed.

The Samaritan draws near.  Compassion is proximity.

Lent invites us to notice where we have insulated ourselves from discomfort.  Whose pain do we rationalize?  Whose struggle feels inconvenient?

Mercy is costly.  It spends time and resources.  It risks vulnerability.

But in showing mercy, we resemble Christ.

Go and do likewise.

Reflection Questions

  1. Where have I passed by suffering?
  2. What keeps me distant from those in need?
  3. How can compassion become habitual rather than occasional?

Wednesday, March 11, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Wednesday, March 11

 

Wednesday – March 11

Scripture: Mark 12:28–34

“What is the greatest commandment?”

Jesus answers without hesitation: love God completely, and love your neighbor as yourself.

The scribe responds wisely, recognizing that love surpasses ritual precision.  Jesus tells him, “You are not far from the kingdom.”

Not far.

Love is the measure of proximity to God’s reign.

Yet love is not sentiment.  It is allegiance.  It is embodied commitment to the flourishing of another.  It is refusing to reduce people to caricatures.  It is choosing dignity over dismissal.

In church life, it is possible to defend doctrine passionately and yet fail at love.  It is possible to champion justice publicly and yet neglect tenderness privately.

Lent calls us back to center.

Love of God fuels love of neighbor.  Love of neighbor reveals love of God.

If love becomes abstract, it loses power.  If love becomes partisan, it loses credibility.

Christ gathers us into a love that is expansive, courageous, and practical.

The kingdom draws near wherever love becomes visible.

Reflection Questions

  1. What competes with love in my daily life?
  2. Who is difficult for me to love?
  3. How can I make love tangible today?

Tuesday, March 10, 2026

Today's Lenten Devotion - Tuesday, March 10, 2026

 

Tuesday – March 10

Scripture: Matthew 18:21–22

Peter wants clarity.  “How often should I forgive?  As many as seven times?”  Seven sounds generous.  Jesus answers with holy excess: “Not seven times, but seventy-seven.”

Forgiveness is not arithmetic.  It is orientation.

We often treat forgiveness as a transaction—offered once, maybe twice, but certainly not endlessly.  Yet Jesus reframes forgiveness as participation in God’s own mercy.

This does not trivialize harm.  Forgiveness does not erase accountability.  It does not deny boundaries.  But it refuses to let resentment become the architect of our lives.

Lent surfaces old wounds.  Some are fresh.  Some are inherited.  Some are collective—harms carried by communities and systems.  The work of reconciliation cannot happen without truth. But neither can it happen without forgiveness.

Forgiveness is not forgetting.  It is choosing not to weaponize memory.

In a polarized world, grievance becomes identity.  Christ offers a different path—freedom rooted in mercy.

We forgive because we have been forgiven.  We release because we have been released.

Seventy-seven times is not a number.  It is a posture of grace.

Reflection Questions

  1. What resentment still lingers in me?
  2. Where do I need clearer boundaries alongside forgiveness?
  3. How has God’s mercy shaped my ability to forgive?