Sunday, July 19, 2026

Today's Worship Service - Sunday, July 19, 2026

 Worship Service for July 19, 2026

Prelude

Announcements:

Call to Worship

L:      We come from many places, carrying both our hopes and our burdens, wondering where God may be found.

P:      God is faithful to every promise and never abandons God’s people.

L:      We gather today believing that this place can become holy ground – not because of these walls, but because the living God is here among us.

P:      Surely the presence of the Lord is in this place, and we have come to worship with awe, gratitude, and joy.

L:      Come, let us worship God who meets us in our journeys, transforms ordinary moments with holy presence, and calls us into the future filled with hope.

P:      Let us worship God!

 

Opening Hymn – God of the Ages, Whose Almighty Hand #262/809

 

Prayer of Confession

Most holy and most merciful God, in Your presence we must face the sinfulness of our nature and the errors of our ways, intended and accidental.  You alone know how often we have failed by wandering from Your paths, wasting Your gifts, and underestimating Your love.  Have mercy upon us, O God, for we have broken Your requirements for justice and overlooked opportunities for kindness.  Humble us with Your truth and raise us by Your grace that we may truly be the people of Christ and the witnesses of Your Spirit.  (Silent prayers are offered)  AMEN.

Assurance of Pardon

L:      Rejoice!  God, whose love is poured over you at all times in all places, has healed your hearts and spirits.  Be people of love, joy, peace and patience, bringing hope to others.

P:      Thanks be to God for His tender love and grace.  Amen.

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

Holy God, as we enter this space of quiet and prayer, we are reminded that our prayers are sometimes one-sided.  So, today our prayer is not only for the usual things we pray for, but also for the opposite things.

We pray today not only for the sick who need your tender care and your compassion as they go through treatments and healing, but we also pray for those who are well, lest their sense of pride in their own health override Your benevolence to us.  We pray not only for the poor who struggle with daily living, face days of hunger, who worry about making ends meet, but we also pray for the rich who find it so hard to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.  We pray not only for the troubled, those who are depressed and worried about today’s difficulties, but we also pray for the favored ones, lest peace with the world be confused with the peace of God.  We pray not only for the dying, those who face terminal illnesses, cancer treatments, but we also pray for the living, since they face eternity as well.

We pray not only for the burdened but also for the casual, lest indolence rot the very soul they hope to save.  We pray for not only the President of our country and leaders around the world, but we also pray for the people of the world, because it is they who pay for misrule when it comes.  We pray not only for missionaries on foreign shores, but also for the rest of us who still don’t know that in Christ there is no east or west, north or south, but one great human family in a house that grows smaller and smaller by the years.

We pray not only for ministers of the Gospel, but also for people of the gospel, since all who believe are called to be doers of the Word and not hearers only.  We pray not only for fair weather, but also for bad weather, since nature is impartial and often prodigal, and human estimates of good and bad do not count.  We pray not only sinners to turn and be saved, but also for the rest of us who think we have no sin and are in the greater need of penitence and healing.   And finally, Lord, we pray not only for others, but also for ourselves, because salvation and righteousness begins right here, in the household of God.  We especially pray today for…

 

We pray with words spoken aloud, but also with hearts unburdened by language in this time of silence.

 

Hear us as we pray... 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 – It is Well With My Soul  #705 Brown

Scripture Reading:

First Scripture Reading –   Genesis 28:10-19a

Second Scripture Reading – Romans 8:12-25

Sermon –   Surely the Presence of the Lord is in this Place

Genesis 28:10-19a

 

There are seasons in every person's life when the ground beneath our feet seems to shift without warning, when the plans we so carefully constructed begin to unravel, and when the future that once appeared so certain suddenly feels frighteningly unclear.  It is often during those moments that we begin asking questions we rarely ask when life is comfortable.  We wonder where God is.  We wonder whether our mistakes have carried us too far from His grace.  We wonder if God can still accomplish His purposes through lives that seem marked more by failure than faithfulness.  The story of Jacob at Bethel speaks directly into those questions because it reminds us that God has a remarkable habit of revealing Himself not at the moments when we believe we have finally arrived spiritually, but in the very places where we feel most lost, most vulnerable, and most aware of our own limitations.

When Genesis 28 opens, Jacob is not embarking on an exciting adventure or setting out confidently to fulfill God's calling.  Instead, he is actually fleeing for his life.  Everything that has happened over the previous chapters has finally caught up with him.  If you don’t remember the story of Jacob, here is a quick recap: Jacob had spent much of his life trying to secure God's blessings through his own cleverness, beginning with purchasing Esau's birthright and culminating in deceiving his blind father into giving him the blessing intended for his older brother.  Although God's covenant had always rested upon Jacob according to God's own sovereign choice, Jacob never seemed content to trust God's timing.  He believed he needed to manipulate circumstances in order to accomplish what God had already promised, and in doing so he fractured his family, betrayed his brother, and found himself forced to leave behind everything that had ever given him security.

There is a certain irony in Jacob's situation because the man who had spent his life grasping for blessings now possesses almost nothing.  He leaves home with no entourage, no wealth, no comfortable accommodations awaiting him, and no certainty about what tomorrow will bring.  As the sun sets, scripture simply tells us that he stops because there is nowhere else to go.  He finds a stone to rest his head upon and falls asleep beneath the open sky.  It is difficult to imagine a more ordinary or more discouraging scene.  The grandson of Abraham, heir to God's covenant promises, spends the night sleeping in the dirt with nothing but a rock for a pillow.

If we were writing the story ourselves, we might expect God to wait until Jacob had demonstrated genuine repentance, or perhaps until he had finally reached his destination and rebuilt his life.  We sometimes mistakenly assume that God appears after people have put themselves back together, after they have corrected their mistakes, or after they have proven themselves worthy of another opportunity.  Yet the astonishing truth is that God does not wait for Jacob to become a different man before revealing Himself.  Instead, God meets Jacob precisely at the lowest point of his journey, while he is still carrying the consequences of his own deception, still uncertain about the future, and still unable to see how any of God's promises could possibly be fulfilled.

That truth runs throughout the whole of scripture because God consistently chooses to reveal His presence in places we would least expect to find Him.  Moses encountered God while tending sheep in the wilderness after forty years of obscurity.  Elijah heard the still, small voice of God while hiding in a cave after believing his ministry had ended in failure.  The shepherds received the angelic announcement of Christ's birth while working an ordinary night shift outside Bethlehem.  Mary Magdalene encountered the risen Christ while standing in a cemetery through tears of grief and confusion.  Again and again the Bible reminds us that God's presence is not confined to sanctuaries, mountaintops, or moments of obvious spiritual highs.  Instead, God delights in meeting us in deserts, prisons, cemeteries, fishing boats, and lonely roads, transforming places of despair into places of divine encounter.

There are countless Christians who will tell you that they first discovered the depth of God's faithfulness not during the happiest years of their lives but during seasons of illness, grief, financial hardship, or profound uncertainty.  It is remarkable how often people describe cancer treatments, hospital waiting rooms, unemployment, or the death of a loved one as the places where they came to know God more deeply than ever before.  None of us would willingly choose those experiences, yet time and again believers testify that while they would never wish to repeat those painful seasons, they would not trade what they learned about God's presence during them.  The wilderness, as difficult as it may be, has always been one of God's favorite classrooms.

Several years ago, I read an interview with a woman whose home had been completely destroyed by a hurricane.  She described the devastation of watching floodwaters carry away almost everything her family owned, and yet when she reflected on that experience years later, she said that what she remembered most clearly was not the destruction but the overwhelming kindness she encountered afterward.  Neighbors she had barely spoken to before arrived with food, strangers spent weekends helping rebuild her home, churches organized volunteers to clean debris from her property, and people she had never met donated supplies simply because they cared.  Looking back, she said, "I lost my house, but I found a community I never knew I had."  Her circumstances were unquestionably painful, yet they also became the setting in which she discovered dimensions of grace and compassion that might otherwise have remained hidden.

Jacob experiences something remarkably similar.  As he sleeps, he dreams of a staircase—or perhaps more accurately in the translation of the original Hebrew word sullam, a great ramp—stretching from earth into heaven, with angels ascending and descending upon it.  For centuries readers have been fascinated by this ladder, some depicting it as long and narrow, why others call it a highway; wondering what exactly it looked like or what every detail might symbolize.  Yet the emphasis of the story is not really on the ladder, the staircase, ramp, or highway, at all.  The emphasis is on the God who stands above it, speaking words of covenant and promise into the life of a frightened fugitive.

God introduces Himself to Jacob personally in the dream, not as a distant deity but as "the Lord, the God of Abraham your father and the God of Isaac," reminding Jacob that His covenant has never depended upon human perfection but upon divine faithfulness.  What follows is extraordinary because God does not begin by rehearsing Jacob's failures or demanding that he first explain his deception.  Instead, God repeats the promises first given to Abraham, assuring Jacob that the land will belong to his descendants, that his family will become countless in number, and that through his offspring all the families of the earth will be blessed.  Then comes the promise that lies at the heart of this passage: "Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go."

Those words remind us that God's presence is not limited by geography, circumstance, or even our own failures.  God promises to accompany him wherever he goes—to unfamiliar lands, difficult relationships, years of hard labor, moments of disappointment, and even through the consequences of his own poor decisions.  The promise is not that life will become easy, but that Jacob will never face life alone.

Unfortunately, our culture teaches us that when life is comfortable and prosperous, we must therefore be blessed by God.  But when suffering enters our lives, we begin thinking that God has withdrawn from us or is punishing us.  Yet Jacob's story turns that assumption upside down because God's greatest revelation comes while he is sleeping on the ground as a homeless refugee.  God's faithfulness has never depended upon our successes or failures; it just…is.  Indeed, some of the deepest experiences of God's grace occur precisely when everything else has been stripped away and we discover that God’s promises are sufficient even when little else remains.

I remember when I first connected my iPhone and its GPS navigation system to my car and experienced the frustration of missing a turn while driving somewhere unfamiliar.  I became anxious, maybe a little embarrassed, yet the GPS calmly responded with a single word: "Recalculating."  It was calm.  It didn’t stress out.  Of course, we wanted it to feel more human and exasperated with us, so we added a perceived inflection to it’s tone.  “Sigh…recalculating….”  Right?!?!

But honestly, it did not lecture us about the wrong turn we just made, nor did it abandon us because we failed to follow the original route.  “Well, you’re on your own now, dummy.”

Instead, it immediately began identifying another path that still led us to our destination.  There is something profoundly comforting about realizing that God's grace often works in much the same way.  Our sins have real consequences, and Scripture never minimizes them, but neither do they possess the power to cancel God's mercy or God’s purposes.  God is infinitely capable of redeeming wrong turns, detours along the way, or even broken roads and incorporating them into God’s larger work of grace.

When Jacob awakens, his response reveals that something within him has fundamentally changed.  Looking around at the same rocks, the same wilderness, and the same lonely landscape, he declares, "Surely the Lord is in this place—and I did not know it."  Notice that nothing about his circumstances has actually changed.  He is still alone.  He still has a long journey ahead.  His relationship with Esau remains broken.  He has not yet found a wife, established a family, or accumulated any wealth.  Externally, almost nothing is different.  What has changed though is Jacob's awareness.  He now understands that even in the darkest chapter of his life, God has never stopped being present.

How many times has God been quietly at work in ordinary conversations, unexpected interruptions, difficult seasons, or painful transitions while we remained completely unaware of God’s presence?  How often have we mistaken difficult places for godless places simply because they did not resemble the life we’d imagined?  Perhaps the greatest miracle of this story is not that heaven briefly opened before Jacob's eyes, but that he finally recognized a truth that had been there all along: God had never abandoned him, God was always there.

Throughout Scripture, this is one of the ways God redeems our lives.  The very places that once represented our deepest pain often become the places from which we are most able to testify to God's sustaining grace.  Hospital rooms become places of testimony.  Seasons of unemployment become stories of God's provision.  Broken relationships become opportunities to proclaim forgiveness.  The wilderness becomes holy ground because God has chosen to meet us there.

That is why this ancient story continues to speak with such power today.  Like Jacob, each of us travels roads we never expected to walk, carries regrets we wish we could erase, and occasionally finds ourselves lying awake in unfamiliar places wondering what the future holds.  Yet the good news of Genesis 28 is that God's faithfulness has never depended upon the strength of our faith or the perfection of our character.  It depends entirely upon God’s covenant love.  The same God who met Jacob in the wilderness continues to meet us today, not because we deserve His presence, but because He has promised never to leave us nor forsake us.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Offertory –

Doxology –

Prayer of Dedication –

         Lord, take these gifts, multiply them for Your use in the World and make our hearts and hands busy with the burdens of those in need, trusting in Your patient Spirit that will one day bring all people to faith.  AMEN.

Closing Hymn –  God Be With You Till We Meet Again            #232   Brown

Benediction

         Go now in the confidence that the God who met Jacob on the journey walks with you wherever you go.  Live as God's beloved children.  May the Lord bless you and keep you, fill you with hope, and give you peace until Christ makes all things new.  AMEN.

Postlude

Sunday, July 12, 2026

Today's Worship Service - Sunday, July 12, 2026

 

Worship Service for July 12, 2026

Prelude

Announcements:

Call to Worship

L:      We have been called to walk the faithful road and to choose the way of God’s justice.

P:      We are here because we believe strongly that God is good, and that we live in that goodness.  We are here to proclaim our faith and to seek direction.

L:      Come together then, to be God’s people.  Follow Christ and listen for the good things that God has done.  Rise up in praise and thanksgiving!

P:      We will share with others the goodness that we have found in God.  May our lives be an expression of that goodness.

 

Opening Hymn –        Come, Christians, Join to Sing    #150/225

 

Prayer of Confession

You have called us by name, O Lord, and made us into Your family.  Yet we do not always live as one body in Christ.  We neglect to care for Your creation; we forget that our neighbor is also our brother, our sister; we ignore suffering children in lands far away.  Forgive us, we pray.    Loosen the chains we place on our lives – chains of burden and busyness, chains of ignorance and stress.  Free us to care for Your family, that there might one day be true peace on earth and that we all might dance, sing, and praise Your glorious name.  (Silent prayers are offered)  AMEN.

Assurance of Pardon

L:      We belong to the King of Glory who joyfully sets us free.  In Christ’s healing, we find forgiveness.

P:      Glory be to God!  Amen.

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

Lord of the dance of life, You have breathed into us Your creative, joyful Spirit.  You have lifted us from the dust into the swirling joy of Your presence.  We are so grateful for all that You have done for us.  Each day reminds us in many ways of Your mercy and Your love.  Yet there are times in our lives when we have felt lost and alone with little or no peace.  We have been hurt and frightened and wondered where You were.  Remind us again of Your peaceful presence in our lives.  Place Your hands of healing on us.  Comfort us when we become afraid, lost, lonely, and fearful.   Prepare us to serve You faithfully all our days.  (PAUSE)

Gracious God, as the world continues to escalate in hatred and war, we find it difficult to justify reckless shootings here at home, as well.  There is no peace on earth, yet we yearn for it.  We yearn for that same peace in our own very souls.  Sometimes, we are at war within, too, O God.  Bring us that peace that passes all understanding when we are afraid, when we feel lost or alone, when life’s tragedies seem to overwhelm us. 

Holy Lord, hear our cries of humility and heal us.  Help us find a way forward that is absent of violence and hatred against those we do not like, against those with whom we disagree, and frankly against ourselves, You and all of Your creation.  Watch over our thoughts, that we think positively towards one another, carefully measured so that our thoughts don’t lead to hateful words.  Watch over the words that come out of our mouths, that they be respectful of people even when we disagree, so that our words do not lead to bad actions.  Watch over our actions, that they may be in service always to one another, that our swords indeed become plowshares. 

We have lifted the name of dear ones to You who are in need of Your healing love.  We especially pray for…

Lord, allow us a moment to also reflect on our own needs for Your love, joy, and peace in our dedicated service to You in these moments of silence…

The earth burst forth at Your word, O Lord, and we respond to that creative voice, praying... 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 – Christ is Made the Sure Foundation         #417/403

Scripture Reading(s): 

First Scripture Reading – Isaiah 55:10-13

Second Scripture Reading – Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

Sermon –  

The Seeds We Never See Grow

Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23

 

There are few images in Scripture that are as familiar as Jesus' Parable of the Sower.  Even people who have spent very little time in church have heard something about seeds falling on different kinds of soil. We usually hear this parable as a lesson about the condition of our own hearts.  Are we the hard path that refuses to receive God's Word?  Are we the rocky soil that responds with enthusiasm until life becomes difficult?  Are we so surrounded by the worries of life and the pursuit of success that God's voice is crowded out by everything else competing for our attention? Or, by God's grace, have our hearts become good soil where the gospel can take root and produce a harvest beyond anything we could imagine?

Those are important questions, and Jesus certainly intends us to ask them.  Yet the parable begins somewhere else.  Before Jesus ever describes the different kinds of soil, He invites us to notice the farmer who walks into the field with a bag of seed hanging from his shoulder.  He does not stop to inspect every square foot of ground before he begins sowing. He does not ration the seed, carefully calculating where it might produce the greatest return.  Instead, he scatters it generously and almost recklessly, allowing it to fall wherever it may.  Some of it lands on the path, some among rocks, some among thorns, and some on fertile ground.  The farmer's responsibility is not to determine the outcome.  His responsibility is simply to keep sowing.

The more I have reflected on this parable over the years, the more convinced I have become that this is also a picture of the Christian life.  We spend a great deal of time worrying about results.  We wonder whether our efforts matter, whether our conversations make a difference, whether our prayers accomplish anything, or whether the small acts of kindness we offer are quickly forgotten.  Jesus reminds us that those questions are ultimately God's to answer.  Our calling is much simpler, though no less demanding.  We are called to keep scattering the seeds of God's kingdom wherever He has placed us, trusting that He alone knows what is happening beneath the surface of another person's heart.

That truth came to mind as I recently read Allen Levi's beautiful novel Theo of Golden.  If you have not read the book, it tells the story of Theo who is a quiet, mysterious older gentleman who suddenly appears in the Southern city of Golden.  After visiting a local coffee shop, he becomes captivated by a collection of pencil portraits of the townspeople drawn by a local artist.  Theo embarks on a campaign of anonymous generosity, purchasing the portraits to gift them back to their rightful owners.  In exchange for the portraits, he asks only for their life stories.  Theo is not a celebrity, a famous preacher, or someone who draws attention to himself.  In fact, if you met him, you might wonder why anyone would even notice him.  He repairs things, listens carefully, remembers people's stories, and seems to have an endless capacity for making others feel seen.  At first glance, nothing he does appears extraordinary.  Yet by the end of the novel, we discover that nearly every life in the town has somehow been touched by his quiet faithfulness.

What struck me most was that Theo rarely sets out to change anyone.  He simply chooses, day after day, to scatter kindness with the same generosity that the sower in our text from Matthew scatters seed.  Every conversation becomes an opportunity to encourage someone.  Every stranger is treated as though they matter.  Every broken object he repairs becomes a reminder that broken people can also be restored.  He has no idea which moments will matter most, so he treats every moment as though it carries eternal significance.

Although the story centers on this 86 year old man from Portugal who shares kindness, the most memorable characters in the novel are the many people whose lives intersect with his.  Some arrive carrying grief that has hardened their hearts after years of disappointment.  Others are burdened by regrets they cannot seem to escape.  Still others have become isolated by loneliness or bitterness, convinced that no one really notices them anymore.  If we were standing outside the story, we might easily assume that these are people beyond hope, that nothing good could ever grow in lives that appear so neglected.  Theo never makes that assumption.  He refuses to judge the condition of another person's soil because he understands something we often forget: only God knows what is happening beneath the surface.

That, I think, is where this novel beautifully echoes Jesus' parable.  We are often tempted to decide in advance who is worth our time and energy.  We look at someone who has rejected faith for years, or someone whose life seems hopelessly tangled, and quietly conclude that our efforts would be wasted.  Jesus never gives us permission to make those judgments.  The farmer in the parable scatters seed everywhere because he understands that the power is not in his ability to predict the harvest but in the life contained within the seed itself.  Likewise, we never know when one word of encouragement, one unexpected act of generosity, or one patient conversation may become the very thing God uses to awaken faith in another person.

Perhaps that is why Theo's influence grows so quietly throughout the novel.  The people whose lives he touches gradually become people who begin touching the lives of others.  Kindness multiplies.  Compassion spreads.  Hope becomes contagious.  By the end of the story, it is difficult to trace where the transformation actually began because one act of grace has led to another, which has led to another still. 

Isn't that precisely how the Kingdom of God works?  Rarely through dramatic spectacles, but almost always through ordinary people who faithfully plant seeds they may never live to see grow.

As pastors, parents, teachers, grandparents, neighbors, and friends, we often become discouraged because we expect immediate results.  We want to see lives changed after one conversation or one sermon.  Yet anyone who has ever planted a garden knows that growth is one of God's quiet miracles.  The seed disappears before it ever becomes visible again.  For weeks it seems as though nothing at all is happening, when in reality roots are stretching deeper into the soil where no one can see them.  The kingdom of God often grows in exactly the same way.  Long before we witness changed behavior, restored relationships, or renewed faith, God is already at work beneath the surface.

I suspect every one of us can look back over our lives and identify people who were sowers in just this way.  Perhaps it was a Sunday school teacher who faithfully told Bible stories year after year without ever knowing how deeply they would shape your faith.  Perhaps it was a grandparent whose quiet prayers sustained an entire family, or a neighbor whose kindness taught you something about Christ before you ever understood the gospel.  They probably never imagined the harvest their lives would produce.  They simply kept sowing.

Jesus concludes the parable by saying that the seed which falls on good soil bears fruit—some thirtyfold, some sixtyfold, some a hundredfold.  That extraordinary harvest is not ultimately a reward for the farmer's skill but a testimony to God's power working through ordinary faithfulness.  The same is true for us.  We are not called to manufacture spiritual growth or to guarantee results.  We are called to scatter grace generously, to love people patiently, and to trust that God is always doing far more than we can see.

Perhaps that is the greatest lesson both Jesus and Theo have to teach us.  The most significant things we ever do may never seem significant at the time.  A conversation over coffee, a handwritten note, a visit to someone who is lonely, a word of forgiveness, an unexpected kindness offered to someone who least expects it—these are the seeds of the Kingdom.  We release them into the world without knowing where they will land, believing that the God who gives life to every seed is still capable of bringing forth a harvest beyond our imagining.

So, as we leave this sacred space today and go back into the world that we a part of, perhaps the question is not whether we can change the world by ourselves.  We cannot.  The better question is whether we are willing to become faithful sowers, scattering the seeds of Christ's love with open hands and generous hearts wherever God leads us.  For the miracle has never depended on the sower.  It has always depended on the God who gives the growth.  And because of that, no act of love offered in the name of Christ is ever wasted.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Offertory –

Doxology –

Prayer of Dedication –

         Creator of all things, we give back to You in praise of Your glory.  We do not wish to simply praise You with our song and our words and our hands; we wish to praise You by loving our brothers and sisters in Christ.  Take and use our gifts, that they may serve Your holy kingdom.  AMEN.

Closing Hymn –  O Love That Will Let Me Go        #384/606

Benediction

         Children of God, go forth in peace – in your heart and spirit and then out into the world, sharing God’s message of love, joy, and peace.  AMEN.

Postlude

Sunday, July 5, 2026

Today's Worship Service - Sunday, July 5, 2026

 

Worship Service for July 5, 2026

Prelude

Announcements:

Call to Worship

L:      O come, let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation!

P:      Let us come into God’s presence with thanksgiving: let us make a joyful noise to him with songs of praise!

L:      For the Lord is a great God, and a great King above all gods.

P:      O come, let us worship and bow down, let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker!       

 

Opening Hymn –  Lift Every Voice and Sing  #563

Prayer of Confession

Gracious and loving God, forgive us when we turn a deaf ear to Your call in Jesus Christ; when we turn away from the cries of those in the world who need Your love and our help.  Forgive us when we treat discipleship as a yoke of oppression.  Help us learn that it is a blessing and gift for leading a faithful life as Your people.  O Lord, forgive our sin.  Help us know and love You with all that we are.  Help us learn to love our neighbors as we love ourselves.  We pray for the strength of Your Holy Spirit to equip us for our calling as followers of Jesus Christ, in whom we have our hope and put our trust.  (Silent prayers are offered)  AMEN.

Assurance of Pardon

L:      The apostle Paul wrote to the believers in Galatia, “For you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters; only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence, but through love become slaves to one another.  For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”  Hear and believe the good news:

P:      In Jesus Christ we are forgiven.  Thanks be to God.  AMEN! 

 

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

Gracious and loving God,

You are the One who knows us completely. You see the burdens we carry that others never notice, the worries that keep us awake at night, the grief we hide behind polite smiles, and the responsibilities that sometimes seem too heavy to bear. Yet before we ever call upon You, Christ speaks these gracious words: "Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest."

So today we come.

We come not because we have everything together, but because we need Your mercy. We come not because we are strong, but because we know our weakness. We come trusting that Your grace is greater than our failures, Your peace stronger than our fears, and Your love deeper than our understanding.

Lord, teach us what it means to take upon ourselves the gentle yoke of Christ. In a world that demands more, pushes harder, and measures our worth by what we accomplish, remind us that our identity is found not in our achievements but in being Your beloved children. Help us to learn from Jesus, whose strength was clothed in humility and whose power was revealed through love.

We pray for those who are especially weary today. Comfort those whose bodies are weakened by illness, whose minds are weighed down by anxiety, whose hearts are broken by loss, and whose spirits are exhausted from carrying responsibilities that seem never-ending. Give rest to caregivers, encouragement to those seeking work, hope to those facing uncertain futures, and courage to all who wonder how they will make it through another day.  We especially pray for…

We pray for Your Church. May we become a place where burdens are shared rather than ignored, where the lonely find friendship, the wounded discover healing, and those who have grown tired in faith find renewed hope. Make us instruments of Christ's compassion so that others may experience His welcome through our words and actions.

We pray for our community, our nation, and our world. Where there is conflict, bring peace. Where there is injustice, awaken righteousness. Where there is despair, plant seeds of hope. Guide those who lead in positions of authority, granting them wisdom, humility, and a sincere desire to seek the common good.

Lord, hear now the prayers that remain unspoken, the burdens too deep for words, and the concerns we quietly lift before You in this time of silence….

We ask all these things in the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who taught us to pray, 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 –  Let Us Break Bread Together  #513

 

Scripture Reading(s): 

         Psalm 47

Matthew 11:1-30

Sermon – Come to Me

 

There are few words in all of Scripture that sound as comforting as these:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

Those words sound almost too good to be true.  They come to us in a world that seems to know very little about rest.  We are constantly connected but increasingly lonely.  We have more conveniences than any generation before us, yet we seem more exhausted than ever.  Our calendars are full, our phones never stop buzzing, our minds race long after we've gone to bed, and even on vacation many of us find ourselves checking email or worrying about what waits for us when we get home.

We know what physical exhaustion feels like.  After a long day of work, a demanding week, or caring for family members, our bodies remind us that we have limits.  But Jesus isn't simply talking about tired muscles or the need for a good night's sleep.  He's speaking to something much deeper.  He's talking about soul weariness—that kind of exhaustion that sleep cannot fix.

Perhaps you've felt it yourself.  It comes after carrying grief for months.  It comes after making difficult decisions.  It comes from trying to hold a family together, worrying about aging parents, raising children, managing finances, dealing with illness, or wondering what the future will hold.  Sometimes the greatest burden isn't what we're doing but what we're carrying inside us—the fear, the guilt, the uncertainty, the constant pressure to keep everything together.

Jesus sees and knows all about that before He ever says to us and to his disciples, "Come."

Notice that He doesn't begin by saying, "Get your life together."  He doesn't say, "Fix your problems first."  He doesn't demand that we become stronger, more disciplined, or more faithful before we approach Him.  His invitation begins exactly where we are—with our weariness.  We’re the ones that make excuses.  We’re the ones that often say, “First, let me do this or that.”  We’re the ones that believe we need to get our lives together before we come to Christ.

Our culture often sends a very different message.  We admire people who appear to have everything under control.  Social media presents carefully edited lives where everyone else seems happier, healthier, more successful, and more organized than we are.  We compare our ordinary Tuesday with someone else's highlight reel and wonder why we can't keep up.

Psychologists have even coined the phrase "the comparison trap." The more we compare ourselves with others, the more inadequate we feel.  We begin carrying burdens that God never intended us to carry.  We worry about appearances.  We strive for perfection.  We convince ourselves that our value depends upon our performance.

Many people spend their entire lives trying to prove they are enough.  I’ve done it myself.  I’ve felt the need as a teenager and a young adult to prove that I was enough; to strive for perfection, to do and be what everyone else wanted me to do and be.  And that desire/that need still creeps into my life every now and then.  But none of us can live up to everyone’s else standards for us.  We each need to be the people that God created us to be and to live into the person that God is shaping us, not the person others expect us to be.

And Jesus offers something radically different.  His invitation is not based upon our accomplishments, but rather upon His grace.  Imagine carrying a backpack filled with rocks. At first, the weight doesn't seem too bad.  But as the miles pass, every step becomes harder.  Your shoulders ache.  Your back hurts.  Eventually you forget what it feels like not to carry the weight because you've become accustomed to it.

Lots of people walk through life that way.  Every time we fall short of others’ expectations is one more stone added to the backpack.  Every disappointment becomes another stone.  Every regret adds another.  Every unrealistic expectation, every unresolved conflict, every fear about tomorrow gets tossed into the pack.  We become so accustomed to carrying the weight that we assume it's simply part of life.

Then Jesus says, "Come to me."  He's not asking us to carry the burden better.  He's inviting us to lay it all down.  The odd thing is that Jesus doesn't promise relief from our burdens; those that others put on us and those that we’ve put on ourselves, but He invites us to take up a yoke, instead.

At first glance that sounds confusing.  Why exchange one burden for another?  Most of us don't have much experience with yokes today.  In Jesus' day, a yoke was a wooden beam placed across two oxen so they could pull together.  Farmers knew something important.  A young, inexperienced ox was often yoked beside an older, stronger one.  The younger animal learned where to walk, when to stop, and how to bear the load by staying alongside the experienced one.  The stronger animal carried much of the weight.

When Jesus says, "Take my yoke upon you," He isn't saying, "Carry more."  He's saying, "Walk with me.  I’ll take up much of the weight you are carrying and I’ll show you where to walk, when to stop, and how to bear the load.”  And that's an important distinction.

Our belief system in being a follower of Christ isn’t simply following a list of rules.  It’s living in relationship with Christ.  We are yoked to Him.  He bears the greater weight.  He guides the direction.  He supplies the strength that we lack.  Think about the difference between dragging a heavy piece of furniture by yourself and having someone much stronger take the other end.  The object hasn't changed, but everything about carrying it has.  What once felt impossible becomes manageable because you are no longer doing it alone.

That is supposed to be the Christian life we emulate for others and work towards ourselves.  We’ll still face criticism of others.  We’ll still face illness.  We’ll still grieve.  We’ll still work hard.  We’ll still experience disappointment.  But we don’t need to carry those burdens by ourselves.

If you remember in our scripture readings that Paul discovered this when he prayed repeatedly for God to remove his “thorn in the flesh.” Whatever that might have been, we don’t actually know, but it was a burden of some sort that Paul carried.  God's answer to him was not immediate deliverance but rather these words: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."

There is another reason why we often become so weary.  We’ve convinced ourselves that everything depends upon us.  And if we're being honest, many of us live as though we are personally responsible for holding the whole world together.  We worry constantly about things completely beyond our control.  We lie awake rehearsing conversations that haven't happened yet.  We try to solve tomorrow's problems with today's anxiety.

God gives us grace one day at a time.  Jesus taught us to pray for daily bread, not a year’s supply, not a month’s supply, not even a week’s supply.  Just a daily supply of bread.  And in that God calls us to faithfulness today.  Not next year.  Not ten years from now.  Today.

I read an anecdote about a traveler heading home and crossing the Alps with his young daughter.  As evening approached, the mountains looked dark and intimidating.  The little girl became frightened and asked, "Father, how will we ever get across those mountains?"  He smiled and pointed toward the lantern he carried.  "My child," he said, "this light only shines a few feet ahead of us.  But if we simply walk as far as the light reaches, it will keep moving forward until we arrive home."  When I took my Sabbatical a few years ago, travelling in Italy, just let me say that everything in Italy is up.  Every town and every historical sight is located on the top of a hill.  When I was staying in the Cinque Terra area which is a UNESCO World Heritage Sight, I decided one day, rather than take the train, I’d walk the trail to the next town.  It was a constant uphill climb.  I’m not a climber, I’m not a thrill-seeking hiker.  I don’t even like to walk from the farthest end of a parking lot to a store.  But, as I was going to the next town, all I kept thinking was, I’ll just get to the next turn in the trail and go from there, of course hoping that the next turn would reveal the town ahead.

That is often how God leads us.  He rarely illuminates the whole journey.  He simply asks us to trust Him for the next faithful step.  In this passage, Jesus also tells us something about His own character that is easy to overlook.  Jesus says, "I am gentle and humble in heart."  He is not demanding, not impatient, not easily disappointed, but rather gentle and humble.  How often are we gentle and humble when leading or teaching others?

I think we often lack that skill because many people imagine God standing over them with folded arms, waiting for them to fail.  But Jesus reveals something entirely different.  The One who carries divine authority also possesses perfect gentleness.  The One who calms storms also comforts broken hearts.  The One who conquered death welcomes weary travelers with open arms.  This is the heart of the Gospel.

God is not waiting for us to become worthy of His love, we already are.  When we know that our identity rests securely in Christ rather than in our achievements, we become free to serve rather than strive.  We can admit mistakes without fear.  We can forgive because we've been forgiven.  We can rest because we know that God remains at work even while we take a break or get some much needed rest.

One of the great spiritual disciplines that modern Christians need to recover is the practice of genuine rest.  Rest is not laziness.  Rest is an act of trust.  Every time we pause for worship, every Sabbath we honor, every moment we spend in prayer instead of frantic activity, we quietly confess that God can manage the universe without our constant supervision.  That may be one of the hardest confessions for us to make.

As we gather around the Lord's Table today, we are reminded again that salvation itself is not something we accomplish.  We do not earn God's grace by working harder.  We receive it with open hands from a gentle and humble hearted Savior.  The table is not a reward for the strong.  It is nourishment for the weary.

Perhaps today you came carrying burdens no one else knows about.  Perhaps your smile has hidden your exhaustion.  Perhaps you've spent so long trying to be strong that you've forgotten how to receive help.  Listen again to the voice of Jesus.  "Come to me."  Not tomorrow.  Not after you've solved every problem.  Not after you've become a better Christian.  Come now.  Come weary.  Come burdened.  Come exactly as you are.

For the One who calls you is gentle.  The One who walks beside you is faithful.  The One who bears your burdens has already carried the cross.  And the One who promises rest has never once failed to keep His word.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

Offertory – (Call for the Offering) 

Doxology –

Prayer of Dedication –

O God, receive these gifts and use them to bring hope to the burdened, comfort to the hurting, and the good news of Your love to all who seek You. Dedicate not only these offerings, but also our lives, that we may serve You faithfully with joy and generosity. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

HOLY COMMUNION

Invitation to the Table:

Christ's invitation continues at this table.  He welcomes all who trust in Him, who seek His mercy, and who desire to follow Him in faith.  If you come today carrying burdens of grief, worry, doubt, or fear, know that Christ invites you.  If you come rejoicing, come with thanksgiving.  If you come longing for renewed strength, come expecting His grace.  Here we do not find perfection, but forgiveness; not condemnation, but mercy; not empty ritual, but the living presence of our risen Lord.

Come, because Christ invites you.  Come, for all is ready. Taste and see that the Lord is good.

Words of Institution:

And the passing of the sacramental elements; the bread and the cup.

Prayer after Communion:

Faithful God, thank You that You do not leave us to carry life's burdens alone.  We give You thanks that at Your Holy Table we find strength and forgiveness, a place of renewed community and purpose.  As we leave this place, help us to walk beside Christ each day, trusting that His yoke is easy, His burden is light, and His grace is sufficient for every challenge we face.  AMEN.

Closing Hymn – My Country ‘Tis of Thee   #561

 

Benediction

May the blessing of God Almighty—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—be with you, remain with you, and go before you, now and always.  Amen.

Postlude