Remember with clear eyes the uncountable cost of war.
Remember with deep sorrow those who killed and were killed.
Remember with grief the blood-stained battlefields.
Remember with horror the destroyed neighbourhoods.
Remember with tears the trail of people fleeing their homeland.
Remember with compassion the bereaved and the wounded.
We stand at the threshold of the year…
some of us stand solidly on two feet, ready to take a bold step forward.
Some of us are more tentative–
we have one foot still lingering in the summer break,
reluctant to put that foot forward in the new season.
God of Grace,
everywhere we look in Niagara, there is bounty.
Orchards brimming with red cherries.
Vineyards heavy with purple grapes.
Fields carpeted in golden grain.
Green vegetables, row on row,
and bushes laden with blueberries.
And the good earth
hiding its white potatoes till harvest.
A feast for the eye and body,
all gifts from your hands.
The deeds are done,
the crimes are committed,
and many people continue to suffer.
How do we make things right
in the aftermath of great wrongs?
How do we do this when the wrongs
took place across centuries and continents,
and are still continuing today?
We have a long history
and you know it all.
From week one something in us
grasping forbidden things,
walking away from others.
Humanity or our ancestors
ranging for food, shelter, warmth.
Taking it where we could find it,
wresting it away from others.
On this May morning
as the very ground around us
is resurrected from winter’s death,
we are filled with thankfulness.
New colours blaze around us:
crowds of golden daffodils,
flotillas of white blossoming trees
and every possible shade of green.
God of our side, and God of our enemies’ side,
hear our prayer:
we need your help here on planet earth.
With heavy hearts we confess
the brokenness on our beautiful blue planet.
Hear the sound of gunfire,
see the bomb craters,
taste the bitterness of people hating people,
smell the fear that permeates our lives,
touch the hearts of the wounded.
God of grace,
we come together on this somber day with heavy hearts.
We are reluctant to hear this story of Jesus’ suffering,
we would rather skip this and go straight to Easter,
to hear the happy songs and rejoice about your victory over death.
But that is not for today.
Help us, now, to stay with Jesus;
to feel with him as he is betrayed, rejected,
to watch as he is condemned, tortured and killed
because of his love for all humankind.
Thank you for the gift of your son,
which you freely gave,
even though you knew how he would be received.
Be with us now, in this hour of worship. Amen
Jesus comes to Jerusalem, the city nearest you.
Jesus comes to the gate, to the synagogue,
to houses prepared for wedding parties,
to the pools where people wait to be healed,
to the temple where lambs are sold,
to gardens, beautiful in the moonlight.
He comes to the governor’s palace.
I am a Mennonite pastor currently teaching theology at Conrad Grebel University College in Waterloo, Ontario. I’ve served congregations in Ontario and most recently, Alberta.
I love to write and to lead worship! If you are finding my writing helpful, I would love to hear from you! Feel free to use or adapt the material here, it is all written by me. If printing material, please credit “Copyright Carol Penner www.leadinginworship.com” (and say whether you modified it). If publishing, please contact me for permission. Contact me at carol@leadinginworship.com
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