We enter now into a time of prayer, spoken at first, and then silent.
Gracious Light, we are gathered to revel in your infinite refractions, that make for us an abundant life whose every moment carries the import of the ages. We would ask for the humility prerequisite to awe, and would respond with natural gratitude for your enduring and ever-giving love.
We pray for the earth, that we may still heal its scars and restore its splendor, and make it a fitting home for every creature.
We pray for those who bear transitions, particularly Linnea Sandberg, as she leaves for college, and Jennifer Sandberg, as she searches for a job. May they confront every circumstance with energy and grace.
We pray for the forgotten and powerless, that they may know and claim their equal stake in the salvation of themselves and of humankind.
We pray for those who spend the night in wakefulness, in pain, grief or care. Remember the ill and the recuperating, particularly Mary Templeton's sister Sue Anne, Mary Simmons’s grandson Keith, Dave Skidmore’s sister Linda, and Sue Mosher’s father Dick. Watch over them and their families, and keep them in your care.
We pray for those who have lost faith; that they may be sustained and comforted by your embrace. We pray also for those who walk oblivious to your touch, that they may know, by whatever name or none, the Miracle which composes all miracles.
We pray, O God of all Nations, for the whole world, that it may be delivered from its turmoil. Remembering the work that has yet been done, we give thanks for the succession of prophets, apostles, and martyrs, continued even to this very hour. We remember all those who labor far from home for peace and justice.
Guiding Spirit of our souls, whom all worship under many names and diverse forms, we pray for your holy Church Universal, and for this congregation, that we may be delivered from hardness of heart, and show forth your glory in all that we do. Give us no victory but fellowship, and help us labor to build the Commonwealth of God, where nevermore shall we despair or dissemble, and where none shall be judged but by nearness to you.
For you are our Mother and Father, and we the children of your love, and naught can separate from you the souls which you have made and which you sustain forevermore.
Also see "The God Who Outgrew Itself," sermon preached by Ben Van Dyne on August 15, 2004