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James 1: Two Calls to Worship

James 1: 17-25 One: Come now and worship God For every good and perfect thing is from above Many: Given by the Father of heaven All: We worship you, unchanging Father One: We are the first-fruits of God’s creatures Many: Birthed by God’s word All: We worship you, Mother of truth One: We are brothers and sisters Many: We are hearers of the word, we are doers of the word All: We worship you, righteous God ------ One: We gather in the house of God, Many: We gather with the people of God, One: to worship God. Many: to hear God’s word. One: The word of God Many: is a good and perfect gift, given from above. One: God gave us birth Many: through the word of truth. One: God planted this word in us. Many: It has power to save us. One: Be doers of the word, Many: not only hearers. One: Listen to the word, Many: to live in God’s righteousness.
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Reader's Theatre: Widow Weynken, an Anabaptist Martyr

Readers’ Theater Widow Weynken Adapted from Martyrs’ Mirror Parts: Narrator Weynken Woman 1 Woman 2 Man 1 Man 2 Man 3 Narrator: In November of 1527, Mrs. Weynken, a widow, was brought as a prisoner to the Hague, in Holland, under the charges of being an Anabaptist which was outlawed by the government. She was arraigned before the governor and the full council of Holland. There a woman asked her: Woman 1: "Have you well considered the things which my lords proposed to you?" Weynken:   "I abide by what I have said." Woman 1: "If you do not speak differently, and turn from your error, you will be subjected to an intolerable death." Weynken:   "If power is given to you from above I am ready to suffer."  Woman 1:   "Do you then, not fear death, which you have never tasted?" Weynken: "This is true; but I shall never taste death, for Christ says: 'If a man keeps my sayings, he shall ne...
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My body has forgotten how to cry

My body has forgotten how to cry. I mean, I regularly tear up, I’m not a monster. But to cry, actually let the tears slip down my cheeks, sob, any actual catharsis, no. I cried at the beginning of last summer. It was the last day my family was worshipping at the church where we had attended for 11 years, where I had been the youth pastor, where my girls were born, with the people who rebuilt my house after the fire . It was also the last Sunday some of our best friends would be there. They were moving to Iowa. I cried from the moment worship began and all through the carry-in meal. I cried as I told them, “Thank you for allowing me to help raise your children and for helping me to raise mine.” That was the last time. Before that, I cried twice in the fall of 2018: both pretty intense circumstances. But, generally, the tears don’t come. They ball into a painful pressure at the top of my sternum. (Yes, I am aware that’s the heart chakra.) The world feels like it’s falling down. I have n...
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