Welcome to Union Presbyterian Church Online.
You can turn on Closed Captioning for this time of worship by clicking on the “CC” on your YouTube video.
If you are using a smaller device, you can tap on the three dots to find the “CC” option.
Today during our pastoral prayer, I will be
lighting three candles as a part of the liturgy and extended prayer time.
I invite you to
participate and light candles as well.
So press pause on worship right now,
and run through your house, gathering three candles.
Or simply watch the screen and enjoy some virtual light.
Welcome. You are seen.
You are welcome here.
We gather each Sunday as a community connected
by our desire to worship together, no matter
the physical distance between us.
We gather, because Jesus reminded us that,
where two or three are gathered in his name,
he is with us.
We gather, because nothing can separate us
from the love of God or from the connection
we have because of that love.
We are glad you are here today.
Let us worship God together!
Our help is in the name of the Lord, who made
heaven and earth.
Come into this place, knowing that you are
welcomed here by the one who created you,
and loves you.
God beckons us, embraces us, celebrates with
us and leads us into wholeness.
So Come. Come into the Lord’s house with
your tears and your jubilation, for both are
welcome here.
Come into this sacred place, which is called
a house of prayer for all peoples.
Let us be drawn into whatever the Spirit has
in store for us this day – allowing ourselves
to be seen and drawn into the Lord’s holy
embrace. Let us remember that God’s love
for humankind, present from the very beginning
of all things, extends throughout history
and touches even our lives.
Let us pray.
Creative Mother, Nurturing Father, God, you
molded the mountains and painted the skies.
And by your Spirit you breathed life into
each of us. You created us and have called
us “beloved.”
As your beloved children we come seeking your
abundance and anticipating grace.
May we be moved into curiosity and creativity.
May we listen for the Spirit’s holy whisper.
May our souls stir.
Be the center of all that we are, O Christ,
making yourself known to us anew and inspiring
us into the consecrated action of your divine
heart.
Amen.
God’s peace is with us, even in the midst
of chaos and worry. I invite you to share
that peace—by word, by gesture, even by
prayer. May the peace of God, that passes
all understanding, keep your minds and hearts
in the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ.
Peace be with you.
The First reading comes from Psalm 46.
To the leader. Of the Korahites. According
to Alamoth. A Song.
God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth
should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of
the sea;
though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult.
There is a river whose streams make glad the
city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
God is in the midst of the city; it shall
not be moved;
God will help it when the morning dawns.
The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms
totter;
he utters his voice, the earth melts.
The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge.
Come, behold the works of the Lord;
see what desolations he has brought on the
earth.
He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
‘Be still, and know that I am God!
I am exalted among the nations,
I am exalted in the earth.’
The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge.
Hi, it’s pastor Michelle and I am coming
to you from our apartment in Paris. Paris
is a long way away from Endicott and usually
I get to be there with you. And my family
gets to be there with their family every summer.
This year was really different, and we have been in
Paris all together in our tiny apartment for
months now. And it's been really hard!
And I thought I would give you a little tour of what that was like for us.
So let’s start with our workspace and oh
if you take one step back.
Look! It's someone's birthday!
Whose birthday was it?
“Marcello and my mom’s.”
Yeah, it was Marcello’s birthday in August,
but friends, this has been up since March
when it was my birthday
and everyday was just
like the other so we left it up and said,
“We are just going to celebrate all the
way until August.”
And oh look, we are doing laundry in our living
room -workspace. And you can see our music
room and our kitty cats. There’s Connor
and Marcello.
Hi!
Hi!
They are watching some TV,
playing some video games and enjoying their last few days of summer before they go
back to school for the first time regularly since March.
And then if you turn again that’s their room, but Oh! We’re not gonna go in there.
So, I don’t know if your life looked anything
like our life over the last few months, but
it’s been hard and we’ve had time together,
sometimes too much time. We've laughed and
we've cried. We’ve fought and yelled at
each other, but we’ve also loved each other.
We wanted to say that even though we can’t
be there with you, and that you’re not worshiping
in person right now that we are praying for
you. Everyone there at Union Presbyterian
Church and we are happy to be your church
family, even from afar.
That’s how the community of faith works.
We love each other, pray for each other, support
each other when there is need and no matter
if we are near or far, we are connected because
of the love of Jesus. The love of Christ makes
our community and makes our community really
strong. So until we get to see you again,
know that we are praying for you! In Christ’s
name, Amen.
A reading from the Gospel of Mark, Chapter 5, verses 24b-34.
Listen now, and hear the Word of the Lord!
And a great crowd followed him and thronged
about him. And there was a woman who had
had a flow of blood for twelve years, and
who had suffered much under many physicians,
and had spent all that she had, and was no
better but rather grew worse.
She had heard the reports about Jesus,
and came up behind him in the crowd and touched
his garment. For she said, “If I touch
even his garments, I shall be made well.”
And immediately the hemorrhage ceased;
and she felt in her body that she was healed
of her disease.
And Jesus, perceiving in himself that power
had gone forth from him, immediately turned
about in the crowd, and said, “Who touched
my garments?”
And his disciples said to him, “You see
the crowd pressing around you, and yet you
say, ‘Who touched me?’” And he looked
around to see who had done it.
But the woman, knowing what had been done
to her, came in fear and trembling and fell
down before him, and told him the whole truth.
And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith
has made you well; go in peace, and be healed
of your disease.”
This is the Word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.
Would you please pray with me?
Holy Spirit, come into this sacred moment.
Breathe your Word of life-giving abundance
upon us, that together with all the saints,
we would come to know how deep, and long,
and wide, your love is for us.
May we hear today.
May we see with eyes anew.
May we be challenged anew to love relentlessly.
In Christ's name we pray, Amen.
I don’t know about you, but there’s some
things about this passage that make me uncomfortable.
The thought of a gathered crowd alone makes
my heart skip a beat. The people were pressed
in, all around Jesus; there was no social
distancing!
Among those in the crowd there was a woman
– a woman who does not belong in crowd because
she was dirty and diseased and desolate.
She was a woman hemorrhaging. It might make
us a little uncomfortable to think not just
about a woman’s normal menstrual cycle in
church, but an illness that created a ritual
uncleanliness. She was rendered unable to
participate in religious life. She was one,
who according to Leviticus, was untouchable.
In adherence to the law, a woman was unclean
for seven days after she stopped bleeding.
This woman had not been unclean for a typical
fourteen days, she had been bleeding for twelve years.
Twelve years! Think about all that can happen
in twelve years’ time. Over a decade!
That’s Kindergarten to Senior High!
But I don’t imagine much changed for this
woman over those twelve years.
Maybe she had once been married, but because of her illnessshe would have been unable to bear children
and that loophole would have allowed her husband
to divorce her.
Maybe she had never been married because she
would not have been a good candidate.
Her body had betrayed her.
Either way, she was disenfranchised,
unable to earn income or participate in any aspect of religious or everyday life.
If she touched anyone, they would become unclean
too.
She would have been shunned, secluded, and scorned.
She must have carried with her for those twelve
years a physical, psychological and spiritual
weariness – weariness with deep and wide
social implications. It was unyielding because
her ailment was unyielding.
She was a woman so desperate, that she left
her isolation in defiance of the religious
laws to brave the crowds to see the man who
everyone was talking about.
“The Great Physician now is near,
The sympathizing Jesus;
He speaks the drooping heart to cheer,
Oh hear the voice of Jesus!”
You can see this scene, can’t you?
Maybe it's like watching crowds on TV.
You could watch it happening – the people gathering
in parade or protest.
You can imagine looking at your screens and watching it all happening.
What do you see?
So much of life has become a 24-hour livestream.
Part of this has been thrust upon us because
of the Coronavirus, and the necessity to watch
the world unfolding from the confines of our homes.
But I think most of us were probably
good at being crowd watchers even before we
were restricted to our homes.
We scroll and scroll. Doom scrolling, we call
it.
What do you see happening on the news, in your Facebook feed, or rapidly passing
you by via Twitter?
It’s too much to see,
but you can’t “unsee” it either.
This woman was done watching from afar. She
was “in it” now.
Although she was weary, she moved through the crowd with a grief-stricken hopefulness.
“If I can only touch it,” she thought…. “If I can push through the crowd enough to grasp even
the hem of His robe.”
With the crowds pressing into Jesus, you might
imagine that the woman too is pressed up against
other people who are there.
Are her wounds visible to others?
Does she leave a messy trail behind her that points out her impurities?
The text doesn’t say that she rudely bumped
into the other people in the crowd, or even
that she spoke. She simply came behind Jesus,
grasping for anything she could reach.
The unseen woman who could not be touched,
touched Jesus.
A miracle stolen. Did anyone else see?
In the eyes of the public this teacher would
have become unclean, just like the woman.
Did the crowd notice?
Jesus did.
Looking around, Jesus asked “Who touched my garments?”
I don’t think Jesus was going ever going
to scold her for “stealing” his power,
but I am quite certain that he wanted to see
the woman who moved quietly, inspirationally,
and passionately toward wholeness.
The woman never bemoaned her sickness, nor
did she make a public pronunciation of faith,
she simply followed the prodding that pushed
her to push through the crowd toward healing.
She is a quiet revolutionary whose actions
are prayer and protest against that which steals life.
Jesus looked all around the crowd for her.
The Greek word used here to indicate that Jesus was “looking” is quite strong.
It can even mean “glaring.”
Was Jesus glaring at the crowd? At the woman?
Maybe Jesus just wanted to really see.
He wanted to look at the beautiful face of the woman
and know the one who had defied society to see him.
He didn’t just see her, in His stopping
and in His looking, Christ placed the quiet
rebel right there in front of the crowd that
they would see her.
He blessed the one who never should have been there to begin with…
Maybe He wanted the community to see the one
who had been denied community.
Though no one in that crowd noticed her; though they wouldn't have embraced her, she was there.
By the words of Jesus, “Who touched me?”
She was brought into a community that would have denied her very existence.
The miracle had already been done. She received the healing she had come for…
Wholeness though, is so multifaceted.
We can be pulled toward wholeness and we can feel wholeness drift away.
Maybe she thought she would be quick, go unnoticed
and just have a one-way meeting with Jesus.
But there is no one-way meeting with Jesus.
You cannot go unnoticed.
In her desperate movement through people that
saw her as nothing, she becomes visible.
Healing emerges as she stands before the community
and is seen.
The crowd, this woman, and Jesus are caught in holy moment of “seeing.”
We can look to “see” and we can look to
“understand.”
Jesus always saw past presentations
and into truths. Glaring toward the edges
and embracing the excluded.
With the brush of a hem, 
truth came to a crowded street.
Healing came to a woman who had no place.
Healing came to a community that needed to see that she deserved a place.
What do you see?
Are watching the crowd?
Are you “in it” now? 
Are you pushing through, desperate to be seen?
In whatever role you find yourself today,
let the words of Jesus resound, “Go in peace,
and be healed.” Take those words into your
worlds, embodying them for yourselves and
for others.
The untruths we have long told ourselves and
the truths that society has thrust upon us
cannot keep us from the Lord of Lords searching
us out to bring us toward wholeness.
The things that steal life from us and the
systems that tell us that we are less than…
All of those things that make us feel
shunned, secluded or scorned,
they cannot keep us from the view of Jesus.
Even if you are weary, you are welcome.
Even if you come with grief-stricken hopefulness,
you are not alone.
Beloved children, you are always and forever seen.
Thank you, Jesus. Amen.
Healing rain is coming down
It's coming nearer to this old town
The rich and poor,
the weak and strong
It's bringing mercy,
it won't be long
Healing rain is coming down
It's coming closer to the lost and found
Tears of joy and tears of shame
Are washed forever in Jesus' name
Healing rain, it comes with fire
So let it fall and take us higher
Healing rain, I'm not afraid
To be washed in Heaven's rain
Lift your heads, let us return
To the mercy seat where time began
And in your eyes I see the pain
Come soak this dry heart with healing rain
And only you, the Son of Man
Could take a leper and let him stand
So lift your hands, they can be held
By someone greater, the Great I Am
to be washed in heaven's rain.
The healing rain is falling down
Healing rain is falling down
I'm not afraid
I'm not afraid
Healing rain is falling down
Healing rain is falling down
I'm not afraid
I'm not afraid
Before we begin this morning’s time of prayer,
I want to recognize prayer requests for this
community and the world.
Protests continue throughout the U.S. and
tensions continue to grow, particularly this
week in Wisconsin.
Black men were shot; one
struggles still for his life.
Wildfires and hurricanes leave destruction behind.
Covid-19 continues to disrupt the whole of our lives,
while both the vulnerable and healthy succumb to the disease.
Indeed, for our world, there is much for which we must pray.
Among your UPC family, I have been given two
specific requests.
We pray for Patty Ewing’s friends.
The first is Di, who was recently
diagnosed with Covid-19.
We are thankful she has been able to go home and are praying for her full recovery.
The second is Tamara, who was  evacuated from her home because of the wildfires in CA.
She also recently lost her spouse.
We should pray for her continued healing and peace,
as well as her safety.
But we want you to know
that she is safely with her son now.
I remind you to pray also for your leadership.
 
We pray especially for Pat, Jeff,
 all of the staff and your elders at UPC.
This is an unprecedented time
and your leadership is being faced with new and difficult decisions almost daily.
This is a difficult time to lead and be the church.
I encourage you to keep your leaders close
to your hearts in prayer.
I am sure there are many other unspoken requests.
As we move throughout the prayer time, I encourage
you to offer them all – 
from your heart to God’s heart.
We are in the midst of an unusual time.
We have been quickly burdened by much.
In such a short time this year, we have been faced
with some very new and very real fears.
Today, I would like to lead an extended time of prayer
that acknowledges this time and leaves space
for all that we are experiencing.
You are welcome to close your eyes, or to
keep them open and admire the flames of the
candles being lit. Because it is an extended
time of prayer, do whatever is comfortable
for you to take in this quiet meditative moment.
Friends, you have been worshipping together,
and yet apart for some weeks now. During these
weeks, our world has seen much.
Some of you may not have left your house in
weeks, maybe months.
Some of you have left your homes in protest and seeking justice.
Some of you have worked through this time on the front lines. Others educated children.
Some of you have found yourselves busier than usual
and some of you may have found yourselves
quite alone.
There is grief and, perhaps, anxiety, within us.
What we are facing collectively is new and difficult.
We begin today simply by lighting a single
candle (later on two more) and by grieving
all that holds darkness for us in this moment.
As the candles are lit, remember that we are a people that believes that light always pierces the darkness.
Allow the dancing flame to hold
hope for you,
even as we lift up words of lament in the name of Christ who is light.
Let us pray together.
We pour out our hearts to you, Eternal One.
You who were the glimmer of hope in the darkness of a stable;
You who were the victor of the tomb:
You who promised the Spirit in power…
We cry out to you, Jesus, and we grieve.
We grieve the loss of life that we may be
able to see in numbers but cannot fully comprehend.
We grieve the ways we have been part of a system 
that hasn’t valued Black, Brown and Indigenous lives.
We pray for an earth which sighs deeply as
she is ravaged.
We may be overwhelmed with news images too terrifying to see, yet we cannot “unsee” them.
So, we allow ourselves to feel the sorrow that comes with seeing a present we were unprepared to live in.
We grieve systems of power we feel
unprepared to challenge,
and the ways we have benefited from them.
We acknowledge the voices that
remain unheard and press into this historical
moment that we may hear.
We grieve the brokenness of our relationships,
and the ways that our present may have magnified
the hardship of severed relations.
For all that we have loved and lost,
given and not received, we grieve.
We allow ourselves to acknowledge the events 
that will no longer happen.
We remember the dreams that have been crushed,
the expectations that have crumbled,
and the hopes that have been dashed within in us.
We grieve all of the places 
that remain longing in our hearts.
We simply allow the grief to “be.”
It is uncomfortable.
We shift around in this discomfort because
maybe this is first time that we have acknowledged our own heartache.
When we are ready and able, we will release
these things.
We breathe in life,
even as we hold and acknowledge grief.
We release them because we do not need to hold them.
We know that Christ holds all for us,
and when we are ready, He will be there,
for He has been with us all along.
In this moment, we embrace and give thanks
for sweet memories that will continue to lead
us into expectation.
The God who created out of nothing, can and
will create something new in us –
even in this moment.
(match strikes)
We look around and see chaos;
we can’t help but see it 
because it is on every news channel,
in every newspaper, and on the internet every
time we pick up our devices.
We are overwhelmed.
And for some reason, it seems to only highlight
the places where we already feel cracked.
For all of the places where we need healing,
and for life’s messiness, which limits us
from God’s wholeness, we allow the light
to flicker in – if only but for a moment.
We are satisfied with this moment, pressing
ourselves into it.
That’s enough, and it is full.
We acknowledge the pain of loss, which makes
us feel so broken:
loss of people we love, loss of trust in those governing, loss of jobs, loss of health,
loss of security,
loss of the marriages and funerals 
we can no longer attend,
loss of the graduations, and proms,
the school days and recess times,
loss of
normalcy,
loss of the little things that bring us joy.
We acknowledge and embrace the pain, O God,
and we offer it to you, asking that into our
wounded hearts and open hands you will place
the gift of peace, shalom, wholeness.
(match strikes)
As we light the third candle
we remember the stories of our faith.
(blows out match)
In faith we are given the gifts of light, 
and breath, and hope.
God offers to us and fills us with these precious
gifts… over and over again.
Before there was anything, there was the faithful
One who breathed breath over the waters to
create. Out of the chaos of darkness came
light, and it was good.
We remember that the LORD went before Israel
by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them along
the way, and by night in a pillar of fire
to give them light, that they might travel
by day and by night, guiding them faithfully
on their journey.
We remember that the Son of Man breathed the
breath of new life into dead bones, because
even when all seems lost, there is hope.
We remember the light given to us in stories
of Hanukkah and of Christmas, which both began
in abandonment, insecurity, and humbleness,
in a time of war, and in a poor and quiet stable.
We remember that the loving God who kept the
light shining in the temple and who came to
share this life with us promises us comfort
and peace.
We remember too, that with faith, must come perseverance.
We give thanks for the communion of saints.
Our stories are a part of a greater story.
We are but one little light, in a sea of great light.
Though we may not understand where our own
stories fit into the stories of faith, we
hold onto the stories we have been told.
The Lord knows your whole story. You are seen.
You are known.
The Spirit of God has made you; the breath of the Almighty gives you life.
Breathe in this story. Breathe in life.
In the name of the one who is life,
we pray the prayer he taught us, 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.
And 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.
One of the best parts about being a guest
preacher, is that we are always another set of “eyes.”
It’s a privilege to be able
to say to your community, “I see you.”
I see the Kingdom work you are doing.
I see your heart, courage and compassion.
You are providing incredible creative online
worship, all while continuing to serve your
neighbors by creating an emergency fund
in addition to the ongoing ministry of your food pantry.
I have even participated in zoom Bible
study with you!
You continue to be challenged and relevant
in this historical moment.
As I say, “thank you,” to you for all the work that you've done, and are doing in this world,
I also want to continue to encourage you to walk this path of light.
Though we won’t be passing around an  actual offering plate today,
I remind you that there are many ways you can give to support the work of this community of faith,
including online giving at upcendicott.org.
The gifts of time, talent, and treasure that
you give weekly, are bearing fruit in God’s world.
Press on together with love as you
give and serve.
Let us pray together.
We give thanks for the ways that you gather
us and send us, O Lord.
For the ways that you connect us, even when we are apart, we give you thanks.
For the ways we are invited to love and serve our neighbors, we give You thanks.
May we be drawn deeper into your embrace
as we are sent into your world to do the work
of Christ Jesus,
allow us to love and serve in creative and liberating new ways.
In Christ's name we pray, Amen.
What do you see? Are watching the crowd?
Are you “in it” now?
Are you pushing through, desperate to be seen?
There is nothing that can make you so dirty,
diseased or desolate
that you can be taken from the gaze of Jesus.
So go in peace to
be healed and to heal.
The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord be kind and gracious to you.
The Lord look upon you with favor
And give you peace, now and forever more. Amen.
