The Message

On this Fourth Sunday of Advent, the words we’re focusing on as part of our Advent sermon series are “Hope Is Worth the Risk.”
 
This is a really tough one to preach on because it is incredibly vulnerable to hope.
 
Hope can feel like a tremendous risk, and the more hope we have in something, the greater the risk of disappointment.
 
Disappointment isn’t the only risk, either.
 
There is the risk of heartbreak – of giving yourself fully to someone or something and then having your heart shattered when you dared to hope.
 
Have you ever found yourself resisting hope because you fear that if you become emotionally invested, you might “jinx” the situation and then be disappointed when it doesn’t work out?
 
Of course! I think we have all been there.
 
And yet, if we aren’t willing to take the risk - to be vulnerable and allow ourselves to hope - we become cynical.
 
Cynicism feels like a safer, more straightforward path.
 
But cynicism doesn’t change our lives, nor does it change the world. Hope changes our lives, and hope changes the world.
 
I’ll give you an example.
 
When I finally started thinking about becoming a pastor, I was incredibly cynical.
 
I was cynical about the process, I was cynical about my abilities to do the job, and I was even cynical about my decision to even try to seek ordination.
 
It was so much easier for me to tell myself it was unlikely that I would make it through the process because it would hurt less if I failed.
 
I was putting a lot of time, money, and energy into walking this path, and I wasn’t even certain anything would come of it.
 
In fact, I wasn’t even overly optimistic about it, and I didn’t even dare to hope, at least initially.
 
But, my first meeting with the ordination committee went better than I could have expected, and some of those cynical thoughts I had started to ease a little.
 
And then my second meeting went fairly well too.
 
And then the third. And before I knew it, I was becoming more confident that they weren’t going to boot me out of the program.
 
And finally, I began to dare to hope that maybe all of this work I was doing and the risks I was taking would be worth it.
 
And of course, now I know it was.
 
But interestingly, it easier now to look back at that period in my life and recognize that what I thought was cynicism was actually hope.
 
If I had no hope and I hadn’t put that hope into action and kept moving along the path, I would not have made it this far.
 
This past week, I attended something called a “Clergy Cluster” with some pastoral colleagues from the Lutheran church.
 
We discussed the passage we read today – Mary’s song, also known as the Magnificat.
 
And we talked about the hope that Mary had, despite the incredible risk of opening her body and her heart to the idea of bearing the child of the Holy Spirit.
 
But, I’m not sure that Mary saw it as hope at the time.
 
I think Mary was scared. She was an unwed teenager, and I guarantee she, like me, thought more than once “why me, God? I am nothing special, and I am not sure I’m strong enough or brave enough to do what you’re asking of me.”
 
And yet, her actions, her willingness to accept her role despite her uncertainty, demonstrated radical hope and incredible vulnerability.
 
I can only imagine that resisting hope felt easier in the moment.
 
But by the time she sings her song, it is a beautiful song of hope and of courage.
 
Mary voices a hope that challenges the status quo and sings of a reality where justice and mercy reigns.
 
She sings of bringing down the mighty, exalting the humble, filling the hungry, and leaving the rich empty.
 
She and Elizabeth share their hopes and their fears with one another. They cry, they sing, they lament, and they hope beyond hope that everything will work out in the end.
 
Mary weaves through her song a vision of the world as God intends it, stitching together a pattern of justice and mercy.
 
Mary reminds us that hope is worth the risk. We can choose cynicism because it’s the easier path, or we can choose hope because it is the courageous path.
 
We can choose hope because, even though there is a possibility that we will be disappointed, we do not have a chance of changing ourselves, our lives, or our world without hope.
 
We must be willing to take the risk, like Mary and Joseph and Elizabeth, because our hope is a reflection of God’s plans for the world – plans for renewal and restoration in the face of despair and hopelessness.
 
Practicing hope is not easy, we know this.
 
There are people in the world who are suffering more than we could ever imagine. It feels disingenuous to tell those who are suffering to simply have hope.
 
We know it is not that easy.
 
But, what if we who are able practiced hope on behalf of those who are weary and worn down and becoming hopeless?
 
Could our expressions of hope become a life raft for others?
 
Could we actively work to set aside our cynicism, or at least become aware of it when it penetrates our consciousness? Could we instead make hope a meaningful spiritual practice?
 
Could we think of hope as a muscle – one that can be worked, flexed, strengthened, and stretched?
 
If we imagine hope as action, rather than mere optimism, it becomes easier to see how hope is worth the risk.
 
Doing the work and being vulnerable to hope allows us to change our lives, the lives of those around us, and perhaps even the world.
 
So, hold onto hope despite the risks.
 
The voice of cynicism can be loud, but cynicism also often lies to us.
 
But, hope is worth fighting for.
 
May the Spirit of God surround you this season so that you might trust like Joseph and sing like Mary.
 
The same hope they held is still alive today, transforming creation into God’s will for justice and peace.
 
As you prepare your heart for Christ’s arrival, may you make room for God’s presence, and may your actions reflect God’s hope for humanity. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
 
Holy God, The stories of Advent are stories many of us have heard before. We’ve arranged the nativity scenes. We’ve read the children’s books. We’ve seen the movies. We’ve sung the songs. But as we come to your scripture this morning, we pray: help us begin again. Clear the distractions from our minds. Center us in this space. Move through the protective barriers we surround ourselves with and speak to us here and now. We are listening. We are hopeful. Amen.
 
 Sermon References:
 Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.
 Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

​Young at Heart Message
 
Let’s channel our inner child for a moment and pretend that we are sitting around a large pool of water. The water is still – so still that it could be glass. Can you picture it?
 
Now, I have a bowl of rocks here. Each rock has a word on it. Words like “passion, trust, focus, hope, and happiness.”
 
These rocks are special rocks because, as they are tossed into the pool, the ripples they create will manifest the words on the rocks in each of us.
 
But, they do require some energy from the person who tosses them into the pool. As a rock is tossed into the pool, it drains a small amount of energy from the person tossing the rock.
 
So, for example, if I throw a rock that says “happiness” into the pool, happiness would ripple outward to each of you, but it would drain a small amount of my own energy at the same time.
 
Now, what do you suppose would happen if I dumped all of these rocks with their words on them into the pool at once?
 
Essentially, it would make one huge splash, there would be one huge ripple effect, and you would each get blasted with love, hope, focus, trust, happiness, and whatever else all at once. And, a lot of my own energy would drain in the process.
 
That one big ripple manifesting all of these words at once might be powerful initially, but because all of the rocks are going in at once, they are essentially creating one ripple. So the impact that each rock, and therefore each word, has on you might be quite small by the time it reaches you.
 
Not to mention, I will have just spent a lot of my own energy sending these words to manifest in you all at once.
 
But, what if, instead, I passed this bowl of rocks around to each of you, and each of us threw just one rock into the pool?
 
Each of us would spend much less energy throwing the rocks into the pool, and the ripple effect would last much longer. We would each receive the ripples from each individual rock, and collectively, we would all have more than enough energy left so that we wouldn’t feel totally drained.
 
Let’s try that now. I will pass the bowl around. I would like each of you to take one rock from the bowl and toss it into the imaginary pool. As you do, say the word on your rock and imagine the ripples expanding outward to everyone in the room.
 
How did it feel to be able to give people this positive energy?
 
How did it feel to receive so much positive energy?
 
The Message
 
Today we are continuing with the Advent theme, Words for the Beginning. The words we are focusing on for today’s message are “Do the work that is yours to do.”
 
This is such an important message, especially in a community full of people who love to give.
 
As givers, we tend to want to do everything we can to help people. That in itself is not a bad thing. But, if we aren’t careful, we may overdo it.
 
We could end up draining our own energy to the point where we are no longer able to give more of ourselves. Or, we can spread ourselves too thin.
 
For example, as a pastor I am often asked to participate in different ministries. I used to feel obligated to try to get involved with as many different organizations as I could.
 
However, in doing so, I was spreading myself too thin, and I wasn’t really able to make an impact in any of the organizations. I was “involved” insofar as I might receive their newsletter or attend a meeting or two, but I didn’t have time or energy to do much more than that.
 
Essentially, I was dropping all of my rocks into the pool at once, which minimized what each group or organization received from me, and completely drained my own energy or passion for ministry or service.
 
I began to realize that the best way for me to make any kind of impact was to focus on the things that gave me life and energized me, and let others do the things that gave them life and energized them.
 
In other words, I started to realize that I could only do the work that was mine to do. That meant doing the work that tapped into my own skills and abilities and that actually gave me energy rather than draining me.
 
It is not easy to discern what that work is all the time, because I am still often asked to do things that are outside of my skill set or my areas of passion or interest. And, it can create feelings of guilt to say no to something.
 
It is interesting, and of course intentional, that one of our scripture readings today was John the Baptizer scolding the crowd for wanting to be baptized without having given up their sins.
 
When the crowd asks what they should do about it, John tells them to share what they have with those in need. For example, if someone has two coats, he suggests giving one to someone in need. Likewise, if someone has more than enough food, he suggests sharing with someone who does not have enough food.
 
But then the passage says that when tax collectors came to be baptized, they ask what they can do. (Remember that tax collectors were considered sinners in the eyes of most people at that time because, even though they were doing their jobs, they also were often taking more money than people actually owed.) John tells them not to make people pay more than they owe. In other words, he suggests they ensure they are ethical tax collectors that do their jobs, but with kindness and compassion.
 
Likewise, when the soldiers asked what they could do, he tells them not to ask people to pay money to be left alone. He suggests they should be happy with the pay they receive, rather than greedily demanding more money from the people.
 
John was giving the people examples of the work that was specifically theirs to do. The tax collectors had the unique responsibility of collecting taxes ethically. That was their good work to do.
 
The crowd at large was encouraged to look at the things they had and decide if there was anything they had more than enough of that they could share.
 
John wasn’t asking everyone in the crowd to dump all of their rocks into the metaphorical pool at once. He was asking them to look at their own skills, abilities, and possessions and determine what it is that they could offer the world.
 
And this is the good news that we are invited to receive today: we are responsible for doing the good work that is ours to do. We are not responsible for doing everything.
 
We each have our own unique skills, talents, and resources. And we have a finite amount of energy. Our church collectively also has skills, talents, and resources that we can offer to the community.
 
But we are not meant to feel guilty for the work we cannot do. Rather, we are meant to be proud of the work that is ours to do, and we are invited to continue doing that work.
 
It is also important, I think, to remember that we should not feel guilty, as individuals or as a church, for the things we used to have time, energy, and resources for that we no longer do. We can be proud of the things we were once able to do, and we can be proud of the things we are still able to do.
 
And, we can continue doing the good work that is our to do in this time and place. We have, for example, recently learned that we have the resources, energy, and talents to support a refugee family’s endeavor to land safely and securely in Calgary.
 
We also know that we have the ability to successfully offer opportunities for socializing for seniors. These are two strong ministries – one that has been happening for a while and one that is a newer opportunity for us. But both are ministries that give us energy and life rather than drain it.
 
These are two examples of the good work that is ours to do.
 
We are uniquely situated to bring light into the world. May we find courage this season to do the good that is ours to do. It matters. May we see the ripples of our actions expand outward, touching lives and mending the fabric of our shared humanity. Amen.
 
Let us pray: Listening God, we know that you are constantly speaking to us. Through music, scripture, nature, and relationships, you make yourself known again and again. In gratitude, we long to return the favor. In gratitude, we long to meet you halfway. So in this moment, we are quieting the noise in our heads. We are closing our eyes. We are leaning in. We are listening. We are doing the good that is ours to do. Speak to us through the chaos. Speak to us as only you can. With hope in our hearts we listen, we pray. Amen.
 
Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

The Message

Did you know that in 2023, the US Surgeon General put out a lengthy and detailed report declaring loneliness an epidemic in the US?
 
And it’s not just a US problem, of course.
 
In 2018 (pre-COVID, by the way), the UK appointed its first “Minister for Loneliness.” Japan followed suit in 2021.
 
Australia and New Zealand both have national loneliness reduction strategies, and China has gone so far as to pass a law stating that adult children must visit their parents regularly.
 
And, of course, Canada is not immune to the issue – people here struggle with common problems that are being faced in every first-world nation.
 
Now, we could discuss the causes of this “epidemic,” but we would probably be here all day if we did that.
 
I do think, however, that it is worth mentioning some of the important information from the US Surgeon General’s report:
- 1 in 2 adults reported experiencing loneliness (even before the COVID pandemic)
- Loneliness is associated with greater risk of cardiovascular disease, dementia, stroke, depression, anxiety, and premature death
- The consequences of loneliness impact our schools, workplaces, and civic organizations
 
One of the most important things the Surgeon General says in his report is, “We are called to build a movement to mend the social fabric of our nation.”
 
Of course, he’s referring to the US specifically, but this sounds like a profound call to our churches to help build a movement to mend the social fabric of our communities.
 
Interestingly, I wonder how much of an impact the “Minister for Loneliness,” or the loneliness reduction strategies have had in other countries?
 
The reason I wonder is because it seems unlikely that any kind of government program to counteract loneliness could be truly effective.
 
For starters, people have to want to address their own loneliness. But secondly, people have to want to address loneliness for others, as well.
 
Certainly, we feel a sense of empathy for those who feel loneliness.
 
But I wonder how many people actually articulate to others that they feel lonely?
 
How many people even recognize loneliness in themselves?
 
Loneliness can be hard to address because it falls on a spectrum.
 
We can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.
 
We can be in a relationship with another person and feel lonely if our needs for connection aren’t being met.
 
Likewise, some of us can be perfectly content to spend a lot of time alone, and yet still be socially isolated.
 
Additionally, social media users can have hundreds or even thousands of “friends” or “followers,” and still feel lonely when they see those “friends” sharing the incredible things happening in their lives.
 
Sometimes, our life circumstances can create feelings of loneliness.
 
Moving away from friends and family can be socially isolating, especially when it has become harder and harder for adults to make friends.
 
Similarly, having a friend or family member that you are close to move away can create feelings of loneliness for people who depended on their presence back home.
 
It is truly no wonder that 1 in 2 adults struggles with feelings of loneliness.
 
Loneliness is very much a modern phenomenon.
 
A lot of this is a function of how we live today, and the push toward independence instead of communal living.
 
We are far more individualistic today.
 
We have also seen a significant decline in the number of people who participate in religious communities or faith communities, and we have seen a rise in online social media platforms where people are simultaneously connected to more people electronically but disconnected from people in the real world.
 
So, where does this leave us? It all sounds quite hopeless.
 
If lawmakers and government officials can’t solve the problem, how do we even begin to address it?
 
Well, I think the Surgeon General said it best when he said “we are called to build a movement to mend the social fabric” of our communities and, by extension, of the world.
 
No one person is going to be able to step in and wave a magic wand to fix loneliness.
 
Rather, this needs to be addressed on the local and on the individual level.
 
We need to be practicing kindness and compassion as much as possible.
 
I also think we probably need to be committing to stepping away from social media and our cell phones more often and interacting with real people instead.
 
However, to do that, we need to actively choose to involve ourselves in some kind of community.
 
I worry about our younger generations in this sense, including my own.
 
How do we create a movement, especially with younger generations, when they have known nothing but social media as a primary way of connecting with people?
 
I know that many people worry about how involved in sports and other recreational activities our young people are, but I see this as a positive for them because at least they are socializing and connecting with people in real life.
 
The people I worry about most right now is mid-life adults.
 
Adults my own age, who may or may not have children and families, but who often work from home alone all day and struggle to get involved in things outside of work.
 
I can attest to the difficulty of finding and maintaining friendships as an adult. Developing new friendships is especially difficult as we get older, and because our lives are busy, it can also be difficult to find the energy to involve ourselves in community.
 
What can we do to help and support others?
 
Like Ruth, we need to choose kindness, and we might need to sacrifice a bit for others.
 
Ruth chooses to stay with her mother-in-law, Naomi, rather than seek to find another husband.
 
She maintains the important connection with Naomi in a world where the social norm would have been for her to move on to another husband and forget about Naomi completely.
 
But doing that would have left both women lonely and isolated.
 
Instead, Ruth chooses kindness. Together, they form a new family and a new covenant with one another.
 
This new family they formed was built not on blood, but on kinship. 
 
Ruth dared to believe that her life was better intertwined with Naomi’s.
 
Neither of them were meant to journey alone, and Ruth believed that wholeheartedly.
 
When loneliness begins to creep in on us, it can cause us to start to think that we are the only person carrying the weight of loneliness.
 
Feeling alone in the struggle causes a cascade of other thoughts of inadequacy, insecurity, and insignificance.
 
The good news is that the only way for us to really address this problem is to cultivate compassionate community.
 
The reason this is good news is because we already do this quite well here at this church.
 
And our call as individuals the moment we step out of this building is to continue cultivating compassionate community.
 
That said, the statistics would seem to indicate that if 1 in 2 adults struggle with loneliness, it could be the case that about half of us in this room feel a sense of loneliness despite our connection to this community of faith.
 
Those feelings of loneliness can be especially strong this time of year, when many people struggle with loneliness or grief.
 
But we cannot go alone, nor were we meant to.
 
If you are one who is finding yourself dealing with feelings of loneliness, I encourage you to connect with someone you trust and share those feelings.
 
It can be someone in this community, or it can be another trusted person. It will mean being vulnerable, which isn’t easy.
 
But don’t let those feelings consume you.
 
We can each commit to kindness and compassion, to helping the stranger, or to extending an invitation.
 
But we also need to commit ourselves to sharing in our grief and loneliness because we are not meant to walk this path alone.
 
There are people in this community who would be happy to walk with you, talk with you, or listen as you share.
 
I would encourage you to reach out to someone if you are able.
 
It can be incredibly hard to admit to feeling lonely, but if we can’t admit it to ourselves and we don’t feel like we can share it with others, then we will perpetuate our own cycle of loneliness.
 
And this is where the call to build a movement comes into play.
 
Movements begin with individuals and small groups who are committed to speaking the truth in a kind and compassionate way.
 
Our movement may begin within the walls of this church but could very quickly expand into our own communities.
 
If we are called to create a movement to begin mending the social fabric of our communities, then let it begin with each of us.
 
Let us work together to break the cycles of loneliness. Let us walk with one another and remind each other often that “we cannot go alone, nor were we meant to go alone.”
 
Beloved, you are not alone on this winding journey.
 
May the companionship of fellow sojourners reflect the love of the One who – in becoming flesh – chose to journey alongside us.
 
May the quilt of life warm you from the chill of isolation, and may the Spirit move you to compassion as you cultivate community, even in times of uncertainty. Amen.
​
Let us pray: Holy God, The words of this world whip around us like a mighty wind. We are caught up in news reports, in text messages, in emails and notifications. We are drowning in updates from the media, caught off guard by the constant hum of it all. But here on this bright morning we remember: you too are speaking. Still the voices around us. Calm our minds and center our hearts so that we can hear your words above the wind. We are leaning closer. We are at the edge of our chairs. We are beginning again. Speak to us, as only you can. Amen.
 
“Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.”

Sermon References: Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.
C2C Journal: Ideas that Lead | https://c2cjournal.ca/2023/01/a-kingdom-of-one-the-great-loneliness-pandemic-and-what-not-to-do-about-it/
Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation; 2023 US Surgeon General’s Advisory on the Healing Effects of Social Connection and Community

​Young at Heart Message
 
Advent is a season of endings and beginnings.
 
As the calendar year comes to a close, a new church year begins.
 
Christ’s birth ushers us into new ways of living and loving; and yet, the world as we know it spins madly on.
 
This year’s Advent theme is “Words for the Beginning.”
 
Once again, we will be using A Sanctified Art’s Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany materials.
 
This year, we will explore an Advent series filled with the words we need to hear over and over again as we begin a new year.
 
Today’s words that I think we all need to hear often, throughout our lives, are “You are a blessing.”
 
I don’t know about you, but growing up, the theology I was raised on took a bit more negative outlook.
 
Instead of feeling like a blessing, I often felt like a burden.
 
Being taught at an early age that we are all sinners, or that bad things happen to us because we weren’t faithful enough or we did something wrong to deserve punishment did not exactly leave me believing I was a blessing on this world.
 
If anything, I internalized the idea that I should take up as little space as possible in this world – something that I have spent years trying to unlearn.
 
It may become obvious very quickly that the imagery used in this year’s Advent theme is that of quilting.
 
I initially wondered why they were using quilting as part of the theme this year, but I realized that it’s because quilts are brilliant metaphors for life.
 
This concept of having things that we were taught as young people that we need to unlearn is not unique. Most of us have things we learned as children or young adults that we must now unlearn as we journey through life.
 
Now, I’m not an expert on quilting, but if there are quilters in the room, how easy is it to unstitch something that has already been stitched into a quilt?
 
My understanding is that it’s doable, but rather inconvenient and difficult, and sometimes it is obvious that stitches have been removed and re-stitched.
 
In other words, we may be able to unstitch and re-stitch sections of our quilt (or unlearn and relearn things in our lives), but we may not be able to completely hide the evidence of either. 
 
I asked some of the members of our congregation who are quilters if they would be willing to send me some pictures of some of the quilts they have created in their lives.
 
Merlyn sent her photos with a note saying, “don’t look too closely, these aren’t perfectly sewn, but hopefully they’re at least warm.”
 
What a perfect metaphor for our lives! Don’t look too closely, because I’m not perfect, but hopefully I have a few good qualities!

It may be easy to look at these quilts and see the finished product, overlooking the hard work and the individual pieces that went into making them.
 
But, what would happen if we took out one section of these quilts?
 
The quilts would be incomplete!
 
On their own, each individual piece of fabric in these quilts may seem insignificant, but the quilt would not be the same without any one of those pieces.
 
And the same is true for us in life.
 
Our lives would not be the same without the people, words, and messages that have made us who we are – good, bad, or otherwise.
 
Remove a single piece of the quilt, and it is not the same piece of art. Similarly, remove a piece of our past, and we are not the same self.
 
This year’s Advent theme begins with blessedness because it is Mary’s beginning, and it is our beginning as well.
 
This statement, “You are a blessing,” is a radical statement considering that too many people are taught – whether implicitly or explicitly (through cultural norms and expectations, media, role models, their parents, or their church leaders) – that they are a burden.
 
The message that we are each a blessing can be easily muted, trivialized, or taken away from us.
 
There are many forces in this world that might make us believe that we are not a blessing.
 
When we stop believing that we are a blessing to God, we may stop believing it about others as well.
 
We may begin to think that we are unimportant to God – unimportant in the quilt of our own lives.
 
However, when we are rooted in our blessedness, we can treat every created being as a blessing as well.
 
We can recognize our own importance to God, to creation, and to the people around us.
 
The Message

This is where we meet Mary in today’s scripture passage.
 
She has forgotten, or perhaps she doesn’t truly believe, what the Book of Isaiah says, that “I have called you by name. To me, you are very dear, and I love you.”
 
Mary is an ordinary girl from Nazareth. She did not have power or prestige. She did not believe she had a significant role to play in the world.
 
And yet, she was blanketed in belovedness nonetheless.
 
Advent welcomes us to reflect on how we are invited into God’s redemptive narrative.
 
Like Mary, we may feel ordinary or small, but we too have the potential to carry God’s love into a weary world.
 
In our Gospel reading today, the story of Mary and the angel Gabriel demonstrates how God might choose someone the world might overlook to be part of something beautiful.
 
Gabriel’s message to Mary – “You are truly blessed! The Lord is with you” – is a declaration of Mary’s essential place in the divine quilt.
 
Mary’s response to Gabriel – “How can this be?” – is profoundly human. She doesn’t necessarily believe that she is an important piece of the quilt.
 
And yet, Gabriel reassures her by saying “Do not be afraid.” It is a clear reminder that even when we worry or wonder if we matter in the vast expanse of the universe, God knows our heart, acknowledges our fear, and moves toward us.
 
The passage from Isaiah provides additional comfort, promising that we are never alone, even in the darkest moments when it feels like we are lost.
 
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire, you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”
 
In a world often consumed by pain, suffering, and injustice, it is a gift to remember that we are formed and made by a God who loves us and doesn’t leave us.
 
You are a blessing because the One from whom all blessings flow sees you, knows you, and calls you by name.
 
By embracing our inherent blessedness as a starting point, we open our hearts to recognize and affirm the blessedness in others, which transforms our interactions and communities.
 
God's perfect love invites us to live out our belovedness by entering into the good work of the quilt God’s hand began sewing many years ago.
 
May you remember that you are a blessing – known, chosen, and called for a purpose.
 
May you boldly live into this truth, recognizing and cherishing your inherent worth so that you may honor God’s image in others.
 
Trust in your belovedness as you enter the redemptive work God has invited you into this Advent season. Amen.
 
Affirming God, How often do you speak to us, and how often do we miss it? How often do you whisper blessings over us that we refuse to hear? Open our hearts. Create space in us to not only hear these words, but to believe the good news tucked between them. We are hungry for your wisdom, so help us hear you. With hope and curiosity, we listen. With hope and curiosity, we dare to begin again. Amen.
 
“Prayer by Rev. Sarah (Are) Speed | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.”
 
Sermon References: Commentary by Kayla Craig | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.