The PC(USA) encourages congregation to take note of “Children’s Sabbath” on the third Sunday of October each year. Sponsored by the Children’s Defense Fund, the national observance of Children’s Sabbath unites faith communities of every religious tradition across the nation to raise awareness of problems facing children and families in our nation (such as poverty, gun violence, and lack of health care), and challenges churches to explored ways to nurture, protect and seek justice for children.
We shared “We Pray for Children,” by Ina Hughes, in our worship service at Jackson Springs Presbyterian. This thoughtful prayer was prayed responsively, and reminded us of the different experiences our children face.
“We Pray for Children”
We pray for children
who put chocolate fingers everywhere,
who like to be tickled,
who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,
who sneak popsicles before supper,
who erase holes in math workbooks,
who can never find their shoes.
And we pray for those
who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,
who can’t bound down the street in new sneakers,
who never counted potatoes,
who are born in places we wouldn’t be caught dead in,
who never go to the circus,
who live in an x-rated world.
We pray for children
who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,
who sleep with the cat and bury goldfish,
who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,
who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,
who slurp their soup.
And we pray for those
who never get dessert,
who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,
who can’t find any bread to steal,
who don’t have any rooms to clean up,
whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,
whose monsters are real.
We pray for children
who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,
who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,
who like ghost stories,
who shove dirty clothes under the bed,
who get visits from the tooth fairy,
who don’t like to be kissed in front of the car pool,
who squirm in church and scream on the phone,
whose tears we sometimes laugh at and whose smiles can make us cry.
And we pray for those whose
nightmares come in the daytime,
who will eat anything,
who have never seen a dentist,
who are never spoiled by anyone,
who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,
who live and move, but have no being.
We pray for children
who want to be carried
and for those who must,
for those we never give up on
and for those who never get a second chance,
for those we smother,
and for those who will grab the hand of anybody kind enough to offer it.
We pray for children. Amen.
Children’s Sabbath is only a day, and there’s a lifetime of work to be done on their behalf. Let us pray for children, and let us find ways to work together to nurture, protect and seek justice for children everywhere.
Elizabeth
Yesterday we celebrated the 204th anniversary of the Jackson Springs Presbyterian Church. With continuing “pandemic” uncertainty, there were no folks coming home for the special day, and there was no homecoming luncheon, yet still we celebrated.
Our children heard a story of Scots who sailed across the ocean and up the Cape Fear River to this very spot, to build our church. We were all reminded of the rich heritage reflected in the colors of our Jackson Springs Presbyterian tartan – green for pine trees, black for pine tar, blue for springs and waterfalls, and peach for our delicious peaches! We sang our Bicentennial Hymn – “From highland peaks to Jackson Springs, where healing waters flow; the Scots of old, they made their way, God’s kingdom seeds to sow.”
It was the message and prayer that were most special. I was honored to “preach” a sermon by the Rev. Leland Richardson, beloved son of this church. He preached this sermon at the 50th reunion of the West End High Class of l952, in the fall of 2001. “What Can We Do When Trade Towers Fall?” was filled with memories of 9/11 and the changes the passing of time brings to all our lives.
“Nothing in this world is permanent – nothing tangible we cling to except for a moment- “So passeth in the passing of an hour of mortal life- the leaf-the bird-the flower …What can we do? To whom can we turn when Trade Towers tumble and our worlds come crashing in upon us? Who can give hope and comfort when doors close and voices fall painfully silent? … God is not a fleeting shadow- here today and gone tomorrow. Look up with the eyes of faith and behold Jesus who is the same yesterday, today and forever. Jesus, the Christ – immovable, enduring, the alpha and omega – the beginning and the end – reigning triumphantly in the midst of change and decay wrought by fleeting time …Jesus Christ who is the same yesterday, today and forever.
He lead us through Vietnams, failed marriages and unfulfilled dreams, and long nights of fear and uncertainty … Jesus is the bridge over troubled waters, the doctor in the emergency room; the parent who gently lifts the frightened and crying child in her arms as the night thunder storms rage outside her window. Jesus is the architect who rebuilds our trade towers when they are knocked down … Buildings may crash at the hands of terrorists like Ben Laden; landmarks we knew and came to appreciate and love, like West End High may pass; the place we once called home may be locked or in a state of decay, and the family we knew gone.; industry like the furniture plant may close. Thomas Wolfe’s titled book may be true – “You Can’t Go Home Again.” But that is not the end, not the final word! The final word is right here in our midst – the living Christ, who is the same yesterday, today and forever.”
Words of Rev. Richardson’s Bicentennial Prayer blessed us once again:
“We give thanks for this church that has preached and taught the good news through the years. With grateful hearts, we hear again the voices of those saints who taught us – that you are a God of love, grace and mercy, who came to redeem, not to condemn; to heal, not to hurt; to love, not to despise; to forgive, not to judge”…
The words of our closing hymn were sung from the heart, and in deeper ways than ever before –
“O God our help in ages past,
our hope for years to come,
Be Thou our Guide while life shall last,
and our eternal Home.”
Giving thanks for this year’s homecoming celebration, and for those streams of mercy, never ceasing. “God be with us, til we meet again.”
Elizabeth
Yesterday was World Communion Sunday, and Christians around the world gathered to break bread and share the cup in celebration of our oneness in Jesus Christ.
The observance began in a small Presbyterian church in Pennsylvania in 1933. It was the worst year of the great depression; storms swept across the mid-west dustbowl; Hitler was rising to power, and Japan and Germany withdrew from the League of Nations – all provoking fear and anxiety. Wanting to do something real and symbolic to witness to God’s faithfulness in such a time, World Wide Communion Day was planned, and has been celebrated the first Sunday in October ever since.
In many ways, we find ourselves facing such days once again. While the circumstances are not the same and the players in the drama are different, the events of the days in which we are living provoke fear, anxiety and uncertainty.
Often we feel lost in the mist of life, separated from the “best of times” and left to wander in what sometimes feels like the “worst of times.” It’s important that we came to the table on World Communion Day, and that in coming, we tried to give voice to the pain and suffering in all of life.
I came across this wonderful poem for our celebration in Jackson Springs this year:
And the Table Will Be Wide: A Blessing for World Communion Sunday
And the table will be wide. And the welcome will be wide. And the arms will open wide to gather us in. And our hearts will open wide to receive.
And we will come as children who trust there is enough. And we will come unhindered and free. And our aching will be met with bread. And our sorrow will be met with wine.
And we will open our hands to the feast without shame. And we will turn toward each other without fear. And we will give up our appetite for despair. And we will taste and know of delight.
And we will become bread for a hungering world. And we will become drink for those who thirst. And the blessed will become the blessing. And everywhere will be the feast.
– Jan Richardson
The final verse touched my heart with its challenge to “become bread” for a hungering world and “drink” for those who thirst. As “the blessed” we are to become “the blessing” and when that happens, “everywhere will be the feast.”
After the benediction in worship yesterday, we sang “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands,” and in that moment our faith was strengthened. We are so blessed. May we become the blessing in all of God’s good creation.
Elizabeth