Isaiah 53:4&5 says this about the Jesus on the cross, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” Let us pray.

Father, in your infinite love, wisdom, and mercy, you saw our sins that separated us from you and made a way to bring us back home. But it came at great sacrifice, letting your Son leave your side in heaven to come to earth as one of us and give his life.

Jesus, thank you for your willingness to be that sacrifice. When you could have left in a blink of an eye, choosing instead to be stricken and afflicted for our transgressions. For our iniquities. Our chastisement. Thank you for bringing peace and the hope of healing.

In response, you have called us to present our bodies as living and holy sacrifices, which is our service of worship to you. So in this Lenten season, we think of what it means to offer something to you, to fast from something that distracts us from you.

We confess that we are often distracted, sometimes bogged down in the busyness of life, sometimes just looking to other things for comfort, for reassurance, for belonging. We reach for our phone. We reach for food. We reach for a drink. Teach us to reach for you. Show us where we are substituting the world for you. Then change us from the inside, we pray. And if we don’t yet want to change Lord, we begin by asking you to give us the desire to change.

Fasts can be scary, Lord. Giving up food, or habits, or attitudes, or even starting something new in the pursuit of you, is daunting. We know we are weak. But we know you are strong. Remind us that in our own strength we will never succeed. But in relying on you, we are strong and grow closer to you. So we ask that you bring to mind something, some way in which we can stretch our faith muscles by making a sacrifice to you for the next six weeks.

(Please use this moment of silence to consider a Lenten fast)

Lord, thank you for how you reveal truth in our lives, and how you use your Spirit to speak to us and convict us of sin so we can see your ways more clearly. Thank you for your faithfulness, so we can trust that you will be with us to give us strength every minute of every day.

We offer these fasts to you. Remind us as we struggle through them of the ultimate sacrifice you made so that we may praise you daily.

Amen

Describing the Last Supper before Jesus was crucified, John chapter 13 says this:

Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around His waist. Then He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around Him.

Then He told them this: If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you. Let us pray. Jesus, we have gathered here today to worship you as Lord and to learn from you as our teacher. We praise you for coming as a king, to rule over our hearts, and as a priest, to lead us to the Father, and as our rabbi, teaching us Truth. We thank you for conquering sin and death, giving us new life. But you did more. You washed feet. Even though you were God in human form. Even though you possess everything on heaven and on earth. Instead of exercising your tremendous power, you knelt before the disciples and tenderly washed their dirty (stinky?) feet, taking the role of the lowliest servant. And then told them to do the same. Lord, give us that kind of humble heart. Give us eyes to see that every individual, every single one, is made in your image and loved by you. Forgive us for judging others who are different from us. Forgive us for overlooking the hurting and oppressed from our seats of comfort. Forgive us for seeing ourselves and our needs as more important than anything or anyone else. You are the good shepherd, tender and merciful. We want to be like you. Guide our feet to go where you want us to go. Soften our hearts to love unconditionally. Use our hands to care for those who need your touch. Speak through our mouths to offer words of encouragement. We give our whole selves to you, because you gave your whole self to us. 

Amen

Isaiah 53: 2 and 3, referring to the Messiah, says “For He grew up before Him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of parched ground; He has no stately form or majesty that we should look upon Him, Nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him. He was despised and forsaken of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and like one from whom men hide their face, He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.”

Let us pray.

Father, you sent Jesus to the parched ground, a world desperate for a savior. The perfect answer to all our needs. Yet we confess that we do not esteem you like we should. Instead of giving honor and respect to the One who created every cell in our body and every star in the sky, we give honor and respect to those with stately forms, physical beauty, worldly accomplishments.

We know your ways are good and sure and true, yet too often we despise your plans for us. We know you hold all wisdom, yet we are quick to forsake your guidance. We know you always have been and always will be, yet we tend to ignore your sovereignty. And we know you are Love personified, full of grace and mercy. Yet, in our weakness, we grieve you. We turn our backs on you, refuse communication with you, or even deny knowing you. Sometimes in big ways. Sometimes in small ways. But rejection nonetheless.

But you keep calling. You keep pursuing us, sending people our way to remind us you are there. Bringing your words to mind when we are about to go astray. Welcoming us when we return. We thank you that you never give up on us.

During this Lenten season, draw us near. We are so weak in our attempts to give you glory. We fail in our efforts to make you a priority. Send your Spirit to guide, direct, and nudge us closer to you. Under it all, we are parched ground, thirsty for you.

May we be a people that esteems you. That worships you and only you. 

Amen

Heavenly Father, the world we live in is broken. We look around and see poverty … war … violence … oppression … hatred. They tarnish your once-perfect creation. We are frustrated that we can’t fix the problems and help all those who are hurting. It is too much. We are weary.

For many of us, we are the ones who are broken. We suffer from loss, loneliness, addiction, illness. We feel stuck in broken bodies, broken minds, broken families.

Sometimes the only prayer we can utter is “I. am. broken.”

But it’s a prayer that you hear. You bend your ear toward us, lean in, and wipe our tears.

And we are reminded that you were broken, too. Voluntarily offering yourself, explaining “This is my body, broken for you.”

Through that brokenness, we have hope that we aren’t actually stuck. That it won’t be this way forever.

Lord, we give you the shattered pieces of our broken lives and broken world and lay them at your feet so you can make them into something beautiful. Renew in us faith strong enough to trust you, and give us joy, unexplainable joy, so we can shine your light to those around us.

Amen

The Bible tells us this about the night Jesus was betrayed:

36 Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and told His disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” 37 And He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee with Him, and began to be grieved and distressed. 38 Then He said to them, “My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death; remain here and keep watch with Me.” And He went a little beyond them, and fell on His face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will.”

Let us pray.

Lord Jesus, we are in awe of the selflessness that you showed in willingly going to the cross. But here we see how hard it actually was. That you were deeply grieved. That you were distressed. That you asked your Father if it couldn’t be avoided.

And we realize this was the crucial moment that would change everything. When you decided to obey the Father and follow His will instead of your own. We praise you, Jesus, for that obedience.

Thank you for sharing this part of your experience with us. As the sovereign God who gave us the Scriptures, you could have maintained an image that was strong and unwavering. But you are a personal God, who shares in our weaknesses and empathizes with our fears.

We ARE weak as we struggle to obey you, like your disciples who kept falling asleep after you asked them to watch and pray. We ARE fearful, afraid of what obedience could mean in our lives.

But You have sent the Spirit to us, not just to cheer us on and be an encouragement, but to live inside of us. Thank you for giving us strength as we follow You. Teach us to lean on You, so that we can say, in every area of our lives, “not my will, but Yours”.

Amen

From John Chapter 12:

The next day the large crowd that had come to the feast heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet him, crying out, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!” And Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, just as it is written, “Fear not, daughter of Zion; behold, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!”

Let us pray.

Lord Jesus, today we worship You as our King.

We praise you for your humility, riding on an unassuming donkey instead of a commanding stallion. Your ways are not our ways, and they continually surprise us.

We cry out as they did back then, Hosannah!, which means Save Now! You alone are able to save us. We praise you Jesus.

You are our King. You were king in Jerusalem, though not the king that they wanted. You are King now, ruling at the right hand of God the Father. And someday you will return as the conquering King. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

As we begin this Holy Week, we acknowledge you as the King Eternal. But we remember that the celebration in Jerusalem did not last long. Within days, a sign was carved and placed upon a cross, declaring “This is the King of the Jews”.

Thank you, Jesus. May our praise last forever.

Amen.