Gathering Music
Welcome and Announcements
Prelude
"The Song the World Still Sings"
Music and Lyrics by Jenn Richards
Service Introduction
Chalice Lighting and Opening Words
Opening Hymn
"Morning Has Broken"
#38 in Singing the Living Tradition
Words by Eleanor Farjeon; Music: traditional Gaelic melody
Morning has broken like the first morning,
blackbird has spoken like the first bird.
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them, springing fresh from the Word!
Sweet the rain's new fall sunlit from heaven,
like the first dewfall on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
sprung in completeness where God's feet pass.
Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning
born of the one light Eden saw play!
Praise with elation, praise every morning,
God's recreation of the new day!
First Poem: "Know What I Mean" By Bruce Cohen
Second Poem: "La Pregunta Sagreda" by Lisa Sementilli
Joys and Concerns
Third Poem: "My Mother's Voice" by Marsha Howland
Offering
Continuing our practice of sharing our gifts with the community beyond our walls, fifty percent of our Sunday plate collections for the month of August will be split among three area food pantries: MACC Food Pantry, Hockanum Valley Food Pantry, and CT Mutual Aid East of the River Food Pantry.
Offering Music
"The End"
Music and Lyrics by Lucky Luke Harper
When I get a hit, I mark my own flank
When I get to walk, I build myself a plank
When I get a ride, I stay off the road
Asking me to think is telling me to go
I’ve been lonely with the ghost
I’ve been stealing from my host
I’ve been cursing all the saints
For my grounds to grow
You won’t listen if I glisten
I’ll be sober, but I’ll be fixin’
Wake up three-fold, wet and empty and full of dread
I’m a sermon for the preacher
I’m a lesson to the teacher
I won’t tire of fighting fires in my head
If I’m not at the end
When I get to sing, I get paid no mind
When I write a song, I’m sorry, it’s mine
When I try to dance, I can’t believe my limbs
Only playing games, I don’t think I’ll win
I’ve been carrying the flowers
I’ve been pleading to the powers
I’ve been telling on myself
For not letting go
You won’t listen if I glisten
I’ll be sober, but I’ll be fixin’
Wake up three-fold, wet and empty and full of dread
I’m a sermon for the preacher
I’m a lesson to the teacher
I won’t tire of fighting fires in my head
If I’m not at the end
I’ll say sorry when I feel it
I’ll forgive you when I mean it
I’ll seduce my righteous anger into bed
You won’t change me, don’t you know me?
You can’t fight me, hell ain’t slowed me
You can’t live with me if I can’t break your bread
You won’t listen if I glisten
I’ll be sober, but I’ll be fixin’
Wake up three-fold, wet and empty and full of dread
I’m a sermon for the preacher
I’m a lesson to the teacher
I won’t tire of fighting fires in my head
If I’m not at [the end]
Fourth Poem: "Laundry Eagles" and "Prism Women" by Jeannette Lesure
Fifth Poem: "Sacred" by Molly Vigeant
Reflections
Closing Hymn
“May Nothing Evil Cross This Door”
#1 in Singing the Living Tradition
Words by Louis Untermeyer, Music by Robert N. Quaile
May nothing evil cross this door,
and may ill fortune never pry about
these windows; may the roar
and rain go by.
By faith made strong, the rafters will
withstand the battering of the storm.
This hearth, though all the world grow chill,
will keep you warm.
Peace shall walk softly through these rooms,
touching our lips with holy wine,
till every casual corner blooms
into a shrine.
With laughter drown the raucous shout,
and, though these sheltering walls are thin,
may they be strong to keep hate out
and hold love in.
Extinguishing the Chalice and Closing Words
Closing Circle
May faith in the spirit of life
And hope for the community of earth
And love of the light in each other
Be ours now, and in all the days to come.
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