.
Open the heavens and come down, O God of joy.
Bring Your joy so near we can taste it—
like eating French fries!
in Mexico!
on Christmas!
.
We have seen glimpses of Your joy
not only when we visit our favorite places and people
but in some wildly unexpected places and people as well.
Whenever a child is born to us,
we know Your presence.
Where our pleasures now are partial and fleeting,
give us energy to keep up with a joy that endures.
.
We have heard Your promises:
that You came to bring the great joy of reconciliation
to absolutely everyone
and that none of our faults can separate us from God.
When we bring you our grief, you collect our tears
to water orchards producing perfect fruit.
Forgiveness flowers wherever You walk.
.
Jesus, You come to make our joy chock-full,
complete, whole, limit-bursting, and exuberant.
Enlarge our capacity for unbounded delight
in Your world and in each other.
.
Anoint us with your dancing Spirit
to bring good news of your continued favor
to everyone muddling through the rough places.
Reconnect us to the Source of all joy.
.
We are God’s people.
We light this candle as a sign of God’s joy,
that calls us out of our corners to play along,
harmonizing with an ecstatic angel chorus
jamming to the music of the spheres.
.
O come, Immanuel.
.
This year’s liturgies composed with contributions from the wreath-lighters of Bethany Presbyterian, Seattle. There may or may not have been a five-year-old involved this week.
Homespun 