Trinity-St. Andrew’s United Church
Order of Worship
Sunday, February 22nd 2026
1st Sunday of Lent
Prelude
Welcome & Telling Our Story
Gathering to Worship God
Lighting of the Christ Candle
Holy One, in this season of reflection, we light this candle. Jesus said, “I am the light of the world.” May this small flame remind us that your presence is steady, your mercy is gentle, and your light walks with us. Guide us in truth and hope through this Lenten journey. Amen.
Introit ‘Tis the Gift to Be Simple VU 353
‘Tis the gift to be simple, ‘tis the gift to be free,
‘tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
and when we find ourselves in the place just right,
‘twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gained,
to bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed;
to turn, turn will be our delight
‘til by turning, turning, we come round right.
Call to Worship
Come, you who are weary of the dark; all you who carry questions and all who are searching for clarity. The light of the world is here. Not to shame us. Not to expose us. But to guide us. In this season of reflection and return, we gather not because we have it all together, but because we trust the One who walks beside us. May the light of the world illuminate our paths as we worship God together.
Hymn Morning Has Broken VU 409
- 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.
- Ours is the sunlight! Ours is the morning
born of the one light Eden saw play!
Praise with elation, praise every morning,
God’s recreation of the new day!
Gathering Prayer & Assurance of Grace
God of light and shadow, we come as we are. Some of us arrive hopeful. Some of us arrive distracted. Some of us arrive carrying things we would rather keep hidden. Lent invites honesty, and so we admit our humanness: there are places in us we avoid, truths we resist, habits that dim your light within us. We confess the ways we choose comfort over courage, silence over compassion, and fear over trust. And yet, even as we name these things, we remember that your light is not cruel. It is not a spotlight meant to embarrass. It is a dawn that patiently returns. In Christ, you do not abandon us to the dark. You walk with us through it. Friends, hear this good news: The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. In Jesus, we are met with mercy. In Jesus, we are forgiven. In Jesus, we are invited to begin again. Amen.
Time for the Young & Young at Heart
Hymn Jesus, Tempted in the Desert VU 115
- Jesus, tempted in the desert,
lonely, hungry, filled with dread:
“Use your power,” the tempter tells him;
“turn these barren rocks to bread!”
“Not alone by bread,” he answers,
“can the human heart be filled.
Only by the Word that calls us
is our deepest hunger stilled!”
- Jesus, tempted at the temple.
high above its ancient wall:
“Throw yourself from lofty turret;
angels wait to break your fall!”
Jesus shuns such empty marvels, - feats that fickle crowds request:
“God, whose grace protects, preserves us,
we must never vainly test.”
- Jesus, tempted on the mountain
by the lure of vast domain:
“Fall before me! Be my servant!
Glory, fame, you’re sure to gain!”
Jesus sees the dazzling vision,
turns his eyes another way:
“God alone deserves our homage!
God alone I will obey!”
- When we face temptation’s power,
Lonely, struggling, filled with dread,
Christ, who knew the tempter’s hour,
come and be our living bread.
By your grace, protect, preserve us
lest we fall, your trust betray.
Yours, above all other voices,
be the Word, we hear, obey.
Celebrate Communion
Call To Give Thanks
The Lord be with you.
And also with you.
Lift up your hearts.
We lift them up to God.
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
It is right to give our thanks and praise.
The Great Thanksgiving
Blessed are you, gracious God, Creator of light, Giver of All Life, Source of Love. From the dust of the earth, you created us in your image. From the bondage and slavery, you delivered us. Through all our wilderness wanderings you guide us. You call us to renewal and repentance, to justice and compassion, to healing and wholeness. We thank you for sending us Jesus, your Chosen One, Bread for our journey. He lived and loved this human life, taking upon himself our suffering and sorrow, being tested as we are tested, and reaching out to broken victims of this world’s brokenness. In him we come to know your truth, to feel the life that is Christ within us. So it is throughout these Lenten days and nights we worship you, and bless your name in our responsive Song of Creation:
Song of Creation
Holy, holy, holy, Lord,
God of power and might,
Heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.
Remembering Jesus at the Table
On the eve of his betrayal, Jesus renewed God’s covenant promise. He took bread, offered the blessing, broke it, and gave it to those who sat at table with him. Then, at the close of the meal, he poured the cup of blessing, raised it in thanks to God, and passed it among them.
Affirmation of Memory and Hope
Remembering your boundless love for us in Jesus Christ, we offer you our praise, as we proclaim the mystery of faith:
Christ has died. Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.
Prayer for Transformation
Holy God, pour your Spirit on us, that we may know Christ in the breaking of bread, and that in word and deed, we may be channels of your love, peace and justice in the world.
Pastoral Prayers & The Prayer of Jesus
Help us to love as Christ loved. Knowing our weakness, may we stand with all who stumble. Sharing in his suffering, may we remember all who suffer. Held in his love, may we embrace all whom the world denies. Rejoicing in his forgiveness, may we forgive all who sin against us. We gather these and all our prayers as we pray together as Jesus taught us to pray by saying… Our Father…
Breaking the Bread and Filling the Cup
The bread of tomorrow. The cup of new life.
Sharing the Bread and Cup
The gifts of God for the people. All things are now ready, let us share in this meal together.
Prayer after Communion
Gracious God, may your gifts of love transform and enliven us that we may live lives of thanksgiving. May your presence provoke such longing for your realm, that we will never be satisfied until the whole earth knows your justice, your peace and your unconditional love. In Christ’s name, we pray. Amen.
Blessed at Table & Font
Thanksgiving & Offering
In Lent, we are invited to notice what we cling to and what we are called to release. We give today not out of guilt, but out of gratitude! We give because the light of the world has given generously to us. Your gifts support ministries of compassion, justice, and community; small and steady lights in this region and beyond. As we offer our gifts of money, time, and spirit, bless them so they may become signs of hope in places that need it most. Let us give with grateful hearts as we sing together in MV104, Know that God is Good.
Hymn Know That God is Good MV 104
Know that God is good, (3x)
God is good, God is good.
Listening for God
Hymn: Shout for Joy VU 482
- Shout for joy! The Lord has let us feast;
heaven’s own fare has fed and last and least;
Christ’s own peace is shared again on earth;
God the Spirit fills us with new worth.
- No more doubting, no more senseless dread;
God’s good self has graced our wine and bread;
all the wonder heaven has kept in store
now is ours to keep for evermore.
- Celebrate with saints who dine on high,
witnesses that love can never die.
“Hallelujah!” – thus their voices ring.
Nothing less in gratitude we bring.
- Praise the Maker, praise the Maker’s Son,
praise the Spirit, — three yet ever one;
praise the God whose food and friends avow
heaven starts here! The kingdom beckons now!
Scripture John 8:12-20 Sally Prendergast
Sermon
Anthem
Sent into God’s World
Hymn I, the Lord of Sea and Sky (Here I Am, Lord) VU 509
- I, the Lord of sea and sky,
I have heard my people cry.
All who dwell in deepest sin my hand will save.
I who made the stars of night,
I will make their darkness bright.
Who will bear my light to them?
Who shall I send?
Refrain: Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.
- I, the Lord of snow and rain,
I have borne my people’s pain,
I have wept for love of them; they turn away.
I will break their hearts of stone,
give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak my word to them.
Whom shall I send? Refrain
- I, the Lord of wind and flame,
I will tend the poor and lame,
I will set a feast for them; my hand will save.
Finest bread I will provide
till their hearts be satisfied.
I will give my life to them.
Whom shall I send? Refrain
Sending Forth
As you leave this place, remember: the light goes with you. When the days feel long and uncertain, may Christ’s light steadily guide you. Go into this Lenten season with courage, with honesty and with compassion. And may the Light of the World shine before around and within you, today and always. Amen.
Sung Blessing Go Now in Peace VU 964
Go now in peace, go now in peace.
May the love of God surround you everywhere,
everywhere you may go.
Postlude
Stepping Into the Light
John 8:1-12
The Scripture lesson that we heard this morning doesn’t necessarily set the scene as well as it could be. And what I mean by that is that there are a few more components to the location that make it more dramatic. That add to the feeling of the night and the impact of Jesus’ words. Jesus is in the court also known as the court of the women, and behind him are 16 massive golden lanterns, each shining brightly as they celebrate the changing of the seasons, and begin to remember the times that the people of Israel were led out of the wilderness and guided to the Promised Land. Against this luminous backdrop, at the start of this festival, is when Jesus delivers one of his “I Am” statements…
The start of something is always a bit of a time of excitement isn’t it? Especially when it’s familiar- you’re excited and you know what to expect. The perk of that familiarity is that if you didn’t sleep well, feeling a little under the weather or simply having an off-day, your muscle memory both physically and mentally can kind of carry you through. It’s kind of like the early morning for me. It’s dark, the alarm is making its devilish clang, got to get out of bread, get myself sorted before waking my son up, making breakfast and school lunches. In that hour, I try and keep it as dark as possible because quite frankly it’s not the time of year for bright lights. I don’t need to see any more than I need to at that hour. If the big lights go on I’m squinting and then I’m noticing perhaps all the tasks I neglected last night. Or, in a worse case scenario, I see that I didn’t send Deb the manuscript of the sermon…So, we stick to the smaller lights that don’t light up everything, but they light up enough for the moment. Then I can scurry from pool of light to pool of light, blissfully unaware of what is cast in shadow for a little bit longer.
More often than not I enjoy that type of thing. I enjoy the self-imposed dimness of the room. Sometimes even, I don’t even pull back the curtains until mid-late morning. Rebellious, I know. There’s something to be said about what we can see when there is ample light. It’s clear, you don’t have to stumble over things, you can clearly see what needs to get done, what can wait. With our own lights you kind of know where to avoid looking to, especially before cleaning day in our homes, right? But even in my own personal faith journey and I can feel this scheduled light have its presence felt. I desire clarity as I imagine we all do. I like certainty, right, and this is a continuation of building on the themes from last Sunday… But as I journey through life I deeply feel the tension of heading toward something that isn’t fully visible. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t taken the right steps, or turned on the right light, or perhaps, it’s on the path where the light isn’t as bright and it’s easier on my eyes. I know the layout of my days, of my aspirations, and the lights that are guiding me (social media, advertisements etc.) seem to have done a good enough job. It’s a soft neon glow and I can kind of keep my view guarded in a way… So, when Jesus makes that statement that He is the Light of the World, and that those who follow don’t have to walk in darkness, I kind of wonder because I don’t really feel that I’m walking in all that darkness you know? But the gentle challenge that Jesus made to the crowd, that He makes to us… I feel that pull on my soul, on my being… The challenge of honouring what has worked and sensing what could be. Put otherwise, the invitation Jesus makes, to the crowd, to me, to you, sort of pushes gently against our comfort of having a plan versus the vulnerability of trusting something new that seemingly can show us more of life…I know this instinct, friends. And maybe that’s not just me…
Human beings have been around for thousands of years. Why? We have this fight or flight instinct that had led to the preservation of our specious. Psychologists also say there are freeze and fawn instincts as well but let’s stick with the standard fight or flight. This cautious approach that is often fueled with adrenaline has allowed us to evolve and adapt, to build civilizations, to go to the moon, to develop societies… in short, our tendencies have led us arguably to flourishing and the continued survival of our species (for now…!) All this to say, is that for the most part we are fairly risk averse people. The human instinct is usually wait until you know more. Don’t venture out into the dark beyond the lamplight because of the bears and wolves outside. Don’t walk down the creepy wooden stairs to grandma’s basement in the nighttime… Naturally we like to see what we are getting involved in, it’s a primal instinct, really. But this primal instinct can be in conflict with a life of faith; especially in congregational life. We can find ourselves growing more tired due to the countless ways we serve others, we have turned 40 for the 30th consecutive year… We look around and see much more familiar to us demographically and so when things are on the precipice of changing beyond what is not more/less the same we can fear that change equals loss.
And when the human creature feels the potential for loss, or harm, it’s going to be risk averse, it’s going to yearn for what is more familiar, what is knowable, what keeps our blood pressure even. And friends, this is natural. This isn’t condemnation by any means. Let’s just name together that we are human and we are being of star dust- like we heard on Ash Wednesday with our joint service with St. James… But because we are human, we can’t always see the fully illuminated picture, we can miss the hues, the shades, the barely perceptible movements of the Spirit… So as finite beings, Lent invites us to greater awareness, to make room in our beings to be in deeper relationship with God so that our vision can be more aligned with what Jesus sees… But Jesus doesn’t offer us a map.
In Eugene Peterson’s The Message translation, John 8:12 reads like this “12 Jesus once again addressed them: “I am the world’s Light. No one who follows me stumbles around in the darkness. I provide plenty of light to live in.” I am the light of the world. Now in this section of John Jesus makes “I am statements” approximately 23 times. More so than any of the other gospels, and I am fairly certain more than the 3 others combined. So, it must be important. And there must be a reason it’s offered on this 1st Sunday of Lent. But let’s dig into this light business. Light, in the ancient texts, often refer to the presence of God, such as the people wandering in darkness of have seen a great light, when the prophets encounter God in the Hebrew Bible, there is a blinding light, when Jesus was baptized a few chapters ago, the clouds opened up, a great light sone and a dove descended from the skies… Light, signifies God’s presence. Amidst all the light in the courtyard, Jesus is making the bold claim that HE is the Light of the World. That if folks follow him, they will not wander aimlessly, that they can be upright, they can not worry about dashing their foot upon a stone. He makes this claim during a familiar and time-tested festival, amidst the burning lights of lamps, lanterns and candles… Somehow, Jesus shines brighter. Somehow, he makes the bold claim that he is Light. And he says this because of his relationship with God his Father. The intimacy and closeness that he has. And you’ll recall that each Sunday we are learning more and more about Jesus’ relation to God and how it is that intimacy that allows him to seemingly blur boundaries and offer counter cultural claims as seen in the Temple and with the Samaritan woman. When we turn towards Jesus, the Light of the World we can clearly and even with trepidation see the courage that is required to cross boundaries and the call to affirm and uplift our ability to expand who can encounter God and where. It’s Jesus that shows us the way, not the means, though, but the way. And what’s further interesting in this is that Jesus doesn’t promise an end location. He doesn’t even promise completeness, the promise of a checkered flag… Jesus doesn’t promise full visibility here. He promises himself. He promises you won’t have wander, stub your toes, crush your shin against the side table… In following him you won’t be led astray and be fed the mistruths of big tech and such… But in Jesus, in the Light of the World, in following that beacon you can gain LIFE. The deepest longing of every human being is to live– and to live in the fullest and most authentic way possible- a life lived out of the shadows… Jesus promises to give and to show that wisdom, that light, so we may live this “real life”. And the 2nd century church mystic St. Irenaeus was recorded as saying “The glory of God is in a human fully alive…” In this Lent, we hear and can realize that Jesus is enough for the way ahead.
In this Lenten season, we can look at changes to schedule, diet, prayer, or even worship, as a means of renewal. Not a casting out, but of a renewal so we can better follow this light and live authentically and fully in the way God intended. So, we are invited to expand our hospitality both personally and pastorally. Perhaps it was God who whispered to the UCW to have a Soup Social? We could say scheduling, or we could say Spirit guided… We can move from passive welcome to active invitation, both church-wise and personally. Where can we invite others to share in our lives? Practicing prayerful discernment. That means at the end of the day or even midday, reflecting on the days events or words and asking yourself: “Where did I see God today?” But also taking small faithful risks where you see the god-light spotlighting. Friends, we are invited to trust in Jesus’ words, especially this Lent. We are invited to practice and embody what Jesus did when he spent that time in the dessert. Trust before clarity. Movement before certainty. Relationships over roadmaps…
Together we can be a place where the light of God not just illuminates. But encourages, offers warmth, a place and people to reflect, to learn, to find oneself, one’s purpose. A place that isn’t afraid to live in the light boldly, confidently and faithfully. Where conversations at coffee hour or in the narthex are about where we see God, joy at making that spiritual connection to our everyday living, seeing our courage to take that next step grow, to see the light and face of God in every person we meet. This is what is possible when we follow Jesus. And friends, regardless of whether we are taking confident steps, using walkers, canes or wheels. We do not journey alone. We are not waiting for full visibility. We are following Christ.
Jesus is enough for the way ahead. Amen.
