Easter Octave Readings and Prayers
Sunday: His Heart Beats by Andrew Peterson
Monday: Come, People of the Risen King
by Keith and Kristen Getty
Tuesday: Our Great God by Fernando Ortega
Wednesday: Add to the Beauty by Sara Groves
Thursday: We Will Feast in the House of Zion
by Sandra McCracken
Friday: Roll Away Your Stone
by Mumford and Sons
Saturday: Christ is Risen by Matt Maher
Sunday: Everything Sad is Coming Untrue
by Jason Gray
THIS DAY by Richard Sharples
Make this day, Lord,
a step closer to heaven.
This day, Lord, may I know myself
loved and valued.
This day, Lord, may I notice
the beauty around me,
in things great and small.
This day, Lord, may I not miss
the messages of joy, of peace,
of hope that you send me.
This day, Lord, this day ...
make the day of my resurrection.
This is the Good News- the grave is empty; Christ is risen. ALLELUIA!
This is the Good News- the light shines in the darkness and the darkness can never put it out. ALLELUIA!
This is the Good News - once we were no people, now we are God’s people. ALLELUIA!
Christ is our peace, the indestructible peace we now share with each other. ALLELUIA!
DYING TO LIFE
by Carla Grosch-Miller
Perhaps the old form of faith
must die, fall into the dust
and return to its beginning,
that new life, freed and unfettered, may rise.
Perhaps the tomb is naught to fear,
the darkness an unraveling,
a comfort and a rest.
Perhaps light comes stealthily,
and garments become threadbare,
and radiance grows from within.
Perhaps the great letting go is a letting be,
an acceptance and a grace,
that life may spring up,
radiance meeting radiance,
wonder comprehending wonder.
THROUGH THE RISING OF YOUR SON
Almighty God, through the rising of your Son from the grave,
you broke the power of the grave,
you broke the power of death
and condemned death itself to die.
As we celebrate this great triumph
may we also make it the model for our living.
Help us to identify in our lives
all that should rightly die -
redundant relationships, tired habits,
Resurrect in our lives
faith, hope, and love
as surely as you raised Jesus Christ from the grave. Amen.
RESTORATION SONG by Gerry Tuohy
God called forth a people,
and we responded to His call,
“Rebuild this ancient ruin, restore my city walls.”
He has led us day by day, as we listened to His voice,
and we were fed on finest wheat,
and manna from the skies.
When we started, we were strangers.
We hardly knew each other's names.
Now we are brothers and sisters,
and we will never be the same.
As we built, brick by brick,
we discovered the corner stone,
and as we let Him mould and fashion us,
He built us up in love.
Now we have seen, and we have heard,
that the Lord our God is great,
for a wilderness has been transformed,
into His holy place.
A BLESSING by Chris Polhill
The power of the Creator who brings life out of death, be in this place.
The risen Christ be your constant companion.
The healing embrace of the Holy Spirit encircle you
so that you see resurrection ever about you.
A Christian is one who points at Christ and says, 'I can't prove a thing, but there's something about His eyes and His voice. There's something about the way He carries His head, His hands, the way He carries His cross - the way He carries me.'
REFLECTIONS AT EASTER by Liz Gregory-Smith
‘Trembling and bewildered as they left the tomb, speechless, saying nothing, because they were afraid.’
Yet, one by one, and strengthened as a group,
they did believe,
and that meant telling,
‘I have seen the Lord!’
Mary Magdalene, Peter, John,
Cleopas and Thomas, called the Twin.
The story without end
was now beginning.
When the stone moved,
did that reverberate
to shake the strata of fear
residing in the deserts and the Northern hills?
I wondered that, looking at the shadowy folds
of a bare Alpine hillside just before the spring.
Resurrection coming to the whole of creation
if the story’s true.
No terrifying ghost to startle,
unchained from fearsome underworld;
rather, familiar Lord of fish and bread.
His ‘Peace be with you’,
the showing of his hands and feet,
enough to know he’d passed through death;
Lord of life, life-giving Lord in every breath.
Risen in the garden.
In the country churchyard,
daffodils about the graves,
church door open, organ playing,
waiting for the worshippers –
‘No longer can thy terrors, death, appall us.’ –
and I believed. Alleluia.
He took me by surprise,
although I hardly recognised
whose was that strong presence:
It happened once along the New Cross Road,
walking towards the dreaded school,
no change of my direction then,
but just a going on.
And, once again, much later,
behind me on the stairs,
none other than the Christ of Galilee.
‘You can apologize,’ and yes I could and did.
Quite mundane, the risen Christ,
but more real than sight or sound or touch can be,
and always there for us in bread and wine and prayer.