Sabbath Communion Liturgy

Friends, Jesus invites us to this table. No need to set the table. No need to worry about the dishes. Just stop and sit a spell, and relax into the promises of Christ. 

It doesn’t matter what you’ve done this week, or what didn’t get finished. You are welcome here, and wanted here, and Jesus is so glad to see you.

All are welcome at this table, because Jesus welcomes all. 

The Lord be with you.
And also with you.
Lift up your hearts.
We lift them to the Lord.
Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.
It is right to give our thanks and praise.

Lord God, we remember the story of creation:
six days you worked, created, drew beauty from chaos,
and you called all that good
but on the seventh day you rested,
and you called that day holy. 

You set your children into a garden,
where they could rest in your presence,
but they wanted more, and rebelled against your grace.
You cast them out into the wide world,
and the consequence of their action was a need to work,
labor to bring good fruit, but also toil and pain. 
A new rhythm for life, work and rest, a rhythm like yours.

But that rhythm was disrupted. 

Your children were enslaved in Egypt,
forced to work without rest,
without tasting the fruit of their labor,
without time to worship,
without time to heal. 
They cried out in endless pain and exhaustion,
and you heard them, and you rescued them. 
You led them through water and desert,
and gave them new rules to live by. 
One of those rules was Sabbath, the rhythm restored:
work and rest, work and rest, good and holy. 

But your people trampled your Sabbath, 
forced their servants to work for them while they rested,
treated it like a burden and not a gift. 
You sent prophets to call them back to the way,
begging them to take delight in your rhythm.

In time you sent Jesus the Christ,
born of a woman’s labor, 
to show us fully how you would live. 
Jesus honored the Sabbath, not just in word but in action;
he prayed like he knew the one he prayed to,
he made it a day for healing and quenching hunger,
a time to draw us back to your merciful heart.

There were those who could not stand to hear your heartbeat,
the rhythm of your love beating louder than their war cries, 
and they turned Jesus over to be killed.

As Sabbath drew near, Jesus was executed;
and he spent the day of rest dead in the tomb,
but the next day he emerged renewed, resurrected, restored. 
The Sabbath day of weeping became a new dawn of joy,
and to this day we believe
that Christ’s victory over death
belongs to us all. 

We praise the Spirit, breath of life to fill our lungs,
who turns days and hours into holy moments. 
Pour yourself our, Spirit, over these gifts of bread and cup
that the bread we break and the cup we bless
may be for us the sign and sacrament of your extravagant love.

In this holy meal, unite, nourish, and strengthen us,
that we may rest in your mercy,
and work for your kingdom,
until you come again in glory. 

Until that day, we lift the prayer you taught your disciples, saying
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,
and forgive us our debts,
as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil,
for thine is the kingdom, and the power,
and the glory forever. Amen.

The Words of Institution
On the night before he was arrested, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, as a sign of his love for us. He gave it to his disciples, saying: Take, eat. This is my body, given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.

In the same way, after the meal, Jesus took the cup, and he poured it out, as a sign of his compassion for us, saying: This cup is the new covenant sealed in my blood, shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. Whenever you drink it, do this in remembrance of me.

Friends, this is the bread of life. Take, eat, and be satisfied. 

Friends, this is the cup of salvation. Take, drink, and be refreshed. 

Closing Prayer

God of our lives,
the meal is over,
but help us, we pray,
to linger at the table.
To sit a little longer with you.
Not to scurry away to tasks undone,
but to enjoy your presence,
our Everlasting Host,
our divine Friend. 

Amen.