As mentioned before, I like routines, checklists, order and structure.
I've learned life doesn't always flow this way, but certain predictable patterns, keep the wheels on my faith-cart turning smoothly and not falling off the axles.
Thus, I've learned to enjoy old-fashioned-liturgies, by definition a form of public worship.
In the evangelical world, the liturgy of a church service looks like an opening prayer, worship (3 songs), a message, and a closing worship song.
Communion boasts a familiar repetitive "formula," a liturgy.
In more recent years, best-selling books like Every Moment Holy and (one I picked up recently) Liturgies for Life Abroad offer us words to help express what we're feeling in our hearts when we're unable to express those emotions ourselves.
I liked the way Gemini explained the "Big Idea" of a liturgy, when asked:
A liturgy isn't just a list of instructions; it's a "pedagogy of the heart." By doing the same actions and saying the same words repeatedly, the participant is meant to be internally reshaped by the practice.
A Pedagogy-of-the-Heart.
We've gotten away from "pedagogy."
(Pedagogy - a teaching method that repeats certain facts with the intent to help internalize the lesson.)
Why am I going to this trouble to explain?
Well, perhaps the best way to close out this series on Living As Holy Oddballs is to gift you a liturgy you can use just for this purpose: A closing prayer meant to wrap up all that we've covered.
Perhaps in providing this tool, we close the circle of our discussions; and, even, as we find ourselves praying these lines time and again, begin to recognize our lives are slowly being reshaped accordingly.
A Liturgy for Holy Oddballs
God of Sojourners,
Thank you for planting our feet on this sacred journey, we call pilgrimage.
Thank you for adding to our identity that we might celebrate the truth of being elect exiles, set apart sojourners, peculiar pilgrims.....holy oddballs.
Thank You for calling us out of darkness into Your marvelous light.
Thank You for making us Your people—chosen, loved, and sent.
As we complete Peter's letter to the exiles of his day, we ask that You would help us live faithfully in the world where You have placed us.
Make us willing servants—humble, attentive, and ready to care for those You entrust to us.
When suffering comes, remind us not to be surprised.
Give us courage to follow the example of Jesus,
and even to rejoice that we share in His sufferings.
Keep us sober-minded and alert.
Open our eyes to the schemes of the enemy,
and strengthen us to stand firm in the faith.
It's true, we don't often feel like rejoicing in this space between two worlds; so remind us of the truths we have learned and help us not conform to the patterns of this world.
Renew our minds; and, set our hearts on things above where You are seated at the right hand of the Father.
When we feel weak, remind us that You are near.
When we feel scattered, remind us that we belong to You.
When we feel weary, remind us that Your grace is sufficient.
And after we have walked through the trials set before us,
be faithful, O God, to restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish us.
Send us out now as people of Your Kingdom—
living between two worlds,
yet anchored in a living hope.
We entrust ourselves to You,
our faithful Creator.
To You be the glory and dominion forever and ever.
Amen.































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