Today’s post is by James Boline, pastor at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Santa Monica, California, a Reconciling-in-Christ congregation of the Southwest CA Synod.

Summer is upon us. Even though we won’t reach the season’s solstice until the 21^stof June, as we flipped the page in Sundays and Seasons after the Day of Pentecost, we arrived at the section marked “Summer” starting with Holy Trinity Sunday (aka Memorial Day Weekend this year). And with that turn-of-page and turn-of-month, school’s almost out, graduates are commencing, LGBTQ Pride season revs up, “June is busting out all over,” perhaps you find yourself yearning for a “leaner liturgy” in these months of travel and transition.

At St. Paul’s in Santa Monica where it is perpetual summer, we have the luxury of taking our time in worship with a 10:00 service and a year-round outdoor coffee hour which follows. The congregation rarely murmurs (much) about services which extend 15–20 minutes beyond the one-hour mark during the school year. Thus, every summer my colleague Cantor Barbara Hoffman and I try our best to shore things up a bit in order to give our saintly sinners/sinful saints at St. Paul’s a summery break.

We start with an abbreviated/streamlined gathering rite at the font, which at St. Paul’s is located in the very heart and center of the sanctuary. For us, this summer rite is often a brief seasonal Kyrie-infused confession found in a resource called Prayers for an Inclusive Church, by Steven Shakespeare (Church Publishing, New York, 2009). Occasionally, albeit rarely, we have gathered simply with a hymn, followed by the greeting and prayer of the day. One could also consider using a responsive reading of the day’s psalm here as well, letting the service flow quickly to the “Word” section.

As we are encountered by all the readings during the service of the Word, we use “Lord, Let My Life Be Good Soil“ (ELW #512) for the gospel acclamation all summer to accentuate the growing season of ordinary time. I have written a harvest stanza to which we segue in the autumn: “Lord, Let My Life Bear Good Fruit.” With all my heart, soul, and strength, I do try and keep the summer proclamation as brief as I can, with 5–7 minutes being the goal but 8–10 (or 12, deep sigh) usually being the outcome

We have chosen to omit the Creed during the summer months, so following the hymn of the day we move immediately to the prayers and the sharing of the peace. With great delight, our assisting ministers have begun to write prayers of their own instead of or in addition to the pre-printed intercessions, and our people willingly respond when asked, “For what else shall the people of God pray?” Parish announcements follow the peace and are frequently too long, but always convey the warm welcome and hallowed hospitality of the St. Paul’s community. It’s a constant challenge to keep them — along with the homily — on the shorter side.

A spoken Eucharist can set apart the summer season and keep things moving along. Distribution of communion is continuous at St. Paul’s, having phased-out kneeling at the rail years ago. In summer, we use “Calm to the Waves”(ELW #794), “Take, O Take Me As I Am” (#814), “Jesus, We are Gathered” (#529)”and other short, repetitive songs/canticles during distribution to get folks out of the hymnal a bit as they commune. (A helpful list of such repetitive songs can be found in The Sunday Assembly (Augsburg Fortress, 2008, p. 221).

All things considered, summer flies by all-too-quickly and maybe worship oughtn’t parallel that notion.  In the final analysis, a few extra minutes of basking in the beauty of holiness and soaking up the Sonlight may well bring a welcome Gospel infusion to our ordinary, mid-Pentecost lives. However you may lean into summer, a leaner liturgy might serve you and your community well for these illusive weeks.

Fabric squares for Ordinary Time by Jeanette Paulson, Adorn This House, Duluth MN

Fabric on processional cross from Evangelical Lutheran Church in Tanzania

Today’s post is from Jim Honig, Pastor at Shepherd of the Bay Lutheran Church, Ellison Bay, Wisconsin.

The quirks of our family schedule meant that we were often on vacation in the middle of June. So, after a day of hiking or canoeing or biking, we’d be sitting around the table enjoying some grilled hamburgers and one of our sons would say, “Oh, Dad! By the way, Happy Father’s Day!” It was more a sign of busy fun than a lack of care.

For many families, and I suspect many congregations, Father’s Day carries a different feel and different expectations than Mother’s Day. Still, congregational leaders may feel the pressure to put this cultural holiday front and center. And that pressure may be accompanied by expectations to hold up some sentimental image of fatherly perfection.

If that’s the image you want to project, then stay away from the Hebrew and Christian scriptures where the icons of fatherhood are a bit tarnished. Abraham was at the altar with a knife over his head about to engage in child sacrifice. The young boy on the altar became the old man Isaac who was duped by the younger of his twin sons into giving away the family inheritance. Or how about Eli, the high priest who is depicted as unable to control his unruly sons who were reported to “lay with the women who served at the tent of the meeting.” What to do with the fact that Jesus’ own father is hardly mentioned after the infancy and childhood stories.

Add to this the fact that for far too long in the church, “Father” has been nearly the only way we refer to God. It’s language that is carved in the stone of the three ecumenical creeds. Is this what has led us to the popular view of God as an elderly man in a white robe with a long beard who sits on a cloud benignly watching over things?

So, if the biblical record and church history give us a mixed record of what to celebrate on Father’s Day, what shall we do?

For one thing, Father’s Day ought not to be first, front, or center, which is a general rule for any cultural holiday that we decide needs at least to be mentioned in worship. Let the lessons for the day govern the theme and the proclamation of the gospel for the day.

Then, let whatever mention there is of Father’s Day have the ring of truth and honesty about fathers. In fact, the imperfections of the fathers in our biblical stories remind us that all fathers bring their simul justus et peccator brokenness and baptismal new life to the fatherly vocation. We give thanks for the gift of those who have fathered well, whether they happen to be our biological fathers or not. We acknowledge the hurt of those who have not been fathered well. And we all confess our sin and brokenness. Such both/and acknowledgment might be made in the Confession and Forgiveness or in the Prayers of Intercession.

Maybe a hymn during distribution can give a nod to the fatherly vocation. Consider singing the hymn,“Our Father by Whose Name” (ELW #640, text by F. Bland Tucker). This short 3 stanza hymn offers a sung prayer for fathers, mothers, and children, and points us to the work of the Spirit who binds us together in bonds that are stronger than flesh and blood.

And maybe that’s most important gift to which Father’s Day points. Our relationships in the body of Christ and the mission to which we have been called together are front and center for the entire ordinary season; they are the gifts that we will celebrate and reflect on not for just one day, but for as long as we are church together.