Call to Worship: Robert Bridges
Awake, the land is scattered with light, and see;
Unaccompanied sleep is flying from field and tree;
And blossoming boughs of April in laughter shake;
Awake, o heart, to be loved, awake, awake!

Unison Prayer: Hawai’i, 19th century
Above, above ~ all birds in air
Below, below ~ all earth’s flowers
Inland, inland ~ all forest trees
Seaward, seaward ~ all ocean fish
Sing out and say again the refrain:
Behold this lovely world.  Amen.

WOA: Hosea 6:3, RSV
Let us press on to know the Lord;
his going forth is sure as the dawn;
he will come to us as the showers,
as the spring rains that water the earth.

The Lord’s Prayer
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 trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil;
for thine is the kingdom,
and the power,
and the glory forever.
Amen.

Opening Song: Bethel Music, “Tend”

Scripture: Song of Solomon 2:10-13, NIV
My beloved spoke and said to me,
“Arise, my darling,
my beautiful one, come with me.
See! The winter is past;
the rains are over and gone.
Flowers appear on the earth;
the season of singing has come,
the cooing of doves
is heard in our land.
The fig tree forms its early fruit;
the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.
Arise, come, my darling;
my beautiful one, come with me.”

Sunday Sermon

As many of you know, spring is my least favorite season. It’s not because it isn’t happy, or colorful, or beautiful, because I know that it is all of these things. It’s because it doesn’t happen fast enough. Yesterday I read an article by Melissa Kirsch that sums up this feeling. She writes that as soon as it turns spring, we feel that all the flowers should be blooming and we should be walking around in shorts. But there’s no app to make spring happen faster; in our fast-paced society, it’s one of the few things we can’t change on demand.

Somewhere in here is a lesson. Nature won’t speed up for us; in order to adjust, we need to slow down.

Here are the first signs of spring. Crocuses and daffodils. Buds on the trees, with a hint of color. The return of the birds, singing a fuller chorus. Cadbury Creme Eggs. The sun higher in the sky. As of this week, more day than night; sunlight is currently winning by 14 minutes.

But of course that’s here in New York; in Arizona it was 110 degrees this week, while Michigan got three feet of snow. We’re fortunate to be right in the middle. People who move from New York to Florida often say that the thing they miss the most is the seasons, which means there’s something good about every one. A time to be warm; a time to be cold. A time for fireplaces, and a time for cookouts. A time for coats and a time for shorts. A time for snow and a time for melting. But most of all, a time to wait and a time to receive.

One of my favorite lines in Scripture is “the season of singing has come.” What a wonderful phrase! Many of us sing year-round, but this Scripture widens the scope: the people are singing, the birds are singing, all of creation is singing. To appreciate color, sometimes it’s good to go without color. To appreciate warmth, sometimes it’s good to be cold. To appreciate bounty, sometimes it’s good to experience hardship. To earlier generations, spring was the assurance that they had made it through winter: the squirrels had enough nuts, the bears had enough fat, the settlers had enough provisions.

Do we ever appreciate life as much as we do after illness or injury? After 40 years, I still remember the best cranberry juice I ever had as I was recovering from mono and double pneumonia. I swore to myself that I would never forget how blessed I was to be able to drink fluids, to taste them and enjoy them. But eventually the gratitude wore off. The same thing happened after a major leg injury, when I was finally able to play volleyball again, and for the rest of the season, I didn’t take it for granted; but then that wore off as well.

We would never wish for more suffering, even if it teaches us lessons. And maybe that’s why God gave us the seasons. Our hard winter wasn’t really a hard winter, not compared to other winters. We had more snow than usual, and a longer cold spell, and the snow stayed on the ground for two months, and we got tired of looking at it, and it was an inconvenience not to find a place to park at Stop & Shop, but those are all first world problems. What does matter is that the first “real” winter we’ve had in a while made us more appreciative of spring: especially these early days in which any day might feel like winter or spring, and might only include a few hours in which the outdoors is especially bright and beautiful and warm.

One of my go-to phrases when it comes to recovery is that everything takes longer than we want it to. Another is that recovery is not a straight line. It doesn’t matter what the recovery is from. It may be from addiction. it may be from heartbreak. It may be from loss. It may be from surgery. Sorrow has a tendency to hang on. So does temptation. So does a cough, or lingering pain. Some days, for no apparent reason, we feel as if the skies are parting and angels are singing hallelujah. Suddenly we’re good; we feel ourselves again. We rejoice. But then the next day we’re down again, and start thinking that it’s always going to be this way. But it isn’t, in the same way that the temperatures are not going to rise every day until July and fall every day until February. It’s as if God is telling us to be patient, and in the meantime, to look for whatever blessings we can find. For example, is 53 degrees (today’s forecast) enough? Or should we be disappointed because yesterday it was 54? Or should we go outside because tomorrow’s high is 43? Or should we look for a blessing every day, no matter the weather, knowing that spring will come, knowing that the flowers will bloom, knowing that Christ is resurrected, knowing that heaven is waiting?

While today’s Scripture is about the arrival of spring, it also holds a second teaching. As the passage begins, two people are living together, but one is living in spring while the other is stuck in winter. A couple days ago, Robin, Dee and I replaced the snowflakes in the hallway with birds, butterflies and dragonflies. Prana walked by while we were in the middle of the switch and I told him that he was walking back into winter because one side of the hallway was in each season. The same is true of the Scripture. One person says to the other, “Arise, my love. Come with me and see.” He invites his significant other to look – the storms are over, the flowers are in bloom; to listen – the morning doves are cooing; to smell – the blossoms are revealing their fragrances; and to taste – the fig trees are in fruit. “Arise,” he says. This is worth getting up for. “Come with me,” he says. This is worth experiencing for yourself.

The passage has a happy ending, because she responds, “Let’s go see the vines and the little grapes. Let’s go see the lilies. Let’s go see the baby foxes, even if they eat the grapes.”

We all know someone who is stuck in winter, even when the calendar turns to spring; someone who is stuck in sadness, even as the world blooms around them; someone who is stuck in negativity, even when creation sings with gladness; someone who is stuck on Good Friday, even after Easter. This passage is saying, evangelize. Invite others to experience the spring, and if they cannot get to spring, be the spring for them. There will never be a shortage of lost and lonely people, but thankfully, there will never be a shortage of joy or encouragement or grace. God sends the seasons to remind us of these things. God has brought us out of doubt into faith, out of stagnation into wonder, out of winter into spring. Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, God is saying to us. See! The winter is past; the snows are over and gone. Arise, come my darling, my beautiful one. Come with me. Happy Spring and Amen!

Closing Song: Max Richter, “Spring 1”

Benediction
May you feel the power of spring,
and may this strength rejuvenate you
as the spring rains awaken the seeds below.
Amen.