Do you have a morning routine to get ready for the day? How do you get moving? Research shows that good morning routines make us more motivated, grounded, and productive. Some of us start the day by saying, “Thanks be to God for coffee.” You may like a long, slow walk, or you are a night owl who sleeps until the last minute and rushes to get ready for your first activity. Others wake slowly, lying in bed and reading the news. Then you wonder if it is safe to get up. Starting the day with news, email, and social media, does more harm than good. It trains us to be anxious.

Here is a surprise. Routines that focus on productivity and efficiency tend to backfire. To-do lists, especially the first thing, can make us anxious and leave us feeling inadequate the minute our feet hit the floor. Morning routines that remind us of our purpose and values bear the most fruit. What matters today? What kind of person do I want to be? When we take a little time to orient ourselves to what truly matters, we are happier and more productive.

I had a busy day in December, managing to get through everything on my long to-do list. At the end of the day, you might think I would be elated at this accomplishment. Instead, I just felt tired and a little empty. It was a sign to me that I wasn’t connecting to any higher purpose. Getting things done doesn’t satisfy as much as doing the right things, and being in the right state of mind. I switched my morning routine to writing in my journal (with coffee, of course), followed by a few minutes of meditation. My attitude has shifted in a better direction since then.

We have our Sunday morning worship routines. Just because we have done them for many years doesn’t mean they are good or bad. The attitudes we bring to our rituals can matter as much as what we do or say. During Epiphany, we will take a deep dive into what we do with this precious first day of the week, starting today with how we gather and begin our time together.

What are we doing here on Sunday morning? The word worship comes from an Old English word, weorðscipe, which became “worthship.” Words ending in ‘ship,’ like leadership or friendship, describe a way of living in a relationship. Worthship means we are acting in a way that aligns with what we truly value. We gather on Sunday morning to be reminded of our higher divine purpose. In song, ritual, and prayer, we tell one another: God is here.

At 10 AM, we cross a threshold. In the morning welcome, I often suggest an action that helps us enter sacred space. It can be a deep breath, a hand over your heart, something that grounds us physically in the moment. I share with you something from nature that affirms God’s beauty. Sunlight glistens on an icy twig, creating a stunning sparkle. The crocus pushes optimistically through the snow in search of light and life. Natural beauty tells us the world is good and that God intends life for us. The Psalms do the same thing—they give voice to a joy that creation is already singing.

Psalm 100 says, “Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness.” Notice that it is not just people shouting, but all the earth is joyful- you and me, toads, trees, and koalas-all creatures great and small. No matter how we show up and what our struggles might be on Sunday morning, the sun brings life, birds sing and delight us, so God is full of grace.

We follow this threshold moment with music: soothing organ tones or bright, ringing bells. By 10:05 every Sunday morning, we are reminded that God is present, the world is good, and you belong here. No matter who you are, you are welcome here. That may sound like a heavy lift for five minutes, but this beginning matters. It welcomes us into the world God intends—full of joy, beauty, and grace.

We move from world weariness to divine orientation. This shift is precisely what the prophet Isaiah names in our reading today. He speaks to people who are tired, disappointed, and unsure whether God is really present anymore. And God doesn’t start by fixing their problems. Isaiah opens with a command: “Arise, shine, for your light has come.” Arise, and shine means more than “Wake up, sleepy head.” The Hebrew verb (qûmî) is used when someone is beaten down. It means someone stands after collapse, rises from grief, returns from defeat. Isaiah summons a people shaped by exile, struggling to rebuild, and discouraged.

Isaiah begins with a command: ‘Arise.’ Stand tall, not because we are strong, but because God is faithful. Not because the darkness is gone, but because the light has already arrived. Worship begins here—not with energy, not with certainty, but with resurrection posture. We stand because God has not given up on us.”

Isaiah does not pretend that everything is suddenly better. In fact, the very next verse says, “Darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples.” Isaiah knows the darkness. He names it plainly. Isaiah speaks the command to arise not because the darkness is gone, but because it does not get the final word.

That’s important for us. Worship is not denial. It is not pretending things are fine when they are not. It is not forced cheerfulness. Worship is what we do when the world is still shadowed, and we choose to stand anyway, trusting that God’s light is already at work.

Our joy is not naïve. It is not because there is no pain or injustice. It is joy rooted in a relationship. “Know that the Lord is God. We are God’s people.” Joy comes not from circumstances, but from belonging.

The most essential thing to remember as we enter the sanctuary is that we are here because God gathers us and calls us into community. We might have numerous other motivations for being here. Some are here for the music; others, for the sermon. We might come for inspiration, community, or healing. It might just be a habit. But none of these reasons is ultimate, however helpful. A church is people gathered by God’s Spirit. If seeking the living Spirit of God is not at the center of our time, we are just a club. Any club can make nice music, have a good speaker, do good things, and have refreshments following. Clubs are nice, but they are not a church. A church is gathered for healing and transformation. God changes the world and cares for us by giving us each other. You are not here just for yourselves, but you are each a tangible reminder of God’s love to the person next to you.

God changes the world and cares for us by giving us each other.

Living in this reality is not always warm and comfortable. You may not have noticed, but people can be annoying. That doesn’t stop at the church door. We bring all of our family brokenness, disappointments, and fears with us. No amount of good vibes can cover the reality that we disagree on major things, that the church is polarized just as our society. If you are looking for a place to hide from it all, build a treehouse. The church is not going to help you hide. Churches split in bitter arguments. People leave in a huff, or from the boredom that comes with not being serious. God gets angry at the gathered people when we don’t take truth and justice seriously. Jesus went into the Temple and turned over the tables of the money changers. Amos quotes God as saying,

“I despise your feasts and solemn assemblies. Take away from me the noise of your songs; But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

I have been frustrated to tears with the church so many times, it’s a wonder I’m still here. But do you know why I stay? Because this is the people that God calls together, a wonderfully imperfect, frustrating, courageous people. I can’t imagine how the church has survived as long as it has without the patient and steadfast presence of the living God.



And so we come back to where Isaiah began:
“Arise, shine, for your light has come.”

Not because we are perfect, or right;
Not because the church has it all figured out.
Not because the darkness has disappeared.

We arise because God is faithful.
We gather because God still gathers people.
We worship because God has not given up on the world—or on us.

Every Sunday at 10 AM, this is our practice.
We stand.
We sing.
We give thanks.
We remember who we are.

And little by little, we rise from this place and carry that light into the week ahead.