Living Generously

This week and next, we’re going to spend some time thinking about the meaning of stewardship in our lives as followers of Jesus and in our shared life as a community of faith. Before we dive in, though, I want to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Or maybe the herd of elephants in the room. 

It’s no secret that our American culture is steeped in capitalism. And as consumers, we are trained to measure our success by comparing our stuff (clothes, car, electronics, jewelry… toys of all sorts) with others.

We may or may not measure up to some, but we can usually find at least one person to place ourselves above. And even as we make clear how much we have, we tend to want to keep how much we make and how much we give a secret.  We go well beyond privacy about money and giving…We flat out don’t want to talk about it…

And that paradoxical thinking about money that most of us grow into means the mere mention of stewardship can cause even the most mature Christians to reflexively cover their wallets and hold their purses a little closer.

That reflex has led many churches to instruct their pastors NOT to speak about money and generosity and how those relate to a life of faith… except when the church needs to ask for money.  And then, because we don’t like to talk about money, we need to cushion the blow by including an out.  Usually in the form of giving of our time and talents.

It’s getting a little crowded in here, but let me add another elephant to the herd…

We pastors are not immune to the money paradox. And we get to add a layer of awkward to the whole thing, given that a good chunk of any church’s budget goes toward …yep… the pastor’s salary.  

Oh, and then there’s the pressure not to preach about anything remotely controversial or uncomfortable for a few weeks before or after talking about the budget and giving… so that people don’t protest by withholding their tithe.

So, here we are, approaching the fall, the time of year when the session puts together the budget for next year, the time of year when my contract needs to be reviewed… the time of year when it would really help for us to know what folks anticipate giving.

Which means it is definitely the time of year when all of us would really just like to talk about something else.
Anything else.
Like the start of football season.
Or the Nelson’s new dog.
Or pretty much anything but money and what God wants us to do with it.

It really doesn’t have to be that way.
No really, it doesn’t.

In fact, I suspect Jesus would be mightily surprised at the church’s squeamishness over stewardship, given the number of references to money we have in the gospel accounts of his teachings and his conversations with the disciples. And the story of the early church, as well as the letters we read from Paul and other early church leaders indicate that finances were anything but a taboo topic.

So… why not just take a leap of faith and join them?

Let’s all breathe deeply and offer up a prayer before we read our scripture lessons for the day…   We’re going to start with a portion of Paul’s letter to Timothy.  1 Timothy 6:6-19

And now we’ll turn to a brief snippet of Luke’s gospel.  A scene with Jesus and his disciples that should sound familiar from earlier this year. Luke 20:45-21:4

—-

If ever the word of God was a rejoinder against a pastor standing in her pulpit wearing a long robe asking her parishioners to give until it hurts… so that she might live all the more comfortably… there it is.

To be honest, this passage makes me think of my grandmother, who gave generously to her church, but then would set aside change in a jar that eventually went to at least one of the evangelists she watched on tv. All of whom had more than enough money for their ministries, for their homes and for their sometimes bizarre projects. In the meantime, my grandmother had no choice but to live quite frugally until she died.

To this day there are plenty of famous ministry leaders or pastors we can point to who fly around in jets and live in mansions. It’s not difficult to find stories – even right here in Central Florida – of ministers worth millions whose parishioners give above their means in the hopes that God will bless them with the same sort of prosperity they see their leaders enjoying.

Let’s just say that you will never see this pastor in a Lear jet.  Or making promises that increasing your giving to the church will lead to an unexpected cash windfall for you. That’s not the way God works and it is certainly not what Jesus taught.

Now, Jesus did say at one point that we must be willing to give away all we possess if we want to truly follow. He told the rich young ruler to do just that… and the man couldn’t. Few of us could.

I do know of a few Christian monastic communities that have been founded in the last several years.  One is called the Simple Way, and each of its members take a vow of poverty. They have a common purse, into which any earnings go, and from which all their needs are met. And then the rest is given away. While I admire that level of faith and community, it’s hard to imagine taking on that call myself. And I honestly don’t know that all believers are called to that kind of living.

So I have to believe that somewhere in between running after wealth in the name of a God of Prosperity and running toward poverty in the name of the God who had compassion on the poor… surely we can find a sweet spot… a faithful way of living in relation to money?

That, actually, is where our conversation around stewardship needs to start.  As followers of Jesus, what is our relationship with money meant to look like?  

There are a couple of commonalities between Paul’s words to Timothy and Jesus’ observation about the widow.

The first is that our relationship with money is rarely neutral.  Money – wealth – can be used for good or evil. It has utility…  particularly in a market-based economy.

As I mentioned before, our society teaches us from an early age that our level of success or failure is in large part judged on how rich and/or how powerful you can become.  Just look at the most powerful people – in politics, in business… they are the ones with the money.

Yes – we can point to some exceptions…. But think about the influence of people who own billion-dollar corporations. And now think about the influence of people who work in the minimum wage jobs.

Still not sure this is true?

In July, Forbes Magazine estimated that the members of the President’s cabinet had a combined worth of at least 4.3 billion dollars…
Yes, I said billion.  With a B.

Fewer than 20 people in that room, all sitting around a table, holding the power to change the nation’s laws and to shape the policy direction of every government agency.
For good or for evil.
And they got there because of their wealth.

In the United States in 2017, clearly, money is power.

And yet, we are here to worship a man who never had his own home. We have gathered to worship a man who never even took up a collection, unless it was food to feed the people around him.

So it makes sense that the Christian tradition would have us reframe this notion that money IS power.
Our tradition points to the truth that money HAS power.
And thus, that money can have power over us.

When we allow money to take a place higher than its proper order, it begins to define us, it begins to shape who and what we value, and we can begin to measure our own self worth based on our possessions in ways that are really unhealthy. Our relationships are affected, including our relationship to God.

Our possessions can come to possess us.

In the end, stewardship is less about managing our money… Less about being wise about spending and investing… And more about understanding our relationship with money.

Like any relationship, this one needs tending and awareness. I mean, if the love of money is, indeed the root of all kinds of evil, it makes sense that we need to pay attention.
Really close attention.

And not just personally…  As a body of believers, we must tend to our relationship with our gathered money.

In what ways might spending or saving or tracking or investing our money distract us from our other relationships?

Does anxiety and conflict over finances come between couples?
I’ve seen it… in my own house.  

Or between members of the church?
I’ve seen that too, in more than one house of God.

Can we have conversations about money without fear of fighting, and if conflict happens, without the threat of someone leaving?

These are important questions… And the answers help us to understand our unspoken priorities.

Priorities that need to be spoken aloud.
Honestly and openly.

See, we need to be honest about our priorities because… any relationship that takes priority over loving God has become an idol, breaking the very first and greatest commandment.

And any relationship that keeps us from loving our neighbors… Well, that would be the second half of the law of love broken.

Whether we’re talking about a relationship with food, a person, sex, sports, some other possession,  or money, any relationship that takes priority over loving God has become an idol.

And because of its connection to power and influence, even within the sacred community of a church, our relationship with money is the one most likely to get out of alignment.  The root of all kinds of evil, indeed.

Thankfully, Paul provided Timothy with some relationship advice for people who have money.   Let’s look again at the end of that passage, starting at verse 17:   

As for those who in the present age are rich, command them not to be haughty, or to set their hopes on the uncertainty of riches, but rather on God who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.

Step 1….
Make sure your trust is where it ought to be. Not in money, but in God.
God has and always will provide for us.

This idea runs against our culture, which tells us to place our trust in the goods and systems and financial reserves that we’ve created.  But even as we trust them, we know in our hearts they can fail us.  We don’t have to look back but a few years to see the widespread consequences of systems crashing.

So what do we do?  We worry and work to amass even more, so that we might feel safe again. So that we might trust the numbers in our account statements and investment portfolios to cover our needs.

In a recent essay on trust in God as a key to stewardship Marcia Shetler wrote,
Trusting in God is part of our responsibility as followers of Jesus. It allows us to joyfully and generously let go of what we think is ours and release it for God’s use. Those acts of generosity are our witness to the world, sharing God’s abundance as channels of God’s love.

She went on to share a few examples from scripture….
Elijah asked the widow of Zarephath to be generous by sharing her last meal and trust that she and her son would not go hungry. …A small boy gave his lunch of five loaves and two fish, [trusting he would not be left hungry] and more than 5,000 people were fed. Moses’ mother trusted God with her son’s life. Twice.

The first time she placed his life in God’s hands when she put him in a basket in a river, Moses was returned to her and she was able to raise and love her son while he was young. Later, she gave him up again, and Moses ultimately fulfilled God’s call as leader of the Hebrews.

And then Ms. Shetler turns to the widow’s coin, saying
…there have been numerous interpretations of this incident. But perhaps what was most important was not only the widow’s ability to give to God totally, but to trust God completely.

Truly, the only explanation for the widow’s generosity is that complete trust.  She had faith that the God who had faithfully provided for her in the past would continue to do so.

When we truly trust God to provide for us, we are free to give as lavishly and generously as God. Not because by giving we have earned a prize, but because God has promised to care for us, and we believe – we trust – that God is faithful.

In verses 18 and 19, Paul encourages Timothy to see all that God provides, not simply as the means by which we survive, but the means for us to do good in the world.  Speaking of those who have money, Paul says
They are to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, and ready to share, thus storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of the life that really is life.

This is the sort of giving that moves us beyond a transactional, quid pro quo understanding of stewardship into a life that is marked by generosity.  

When God gives to us, when God provides for us, and when we acknowledge the gift, there is no transfer of ownership. No paperwork to be completed and filed and accounted for. Instead a link, a bond is established between us. Gifts connect the giver and the receiver.

This bond is what makes a really good gift, really special. And why a really bad gift can make you question a relationship.  I mean, think for a second… I bet you’ve gotten a gift that made you scratch your head more than a little. 

INSERT STORY ABOUT REALLY BAD GIFT….

It made me want to ask… Do you even KNOW me?  Why would you think I would enjoy/want that??

But think about a time someone gave you the perfect gift.
You know… something that was exactly the right thing, at exactly the right time.  

That kind of gift makes you feel known, loved, truly cared for by the one who gave it. 

Theologian Miroslav Wolf reminds us that no object on its own is a gift.  Not until the act of the object being chosen and given. Like this pen.  It’s just a pen.  Until I look at it and think, you know who could use this even more than me?  R.  

Here, R, I want you to have this…

Now the pen is a gift. I gave it to R and now he has something he needed because I saw that need and met it. The pen, now a gift, is also a social relation, an event between us.

This happens to us regularly, as God continues to offer the gifts of grace, of life, of air and all that we see around us. The more aware we are of these gifts, the more aware we are of the bond those gifts create between us and the God who loves us.

Wolf says it this way – “To live in sync with who we truly are means to recognize that we are dependent on God for our very breath and are graced with many good things; it means to be grateful to the giver and attentive to the purpose for which the gifts are given.”  

In other words, God gives to us, not only so that WE might enjoy God’s gifts, but so that we might know the joy of giving as we pass them on to others. As people who have received from God, we need to give to others. It is vital to our identity as humans. It is at the core of our identity as image-bearers of a gift-giving God.

Living a generous life requires an awareness of all that God is doing in our lives, all that God is providing.  Thus generosity begins with a heart of gratitude for a relationship that is not contingent upon us  and our ability to reciprocate God’s perfect love.

Generosity begins with a heart filled with gratitude for grace. Gratitude which leads us to love and serve and give in return. It leads us to live the life worthy of the calling to which we have been called.

Generosity leads us to use the spiritual gifts, the skills and talents and passions within us – all to the glory of God wherever we go… at work, in the community and in our homes… and at church.

Living generously means sharing from our abundance and even from our scarcity with those who are in need. It means taking the time to care for our own bodies and minds, taking a Sabbath rest away from the busyness our society worships.

Living generously and boldly as a church requires taking time as a body to look around, to take a fresh inventory of all that God has given to us.

Living generously and boldly as a church requires being grateful for the past and trusting God for a future.  And then following Jesus out into a world that needs the gifts we’ve been given to share.

Living generously requires us to receive new gifts with open hearts and open hands… courageously letting go of those things we’ve protected by holding them tightly…  So that our hands are able to gather up today’s blessings with gratitude and joy, offering them in turn to whomever might need them.

Living generously and boldly means trusting God enough to hold today’s blessings loosely so that we might open our hands and hearts to receive and give away God’s gifts again tomorrow…. and the next day… and the next.

Until one day we realize that our receiving and giving are a single inseparable stream, a river of life and love and grace flowing into and through us.

Next week, we will talk in more detail about some of those other aspects of our lives that are gifts from God which allow us to live and to love generously. And in the coming weeks, we will be talking about budgets and our household contributions to our shared life as a church.  

I ask that you would join me and our church officers in prayer for wisdom and clear guidance for our church as a whole and for each household…  That we would discern together what God is calling us to do with the gifts God has already given and those we trust God will give in the years to come.

Let us pray.   

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Breaking Down the Walls

Primary readings are from Ephesians 2, the Belhar Confession (as embedded below)

Ephesians 2:1-10

I want to pause here…  because this is such a beautiful distillation of the gospel.  

You were dead.
Alive in the flesh, sure, but dead in spirit
All of us once were, because all humans sin.  All fall short of the glory of God.
We were dead.

But God.  Such a phrase of promise, of hope…
But God – out of love – made us alive.
Alive in Christ and through Christ
Children of God, Siblings of Christ, worthy of sitting right there next to God at the dinner table

We were dead, but by grace we have been saved.
Made into something new.
Made for a purpose, for the work God has set before us.
Made one, because that work is more than any of us can ever do on our own.

And that is the hard part, isn’t it?  That “being one” part.
Hearing the word “You” – not as a personal encouragement or admonishment
Not as a bunch of you’s who happen to be near one another, hearing the same thing

Not you each
And not You every

You all.  All of you, together.

The same you as in “all of you” that Jesus used in almost every command he gave,
And when he said “my peace I give to you”
which is why the church must always think of you in terms of an ever-expanding we.

We are what God made us and is making us,

We are the church that was formed and reformed and is always reforming as we come to understand more and more about the height, depth, breadth and width of God’s great love for us in Christ Jesus.

We were dead

But God brought us to life, so that we might know life in the spirit, and so that through our way of living – the Jesus way of living – others might come to know the way, the truth and the life.

In Ephesus, part of the learning to live in the way of Jesus was reconciling two very different communities  into one community of faith. This is hard but sacred work, as we see in the next segment of the passage.

Ephesians 2:11-22

By the time this letter was written, there were probably more gentile Christians than those of Jewish heritage. The Jewish Christ-followers would have been accustomed to separation from their gentile peers. Gentiles were not allowed into the inner portions of the temple, so they would have remained physically separated in worship.  

Gentiles were not circumcised, so they would have been physically different as well. Not visibly in the course of most interactions, obviously, but identifiably different. The Jews had come up with a pretty inappropriate nickname based on that fact.

The truth is, gentiles were often seen as a separate group within humanity. The Gentiles were the outsiders, aliens and strangers in the land of the insiders – the Jews- the chosen ones in covenant with God.

But this Jewish-Gentile enmity wasn’t all on the Jews

Through the lenses of Gentile life and religiosity, Jews were seen as equally ignorant of God as defined by Gentile history and traditions. The separation between the two groups was not limited to theological disposition — to “belief”; it played out in very real ways in terms of human social relations.

I wouldn’t say that these groups of people had no interaction, but it is important to understand that they did not sit at the same table together; they were not interested in sharing life. They were in many ways in opposition to one another.

But God…  those words that promise good news…
But God brought these opposing groups together into one.
Even better news – God’s unification of the two groups did not mean “uniformity.” One group did not fall under the power of the more dominant group.

Instead, we see that God in Christ has made one humanity of the two. Gentiles do not become Jews; Jews do not become Gentiles. Rather, both Jews and Gentiles become united in Christ as Jew and Gentile.

In Christ, all believers are welcomed into the story of God  – a story that yes, first played out through the people of the covenant, but then was opened to all. A story in which they all play their own part in God’s continuing story of redemption.

We are separated from one another
But God, in an abundance of love, made a way for us to come together

Christ was and is in the business of knocking down the walls that divide us –
Like the great big old wall between republicans and democrats right about now.

Christ was and is knocking down walls between people who are well fed and living in homes with air conditioning in the summer and heat in the winter….  And their neighbors who aren’t sure where they will sleep when rains or find their next meal.

Christ was and is knocking down the walls between immigrants and those who would prefer to see longer and higher fences on their countries’ borders.

Christ was and is knocking down the walls we keep stacking back up between us over gender identity and sexual orientation, and what all that means in the church

Christ was and is knocking down the walls that divide us by the most insidious of divisions – race.

 

I graduated high school in 1984. I remember it being yet another turbulent time in history…not unlike today.

  • US and Soviet relations were awful and the nuclear arms race had me terrified. I laid awake at night wondering who would press the button first, us or them. 
  • Indira Ghandi was assassinated
  • The AIDS virus was finally identified, but precious little was being done about it
  • The Solidarity movement was gaining power in Poland, miners strikes in England led other workers to rise up
  • Lebanon, Syria, and Nicaragua were among the countries in political upheaval
  • The famine in Ethiopia extended into a second year, prompting musicians to raise money via LiveAid concerts

And I remember the growing opposition to the system  of apartheid in South Africa.

Growing up in a fairly segregated town (even though our schools were integrated), I imagined that South Africans were separated like we were… mostly by self-selection.   After all, people tend to gather with others like themselves.

What I didn’t understand was that the political, legal and social structures in South Africa were built on the framework of Apartheid, a framework of separation and hierarchy that allowed a small white majority to assert itself over the rest of the population.  

(following facts shared from Wikipedia)

  • The leaders who developed this system determined that South Africa was not a single nation, but was made up of four distinct racial groups: white, black, coloured and Indian. These groups were further split into 13 nations or racial federations.
  • The Population Registration Act of 1950 formalized racial classification and required everyone over 18 to have  identity cards specifying their racial group. Boards were established to assign race for those people whose race was unclear. Sometimes different members of the same family were assigned different races.
  • There was a law that prohibited marriage between persons of different races, and another that made sexual relations with a person of a different race a criminal offence.  
  • The Group Areas Act put an end to diverse neighborhoods and determined where one lived according to race. The Prevention of Illegal Squatting Act  allowed the government to demolish black shanty town slums and remove residents.

We can certainly see some parallels here in the US, especially prior to the Civil Rights laws enacted in the 1960s. But bear in mind that the Apartheid structure was built to support the will of the minority in South Africa, not the majority as it is here.

That kind of rule requires even greater shows of force and power, as well as work to demoralize and separate those who – if united – might rise up to take back their freedom. It was in this millieu that the South African church found itself in the mid-1980s.   

South African churches confessed – proclaimed – the same truth that we just read today…
God, in the form of Jesus, has not only made a way for us to reconcile ourselves to our Creator – Jesus is our peace. Jesus has made all of us one – we share one baptism, one bread, one cup, one Lord, one Father, one Spirit.  Jesus has brought us from death to life so that all might live in freedom and peace, so that all might know justice

And the reality in South Africa?
No justice, no freedom, no peace.
Not for the vast majority of the people.

The church had reached a status confessionis.  A moment at which the church must stand and confess- proclaim what the church believes- to itself and to those in power over the land. In these critical moments, as in the quotidian moments, the church confesses what it needs to remember.

Each week, we confess- we affirm – the promises of God; the identity of God. We confess the actions of God. As we confess our faith, our identity is re-forged. Because… what we choose to remember and speak aloud together – in doctrine and history, in faith and belief, all serves to inform who we are.  

It was with this understanding that Dietrich Bonhoeffer declared a state of status confessionis for the church under Nazi Germany. For Bonhoeffer and others, the Nazification of the church was an issue so threatening to the truth of their confession of Christ that no compromise, no coexistence was possible.

Bonhoeffer also recognized that the Nazi persecution of Jews demanded a serious response from the church. But more so, he recognized that the church was called “not only to bandage the victims under the wheel, but to jam a spoke into the wheel itself” and bring the engine of injustice to a halt. The resulting document was the Declaration of Barmen, which is part of our Book of Confessions

Under the leadership of Allan Boesak, the Dutch Reformed Mission Church in South Africa drafted what is now known as the Belhar confession in 1982. This  “outcry of faith” and “call for faithfulness and repentance” was the church declaring that apartheid constituted a status confessionis in which the truth of the gospel was at stake.  

According to the Belhar Confession, unity is both a gift and an obligation for the church. This unity originally referred to non-segregation between Christians of different races. The Dutch Reformed Mission Church formally adopted the Belhar Confession in 1986. Belhar’s theological confrontation of the sin of racism has made possible reconciliation among Reformed churches in Southern Africa and has aided the process of reconciliation within the nation of South Africa.

We’ve used some of the words from the Belhar Confession already today, in our Call to Confession.  And we’ll read another portion in a few minutes as our Affirmation of Faith. Right now, I’d like to share with you a video that was shown at General Assembly as they were preparing to cast the final vote which added the Belhar Confession to our Book of Confessions.

You’ll hear a variety of voices reading the full text of the confession.

I believe that much of the unrest we are experiencing in our country right now is a direct result of our willingness to remain segregated.

We are ok with allowing people who are not “us” to remain very much “them.”  And sometimes, we take that willingness a step further, not just leaving people be, in hopes that they let us be.

We also allow those others to be pressed down, pushed aside or worse.

We choose not to speak on their behalf.  

We choose not to act justly, to love mercy.

We stop looking across the divide and begin to rebuild the walls that serve not only to protect us from danger, but also separate us from our siblings in Christ. We build walls so that we can’t even see the neighbors we are passing by as they lay dying in the street.

I wonder what it would take to change things just enough that we could feel safe enough to stop building walls.  

I wonder what it would take for us to feel safe enough to attempt to embody the wall-toppling Jesus that we follow…

Michael Kirby – a PCUSA pastor in Illinois was sharing some thoughts along these lines yesterday.  He asked (as part of a much longer post on Facebook)…

What if we made it a priority to create a world where fewer people could be convinced that their lives have so little value that they could only achieve “greatness” through a death that brings death to others?

What if we assessed our individual and collective economic, political, social and military policies and practices to see where we contribute to people feeling that their lives, or the lives of others, have so little value?

What if we collectively said that hate disguised as zealotry was no longer welcome in our religious, political, social and other affinity groups, even if it meant some of our most influential and/or engaged compatriots lost power?

I would love to say that I have easy answers and steps to take

But I don’t.

Loving is hard
Reconciling is hard
Trusting is hard

Confessing the fullness of the gospel, from salvation to action, is hard
Confessing the call on the church – on us – to be the good news of liberation, healing, hope and yes, salvation, for people from whom we have long considered ourselves separate?
That’s even harder.

But God…
But God, the one who started a good work in you and me and all of us together, will be faithful to complete that work, through Christ Jesus, to the glory of his name.

Amen.

No, Really. Be My Witnesses

In its original context, its first hearing, this passage (Isaiah 43:1-21) was the Word of God, spoken to the people of God through the prophet Isaiah. Many many generations ago, before the gentiles  – people like us –  were folded into the tribes of Israel, made one family as adopted children of God through Jesus, the Christ. It was the Word of God, given to the people of God, so that they might bear witness to God’s goodness.

Did you catch that reference in there?  About halfway through… You are my witnesses, says the Lord.  Jesus used very similar words to prepare the disciples for their work to come.  You will be my witnesses.  The work that we continue in this generation…

The request that prompted this week’s sermon asks the question that Peter, James, John and the others must have wondered.  How do we answer that call? How exactly do we – today – carry the good news to our Jerusalem, Judea Samaria and beyond?

How do we become witnesses and bear witness?

The classic answer to this question flows out of the topic that we looked at a couple of weeks ago:  How do we get to heaven? And its corollary concern about avoiding hell.  

Back in college, when I spent a summer working as a youth minister for a Baptist church in a tiny town in Central Arkansas, we did what these folks called “witnessing.” This activity consisted mainly of walking around the neighborhoods where my youth group members lived, knocking on doors and then feeling like an absolute idiot for having done so.

I mean seriously… what did the church leaders really expect these people at home in the middle of the day on a Wednesday to say when I asked if they knew Jesus?   

Of course they said yes.  And of course they had a church home.  

Even if they didn’t, they knew to say yes! Otherwise, they would have had to listen to me attempt to tell them how to get saved. Or get invited to a Bible study at First Baptist that night. So mostly we walked and sweated for a couple of hours, then went back to the church for cokes and Bible study.    

I don’t remember what tracts we always had on hand, just in case someone didn’t know Jesus and wanted to. But I can tell you that most of them follow the same basic outline that we teach students who are involved in the high school or college ministry.

Way back in the day, our founder came up with what came to be known as the 4 Spiritual Laws. These four principles offer a clear expression of what most Christians believe about connecting our stories to the story of God, about understanding God’s grace.

  1. God loves you and offers a wonderful plan for your life. Pretty straightforward John 3:16 stuff, right?  The love of God in Christ is the offer of eternal and abundant life. But we don’t experience life that way because…
  2. All of us sin, and sin separates us from God.  There is a gap between God, who is perfect, and imperfect humans like us. There is nothing we can do on our own, under our own power, to bridge that gap.  But God has a solution.
  3. Jesus Christ is God’s only provision for our sin. Through Him we can know and experience reconciliation with God.
  4. We must individually receive Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord;  then we can know and experience God’s love and plan for our lives.

Now, as I said a couple of weeks ago, there are some nuanced theological differences among Christian denominations and traditions when it comes to describing that last principal.

We say that we are saved by grace, through faith, then it is sufficient to acknowledge the truth  of who Jesus is (the Son of God) and what that means for us (he came to save the world, not condemn the world).  And we believe that humans are incapable of choosing God on our own. The grace of God through the work of the Holy Spirit opens our hearts to these truths, and enables us to profess our faith in the saving work of Christ.

But truly – whether we pray a prayer or talk about receiving Christ, or affirm the promise made by the community at an infant baptism, the work is already done. By coming, living, dying rising, ascending, the reconciliation between God and humanity is complete and real and whole.

This means that God’s full force of love is available to us, even us.
God’s kingdom could be on full display, even now.
And all we have to do is show up, let the Holy Spirit speak through us…
So that the power of resurrection is made known, pointing the Christ, glorifying God, and transforming the world.

But the truth is, we falter, we fail to love ourselves, and we forget to love or choose not to love God and our neighbors.

Sometimes we get lost in striving or surviving in this hectic and complicated culture of ours. The buying and selling, saving and spending. And the inevitable comparing and judging that happens among friends and neighbors. We hold tight to our own stuff, the resources, power and privilege we have amassed, and we become unable or unwilling to trust that God’s generosity can overcome the scarcity that fear tells us is coming.  

Sometimes the surviving and striving find their way into the church, and faith gets pushed to the edges. We become comfortable swimming in a shallow pool of religiosity and forget the joy of spiritual disciplines that take us into the deep waters of relationship with the divine. Powerful worship  and earnest prayer get replaced by disconnected habits and rote patterns, mostly void of meaning.  

Part of the problem is cultural… We are coming out of an era in which Christianity enjoyed so much privilege that showing up took very little effort.  We could assume that the vast majority of people around us believed essentially the same things we did. Witnessing to the work of God in our lives was like, well, preaching to the choir.  And in an era of relative prosperity in the most prosperous country on the planet, it was easy for churches to send missionaries and ministers into the field, asking for reports in return for money.

Somewhere along the way, the good news got bifurcated, chopped into two ideas: Evangelism and Social Justice, creating a paradigm in which making disciples has nothing to do with meeting human needs.  

Here’s where that can get sideways…

When the church – the Body of Christ- becomes focused on salvation as the means to a heavenly afterlife, or as some form of eternal fire insurance, members of the Body forget their function in the world here and now.
Why work toward reconciliation with our neighbors?
Why work for peace in the world?
Why advocate for those with little or no influence over the systems and structures that leave them poor, sick or oppressed?  

There are other organizations, non-profits, even government programs to handle those things. The church’s work is to be sure they know about Jesus – Our version of Jesus, and baptism, and what a good Christian man or woman does or doesn’t do.

This privileged Christian culture we’ve created and inhabited is dangerous territory…

Over and over, in every one of the gospel accounts,  we see Jesus reminding the leaders and influencers in the synagogues and the temple that knowing the law is not the point. Parsing the people’s sins and doling out punishment or shame is not the point.

When we consider what we know of God’s faithfulness,
when we consider God’s great love for us,
when we go back to the story of Zelophehad’s daughters, petitioning Moses for a place in the promised land, and God’s huge, unexpected YES…
We see God’s desire is to bring everyone into the family.

We should be able to see that shaming and ostracizing others based on legalism to the exclusion of grace… is so not the point. In fact, it is so far from the point, it threatens to make us unrecognizable as followers of Jesus, witnesses to God’s love.  It threatens to keep us from recognizing Jesus among us, in the faces and lives of our neighbors.

The passage from Matthew 25:31-46 is a familiar one– but listen again

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.

All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry  and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’

And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’

Then the portion we don’t like to hear…. That we don’t want to believe can apply to us

Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’

Then, as if they had been in a sound-proof booth while the other conversation happened…

…they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’

Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.”

If we want to be witnesses for Christ, bearing witness to the work of Christ, we need to be able to proclaim the good news. Yes – In words… even paraphrases of scripture work…

God so loved that world that God sent Jesus, the one and only son of God, into the mess that is human existence. The good news is that he did not come to condemn the world, to condemn us, but to save us in all of our messiness.

God sent Jesus in human skin, with human hands, walking around on human feet.  Jesus was more than a prayer, more than a good idea. Jesus was a walking, talking, eating, sneezing, preaching, mourning, laughing and healing declaration of God’s desire to see ALL people experience love and grace.

All people, even the ones we are not so sure about, Even the ones we have been taught are somehow unworthy, unclean, or less than. Even people like me.  

That is the good news we are sharing, the gospel to which we are called to bear witness, the good news isn’t just that “Jesus paid it all”, but that Jesus made a way for all.    

My friend Martha reminded me yesterday:

“Jesus went to places and ate and drank with people who the religious authorities disapproved. We’ve got him all wrong if we try to turn him into some kind of elitist priss-pot. We’ve got him wrong if we prioritize any characteristic above his love for humankind, for all kinds of humanity.

When we are ready to condemn others for their differences, to define them as outside the circle of human consideration and divine love, we create a climate in which hatred and prejudice seem natural and sensible.

When we combine this evil spirit of condemnation with the ready availability of semi-automatic weapons, we sentence ourselves to the kind of fearful scenes that played out in Orlando and the aftermath of suspicion and despair that continues.”

(paraphrasing) Now – It’s really tempting to pretend that the evil, hateful spirit that was on display is confined  to one particular religion. The truth is, we can find it in any religion and we can find it among those with no religion. We can even  find it in the Central Florida churches suddenly expressing sympathy for the very lives they preached virulently against in the not so distant past. We can find it closer to home, too, anyplace we convince ourselves that we are the only ones Jesus would care about, the only ones Jesus would want to save.

But the good news to which we bear witness is for all people, and binds us in love to all people, love for all of creation,  and for our loving Creator.

We proclaim our faith in the one who came to save us from our hunger and our worry that sharing might leave us hungry.  Because people need bread and the bread of life.

We bear witness to the one who came to save us from our thirst and our willingness to poison our rivers, lakes, streams and aquifers in the name of progress and profit. Because people need clean water and access to streams of living water.

We proclaim our faith in the one who came so that we might know what it means to be claimed,  and to save us from our willingness to exile the ones Jesus would join for a meal. Because people need community and need to hear that they are God’s beloved children

We bear witness to the one who clothes us in righteousness and saves us from the shame that we would heap on ourselves and others. Because people need shirts and shoes and need to know that a heart can be made beautiful again.   

We bear witness to the one who touched the untouchables, and who loves the unlovables, including us. Even on our worst days…. We are loved. Because we are all more alike than we are different, all worthy of hope, all worthy of the faith in God.

It takes more than words to bear witness in this way, more than claiming membership in a congregation or a faith tradition, It requires so much more of us than saying to Jesus, I know who you are.  I want to be part of the family.  

We bear witness to the risen Lord by showing up.

The Christian response to the broken-ness, death and evil that still obscures the Kingdom of God here on earth is the same as that of the Christ we follow. We embody the love of God and put ourselves physically among the ones suffering because of brokenness, death and evil.

We lived out here when my dad died back in College Station, Texas.  My team at work was just 2 weeks away from hosting a major conference near San Antonio. I was trying to keep up with at least some of my responsibilities for the event and help with funeral arrangements and be a wife and mom, and begin to grieve.

A lot of people came to the service later that week, including 2 of the guys on my team here in Florida, who were doing their work and picking up some of mine to get ready for this event. They flew from Florida to Texas and back again… Just Days before we would all be in San Antonio… Because they wanted me and Paul and my whole family to know that community matters, friendship matters, being the Body matters. They were good news and God’s grace for me.

They showed up

At Sandy Hook. At Charleston. Here in Orlando.  Fifteen times President Obama has met with families whose lives were altered by mass shootings.  In quiet, hard, private conversations, he offered what solace he could, and he listened to their pain. He held hands and prayed with them.

He showed up.

If you want to bear witness to what God can do. You show up.

You bring casseroles and comfort food without worrying about the cost, without asking first. You show up and ring the doorbell.

You come by on a Friday and sit with our lunchtime regulars, and you eat out of a styrofoam container. You have rambly conversations and build relationships because everyone matters.
You show up.

You take a moment to ask the people who worship alongside you week after week, if they are doing ok,especially those whose hearts have been broken by grief, those who might feel a little less safe about living proudly just as they are and being open about who they love. Because children of God are children of God, created, claimed, loved and saved, every single one of us.
You show up and offer your love.

You go to a vigil, you attend a memorial service knowing you might be the only person there who doesn’t know the victim, doesn’t know the family.  You go, not because it makes you feel good, because it actually feels pretty awkward. You go because one more lit candle brings 100 more lumens into the darkness. Because when one part hurts the whole Body suffers.
You show up

You show up.
Like the women who showed up at the tomb to finish their work and came running back to say He is risen!
Like Peter showed up to preach when that first sermon started flowing from his heart and out of his mouth.
Like the brave souls who welcomed Paul in those early days following his conversion, even at risk of their own lives.

You show up
And you bear witness
You tell a story.
You sow a seed.

You show up because… how are they to call on one in whom they have not believed?
And how are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard?
And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him?
And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent?
As it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!”
But not all have obeyed the good news; for Isaiah says, “Lord, who has believed our message?” So faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ. (Romans 10:14-17)

Because I have only been here a short while – a year and a half, maybe-  when I look at the empty spaces in our pews, I don’t fill them with the same people that many of you can recall, friends and loved ones no longer in town, no longer on this earth…  

But I can fill this place with faces I wish were here.  And it breaks my heart to face the truth that many of them will probably never voluntarily cross the threshold of that doorway or  the door of any sanctuary.

Because far from being a sanctuary where they could worship and grow as disciples, in a community of people aware of and working on their own sins that separate them from God, too many sanctuaries have become places of judgment and rejection.  Even rejection of the children baptized in their fonts.

The faces I long to see in any sanctuary (here would be great, but truly anywhere) are those children of God, as well as their parents and friends who left when they no longer felt safe offering their dear ones welcome and support in their faith community.

I fear that sometimes, in our zeal to be the best we can be for Jesus, we lose sight of the best ways to show up and be Jesus for one another.  We create a gap that was never meant to exist.

And the only way to bridge that gap, is to show up.
To show up humbly aware of the ways we helped create it,
To show up willing to have all the conversations and do all the work that reconciliation requires.
To bear witness to the perfect love that drives out all fear.
Those are some feet I’d really love to see show up.

For the National Day of Prayer

Many people have gathered for Prayer Breakfasts, others will meet for afternoon prayer huddles or evening prayer services.

Some of us are at offices and other places of work, at school, volunteering, or caring for others in myriad ways. Our calendars are full, too full to make it to a formal prayer gathering.

Know this… Wherever you are today, you can join in prayer for our church, the larger Body of Christ, for our community, the nation and the world.

God already knows that we are overwhelmed with the pain and difficulties in our own lives and in all of those widening circles.  And God knows the many things that bring us joy, which we sometimes forget to include in our Thank You’s.  But when we take a moment to engage our hearts with our Creator’s heart, we are choosing to return the love which God has poured into us.
When you have a moment, step away from your task list and try this breath prayer:
Breathe in deeply, aware of the Spirit filling your heart as the air fills your lungs.
Breathe out slowly, making space for still more.
Breathe in the goodness of God’s grace.  Then breathe out a prayer of gratitude.
Breathe in the wideness of God’s love; breathe out a prayer for the people and places in need of healing.
Breathe in the steadfastness of God’s presence; breathe out a prayer of awe and wonder.
Breathe in, breathe out, and know that you are a beloved Child of God
Breathe in, breathe out, and let the words fall away.
Amen.

You know you’re a meeting junkie when 

I was asked to offer the invocation at today’s city council meeting. Apparently out church had dropped out of rotation at some point, and someone in the city office noticed last month. I said “of course” since I am always looking for opportunities to connect with the larger community. 

I made my way over to City Hall a little early, met the council members and mayor, got my instructions and found a seat. I offered my prayer (below) and sat down to watch the proceedings. 

There was a long discussion around the city recreation department’s proposed fee structure for youth sports. So long and robust, in fact that I had to leave at the break and didn’t see the vote. 

As I drive back to the church, it struck me. I was really enjoying that meeting. Just like I enjoy a session meeting or a Preabytery meeting. There is something about the energy in a room where people are working to find a solution to a problem that affects a community- whether municipal, ecclesiastical or organizational. Then there is the opportunity to collaborate with people beyond your usual area, like the folks I met today who are leading a task force in a part of town just south of our church. 

Yes, I am that meeting nerd. God help me. 

Anyway, here’s the prayer: 

Gracious God, 

We give thanks today for men and women who answer the call to public service, taking on the mantle of leadership beyond their own families and bearing responsibility for the community at large. 

We give thanks as well for the model of leadership and the teaching that you provided through your own Son, Jesus. 

Throughout his ministry, he made clear that the way of leadership is the way of love, of self-sacrifice, of compassion. Through his teachings, he made clear that your commandment to act justly and love mercy is still very much in effect. Through his obedience, he modeled what it means to walk humbly in your pathways. 

We ask Lord, that you tune the hearts of these leaders to yours, that their eyes would be open to the needs of every neighborhood in this city, and that their ears would hear the voices of all the households they represent, including those at the margins, the youngest, the oldest, and the most vulnerable among us. 

We ask you to pour out your Spirit in this place, drenching us all in your grace, that we might know what it means to love our neighbors in word and deed, even in the process of governing. 

In the name of the one who healed the lame, gave sight to the blind, fed the hungry and set captives free from all manner of bondage, Jesus the Christ, we pray. 

Amen.   

Most Excellent

Primary Scriptures 1 Corinthians 13, 1 John 4:7-21

Paul’s letters to the church at Corinth give us a glimpse into a culture that is at once very distant from us in time and geography, and yet somehow remains oddly close and familiar.

Corinth was a city built on business – almost capitalist, in a way. Diverse cultures collided as they traded goods and services. There was a wide gap between those with plenty of wealth and those on the bottom rung of the economic ladder.  

The church was diverse as well… This gathering of people definitely transgressed most of the traditional boundaries of ethnicity, gender, age, status and life situation. You would find among them both married and unmarried men and women, as well as widows and children. You would meet more converted Gentiles than Jews, although some of those Jewish members would have served as leaders in the synagogue previously.

You would be worshiping alongside many more people from the lower economic classes than from the elites. And yet at least one of the members had enough resources to meet Paul’s needs and support the church – all on his own.

That sort of diversity is beautiful.
That sort of diversity is also challenging.  

A variety of perspectives can enrich a community, adding depth to conversations with the wisdom born of broader experience.

A variety of perspectives can also become a breeding ground for jealousy, distrust and conflict.

In the church at Corinth, the latter took hold. They had a tremendous capacity for discord and division.  Boy could they argue.  

They argued about sexual morality; they argued about eating meat sacrificed to idols. They argued about eating practices at the Lord’s Supper, spiritual gifts, how to interpret the resurrection of the dead… They even argued about baptism. And they formed allegiances to different church leaders based on their teaching on such topics.  And maybe a little by which was their favorite preacher.

We don’t have to do a lot of adapting for those arguments to sound familiar…

The church still has differences about how healthy sexuality
And whether to offer wine or only juice for the Lord’s Supper.
We are still arguing about who gets into heaven – and if there will be any Jews there from before Jesus’s time.

Schisms have erupted over questions like
How should we decide what to pay the pastor?
What color should we choose to paint the wall or carpet the sanctuary?
Can we do music that isn’t in the hymnals?  Or bring in drums? 

In the opening section of his first letter to the church in Corinth, Paul asks a very pointed question in light of all these disagreements – Is Christ divided?

This question leads him to the metaphor we continue to use when we describe the church today: We are the Body of Christ, made up of many members.  Paul’s greatest concern isn’t the theological arguments, so much as the division he sees, the disconnect between the members of that body.

Paul’s letter to the church is a call to unity.  Not uniformity, but unity.

You see, after 18 months among the Corinthians, Paul knows – there truly is no way they will ever be a homogenous group. God has drawn together an amazing group that represents the beautiful  – if chaotic – nature of God’s creativity.  They are multi-lingual, multi-hued, multi-cultural, and multi-opinionated, thus multiplying the frustrations and conflicts they experience.   

What’s a pastor to do? Especially when writing from another city?

First, Paul points to Christ, using the dispute over baptism. It didn’t matter who did the baptizing, the One in whose name that sacrament happened…   Jesus, the Christ, that’s who matters. All of them had been baptized in the name of the Son of God who lived, died and was raised to life again.   

Then Paul lays out what scholars call an ecclesiological ethic. Most of us would say something more like…Paul tells them what it’s going to take to be the church together.

He lets them know that he is aware of what they’ve been up to. He points out the ways that they’ve allowed conflict to seep into their community in ways that keep them from bearing witness to their faith in Christ and bearing witness to the power of the resurrection.

Paul acknowledges that they aren’t all bad, that there are lessons they have locked onto and that some of what they seek as they live in the Spirit is good. Then he sets them up for his exhortation by saying, keep at it… keep doing all those good things.  AND I will show you a still more excellent way.

Love.

Love is the greatest power that humanity can bring to bear in any situation.
Love is the ultimate ethic.
Love is the only way to survive the disagreements that threaten to overwhelm a community made up of people with fundamentally different lives, values and experiences.

Love.

Love is the only hope for breaking apart the contentious groups that have taken sides against one another.
Love is what can reunite this fragmented community and allow them to enrich, rather than alienate one another.
Because in God’s Kingdom, diversity is non-negotiable, which makes love the most precious commodity.

Paul’s language is undeniably beautiful here. Poetic even, especially for Paul.  But we are not doing justice to his passion if we read this as poetry. He’s not happy. He’s not celebrating a lovely moment in the life of this church family. He’s angry… spitting mad, you might say.  

This is probably how it went down… Paul has an a scribe… a guy sitting near him with his writing materials, trying to keep up with Paul as he paces around and alternates between encouraging and chiding his friends.

When Paul thinks about the ways that the gifts of the Spirit, the elements of worship, have divided them.  When he describes as good and helpful those things God has given the community to build them up and empower them to be Christ’s witnesses in Corinth – he gets more and more fired up.  

Paul realizes that he needs to paint a picture of what could be. Not a tribute to what is, but a picture of what could be… what should be. Paul is laying out a new action plan, a strategic plan, even, that will assure the community’s survival in the future. He is emphatic about making sure they get it.  

Listen again- this time in the plain language of Eugene Peterson’s translation in The Message… I think you’ll hear some of that passion shine through a little more clearly.

If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.

If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.

If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Without love, we are Bankrupt. Flat broke.  Nothing and nobody.

Most of our English translations lose their steam as we move into Paul’s descriptions of what love looks like in this imagined world. They turn into passive sentences – a subject connected to adjectives that describe what love is or isn’t. In some ways it gets a little too touchy feely.

Paul’s not talking about feelings here, though. He is talking about the actions we choose when we choose love.  

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,

Paul says that love…
Isn’t always “me first,”  My way or the highway
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others, and whether or not we’re even
Doesn’t revel when others grovel and beg
Takes pleasure in the blossoming of truth,
Love puts up with anything,
Love trusts God always…. always,

Love always looks for the best, and believes the best of others
Love never looks back,
Love keeps going to the end.  (italicized phrases from The Message)

The work of love is the work that is missing in the church in Corinth.
Because it is work.  

We have a choice, in Paul’s view. And when we choose love, we choose the way of Christ. We choose to speak and act in ways that are counter to a culture that fears those who speak or act or dress or love differently. When we choose love, we choose to affirm the humanity of every person, including those who are not like us.

Love is the only means by which we have any chance on this earth to live fully and completely in the knowledge and fellowship of God.  

Love leads us into unity without requiring uniformity.

Too often, we churchy-folk act as if the mission of the church is to gather up a bunch of other people who are like-minded – people who think the same way we do – especially if they are likeable. Perhaps because we think or hope that it will be easier to love one another if we’re enough alike. Or at least to feel like we are loving people.

Then the disagreements come.

We stumble onto something that reveals how differently we think.  No longer like-minded, no longer unanimous. We begin to lose trust. And it doesn’t feel like love when we argue.

But You know what Paul doesn’t say in this chapter about love?
Paul never says that love feels good.

The love Paul describes requires work. It requires being vulnerable and flexible. It requires being adaptable. It requires admitting that we don’t know everything about everything. It requires admitting the times we pretended to know everything and got some of it, maybe even a lot of it, wrong.

Love takes risks that logic never would.

All of which leads me to wonder…

What if the measure of how well we love isn’t how often we agree or  how often we convince others to pretend to agree with us?

What if the truest measure of love was how well we maintain unity in times of tension and disagreement?

What if we lived like we believed that love makes room for faithful and faith-filled disagreement.

What if we lived like we believed that love doesn’t play zero-sum games, the kind of games where winners take all and losing feels like you’ve lost it all.

Love reshapes us individually and together into whole and holistic people, people who are anchored in the well-being of others. I don’t know about you, but I’ve rarely experienced being reshaped and transformed as being easy or pain-free. Unless I am willing to release my fear of being changed and allow God’s perfect love to cast out my fear.

The second most beautiful passage on love, in 1 John 4:7-21, reminds us that love is of God. And that GOd’s love reaches its intended purpose, not just as we each come to love God in return for the gift of love in Christ Jesus.  

God’s love reaches its intended purpose when it creates a community of continuing love, love that is among us and extending out beyond us.

Love of self, love of being right, love of power and privilege… These are, more often than not, the fruits of fear. Fear of loneliness, fear of shame, fear of oppression and loss/

God’s love for us through Jesus the son,
God’s love for us through the empowerment of the spirit,
that love sets us free from pursuits fueled by fear.

Dear ones, we are to love one another. Not in spite of our differences, but in light of our differences.

Love is of God – who was and is, and who ever will be.
And thus love never, ever, ever, ever…
never ever…
ends.

We know love only because God loved us first, and made that love known in Jesus, whose obedience and saving death we recount and proclaim at the Lord’s Table.

We remain in God when we remain in love.  And God remains in us.

God’s spirit will continue to send dreams and visions.
We will speak and be given wisdom beyond our own capacity.
We walk by faith today, but it will one day be sight.
Hope will end in fulfillment when God’s Kingdom finally comes as we pray it will.
But even on that day at the very end of this age, love will abide.
Love will remain.
Because God’s love will never falter or fail.

That is the love that we are drawn toward,
It is the love that we are shaped by,
the love for which all people hunger and thirst
The love in which we are drenched by grace
The love to which our lives must bear witness today and every day

That is the love with which we are filled – God’s love – the most excellent love of all.

Persuaded

Last week, we read in Acts 3 about a healing that happened in the earliest days of the disciples’ ministry in Jerusalem. At this point, they were still learning what it meant to be leaders who served, and they were still learning to follow the way of Jesus with only the memories of his teaching to guide them. And the Holy Spirit to prompt and empower them.

Today, we jump way ahead to chapter 17.  

The spread of the good news has happened just as Jesus said… The disciples proclaimed Jesus as the Risen Lord, and as they continued to heal and teach and pray and worship, more and more followers began to do likewise. Gatherings of followers were birthed, communities of Christ-followers taking care of one another and their neighbors – in Judea and Samaria and ever farther out from Jerusalem.

We are now about 20 years past Peter’s first Pentecost sermon. Paul had long ago experienced his dramatic conversion on the road to Damascus.  No longer the famous persecutor of the followers of Jesus,  Paul is counted among the apostles. Like Peter, his fiery passion can still be both a blessing and a curse, as Barnabus found when he traveled with Paul.  

As we pick up the thread this morning, Paul is traveling with Silas on a major Roman highway, one that connects the eastern and western portions of the Empire.  Listen for the word of the Lord…   Acts 17:1-9

It would seem Paul’s first visit to Thessalonica is a little rocky. Probably not the first story you would want to tell an aspiring church planter.  But then, much of Paul’s ministry reads like a cautionary tale.

Luke tells us that Paul follows a pattern not unlike Jesus did when he visits the synagogue and begins to teach.Starting with a familiar passage of Scripture, and perhaps a familiar interpretation of it,

Jesus would then come to a new and challenging reading of the text.  “You have heard it said…” he would begin. And then as heads begin to nod in agreement, Jesus would continue, “But I say to you… “

Like all good Rabbis, Jesus was unafraid to argue, to do the work needed to convince others that his way was the right way to understand the holy scriptures. Of course, Jesus had the advantage of knowing God’s will and intent more intimately, more fully, than other teachers ever could.

At least until Pentecost, when the power of the Holy Spirit was poured out in new ways, allowing for his followers to experience a new depth of relationship with God.

So, Luke tells us Paul’s pattern of teaching follows Jesus’. In this case, he argues from scripture that the messiah would, by necessity, suffer and be raised from the dead.  

We should note that this is about a decade before the gospels were written and distributed, much less gathered into a new testament. You see, Paul and all those who proclaimed Jesus as Lord would still say that they were part of the larger Jewish tradition. They looked to the same Hebrew scriptures that Jesus had used when teaching and leading.  

So this is where Paul would start, with the traditional understanding of the messiah coming, suffering and being raised from the dead.  All likely to be met with nods of agreement. Then, he would offer his conclusion: Jesus must be the messiah.  

It was this radically new and different application of the scripture that was so difficult to accept – Jesus as the Christ.

People needed persuading.  If anyone could understand their position, it was Paul.

After all, this was the man who had tracked down followers of Jesus and persecuted them. He was an expert in the law, a pharisee, a leading person in the synagogue… much like the men that Luke refers to as “The Jews” throughout Acts. Perhaps that background, combined with his own dramatic encounter with Christ, is what makes him so persuasive.

In Thessalonica, a diverse group listens and over time, many are persuaded.  There are Jews (some of the synagogues leaders), many Gentiles who have some connection to the synagogue, and some leading women in the community.  

But there are other leaders among the Jews who grew jealous of Paul. Perhaps they argued with him, but less persuasively. Perhaps they knew that debate would be less effective than plotting against him. Especially if they could keep their hands relatively clean by putting others up to no good.

They stir up trouble by hiring ruffians to act as though they are upset with Paul’s teachings, causing enough of a disturbance in their search for Paul and Silas to draw the attention of the city rulers.

Jason, possibly one of the Jews persuaded by Paul’s teaching, became the scapegoat.  Even though they don’t find Paul at his house, Jason is accused of harboring people with dangerous political ideals.

These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also, and Jason has entertained them as guests. They are all acting contrary to the decrees of the emperor, saying that there is another king named Jesus.

These charges are false, of course. Jason is not part of a political conspiracy, nor is Paul.

And yet…  

Committing to the idea that Jesus is the messiah IS a political stance. Saying Jesus is Lord – King – the one to whom I pledge my allegiance – is a political statement over against other political powers, including the Empire.  This was exactly the sort of radical statement that placed Jesus in the hands of Pilate and eventually on the cross.

Fortunately, Jason and the other believers are released and need only pay a fine, unlike the flogging and arrest that Paul and Silas had recently experienced while staying with Lydia.  But this was enough trouble that the believers in Thessalonica sent Paul and Silas on to Beroea, about 50 miles away.

Luke doesn’t give any further attention to Paul’s founding of church in Thessalonica.  This is it. That’s their story.  

But we know from his letters that Paul spent a fair amount of time in the city, helping get the church there started, getting to know the people. His first letter to them, probably written a year or so after these events, demonstrates that their relationship was close.

Listen to the opening words from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians.

Along with deep gratitude for these friends, Paul speaks to the ways that they, too,  have answered the call to be witnesses. Remember, these are the ones who had been persuaded by Paul’s teaching. Or perhaps by the witness of those who learned from Paul.

They have become imitators not only of Paul but of the Lord, in the ways that they demonstrate faith, love and hope. We know that they have experienced – like Paul, and like Jesus – persecution beyond the event described in Acts.  Yet, in spite of what they endured, they trusted in the good news that Christ was risen.

They had experienced first hand the power of the Holy Spirit, as it opened their hearts and minds to understand and rejoice in the work God had done in and through Jesus, even as they suffered.  

Can you hear the words echoing – some twenty years after Jesus spoke them?  

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you.  

Whether you have been waiting 50 days in Jerusalem
or you have been knocked off your high horse 
on the way to persecute other believers
or you have been persuaded by a former persecutor turned preacher…
You will receive power.

And you will be my witnesses. In Jerusalem, in Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the Earth

In Thessalonica, in Macedonia and Achaia, and to the ends of the Earth.    

They have received power, and word continue to spread of their faith and faithfulness. So much so that Paul gives thanks for them and their witness each time he prays.  

See, it isn’t just the church Paul cares about. Each believer’s experience of the Holy Spirit is important to Paul and his understanding of the good news.  That power is the prime indicator — a down payment, if you will — that God makes in our lives to let us know that we are in this remarkable relationship with the Almighty.  It is a foretaste of the fullness of our relationship to come, and evidence of transformation available here and now.

Living in the Spirit, in fact, is the main way that Paul describes the way of life for believers throughout his letters. In Romans 8, Paul says it this way:

“But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him”.

The Spirit is evidence that our relationship with Christ is not a distant relationship, but an intimate one. The Spirit indwells us, leads and guides us, connecting us more and more fully to the heart of God and to the hearts of all God’s children. In other words, the Spirit enables us to imitate Christ, obeying his commandments to love God with heart, soul, mind and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

The healing, the preaching and teaching, the incredible growth of early church… None of it was accomplished apart from the Holy Spirit.

Jesus accomplished his ministry in the same way, through the power of the Spirit that came upon him as he was baptized..

The hungry and hurting people we see may look and sound a little different from those Jesus encountered, but we have access to the same power that allowed Jesus to look on them with compassion and enter into their lives.  We have access to the same power to offer wholeness, healing and hope for a future.

We have access to the same power that allowed Paul the wordsmith and legal expert to find common ground with a plainspoken fisherman named Peter.  We have access to the same opportunity to reconcile broken relationships within the church and build new ministry opportunities as a result.  

As Paul understands it, imitating Christ requires living in absolute reliance on the power of the Holy Spirit. This means relinquishing all the controls and safeguards we have built around ourselves: Our neat and tidy habits and comfortable rituals might not be God’s plan. The people we’ve kept at arm’s length, the relationships we’ve left untended or unmended, are likely to become the Holy Spirit’s priority.

Living in the power of the Holy Spirit means making choices that make more sense in God’s Kingdom than in our social structures.

Let me tell you a story.  This past December, First Presbyterian Church in York, Pennsylvania, celebrated the 50th anniversary of a very unlikely union. In 1965, Faith Presbyterian, the spiritual home of an all-black congregation, faced a difficult choice: Operate under a crushing financial burden, dissolve the church or merge with another congregation.

The members chose merger.

After researching churches in the area, First Presbyterian was identified as the best option. It was an all-white congregation.  And remember what year I said it was? 1965

Looking back, members recall many differences

“…one church had less than 100 members; the other, more than 1,000. One church building was small, cozy and needing some repairs; the other was large, intimidating and well maintained. … One house of worship was unable to financially support a full-time minister; the other was able to employ at least two.

But the largest difference that had to be addressed was the fact that one church was predominantly  African-American and the other was Caucasian, and these were the 1960s.”

In 1965, a merger of this sort was a courageous choice for both churches.

There was, of course, a combination of anxiety and excitement as the many meetings and conversations took place.  Before the merger could be completed, some members in each congregation chose to leave, but many more decided to stay.

“With the Holy Spirit hovering over the new church, the two congregations molded together and became as one. The first joint worship service was held on one of our most holy days— the day we celebrate the birth of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ. And that Christmas in 1965 gave us much to celebrate.”   (Read the full story here)

Living in the power of the Holy Spirit means doing things that make sense in God’s economy, but not ours.

Let me tell you about the Tippecanoe Presbyterian Church in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.  They only had 51-members when they decided to open their church doors in response to the needs of homeless persons  in the Bay View area of the city.

They were among several churches in the area noticing an increase in the number of people experiencing homelessness and seeing members of their congregation were at risk. They knew something had to be done, and began exploring viable intervention options.

Their original vision was to create a rotating shelter, but the city made clear that wasn’t an option. So the church responded by opening its doors for prayer vigils—overnight prayer vigils, at which ALL were welcome to pray. Prayer created the only Southside warming room in Milwaukee.

Their prayers also gave birth to the Divine Intervention ministry— which currently provides basic needs to homeless adult men and women through five programs.  There is the overnight prayer vigil/warming room;

three different meal programs;  and Garden Keepers, which offers the ministries’ guests a garden internship as workforce development.

Obviously, a church roughly the size of ours could never do all of that alone – they have partnered with other almost 50 organizations – some churches, some communities of other faiths, some other charities. And they work closely with the Milwaukee Police and Social Services.  (see the full story here)

And the Holy Spirit is right there in the mix, we can be sure.   

Living in the power of the Holy Spirit means taking risks, bearing witness to God’s faithfulness.  

Living in the power of the Holy Spirit is, in fact, why and how followers of Jesus become known for turning the world upside down.

Bucket – Bouquet – whatevs…

This morning, while the hygienist was making sure my teeth would pass inspection by the dentist, I got a text from one of my church members
Now, these roses are from the yard of a family whose business was growing roses and other flowers  (well, it still is, just not this generation).  They’d been tended with love all winter and our early Florida spring.

Of course, the answer was yes!  Not that I have any real skills at arranging flowers, but I can fill a vase ok.
She stopped by to let me know they were in the kitchen when I was ready to have at them… What she didn’t say was they they’d dropped off a whole bucket!!


Yes- that is a mop bucket of three different types of roses, with 10-15″ stems. Loaded with thorns, I might add.

I brought them back to my study, where I realized the closest thing I have to a vase was the pitcher I use to pour juice for communion and water for foot-washing and baptisms.  Turns out it’ll hold a fair number of roses, too.

It smelled amazing in my study this afternoon. And after handling the stems and leaves and loose petals, my hands retained a bit of that lovely fragrance. Like the rose water I had poured from the pitcher on Maundy Thursday.

Buckets, bouquets, whatevs. Today, love looks and smells like pink roses.

When it’s not my apology to receive…

Yesterday, I was in a day-long meeting with leaders from the ministry at which I work, along with faculty members from several Christian universities with whom we partner to help their students connect with opportunities for short and long-term missions in the States and abroad.  It was an interesting meeting, hearing the perspectives of these “outsiders” who work with college students in an academic rather than a parachurch context.

Totally unrelated to the business at hand, I got to chat with one of our visitors who was loving all the “small world” connections between his circle of friends and those of us in the room.  I talked about seminary and my current bivocational call to the church, and he asked what if our congregation had any denomination affiliation.

Because my work context is very evangelical-conservative and my denominational work/home is seen as progressive mainline, letting people know that I am ordained is enough to shut down a conversation.  Knowing the stories of some of my clergywomen friends who had completed degrees where he was on faculty, I expected a fairly swift pivot would follow.

So I tried to ease what might be awkward by laughing a bit when I said “PC(USA)… Because, they let women play there, too.”

Far from shutting down or pivoting, I got what might be the most sincere first-person apology I have ever heard from a man regarding the church’s views of women.  He apologized for women being marginalized in the church. He apologized for the way men ignored women’s gifts and leadership. He said “It is past time for the church to repent” for these sins.

I don’t know how to convey the look in this man’s eyes or the conviction in his voice, other than to offer up this testimony.  It was a powerful moment that cut right through my attempt to avoid being hurt.

I said thank you.  And that it meant a lot to me, and that I had been blessed in both of my vocations to be doing ministry among people who affirmed my gifts and call to ministry.  Which is true.

In some way, this wasn’t my apology to receive. I grew up in a church that ordained women as elders and ministers. I was surrounded by strong women in that denomination as I first discerned my call to leadership. When I found my way back into church via the PC(USA) there were so many more men supported me than were neutral or negative. I had choices. I had safe places to learn and grow and find my voice as a preacher and provider of comfort and counsel.

But having spent part of the night before reading tweets from and in response to the conference for “Biblical Manhood and Womanhood” and recalling the ways that co-workers in both of my work worlds persist in subtle (sometimes not-so-subtle) sexism rooted in scriptural interpretation, I wanted to let his words wash over me and cleanse some of wounds I carry.  And the wounds of my sisters in Christ.

So I stood and received that apology for the women who were told NO by the very institution at which this man has taught for 30+ years.  For the women whose male pastors made sure they quashed any move of the Holy Spirit in their churches to support women’s leadership. For the women who endured all-male classes in seminary and remain faithful in denominations and faith traditions that don’t yet recognize women as full participants in the life of the church.

There is much the church needs to confess and much repentance that is overdue. Our complicity in so many of the sins of our western culture is heartbreaking.  I am coming to believe that if I am unwilling to engage in the kind of one-on-one conversations that allow us to offer and receive apologies that are not ours alone, I am holding the kingdom of God at a distance.

My Presbyterian circles are wrestling with a proposed corporate confession and apology to our LGBTQ siblings in Christ. I am not sure where I land, having seen my friends to whom this apology is meant to be offered responding with mixed feelings as well. That is not my apology to receive, and I want to be mindful about how it is offered.

Here’s what I am fairly certain about  – I cannot expect a corporate confession alone to reconcile me and the one my words (or my church’s words) have driven away.  Not any more than my colleague expected me to feel fully welcome on his campus without knowing I had at least one friend, one person who “got it” deeply enough to say the words that invite an exploration of reconciliation.

Beautiful Things Await

Primary Scripture Acts 3:1-10, also Acts 1:8  (quoted below from NRSV, as read by liturgist during the sermon)

As we opened our time in the book of Acts last week, we saw Jesus give his followers the last of his instructions on this earth: He told them to go back to Jerusalem and wait.  He said to them:

You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem,  in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.

They would bear witness to the truth of Jesus’ teaching, to the truth of his resurrection, and to the reality that the Kingdom of God had indeed drawn near. That God was and is at work in tangible ways, even after Jesus was gone.

In chapter two, the spirit arrives, Peter preaches, and a fellowship of believers  – a new community of faith – is born. They are led by Peter, James, John and the other disciples, but their work wasn’t about building an organization or starting a new religion.  

They were focused on being witnesses, right there in Jerusalem. As Luke describes these early days, the growing numbers of Jesus followers were worshiping, teaching, preaching, and looking after the needs of others. They met together regularly, in the temple and in people’s homes. And many signs and wonders were being done.

By the apostles.

I will confess – and I suspect I am not alone in this – I had a harder time with the idea of these followers being responsible for signs and wonders than with the idea that Peter could stand in front of a crowd and preach.

Truly, I struggled for quite a while with this.

Seriously, these men and women are a lot like me. By that I mean, they are the goobers written about in the gospels as needing Jesus to teach and reteach and reteach pretty much everything. They were rebuked and told they lacked faith. They are uncomfortably similar to me.  

And the truth is, I don’t see me (or people that much like me) performing miracles today. Or being part of signs and wonders on a regular basis. How is it that Peter and John, Thomas and Mark, Matthew and Luke, the Marys and others were about the business of healing and such?

One commentary I read pointed to the timing.  At that particular moment, this nascent movement of faith was given a particular communal vocation. Together, they answered Jesus’ call to bear witness to the resurrection. Their actions were critical pieces of God’s plan to continue to reveal the kind of Kingdom that will one day come to fruition. Their steps of faith were part of revealing God’s power – in relationship with humanity – to bring healing, wholeness and shalom.

And so, as we read about the Acts of the Apostles, as Luke called them, we get a glimpse of what resurrection power looks like.  We see a much less filtered, much less tempered version of the power that we, even here, today,  have access to.  Because we, too, have been baptized in water and have been empowered by the Holy Spirit.

God longs to work in, among and through us in this community, in our country, and in the world. We too, will be his witnesses. And we all have stories to tell, stories that bear witness to God’s power to change our own lives,  just like the man Peter and John meet in our reading today.

Listen for the Word of the Lord in scripture and in the story of this un-named man as both bear witness to God’s glory.  

One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer, at three o’clock in the afternoon.  And a man lame from birth was being carried in. People would lay him daily at the gate of the temple called the Beautiful Gate so that he could ask for alms from those entering the temple.  

That day started out pretty normal. I woke up, did my morning thing while I waited for my friends. They would come by every day, about the same time, and take me to the temple.

I didn’t have a lot of friends. And the ones I did have? Well, they weren’t exactly the kinds of people my parents dreamed their son would call friends. Let’s just say they knew how to work a crowd.

My parents did what they could for me, back in the day. Even when I was very young, my legs were not strong enough to hold me. I could drag myself about, but never very far. Certainly not beyond the confines of the house.

Over the years, a few people took pity on me. There were a handful of “healers” who came through  Jerusalem. I never met any of them. I had my share of people pray for me; maybe more than my share.

But I guess my faith was too weak, or my sins were too great. I don’t know.

When you can’t stand, can’t walk, and can’t explain your weakness away with an injury, people assume that you must have done something to bring forth God’s punishment in such a tangible way.  Some of them can’t help staring at you, but others can’t look away quickly enough. I guess they don’t want to imagine themselves in my condition. Or worse, to imagine their children crippled and begging.

Honestly, that’s part of what made the temple a good place to beg. People go there to seek their own healing or forgiveness from sins.  And of course the priests teach that it is good in the eyes of God to give alms to the poor.  

So, my friends helped me get to the temple every day, where I could sit and wait for people to drop their alms on my blanket. My spot was at the gate called Beautiful. Not that the other temple gates weren’t quite impressive, but this one was especially beautiful. It was adorned with such artistry and such fine materials – the master craftsmen had clearly put in their very best work.

You can imagine the juxtaposition between those stunning doors and my twisted, useless legs. It made for a profitable location, relatively speaking.  People were reminded how generous God was, how God would provide for them if they were to help provide for this poor, pitiful man on the blanket…

All I had to do was ask, to call out, reach out. And if people made eye contact, they would usually give.

When he saw Peter and John about to go into the temple, he asked them for alms.  Peter looked intently at him, as did John, and said, “Look at us.” And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them.

I was not quite to my spot that day, still being carried, when I spotted the men. Something about them made me call out, even before I was settled.

Talk about eye contact. The one I came to know was Peter looked at me.  I mean LOOKED at me.  Not searching me with suspicion, but looking at me with something I’d rarely seen.

I looked over at the other man and saw the same thing. It was true compassion.
Not pity or sorrow.
Compassion.

By the time he said “Look at us” I was already looking, hard. Trying to figure out if I ought to know them. Trying to imagine why they would have any real concern for me when no one else ever had. Or at least not in a long time.

I don’t remember the guys putting me down or backing away. I just remember looking into those eyes.  And I know there was a crowd there, like always, but I don’t remember hearing another sound. Just this crazy command.  

But Peter said, “I have no silver or gold, but what I have I give you; in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk.”

Stand up and walk. Really?  Stand up on legs that hadn’t ever been able to hold me?

And in whose name? My mind went searching.

Jesus… Jesus of Nazareth…  Jesus of Nazareth??
The one that had been making so much trouble in the temple around passover?
The one they killed?

That Jesus?

But before I could protest, Peter was right there in front of me. Closer than any of the people that tossed coins at me would ever dare to come. As close as my friends who would come and lift me up to go home.

And Peter took him by the right hand and raised him up; and immediately his feet and ankles were made strong.

I had heard some of the stories about this Jesus being raised from the dead.

I don’t know how, but this Peter raised me up – in the name of that Jesus – and my legs came to life.

I held his hand for a few steps, just in case, but before long it was clear that I had been healed. Well and truly healed.

Jumping up, he stood and began to walk, and he entered the temple with them, walking and leaping and praising God.

Honestly, I had given up on being part of worship long ago. I had never imagined being part of a family or the community again.  I had mostly given up on the idea that my life mattered to God at all.  

Going through the gate, on my own two feet, entering the temple with these people, all of it was more than my heart could hold. I couldn’t help but cry out with joy, leaping and singing praises to God.

I remembered the story my father told me long ago- the story about King David when he brought back the ark.  He went singing and dancing in the streets ahead of the ark, so filled with joy that he didn’t care who saw him in his undergarments.  

That is the kind of elation I felt that day.  And I really didn’t care who saw.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted people to know what happened to me.
And WHO had made it happen.  

Maybe God was going to take all those years of sitting at the gate and put the waiting to use.

When people who had always known me as that guy who was sitting and begging at the Beautiful Gate recognized me, I got to tell my story again.
Yes, my story.
I HAVE a story!  

I have a story that bears witness to the power of God at work in the ones who believe in the Risen Christ.

All the people saw him walking and praising God, and they recognized him as the one who used to sit and ask for alms at the Beautiful Gate of the temple; and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.

This man’s story would have been beautiful if one of the thousands of alms-givers before had uttered a prayer that God honored by healing him.    

Or if God had answered one of the many prayers his mother must have prayed over her child.

His story would have been beautiful if he had met and been healed by Jesus on one of the many trips He and the disciples made to the temple.

This man’s story is beautiful – not because of the gate near which he was healed – but because of the grace by which he was healed.

Peter and John saw him, spoke to him, touched him, healed him, and entered the temple alongside him, just as Jesus had done with so many others, so many times before. It was a beautiful thing.  

Then the beauty of this man’s heart was revealed in his worship, in his joyful praises.  

There are beautiful things, beautiful people, beautiful lives, all around us. And even inside each of us. The world would tell us not to look too closely for them, at least not out there at the edges, in those places where we toss broken relationships, where we lump together the hurting and the misunderstood, the situations and people that frighten us or threaten our comfort

The world would tell us that nothing can be done. Well… toss them a few scraps, perhaps, give them a few glances, a mumbled prayer.

Peter and John’s actions were so much more. They offered a tangible manifestation of God’s power
to make broken things whole,
to turn isolation into community,
to make visible those who are overlooked,
to make beautiful those things humanity would ignore or toss aside.

If we are to be witnesses in our Jerusalem, we must be willing to do likewise.

We must be open to the power of the Holy Spirit to send us,
We must be open to the power of the Holy Spirit to speak healing words through us,
We must be open to the power of the Holy Spirit to heal the ways we are lame and to resurrect our passions, hopes and dreams.
We must be open to the power of the Holy Spirit to bring unexpected people through our doors.
We must be open to the power of the Holy Spirit to open our eyes, our arms, and our hearts to truly welcome them.

You will receive power, Jesus said.
And you will be my witnesses.  

Why?  

Because beautiful things, beautiful people, a beautiful city and world await.