June 12, 2025
  
Happy is everyone who fears the Lord,
    who walks in his ways.
You shall eat the fruit of the labor of your hands; you shall be happy, and it shall go well with you.
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine
 within your house;

your children will be like olive shoots
    around your table.
Thus shall the man be blessed
    who fears the Lord.
Psalm 128:1-4
 
 
“Is it your day off?” Most days, I’m up and ready and off to work before our youngest son wakes up. But some days, he wakes up in the middle of my morning routine and comes and finds me, and this is always his first question. Most of the time, my answer has to be no. When that’s the case, I have to explain the importance of my job and when I will come home and when we will have a day to spend together. The amount of time and the quality of that time with our children matters a great deal.
 
While family structures differ and jobs that require travel or time overseas take parents away from their children, the average American residential dad (a dad that lives in the home full-time) is 7.5 hours per week. For many of us, a 7.5 hour workday feels rushed. The tasks that we need to complete barely fit into that much time. And yet, that’s the amount of time we have in a whole week to pour our love, nurture, and guidance into our children, if we fall into that average.
 
If you travel in the Middle East, you’re sure to encounter olive trees. Some of those trees, including the ones in the garden of Gethsemane, may be over 2,000 years old. They are resilient and strong and fruitful. However, the scripture above refers to olive shoots, not trees. In other words, young seedlings that require deliberate care and careful nurture. That’s what our children’s require.
 
One of the duties that are boys take great joy, and is caring for their grandfather‘s garden when he travels. Every gardener knows that you can’t neglect a garden for more than a day or two. The plants need watering, pruning, and picking during the harvest season. The comparison in the verse above teaches the important lesson that our children deserve no less. Olive trees, the olives they produce, and the olive oil that comes from the olives is valued all over the world. The dedication and nurture required to raise an olive plant to being an olive tree is the work of faithful gardeners, and many generations. The calling God places on us is the care and nurture of our children and every child in our community, fathers, grandfathers, and everyone in the faith family.
 
Half of our mission team next week is adults who have carved out this important time for our children. Some of them are parents and some grandparents and some have just taken the responsibility as parental figures in the extended faith family. As Father’s Day approaches this Sunday, may everyone who fathers be reminded of this important task and encouraged in their work. Because the time away from our jobs should be well spent in the garden of tending to our children.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, make me aware of all the children in my life entrusted to and in need of my care, and help me to prioritize quality time with them. Amen.
 
June 5, 2025 
 
But wanting to vindicate himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
 
[Luke 10:30-35 - The Good Samaritan]
 
“Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
Luke 10:29, 36-37
 
My family and I moved back to NC last summer, just before the start of the school year. Our house was still full of unpacked boxes when we got a knock at the door one day. Our neighbor was standing there with her grandson. She explained that her grandson was special needs and his friend’s family had rented our house previously. He didn’t quite understand that his friend had moved away, and she thought it would be helpful to show him a new family was now living there, and to give us a heads up if he wandered down to knock on our door. It was a wonderful introduction.
 
The young man came in, looked around our living room and kitchen, processing the new layout, new furniture, and our cats. We told his grandmother we’d get in touch if he ever made his way down the street to us. And in that interaction, we became neighbors, not just folks who lived on the same street. While we have lived many places as a family, we have not always known all our neighbors, though we’ve tried to form those relationships. Anyone can live next door, but being a neighbor requires an introduction, a relationship, and an ongoing exchange.
 
While the man who questions Jesus asks him to define a neighbor, and can’t bring himself to identify the Samaritan by that title (his own racial bias may have made him reticent to say it), he does refer to him as the one who showed mercy. What if we really did define neighbor that way? What if everyone in need of our mercy was a neighbor? What if we thought of neighboring countries and the people of the world who yearn for mercy as our neighbor and responsibility? What if we extended a warm welcome to everyone who wanders, looking for a friend?
 
It would be easy to ignore a knock at the door of our house, our neighborhood or nation and say, “I don’t know you.” But Christ calls us to answer the door, whether they are a family displaced by a hurricane, a wildfire, violence and poverty in their home country, a victim of highway robbery, or a little boy who misses his friend. Who is knocking at the door? How will we answer? And will it be with mercy?
 
Prayer
 
Lord, help me to respond to every knock upon the door to my heart, home, church, community, and nation with
 
 
May 27,  2025 
 
Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.
Proverbs 16:24
 
Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer everyone.
Colossians 4:6
 
How do you spend your paint? One of the most curious and beautiful trends in art was during the Impressionist period. There are a significant number of paintings that depict other artists painting. The rough modern equivalent might be taking a picture of your friend snapping the perfect photo for Instagram. Except… a painter friend once told me, oil paint is and was quite an expensive medium. Committing such a scene to canvas was imbuing a certain value on the subject and their activity. To paint a fellow artist in the midst of their craft was an act of remembrance, fascination, or even a token of affection, like a song or poem written for a friend or romantic interest.
 
The books of wisdom literature and poetry are full of observation, praise, and lament. Our scriptures are full of the sort of focus that fill impressionist paintings. And the words that fill our Bible had to be committed to memory or paper, both costly mediums in ancient times. What orators, storytellers, teachers, writers chose to remember or record showed what they valued. And what we choose to capture in our phones, posts, journals, songs, poems, and visual art shows what’s important to us as well. The words and artistic expression we share or preserve shows the world and the future what matters to us. How do we spend our paint?
 
The Old and New Testament contain myriad verses that prescribe encouraging language and actions. The Spirit gives counsel to lend or craft our creative expression for encouragement, accountability, and praise. The most expensive tools we have are our words and art and time, and our canvases are more vast with access to the digital world. Each day, we have opportunities to paint those canvases vividly, to share our impressions. How we choose to spend our paint is significant. Will we choose to be hateful, vitriolic, incendiary, and spiteful? Or will we choose to hold our friends and leaders accountable to justice and mercy, to advocate goodness and compassion, encourage care for creation, bind the wounded, inspire the oppressed, kindle reconciliation, and draw attention to our creative friends who are spending their paint in beautiful ways that we admire?
 
Prayer
 
Lord, help me to spend my paint on what is lovely, praiseworthy, urgent, and inspiring. Amen
 
 
May 19,  2025 
 
He said, “Go out and stand on the mountain before the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind, and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake, and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire, and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. Then there came a voice to him that said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
I Kings 9:11-13
 
“Stop. Shh. Shh.” My wife and I stopped in the grocery aisle and focused on the five year old. With urgency he said, “You can hear your heart when you stop talking.” The story from I Kings is about a prophet who was seeking God. While he expected God to show up in the mighty wind or the earthquake or the fire, God came in the silence. When we stop speaking, then… we can hear.
 
More often than not, we lead loud and busy lives in a loud and busy world. Even when we set aside to pray, in worship, at meal times, or at bedtime, we frame it mentally as a moment to speak to God… and rarely to listen. If prayer is a conversation with God, we must be prepared to listen. If prayer can change the world, it is most likely to change us first. The music of the prelude and the offertory in worship are opportunities to listen and invite God to speak and change our hearts.
 
Children are exploring and making discoveries every moment of their young lives. As adults, we are less open to such revelations. Children grab our attentions to share what is revealed to them. It’s worth asking how many times each week or day you carve out time to listen, especially for God to speak in still small ways, to allow God to enter or change your heart. And when we stop talking, we can hear what God puts there. Stop. Shhh. Can you hear?
 
Prayer
 
Lord, help me to open my heart in prayer, to be still, to speak, and to listen well. Amen
 
 
May 13,  2025 
 
Pray all the time!
I Thessalonians 5:17
 
Paper prayer-planes. Yup. This past week, while my serious adult reflection was hitting your emails, I was in the sanctuary having not-even-slightly-serious chapel time with back to back preschool classes. Their energy and curiosity is overwhelming and welcome as the scent of dark roast in a coffee shop. My colleague and friend who has just retired as our children’s educator had the practice of asking the kids to share joys and worries in their closing prayer time. So I read the passage above and asked them to repeat after me… “Pray all the time!” Unlike adults, I didn’t have to tell them to use an exclamation mark. It’s instinct for them.
 
Then I invited them forward to tables covered in paper and crayons. I asked them to draw something that makes them happy or something they’re worried about. When they finished, they got a surprise - the teachers and I would help them fold these prayers into paper airplanes… paper prayer-planes, if you will. The commotion and joy that came over them was hard to contain. The teachers and I quickly folded them. Then we stood together atop the steps to the chancel. I told them that the joys we share and send to God make God happy. And the worries, God can keep safe for us. On the count of three we threw them to God.
 
They all asked if they could keep their prayer-planes. I said that was the best part. Whatever we share with God, we can also share with our parents and teachers. It was a wonderful reminder to me that we pray for one another so our joys can be multiplied and our worries can be shared and carried by our loved ones so we are never alone. We can trust God and others to carry and hold our prayers. And when we are ready, we can share a new joy or worry, fold it in prayer, stand in God’s house, and let it fly.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, take my prayer, folded with care, and sent with hope. All the time. Amen.
 
May 5, 2025 
 
A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?”
John 4:7-9
 
On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple courts and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, “Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’”
 
The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching.
Mark 11:15-18
 
I came across a video this week. Someone was taking their mother to the Rosa Parks museum. I stopped scrolling to watch because Rosa Parks spoke at my middle school as a child and I’ve always taken an interest in her story and influence. The older woman in the video rounded the corner and saw a picture on the wall. It was a black and white photo of young people at a lunch counter. Someone was pouring an entire shaker of sugar onto the pony-tailed head of a young woman sitting on the stool. This older woman recognized herself and this moment from the Civil Rights movement. “I guess he didn’t think I was sweet enough,” she said.
 
For many, the Civil Rights era seems far removed in time and place, and well-settled. It’s a topic for museums and a few lessons in school. And yet, Rosa Parks spoke at my school. This woman was there to be abused by bigots as she participated in a sit-in. The high school down the road from my office still has two cafeterias because it was segregated when it was built, and people my parents’ age attended when that separation was enforced. That history is not just recent, but relevant. And as history texts are scrubbed to avoid offensiveness or tarnish the patriotism of our students, museums are edited, sanitized, and censored, we have to ask ourselves uncomfortable questions.
 
Some people wonder what they would have done in “those times,” as if Civil Rights are not threatened and bigotry, slavery, human trafficking, and apartheid are left in the past instead of present realities. Those things exist today. And it is worth noting that far more photographs are taken each day now than in the decades past in black and white. If museums are still allowed to exist, and they hang our photos for display for us to recognize ourselves, will we be sitting on stools or the sidelines? We follow a savior who sat in spaces meant for “others,” who entered exclusive places and tuned over tables of division and exploitation and injustice. When our children and grandchildren ask us what we did amidst the injustice of our time, what will we tell them we said and did?
 
Prayer
 
Lord, make me intolerant of injustice, unwilling to accept exploitation, and infuriated by suffering. Send me to walk, sit, stand, speak, work for, and demand a world of equality and freedom. Amen.
 
 
Last week, I preached on Radical Hospitality (14:30)… Click here for the sermon. 
 
 
April 30, 2025 
 
These commandments of mine are to be in your heart. Speak them to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are walking on the road, when you are lying down and when you are getting up.
Deuteronomy 6:6-9
 
“What about the babies?” Each night, our bedtime routine includes reading a book or two or several, a check in about the day, and we end with prayers. We pray for various family members by name or honorific (nanas and papas, etc.), for our pastors and teachers and leaders, and finally, our friends and new named prayer concerns. Most of the end of the list is babies who have recently been born or are expected, especially if they have special concerns. It’s probably our son’s favorite part. And sometimes, he races ahead to get to it. So in the middle of praying for our teachers, he exclaimed, “what about the babies?!”
 
We are fortunate to have so many people in our lives, extended family, and faith family who are welcoming new children that they are the exciting focus much of the time. The Massai people of northern Kenya traditionally greet each other with the words, “Kasserian Ingera!” (How are the children?) They emphasize the priority of care and concern for the children of their community. Their children are not just their future, but their present focus. I’m grateful that in our family of faith, this includes not just our members, but the children of our daycare and preschool, and our partner Title 1 elementary school, Montclaire.
 
The national news can be discouraging with the decimation of organizations built to nurture our children, educate them, protect their rights, and provide them healthcare. School violence is rampant. Our teachers are criminally underpaid. And yet, if we listen to the prayers of children, the wisdom of scripture and our ancestors, we center, lift up, nurture, guide, and love them. We rush ahead in our lists of concerns and joys to the good part, and ask ourselves every night, “what about the babies?”
 
Prayer
 
Lord, put my children and the children of my community, nation, and world to the center focus of my heart, the forefront of my mind, and the priority of my actions. Amen.
 
 
April 24, 2025 
 
In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.
Mark 1:35

 

Recently, on a Saturday, I was in the midst of various projects and down time, recuperating from a long week, but trying to be productive in short bursts. My youngest son was playing happily, and coming over to see my projects. I was changing lightbulbs, hanging pictures. He loves to help. At one point, I walked upstairs. He followed. He asked what I was doing. I said honestly, “I’m not doing anything.” And he responded, “I don’t wanna do anything either. I just want to be near you.”
 
Lent, and our season of intentionally drawing closer to God in spiritual practices has concluded. Last Sunday was Easter. Like Christmas, it’s my favorite. The pews and chancel are full. People come home, bring family and friends. Visitors are curious and find their way for the first time. Old friends surprise me with visits. The music is always incredible and the message is inspiring. People draw near because we are doing something new… or familiar. Or both. But what about the Sunday after Christmas and Easter? The Sunday after Easter is often called “Low Sunday” in church circles. The attendance drops off from the previous week as we head into summer. But what if we were more like my son?
 
What if we had the kind of relationship with God, with faith, that engenders curiosity and closeness? What if we long to see the ordinary, to learn, to grow, to be near? Scripture describes God walking in the garden, seeking Adam and Eve. Jesus found time alone with God to pray. The late Pope Francis said that prayer, our time coming close to God, could not be reduced to a Sunday activity. He said, “prayer is needed! Prayer that is courageous, struggling and persevering, not prayer that is a mere formality.” Our prayer and faith life must be the kind that draws us close to God, even on the Sundays and Mondays after Easter. I hope you’ll be in the house of the Lord this Sunday, wherever you are. I’ll be there, reading the word, singing the songs, and praying, “Lord, I just want to be near you.”
 
Prayer
 
Lord, I want to be near you, to see what you’re up to, to learn, and to be loved. Amen.
Reflection part 3 of 3

April 14, 2025 

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him, andthey doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore, as you go, make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:16-20
 
 
 
If you’ve been reading this reflection piece the last two weeks, welcome to week three of three in my first and only series. This week, I want to focus on one of my favorite verses that opened up to me in new ways when I learned Greek. The picture you’ll see above is what is called “interlinear translation,” which you can get in book form or online. You’ll see each word is translated and parsed individually, followed by a faithful interpretation of the words as a full sentence or verse. But you’ll notice that I’ve underlined some of my own English words above. They may sound different than what you’ve heard all your life. They should.
 
First of all, you may have heard this verse, the Great Commission, it’s commonly called, “Go therefore.” And yet, the “go” isn’t a command form in the original Greek. It’s better translated, “as you go,” and the commands being making disciples, baptizing, and teaching. In other words, the Church cannot be the Church, unless it is on the go to the world and all in need. I love that. It deepens my understanding of what it means to be Church. But it gets better.
 
Next, almost every English translation of this passage from NIV to NRSV, King James, and more, will use some version of the phrase, “they worshipped him, but some doubted.” Go look. First, the word in Greek is ДЕ/de, which can be translated as “and/but/yet,” which is rather flexible and depends on context. And better yet, where is the word, “some?” Anyone? It’s not in the Greek. Early Bible translators used it to make the sentence make sense to them and people kept it mostly out of translation. And yet (see what I did there?), without it… the Disciples are no longer divided between those who worshipped and those who doubted. Now, they’re a group worshipping and wrestling with their doubts… simultaneously. The people who witnessed the life, miracles, teachings, friendship, crucifixion, and resurrection of Christ… had doubts… but/and/yet worshipped.
 
I take great comfort and inspiration in this verse. I share it with youth, Confirmands, adult Sunday school and Bible Studies, and strangers who have long been away from church with their questions, doubts, and hurt. Powerfully, this revelation brings the same deep solace to most of the people who gain this insight. If people who literally witnessed the resurrection can have doubts and questions and still worship, then those of us two thousand years later who never got to see these miraculous events are in good company, entitled to our questions, doubts, and amazement. And we can still worship.
 
Sometimes, the Hebrew and Greek give me nuance or something to ponder. But this verse is a go-to for me personally and in sharing the goodness of all of scripture and God’s deep empathy in the incarnation. I hope that this Lent, you’ve found new tools and practices for drawing closer to God and faith community. I hope this verse and these tools might be a part of that as we head into Holy Week. Blessings on the journey.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, in the midst of my times of doubt, help me to question, wonder, and worship. Amen.
 
Reflection part 2 of 3

April 6, 2025 

I can do all things through God who strengthens me.
Philippians 4:13
 
The customer is always right! Ever heard that? Most people take that to mean that those who serve customers should be as helpful as humanly possible and willingly receive debasing or humiliating behavior with backbreaking and unfailing courtesy and restraint. But the whole original quote is, “The customer is always right in matters of taste.” In other words, they can buy your ugly hat, commission an absurd birthday cake, or pick your least favorite logo or sign for their business. That’s their preference and their right to have. It does not excuse unreasonable requests or maltreatment of service people.
 
You can do anything you put your mind to. Just do it. You can be anything you want. I am the captain of my own soul. Anything you can do, I can do better. Whether in advertising or art, there are endless affirmations. Even scripture seems to double down - if God is for us, who can be against? (Romans 8:31) But that IF word matters, right? The number of times I’ve had leaders and aspiring young people quote Philippians 4:13 as their favorite verse is innumerable. And more often than not, it’s an athlete or top student, or a motivational speaker. And yet, Philippians is generally misunderstood apart from the IF in chapter 4, verse 13.
 
The context of the letter to the Philippians, is a letter in which the writer is encouraging seeking God’s call, God’s way. Early Christians were called, “Followers of the Way,” before they were ever called Christians. The writer’s whole letter would better be summarized as, “We can do all the things God calls us to do.” Given the context and condition that God is calling us to the effort we are undertaking, the verse is transformed from God standing beside us in all endeavors to God’s faithfulness to us when we obediently follow God. As Abraham Lincoln famously said, “Sir, my concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God's side, for God is always right.” And it’s far more challenging to seek the calling of God than to do our very best with confidence God approves and assists us with our every human endeavor. Young people and adults who understand that, seek God’s call, rather than God’s approval, and that verse becomes a challenge to seek people and causes over setting goals for personal gain. And God promises to go with us on that journey.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, allow me the humility to seek where and to what and who you’ve called me, rather than the confidence that you will follow me where I lead. Amen. 
Reflection part 1 of 3

March 31, 2025 

I can do all things through God who strengthens me.
Philippians 4:13
 
Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him, and they doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore, as you go, make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:16-20
 
What is the greatest gift you ever received that you no longer use? I pondered this question recently, and the most obvious example was my Confirmation Bible. I still have it on my shelf, and it is well-read and loved. I used it throughout my teen and college years, but it ground to a halt in my first summer of seminary. That was the summer I studied Hebrew for seven intensive weeks. Four hours of class every morning and four hours of homework and studying every night. Day one was the alphabet. Day two was a dozen vocabulary words. Day three was sentence translation.
 
I want to be clear, my old Bible is neither the least-accurate English translation, nor is it of no value. It’s fine. But my new studies revealed all translations to be lacking and that all translation was some form of interpretation, which I believe was the main intention of my professors. My studies revealed the difficulty of faithful translation work, and how important it is to study it, challenge it, and do it together with others. After a summer of crossing out whole sentences and paragraphs to write more nuanced or faithful translations in the margins, I adopted a new couple of versions I preferred.
 
As a result of my studies of both language and historical context, some of my favorite verses soured and some sweetened or deepened. And some just gained new meaning. I chose two above. I’ve found in my years of teaching, translating, and providing context that people grow less fond of the first when they learn about it and more fond of the second. They find both more challenging. While it’s a departure for me to do a devotional in parts, I’ll speak more about these two verses next week.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, your Spirit, help me to develop a desire to read seeking context, meaning, and greater understanding. Amen.
 
 
March 25, 2025 
 
“Therefore, as you go, make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
Matthew 28:19-20
 
“Remember?” We took our youngest for a kindergarten tour of the school he will attend in the fall. As the tour began with the school counselor, he slipped his hand in mine and squeezed it three times… I… love… you. It’s something we do often on walks. He looked up and said, “Remember? Three squeezes is I - love - you.” I squeezed back. He was ready for the tour.
 
In moments of transition, reassurance and presence are love incarnate. A new city or job, or leaving an old one. Friends often help us move or move on, not because they’re the best movers, but because the physical presence of someone we love is a demonstration and reminder of our relationship. Next week, we will celebrate baptisms and confirmation in the worship services. The parents and mentors of our youth will stand with them. And a few weeks later on Mother’s Day, parents will stand with their seniors and wrap them in a blanket from their church. They will be reminded that even when they go far, we are with them.
 
It is important to be intentional at moments of transition with those we love, to stand at the threshold of something new and be reminded we are never alone. God reminds us in what we call incarnational ways - bodily showing up. When we move a child into a dorm or sleep-away camp, a parent into a care facility, our family to a new city, or we attend a new church, we are showing up physically, spiritually, relationally. Jesus was physically present with the disciples, eating with them, holding them in grief, washing their feet, and when Peter began sinking below the waves… he held his hand. And maybe, just maybe, he gave it a couple of squeezes.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, help me to show up for those I love when they take steps into something new and to offer my hand where it’s needed. Amen.
 
 
March 17, 2025 
 
When children were being brought to him in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought them, but Jesus said, “Let the children come to me, and do not stop them, for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” And he laid his hands on them and went on his way.
Matthew 19:13-15
 
My mother took our five year old to the annual St. Paddy’s parade. She never misses it. He wore his uniform - kilt, knee socks, Irish cable knit sweater, and cap. As expected, he danced and jigged the entire time, with all his little Irish heart. Parades are not adult activities. They’re for families, for children to watch or participate as marchers. Those are the two categories. But kids are not adults. Our son invented a third category of active parade participation, wandering out into the fray when the music moved him to dance with marchers who were a mixture of delighted, surprised, and confused.
 
And that’s where we find Jesus. The kingdom of God is a family gathering. And the adults, as usual, have divided the public events for Jesus into neat and orderly groups. And in the middle of grownup time, someone has brought these potentially disruptive children. They can’t conceive of a third category - or even more. So they rebuke the adults who brought these children… only to have Jesus pause the proceedings to celebrate the children, hold them up as an example, and make them the focus of his time, attention, and blessing.
 
It would be easy to get caught up in the logistics of a large parade. There are permits and police, organizers and officials, a roster and plan, schedules and standby first responders. And yet, the purpose of a parade is celebration, and no one does that better than children. The purpose of the kingdom Jesus is proclaiming is a family of the children of God. Children exemplify the wonder, love, and sibling inclusion Jesus has been trying to explain to the adults. For our Lord, little ones are not a distraction, but the illustration and example we all need.
 
Children don’t just cheer us on, they dance with us in our joy, interrupting our plans, and reminding us of our purpose. I’m glad parades happen, even in the midst of Lent, because children remind us that our traditions and rituals are meant to connect us and remind us we are beloved children of a God who dances with us as we draw close. This season, make your spiritual practices ones that nudge you off the curb and into the fray to confuse, to surprise, and to delight the world. The kilt is optional. The child-like joy is necessary.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, set my gaze to wonder, my heart to spontaneity, and my feet in motion to practice my faith with childlike enthusiasm. Amen.
 
 
March 10, 2025 
 
“Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart. Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise.”
Deuteronomy 6:4-7
 
Yesterday, we celebrated communion in worship. At our church, we alternate between coming forward for intinction and passing the trays with the little bread squares and tiny cups. Kids love tiny cups. Our five year old patiently waited to eat his bread and sip his cup once everyone was served. We got home, and my wife was relating the story, telling me he wasn’t sure about the bread but she insisted he had to have the bread to get the juice. He interjected, “Why don’t we have those at home.” And trying to be a good dad and pastor, I explained, “It’s a special meal to remind us of Jesus.” He was thoughtful and then insisted, “But I remember Jesus everywhere.”
 
The words on many communion tables, plates and chalices, and etched in our memories are some form of, “Do this in remembrance of me.” The rituals we practice and the religions we adhere to are the reminders of what’s important in our faith. For the most part, we adults, do our remembering in the church building or on Sundays. And yet, our children, whom we are encouraged to be like, color their faith well outside the lines of a weekly place and time. So maybe our Lenten practices can be more childlike.
 
What is it that distracts you from daily attending to your faith that you might be giving up? What holy practices or disciplines might you be taking on? And how can a more childlike approach inform those questions? Do you struggle to give people or your kids your full attention when the TV is on? Have some days or evenings when it’s off each week. Do you spend long practices and games on your device instead of watching your kiddo or talking to other parents? Maybe you put it out of reach each time you’re with people or silence it in the coming weeks, especially when you sit with others. Do you get distracted during worship or neglect to make a plan to stream it or attend somewhere new when you travel? Take notes and mark your calendar, or do a little planning before your trips.
 
This Lent, look for ways that your faith life can be attended to everywhere you go. If you give up social media, don’t replace it with TikTok, but with quality time with someone you love. Instead of just limiting screen time, replace it with writing notes or letters of encouragement to people you love and miss and need to be checked in on. Put your AirPods away, notice strangers and neighbors, and be present. Invite someone to lunch who feeds your soul or needs to be fed. Faith and its nurture are not just for Sundays. In this Holy season, we are called to imagine it more fully. We are called to remember Jesus everywhere.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, help me to remember you everyday and everywhere through a more childlike faith, giving up and taking on faith that happens everywhere. Amen.
 
 
March 3, 2025 
 
What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray?
Matthew 8:12
 
Five years ago, I was on parental leave for the birth of our youngest. He had to spend a little time in the NICU, so we were in the hospital for the start of Lent, and it was the first time I’d be missing an Ash Wednesday service since before I began my ministry. But the hospital chaplain and I had several mutual clergy friends and he came looking for me. He offered me the sign of the cross in ashes on my forehead and then went with me to do the same for my wife. It was a wonderful connecting moment for us that the Church in the world came and found us when we weren’t in the midst of it.
 
In many ways, that’s the powerful reminder in the ancient custom of Ash Wednesday. We take the mark of the cross on our forehead or hand as a reminder of our mortality - from dust we have come and shall return. And ashes have long been a sign of penitence - turning from our mistakes and shortcomings and toward God. But the reminder in the symbol of the cross is that when we are far from God, God comes to us and God forgives us and offers us grace, redemption, and new life.
 
Ash Wednesday, the day that begins the 40 day season of Lent preparing for Easter is unmarked or unfamiliar to many outside the faith and even to many believers. It can seem quite depressing or morbid to be reminded of our failings and our mortality. And yet, the cross is the symbol that reminds us that death is not the final word. God has sought us, found us, marked us God’s, redeemed us, and called us to new life. What I was reminded of in that hospital was that ultimately, my family and I were in the hands of grace. I hope we will see you on Ash Wednesday at our worship service or in the morning in the columbarium for imposition of ashes. And I hope you’ll find someone lost this Lent and offer them the grace we share.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, when I wander, come find me, call me, remind me I’m yours, and send me in grace. Amen.
 
 
 
February 25, 2025
 
Let no one despise your youth, but set the believers an example in speech and conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.
I Timothy 4:12
 
At youth group this week, before we took quizzes about their spiritual gifts and personality types, I posed various questions to the students about their preferences and what-if scenarios. A different corner of the room represented each choice - breakfast, lunch, dinner or dessert; play a pro sport, coach one, be a commentator, or a fan with season tickets? One of the most interesting… Would they want to plant a church, be on staff at a church, attend just one church for the rest of their lives, or visit many churches for a job? I was surprised several were adamant that they would gladly plant a church - that’s hard work. But the biggest group - attend one church for the rest of their lives. In fact, they were enthusiastic about their answer.
 
Why was I surprised? First of all, they’re teens. Most of their answers revolve around maximum variety. They were evenly divided between breakfast, lunch, and dinner and each one of them gave the same reason: they deemed their meal the one with the widest variety of options. Secondly, for most of these kids, they’ve only attended one church. And their experience of our church or Church as a concept is positive enough that they’d be happy to have just one church - ours or some potential unknown church. These kids, with a variety of gifts and interests across ages, genders, personality types, and interests, from those who prefer math and science to art and theater and athletics, they felt welcomed and loved in faith community.
 
It’s hard not to be discouraged each day by the news of the world. There’s enough war and violence, poverty and greed, cruelty and division to make one feel helpless and hopeless. It would be easy to feel like nothing we can do alone or with any small group can bring hope and light. It would be easy to listen to the grownups on the news and become apathetic or desperate. But if you spend time with kids, kids who have been loved and encouraged to find and use their gifts, to dream and to hope and imagine… well, those kids will give you hope. They will imagine a world where their faith community is worth committing to for a lifetime. I don’t know about you, but I want to be a part of the churches they plant, the churches they staff, and the churches they join. This Sunday will be youth Sunday, where they preach and lead music and worship. I hope you’ll be there or stream it. They’re leading. Come see.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, surround me with young people. As I support them, give them opportunities to teach and lead, inspire me through their words and work. Amen.
 
 
February 19, 2025
 
Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the person in charge of the banquet.” So they took it. When the person in charge tasted the water that had become wine and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), that person called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.”
John 2:7-10
 
In the story of what was probably his first miracle, Jesus turns water to wine. The water is being stored in ceremonial stone jars. Water would have been stored in them for ritual purification. It’s a small detail, but to turn that special water into wine meant the jars were re-purposed from holding ceremonial water to holding fine wine. They were transformed from an ordinary purpose to a miraculous one. It reminds me of the Three Trees story I read to my son so often. The three trees on a hillside dream of grand futures - one as chest that holds treasure, one as a mighty sailing ship, and one as the tallest tree pointing to heaven.
 
If you’ve read the story, they are each surprised. You know the first is made into a feed box for animals, smelly and ordinary. The second, into a fishing boat with similar woes. And the third is chopped down and thrown into a lumber pile. But then… the first tree has a baby placed into it and realizes he is holding the greatest treasure, the second carries several men in a storm and one man silences the wind and waves, and the third is yanked from the pile, fashioned into a cross, and carried by a man to a hill. And that third tree knew when people saw him, they would always think of God’s glory and love. So what are our dreams? And how is God surprising us?
 
Are our Sunday school classrooms transformed to housing our homeless siblings? Are our work skills for home building, teaching, medicine, law, or finance being turned into shower trailers, tutoring, medical mission, immigration assistance, and stewardship of church resources? In what ways are the campuses of our churches, our callings, our children, and our homes being transformed from ordinary dreams into extraordinary, miraculous purpose?
 
The trees, and perhaps the jars, had to face initial disappointment before it was revealed that God intended them for miracles. Scripture tells the story of people who God creates for and leads to miracles. Our openness and patience, our prayers and encouragement as God’s people in community can reveal new purpose for our resources, our talents, our time, and our lives. Where are we being called in this moment? How will God surprise us?
 
Prayer
 
Lord, surprise me. Show up and transform the ordinary to extraordinary and call us to the miraculous. Amen.
 
February 11, 2025
 
Why were you searching for me?” Jesus asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he was saying to them.
Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and humankind.
Luke 2:49-52
 
 
“I know my ABCs now. I don’t have to practice any more.” I smirked at this proclamation from youngest son. I told him that we have to keep practicing letters so then he can learn words and then read whole books. “Why?” he asked me incredulously. I told we all have to keep learning so we can keep growing. “But daddy, you can’t grow any more. You’re all done. You can’t get bigger.” Oh no, I explained. I can still grow in my mind, in knowledge, and wisdom and experiences.
 
I thought back to this conversation as I listened to a news report on the radio about churches that were worried about division and purpose. One man said, “we have to grow!” A congregation which concerns itself with a measurement of membership, over or to the detriment or exclusion of spiritual growth is in decline. In this scripture in Luke, Jesus goes home to grow in wisdom and stature. Wisdom is the priority. In scripture, the times that it mentions God adding to their numbers primarily come as a result of the teaching and preaching and the care and love God’s people show in serving one another.
 
It became clear as I listened to the radio story that the reporter was not churched. And that’s fine, but to an outsider or someone young in the faith (like my son), it’s tempting to measure growth only by size or stature, rather than wisdom and maturity. As you think about your spirituality or the vitality of your faith community, have you grown? What would that look like? For Jesus, it was deepening understanding of the scriptures, the prophets, storytelling, and the skills of his ministry. Perhaps, those would serves us well too. And of course, we can never stop practicing or growing.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, help me keep practicing and growing, in wisdom and in stature. Amen.
 
February 4, 2025
 
he Lord is near to all who call on the Lord, to all who call on the Lord in truth.
Psalm 145:18-19
 
We acquired a secondhand Power Wheel Jurassic Park Jeep for our youngest. It was well-loved and the battery life was nil, so we went to work. We replaced the battery, painted it, added lights, a “spare tire,” and even a walkie-talkie radio. The radio is perhaps his favorite part. He uses it every time he drives the Jeep. And 98% of what he says is, “Daddy! I love you!” And then he giggles and smiles and signs off to do circles and figure eights in the yard.
 
Given the opportunity to communicate, by speech, sign language, writing, or as you’re reading my typed words here… do we use the opportunity primarily for love? Some? Any of it? He doesn’t use his radio to ask questions or express road rage. I’m sure he will eventually do some of that in his life. We all have our moments. But for now, his new tool to talk directly to me from a distance is for expressing his love. And… he knows I’ll say it back.
 
The scripture reminds us that God hears us. We can call out our love in prayer. And just as importantly, God always calls back in love. My little one is confident I will always respond to his love with mine. And we can be too. How are we using our prayers? Our lives? Our free time? Last night, I stopped by our weekly evening program where we host unhoused guests for the night in the winter. Half a dozen families with their young children, all 5 to 10 years old had just served dinner and were playing and laughing and running around the fellowship hall. In every shriek was an audible, “I love you.” And if God was in the faces of each parent and guest, “There was an, ‘I love you too.’”
 
Prayer
 
Lord, I love you. And I need to hear it today too. Send me to love with my life. Amen.
 
January 27, 2025
 
Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.
Isaiah 58:12
 
“Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”
Luke 10:36-37
 
“Are you from California?” I realized the woman serving samples of BBQ chicken was looking at my Republic of California grizzly bear hoodie. “No,” I responded. “I’ve just been through San Diego a lot on the way to mission trips in the Baja. Are you from California?” She nodded. Her eyes were misty. “Do you have people there?” She nodded again. She began telling me about her sons, her extended family, the devastation, how California has changed so much in recent years. I didn’t know how best to comfort her. I just said, “sounds like everyone is doing their best to help.” She agreed. “And everyone here is so kind. I love living here.” Following her daughter to NC had made her my neighbor. But her heart and home were with the people in peril in her home state.
 
Scripture tells us that our identity is bound up in the places we make our homes, and in building and rebuilding efforts when calamity comes to our communities. People are at their most vulnerable when they lose their homes. The opportunity and necessity for restoration and rescue is a prophetic calling and deeply faithful purpose. When we extend ourselves in compassion and generosity, we become the hands and feet of the God we serve. We confirm our identity as repairers of the breach, restorers of what’s lost, bearers of dignity and worth.
 
In my last call, I had a volunteer role as chaplain with the fire department. One of the duties I filled was to connect families who suffered a home loss to fire with resources for recovery, such as my church, the school system and its administrators, teachers, and counselors, and non-profit crisis assistance like the Red Cross. I was a bridge between people reeling from personal tragedy and people moved to humbling and overwhelming generosity of spirit. Faith communities are at their best when responding to deep need with their time and treasure and homes. In the coming months, we will be called upon to be stewards of our personal and national resources in response to people fleeing fires, floods, persecution, war, and poverty. And we will have to decide if we are truly builders and repairers, brothers and sisters to all in need, or if we find our identity in the smallness of only what is right in front of us.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, make me a neighbor to all in need. Amen.
 
January 21, 2025
 
Your servant has killed both the lion and the bear; this uncircumcised Philistine will be like one of them, because he has defied the armies of the living God. The Lord who rescued me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will rescue me from the hand of this Philistine.”
Saul said to David, “Go, and the Lord be with you.”
I Samuel 17:36-37
 
Like many kids, I grew up feeling as at home in my church hallways, classrooms, kitchen, and youth and scout spaces as my own house. This can be especially true for kids of us pastors. Our boys love coming to church and to my office. This week, while waiting for our oldest to return from a camping trip, the youngest roamed the hallways of our campus with his lightsaber, searching for bad guys and ghosts. At one point, he faced a particularly challenging foe. I offered my help, and adamantly, he declined. “God is my backup.”
 
I don’t know if this answer was prompted by his surroundings, but I was struck by his enthusiasm and confidence. It is our hope that his faith community instills in him a courageous hope and trust that God is always with him, by his side, helping to do what is right, calling him to who and where he’s needed with his gifts. When we read to our children, we instill a lifelong habit and a gift that unlocks learning in every class, course, and career they pursue. When we gather in the kitchen or for family dinner, involve them in preparing meals and choosing healthy foods, we instill a love for food, family, and fellowship. And when we bring them to the Lord’s house to sing, to learn, to be nurtured, and to serve others in need, we teach them to be stewards of God’s gifts, and sure of God’s promises.
 
GK Chesterton is famous for observing that children don’t need to be told that dragons exist because they already believe this, but that they must be told they can be vanquished. Children learn quickly of that darkness and difficulty of the world we make for them. It is important that we provide them brave spaces that teach them they are never alone, that they can and must do mighty things, rescue the vulnerable, and do what is just. And they -and we- must believe that God is our backup.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, send me to face the challenges of the world with the certainty of faith that you are with me when I go where you call. Amen.
 
 
January 15, 2025
 
But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
Amos 5:24
 
“Wanna meet some new friends at church?” My four year old’s eyes lit up. “Yes! Who are they?!” I explained that some of our friends don’t have houses and when it’s cold, they need somewhere safe and warm to sleep, so we open up the church during the winter and they come stay overnight. We make them dinner and do laundry and give them beds and wash their feet. “Like when I get a bath?” I told him it was exactly like that.
 
So we headed to church and found our friends just after dinner. Some were watching TV and some were getting their feet washed. Some of the men told us jokes. And he laughed and ran laps around the room. At that, they laughed. There’s just something about the reckless abandon of a child in a Grinch sweatsuit racing around the room and stopping to tell incomplete knock knock jokes. I think it’s intimidating for most of us to find ways to engage in ministries of justice or introduce our children to serving others. And yet, there are so many opportunities in our communities and churches to do that, and to bring our children with us to learn.
 
My older boys have all had years of experience serving vulnerable people in need. They will never be afraid to roll up their sleeves and help. I hope that if you’ve never served a meal, stocked a food pantry, tutored a child, or washed someone’s feet, that you’ll come join us in that work, and you’ll bring your kids with you to do it. This weekend is the Martin Luther King Jr. observance, and I hope you’ll consider honoring his life’s work and legacy by finding worthy work to serve others and seek justice.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, help me to be a servant and example to the children in my life, with the eagerness children make friends. Amen.

 

January 8, 2025

 
 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
    from where will my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth.
Psalm 121:1-2
 
This Sunday during the children’s message, our Christian educator asked the children, “How do we see God?” She gives the children a great deal of confidence to respond and be creative, so there were immediate and overlapping answers. But the first answer to ring out was one little girl exclaiming, “Look up!” Others went on to say all around them and in other people. But the wonder and certainty from the first little girl took me by surprise. As a pastor in the world, a Scout, and a disciple of Fred Rogers, I’ve been trained to see God in every single person I meet, in the helpers, and in the nature that surrounds me.
 
However, it’s easy to forget that life is balance. God is indeed in creation and God’s created children. And… God is above. Both literally, in the mountains peaks and stars above, the created universe… and spiritually. The reminder of Christmas is that the God above, the creator and sustainer came down to earth to be with us, and a teacher and redeemer. God among us was constantly living and loving all around us and remains with us, but prayed and pointed to and glorified a God who was over all. A God above the principalities and powers, death and division, borders and barriers, pettiness and sin and brokenness.
 
We follow a God who came to this world and remains in it by the Spirit, but also a God above the troubles of this world who calls and empowers us and in whom we can wonder and take joy and trust in. It helps to encourage us to be able to look around and see God. But when the world around us lets us down or discourages us, with the faith and wonder of a child, we can always look up.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, help to look around and find you in the people and places of your created world, and when I become discouraged, to remember to look up. Amen.

 

December 30, 2024
 
I will write these final words of this letter with my own hand: if anyone does not love the Lord, that person is cursed. Lord Jesus, come! May the love and favor of the Lord Jesus Christ rest upon you. My love to all of you, for we all belong to Christ Jesus.
Sincerely, Paul”
I Corinthians 16:21-24
 
“Jesus is coming. Look busy!”
Anonymous
 
“He taught Sunday school about 30 times a year.” I drove to GA this week, the home state of former president Jimmy Carter. The whole trip down, across a half dozen NPR stations, I listened to news coverage and interviews with the President, his family, cabinet members, and historians. But of all the things I heard that I knew or learned about him, that one quote from his grandson struck me the most deeply. I’ve spent nearly two decades in church work, and a significant amount of my time and energy has spent recruiting and training teachers. I don’t believe I’ve ever recruited a teacher to spend that many weeks in a Sunday school class or small group, and Jimmy Carter did it for decades. In fact, he relished it more than anything else he got to do in his 100 years.
 
It is my biggest professional regret that I lived for eight years down the road from his home church in Plains, GA and never carved out the time to make the short pilgrimage to hear him teach one Sunday morning. It bears the same name as the Dominican church and mission group I’ve worked with for years - Maranatha. The name comes from an Aramaic word found in I Corinthians, and translates to “our Lord comes,” or an invitation, “Our Lord, come.” Carter had a deep faith that guided his private and public life of service. He believed that God was real and present in the world and intended to serve others with humility and faithfulness, promising always to be truthful and never to shy from anything controversial.
 
In the coming days, a lot will be said about the accomplishments and failures of our former president, but I’m certain they will all mention his faith, his service, and that he is universally acclaimed as our finest former president. In the lull that follows the busy holiday season, it’s worth reflecting on someone who lived a century as a man who spent every moment of his life in service to others and building the kingdom on earth that he imagined in heaven. We do well to draw inspiration from the peanut farmers of our world who seek leadership as an opportunity to serve and establish justice. If we truly believe the Lord is coming, we’ve got a lot of work to do.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, come. Dwell among us, comfort and challenge us, and send us to serve. Amen.

 

December 11, 2024
 
For thus says the Lord: Only when Babylon’s seventy years are completed will I visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me, says the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.
Jeremiah 29:10-14
 
“It’s. So. Haaaaard. To. Wait.” My youngest son said. Each word deliberate and groaned with emphasis. This was his response when he asked if it was Christmas Day and I told him it was still weeks away. We don’t even have a tree yet. He was right. I can’t imagine what it was like for Mary, waiting on Joseph’s reaction to her pregnancy, her family’s reaction to their unfolding plans. I can’t imagine Joseph’s own journey of trust, being asked into this arrangement. His anxiety at their sudden departure as refugees to the land that enslaved his people, to keep his young family safe, with no reliable hope for employment but the lowest jobs no Egyptian wanted had to be deeply discouraging.
 
I think often of the long journey of the Magi that probably ended in Egypt, much farther than they initially anticipated. I’ve traversed the Sinai peninsula between Israel and Cairo. It’s an absolute wasteland. It’s no wonder God’s people wandered 40 years. It had to be so hard to wait. It was 12 years before they saw him begin to delve into his calling and maybe another 10-15 beyond that before beginning his ministry. It was a long wait for Mary and Joseph and Elizabeth and John, and all their expectant relatives and friends.
 
And yet, the promise in Jeremiah is an even longer wait. Those people were being told it would be decades before they would see relief and generations before the coming of their savior. But the promise is not that God will one day be faithful. The promise is that God remains faithful in the waiting, present and compassionate, wise and loving, and makes plans with us and for us. Waiting is hard, but we don’t do it alone. I tried to reassure my son that I find waiting hard too. And that we will wait together by stringing lights, reading God’s word, and hearing the ancient stories each day until the day is here. “And God will be watching us?” he asked. “Yes, watching and waiting and with us, I told him.” And that was enough for him. And in sharing that good news, it was for me too.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, it’s hard to wait. Wait with me. Help me to share the goodness of what it means to prepare and plan and wait together with others who feel alone. Amen.
 
 
December 2, 2024
 
The Lord your God is with you, mighty to save. God will take great delight in you, quiet you with love, and will rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17
 
“I love you!” whispered the little one on the chancel steps. Our Director of Education for Children and Families didn’t hesitate - mid-sentence - to reply, “I love you too.” And then continued her children’s message last Sunday. The child had uttered the words with the urgency of any request for food or attention or a trip to the restroom. She was oblivious to the moment, the decorum, the focus, or a sanctuary full of adults and the crowd of children near the advent wreath. She had to express her love right then. And, thankfully, so did Miss Nancy.
 
How urgent is our love? In a season where we celebrate God coming into the world to be with us - Emmanuel means God with Us - we celebrate this urgent nature of God’s love for and among us. The angels interrupt the lives of Joseph and Mary in the midst of their engagement and life plans, amidst an arduous journey for the census. A host of them barge in on shepherds at work in the fields. The faithful magi interrupt the reign of Herod and the Roman Empire. “I love you,” whispers God - with urgency. And like the little one in our worship service, it’s an urgent invitation to hear and respond. Its importance overshadows the unfolding current events. It shifts the focus. It reminds us of priorities and relationships. It centers that love and the beloved.
 
It took me back to a concert years ago. A small child wandered up to the stage during my friend David’s performance. He paused mid-song to speak with the little one. He chuckled and said, “when someone under four feet asks for your attention, you drop whatever you’re doing. It’s a rule.” I never forgot it. Christmas is a holy interruption of urgent love that must be expressed, received, and returned. When a child interrupts the world with love, our hearts, minds, and souls must respond. This Advent, I encourage you to embrace the holy disruption of the Christ child and every child who bears wonder, curiosity, hope for connection, and the love that centers and redirects us. Maybe such interruptions reorient you to respond to such love with the same love that is offered in hope.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, make me receptive and responsive to urgent love with a full and ready heart. Amen.
 
November 28, 2024
 
Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.
I Peter 4:10
 
Keep my eyes to serve, my hands to learn
Mumford and Sons
 
One of my dearest friends from Colorado days makes her home between a few cities there. She visited a new church recently to worship with a friend. Many of the songs were unfamiliar to her. So, she didn’t know the tune, but the words were on the screen up front. In college, she studied American Sign Language. So, she told me, “I didn’t know the tune to sing, so I sang with my hands.”
 
Over and over, in recent weeks, I’ve heard people say how helpless they feel in the wake of hurricanes, school shootings, political upheaval, and war overseas. And yet, I’ve been inspired to see those same people gather relief supplies, learn about legislation and movements for positive change, pick up tools and build homes and showers, and get educated about conflict and peacemaking efforts. When the world feels overwhelming or unfamiliar, I’ve watched people respond with what they know, to sing with their hands.
 
This week, we will gather at table with the people we love and who have loved us, nurtured us, bestowed us with gifts and skills, and inspired us to our callings. We will give thanks for those people and gifts. It’s an opportunity to be reminded how God has given us the tools and wisdom to serve and help people in need. As we pause to reflect and thank God, we can be reminded we are equipped and called to a world in need. And when it feels like we are in unfamiliar territory, we are lost, hopeless, or ill-prepared, we can begin to sing with our hands.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, open my eyes, soften my heart, broaden my awareness, and unclench my hands to respond in faith with the gifts you’ve given me to sing into your world. Amen.

 

November 18, 2024
 
God will hear the cry of the poor and vulnerable, and one should not oppress them
Exodus 22:20-26
 
A portion of the harvest should be set aside for the poor and strangers
Leviticus 19:9-10
 
True worship is to care for the poor and oppressed, and to work for justice
Isaiah 58:5-7
 
The poor are blessed, and theirs is the kingdom of God
Luke 6:20-23
 
“Hey, Kevin.” Last weekend, I got to go back to one of my favorite places on earth, where I went to college in Chapel Hill. I’ve never been to a college reunion. However, my campus ministry, where I spent every single Thursday night for four years, hosted a reunion for everyone who’s ever been part of the campus ministry in the last several decades. At the Saturday afternoon, activities, and dinner and program that evening, I saw a lot of my old friends. Kevin was a Chapel Hill friend from 20 years ago. But Kevin wasn’t actually at that dinner.
 
Kevin is a homeless man that I met during my years at the university. My good friend Frank, from my campus ministry group, would go with me on weeknights in our college days and offer to take folks to dinner with us on Franklin Street, north of campus. Folks would panhandle for change, and Kevin was a regular. We got to know him well over our dinners. Kevin had a generous sister who provided him a couch, but she couldn’t afford to support him, and his mental health challenges kept him out of stable employment. So, he was perpetually unhoused and in need of food. He was kind and chatty, and always said yes to a meal with us. Twenty years later, he did remember me and our dinners… but his situation was the same.
 
If you had asked me in college if I had hopes that my state and nation would make progress toward housing or helping people like Kevin within ten years or twenty, I would have said yes. Jesus himself said the poor would always be with us. But he didn’t say the same people would always be poor or would have no hope. I shared my experience with my fellow campus ministry alum, who remembered our dinners. They were as disappointed and troubled as I was. Ordinarily, in my reflections, I try to offer a word of encouragement or a challenge we can all accept. Today, I’ll simply say this.
 
We’ve made monumental progress in technology, innovation, safety, health and science in the last twenty years. In the coming months and years, we must choose leaders, hold them accountable, and prioritize in our own lives, faith communities, and municipalities the care for the poor. Kevin is not the only person for whom nothing has changed under four presidents, three governors, and twenty classes of graduates from our nations’ universities. If your faith home has ministries to the homeless, do you participate? If there are opportunities to provide housing or advocate for it, are you supporting it? If families in your community need extra help at the holidays, are you a part of those efforts? Things may not be noticeably different in 2025 than they are now. But in twenty years, they must be.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, make me an instrument of humility in my listening and awareness. Transform me by what I learn and who I form relationships with, ready to work tirelessly for progress. Amen.
 
 
November 11, 2024
Some of them were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, as did a great many of the devout Greeks and not a few of the leading women. But the [local Jewish Thessalonians] became jealous, and with the help of some ruffians in the marketplaces they formed a mob and set the city in an uproar. While they were searching for Paul and Silas to bring them out to the assembly, they attacked Jason’s house. When they could not find them, they dragged Jason and some brothers and sisters before the city authorities, shouting, “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.”
Acts 17: 4-7
 
I was reminded of this text when our pastor preached last week. It describes the events surrounding Paul’s visit to Thesalonica. Jason hosts Paul and Silas at his house while they preach the teachings of Jesus. Fearing the repercussions of this revolutionary message, the locals, who are occupied by Rome, turn on Paul, and even recruit “ruffians” to help them attack Jason’s house. Like the angry mob that demanded the crucifixion of Jesus, they side with the oppressive authoritarian regime, rather than those preaching the ancient message of justice and mercy from the prophets of their Lord.
 
What was Jason’s crime? Hospitality to the stranger, welcome to the refugee, and standing against the Emperor (not them). Paul isn’t bringing a new message. The teachings of Jesus are the words of the prophets of Israel, quoted and explained in parables, and lived out by example in his life, his advocacy for justice, and ministry of mercy. This is so dangerous to the status quo that they attack Paul’s entourage and their hosts. They would rather be agents of an authoritarian regime and its promises of peace and stability and economic certainty than to adhere to the commands and ethic of their faith. They willingly cling to loyalty to the emperor, rather than risk welcoming the sojourner in their land.
 
The story from scripture reminds us that hospitality and justice are prophetic calls to a life that is faithful and dangerous. Christ calls us to build a kingdom of peacemakers, vulnerable outcasts, and the tempest tossed. Empires are built on fear and enmity, threats and borders and barriers and violence. The world and our nation have troubling histories of a rejection of the prophetic message of hospitality.
 
We will always be faced with the challenge to open our homes, churches, and communities to those in need. Sometimes it’s a neighbor whose house burned down, sometimes 80 counties of displaced people who lost their homes to hurricane flooding. Sometimes it’s entire people groups fleeing political violence and economic collapse in their home country. And sometimes it’s a young family of three fleeing the brutality of a king who fears the prophecies of magi from the east. In the coming weeks of recovery for our state, the advent season, and changing powers that govern, will we be people of welcome and refuge like Jason? Or will we join the mob and ruffians who seek to ignore, attack, or expel the vulnerable?
 
Prayer
 
Lord, make me a mighty host like Jason, ready to embrace and show mercy, rather than succumb to fear. Amen.
 
Rev. Brian Daoust