Hope Springs Eternal

What are the stories we don't want to tell?

God loves everyone you hate.

Who told you that you were the worst thing you had ever done?

We’re going to let God speak to us in the midst of the changes of this life. I don’t know what changes you are dealing with. Maybe it's a change in your health or well-being. Maybe it’s a change in your family. Maybe it’s a change in your work. Maybe it’s a dream that didn’t work out, or even a dream that is working out better than you imagined. In the midst of all of these changes, we’re going to listen for God’s voice.

There are profound implications to being named salt and light. Salt and light transform things. Salt and light reveal things. And we are called to transform human activity in such a way that it reveals God in this world.

Jesus' strategy for facing the road ahead can be found right here in today’s Gospel, in the beatitudes: Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are the meek. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Blessed are the merciful. Blessed are the pure in heart. Blessed are the peacemakers. Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake. This is how we face the challenges, the uncertainties, and the opportunities of life. This is how we face the road ahead.

He only really says two things today: “Repent,” and “Follow me.” At some level they are two sides of the same coin. Repentance is more than just a moral change. It is a life change, a turning point. We look in a diΛerent direction. We travel a new road.

Jesus oΛers more than his address. He oΛers an invitation. “Come and see,” he says.

Luke tells us what happened, John tells us it means. Luke tells the Christmas story with facts, John tells it with poetry.

Regardless of who we are, regardless of what we’ve done, and regardless of what we’ve been through or going through, God is with us. The Good News of the Incarnation, the great joy of Christmas, is that God is with us

A sermon for our Blue Christmas service

No wasteland is too far gone for God to restore it. No person or situation is so dead that God cannot find life in it. That’s what we’re preparing for this Advent season… for the hope, the joy, and the love of God that is coming to transform this desert world.

Thank you for believing in the mission of this church, for being companions together in faith, and for being a reminder of the love of God to all you encounter in the world each day. I am grateful for you, for this place, and for the ways God’s dreams are continuing to be revealed in the midst of us.

And that’s why we renew our baptismal vows on this day. To remind ourselves that we are loved and chosen and part of God’s kingdom. To remind ourselves that we take our place in the communion of the saints. To remind ourselves that we belong.

Whatever is going on in your life, whether death or divorce or pain or fear or shame…that’s the place where Jesus stops, looks up with love and acceptance, and calls you back down into a new life.

The life of faith is not a race that can be won. It can only be run. It can only be endured.

We can argue over values, or debate worldviews, and even disagree on whether some ancient words on pottery should be read left to right or right to left. But if we focus too much on that, it only leads to division and hatred and ruin. What we are oΛered, and what we are called to oΛer the world, is Jesus Christ. That’s the Gospel. And that’s the Word that endures.

We don’t always get a chance to thank the people who have impacted our lives. And we don’t always know the lives we’ll impact. Who is part of your legacy? Who are the people that shared and showed the love of God to you? Who are the people that made you feel welcome, that made you feel important, and made you feel loved? Who are your Eunice and Lois and Lacy?

These words rang true for Timothy. These words rang true for the Queen. And I pray these words ring true for you and for me… “But as for you, children of God, shun all worldly things… Shun power and riches and fame and control and division and hatred and ego… And pursue good things… pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, gentleness, endurance…. Fight the good fight of the faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called…” (6.11-12)

I say that every week. Everyone is welcome at God’s table. Everyone. Even me, and even you. Because Jesus found us all. Therefore let us keep the feast.

Jesus calls us to get rid of anything and everything that comes between us and God and each other. That is why the picture Jesus draws in today’s Gospel is so vivid. Following Jesus is hard. Following Jesus is costly. Because Jesus calls us to be all in… Are you ready to cross that line?

We can no longer just see the people who can do something for us, and instead look for the people the world overlooks. And we need to see that we all are in equal need of grace and mercy in the eyes of God. And we’re all equally loved in the eyes of God. And if we are in equal need of grace, and we’re all equally loved, we can no longer participate in a system that places more value on some people and less value on others? As we accept Christ’s invitation to join him at Table in the Kingdom of God we must admit that we are only there because of God’s grace and mercy and love.

In a world full of too many rules, too much fear, and too much sadness that tries to convince us otherwise, we are set free from all sorts of bondage. Like the woman in today’s Gospel, we are set free to live in the miracle of new life and second chances and amazing grace and reckless love, every day, in Jesus’ name.

Like Mary singing about what she knows God will do, we carry that same expectant hope of what God in Christ is doing in and through and around us. A hope that sees hate and meets it with love. A hope that sees failure and meets it with opportunity. A hope that sees brokenness and meets it with wholeness. A hope that sees fear and meets it with faith. A hope that sees death and meets it with life. If that isn’t hope, I don’t know what is. And that’s a hope that our schools…our churches…our world is longing for.

Fearless faith isn’t a straight line where we decide to follow God and never doubt or question or fail or want to turn back. Fearless faith doesn’t mean we never struggle with our faith. Fearless faith doesn’t mean we never deconstruct our faith. Fearless faith is taking the next step, knowing God is there. Fearless faith means trusting that God is here, with us, even when we don’t feel it. Fearless faith is believing that God continues to be present, even when we lack the certainty of a vision, or the certainty of direction, or the certainty of anything.

Our historical marker this week is BOLD PRAYER. Followers of Jesus are marked by bold prayer. Despite our enslavement to sin and brokenness and pride and shame, we pray boldly. Our circumstances don’t always change when we pray. But we change. Our hearts and our minds change, as we boldly proclaim that God has been, is, and always will be working in and through us.

We practice the radical welcome of Jesus who turns the world upside down. Everyone is welcome in God’s kingdom. And everyone is welcome at St. Martin’s. As Jesus continues on his journey to Jerusalem, he leaves behind him individuals, households, villages, and a whole world that will never be the same. Because they have glimpsed a new vision of God’s radical welcome.

I have a friend who has the word “hope” tattooed on her arm. It’s a reminder to her of God’s presence and faithfulness in times of gut-wrenching pain and grief. For her, it calls to mind 1 Thessalonians 4:13…”we do not grieve as those who have no hope.” Even when we don’t feel it, we are people of hope. Even when we’re all tears and broken hearts, we are people of hope. Even when it seems like a pinprick of light down a really long hallway, we are people of hope.

The fullness of God is unbearable. The fullness of God is too big, too beautiful, too wild, to be understood, explained, or contained.

How long, oh Lord! We lament. We yell. We grieve. But we don’t grieve as the world grieves. We don’t grieve as people who have no hope. Even in the midst of weeks like this…. Even in the midst of heartache like this… We hope. We have Easter hope.

God redeems and restores and renews the whole world, through love. And the world will know that we are his disciples, not by the right opinions or positions or allegiances. The world will know that we are Jesus’ disciples by our love. We as Christians don’t stand on issues. We walk with people, in love. And God loves everyone. Even you. And even me.

When we walk in faith and love together, your chips and my cracks and your brokenness come together. When we walk in faith and love together, when our life together is shaped by the cross, we're beautiful.

God is always out ahead of us, making all things new!

Today, on Good Friday, the cross stands tall and declares that the story isn’t over if the story isn’t good. Jesus, the perfect, sinless man, today is smashed to pieces with us.

Tonight Jesus washes those chipped and cracked and broken pieces. He’s lovingly preparing these chipped and cracked and broken pieces, because Jesus has something better in store for them. And Jesus is lovingly preparing us, too. Because Jesus has something better in store for us.

I invite you to join us for the triduum, the great three days, as we walk from the upper room to the garden to the cross. You’ll be seeing these bowls again this week. Their brokenness, as a symbol of our brokenness, will be a guide for our Holy Week. I can’t wait to see what God can do with them. And I can’t wait to see what God can do with us. I bet it will be so, so beautiful.

With each step Jesus is saying, “don’t be afraid, I am with you.” With each step Jesus is saying, “you can’t do it all, you need each other.” With each step Jesus is saying, “I will heal you, forgive you, and make you whole.” With each step Jesus is saying, “I will pursue you to the very end even to death and beyond.” With each step Jesus is saying, “I love you.” We just need to open our hands, let go of the stones, and hold on to Jesus.

Learning to love, and learning what to love…learning what to hold on to and what to let go of…that’s the real work of Lent. That’s when Lent gets through to me. That’s when I stop doing Lent, and when I start letting Lent do it’s work on me.

Jesus sees you when you are poor and when you are rich. Jesus sees you when you are hungry and when you are well-Ξlled. Jesus sees you when you are weeping and when you are laughing. Jesus sees you when you are excluded and when you are brought in. Jesus sees you. Even on the days when it is hard to look in the mirror…Jesus sees you. There isn’t anything you can do to change that. Nothing you do can make God love you less, and God won’t ever give up on you. God is with us. God is for us. God loves us. God sees us.

Jesus has a broad and expansive and abundant vision for his ministry, and the people seem to have a diΛerent, more narrow and scarce vision. They are so caught up in their own agenda they can’t hear, let alone participate in, God’s agenda. What do you think? Does that ever happen in today’s world? In the church? In our own lives?

Will we ask ourselves what Jesus is telling us to do? What is Jesus telling you to do? What is Jesus telling St. Martin’s to do?

Where does Jesus meet us in our expectations?

“...the Word became Οesh and lived among us.” It did in Jesus. And it did in two Ξshermen from Virginia. It did in the lawn guy with a truck. So, what about you and me?

That’s why we gather on this night year after year. To hear once again the story of God’s Hope. God’s Peace. God’s Joy. God’s never-ending, never failing, never-ceasing Love. No matter where you are. No matter what you’re feeling. No matter the burden you’re carrying. Listen to what God is saying to you…open your eyes to what God is showing you…through a little boy born this night… I love you any way you feel, no matter what you do. I love you any way you are, I love you because you’re you!

It is Advent. We’re waiting for the world to change. We’re waiting for our world to change. And that usually starts by us making a change. So go and do the next right thing.

If Christ is our king, then we are free to truly see each other… If Christ is our king, then we are free to truly hear each other… If Christ is our king, then we are free to truly love each other.

What does the world need St. Martin’s to be? What does God want St. Martin’s to be? We aren’t the St. Martin’s of Ξfty years ago when those six families got together. We aren’t the St. Martin’s of 21 months ago before COVID. We aren’t even the St. Martin’s of four months ago before I moved here. We can’t be limited by the ideas of who we were, or even who we wanted to be, in those times and in those places. Because we are St. Martin’s, now. This time. This place. And we have to open our imaginations to what new thing Jesus might be calling us to be.

We’re called to love when it’s hard. We’re called to love when it might cost us something. We’re called to love when we don’t know how the journey will look. We’re called to love, period.

This blind man could see that following the way of Jesus meant risking ridicule by shouting out. This blind man could see that following the way of Jesus meant giving up any thoughts of power. This blind man could see that following the way Jesus meant leaving behind everything he had.

Jesus is inviting the young man to give up relying on himself and instead become a disciple. To become part of something greater than he can imagine. To become part of something that will change the world. And Jesus is asking us to do the same thing.

We’re about to baptize two babies. Their parents and Godparents will make some promises, the whole congregation will make some promises, and then these two little babies will be baptized. They didn’t do anything to deserve it, they don’t even yet know what it means. But God knows what it means. It means that they are, today, a child of God. They are, today, a sibling of all of us. And it means they have everything they need to follow Jesus. Sure, they’re going to grow and learn and do great things. But nothing they can learn or do will make them any more a part of God’s family. Nothing they can learn or do will ever make their voice more important to God.

Regardless of our career, our call is the same. Sometimes that journey will be scary. Sometimes that journey will be lonely. But we still must go. And like Tommy...like Bishop Chase...we know that Jesus is with us every step of the way.

I wonder if this new story can help us redefine our priorities to be more in line with those of Jesus…. I wonder if this new story can help us better see each other as brothers and sisters and siblings in Christ... I wonder if this new story can help us take God more seriously than we take ourselves… Everything we do here, from worship to formation to fellowship to service in the community, the purpose of all of this is to help us learn what it means to be followers of Jesus. I wonder what Jesus is going to teach us next…?

Scripture doesn’t ever really give us an answer to the question of suffering. Scripture is full of stories of bad things happening to the righteous and the unrighteous, however we’d define those groups. Scripture is full of bad things happening to people that love God. We’re not promised a life free of suffering. We’re not promised a life free from heartbreak. But God does promise to draw near.

When we feast on Jesus, we live differently. When we believe in Jesus, we live differently. When we trust in Jesus, we live differently. When we pattern our lives in the way of Jesus, we live differently.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this reading from Ephesians popped up today. This reading clearly lays out our job descriptions. What we’re called to do. God has called you all to be the people of St. Martin’s. God...through you...has called me to be your rector. God has called us...all of us...to be the body of Christ in this part of the world. And I’m glad that we get to do this together.

We need to follow Jesus...who calls us to leave our comfortable pews and serve. We need to follow Jesus...who calls us to tell the world the Good News that conquers death. We need to follow Jesus...who calls us to love our neighbor, even when our neighbor is hard to love. We need to follow Jesus, who calls us to dine with tax collectors, beggars, and sinners. We need to follow Jesus, who calls us to reach out to others across the boundaries of race, color, college football team, and anything other dividing wall we try to throw up.

But, when Jesus touches the unclean thing, the power is reversed. This is the power of Jesus’ touch. To make that which the law declares as unclean to be clean. To take that which the world casts out and bring it back in.

They didn’t know the whole plan. They just knew the next step Jesus was asking them to take: Get on the boat and cross the border that lies between what you know, where your comfort is, and that which is wholly other to you. Theirs was a response of faith, not fear.

In today’s parable, we’re invited to see how God is always at work in our lives, like a seed scattered upon the earth. As a seed does its seed thing, so the kingdom does its kingdom thing. We may not understand it. Outward appearances may even suggest God is absent. It may look like nothing is happening. We sleep and rise. We wait. We trust. We hope. We pray. We go about the ordinary work of life. Yet within that ordinariness, the life of God has already been planted in each one of us. One day it sprouts. It grows. The invisible becomes visible. The full harvest was always there, hidden in the seeds. It may have been invisible but it was never absent. We now see what has always been.

It’s alright if the world thinks you’re a little weird, because family even loves the weird ones.

For God so loves Nicodemus. For God so loves you. For God so loves me. For God so loves the whole world...that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but may have eternal life.

Jesus comes to us - behind any locked doors we try to put in the way- and gives us his peace. Then he gives us his power to do the kinds of things that mere humans can’t do, the kind of things that Jesus was doing. Things like defeating our own selΟshness, loving other people, tending to the sick and suΜering, breaking down walls of division, and reconciling the world.

And what if we took our cue from Jesus? What if we came to the thresholds in our life trusting that Jesus Christ is with us. In the joy and in the sorrow. In the hope and in the despair. In the living and in the dying. Jesus is with us...always with us...at the threshold. And we know that Easter is always on the other side.

God’s love knows no boundary. God’s love knows no division. God’s love knows no “us” and “them.”

What are we willing to risk?

It’s rather like being on the roller coaster of our salvation story: the joyous wine of the banquet mixed with the bitterness of betrayal; the shame and agony of crucifixion answered with the unbelievable promise of life beyond the grave.

Jesus chose to give in a world that takes. Jesus chose to love in a world that hates. Jesus chose to heal in a world that injures. Jesus chose peace in a world at war. Jesus chose to give life in a world that kills. Jesus offered mercy when others sought vengeance, forgiveness when others condemned, and compassion when others were indifferent.

At the deepest level our Nazareths are about our understanding of God. We just can’t see how anything good can come out of Nazareth. We cannot believe that God can be present, active, and revealed in Nazareth, whether it be another person, a relationship, a situation, or our own life.

St. Timothy’s Episcopal Church (Columbia, S.C.) Luke 2:31-52

Christmas this year has been isolating for many. Maybe it was for you. But the Good News of God in Christ is that the Word has become flesh and dwells among us. The Word isn’t just present in the big fancy church services, or the wonderful family dinners, or the Christmas parties. God is not just with us on the days when our calendars or homes or hearts are full. God is with us in the everyday, mundane, isolated moments. God is with us in the joy and the sorrow. God is with us in the dark and the light. God is with us in death and in life.

What are we willing to risk for the treasure entrusted to us?

Sometimes you have to ditch your sermon and just talk about division and reconciliation for 20 minutes...

How many times must we choose to forgive? Tell me this. How many times have you been hurt and suffered by the actions or words of another? How many times has anger or fear controlled you? How many times has the thought of revenge filled you? How many times have you shuddered at the sight, the name, or the memory of another? How many times have you replayed in your head the argument with another? That’s how many times you choose. “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.”

“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,” he says. Let your heart love like Jesus. Let your mind be filled with the same concerns as Jesus. Let your feet walk in step Jesus. Let your hands touch the world like Jesus. Let your eyes see the world like Jesus sees the world. Live a life yoked with Jesus Christ, living and moving and breathing as one, and you will find rest for your soul.

Loving Jesus first doesn’t mean only loving Jesus. We still love our friends, our families, our communities, and ourselves. But when we love those things first, before or without Jesus at the center, that’s idolatry. When our first love is Jesus, we can love our families best. Even and perhaps especially - when that means calling out and working to heal the sin and brokenness we see in our families. When our first love is Jesus, we can love our country and community best. Even - and perhaps especially - when that means calling out and working to heal the sin and brokenness we see in our country and community. When our first love is Jesus, we can love ourselves best. Even - and perhaps especially - when that means calling out and working to heal the sin and brokenness we see in ourselves.

We’re in different homes, different cities, different places, with our own gifts and abilities. But we’re together, even when we’re apart. (Preached from my back yard for the good folks of Holy Trinity, Clemson)

What do we do when everything is changing?

How are we the light of the world when the power has gone out?

What can we learn from Simeon?

We can hear all about him, we can read the stories, we can sing the songs, and we know something about Jesus. But, like the beach, like our favorite bands, like the Holy Land, just learning about it doesn’t suffice. You have to encounter it in real life to truly begin to grasp what is. When we truly encounter Jesus Christ, it changes everything.

A week late in posting, but my sermon from January 12, 2020, at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Columbia, SC.

We all want to be remembered. It means that we matter, we belong, we exist. When we are remembered, someone else bears witness to all those things. When we are remembered it is as if our life is being put back together, because it is. That is exactly what is happening. We are being made whole.

When our temples fall, we discover that God has always been with us – in the changes, chances, and chaos of life; in the pain, loss, and disappointment. Stone by stone, God rebuilds our lives. Stone by stone, God restores the original beauty of our life and world. Stone by stone, a new temple arises from the rubble.

What did I learn from the night my life changed?

A sermon preached at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Columbia, S.C., on the Feast of the Baptism of Our Lord.

Through our highs and our lows, our hopes and our fears, our wins and our losses... We are in this together.

As I was riding in the back of Ismael’s truck, with my family safe and on the way to meet friends, I texted my mom and sisters. I joked that we hopped in some guys truck to hitch a ride, and my sister replied back saying “You’re not supposed to take rides from strangers :-)” Here’s what I told her: “Nobody is a stranger in Houston right now. These folks can’t get to their house, but they have a truck so they are helping others.” That is kingdom hospitality. That is the kingdom of God.

But this love, God’s love, just as likely to bring us stress and division rather than peace and harmony. And this is Good News.

One reality of life is waiting; waiting for someone to show up, for something to happen, for things to change.

This has to stop. And we have to change the way we speak to and about each other.

John 17:20-26 Jesus prayed for his disciples, and then he said. "I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. "Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me. I made your name known to them, and I will make it known, so that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them."

A sermon for Easter 3C, preached at St. Michael & All Angels, Columbia, S.C.

We Have Seen the Risen Christ (A Sermon for for the Feast of the Resurrection - 2019) All Saints Episcopal Church (Beech Island, SC) John 20:1-18 April 21, 2019 We are called to go from this place and tell the world that pain and sorrow and death and despair will never...can never...have the final say. So go out and share your story. Go out and share the story.

The waiting is almost over.

These may seem like abstractions, like pie-in-the-sky theology that will never, ever, in a million years become a reality. And yet, as followers of Jesus Christ, we live each day with the expectation that heaven on earth will come to fruition. And in so doing, we make it more real. We live our heavenly citizenship. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done. We pray this daily because we are people of hope.

he clearest definition I’ve ever heard for the mission of God is this: Crossing boundaries for love. Bishop Holly did that his whole life. He was a priest and a bishop and a missionary that crossed boundaries, literally and figuratively. That’s why we remember him today. Philip did that, when he listened to the Spirit’s call to to cross a boundary and engage in conversation with the Ethiopian. Lent...and this journey to Good Friday and Easter...is a reminder that Jesus crossed crossed the ultimate boundary...between heaven and earth...for love. So, I ask you? Where do you see boundaries in your community? In your church? In your own life? And what boundaries are you willing to cross for love?

“Who Is My Neighbor ?” is a four-part Lenten Series beginning Sunday, March 10 at 4:00 p.m. sponsored by St. John’s Episcopal Church, 301 W. Liberty St.,  Winnsboro, SC.  Speakers from the Episcopal, Jewish, Muslim and Greek Orthodox faiths will offer insights and observations about their faith and how love is the starting point for interfaith dialogue. Click here for my initial manuscript (which is never fully what I end up saying...)

Why do we fast?

When we know the end of the story, it frees us to look at the journey in a new way.

Jesus is asking his friends to open their eyes, to see God at work in the world around them, and to look for those ways they might participate in God’s mission. Right here. Right now. Today. In a very real way, the Spirit was upon Jesus. And that same Spirit abides in you, and me, and all of us. Right here. Right now. Today. And by emphasizing the word “today,” Jesus transformed Isaiah's words, Isaiah's prophecy, into a powerful invitation for the whole community to act on behalf of God's dream of justice. Right here. Right now. Today.

Timing is everything, and it is time to pray and discern and study the Bible and get to know our neighborhoods, so that we can figure out what particular roles we play in these stories.

We don’t just need to wait for the Light to come. We need to be the light in the world.

To me, this section of Mark isn’t rocket science. It is about how we are supposed to live. About how we are supposed to love. I don’t know if y’all are in your stewardship season or not, but it’s also about how we’re supposed to give. But above all, it is about how we are supposed to respond to God and relate to one another. Loving...living...giving. Sacrificially...selflessly...recklessly.

What is the greatest commandment?

What do you want me to do for you? I want to see everything as made in God's image.

What are we willing to give up to follow Jesus?

Jesus is talking about a relationship all right, but perhaps he is using marriage as a metaphor for something bigger. Jesus is talking about brokenness in our lives, and in our relationships...but he is talking about the source of that brokenness. Hard hearts. Unlistening hearts.

As is the case with any successful institution, the church as we know it today was built with the best social and religious engineering available: as a robust and hardy structure to last. A lot of time, energy, sweat, and money has been invested. Generations of investment. And it served as a bridge for many to move from birth to death. It spanned the river. And that all worked very well when the river was in the right place.

We stood with one another when we faced a storm 10 months ago. And we are called every day to​ stand with each other in all the other storms we face in our lives. But that’s the easy part. We’re also called to stand with those that aren’t in this room right now. Jesus and his disciples were going to the other side of the lake when all this happened. They were going to the people that weren’t part of their tribe. They were going to the people on the margins.

Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God Oh, it chases me down, fights ‘til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine I couldn’t earn it, I don’t deserve it, still You give Yourself away Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God

In First John, and throughout the Gospel of John, eternal life doesn’t just mean life beyond the grave. Eternal life isn’t just talking about what happens after we die, but instead it is about how we live now - before we die - once we put our faith in Christ. Eternal life is full life, everlasting life, changed life, now and in the world to come.

This is the faith that overcomes the world: God’s love brings healing out of brokenness. God’s love brings light out of darkness. God’s love brings day out of night. God’s love brings life out of death.

We live in a world that is broken, there’s no doubt about that. But that same world is precious to God, is loved by God, and is filled with a great many people called to live out God’s love. Because love is from God. And there is plenty of work for love to do.

You are God’s own beloved child. Become what you already are. Live into your new identity. See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called the children of God! And that is what we are! Now, act like it!

God is light. And walking in that light, being people of that light, will begin to change us. Because the light reveals, heals, and purifies.

You can’t stay here, because nobody ever gets to stay. So go out and share your story, share THE story. Shout it into the darkness. Cry out into the emptiness. Tell the world that you have experienced the risen Lord… and he is alive and he has transformed your life… and he is still making all things new. Nobody ever gets to stay. So go.

I suspect the Greeks in today’s gospel didn’t go expecting to talk about death when they showed up to worship. They just wanted to see Jesus. But Jesus talked about death. A lot.

Sabbath is taking time for God. It's more than not going to work, not working at home, not sitting at the computer, not working around the house—it's reminding ourselves of God's central place in our lives and being grateful. It’s also reminding ourselves that we aren’t the center of the universe and that work can go on without us.

A Lenten presentation for St. Stephen's in Huntsville, Texas, looking at how Luke connects the story of Jesus with the story of Israel.

The way of Christ, self-denial, reminds us that our life is not our own. It belongs to God. It reminds us that we are not in control, God is. Our life is not about us. It is about God There is great freedom in knowing these things. We are free to be fully alive. Through self denial our falling down becomes rising up. Losing i​s​ saving. Death ​is ​resurrection.

Casting and mending are realities of life. They are also the circumstances in which Jesus comes to us, the context in which we hear the call to new life, and the place where we are changed and the ordinary is transformed.

Take a moment to remember the last baptism you witnessed. Perhaps you can recall the proud parents and godparents, dressed in their Sunday best, standing around the baptismal font. In their arms they hold their young, freshly-bathed child, hoping that she won’t create a fuss. Before them stands the minister or priest, neatly dressed in suit and tie, or robe, or colorful vestments. The font stands ready. The congregation looks on with curiosity and pleasure, wondering how the child will respond to what is about to happen. The atmosphere is peaceful and serene. It is a family occasion, a beautiful moment that will long be remembered.

Matthew begins with a genealogy linking Jesus back to Abraham. Luke begins with a short address about his research methodology. John begins with a mysterious poem about creation. But Mark just hits the ground running and never looks back. “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”

Baseball has the power to unite us across differences that are so often used to divide. That sounds an awful lot like the Christian faith to me, doesn’t it?

So why should we read Leviticus? I believe that underneath all the rules about sacrifice and purity, all the strange regulations about food and clothes, there is a vision of holiness and harmony with God that is life-giving and has the potential to speak a healing word to our fractured and alienated condition.

God’s motive was freedom from bondage and a new opportunity to rebuild the community. Cyrus’ motive was expanding his territory by military might and increasing the kingdom over which he reigned. How could God rely on someone like that to further God’s intention?

Turn and Live (A Sermon for Proper 21A) by Alan Bentrup

We all know somebody who never earned nor deserved what they got, right? They didn’t really deserve that job, promotion, raise, recognition, happiness, or success. We worked longer or tried harder, but that didn’t make any difference. More often than not, we view the world, ourselves, and others through the lens of fairness rather than grace. We view ourselves in comparison to others. That’s the exact opposite of how God views the world.

Forgiveness, for Jesus, is not a quantifiable event. It is a quality; a way of being, a way of living, a way of loving, a way of relating, a way of thinking and seeing. It is nothing less than the way of Christ.

A sermon for Proper 16A August 27, 2017

Mary, Moana, and the Gospel (A Sermon for St. Mary's Day 2017)

“Is it real?” That’s one of my boys’ favorite questions. When they encounter something new or different that is what they want to know. Reality for them is something that can be seen, tasted, touched, smelled, and heard. Reality was determined by, and limited to, the five physical senses.

Be Transformed - A Sermon for VBS Sunday by Alan Bentrup