Easter Sunday • April 21, 2019

Old Testament: Acts 10:34-43 or Isaiah 65:17-25

Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24 

Epistle: 1 Corinthians 15:19-26 or Acts 10:34-43

Gospel: John 20:1-18 or Luke 24:1-12

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark.” John 20:1.

I read this passage and I am reminded of cold mornings where I walk with the morning frost crushing under my feet. Those quiet, still, cold days befriended me as I traveled from home to the school bus stop. I walked alone and frequently in the dark morning twilight.

When I read this passage focusing on the manifestation of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, I am overwhelmed by the fact that Jesus was raised from the dead early and while it is still dark, but Christ’s followers just had not known it yet. This is a fresh paradigm for us to embrace. The reality that God’s life-giving acts occur in stillness, silence, and darkness. Jesus makes dark, damp, still tombs, into the lighted, warm, vibrant wombs of animated existence bursting forth for all time!

In the 50 days of Eastertide, we recall the events and encounters that would seem to afford the light of the resurrection to be obscured by happenings in the world and in our lives. Resurrection Sunday certifies to us that the light of Jesus Christ shall never be extinguished by apathy, fear, or even death. Indeed, nothing shall separate us from the love of Jesus Christ.

Eastertide reminds me that God is forever omnipotent, omnipresent, always redeeming, continuously loving. The potency of God raising Jesus from the dead is in the simple fact that whenever guilt, hurt, failure, shame, fear, and death abound, Jesus’s love supersedes and overrides all of these to nullify their vigor in our souls and bodies. If we are willingly vulnerable, we can allow God’s Holy Spirit to reveal to us that resurrection happens in unexpected ways, and in unexpected places, always — and most especially in the early darkness. We can then, like Mary Magdalene, let go of our expectations of Jesus Christ, and go tell others we have seen the Lord, and we have experienced resurrection!

Happy Easter, Happy Resurrection Sunday!

The Reverend Dr. Tommie Watkins

Holy Saturday • April 20, 2019

Old Testament: Job 14:1-14 or Lamentations 3:1-9, 19-24
Psalm 31:1-4, 15-16
Epistle: 1 Peter 4:1-8
Gospel: Matthew 27:57-66 or John 19:38-42
“Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.” Matthew 27:61
Faithful to the bitter end, or what they thought at this moment was the bitter end, the Marys sat vigil with the buried Jesus. I am imagining what the next day must have been like for them, for all the apostles. It was their Sabbath, but on that Sabbath day, it was also the day after their dear friend and teacher had been put to death.
I can still remember that indescribable feeling of emptiness and loss when upon awakening that first morning after someone I loved deeply has died and the awareness that they are gone comes into consciousness. It is the feeling of fresh raw grief. Whatever drama may have accompanied the previous day, the day of dying, this day is faced in those first moments of awakening utterly alone.
Our Holy Saturday invites us to sit in this tension of grief with the Marys while at the same time knowing that Easter is coming. It’s hard to do. The brief and stark Holy Saturday liturgy is barely over when the congregants, many of whom are Altar and Flower Guild, spring into action getting everything ready for a beautiful and joyous celebration of the resurrection.
But if we listen to Jesus teaching with his friends Mary and Martha, Jesus wants us to not be so distracted by the many things to do that we are not listening to him. Jesus’s teaching is that God’s way is the way of love. His death was the result of the world’s way of power that feared this way of love would take away power and privilege. And that is true: love, the true love of God, is the antithesis of power and privilege. 
The tension of Holy Saturday is that of holding in our hearts, minds, and soul that Jesus suffered a terrible death precisely because the love he preached threatened those with the power to silence him by putting him to death. And also knowing that the true power of God, which is eternal, allowed Jesus the Christ to overcome death. Godself came as a human being to teach how to love every human being and all creation. The world refused to embrace this radical love, so Jesus chose to allow his suffering and death to demonstrate just how radical this love is. This is salvation.

The Reverend Deacon Gerri Aston

Good Friday • April 19, 2019

Old Testament: Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Psalm 22
Epistle: Hebrews 10:16-25 or Hebrews 4:14-16, 5:7-9
Gospel: John 18:1—19:42

My favorite Good Friday hymn is “Sing My Tongue the Glorious Battle.”  I particularly love the stanza that says:

“Bend thy boughs O tree of glory!
Thy relaxing sinews bend;
For awhile that ancient rigor
That thy birth bestowed, suspend.”

“Suspense” is such an apt word for Good Friday. So many things were suspended on that cross – Sin, Death, Life, Doubt, Belief.
For me, the understanding of death as a momentary suspense of animation is beautiful, powerful, and gentle. I envision an illustrated tree, as if from a cartoon, its colorful leaves swirling about. For a brief second the leaves pause in midair, as if trying to decide what to do next – then, all of sudden, they decide on a direction and are blown by the wind to the next scene. Or think of that breath-holding moment in Star Wars when Han Solo yells “light speed!” and for a half a moment all the stars are frozen in the sky in brilliant white streaks. A second later, the Millennium Falcon launches into the universe.
 Imagine those exciting, uncertain seconds of utter darkness after the lights go off in a theatre, before the first burst of music or light appears on stage. Or the momentary doubt I feel in the pit of my stomach every time I start playing with technology above my skill level, my finger hovering over the keyboard, quietly whispering the words, “Let’s just see if this works.”
 Perhaps what appeals to me is the tension between being in control and letting forces beyond my comprehension take over. What I’m feeling in these moments of suspense is a shifting of power – all of a sudden, I become vulnerable to awe, surprise, disillusionment, disappointment, and amazement. The crucifixion was a moment when God relinquished control and held earth and heaven in suspense. For those watching from the ground, the future is yet uncertain.
 This Good Friday, I imagine Jesus, hanging there on the cross, ready to draw his last breath. For a moment his life, and the faith of his disciples, will be suspended. “Let’s just see if this works,” he thinks to himself. And the tree, frozen briefly in time, prepares to change direction.

The Reverend Katie N. Rengers

Maundy Thursday • April 18, 2019

Old Testament: Exodus 12:1-4(5-10), 11-14

Psalm 116:1, 10-17 

Epistle: 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

Gospel: John 13:1-17, 31b-35

For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.  1 Corinthians 11:26

Years ago I came to the Episcopal Church from the much more conservative religious tradition of my family. Despite my disillusionment with the idea of church I had a great respect for Holy Communion, or “the Lord’s Supper” as it was known in the faith of my youth. In earlier experience I had been taught that the ritual was a memorial only… a remembrance of a moment in the life of Jesus that we were commanded to keep. While the actions of sharing bread and wine (or grape juice, as it were) seemed to hint at the sacred, this explanation seemed somehow incomplete.  

In my early days in the Episcopal Church, when I was still considering whether or not I would eventually join, Fr. Francis Walter led an instructed Eucharist for the Catechumenate class. In the process of showing us the particulars of the rite, he spoke of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist… how Jesus was present with us in the elements of bread and wine. The Episcopal Church teaching did not attempt to explain how this was possible but it was accepted… like the love of God or our salvation through the Cross. In that moment I felt that I understood why Holy Communion was so important. It was not just the memory of an event but an ongoing experience of the living Christ that had the power to strengthen… to heal … and to transform those who partook of this holy food. Suddenly I knew that I wanted to become a Christian… an Episcopalian… and I went on to be baptized at Easter Vigil that year.

In the time since my faith in and love of the Blessed Sacrament has grown. The intimate connection I experience with Christ and with my brothers and sisters of faith in those moments of the sacred meal are the foundation of my life in Christ. It doesn’t matter how I feel… what difficulties the week has held… or the trials I have endured… when I come to the Altar seeking the Real Presence of my Lord I find peace… I find solace… I find strength for the continuation of my journey.  

When our Lord sat at table with his disciples and gave them the new commandment to love one another as he loved them, he knew they would need the strength of the community to be able to faithfully stand in the face of trial and persecution. The sharing of his precious Body and Blood has been the means of grace for generations of Christ’s followers, and continues to feed us as nothing else can. We are made one in the love of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ; and in the sharing of his Holy Communion, we draw closer to one another and to the God who made us and loves us.

The Reverend Robyn Arnold

Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Old Testament: Isaiah 50:4-9a

Psalm 70 

Epistle: Hebrews 12:1-3

Gospel: John 13:21-32

When I was an undergraduate at UAB, one of my favorite novels was Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams. The book manages to fit ghosts, robots, time travel, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge all in the same story. In a line that has stuck with me for years now, the title character professes his belief in “the fundamental interconnectedness of all things.” I didn’t profess belief in much of anything back then, but it turns out the joke was on me. 

In the Apostles’ Creed, we affirm our faith in “the communion of saints” (BCP 96), and the Letter to the Hebrews reminds us of the “great cloud of witnesses” that surrounds us (Hebrews 12:1 NRSV). The notion that we are mystically connected to all the people of faith who have come before us offers comfort. Through the saints who have witnessed God’s grace, we find strength to “lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely” and to “run with perseverance the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1 NRSV). The bond that ties us to each other and to the communion of saints is “Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2 NRSV). 

This eternal communion, our “fundamental interconnectedness,” is not just good news but the best news I can imagine. We are never alone. We are all in this together. All of us are caught up in the renewal of the whole creation. Our faith is that Christ came in to the world not merely to set us free from sin but to restore the cosmos to health and wholeness. 

The Good News that we proclaim is without boundaries. The Holy Spirit whispers it everywhere and always. I heard it from a character in a novel by a really funny atheist author and from that great cloud of witnesses that we share communion with though Jesus Christ. And as it turns out, I think I believe in “the fundamental interconnectedness of all things,” too. Amen. Amen. Amen.

The Reverend Jeff Evans

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Old Testament: Isaiah 49:1-7
Psalm 71:1-14
Epistle: 1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Gospel: John 12:20-36

“While I was in my mother’s womb, he named me.” Isaiah 49:1

Scripturally, to name a thing is to have dominion over it. In the priestly creation story God names many created wonders: land, sea, sky, and day. God even names the darkness “night.” Thus he even has power over the darkness. Furthermore, each creative act is followed by the formula of divine approbation, “and it was good.” God not only has power over all created things, but he also instills in them an intrinsic goodness and purposefulness. All creation serves God’s purposes.
The remaining lections also pick up themes of omnipotence, teleology and concomitant servanthood. The psalmist cries to God for his protection. The New Testament lection speaks of God’s surprising use of various gifts of persons despite their contrary, outward appearance. In the Gospel, Jesus anticipates the ultimate reach of his teleology, his servanthood willingly.
In all these lections I take both comfort and challenge. I am, have been, and will be named by the Lord. Named for a purpose. Nor am I unique in this. All persons may claim such.
As I reached the half century mark this year, the uncertainties of middle age loomed clear. My parents died, yet I remained. I began a new career in entirely different field. I sold my childhood home and packed my belongings. Dear things were lost. The uncertain darkness of the world was palpable. I forgot my divine name for a time.
Yet now I recall a God has power over the darkness. I have new hope, new purpose. I and my pet have a new home. I rejoice in a renewed partnership. Things once lost have been found. I enjoy the fellowship of new coworkers in new tasks. I am spiritually renewed since my sojourn on Cursillo literally a year ago at the time of this writing.
I am recalling my name, my purpose. Where this leads, I do not yet fully know. But I am open to whatever servanthood lies ahead. 

Ken Floyd

Monday, April 15, 2019

Old Testament: Isaiah 42:1-9
Psalm 36:5-11
Epistle: Hebrews 9:11-15
Gospel: John 12:1-11

“I have taken you by the hand…” Isaiah 42:6

Alain de Botton created several excellent talks about marriage in his School of Life series. He points out that as parents we take a lot of grief from our kids. In a fit of anger a child might say: “I don’t love you!” or even “I hate you!” As parents, when we’re at our best, we don’t respond in anger. Instead we try to, as my wife, Emily says, “one down them.” We think something like: “My child is hungry or tired and I need to be patient with them.” Unfortunately, when our spouses are angry we think: “Are you kidding me?! Don’t you know how hard I’ve been working!? Why are you persecuting me!?” We don’t tend to pause and wonder if our spouse is hungry, tired, or stressed and could use some patience, or even some mercy.
Alain de Botton says that sometimes that we should treat our spouses as tired little children, thinking that inside all of us are tired children who need some attention, food, and rest. This is, after all, how God treats us. God took Israel by the hand even when Israel rebelled; Jesus called us “friend” and forgave us even as we killed Him. Jesus sees past my sins clear through to His love for me. He knows that I’m often a hungry child in need of patient love. 

 The Reverend Geoff Evans

Palm Sunday • April 14, 2019

Old Testament: Isaiah 50:4-9a
Psalm 31:9-16
Epistle: Philippians 2:5-11
Gospel: Luke 22:14–23:56 or Luke 23:1-49
“Be present, be present, O Jesus, our great High Priest, as you were present with your disciples, and be known to us in the breaking of bread; who live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, now and for ever. Amen.”  (Book of Common Prayer, 834)
Growing up as an acolyte at St. Andrew’s, I often heard the above prayer before receiving communion. Fr. Walter prayed it countless times gathering the altar party before Holy Eucharist. Fr. Burnette sometimes offered it right before we left the smoky vesting room. Now as a priest myself, I say these same words with acolytes, Lay Eucharistic Ministers, and others to prepare for God’s Sacred Supper. I even quietly utter this prayer when I am the only one serving.
What always stands out in this supplication is our beseeching Christ to be here with us. How remarkable, right? We ask the One through whom all things were made to be here as we break bread together re-membering Christ. Even for this theological nerd this is trippy! And, even more amazingly Christ’s presence is always with us — bidden or unbidden. However on this Palm Sunday, I find myself flipping this prayer around.
Holy Week demands us to be present — not just physically at the services to come, but totally present (mind, body, heart, and soul). On Good Friday, churches will sing, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” These words are not meant as a guilt-inducing motivator to boast Holy Week attendance, rather this question and our call to be present with Christ is an invitation to transform the way of the world. The events of Holy Week were meant to turn the suffering of this world on its head — to prove that God did not desire life to be vengeful, violent, and vindictive; that God would love us always and we are to do the same. And yet we still betray, deny, and crucify God by doing the same to our neighbors. So, this week and always…
Will you be present with Christ Jesus humbly entering Jerusalem? Will you be with those who meekly enter your life? Will you sit with Christ gathering friends for the Last Supper and foot washing? Will you commune and serve those on the margins of your life? Will you remain with Christ even when you betray, deny, and crucify Christ? Will you seek to reconcile with those you harm? Will you be present with Christ who is present in you and the other?

The Reverend Seth Olson

Saturday, April 13, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 31:27-34

Psalm 137:1-6(7-9), 144 * 42,43

Epistle: Romans 11:25-36

Gospel: John 11:28-44 or 12:36-50

Since becoming a parent I have read many infant and toddler books on love. The stories vary in how love is observed and experienced but generally they all leave me in tears. I get choked up every time because these simple stories connect with a love that is already alive for my child. They give words and draw forth a reality that already exists as though my love is speaking. 

Stories of love are also within our Bible, speaking to the reality that already exists between God and us. God does not have to find mediums to elicit these words and explanations as to the depth and power of the love that God has for us. The love is not contingent on our understanding; it would still exist. The love is given words that we can understand because God seeks relationship: “I want you to know that I love you, unconditionally, with joy, and forever.” Explaining ourselves to others nurtures a connection on both ends. 

The love story we hear about in Jeremiah in today’s readings describes how God wants “to build and to plant” rather than “to pluck up and break down, to overthrow, destroy, and bring evil.” God speaks about loving in community. Brought together with God’s desire for inclusivity, we are also sealed with a new covenant where God will “put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts.” God speaks about loving with intimacy. This no longer sounds like the God who is afar, out there, watching us, judging us. This God gathers us up like a mother hen and claims us all as her own with a proclamation that she will always be with us, in us. God desires a deep intimacy driven by unconditional love, a yearning that transcends deed or merit. 

When God’s love came to life as Jesus it ignited a rapid paradigm shift. In John’s Gospel account, Jesus is moved by Mary’s grief, “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved” that he does not allow even death to exist as a barrier to God’s love. Jesus invited Lazarus to “come out” from death still “bound with strips of cloth” around “his hands and feet.” What power and love is this? 

The story of love that Jesus personifies moves us beyond our laws of religion and nature. In today’s reading, God is pointing us to a greater love that already exists.

Kimberly Meuth Olson

Friday, April 12, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 29:1, 4-13
Psalm 95, 22 * 141, 143:1-11(12)
Epistle: Romans 11:13-24
Gospel: John 11:11-27 or 12:1-10
The Raising of Lazarus: John 11 1-27
Recently I came across a tombstone with the following inscription written on it: “If love could have saved you, you would have lived for ever.” This sentiment touched me profoundly, for I knew that the young man whose grave this was had had a sad and troubled history that ultimately led him to take his own life. In today’s reading from John’s gospel, and his alone, we read the account of the death of Lazareth of Bethany. Knowing that their brother was dying, his sisters, Mary and Martha, early followers of Jesus, sent for Jesus, in the belief that he could save their brother. After all, they had witnessed many of the miracles that Jesus had already performed. So, consequently, they felt certain that Jesus could save their brother. But, alas, by the time that Jesus arrived at the house of Mary and Martha, Lazarus had already been dead for four days. Like any grieving family members, Mary and Martha express their profound sense of loss and disappointment, especially believing that if only Jesus had been there, their brother would not have died. What follows is a profound revelation, in which Jesus reveals his two natures: the human and the divine. He reveals his human nature by showing his profound loss at the death of his friend Lazareth. His reaction to Lazareth’s death comes in the shortest verse in the New Testament: “Jesus wept.” But Jesus also manifests his divine nature by raising Lazareth from the grave. By this miracle, Jesus turns the notion of life and death on its head. Here Jesus is also foreshadowing his own death and resurrection. When we think of all of the pain and suffering that Jesus went through at the time of his own crucifixion and death, and the fear and trepidation his disciples felt, once the master had gone to the grave, we can understand how Mary and Martha must have felt at the death of their brother. But, as in the case of Lazarus, Jesus does not remain in the tomb. Instead, Jesus fulfills his and the Father’s salvitic plan by trampling down death and overcoming the grave. And, Jesus assures us, as he did with Mary and Martha, that those who believe in him, even if they die, they shall live forever. So, unlike us mortal creatures, no amount of our love can save us or those whom we love. But those who believe in Christ, though they were dead, yet shall they live and have eternal life. Thanks be to God.

Richard Thames

Thursday, April 11, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 26:1-16

Psalm 131, 132, [133] * 140, 142

Epistle: Romans 11:1-12

Gospel: John 10:19-42

“Speak to them all the words that I command you; do not hold back a word.” Jeremiah 26:2b

Words. Words. Words. These readings today are so full of words — and about words. Words from the prophet Jeremiah, telling his people to amend their ways. Words from the writer of Romans, reminding readers what “scripture says of Elijah.” Words from the psalmist, telling the Lord, “You are my God.” And words from John’s Gospel recalling, “Again the Jews were divided because of these words.”

My 18-month old grandson Teddy is beginning to learn words, delighting in realizing what hot, light, mama, dada, and car mean. The just-turned-six twins George and Arthur are presently discovering how to read and write words, excited to distinguish between he and she, purple and gold, bright and dull. The more advanced nine-year old Emmeline is rehearsing words to songs that she will sing in Annie.

Words are powerful: they can inform and mislead, build up or tear down, cheer or depress. But what do words have to do with our observance of Lent? Maybe everything! Lent itself is a word, (which means “spring”), and in this season, we give up the word “Alleluia,” as we take on words like fasting, penance, sacrifice. 

What are words? Some philosophers like Judith Butler suggest that language acts as a form of social action and has the ability to effect reality. For instance, after the Confession in our Eucharist service, Fr. Tommie pronounces words of absolution, signaling God’s forgiving us of our private and communal sins. In the first chapter of Genesis, we hear that when the earth was a formless void surrounded by darkness, God spoke words to create light, and then the sky, waters, land, and earth’s creatures. The famous opening to John 1 echoes the beginning of Genesis: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

Emily Dickinson utters some great lines in William Luce’s play The Belle of Amherst: “Words are my life. I look at words as if they were entities, sacred beings. There are words to which I lift my hat when I see them sitting on a page.”

I think one of my Lenten disciplines this year will be to think more about words, and which ones are to me those “sacred beings” that take on a life of their own. Which ones stir me and activate my feelings of empathy? Which ones enlighten and illuminate my brain? Which ones might I revere and hold close to my soul? 

Barbara Sloan

Wednesday, April 10, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 25:30-38

Psalm 119:145-176 * 128, 129, 130

Epistle: Romans 10: 14-21

Gospel: John 10:1-18

The reading from Romans 10 today resonates with me in several ways. I grew up in an evangelical household, and quoting scripture was very common. The minute I started this reading, I remembered the words: there is no difference between Jew and Greek in the eyes of the Lord, and all who call on him shall be saved; “faith comes from hearing and hearing comes through the word of God.” I do not remember much else about this passage, other than learning at an early age that God loved me and everyone else too. I remember Father Tommie’s lesson when he said it is okay to make America great, as long as the mindset is not to make ONLY America Great, or no one else can receive the benefits from living in America. I think of those who have little, and whose lives are harder due to laws created by those who have money and power, and are obsessed with having more. 

The end of this chapter takes us back to Isaiah, and the prophet states “I have been found by those who did not seek me; and I have shown myself to those who did not ask for me.” However, of Israel he says, “All day long I have held out my hands to a disobedient and contrary people.” Some days are discouraging, and it appears as though it will always be the rich getting more, and preventing the least of those in our communities from moving forward.

My faith teaches me God loves all of us, regardless of how rich or poor, the color of our skin, our gender, or sexuality, or how high we are esteemed in society. None of this matters; we are all children of God! St Andrew’s worship and our members help me remember this unconditional love, as we go to the rail together to take of God’s Body and Blood. I pray I will show God’s love to someone who is not looking for it, and did not ask for it, because that is exactly how I found it. God’s Peace.

Angela Williamson

Tuesday, April 9, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 25:8-17

Psalm [120], 121, 122, 123 * 124, 125, 126, [127]

Epistle: Romans 10: 1-13

Gospel: John 9:18-41

This year’s Education for Ministry (EfM) group is working through the theological practice of integrating belief, behavior and doctrine. EfM provides resources and processes that are intended to support a person in living authentically as a Christian. Authenticity involves coherence, wholeness, integrity, and honesty. Something is incoherent whenever a dissonance occurs between thought and actions or even between two incongruent ideas. The crux of our conversation required us to take a deep dive into the gaps.

The subject matter for this discussion was Diana Butler Bass’s work Christianity after Religion: The End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening. The power quote here is “Accordingly, Christianity is moving from being a religion about God to being an experience of God.”

A. M. Allchin, in Participation in God: A Forgotten Strand in Anglican Tradition, concluded his introduction with: “To become fully human, to realise our human potential, we need to enter into communion with our Creator… There is nothing static about this communion. It is the beginning of a process which will lead us through death into life, life in this world and life in the world beyond this one, an eternal process into the inexhaustible riches of the divine life.”

 We identified and connected the different gaps we presently experience or have known sometime in our lives:

The Belief Gap: the separation between orthodox teachings and personal belief,

The Practice Gap: the separation between orthopraxis (correct conduct, both ethical and liturgical) and personal behavior and practices, and

The Congruence Gap: the disjunction between personal beliefs and personal action.

As a result of our conversation, we concluded our session with the following collect:

Dear God, who gives us the ability to reason and the heart to feel, Thank you for this space to grapple with the gaps and contradictions in life and faith, and the slippery rock that puts us in the river. Help us to clearly discern what is most important, so that we may nourish our community and be ourselves nourished. Amen.

Michael Barnett, Linda Foster, Betty Frey, Josh Goodin, Ben Johnson, Karen McIntyre, Ann Mitchell, Robin Ousley, Martha Jane Patton, Bridget Tytler, Tommy McGlothlin, Gerald Wildes

Monday, April 8, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 24:1-10

Psalm 31 * 35

Epistle: Romans 9:19-31

Gospel: John 9:1-17 

Saint John’s Gospel story of the man “blind from birth” shows us how weak our faith may be. Even as the disciples see this man, he must be the product of sin. Either the blind man’s parents or he himself have strayed from God. Jesus responds to their sin theory, “He was born blind that God’s work might be revealed in him.”

“‘Because of his blindness you will see God work a miracle for him. As long as it is day we must do what the one who sent me wants me to do… While I am in the world, I am the light of the world’… Jesus spat on the ground. He made some mud and smeared it on the man’s eyes.” Then Jesus said, “Go wash off the mud in the Siloam (meaning - One who is sent) Pool. When he had washed off the mud, he could see.”

In this reading we find mystery, miracle, and hidden meaning. We have a Teacher who must reveal His Light to a wondering, yet an amazed people. Jesus was surely continually doubted and challenged. 

Bringing these ideas into today, are we blind to what Jesus is trying to bring to us? Just as there are answers and comfort found in this reading, we find as much mystery. We hope to understand with one reading, but each time we read, a new slice of wisdom seems to appear for us, as a discerning partner. Miracles entice our interest. We are taken to many places in our mind and continue to see each day in a new way. A great gift this Jesus is to our lives.

Dear Jesus, be with us and open our hearts to your mystery and wisdom. Then continue bathing our faith in your love. Amen.

P. B.

Sunday, April 7, 2019

Old Testament: Isaiah 43:16-21

Psalm 126 

Epistle: Philippians 3:4b-14

Gospel: John 12:1-8

In Philippians 3:4-14, we are told that “we have suffered the loss of all things, … not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith.” How do we understand, experience, and more importantly, PRACTICE our faith? How do we follow Jesus and what does that mean?

One thought that has always “scared” me with my faith is that God is a punisher, that he is judging me on earth and in death with all of the “shoulds, the coulds, the didn’t dos”, threats of being Hellbound upon my death. The Old Testament is full of these examples: of killing masses, punishing, offering of children, etc. It takes us through various states of consciousness and history to be judgmental, accusatory, fearful, blaming, and egocentric. Reading the Bible would only validate my unworthiness and confirm that I would never be able to “gain Christ.” Richard Rohr, OFM suggests we “change the seer and not the text.”  

Christianity is saying that we need a model, an exemplar, a promise, and a guarantee (Pauline letters). For us, the living model is Jesus, the “Exemplary Cause,” which is how Jesus “causes” our salvation. Some may think this means his model just “rubs off on us,” but our salvation is not based upon moral behavior or joining the right group, but a realization of who we are right now, in this world. It could be said our salvation is not a question of IF, but more like WHEN. One could also say that as Christians, we may have become more obsessed with what we believe and sitting in church rather than how we live. In Jesus, I see an invitation to join a movement that is about demonstrating God’s goodness to the world. He sent us into the world to make us disciples (Matthew). There is a passage in Corinthians that says, “He became what we do to one another in order to free us from the lie of punishing and scapegoating each other. He became the crucified, so we would stop crucifying. He refused to transmit his pain unto others.”  

This Lenten season, we can choose to  take up the cross and follow Him (Matthew 16:24). As we are reminded of the crucified Christ, we can choose to soften our hearts toward suffering, hatred and violence, as well as reflect on the lives of the people before us, that learned to act beyond their self interest and for the good of the world. Rohr says it best: “Those who agree to carry and love what God loves, both the good and the bad, and to pay the price for its reconciliation within themselves — these are the followers of Jesus Christ.”  So, as we began, we have all suffered and lost, but who amongst us, have experienced the faith needed to not just FOLLOW Christ, but to walk with and next to Christ, as his Hands and Feet?

Betty Frey

Saturday, April 6, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 23:9-15

Psalm 107:33-43, 108:1-6 (7-13) * 33

Epistle: Romans 9:1-18

Gospel: John 6:60-71

Wow the readings for today are so powerful and so hard to wrap my mind around. So, I will concentrate on a short passage form the gospel. “Jesus said to the twelve, ‘Will you also go away?’ Simon Peter answered him, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life; and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God.’” (John 6:67-69 RSV)

Simon Peter was a true believer! Not like the others who would go away and later return after Jesus was crucified, finally convinced to believe. And not like Judas who would pretend to believe and then betray Jesus. Peter cannot quit Jesus! Jesus is not easy to live with. He does things and says things that blow Peter’s mind. But there is nowhere else he wants to be, no one else that says the things that satisfy Peter’s deepest needs. He has seen Jesus’s character. Jesus talks the talk, then walks the walk. Jesus is the “Holy One of God.” He is the “Sinless One” “to whom shall we go?”

This is what I want for the family of St. Andrew’s: to love Jesus the way that Simon Peter does. And to be this best definition of a Christian: “someone who cannot quit.” You have found too much, you have learned too much of life. You have been ministered to and fed and strengthened by the Lord Jesus. You know the comfort of his presence. You can never give him up.

Let us contemplate to which group we belong. Does your heart say to him, “Lord, to whom can I go? I don’t always understand, I can’t always figure you out, I don’t always like what you do, but Lord, to whom can I go?” That is the heart that he is looking for. If you have to say, “I belong to the first group who wants to go away. I’m afraid,” there is still hope. You can ask Jesus to teach you and open your eyes and lead you on. You can start right now to obey what he tells you to do.

Theresa Hester

Friday, April 5, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 23:1-18

Psalm 95, 102 * 107:1-32 

Epistle: Romans 8:28-39

Gospel: John 6:52-59

“Lord, hear my prayer, and let my cry come before you; hide not your face from me in the day of my trouble. Incline your ear to me; when I call, make haste to answer me, For my days drift away like smoke, and my bones are hot as burning coals.” Psalm 102: 1-3

The author of this Psalm is uncertain. However, many believe that David wrote these passages at a time when Israel was held in captivity. In fact, it is often referred to as the “Prayer of the afflicted.” With beauty and elegance, he speaks about the suffering of these people who are desperately beseeching help from God.

They are imploring him to grant a swift resolution to their problems. Like the Nation of Israel, most of us turn to God when we find ourselves in unbearable situations — even in less-frightening difficulties. We know that we cannot handle all of life’s hardships alone.

I love these poetic verses from the Prayers of the People, which echo this psalm:  “Lord in your mercy. Hear our prayer.” They affirm my Anglican truth.

Beverly Keith

Thursday, April 4, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 22:13-23

Psalm 69:1-23 (24-30) 31-38 * 73 

Epistle: Romans 8:12-27

Gospel: John 6:41-51

From Psalm 73

As I watch the news and read the newspaper everyday, I sometimes despair. Reading Psalm 73, I was comforted to know that I wasn’t alone in this. Three-thousand years ago, the psalmist described people and conditions that are so appropriate for our times.

“I… saw the prosperity of the wicked: for they suffer no pain and their bodies are sleek and sound. In the misfortunes of others they have no share... they wear their pride like a necklace and wrap their violence around them like a cloak… Their iniquity comes from gross minds… they scoff and speak maliciously. Out of their haughtiness, they plan oppression. They set their mouths against the heavens and their evil speech runs through the world. And so the people turn to them and find in them no fault.”

Many of us can see the evils and pettiness of the world and world leaders. Many of us rail against the wickedness we see, and despair.

We wonder what we can do to counteract this descent into evil. Each of us can do very little, but the little we can do individually can make a difference. We must remember, “everybody counts or nobody counts.” We must realize that we can do anything if we all try to make the world better in our own ways.

What can we do? We should not speak badly of others. We can use the old southern term “bless his heart,” but truly mean it, and pray that the evil one we rail against will be touched. God can do many things. He can bring down the sinner or he can touch his heart so that he can feel the pain of others. Let us pray.

Let us do good to others. Let us help feed the hungry, clothe the cold and naked, comfort those who despair, shelter those who have no homes, tell the lonely of the love of God. If each of us does these things to just one person, united we can make a difference.

We need to speak good, not evil. If we spread love, not hate and fear, we can improve the world.  During Lent, let us each try to give something back to the world, so that when we ourselves fail  God (and we will), we can say, “I tried, and if I helped one person, I have helped you. I have made the world a little less evil.”

Barbara Patterson

Wednesday, April 3, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 18:1-11

Psalm 101, 109:1-4 (5-19) 20-30 * 119:121-144 

Epistle: Romans 8:1-11

Gospel: John 6:27-40

Can I Get a Witness?!

Many lessons in the Old and New Testaments, and the reading from John today, make mention of the prophet, Moses — and for good reason. The Moses of the first five books of the Old Testament (The Pentateuch) foretells the coming of the Lord, Jesus the Christ, thousands of years or so before His ministry begins. Yet, the witness of Moses somehow gets lost among the Pharisees by the time that Jesus actually appears in the flesh. He performs miracles, restores life to a dead man, walks on water, heals the sick. Jesus the Superstar.

By the time of Jesus’s ministry not only do we have the witness of Moses and then all the great miracles, but there is the witness of the Old Testament scriptures themselves. These men of the ‘old way’ in John’s gospel want incontrovertible proof that Jesus is who he claims to be. “You search the Scriptures, for in them you think you have eternal life; and these are they which testify of Me.”

These Pharisees were devout men of the Word of God. They were highly intelligent men who knew the Old Testament scriptures like no others. They scrutinized every sentence of scripture; yet they were still strangers to the truth it contained. It is one thing to have the Word in our heads; it is another thing to have it in our hearts.

Jesus identifies the problem in reaching wrong conclusions regarding His identity in verse thirty-six “But I said to you that you have seen me and yet do not believe.” In other words, you are unwilling, hard-headed, and obstinate. Even today, if someone doesn’t believe something, we sometimes think that what they need is more information. But Jesus says the problem is not a lack of information, but an unwillingness to face the truth.

The Jews thought that in their knowledge of Scripture they had eternal life. But they missed Jesus! The point of the entire Bible is to lead us to Jesus. The testimony of the witnesses to Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, is solid. Jesus spoke these words so that “you may be saved” (John 5:34). Come to Him so that you may have eternal life.

Danny Calloway

Tuesday, April 2, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 17:19-27

Psalm 97, 99, [100] * 94, [95] 

Epistle: Romans 7:13-25

Gospel: John 6:16-27

“…do not carry a burden out of your houses on the Sabbath or do any work, but keep the Sabbath day holy.” Jeremiah 17: 25

It was written in stone as the fourth of Ten Commandments, “…Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy…” What is “the Sabbath?” The word itself comes from the Hebrew word “shavat” which is “to rest” and the basic meaning is to stop and set apart. 

According to Exodus 20: 8-11, the Sabbath is the seventh day of the week on which the Israelites were to rest in remembrance of God’s six day creation of the universe, and then “rested” on the seventh day. When, and why did the Sabbath, now referred to as “The Lord’s Day,” change from the 7th day to the 1st day of the week? To answer that, we must look at the first few hundred years after Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection. 

During the very first century A.D., Paul and other apostles went about preaching the gospel. Paul traveled widely throughout the eastern Roman Empire and believed in bringing the “good news” to Jews and non-Jews alike, despite the fact that during this period of time, Christianity was an “illegal religion.”  

In the Roman Empire, Sunday was a day of rest. Many in the New Testament Church continued with the Old Testament practices, including the Sabbath. Other early believers wanted to distance themselves from Judaism and “blend in” to the society around them. In 321 A. D. an edict was put into place by Constantine I that legalized Christianity and protected the first day of the week, thus becoming the first “Sunday law.”  

During the Reformation period, Sabbath laws were enacted in England. These laws filtered over to the American colonies and placed on the statute books of all the colonies. Sabbath laws in America were still in place as late as the 20th century. Constantine’s edict and the Sabbath laws were a matter of religious legalism. 

Sunday did not replace Saturday as the Sabbath. The Lord’s Day is a time when believers gather to commemorate His resurrection, which occurred on the first day of the week. Paul wrote in to Romans 7:22 “For I delight in the law of God according to the inward man.” The Sabbath or Lord’s Day is not what one does on the outside; it’s about who one trusts on the inside.

Rhonda Johnston

Monday, April 1, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 16:10-21

Psalm 89:1-18 * 89:19-52 

Epistle: Romans 7:1-12

Gospel: John 6:1-15

The loaves and fishes story has always been a favorite of mine, going back to my Baptist Sunday School days where we cut out fish and loaves from construction paper and filled up baskets, also made of construction paper. 

Several years ago, I was part of the team serving lunch in Community Kitchens on the Memorial Day holiday. We’d planned on the usual small crowd, and had food prepared for sixty. Instead, we discovered a line of over a hundred, which continued to grow, around the block. We’d run out of food. We pooled our pocket money, got some sandwiches, tried to stretch those into enough meals, but the line continued to grow. We began opening random cans in the pantry, and no two plates looked alike. Just when we were about to give up hope, we discovered bags of chicken nuggets in the freezer, and we loaded up a lot of sheet pans and kept the oven going until everyone was fed. When the floors were mopped and we were in the quiet, stillness of the kitchen, we looked a small bowl of chicken nuggets. We’d fed the multitudes and had some leftover. We were all aware of the abundance on the table and the grace of that moment.

The whole concept of abundance has been on my mind lately. I’ve gone wide-open cleaning out closets, clearing out the basement, and moving myself into a more simple way of life. It’s stuff that seems to have been there forever. I forgot what all was there. I took it for granted. There was sometimes an odd sense of security in this mess (which, arguably, could come close to being called a “hoard.”). I got to thinking about my own life, and how God has blessed me with abundance; yet I sometimes lost sight of it, and often took it all for granted. 

Lent has a way of helping with that. On Ash Wednesday, I reflect, and begin my Lenten journey. I get smudged with ashes. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Just like I am undertaking a massive house-cleaning of my mid-century brick rancher, Lent is a time for spiritual house-cleaning as well. I sweep. I vacuum. I mop. I come face to face with the abundance in my life, and carefully examine it, and examine myself. And out of this abundance, I offer God my dust. My messy, sacred, holy dust. 

“O God, grant us a sense of your timing. In this season of short days and long nights, of grey and white and cold, teach us the lessons of beginnings; that such waitings and endings may be the starting place, a planting of seeds which bring to birth what is ready to be born something right and just and different, a new song, a deeper relationship, a fuller love in the fullness of your time.” Ted Loder, Guerillas of Grace

Gerald Wildes

Sunday, March 31, 2019

Old Testament: Joshua 5:9-12

Psalm 32 

Epistle: 2 Corinthians 5:16-21

Gospel: Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

I was delighted to be assigned Luke 15: 11-32 for my meditation. This famous text, often called the Parable of the Prodigal Son, is my favorite in the Bible. In fact, I think it is the most beautiful story ever written. It is often read as the story of misbehaving brothers, but the point of the story is about neither of them. It is the story about the love of the father, and of course, the father is God. The way the father treats the two sons is the way that God treats us. His love for His children is unconditional.

Both brothers behave badly. The younger one wants to go to a far country. And he does so because remarkably, the father gives him his inheritance and allows him to leave. We are not surprised that the son parties, runs out of money, and finds himself in the most humiliating situation of all for a Jew — hungry and in a pig field. Then he remembers home and decides to return and ask his father to treat him as one of his hired hands. Some exegetes think that the son is not really repentant, just desperate, but I believe that his confession is sincere. Actually though, it does not even matter, because this story is about the father, not the son. The father runs to meet him and does not pay attention to his apology. He tells the servants to get the finest robe, a ring, and sandals for his son. A feast is prepared and they celebrate because his son was dead, but is alive again.

The elder son is in the field and inquires about the music and dancing. He is furious that his wasteful brother is being treated royally. Just as the father went out to meet his younger son, he goes out to see his elder son. The father explains that everything he has belongs to the elder son, too. He pleads with the angry and self-righteous son to join in the celebration of “his brother.”  We do not know if the elder son joins the celebration. Jesus does not tell us. 

I was fortunate to see Rembrandt’s painting “The Return of the  Prodigal Son” in the Hermitage in St. Petersburg. In the painting the father gazes down on his son and has his hands on his son’s shoulders. The son is humbly kneeling in front of the father and the tenderness between them is unforgettable. As I looked at it I cried and did not want the holy moment to end. All of us are unconditionally loved by God, and we all are forgiven, just like the sons. This is the incredible truth. We all have been lost and now are found. Let us ponder this  indescribable love during Lent. Accept and celebrate the gift.

Rebecca Drake

Saturday, March 30, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 13:1-11

Psalm 87, 90 * 136 

Epistle: Romans 6:12-23

Gospel: John 8:47-59

I recently read a book called The Power of Full Engagement as part of a leadership book club. It is an older book, but still very relevant. One of the quotes that came from the book struck a chord with me: “Is the life you are living worth the things you are giving up to live it?” My answer... I don’t know, sometimes?  I realized that my focus isn’t always directed on the right things: on those things that are most important, that I value the most. Like many people, I get so caught up in my day-to-day living that I feel like I am on autopilot and go through the motions of life without thinking about why I am living this way and the choices I make. Is my life worth the things I am giving up to do what I am doing? I have become a slave to the daily grind.

In Romans 6: 16-23, Paul talks about slavery to sin. Paul reminds us that through God’s Grace we have been set free from sin as long as we obey God and live a Godly life. In this way, the thing we give up to live a life with God is death. When our choices in life are driven by our desire to obey God, we are sure to be making decisions that not only benefit us, but benefit others as well. Another quote that came from the book is that “Value is a roadmap to action.” By valuing our relationship with God and by obeying God, we can use this as roadmap for our daily lives and make choices to live a life that glorifies God. 

God recognizes that we are human and flawed. It is through His Grace that we are forgiven and given chance after chance to get it right. However, we must be aware of our values and our desire to live a Godly life in order to accept God’s Grace. So is your life worth the things you are giving up to live it? Are you using your values to direct your life? Are you a slave to things that take you away from God? Fortunately there is time to refocus our values and change our direction and use God as our roadmap because there is nothing more valuable than God’s Grace and eternal life. 

Mallie Steele

Friday, March 29, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 11:1-8, 14-20

Psalm 95, 88 * 91, 92 

Epistle: Romans 6:1-11

Gospel: John 8:33-47

In the six years I’ve been writing Lenten meditations, this is the first time none of the lectionary selections that fell my way greeted me with a clear invitation to engagement. What struck me immediately with this group were the calls for retribution, considerations of death, sin, and cries from the pit of tribulation.

Most comfortable with the Gospel, though, I read all of John 8, putting the reading in broader context.  Finally — an invitation to engagement delivered. Earlier in chapter 8, Jesus tells the chief priests and Pharisees, “you are of this world, I am not of this world” (23). In verses 31 and 32, Jesus says that following him will result in knowing the truth and “the truth will make you free.” Countering that as descendants Abraham they are bound by no one, Jesus’s inquisitors insist that they have no need of being made free.

Jesus emphatically makes clear, however, that the devil — not God — is their father and that they are bound by their own sin. Were they descendants of Abraham, they would listen to the truth as Abraham did. However, opting to believe the devil’s lies, they cannot hear Jesus’s word; He asserts, “you look for an opportunity to kill me, because there is no place in you for my word.”

Here, then, is the call for invitation. And it is not what I was originally looking for; it is not the text inviting me in. It is the obligation on my part to make room in me for the text. It is my place to make the invitation, to make the room, for his truth. So, too, must I learn to make room for the frustration of the Hebrew prophet who mourns over Jerusalem and Judea, for the Psalmist desperate to have God deliver him from his enemies, for the apostle struggling to find the argument, the rhetoric, the reasoning, that will communicate the truth of Jesus in a world accustomed to seeking validation in physical wealth and political power. But Jesus is “not of this world.” A simple lesson. A hard lesson. A humbling lesson. A Lenten lesson.

Susan Hagen

Thursday, March 28, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 8:18-9:6

Psalm [8] or 42, 43 * 85, 86

Epistle: Romans 5:12-21

Gospel: John 8:21-32

“Hear, a noise! Listen, it is coming — a great commotion from the land of the north to make the cities of Judah a desolation, a lair of jackals. I know, O LORD, that the way of human beings is not in their control, that mortals as they walk cannot direct their steps. Correct me, O LORD, but in just measure; not in your anger, or you will bring me to nothing.” Jeremiah 10:22-24 (NRSV)

In colonial Puritan New England major days in community life, like election day, often were marked by a public sermon. The minister would bemoan how far the community had strayed, and he would call all to remember that earlier time, who they had set out to be, and would call them to return to the purity of those origins, promising coming woe if not. This is called a “jeremiad,” named for Jeremiah because it shares both his sense of lamentation, and his fiery condemnation of the community’s sin.

The American jeremiad doesn’t stop with the Puritans. Jeremiads North and South were preached around the Civil War. Jeremiads attended the Great War, and the cold war. Current events have brought the jeremiad back with a vengeance. They are everywhere — television, radio, social media. If I’m honest, I must admit I may have written one or two myself…

It is an easy and satisfying form to adopt. Pack it with nostalgic longing for a world where people and things were better than now, and mourn how things have fallen. Upbraid those responsible for the fall, too, pouring denunciation and invective on all corrupt or stupid enough to turn this country away from our original values and prelapsarian innocence. That’s what jeremiads do.

Jeremiah, as in today’s passage, not so much. Our jeremiads accuse, convict, and damn — our fingers point, and our voices call for punishment less than predicting it. Jeremiah has strong words to say to his countrymen, too. His “thus saith the Lord” lays open corruption, and promises punishment. But Jeremiah includes himself in when he announces the punishment and the flaws. “Truly, this is my punishment, and I must bear it.” God’s wrath is coming, and Jeremiah places himself among the people, not over against them. He is part of them, even if he is the prophet of the Lord. We need to learn to see like Jeremiah does here. We are not separate from those we accuse, whatever the reason. They are not other at all, and as part of our community, or country, or world, we are punished with them, and we cannot be redeemed without them. Our sermons are for them, yes, but no less than they are for ourselves.

Ed Higginbotham

Wednesday, March 27, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 8:18-9:6

Psalm 119: 97-120, * 81, 82

Epistle: Romans 5:1-11

Gospel: John 8:12-20

In the Gospel of John, Jesus spoke to them saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” Jesus made this statement to the “people” in the temple while teaching. 

 The Pharisees were also present and of course had to try and trip him up, saying he is the only one saying these things about himself. They could not accept it, being more in the legal transactional mode of thinking rather than transformative spiritual — and requiring witnesses to these statements. Jesus was having none of it, and was quick to tell the Pharisees they were judging him by human standards when he is not judging anyone. Also he pointed out that they did not know him, for if they did they would know who his father is.  

Oh, to be a fly on the wall in the Temple that day, to see a country Rabbi schooling the legalistic Pharisees. I’m sure more than one of the people in attendance that day ran home and started saying to a spouse, “Miriam/Isaac you won’t believe what happened in the Temple today. This country Rabbi schooled those Pharisees, and boy, were they hopping mad. He had better watch it cause they don’t play!”

 In a way, this is one step in Jesus’s journey to the cross to become the light of the world. Jesus’s journey to the cross was done so that we don’t have to walk in darkness. Be a light unto the world! Be a transformative influence, emulating Jesus’s life in doing good works. Being the hands and feet of Christ is “The Way,” not the legalistic, transactional worship touted by so many of the Christian churches of our day, or the Temple Pharisees in Jesus’s Day. Change is in the wind. Be the wind.  

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

Ty Walling

Tuesday, March 26, 2019

Old Testament: Jeremiah 7:21-34

Psalm 78: 1-39 * 78: 40-72

Epistle: Romans 4: 13-25

Gospel: John 7: 37-52

There are days when hope wanes as quickly as the winter’s afternoon sun, leaving us in what seems to be a long, cold, dark night. While all may seemingly be lost, we know from God’s Word that his promises outshine the darkest of nights. We are reminded that God’s promise of inheritance of the world to Abraham did not come through law, but by faith. It is in our faith that that we seek salvation and it is by faith that we find God’s love for all.

The promise of grace given by God shall be used as an instrument to others in need, not to forsake or abandon. As believers, our faith allows God’s grace to shine brighter. Suddenly, the hope that was seemingly lost is now illuminated. May our faith in God act as beacon in the night, helping us find hope and showing God’s mercy for all people.

Richard Jacks