Baptism can be overlooked as an individual act, something that happens to one person.  But in fact, baptism is the act of joining the entire community of believers and the community of the Triune God.  On this river of life we join together to make a difference in the world.

Vicar Neal Cannon; Sixth Sunday of Easter, year C; texts: John 5:1-9, Acts 16:9-15, Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5

One summer, we rented an RV.  I was in early high school and our family decided we we’re going to see some of the country.  Apparently our Suburban with eight seats wasn’t big enough for our family of six for this kind of road trip.  In fairness, we’re a big family, we needed the elbow room.

We did a lot of things on this trip.  We camped in various locations, we visited with extended family, and we saw a lot of touristy sites.  One of those sites that we saw was Lake Itasca State Park here in Minnesota.  For those of you who aren’t familiar, Lake Itasca State Park has a special claim that makes it a popular tourist destination.

Lake Itasca is known for being the headwaters to the mighty Mississippi River.  So when the Cannon clan arrived in our RV, we jumped out in the middle of July, and hiked a short path to the headwaters of one of the largest and most important rivers in the United States.

And I remember, coming out of a little clearing seeing something only slightly better than a creek, a small plaque noting the creek’s significance, and being WILDLY disappointed.  This particular creek made Minnehaha Creek look like a roaring rapid! And I have to admit, after spending about two minutes there my first thought was, when can we go back to the RV?

Perhaps I missed the significance of this particular headwater.

You see, what you have to appreciate about the headwaters of the Mississippi, is that this little creek, this trickle, this seemingly insignificant water, joins another creek, and another creek, and then another creek.  And then this creek becomes a river. And then many other rivers join this river until at its greatest point the Mississippi is seven miles wide, and continues flowing south until it reaches the Gulf of Mexico.

Now think about that for a minute.  What once starts out as an insignificant little creek becomes one of the most important waterways in all of North America.  This creek that begins as something you could overlook or pass by becomes something of staggering beauty and importance.  This creek becomes a river that brings water and life to most of this country.  Through this little creek, you are connected to the ocean, and thus the entire world.

Still, it’s easy to miss the significance of something with a small beginning.  The sad reality is that like my reaction to the Mississippi River’s headwater we in the church often miss the significance of baptism.

In many churches baptism is viewed as a cute ritual or rite of passage, but often we miss baptism’s real importance and meaning.  For example, in baptism we make promises to the baptized, but rarely reflect on the importance of those words.  Congregants make promises to support the baptized in faith, but often never speak to the baptized again.  Baptismal sponsors and parents promise to help raise the child in faith, but how often do we remember to celebrate a baptismal anniversary?  As church leaders we hand parents a certificate, but too often we never find ways to support families in faith formation.

In this sense, baptism is viewed in the same way I regarded the headwaters of the Mississippi.  We’re not impressed.  But like the mighty Mississippi, our baptism starts as something small and easy to overlook, but becomes something far greater.

Lydia’s baptismal journey, for example, begins with one seemingly insignificant encounter.  When Paul and his companions arrive in Macedonia, they come to a group of women, one of whom was Lydia.  Acts tells us that God opens Lydia’s heart to the Word of God, and she is baptized.  Right away Lydia says, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.”

Think about this rapid transformation.  Lydia, a woman on the outskirts of the city who is possibly a widow, encounters two strangers who proclaim a foreign gospel to her.  In this encounter God opens her heart to hear the Gospel and when she is baptized she immediately welcomes these strange men into her home.

Like one creek that flows into another creek and one river that flows into another river, in baptism Lydia immediately enters into a new community that supports her and she in turn supports back.  In this same baptism, God opens Lydia’s heart to the Word of God, to Jesus, and is given the Holy Spirit.  In other words, in baptism Lydia is in community with the Triune God and the entire body of Christ.

In the same way, in our baptismal journey we begin as individuals and leave as a community.  We begin as strangers with nothing in common and we leave as a family connected through Jesus Christ.  And like the Mississippi these baptismal waters bring us together and connect us to the world.

Think of it this way, today Tate Kaufenberg will be baptized as a child of God.  And in this baptism, this community will promise to uphold her in faith.  So much so that wherever Tate goes, no matter what she does, our promise is to support her with all the love, wisdom, and guidance that this community and the Triune God offer.

As such, she joins all baptized children of God who gather to worship God and to make a positive difference in not only this community but in all parts of the world.

This communal influence is radically important, especially in a society such as ours that values me, myself, and I above all else, because it’s also a society that has forgotten the value of ‘us,’ the value of community.

This is a society that has forgotten that we all need the collective love, wisdom, and guidance of those who have gone before us. We need people who say yes and no to us.  We need others to love and care for us when we’re down.  We can’t operate on our own.  Without community, we are on an incredibly lonely journey, like a creek that never connects to a larger body of water.

But in baptism, in community, we are shaped by and help to shape those around us because in baptism, we join a community that gives life to a neighborhood that gives life to a city that gives life to a region that gives life to our world.  And it’s in this baptism we join the headwaters of Triune God, where all healing and life giving water comes from.

As Revelation tells us, “Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city.”

I sometimes laugh when we compare this image to the image of our baptism because it doesn’t seem like it measures up.  One could easily point out that our baptismal water doesn’t come a crystal river, but from the sink in the sacristy.  It’s not as if it were chipped away from the purest ice on the top of a mountain, and then hauled down by Franciscan monks and delivered directly to Mount Olive.

The truth is that this water begins as ordinary water.

But the beauty about baptism is that we claim that the water that comes from our sacristy sink is in fact the same water described in Revelation.  In baptism, it’s not ordinary water because as Luther says, “it is water enclosed in God’s command and connected to God’s word.” It’s water that’s connected to the headwater of the Lamb because it is connected to God.  And so in these words that Pastor Joseph will say to Tate, and to Tate’s Family, and to this congregation, we find that this is in fact the water that gives life to the world.

Revelation goes on to tell us that this water feeds the tree of life with leaves that bring healing to the nations.  And never more intimately is that healing found than in our gospel text today in the story of a man who had been ill, presumably paralyzed, for thirty eight years.

Now, there are a couple interesting points about this story. The first is that this story takes place at Beth-zatha, which in Hebrew means House of Nets.  But some manuscripts actually have Bethesda, which means, House of Mercy.

The second, is that it’s important to remember that at this time people with disability were stigmatized because it was believed that people became ill because of sin or wrongdoing that they or their family had committed.

So whatever the translation we use, it is clear that people came to the House of Mercy to be healed not only in body, but also to receive mercy and grace in the waters that were found there.

This is why it’s ironic and cruel that this man, who is lying on a mat and seeking healing in the House of Mercy, is bypassed, shoved out of the way, and disregarded time and time again; unable to even get into the waters that he believed would bring him healing. That is of course, until Jesus comes.

When Jesus comes he appears to be the only one who notices this man.  Jesus is the only one that cares enough to ask him, “Do you want to be made well?”

“Do you want to be made well?”  What a strange question to ask to someone who has been ill for thirty eight years.  The answer seems so obvious.  Of course he wants to be made well!  But the man essentially responds by saying, “I can’t get to the water.”

Jesus doesn’t waste time.  He says, “Stand up, take your mat and walk.”  And the man does.

What I find fascinating about this story, is that the man never gets in the water at the House of Mercy but the water of life comes to him.  This man never knows who Jesus is, he never even makes a confession.  Still, the water of life that flows from the Lamb comes and brings mercy to this paralyzed man.

This same water of life comes to us in our baptism.  The same healing and mercy and love come to us before we’re ever able to make a confession and before we even know who Jesus is; before we know Jesus, Jesus in community with us.

In Tate’s baptism today and in all of our baptisms, the grace and mercy of God comes to us in seemingly insignificant ways.  And whether it’s the headwaters of the Mississippi or the kitchen sink from Mount Olive, this water does incredible things.  Like a creek that joins a river that joins the ocean in this baptism, we are joined together with this community that promises us love, guidance, and support. And what’s more, the Triune God comes to us and brings mercy and healing in these waters.

Baptism is an incredible gift, and I wonder what it would be like if we treated baptism not as the day we received a plaque but the day we set out on the mighty headwaters of the Lamb of God?

Because after all, this is the day that Jesus Christ comes to us and removes our shame and disgrace and instead clothes us with mercy and grace.  This is the day we join others and set out on an incredible journey to bring healing to our communities and yes, this entire world.

This is the day we remember that baptism is not ordinary water.  This water is water that is enclosed with God’s command, and connected with God’s word; this is the river of life.

And on the river we surround others with the Word of God and the community of God.  And on the river, the word of God and the community of God surround us also.

Thanks be to God.

The risen Christ whom we proclaim is Lord of all things has the only authority over the scope of God’s salvation, and claims that the Triune God’s plan is to make all things new in him.  Our job is to love the world as Christ, and proclaim this Good News to all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen, Fifth Sunday of Easter C; texts: Acts 11:1-18; Revelation 21:1-6; John 13:31-35

Sisters and brothers, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

The post-Easter followers of Jesus were continually confronted with changing realities, with experiences that profoundly shifted their world-view, their faith, the foundation of their lives.  Realities such as the fact that the beloved Master whom they saw killed was now alive.  Experiences which taught that things they believed to be true about God and the world were in fact not true, such as, the power to kill someone isn’t really as strong as they thought.  And they were repeatedly forced to recognize that they still had a lot to learn about the love of God revealed in the risen Jesus, a lot to learn about what God’s intentions for them and for the world were.

An example of this is our story from Acts today.  It’s the story of Peter defending his decision to eat with non-Jews, Gentiles, and in fact to welcome them into the church through baptism.  The event actually happens in chapter 10.  Today’s story from chapter 11 is Peter re-telling what happened and why to the leaders of the church in Jerusalem.

Peter describes yet another earth-shaking, faith-changing reality they all now had to face: God intends the kingdom, the rule of the risen Christ, to extend beyond the boundaries of the Jewish faith.

This is a massive shift of thinking: never had they contemplated this was the goal.

The record of Scripture suggests that whatever the disciples believed about Jesus it always assumed and lived in the reality that he was Jewish.  Even the religious leaders who had him executed likely didn’t consider the possibility that his mission was to the whole world.

That’s kind of understandable.  The Messiah was a Jewish concept, a promise to God’s chosen people.  Jesus was a Jewish teacher, with Jewish disciples.  He was killed because the leaders thought he was blaspheming the God of the Jews.  The one true God, but still, the God of the Jews.

But had they read their Scriptures more carefully they might have noticed something.  The Jews were God’s chosen people for a reason, a purpose: to be a blessing to the nations, to the whole world.  It’s central to God’s original covenant with Abraham in Genesis, repeated several times.

And in Isaiah it’s stated clearly in chapter 49, in one of the servant songs, where the prophet speaks the word of the LORD regarding the work Messiah will do: “It is too light a thing,” says the LORD, “that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (49:6)

So from the beginning it was in God’s plan to bring light to the whole world in Jesus.  But no one really seemed to be thinking much about that, not Jesus’ opponents, not even his followers.

I suppose it’s natural.  Human beings love being part of “in” groups.  We want to be the insiders, the special ones, and to do that we need to know who the outsiders are, the ones who aren’t us.  It’s how we ever justify war, or oppression, how we know we’re part of a good group, by claiming that “they” are a “they,” not an “us.”  But God’s plan in Jesus was to end “we” and “they” permanently.  That’s what Peter needed to learn.  And then teach to the rest of the Church.

This is God’s new reality (or at least a reality of God’s plan that is new to us) which we also need to be prepared to face.

The most profound part of this story is actually not the vision Peter has, but what the Holy Spirit does, and Peter’s deeply wise recognition of his own limitation.

Peter saw the Holy Spirit become present in the lives of ones he thought were outside God’s salvation.  He saw that the Gentiles received precisely the same gift of the Spirit he and the other believers received from Christ.  And he wisely realized it wasn’t his decision to make anymore about who got that gift.  Who am I, Peter said, that I could hinder God?

This is the wisdom we need to find.  In the Revelation to John, the part we heard today, the risen Christ, the One sitting on the throne, says “See, I am making all things new.” (21:5)  All things are made new in Christ Jesus, all things.  And, like Peter, we need to understand what that means.

The risen Jesus has brought this hope to the world: all peoples are in God’s love and care, all things, all people, all creation, will be made new.  After the resurrection, there are no “in” groups, no “out” groups.  No sense that Christians are the only ones inside God’s love because they know the truth.  All of God’s people are welcome, even if they don’t know what God has done in Jesus for the world.

And if God chooses to bless and to offer life to the whole world, who are we to hinder God?  When we understand this, we begin to see this truth in many places, and other questions occur to us.

What if Jesus was right in John 3:16 and 17, that God loved the whole world, the cosmos, the universe, enough to send the Son to save it, not to judge it?

What if Jesus was serious when he called Paul to become God’s messenger to the Gentiles, to non-Jews?

What if Jesus meant it when he said he intended to draw the whole world to himself in his death and resurrection?

Of course we’d be foolish not to believe Jesus and take him seriously.  But that’s just what we do.  We treat the Church as if it’s an exclusive club, and as if we get to make the rules about who’s in and out.  We treat those who do not believe in the lordship of Jesus as if they were lesser people, not worthy of God’s love.  Or if we’re feeling benevolent, we worry that those who do not believe are condemned to eternal torment after they die.  And we treat those with whom we disagree about issues of faith as people unworthy of our attention and love and respect, let alone God’s.

But it’s actually quite simple: we proclaim that the risen Christ is Lord of all things, and has drawn all creation into the life of the Triune God by his death and resurrection for all.

If that’s so, then perhaps we might actually want to reflect that we believe that to be true.

This is the point where Christians start asking with concern, “Are you talking about universalism?  To that we can only say, it’s not about labeling, or anything anyone else might or might not define as universalism.

If God the Father so loved the whole cosmos that he sent the Son, through whose death and resurrection, as the New Testament writers persistently affirm, the entire universe is subject to his rule, then the entire universe is subject to his rule.  And then all Jesus’ words about the limitless love of the Father, about the fact that the will of God is that all are found, all are saved, not judged, all these words also apply and are valid.

A cosmic view of the Lordship of Christ Jesus demands that we, at least, cannot put limits on his ability to love and save all whom he wishes.  And frankly, it doesn’t really matter what we call it, or whether or not we believe it.  God will do what God will do, and saying “who am I that I could hinder God” is not magnanimously saying, “We need to let God be God.”

It’s actually saying we don’t have any power to alter God’s plan anyway.  I’m sorry if this is news to anyone here, but we don’t get to vote on the shape and scope of God’s plan of salvation.  Which is probably a good thing for a large part of the world.  So it would be wise for us to get on board with what the Triune God actually says is the plan.

Of course, we don’t know precisely how Christ is going to do this, make all things new, draw all people to himself.  We don’t know how he’ll bring in people of other faiths, or people of no faith.  But we believe he will, that he intends to.

And I think that what Jesus says to us today is that it’s not our job to figure out how he’s going to do this, to come up with some theological plan that explains how it will work.  Paul tried doing that for three chapters in his letter to the Romans and ended up tied up in knots, sure of only one thing: God will save the Jewish people because God promised Abraham.  Paul never could figure out exactly how it would happen, though.

And that’s OK.  Because that’s not our job.  Our job, according to Jesus today, is simple: Love each other and the world as he loved us.  When we do this we’ll be a sign to the world that we follow Jesus.  When we do this, we will let the world know about Jesus’ love.  And we’ll be a part of Jesus’ plan.

When we understand what the risen Christ actually wants us and needs us to do, we then have a chance to begin doing what we’ve been anointed to do.

When we spend our time trying to set rules for who’s in and who’s out, we miss God’s deep and abiding insistence that all are in.  When we live as if we believe evangelism is getting others to agree with us we miss our call to do the only evangelism – good news telling – we need to do, and that is to love as Jesus loved us.  And when we spend all our energy trying to sort out just how Christ will make all things new, all people new, and draw all people in, we waste energy needed to be loving people in the world, signs of God’s love for all.

And that’s our call.  To see the world, and other people, as God sees them, not as we’ve been used to seeing them.  And to love the world, and other people, as God loves them, not as we think they deserve.  We mostly can’t figure out how God is going to accomplish this, and we don’t need to.  (Which should be a big relief.)  All we need to do is obey, and love, and watch God’s plan unfold.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

Research has shown that in the womb, babies learn their mother’s (and father’s!) voice.  Similarly, in our baptism and rebirth we learn to distinguish God’s voice from worldly voices because only the voice of God comforts, protects, and gives new life where the was none before.

Vicar Neal Cannon, Fourth Sunday of Easter, year C; texts: Acts 9:36-43, Psalm 23, Revelation 7:9-17, John 10:22-30

Sisters and brothers, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

I love being an uncle.  So far, I have one niece and nephew on Mary’s side of the family, and one nephew on my side, all under the age of six, and I gotta say being an uncle is one of the best jobs in the world.  As an uncle, I often get invited over to give Mom and Dad a break awhile.  And usually when I see my niece and nephew they’re really excited to see me and I’m excited to see them, because my role as uncle is to be the fun guy.  I’m the guy that can be silly and goofy around them, I’m the guy that plays games with them, and I’m the guy that takes them to the zoo or to the movies.

But one thing that I’ve always noticed as an uncle is that whenever a niece or nephew gets hurt, whenever they bump their head or scrape their knee, it’s not Uncle Neal they come crying to.  It’s almost always Mom’s voice, and sometimes Dad’s, that comforts them.

There’s actually a biological/scientific explanation for this.  I recently read an article that cited a study by Canadian and Chinese researchers who recorded pregnant women reading a poem out loud, and then played the recordings to the babies in utero.  The heart rate of babies who heard their mom’s voice speeded up, while the heart rate of those who heard the tapes of another mom’s voice slowed down.  The research team thus concluded that children even from the womb know their mother’s voice.

One mother, reacting to this article, said, “I remember when my son was born, they put him in his little hospital bassinet by me and I called his name and talked to him.  He turned his head and looked at me right away.  This was just a couple of minutes after birth!  Then they did his hearing test and told me his hearing was perfect.  I was like, of course it’s perfect! I  already knew that!” 🙂 [1]

Think about that.  As infants and even from the womb we know our mother’s voice and mothers know that their children can hear them.  And this is why children seek out Mom’s voice.  Mom’s voice comforts us, protects us, and it’s Mom’s voice that we recognize as the one that gives us life.

This is actually a common theme in the book of John.  This is the theme of hearing Jesus’ voice and recognizing that his Voice, is the voice of our Creator. The first verse in John says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” This is John’s way of telling us that Jesus is the voice of God.  Jesus embodies the voice of God.  And we recognize that voice, as the voice of our Creator, the one in the beginning, the one with us now, and the one who will be with us in the future.

John continues this theme in chapter 3 as Nicodemus approaches Jesus and says, “‘Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.’  Jesus answered him, ‘Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.’”

The term ‘born from above’ is sometimes translated as ‘born again.’  Often, when people hear the term ‘born again’ we think of in-your-face evangelists, who ask you when you were ‘saved’ or ‘born again.’

But think about the term ‘born again’ in the context of a mother to her child.  Like a child in the womb, being ‘born again’ is the place where we re-learn the voice of God. We re-learn that the voice comforts us.  We re-learn that the voice protects us from danger.  We re-learn that the voice sustains us and give us new life.

Jesus goes on to tell us that this rebirth happens with water and Spirit.  In other words, in our baptism we’re given the gift of the Spirit, and through the Spirit we hear the voice of God.  We need the Spirit to help us hear the voice of God because in our sin we’ve listened to countless other voices and forgotten what God’s voice sounds like.

In our Gospel lesson today, the people gathered around Jesus are essentially asking about this voice and wondering where it comes from.  They say “Quit keeping us in suspense and tell us who you are!”  Jesus essentially responds to them by saying, take a look at all of the things that I’ve been doing.  Don’t you recognize them?  The hungry are being fed, the weak are protected, and everywhere I go I create new life.

What does that voice sound like to you?

The people who were listening to Jesus should have known what that voice sounds like.  The voice that comforts, protects, and gives life is the voice of God.

Jesus goes on to say that the reason they don’t believe that Jesus is God’s Son is because they’ve forgotten what God’s voice sounds like. “My sheep listen to my voice,” Jesus says.  Put another way, my children recognize me when I speak.

But in truth, this isn’t really a problem that THEY have.  This isn’t a problem that somebody else has.  This is a problem that WE ALL struggle with.  We all struggle to hear the voice of God because as Jesus says, we need to be born again to hear it because other voices have taken over.

As many of you know, I was a youth director for several years before I decided to go to seminary and become a pastor.  It was a privilege for me to work with youth as they experienced extreme joy, but also as they experienced extreme hardships.  Some of the hardships that several youth were going through were eating disorders and self-injury.

And I remember one youth in particular whose problems became serious enough that she needed to be hospitalized so she could receive counseling and treatment.  One week I went to see her in the hospital and she was telling me about the program that she was in and some of the treatment/counseling methods that she was going through.

One method, she learned, was to give your issue a name.  The name the doctors suggested was E.D. or Ed, which stands for eating disorder.  The doctors had the patients do this because they found that giving their problems a name helped people recognize that their self-destructive thoughts and feelings were coming from a source outside of themselves.

I learned two things from this.  The first is that we are constantly listening to other voices that come from outside of us that shape what we believe and think.

Sometimes it’s the voice of a friend.
Sometimes it’s the voice of magazines and television.
Sometimes it’s the voice of culture.

Sometimes those voices tell us that we’re not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, or worthy enough to be loved unconditionally by our Creator… or in fact, by anyone.  And these voices in our lives shape our thoughts and beliefs about ourselves.

The second thing that I learned is that it’s crucial for us to listen to and follow the voices in our lives that build us up.  Lesser voices tear us down, and attack us, and suck the life out of us.  God’s voice does the opposite of those things.

The Bible tells us that the Creator’s voice, comforts us, protects us, and gives us life and anything that is not that, is not our Creator’s voice. That’s how we recognize if something is really from God or not.  We ask the question, does this give us life, or does it take life away?

And that’s how we know that God is in this story in Acts today, even though God or Jesus is never mentioned.  In this story, a woman named Tabitha who is deeply loved by the community falls ill and dies suddenly.  So they rush to get Peter, and Peter prays over Tabitha and the story tells us that she is given new life; she is miraculously raised from the dead.

As Christians, we proclaim that God is in this story, because only God can give new life where there was none.  And so we claim it was not Peter’s prayer that gives new life to Tabitha, it’s God’s word, it’s God’s voice.  This is incredibly important for us as Christians to believe because this tells us that God’s voice makes impossible things possible.  It creates life where there was none before.

And as Christians we say that because this voice has the power to raise the dead to life, God’s voice also has the power to heal entire communities.  God’s voice has the power to heal us and comfort us in time of need because if God’s voice can give life to the dead, then God’s voice can accomplish ANYTHING.  And not only do we receive healing and comfort and life from this voice, but when we hear it, we are able to heal and comfort others in their time of need.

One organization that helps young girls with self-injury, eating disorders, and other issues is called “To Write Love on Her Arms”.  I want to share with you this organization’s vision.

The vision is that we actually believe these things:
You were created to love and be loved.
You were meant to live life in relationship with other people, to know and be known.
You need to know your story is important, and you’re part of a bigger story.
You need to know your life matters.

What does that voice sound like to you?

As Christians, we say that God’s voice, that Jesus’ voice, creates love where there was none before and that voice accompanies us wherever we go.  That even in the midst of tragedy and our darkest hours, we can trust in the words of Psalm 23, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

In this, we learn that God joins us in our suffering.  We learn that when we are going through difficult times, it’s not that God is absent; it’s actually that God is walking right alongside us in the valley of the shadow of death, and even though we can’t see God in the darkness, we can always hear God’s voice.  Sometimes God’s voice comes through an encouraging friend; sometimes we hear that voice in scripture, prayer, and in church, sometimes through an organization like “To Write Love on Her Arms”.

And when we hear God’s voice beside us, we proclaim the words from Revelation today as well which read, “for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”  And when we hear God’s voice in the pit of our lives, when we learn that God’s voice is good.

So today, here in worship, let us quiet our hearts and listen to the voice of God who even now is seeking to comfort us, protect us, and lead us out of the valley, and into new life.

Amen

[1]  http://www.babycenter.com/404_is-it-true-that-babies-can-recognize-their-mothers-voice-at_10323727.bc