sermon – Page 11

So that . . .

December 8, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

All these calls to purification and repentance are invitations to let God transform you and me and the whole community into a life of shalom for us and for all things.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Second Sunday of Advent, year C
Texts: Luke 3:1-6; Malachi 3:1-4; Philippians 1:3-11

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

Shalom.

In Hebrew, that means “peace.” But also wholeness and health, completeness, safety, even friendship. To be in shalom is to be in a life-giving and gracious way of life. Little wonder our Jewish cousins greet others with “shalom.” As our Muslim cousins do with the Arabic “salaam.”

Jesus often spoke of such a way of life, and once he used a different word, “blessed,” to envision it. To be blessed is to be gentle, he said, to hunger and thirst for God’s righteousness, to be merciful. To be pure in heart and to be someone who makes peace. Even those who grieve or are persecuted find blessedness in God’s comfort and mercy, he said. Jesus envisions a blessed world radically shaped by shalom.

A world our readings today invite you to find. To live in. To become.

All this talk of purifying, of landscape flattening, of repentance, has a great “so that . . .” at the heart.

These calls all lead to shalom. God’s people need to be purified, Malachi says, so that their worship and offerings to God come from a good heart, from their love of God and neighbor. Before the exile God’s prophets criticized that they did all the worship and offerings but lived corrupt lives, oppressed their poorer neighbors, turned a blind eye to injustice. So for their worship, their offerings, to be pleasing to God again, they need to be purified into their true selves. Brought into blessed shalom again.

John’s call to repentance is about leveled mountains and filled in valleys, massive highway maintenance. God’s people are asked to repent – literally to turn their lives around – to clean off the roads, make sure everything is straightened out. So that they are walking paths of blessed shalom with God.

That feels much more hopeful than we usually feel from John the Baptist’s annual visit.

Purifying sounds frightening. Ore is taken into a blazing furnace and heated until the precious metal is drawn out in its pure state. If God is purifying us, it sounds like it will hurt. Burning away what is broken and bent in us that pulls us from God. But if God is working toward shalom, blessedness, purifying us to be our true precious selves, whole and well and at peace and merciful and gentle, to be peacemakers and makers of safety for others, that sounds really good.

And getting out the bulldozers and graders sounds frightening, too. What massive work does God need to do in me to make me different? But if God wants to straighten what is crooked so I am complete and whole, so I can walk God’s path of shalom as God’s blessed one, that sounds really good, too.

The key is, God is doing all this.

Paul joins John and Malachi together in a huge promise of that hope. God began this work in you, Paul says, and God will continue to complete it in you until the day of Jesus Christ. This purifying and landscaping leading to shalom is God’s gift, and God’s been working it in you from the beginning.

And no surprise, Paul says there’s a big “so that” here, too. God does this, Paul says, so that your love might overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight, to help you determine what really matters.

What really makes shalom. Blessedness.

And remember: Paul says God’s work is a long-term project.

God will continue to complete it until the end of all things, Paul says. But it will take all that time. You’ll be repeatedly turning around on your path. Because you’ll get lost and take false turns. You’ll need God’s purifying of various things again and again. Because it’s going to take time to draw you into the precious beauty God already sees.

And you’ll need God to do roadwork again and again. Roads in the desert sand over daily, and daily need clearing. Just as a shoveled sidewalk drifts over again, and you need to shovel it again. The path of Christ, the path of shalom, is easily blocked, and needs daily attention until your days are done.

God will complete you. But it will take time.

There’s one more thing, the best part: it’s not just on you.

Paul speaks to all the Philippians, so God’s working in their community to bring shalom, together. Malachi sees all God’s people as being purified. John calls all the crowds to repentance. This isn’t an individual thing. Shalom isn’t lived apart from others. Blessedness is only found in life together.

It starts with the individual. It’s hard to find shalom with others without finding it in ourselves. But it can’t exist there alone. So your faith, and my faith, your discipleship and my discipleship, your repentance and my repentance, God works together in this community until we become a blessed community of shalom.

And you see where this is going. When community after community are so turned, purified, transformed, eventually all God’s children everywhere find this joy, this blessed shalom of God.

So this is a day of Good News.

Repentance, turning toward God, is a gift to delight in because in turning you find shalom. God purifying your heart and mind and spirit, though sometimes painful, is a joy to relish because even you start to see the true you arising. Clearing the path for you to walk as Christ is a treat because even though it’s annoying to have to keep at it, when God does you walk in safety and wholeness.

And when we overflow with God’s love and insight into what really matters and act on that, we become part of God’s solution to the brokenness of our world.

God is committed to a world filled with shalom, lived in shalom, drenched with shalom. A world blessed by God’s people in it who know that blessed shalom is what really matters, and in whom God will continue the work of the healing of all things until all know this shalom, this blessedness.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

This Generation

December 1, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

Our incentive to be faithful followers isn’t our anxiety or fear, it’s the hope of being anointed as Christ to love and bring in the reign of God for all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The First Sunday of Advent, year C
Text: Luke 21:25-36

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

How do we understand Jesus today if we don’t share the same expectation as the early believers?

Clearly the first to follow strongly expected that Christ would return soon, even that the world would end in their lifetimes. Jesus, Paul, other New Testament writers all speak of it. Today Jesus seems to use that as an incentive, warning us to be faithful because all this could suddenly end, and we don’t want to be caught off guard.

But it’s been nearly two thousand years now. The world’s still here, Christ hasn’t ridden in on the clouds to end it. Sometimes we fear we’re in the end times, but mostly we think the world will be here for a while.

In fact, that’s the source of our anxiety and fear. When we see so many problems, so much suffering, or the way our nation is going and who we are as a people, our fear and anxiety come from wondering if we can change anything. We’re afraid because we think that we’re in this world for the long haul. So climate change and oppression and war and racism and sexism and poverty and xenophobia and everything else really matter. We can’t ignore problems in the world because we think it’s all going to end soon, as some in the past did.

So if the world’s not likely to end any minute, is there an incentive to be faithful?

What other reason do we have to serve Christ, if Jesus’ incentive today doesn’t work anymore?

Maybe we’re misunderstanding Jesus. Today’s warnings aren’t the only ones he made like this. A number of times he talked about staying awake and watchful, because the master could return at any time.

But he also embodied the love of the Triune God for the world and God’s creatures. For you. By far most of his teachings are invitations to bear the same love.

Jesus isn’t about incentives, or even threats. Jesus is about love. And we actually know that. We’re anxious about the world because we love it. We care about the climate, the planet. We care about our neighbors – all of them – because they’re human beings who deserve love and grace. Our hearts have already been shaped into the love of God, and that’s why all this matters to us.

Our fear is we can’t do much. So we need to hear Jesus’ words of hope today, too.

Jesus says this generation won’t pass away until all things have taken place.

But if the world didn’t end in the lifetime of those first followers, what’s he saying? Well, what if “generation” means all who come to trust God through Christ? If Jesus is creating the Body of Christ through baptism and the Holy Spirit, and we’re all part of that Body, then “this generation” includes us.

So this is actually a promise of God’s faithfulness. Jesus is saying “God will keep bringing about these things, this reign of God, as long as there are those who follow me. Who are Christ.”

Because the reign of God in Christ includes us, too.

We’re the second coming of Christ that we’ve been waiting for. That’s always been the plan. Jesus says his words will never pass away, and they won’t, when you and I live into them, abide in them. Embody them. Just as Jesus – the Word-made-flesh – embodied them.

Now you are God’s Word made flesh, and every act of love you do makes a difference. Every hand you reach out changes the world. You are much more important and powerful than you imagine. Because you are Christ, anointed in baptism for what you can do to heal and save the world.

And now Jesus’ warning makes sense.

Not to frighten us into obedience; Jesus is clear that’s not how the Triune God operates. But to give a warning of what can keep us from being Christ in the world, and thus deprive the world of our love.

So Jesus says be on guard not to waste your life away with drunkenness or anxiety or dissipation – which is depleted resources and wasted energy. Because you’re needed, I’m needed, to be Christ in the world.

Of course we can enjoy life, even waste time once in a while. But Jesus warns against letting that become our obsession, or our distraction, to avoid the hard things.

As we consider all that’s going on, feeling helpless to do anything, we could let ourselves go into addictions, whether chemical, or phone and Internet, or entertainment. We could spend our time on wasteful things that drain us without refilling us. Or just wallow in anxiety and fear. All to avoid what’s going on. We’ve all likely been tempted by this.

Be on guard for that, Jesus says. Keep your eyes open. Your love is too important to Christ’s plan to have it wasted away. And we can help each other with this, too, watching each other for signs of anxiety or addiction or wastefulness, and give each other a hand of love.

Jesus’ gift is we can find the urgency to follow not from fear of the end but from hope of the beginning.

You are Christ in this world. You are how Christ is reigning in this world. You and I and all who hear God’s call to love. And this is the beginning of the Good News for the rest of the world.

Because if we are Christ’s second coming, the one we thought we were waiting for, then in us the Triune God is going to make all things new. How that’s going to look in the big picture, God knows. But every act of love makes a difference. Every hand reached out changes the world.

And if we don’t see it all happen in our lifetimes, that’s OK. This generation will last until God gets it all done. That’s a promise. And while we’re here, we’re a part of God’s healing and hope.

And we might even see some of the changes happen. Stand up, raise your heads, Jesus says, and look around. You’ll see redemption coming.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

And All These Things

November 28, 2024 By Vicar at Mount Olive

Jesus knows the ways we worry, but asks us to believe that our lives are more than the things we worry about. When we trust in God, rather than worrying about the things of this world, God reminds us of who we are, assures us of God’s faithfulness, and increases our capacity to love our neighbors.

Vicar Natalie Wussler
The Day of Thanksgiving
Texts: Joel 2:21-27; Psalm 126; Timothy 2:1-7; Matthew 6:25-33

Beloved in Christ, grace to you and peace in the name of the ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothes?” Jesus asks. And it’s a good question. Because while many of us here thankfully don’t have to worry about what we will eat, drink, or wear on a daily basis, unlike most of the people listening to Jesus, we do worry about a lot of other things–our financial security, our cars, our jobs, our homes, the state of the world and how it will affect us, our loved ones, and millions more. Jesus asks us, are our lives not more than these things? This question is hard for us, because these things are at the core of the ways we live our lives. Of course we need basic necessities like food, water, and shelter. But Jesus says that our life, our value, and our worth should not be in the things that give us earthly security. Jesus is rightly saying that once we value these things above God, worry often follows.

Because worry says that our security and identity are wrapped up in material things. It causes us to see our lives through a tunnel vision of all that we do not have and all the ways we are not enough. We start to believe we are nothing beyond what we have and what we produce. We hear these messages from our world all too often, and they strike fear and worry into our hearts, a worry that causes us to respond with fear, not with love. It provokes us to put our security in our wealth, in what we do, and how much influence we have. We begin to let the world forge our identity, instead of God.

Jesus knew how worry warps our lives, and so he says before all these things, before food, water, or clothes, to seek first the reign of God and God’s righteousness. God’s reign welcomes and loves the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted. It makes room for everyone. No exceptions. God’s reign, not security in material things that are here one day and gone the next, is what we should seek. And in the seeking, you will find God and God will help you find yourself.

You are a beloved child of God, above all else. You are loved beyond all reason or measure by the God who created the universe, who provides for the lilies and sparrows, who knows you and cares for you deeply. That’s the God who is with you. Your identity does not rest in material things, it rests in the love that God has first shown you. You can rest from the weariness of worry and trust in God’s love that is at work within you.

And when our identities are secure in God’s love, we’re reminded of God’s faithfulness, to us and to people throughout time. “Do not fear, be glad and rejoice, for God has done great things,” says Joel to Israel, after a major drought and plague of locusts ends. God’s faithfulness to the Israelites brought joy to their hearts and helped them move forward in courage and thanksgiving. We too are empowered by the ways God shows up in our lives. Even in the midst of the struggles of this life, we too can respond in thankfulness for all God has done for us.

During my second summer trip with youth at my previous church, we were traveling to Whiteville, NC. Our first day landed us at a church in Dayton, OH. The next morning we woke up and hopped in our vehicles, only to find out the bus wasn’t starting. We were stranded with no shelter, no extra food, and no way to get all our students from Ohio to North Carolina. Worried is a bit of an understatement. How and when would we get out of Ohio? Where would we sleep that night? How would we give our students a good experience? Our anxiety made it hard to see a way out. But things started to shift. Our hosting church let us stay for an extra night, and made sure we had enough food and water. Some church members even got our students discounted tickets to a waterpark nearby. We found van rentals and had just enough adults to drive them. And, most miraculously, our students had positive, optimistic attitudes the whole time. They treated us and each other with grace and kindness. We were surrounded by generosity and saw God in every detail. We couldn’t help but thank God. And slowly our worries about the bus, getting to North Carolina on time, and keeping our students content disappeared. And we were on our way the next morning.
From droughts to buses breaking down, thankfulness helps us set our worries aside, because we have confidence in our God who has been with us and worked through us in all kinds of difficult times.

And as we are held together by God’s faithfulness, seeking God’s justice and love for all in the world, we walk with so many other beloved children of God. This reign of God is a community, bound together in love for our neighbor and thanksgiving for God, a community that is salt and light to the earth, where people live in humble service to one another. Where God’s will is done on earth as in heaven. And as security in the things of this world becomes trust in our good God, we are assured that God gives us what we need for this journey. And as worry is replaced with God’s love, we are reminded that we draw from an ever-flowing spring that increases our capacity to love our neighbor. And in our abundance that first comes from God, we pour out to all those in need, inviting them to the ever-growing table that ensures all are satisfied. And then people are fed, given drink, and clothed, given more than enough. That’s when tears transform into shouts of joy. That’s when all these things are added to us.

In the name of the ☩ Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Follow the Truth

November 24, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

Christ Jesus doesn’t want to be a king; Christ wants us to be Christ, following him as the Truth of God in this world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Reign of Christ, Last Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 34 B
Text: John 18:33-37 (plus 38a)

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

We have a problem with this festival day. Jesus doesn’t want to be a king.

A few years ago, we joined many other Christians in renaming this festival “the Reign of Christ” to minimize the masculine language of the title king. But today Jesus is clear. We didn’t think deeply enough. Jesus doesn’t want the title king at all. He doesn’t want to be put in any kind of hierarchy, benign or otherwise.

Twice in Jesus’ trial Pilate asks him if he’s a king, and twice he says no. The first time, he says if he were a king, his followers would be fighting for him and he wouldn’t be standing in this trial. The second time, he says that Pilate’s the one who called him a king. But, Jesus says, “I was born and came into the world for only one thing, to witness to the truth.”

Yet for most of Christian history, we’ve insisted on making Jesus a king anyway, lifting him up as Ruler of all things, singing coronation hymns. Some of us claim he’s a different kind of king than worldly rulers – it’s why this festival was started in the first place. But far too often we have fought to make Christ our King a winner, proving him wrong in his confidence about us before Pilate, proving we don’t understand him.

The history is clear. Whenever we make Christ our King, people die.

When we make Christ a King we get the Inquisition and the Crusades and kill millions. When we put Christ’s cross on our banners, it ends up on our shields and war machines, and people die. We get Cortez slaughtering the Mexica for the glory of that cross. We create the Holocaust. We commit physical, spiritual, and cultural genocide on the native peoples of our land. When we lift up a hierarchical Christ the King we end up with two millennia of a Church that abuses, patronizes, demonizes, sexualizes, and excludes women, so much so that an outside observer might conclude the Church hates women. When we worship Christ as Supreme Ruler we get Christian nationalist fascism that wants to reshape our nation into a twisted, white-centric dystopia claimed to be under Christ’s rule.

But it’s always been this way. After the resurrection, the disciples asked Jesus if now was the time he was going to restore Israel, throw off Roman oppression. It’s as if they said, “we totally misunderstood that you were going to die. We were wrong. But now you’re alive again, we’re back to conquest, right? Now you have real power.”

Even as we look at the current national landscape, how many of us have fantasized about Christ coming in and sorting all this out, punishing evildoers? No matter how well intentioned, historically no outcome to a hierarchical view of the Triune God avoids getting out swords and hurting people.

And so Jesus says, “you say I’m a king. But I came only to witness to the truth.”

That’s the heart of it. Jesus, God-with-us, came to witness to the truth about God. Not our truth. Our need for hierarchy. The only truth the Triune God is willing for us to know and understand. And here it is:

God being born to an impoverished refugee family isn’t a nice detail to bring out when we consider immigration issues. It’s God’s central truth. Jesus walking as God-with-us among the poorest, the hungriest, the weakest, the most vulnerable, isn’t a side note to our view of God. It’s the only note. Jesus, one with the Father and the Spirit in the Trinity, hanging bloody on a cross isn’t a bump to overcome on the way to resurrection. It’s the only truth about God’s love that God wants you to know.

The truth, Governor Pilate, isn’t an idea. It’s Jesus, God-with-us. “I am the truth,” he said. Everything you and I need to know about God, everything, is contained in this human vessel, from birth to death.

This is the only truth Jesus wants us to know and follow. The only God God wants us to know is a refugee, impoverished, oppressed, killed by the hierarchy of the world. A God only seen serving others. A kneeling God, washing feet and sores, and offering a hand of love. God doesn’t want us to indulge our pathetic human need to elevate someone into a hierarchical authority structure. God’s truth is here, in the least, the lost, the broken. Period.

Faithfully celebrating the reign of Christ can only be on God’s terms. In God’s truth.

Where we rejoice and praise God when people are fed and cared for, when justice happens, when love changes hearts. Where we proclaim the only reality of the Triune God that matters, that God is with those who are refugees, impoverished, oppressed, killed by the hierarchy of the world.

What that means for our celebrating the reign of Christ, I don’t know. For the most part, the New Testament writers push language about reigning over all things into the world to come. Maybe there we’ll be able to praise the Trinity as the ultimate Ruler of All without hurting people.

But for now, for here, you and I know where God is. And if we’re going to follow the Truth, that’s where. Nowhere else. We don’t even put God on a pedestal. God will just get down anyway and go where God only wants to be found.

Jesus had an odd confidence, telling Pilate, “my followers know the difference.

They know I’m not a king.” So far we’ve proven we don’t know that very well.

But maybe Jesus was just expressing hope that we could figure it out. Maybe Jesus was saying to you and me, “If you’ve been listening to my voice, I’m confident you’ll hear this. And hearing, follow that truth.” And amidst all the slaughter and hate the Church is guilty of, if you look in history you can also see plenty of Christ’s followers who heard this voice, learned this truth and lived in this reign as God lives in it. Praising God the only way God will accept it, by lives of love amidst a world of pain and suffering. Love even to enemies and those who hate.

And here’s what those followers learned: when they followed God’s actual Truth, Jesus, God was always with them. They’d face ventures of which they couldn’t see the ending. They’d start down paths they’d never trodden on before. They’d face perils and dangers unknown to them before. But they’d do this knowing God’s hand was guiding them, God’s love supporting them. Always.

And so they followed.

What do you think? Do you want go along with Pilate and everyone else? Or do you want to follow the Truth, follow Christ on a path that will be with God all the way and bring healing and hope to you and so many, to the whole creation?

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

In the Crumbling . . .

November 17, 2024 By Vicar at Mount Olive

Our texts give remind us that faithful people have lived through times of anguish, and as we live through times of great unraveling, we are called to be Christian community with one another. This gives us the strength to move through difficult times.

Vicar Natalie Wussler
The Twenty-sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 33 B
Texts: Daniel 12:1-3; Psalm 16; Hebrews 10:11-14 [15-18] 19-25; Mark 13:1-8

Beloved in Christ, grace to you and peace in the name of the ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

It’s Scripture like this that we don’t want to hear in times like today. They paint bleak pictures that don’t feel like good news to our weary souls. We read about times of anguish, wars and rumors of wars, famine and temples crumbling. Jesus’ words here terrified the disciples. All they’d ever known would soon come tumbling down around them. At the oppressive hands of Rome, the very dwelling place of God on earth would be leveled to the ground, with not one stone left. It’s an absolutely devastating scene. And consider Daniel’s context–set during the Babylonian exile experiencing their own time of anguish with everything the Israelites knew turned up-side-down.

These writers are speaking into their current-day realities, but they feel far too close to home. Because all around us, things feel like they’re crumbling down. That grief, fear, and anger from last week has not disappeared. As the reality of our years to come set in, there’s lots crumbling down all around us. Trust in our leaders, trust in our fellow Americans, our hope, systems and structures that do their best at providing for the most vulnerable around us. The grief, fear, and anger does not stop at the political landscape. Today you might be carrying a crumbling relationship or you may have just received some news that upends your world or you may just be feeling hopeless. The truth is, we’re often in the midst of something crumbling down around us.

And that’s exactly why we need these Scriptures. They remind us that we’re not the first or the last community of faith living in a great unraveling. We follow in their footsteps–struggling in times of anguish and wondering where God is in the midst of it, searching for hope in the rubble and proclaiming good news in impossible times–carrying on as children of God. Because in the chaos of this world, we’re doing the same things in the desolation. We’re striving to build toward the world that Jesus has been teaching about–a world that uplifts vulnerable people, recognizes the widow’s gift as precious, and treats all with love and compassion. These texts remind us that faithful people have lived through times of anguish and figured out ways to live as Christ to one another. So the question is – how will we continue to live as Christ in the turmoil? How will we respond in the midst of the crumbling?

As Jesus speaks with the disciples, he first tells them these two things–Beware and do not be alarmed. Or “stay alert” and “do not be afraid” in some translations. Jesus is not saying all this to scare the disciples, but, instead, to warn them and prepare them to be the church in times of upheaval. “Stay alert,” Jesus says, to not be misled by those who want to take advantage of the chaos. Don’t let these kinds of people lead you away from God and one another. Stay alert to what God is actually doing during these exhausting times. And do not be afraid when you hear of wars and rumors of wars and when you see the fallout of the chaos. What Jesus says may feel like a tall order for us in times of anguish. Because while we want to have a total faith and trust like our Psalm professes, seeing temples toppled and hearing of wars and rumors of wars, earthquakes, and famines, provokes fear. But Jesus never promised that our lives would be free from pain and fear. Instead, Jesus promises to be with us in the middle of it. Later in this chapter, Jesus says that the Holy Spirit will be with the disciples through all they will experience, an assurance for us that we are not alone.

That’s God’s promise to us–to be with us. In the crumbling, God promises us presence through the Holy Spirit, who abides in our very souls. When we fear, panic, or grieve, we can call on the Holy Spirit to give us wisdom and strength to carry on. This same strength carried the disciples through their own persecution–it is sufficient to give you the hope you need to journey through whatever chaos you may face. God’s presence provides you refuge, counsel, and joy, says the Psalmist. And in God, you will find the strength to not be shaken. God gives you what you need to survive and continue to spread God’s transformative love through the world. God makes Godself known, even during times of turmoil.

And God shows up for us in one another. The writer of Hebrews knew this. Just listen to these invitations:

let us approach with a true heart in full assurance of faith, Let us hold fast to the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who has promised is faithful. And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together.

Us, you and me, together with God. God gives us God’s presence through each other.

This life of faith is meant to be lived together, especially in times of anguish and turmoil. We need each other. Because in each other, we see the face of God. We find the strength and the hope to carry on, together. We remind each other that God is faithful. As we come before God and confess our hope as one body, we are encouraged to do the work of God in this weary world–to uplift poor and vulnerable people, to live as Christ with one another, prioritizing love and compassion.

When we are baptized, we are woven into the tapestry of God’s grace, into the family of God, and we are so much stronger collectively than we ever could be separately. With the communion of the saints, we face whatever this world throws at us, trusting that God is with us and holding us together. Let’s not allow our fear, grief, or anxiety to isolate us as it often can, but rather, let’s press into the community of faithful people we are blessed with. Let’s lean on each other and support one another. All while continuing to provoke each other to find courage to act as the body of Christ, because we all have a part to play in God’s good work in this world.

So beloved, let’s keep showing up for each other, trusting in God’s love which connects us all in a tapestry of grace. As we look toward these next years, we may feel overwhelmed at the enormity of what may crumble before us.

But take heart, dear friends. God is at work. In you, in me, in this community, and in millions of people provoking one another to do good things. To work for justice and compassion. To act in love in a world that seems so full of hate. With each good deed creating a ripple that can change tides toward something good.

And church, that is something worth hoping for.

In the name of the ☩ Father, Son and Holy Spirit.