You are beloved and trusted to be able to serve God’s healing of this world, and encouraged that, despite the time it will take, that healing will come.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twenty-Third Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 32 A
Texts: Matthew 25:1-13; 1 Thessalonians 4:18

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

All ten bridesmaids were prepared for this wedding.

Honored with such a role, these close friends and family were excited and ready to do their job, to process the groom and his party to the wedding place. All ten had their lamps filled and lighted. All were ready. At least at mid-afternoon.

Then an hour went by. Another. It started to get dark. Sitting and waiting for hours makes you sleepy. Finally at midnight they wake up, disturbed by the noise of the approaching people.

That’s when five realized they had a problem. They weren’t ready for a delay like this.

That’s this parable’s crisis: being prepared to serve is one thing. But what if there’s a long, interminable delay?

Jesus speaks to the depths of our reality. 2,000 years later, we’re still living in a world with injustice, suffering, oppression. We stand between the pain and evil we see in the world and our hope that God in Christ will bring healing and restoration. It’s exhausting to work and stand in that in-between space.

Because no matter what the outcome of Tuesday’s election, huge work was going to be there for all of us. The work of building a better society, working for the common good of all, would still be there. The work of trying to rebuild our cherished institutions of free and open elections, checks and balances in our government, accountability of our lawmakers and law enforcers – the list is long and the work will take time. So many in this world ask, “How long, O God, how long?” Many give up on the bridegroom, abandoning faith in God. It’s hard to blame them. How long can we wait for God?

It’s easy to be energetic when you first serve God, when you see places you can help.

We remember moments of high excitement and energy for being Christ in the world, making a difference. We remember elections, or moments in our society and culture where great hope dawned and it looked like we were turning a corner to being a caring society, a world like God envisions in Scripture. But the longer things take, the bigger the problems, the more daunting the political landscape, the easier it is to lose hope, to lose energy, to lose the will.

“Save us from weak resignation to the evils we deplore,” we plead in a beloved hymn, because weak resignation is all we can muster sometimes. Our country is clearly still deeply divided, polarized, demonizing each other. Do we even want to be engaged, we wonder, if evil is so strong?

And we’re not sure what it is to have enough oil, or if we can get it.

What is it to be prepared? The next two parables in Matthew 25 help. Next week, having enough oil is using the talents we’ve been given – time, wealth, gifts – to serve the Bridegroom. In two weeks we’ll hear that having enough oil is caring for those in any need, because that is caring for the Bridegroom, for Christ.

But do we feel we can get enough oil for what’s needed? What can any of us do?

Some of us are retired; how can they engage? Some of us are homebound, not getting around; how can they make a difference? Some of us have small children, lives filled every second; where can they find the time? And who of us has the leverage, the influence, to make a difference? Name whatever problem our society faces and our hope from God, and most of us get stuck here: I don’t know if I have any ability to help.

It’s not that we don’t want to store up extra oil for the delay; we’re not sure we can get any.

This is a wake-up call from Jesus – he literally says “stay awake” – a reminder that God’s restoration is happening, but it will take time.

Jesus says in this parable, be ready for that delay. Keep it in your heart that you might not see it all in your lifetime. Jesus tempers the hopeful encouragement that the Bridegroom is coming, God’s healing restoration is coming, with honesty about the timing. But that helps, doesn’t it? If you know it will take time, you can prepare better for that.

Jesus also says in this parable, waiting is not passive. Make sure you’ve got oil set aside, be of service. And if you’re concerned you can’t help or aren’t sure what you could do, remember Jesus assumes all the bridesmaids had it in them. Jesus assumes you can find the oil, too. There are things you can do that will bring about the promise God is making, using your talents, caring for those in need.

And if you think this wake up call is Jesus threatening you or me, think again. Remember, the true Bridegroom, a day or so after telling this, lets us slam the door in his face, kick him out of our party, saying, “Truth is, we don’t know you.” The Bridegroom allows himself to be killed by those he’s come to celebrate with. And in rising from the dead, the risen Bridegroom says, “I love you, but we’ve still got lots to do to prepare, so get your oil and lamps ready.”

“Therefore encourage one another with these words,” Paul says today in a different context.

Here are your reasons for courage today:

Jesus loves you enough to make you one of the beloved ones chosen to serve the coming of the Triune God, and to die and rise for you so you’re not terrified of punishment, but live freely as God’s beloved.

Jesus trusts you enough to believe you have the oil you need to be ready.

Jesus cares for you enough to alert you to the delay so you can be ready for that.

And Jesus believes in you enough to trust that if you, and I, and all God’s children, live such prepared lives, the healed, restored creation God is making through the true Bridegroom will come to pass.

Therefore, encourage one another with these words.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

God’s vision for the world, God’s values, are radically different from much of the world, but in them you find you are blessed and you are a blessing to others.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
All Saints Day
Texts: Matthew 5:1-12; 1 John 3:1-3

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

Do you sometimes feel poor in spirit?

Is faith that God is in the world and doing anything really hard to find sometimes? Are doubts that God loves you or the world piling up and anxiety twisting your gut?

That’s hard to be in this world. So many seem completely confident in their views, never wavering, and even people of faith can say that if you just tried harder to believe, you’d never doubt. Being poor in spirit can feel very lonely.

Well, good news. God’s values are radically different than this world. Jesus, the face of the Triune God, tells you today that when you are poor in spirit you are in the middle of God’s reign. That God’s way is found through losing, not winning, and those who struggle to see and believe find God because of that struggle, not by never doubting. When you are poor in spirit, you are blessed, because then you are with God.

Are you mourning right now?

On this All Saints Day we all remember and grieve those we love who have gone. But maybe grief doesn’t wait just for today for you. Are there moments, even whole days, where grief bursts your control and boils overwhelmingly into your entire life? It might have been ten years, or ten days, since your loss, but you still find yourself mourning?

That’s hard to be in this world. Our culture is uncomfortable with grief, people urge you to move on, get over it. So you either try to hide your grief or suppress it. Mourning can feel very lonely.

Well, good news. God’s values are radically different than this world. Jesus, the face of the Triune God, tells you today that in your mourning, God is there. And you will be comforted. You are blessed in your grief, because you are not alone, and God’s love and embrace will hold you through the worst of it and give you peace.

Do you hunger and thirst for righteousness?

Long for a world where your neighbors aren’t crushed by an unjust system because of the color of their skin or their economic class? Do you hunger for a world where all can earn enough to live and be housed and all can have the health care they need? Do you ache inside for this, and more, and despair it may never happen?

That’s hard to be in this world. Many say everyone should take care of themselves, and we don’t have a responsibility to help others. There’s an unprecedented level of hatred and disdain and abuse in our society for those who struggle, even from our leaders, and a lack of compassion threatens to dominate our culture. Hungering and thirsting for righteousness and justice can feel very lonely.

Well, good news. God’s values are radically different than this world. Jesus, the face of the Triune God, tells you today that your hunger and thirst will be filled, all of ours will. It may be hard to see, but there’s evidence in yard signs and social media and protests and neighbors helping neighbors that God is working to fill all who hunger for righteousness and justice. You are blessed, for all will be filled.

Do you aspire to be gentle and kind in a world of bullies, a peacemaker in a world of violence and hatred?

You may not always feel gentle or peaceable, but do you long for God to help you become that? To follow Christ’s example and be someone who brings gentleness and peace into this world? It seems much of our world doesn’t value such things.

Well, good news. God’s values are radically different than this world. Jesus, the face of the Triune God, tells you today that God will do what you long for. In your gentleness, you will experience all that God intends for the world. In your peacemaking, you will live into your identity as a child of God. You will be a blessed, and a sign of God’s blessing for this whole world.

Do you desire to learn to be merciful in this cruel world? To have your heart purified of that which would harm you and others?

You may not always feel merciful, especially to those who are cruel and hateful, and your heart might not always have pure motives and be centered in love. But do you long for God to help you find these things? To follow Christ’s example and be God’s mercy and God’s heart in this world? It seems much of our world doesn’t value such things.

Well, good news. God’s values are radically different than this world. Jesus, the face of the Triune God, tells you today that God will do what you long for. When you learn mercy from God, you will find that you are receiving God’s mercy at the same time. When your heart is purified of those things that pull you toward hate and away from love, you will actually see God. You’ll have God’s heart in you. You will be blessed, and a blessing to all you meet.

These are the first words Jesus teaches in Matthew, and they shape all his teaching afterward.

Jesus tells us what God blesses, what God values. God’s vision of how the world is and can be.

And we need these words today. We’re on the edge of an election in the midst of some of the worst public behavior many of us have ever seen, amidst the collapse of decency and civility in our public discourse. So many things in our society seem to be falling apart, injustice seems to reign, and so many things need to be rebuilt for the good of all people. We’re afraid and anxious, tired of all the anger, and fearful nothing will change.

Today Jesus gently offers a different vision. If you can learn to see as God sees, value what God values, you will see a path open that is abundant and hopeful, even in a world of grief and doubt and chaos and fear and struggle. You might suffer for this path, Jesus says today. But Jesus’ promise stands: God is always walking beside you, and you are blessed on this path, no matter what happens.

You can pray for this on this All Saints Day.

You can ask the Holy Spirit to help you to trust and take hope that God has called you blessed. God’s precious child. Beloved. So you can know that whatever you struggle with, grieve over, hunger for, God is always with you in love, filling, comforting, blessing.

And you can ask the Holy Spirit to help you become what God already sees in you. The elder in 1 John says today that we know we are God’s children, but we can’t yet see what we will be. But you can pray for that transformation. That you become the child of God God already sees: gentle, merciful, pure in heart, a maker of peace.

You can pray that God’s sense of what is valuable, what is blessed, might change you, change me, change all God’s children, until it spreads throughout the world, and all the world knows it is truly blessed and loved and lives that blessing for all.

In the name of Jesus. Amen

Remaining rooted in the steadfast Word of God, we can be still and know that God is here.

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Reformation Sunday
Texts: Psalm 46, Jeremiah 36:31-34, John 8: 31-36

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

Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. These are the words of Psalm 46, which we heard paraphrased in “A Mighty Fortress is our God.“

Be still and know—
Though the waters pour, the fires burn, the wind rages, and the temperatures rise;

Be still and know—
Though the virus spreads, the community is scattered, and people are ill;

Be still and know—
Though the election is just days away and injustice cries all around us;  

Be still and know—
Though we are filled with anxiety, fear, and despair;

Be still and know—

Two actions that seem practically impossible as the chaos of the world spins around us. How are we supposed to be still when we are filled with so many emotions? How are we supposed to know when so many voices seek our attention?

Telling ourselves to be still is almost as foolish as telling a tree to stop swaying in the wind. When the wind blows, we can’t help but move with it.

We are swayed by social media, the news, even the lies we tell ourselves about our worthiness. In a time that is difficult to trust and in the midst of such powerful winds, where on earth do we find the respite of stillness?

Are we waiting for the eye of the storm? Just a brief respite from the wind gives us a chance to pull the hair back from our eyes, to see what’s around us. Or. Are we searching for our grounding, seeking to grow roots deep within the soil—a tether to hold us?

There are many valid responses to chaos.

Right now, it’s hard to be still and know.

It is hard to remain in the word of God as we usually have. Our rituals of gathering in community, feasting together, and communal song are not available to ground us.

When we’re uprooted from all of these things that teach us how to remain in God’s word, we must root ourselves in the proclamation we hear through John’s Gospel.

Jesus literally says, remain in me, and remain in my Word.

Continue in me, Continue in my Word
Hold onto me, hold onto my Word
Live in me, live in my Word

To be still and know is to remain in God. God with us tells us to remain in me.  That sounds easy, but we know that finding rest in the midst of chaos is never easy.

We hear from the prophet Jeremiah that God writes on our hearts.

When God writes on hearts, our connection to God is no longer simply about belief, understanding, or knowledge. When God writes on our hearts, God makes a promise to forever be in relationship with us.

So, when Christ says to remain in me and remain in my word, God has already promised through the prophet of Jeremiah to do the heavy lifting in this two way relationship.

God writes that we are loved; beloved, claimed by God sealed with the Spirit forever. This is our baptismal promise. A promise that our entire identity is rooted in the steadfast love of the Triune God.

The promise of God’s steadfast love is engraved on our hearts; a promise that flows through our veins, a promise that reaches the tops of our heads and the tips of our toes; a promise that continues to flow throughout our entire body with each beat of our heart.

Beloved, God has made a permanent mark on your heart. And God is here and God is always with you. Each of us is an embodiment of God’s love in this world.

So when you can’t seem to calm yourself down, place a hand on your heart. Feels God’s presence within you.

Be still and know—
a centering, a deep breath that fills our lungs

Be still and know—
Letting ourselves be held by the community of Christ that surrounds us.

Be still and know—
Digging in our feet and rooting ourselves in God in the midst of chaos.

Be still and know—

It isn’t necessarily this far off thing that we have to achieve through physical stillness, meditation, or emptying our minds.

In these times, whenever you feel a sense of calm, identify it as God.

Be still and know that I am God.
Be still and remain in God.

Remain in the presence of God. Remain in the people of God. When we remain in the Word of God, we grow deep roots of rest.

Theses roots entangle with the roots of our neighbor and with all of creation. Tethering us to the rich soil and to each other. The deeper and more enmeshed our roots grow, the further we can stretch ourselves out to witness to the injustices of our world and the needs of our neighbor.

Be still and know does not mean being complacent, but it allows us to let go of some of the burden of today because of our connectedness God and all of creation. It’s the kind of rest that comes from the confidence and certainty that God is here. We are not called to reform the world by ourselves

Be still and know is to continue in the work of Christ. To continue speaking truth to power. Showing empathy to all of God’s beloved. And holding each other as the wind blows.

We may rest in the life, the death, and the resurrection of Christ Jesus. Because the good news for today is that in the midst of the chaos, God lives in us and the Holy Spirit moves through our veins. For we know that we are no longer captive to sin but we are freed by what Christ has done for us. Free to Grow, free to Proclaim, and free to rest.

Thanks be to God who engraves steadfast love on our hearts; God who in the midst of chaos whispers, be still, my beloved, be still and know that I am your God and you are my mine.

Amen.

We belong to God; our government and society belong to us. Now that the order is clear, so is our task.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 29 A
Texts: Matthew 22:15-22 (with reference to vv. 34-40, appointed for next week, if Reformation Sunday texts were not used)

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

“Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”

The religious leaders in Jerusalem during that week we now call Holy decide to go on the offensive, after Jesus told a bunch of parables they felt threatened by. They try to get Jesus to say something publicly they can use to accuse him of inciting rebellion, get him on record saying he opposed taxes to Caesar. Then they’d have him.

“Give to the emperor what belongs to the emperor,” Jesus says. “Give to God what belongs to God.” The leaders walk away amazed, because he answered in a way they couldn’t use or understand.

Jesus’ answer has multiple possible interpretations, ground for all sorts of claims and actions. And it’s not just an enigma to them. Jesus says to us: you need to know what belongs to the emperor and what belongs to God, and therefore what is owed. You have to figure it out, he says. I can’t do that for you.

There is a twist for us, though: our political system.

We don’t have an emperor, at least if our Constitution is still the law of the land. Unlike Jesus’ Jewish hearers, who had no control of the emperor, no choice but obedience to the emperor’s edicts, we have the ability to elect our rulers at every level. We have the ability to influence the laws that are made, to make our voice heard by our voting and by our speaking to our representatives. Though it is being severely tested these days, the “emperor” – the government at all levels – actually belongs to all of us in this country.

So the order of things for us is radically different to that of Jesus’ time. Jesus’ hearers had competing rulers – God and the emperor. For we who believe in God, who have been baptized into Christ, we only have one ruler above us, and that is the Triune God. The “emperor,” that is, the government, is below us, serves all people. Or we change it if it doesn’t.

But we still have to sort out what we owe, and to whom we owe it.

Jesus’ summary of God’s will is our guide: Love God, and love neighbor.

That’s your path, Jesus will say on this same day in Holy Week, just a few verses after today’s Gospel, your way to fulfill all that God asks of you. “Giving to God what belongs to God” means that we, who love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, or at least know that’s what we aspire to, that we love our neighbor in such a way that God’s priorities are carried out in this world.

And God’s priorities in the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament never waver: God wants no one to be left on the margins of society. God cares for those who are poor and those who hunger and wants them to be filled. God hears those who suffer injustice and oppression and wants our society to be one where all are free, no one is crushed. God loves peace, and wants a world where weapons of war are converted into implements of feeding and nurturing.

This is what belongs to God. And now we know what we owe and to whom.

Since the government belongs to us – and “us” means all of us in this country, of all faiths and of no faith – then how we all order that government, how we create or reform or structure our society is on all of us. And since we who claim faith in Christ know we belong to God, and know what God wants of this world, Jesus’ riddle today says we live our belonging to God in how we live, act, and think politically.

Calling for an end to racism, for the reform of oppressive systems and abusive laws, for a fair minimum wage and affordable housing, for health care for all, for peace, not war, comes from our trust in the God who desires this for all God’s children.

And we have this joy: many of our siblings who are Muslim, and Jewish, and of other faiths, and of no faith, also say, “Those are things we value, too.”

Unlike the Christian right, who openly declare they want the government to support their institutions, be controlled by their people, in short, who want a theocratic government based on their view of Christianity, what we and so many others who are not Christian believe is that a just, caring, fair society where all thrive is the necessary goal for this world.

We Christians come there from our faith stance, from what we read in the Scriptures. But we’re not threatened if others come to the same conclusions as we do for different reasons. Acting politically out of our faith is not us saying we need to be in charge and the rules need to benefit us at the expense of others. Because we belong to God and know God’s priorities, we know it’s not about protecting our particular faith, or even defending God. It’s about working for God’s vision for this world. And we’ll do that with anyone who shares that vision, no matter how they got there, from faith or not, by whatever political party or by none. Love of neighbor is love of neighbor, however it’s arrived at.

“Give to God what belongs to God.” Now we understand what that means for us.

You love God and your neighbor when you vote. You love God and your neighbor when you pay taxes. You love God and your neighbor when you make clear your priority for those taxes and whom you believe should be helped by them. You love God and your neighbor when you bring kindness and compassion to your neighborhood, when you ask it of your city council and your state and national representatives. You love God and your neighbor when you join with others to make this a just and gracious world for all.

The newly appointed General Secretary of the United Church of Canada, the Rev. Michael Blair, recently said in a podcast, “It is not that the Church of God has a mission in the world, but the God of mission has a Church in the world.” ^[1] That’s us. We’re not the only tool God has, the God of mission inspires people in many and varied ways.

But we’re definitely one of God’s tools. Because we know belong to God. And this civic society and government – the “emperor” – belongs to us. And the God of mission needs us to do that mission, for the sake of all God’s children and the creation.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen

^[1] Said in the podcast “Henri Nouwen, Now & Then,” Oct. 8, 2020; henrinouwen.org/now-then-michael-blair/

The Triune God reverses from wrath and enters into the darkness and evil of this world to bear the weight for us, to offer us peace and joy in the love of God that embraces us and the creation.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lectionary 28 A
Texts: Exodus 32:1-14; Psalm 106:1-6, 19-23; Philippians 4:1-9; Matthew 22:1-14

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

God’s anger is terrifying in these readings.

The God who rescued Israel from Egypt, carried them through the Red Sea, fed and watered them in the wilderness is now, at the foot of Mount Sinai, threatening to “consume them.” “Let me alone,” God says to Moses, “so that my wrath may burn hot against them.” God will make Moses the new Abraham, once God has destroyed the others.

If we hear today’s parable in the usual way and assume the ruler in the story stands for the Triune God, then the anger of God in this parable equals the anger at Sinai. The ruler sends troops to the city of those who rejected the invitation, destroys them all, and burns their city.

No one disputes that the Holy and Triune God has every right to be angry at whatever God might be angry at. If we, created in the divine image, can and do get angry, of course we have to believe God can and does. It’s just horrifying to witness here.

It’s not a surprise, though.

God’s anger at Sinai is because these people whom God lovingly broke out of oppression and slavery, saved from the Egyptian army, and provided for in their wandering, have created an idol out of gold and held an orgy in honor of it. Only forty days and nights after receiving the Ten Commandments, Israel’s breaking a bunch of them.

And in the parable, those invited to the wedding feast not only reject the invitation, they mock it. Some go back to their own business, but others seize the representatives and kill them. The ruler is justifiably furious about the treatment of the invitation and these faithful servants.

If we assume that the Holy and Triune God can and does get angry over human behavior, we’re surely not surprised that idolatry, unfaithfulness, blasphemy, and murder would inspire such righteous wrath.

Here’s what we don’t see coming: the Holy and Triune God doesn’t act on this wrath.

At Sinai, Moses “stood in the breach,” as we sang with the psalmist today, and said firmly to the God of the universe: “you can’t do that.” Moses argued that God’s reputation was at stake, that Egypt would witness the destruction of these people and conclude that their God was evil and brought them out just to kill them. And God WHO IS changed God’s own mind about the disaster planned for Israel.

But, you rightly notice, if in the parable we see the ruler as standing for God, there’s no Moses here. The ruler simply sends in the army, kills the wrongdoers, and burns down the city.

The problem is that interpretation doesn’t take into account the end of the parable.

Jesus told this parable in the middle of Holy Week. That accounts for Jesus’ anger and strong language. Jesus is, of course, under tremendous pressure and deeply frustrated at the rejection of the elders of God’s people, as his Holy Week parables reveal. But today’s parable doesn’t end here, where we stopped. This is around Wednesday of Holy Week, and within twenty-four hours Jesus will be kneeling in anguish in Gethsemane. Within forty-eight hours he’ll be dying on the cross. That’s where this parable ends.

And there’s your Moses, my friends. The Holy and Triune God doesn’t need Moses to “stand in the breach” on behalf of God’s people anymore. The Incarnate Son of God stands there now.

In Gethsemane Jesus struggles between wanting to destroy the leaders who rejected God’s embrace, and the divine desire to enter fully into the evil and pain and darkness of the world to draw all things back into God.

And we know Jesus’ final decision in Gethsemane. He will not bring armies of angels to destroy his enemies. He will allow himself to be arrested and tortured and brutally killed. He will, in fact, to use his own words, willingly go into the “outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth” himself. That’s where the ruler in this parable is at the end of it.

This all deeply matters to you and me. It’s not just about the past.

Even if our idolatry doesn’t take the form of a golden calf and an orgy, we seek other things to rule us, things that are more comfortable, visible, tangible, than a God who cannot be seen, who challenges us to live in God’s way. That’s undeniable. What we look to for our greatest good – our finances, our reputation, the approval of others, our own way of doing things, whatever– becomes the driving force in our decisions and actions, not God.

And the invitation to join all people at God’s feast of life, to see God’s celebration as the point of this life and the shape of the next, seems too good to pass up. But we humans pretty easily set aside God’s inclusive invitation in favor of a narrow, self-centered, smaller view that we’re what’s important, our needs are what we care about. Everyone else is on their own.

Seeing God’s wrath at idolatry and rejection is terrifying because we know we do the same things.

Yet Paul says to you today: Rejoice. Don’t be anxious. God is near.

We’ve heard Paul tell us these past weeks that Christ Jesus humbled himself and endured death on the cross, that that is God’s plan and God’s loving action. Not wrath. Not destruction.

And so, Paul has told us, that means that belonging to such a God gives you the confidence, as it did Paul, to live in whatever circumstances you find yourself. Paul knows his sin and failing, and trusts that God’s answer in Christ is grace, not judgment, because of the cross. Paul knows torture, rejection, imprisonment, hunger, suffering, because of following Christ. And yet he is at peace, even in his jail cell, because Christ is with him in the darkness.

It’s simple, Paul says. Jesus reveals that God’s mind is changed to love, not wrath.

So, rejoice in God’s changed mind, Paul says. Pray with thanksgiving to the God who is near you, and God will calm your anxious heart. Focus on what is good, honorable, commendable, just, pure, Paul says. It will help you not be overwhelmed by all the problems we face.

And keep on doing the things you’ve learned and received and heard in Christ, Paul says. Keep being faithful. Stand in the breach for others if they need it, because there is pain and suffering in this world, even if we learn to focus on the good and the commendable and the beautiful. You might be needed in the breach as Christ was needed, to offer your life as love to your neighbor and to the world.

And when you do all these things, Paul says, you will find the God of peace is with you. Not the God of wrath. And that’s life for you, and for the world.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen