Author: MASadmin

¹ Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, ² where for forty days he was tested by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over he was famished. ³ The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” ⁴ Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’ ”

  ⁵ Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. ⁶ And the devil said to him, “To you I will give all this authority and their glory, for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. ⁷ If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” ⁸ Jesus answered him, “It is written,
 ‘Worship the Lord your God,
  and serve only him.’ ”
  ⁹ Then the devil led him to Jerusalem and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, ¹⁰ for it is written,
 ‘He will command his angels concerning you,
  to protect you,’
¹¹ and
 ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
  so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’ ”
¹² Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ” ¹³ When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.

Luke 4:1-13

My sermon from the First Sunday in Lent (March 9, 2025) on Luke 4:1-13.

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Kenny Meyers is an entrepreneur, a techie, and a comic book evangelist who wants to make it easier for you to discover the next great comic you’ll fall in love with. Now I’m pretty sure only a few of us gathered today have even imagined that there might be a comic book we’d want to read. But I do think most of us can recognize when someone – or even ourselves – are so passionate about what they love, they want you and others to discover that same kind of love too. And it’s the type of energy we experience when someone can’t help but share with us that new restaurant or recipe or book or vacation spot or even a new idea that they believe will help us become more of who we already are. It isn’t about, necessarily, persuading us to think or be or take on positions of stuff we never really cared about before. Rather, they have taken the time to know us, to love us, and to be with us in ways that are life-giving and true. And they can recognize a part of us that needs a little something else to help shape us into who we want to be. Kenny, as a comic book fan working in the comic book ecosystem, is trying to do exactly that. He has intentionally been working on developing different ways for people to find comic book shops that actually cater to their wants and needs, as well as helping those who read comics discover that next book they’ll share with all their friends. Helping others discover more about what makes them who they are is one of the greatest gifts we can offer our family, our friends, and every one of our communities. And in today’s reading from the gospel according to Luke, we discover just how human Jesus – and we – get to be. 

Now it is a tradition to begin the season of Lent with this specific story from Jesus’ life. Jesus, after being baptized in the River Jordan by John, was immediately compelled by the Spirit to travel even deeper into the wilderness. This movement was more than trying to form a spiritual connection with Creation by visiting a place untouched by human hands. The wilderness Jesus went to was full of danger, terror, and fear. Every wilderness in our Bible is where our attempts at having any sense of control completely break down. It’s a wilderness we cannot prepare for nor make our own way through. The wilderness is a moment in life when all we can do is lean on God. Those experiences, for us, can be pretty frightening because wanting control is the one thing that guides us through. Yet for the  Son of God to be pushed into that kind of place feels a bit odd since his relationship with the divinity is a little more tangible than our own. Jesus, as we proclaim, was there when the entire universe was made and his identity as part of the Holy Trinity makes his reality a bit different than our own. But his choice to also be 100% human; to discover what it was like to grow up, to be cared for, and to be in relationship with people who have their own stories, experiences, challenges, and joys; makes me wonder if Jesus also discovered the very human desire to be something else. There are times in our life when being us doesn’t seem like it’s enough. We want to be smarter or kinder or richer or willing to take the risks that love invites us to. We desire the power to right every wrong we see and reverse the pain and suffering that our loved ones go through. Having the opportunity to change our situation into whatever feels comfortable and safe – that’s something we would do all the time. And while there are plenty of songs, hymns, poems, podcasts, and self-help books inviting us to celebrate our humanity while doing what we can to maximize our life right now – a sudden illness, a tragic accident, or an experience challenging our own sense of self, worth, and value can make us want to be anybody else. Jesus, who is one of us, might have discovered how non-human we sometimes want to become. And if there’s anyone who could transcend the messiness of life, it would definitely be the One who is always 100% divine too. 

And so, I wonder if Jesus’ temptations were something more than being tempted with the power, authority, and invulnerability we want for ourselves. His time in the wilderness might also have been a kind of test to see if he was so human, he would turn his back on his humanity when things got too hard. When the evil one mocked Jesus by telling him to turn some stones into bread, the temptation was to push beyond the limits of our createdness. Next, when the devil showed Jesus the multitude of ways we wield power over others to control our world, our lives, and our neighbors – Jesus’ very subtle response revealed how being with, rather than dominating over, is what true power always looks like. The Hebrew words underneath the phrase “the Lord our God” are actually two different words for God. One of those names points to one of the primary attributes of God which is always mercy while the other name shows how justice is what makes our God, God. God isn’t in the business of lording over creation to keep everything in line. God, instead, chooses to live with all that God loves while showing that love through mercy, compassion, and hope. And, finally, when the evil one wondered if Jesus would prefer a life free from all restraints, free from our reality; and in the words of Professor Richard Swason – “to be absolutely… invulnerable,” Jesus proclaimed that He would hold onto his humanity because God’s love couldn’t do anything less. 

Jesus, after hearing a heavenly voice proclaim his identity as God’s son at his Baptism, then immediately went into that moment where being human isn’t usually enough. He had, from Christmas to this moment, discovered what it means to be one of us. Jesus had learned to cry, to laugh, to question, to wonder, and argue about who gets to go first while playing with his friends in the marketplace. And when his public ministry was about to begin, his first challenge was to do the very human thing of leaving his humanity behind. Would he succumb to the desire to be something other than who we are? Would he be the One wielding power over creation rather than living with all our wants and needs? Would the Son of God embrace the attributes of God that we often want for only ourselves? Or would this Son of God and this Son of Humankind help all of us discover just how human we can become? Rather than clinging to our desire to be anyone else, we can – like Jesus – embrace who we already are. We can own our fragility, our humanity, and how hard being human truly is. We can, at the same time, learn to love ourselves – the fullest version of our humanity – even if those around us act as if we can’t be who God has made us to be. And, through it all, we can trust that the Jesus who sealed His love on us through the Cross, will transform us into more of who we are. That doesn’t mean there won’t be times we will do everything we can to be something other than who we are. But instead of hoping that our journey with Jesus will take us on a path out of this world, maybe we can see how our time with Jesus is what shows us how truly human we get to be. 

Amen.

²⁸Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James and went up on the mountain to pray. ²⁹And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. ³⁰Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. ³¹They appeared in glory and were speaking about his exodus, which he was about to fulfill in Jerusalem. ³²Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep, but as they awoke they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. ³³Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us set up three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah,” not realizing what he was saying. ³⁴While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them, and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. ³⁵Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” ³⁶When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen. 

Luke 9:28-36

My sermon from the Transfiguration (March 2, 2025) on Luke 9:28-36.

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I’m pretty sure there’s a bunch of stories in our Bible we don’t fully understand. And while that can be annoying, I’m here to say that’s okay. It’s incredibly faithful to hear all these prophecies, dreams, and experiences that have been passed down for over two thousand years and not know how to handle them. And when we find ourselves hearing a story we don’t really get, God often uses those words to expand our spiritual imagination. The Transfiguration is, I think, meant to be one of those kinds of stories. It’s a moment in Jesus’ life where an epiphany – aka a revelation or manifestation of God – took place. Jesus, according to Luke, took three of his friends up a mountain top to pray since even God knows how important it is to occasionally take a break. Jesus’ friends, at that moment, were a little worn out since they had traveled with Jesus from the shores of the Sea of Galilee to Tyre and beyond. They were there when Jesus healed the sick, casted out demons, and heard words challenging their own understanding of their lives and their world. It was a lot and they needed their sleep. But there came a moment when even their closed eyelids couldn’t stop the light shining in front of them. 

Now, in the past, the English translation of the Bible we used in worship tried to make this story seem a little sensible. The translators recognized how there was a bit of a mystery in Luke’s version of the story so they used Matthew and Mark’s version to fill in some of the details. That translation, known as the New Revised Standard version, described what Jesus went through by focusing on what he was wearing. The brightness he embodied was, as we see in the other texts, enhanced by his clothes becoming extremely white. Yet the ancient Greek words Luke used to tell this story never included “white” at all. Our attempt to make this story more understandable missed noticing how Luke wasn’t really trying to explain it. For Luke, the transfiguration is an experience that becomes way too safe, shallow, and small when we try to describe it at all. What these three friends of Jesus experienced was seeing Jesus radiate with an aura and an energy they couldn’t be pushed away. I like to imagine, as they napped, their darkness behind their eyelines was replaced by a light they couldn’t ignore. And so, when they finally opened their eyes and looked at Jesus, what they witnessed wasn’t Jesus ready to go to a so-called “white party” during the summer. Staring at Jesus was, instead, like looking at a flash of lighting or staring at the noon day sun or being a bit too close to an atomic blast. We expect, I think, that our prayers with Jesus would be rather serene, hopeful, and extremely comfortable. But the revelation they received instead was completely life-changing and terrifying. 

It’s hard for us, though, to recognize how frightening Jesus was because we have a different kind of relationship with the divine. To us, a holy moment feels like a warm hug around the shoulders and an aura of peace that feels like it will never end. But in Jesus’ day, people recognized how different holiness and divinity truly were. In a world that was created, the uncreated would be wild and free. It was assumed that when the divine showed up that wasn’t through dreams or messengers or even mystical signs stirring our heart – whatever that divinity ran into would be completely consumed. As Jesus’ intensity grew, Peter, James, and John’s fear grew too. They needed something to calm their troubled spirits but received, instead, a doubling down as two figures from their own ancestral story chose to show up. The miracle Jesus’ friends lived through wasn’t seeing Jesus transfigure into something new. The miracle was that after everything was said and done, they were still alive. Peter’s response to his survival was to do the very biblical thing of making something to mark the spot where God showed up. But I also wonder if, while that particular moment washed over him, if Peter wasn’t also excited to see Jesus’ power manifested in exactly the way they hoped it would be. Jesus’ might; Jesus’ strength; this outward presence of the divine and holy Son of God literally on earth – this display was the kind of Jesus they had always wanted. On that mountain top, he was lit up with more power  than the noon-day desert sun they often saw reflecting off the shields and helmets of all the Roman soldiers that patrolled the land. The Jesus who burned was the Jesus who embodied everything they believed the Messiah to be. We often act as if the display of power and its outward appearance are what true power, strength, and might really look like. And when Jesus transfigured on the mountaintop, he seemed to finally look the part. He was like an atomic blast, growing, and spreading but one that was already on the disciples side. Jesus’ friends, I imagine, sensed that this was the Jesus they wanted to lead them to Jerusalem. And if he did, then even Rome itself might fall under the radiant thumb of the Son of God. 

It wasn’t long, though, before that that moment was completely over. The cloud, the booming voice, and the intense light were suddenly gone. The remnant of what Peter, John, and James had seen was still burned into the back of their eyeballs. Yet the mountaintop was just a mountaintop and Jesus’ clothes and face were as dusty as they had always been. What was left behind was simply Jesus and his friends exactly as they were. And while the Jesus Peter, John, and James so desperately wanted to share with others had been right there – the Jesus they got was the One they already knew. It was the Jesus who chose to be for people; the one who chose to surround himself with the sick and the marginalized. It was the Jesus who knew that wealth, power, military might, and our social status would never be what truly defined it. The Jesus who could burn with the power of the sun chose to be a loving Son to a world that’s too often covered in shadow. All the mercy; all the compassion; and choosing to see people as those who truly bear the image of God – that was, and will always be, how God’s true divinity – and power – shines. The God we get isn’t the God we necessarily want because the power we desire isn’t the kind of power God chooses to wield. What God chooses to do is simply love which is a bit of a mystery to us since we often struggle to love ourselves and others too. But whenever we witness someone caring without the expectation for any reward; when we choose to accept the sacrifices that always come with helping others thrive; when we realize that hoarding what we don’t need isn’t God’s vision for our world; and when we listen more, talk less, and embrace hope rather than commit ourselves to causing harm – it’s then when we are embodying the holy gift of the divine we were given since Jesus has already chosen you to be part of what God’s love will look like in the world. And while there are times when we want God to show up like a flash of lighting on a mountain top, what we get instead is a God who chooses to come down the mountain and walk with us through whatever valley we end up wandering through. The Transfiguration isn’t about finally understanding who our Jesus truly is. It’s about realizing that God’s power is always made real in a love that never ends. 

Amen.

[Jesus said:] ²⁷“But I say to you who are listening: Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; ²⁸bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you. ²⁹If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. ³⁰Give to everyone who asks of you, and if anyone takes away what is yours, do not ask for it back again. ³¹Do to others as you would have them do to you.
 
³²“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. ³³If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. ³⁴If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. ³⁵Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. ³⁶Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

³⁷“Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; ³⁸give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”

Luke 6:27-38

My sermon from the 7th Sunday after Epiphany (February 23, 2025) on Luke 6:27-38.

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Last fall, a bunch of videos appeared online showing what it takes to feed a family. Spread out on a kitchen island or a dining room table was a week’s worth of food purchased at the supermarket as well as the receipt showing how much it cost. The response to these videos varied greatly, with even a few making it onto cable news. And while those videos offered a glimpse of how expensive this ingredient necessary for life can be, most of them were focused on generating engagement, getting attention, and justifying a specific political choice. Food is a necessity and not many of us can easily absorb what happens when something like eggs jumps in price by 30% since January. It’s really hard being a parent, a child, a student, a teacher, a grandparent, or even just a friend when food insecurity is all we have. And while those videos could have been focused on that reality, they were really about “winning” some kind of verbal contest. But if we look past the rhetoric, the vibes, the need to go viral, and all the partisan talking points, it was actually pretty brave for people to show others why they buy the food that they do. All those cans and boxes and bags full of produce told a story about what feeds their bodies and souls. For some, their grocery bill was a bit less than we’d expect since they prioritized ingredients rather than food that was already prepared. These folks had the time, energy, and mental space to actually come up with an idea whenever their kids asked: “what’s for dinner?” It’s possible the act of cooking allowed them to unwind after a difficult day, serving as a way to love those around them. Other families, though, don’t always have the time, energy, or desire to create a dish out of the stuff in their fridge. Their life revolves around popping something into the air fryer or placing an order through their phone at the end of a very long day. The stresses and joys that come with all our callings sometimes means we need the starches, salts, and sugars corporations and restaurants make. And when that’s the case, inflation shows up in very annoying ways. We might assume there is one kind of household – either ingredients based or convenience based – that is better than the other. But I think it’s much more faithful to notice how what we eat – and what its cost – is merely one ingredient making up the life we get to live. The other ingredients that influence our food include our culture, background, financial security, hopes, dreams, relationships, and even our politics. And when we take time to notice all the ingredients that make us who we are, we get a better glimpse of who Jesus calls us to be. 

Now this is our second week listening to Jesus’ “sermon on the plain.” He, after gathering together an initial group of disciples, was surrounded by a multitude of people from throughout ancient Israel and beyond. Luke explicitly shared that the community around Jesus came to not only learn from him but also wanted to be healed. They longed for a kind of wholeness they believed only Jesus could bring. This community, though, had a bit of trouble seeing Jesus since he chose to be in the middle of them. He stayed level and regularly bent down to connect with those brought to him by their friends. I can almost imagine those in the crowd bending, weaving, and stretching their necks while trying to get a glimpse of the One who might help them live in a different way. But every time they looked for Jesus, they saw a mass of humanity that Jesus’ presence connected them to instead. After making time to listen, care, and treat those around him as the beloved children of God they already were, Jesus then shifted what he was up to by launching into a sermon. He began by first saying that those we despise are often those who God sees as blessed and that our so-called “winning” often creates woes that devour us and our friends. Jesus wasn’t merely pointing to our next life might be. He, instead, reiterated how the ingredients we claim define our life are often flawed and wrong. Chasing after wealth and power and whatever “winning” looks like isn’t what God wanted for us in the first place. Life could be different if we paid better attention to the actual ingredients God gives us. So Jesus, after naming God’s blessing and reminding us of the woes we choose instead, invited those around him to see life differently. What would it be like if we loved our enemies as much as our friends? What would we need to define our lives by something other than retribution and vengeance? Would it be possible to have the courage to support those who couldn’t give us anything back in return? And what would this moment be like if we focused on what we could give rather than on what we feel entitled to get? At the heart of Jesus’ words is, I think, a trust that God’s presence reverses most of our expectations. Life isn’t meant to be a game we’re trying to win. Instead, life is what happens when we look for God at the center of it all. And when we do, what we see is that mass of humanity that God loves too. 

But what that life looks like will, I think, vary from person to person. It isn’t always easy to be generous at every moment of our lives. The one ingredient in life that is pretty much always constant is change. And while there are moments when we can, and should, be generous – there are other times when we’re the ones who need help instead. Learning how to care and to let go of our pride, stubbornness, and the need to make enemies fundamental to who we choose to be, is how we let love grow. And this love, for Jesus, isn’t something we have; love is lived out through the relationships we have with God and with others. These relationships aren’t simply limited to something romantic or familial; they also include those strangers we’re meeting for the very first time. Realizing how difficult this kind of life can be might leave a bit of a knot in our stomach since Jesus’ words feel like the ingredients for a way of life we’ll always, somehow, fail at one time or another. But Jesus didn’t only share these words to only one person; he spoke them to a crowd who, while looking for him, saw all kinds of people too. We, with the spirit’s help, can let the ingredients named by Jesus for our life flow through us while participating in a community that can do those things when we can’t. When forgiveness, love, mercy, or generosity becomes too much, Jesus connects us to others who get to take on those until we’re ready to live that way again. That doesn’t mean we get to pretend we’re something other than we’re not to get out of what God calls us to do. Rather, it lets us be for and with each other through all that life brings while discovering God’s imagination for our lives and for our world. God doesn’t call us to win at life since life is a game we could never win on our own. What we need – and what we have – is a God who, through the Cross, won an eternal life for us and all who God claims as their own. Jesus has changed the ingredients for what life should be so that our life can take the ingredients of His love to show ourselves and others what it means to follow Him. 

Amen.

5Thus says the Lord:
 Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals
  and make mere flesh their strength,
  whose hearts turn away from the Lord.
6They shall be like a shrub in the desert
  and shall not see when relief comes.
 They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness,
  in an uninhabited salt land.
7Blessed are those who trust in the Lord,
  whose trust is the Lord.
8They shall be like a tree planted by water,
  sending out its roots by the stream.
 It shall not fear when heat comes,
  and its leaves shall stay green;
 in the year of drought it is not anxious,
  and it does not cease to bear fruit.
 9The heart is devious above all else;
  it is perverse— who can understand it?
 10I the Lord test the mind and search the heart,
  to give to all according to their ways,
  according to the fruit of their doings.

Jeremiah 17:5-10

My sermon from the 6th Sunday after Epiphany (February 16, 2025) on Jeremiah 17:5-10.

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So this is the second weekend in a row when a Saturday night storm made this moment a bit unsettled. For almost sixteen hours, all kinds of water – snow, ice, sleet, and rain – have fallen from the sky. This water is simply doing what it’s supposed to do, seeking out the easiest path from the sky to the ground. We, though, have done our best to get in some of that water’s way by building a roof over our heads. Water, though, has a habit of seeping through any expectation we have. And a couple of weeks ago, I noticed a cardboard box sitting on a cabinet in the church office that was completely soaked. It was then when I noticed along one of the walls all kinds of water stains and paint peeling off the walls. Our property team and others at the church quickly responded to this issue by contacting our roofers and setting up a few dehumidifiers when the office began to smell. Their generous and faithful work is amazing but we’re still not exactly sure how the water is seeping through. There’s been storms over the last little bit that have left a puddle of water on the cabinets and other storms that have left the room completely dry. And while the search for the leak continues, I can’t help being a little annoyed and a bit anxious about what’s seeping through a building we’ve put a lot of time, energy, and money into. Watching and waiting for the water to seep through the roof can be very stressful. And in today’s first reading we heard from our Bible, the prophet Jeremiah points out how there are other things other than water that seep into us, becoming what we trust and believe.
Now over these last few weeks, we’ve spent quite a bit of time with the prophets. We heard Isaiah give voice to the message God called him to share 900 years before Jesus was born and how those same words shaped Jesus’ understanding of his own mission and call. A prophet is a person called by God to share a message inviting people to re-center their relationship with God and with one another. And in ancient Israel and Judah, the role of prophet was identified as a kind of religious leader that some kings and queens supported with money and resources. But when a religious leader ends up becoming part of a leader’s entourage, their message can become primarily a way to reinforce whatever their leader wants. There are a number of books in our Bible named after prophets; yet these prophets were the reluctant ones who weren’t really supported since God told them to push back against those who assumed God was always on their side. Jeremiah’s work began around the year 626 BCE and his words seeped into the life of the kingdom of Judah for the next forty years. Those in power assumed they were the blessed ones since they had wealth, resources, and could tell others what to do. People assumed that those kinds of resources were extremely limited and so those who had more than enough were seen as entitled to what they assumed God had given to them. This self-reinforcing fantasy masquerading as common sense valued keeping things as they were or returning to some romanticized past where only the right kind of people were in control. But when Jeremiah began to preach, the Babylonian Empire located in modern Iraq had started to grow. Those living in Judah and Jerusalem grew anxious as kingdoms came to fall to these outsiders from the East. The community responded by trying to form new alliances, strengthen their military, invest in their borders, and even embraced non-Jewish religious practices as a way to convince the divine to act on their behalf. Over time, their anxiety grew into a story of safety and greatness that even the prophets working for the king promised God would respond if Babylon’s armies ever broke through. Jeremiah, though, brought a different kind of message – proclaiming that it was God who was leading Babylon’s armies against them. The community had put so much of their trust in their wealth, their power, and their own understanding of what was holy and true that God had to respond. This trust had seeped so deeply into their lives, those incharge and those who supported them couldn’t even see what they had become. Their trust was reflected in the ways they treated their God through the harm perpetuated on the poor, the orphan, and those they chose to marginalize. They believed life was only meant for the right kind of people and their desire to dominate others had not gone unnoticed by their God. The community was so wrapped up in what they were, they couldn’t even listen to those around them showing how dry, dusty, and cruel their hearts had become.
And so Jeremiah, throughout his career, pointed to something else that could seep into their souls instead. We shouldn’t assume that the status quo, our traditions, or our expectations are a kind of holy foundation of who we get to be in the world. Every one of us has the opportunity to not let a sense of goodness, purpose, or faithfulness be the limit of what our life should be. And that’s because our God will continue to shape the foundation parts of who we choose to be. When we refuse to act as if God is still changing us, we become the shrub in the desert failing to realize how much more we can become. Saying we trust God isn’t always enough since what we do, say, what we listen to, and how we treat the most vulnerable among us reveals what we really trust instead. We might act as if this moment and our future depends on our wealth; what we hoard; and a deep sense of entitlement assuming certain opportunities belong only to us. We might choose to act as if the gifts God has given us, like our intelligence or our work ethnic, is only for us and not a world desperately in need. There are a million different ways we make our God small by choosing to put our trust in all the other stuff seeping into our lives that pretend only one kind of identity, purpose, goal, or culture is allowed to be. God, though, knows that these limits will not be the end-all-be-all since something else has already seeped into our lives. When you were baptized, the water that fell on you did what it was supposed to do. Some of it fell off the side of your face, seeking the ground, while other drops seeped into your skin and hair. It was that water, united with the promises of God, that became the new water meant for the roots of your soul. The promises of God – of an eternal life that has already started; of a union with a holy family stretching beyond all time and space; and the promise that your value isn’t based on what you have done or will do but on God’s love for you alone – that is at the heart of who we get to be. This does not mean life will always be easy nor that we won’t often put our trust in things that cause woes, death, and destruction rather than hope and peace. But it does mean that what we get to trust is that we truly are worth living, dying, and rising for. This is a gift that none of us are entitled to but one that helps us do the hard thing of loving God; loving our neighbor; and of choosing to serve those we don’t fully understand – no matter what comes next. And when we truly trust that the God who was born, who lived, who loved, who laughed, who cried, and who died on a Cross with arms open to all – when we trust the God who is with and for us all of our days and beyond – that’s when we begin discover how our true life has already begun.

Amen.