 By Julie Carew, Lay Preacher
God, we thank you today for those in this faithful community, both present now and departed from us, and for our intersecting lives and the way you move in and through them. AMEN. We see a few descriptions in our readings today of what the kingdom of God does or will look like. In Daniel, “..the Holy ones of the Most High shall receive the kingdom and possess the kingdom for ever - for ever and ever.” Psalm 149 references a “congregation of the faithful”. In Ephesians 1 the author is writing to those who heard, believed and “were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit… and references “the pledge of our inheritance as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory”. In the last section of today’s Gospel from Luke, Jesus talks to “you that listen” giving guidelines for how his followers should live. I think most of us would agree that the communion of saints will be vast, that there will be far more people than we can possibly know in our lifetimes. And it also seems clear in these readings that it is now, and will be in the future, a community. I imagine it as a myriad of circles of people coming together, realizing a common purpose, a common belief and a common love. Today, on this All Saints Day, we have the opportunity to hold close the people in our own circles who are no longer with us. I want to take a moment first to recognize that we lose people in different ways. Some to death, some to distance, some to circumstances or boundaries that need to be set. These are all losses, they all leave spaces in our circles and I think it would be best to give ourselves the chance to remember and reflect on all of them. So, who do we remember today? Those who formed us, Those who are part of us, Those who shared their lives and love with us, Those who touched our lives just briefly, Those whose stories moved us, ALL those we don’t want to forget. Why do we remember? Honestly, sometimes it feels easier not to. Remembering can be a significant emotional lift, but what if we could find a way to keep our beloved ones present enough that we can easily access those memories, those lessons learned, and experiences shared, in little pieces all throughout our lives? Our lives are so much richer having known all those we want to remember- having heard their stories, experienced their presence, shared in their lives and they in ours. How do we remember? Giving ourselves space and time is essential. We have days for remembering- like today- also birthdays, holidays, as well as physical locations, and experiences we have shared. We can set up places for remembering- a display of photos, keepsakes, letters- or maybe visiting a special place, a physical location, where we can sit with our memories of them. Where do we see their footprints in our lives? Where do we feel their presence? Can we find a place where the gratitude for having loved them feels greater than the sorrow of having lost them? What about remembering them in a way that encourages us and those around us, living their legacy into our own lives and into those of others? Can we use a memory of their resilience to build us up when things are difficult? Can we remember how deeply and truly they knew us when we feel alone? Can we share something they taught us in helping someone else feel known or understood? Can we let the way they shared their lives with us challenge us to invest in someone else? I am grateful, and I hope you are too, for the space today to think about how we remember those we have lost, and maybe discover a new way of doing so. Let us also consider- what is the legacy that we will leave, how will we be remembered? We have some pretty clear guidelines about how we should live our lives given to us here in Luke: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat, do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.” When I think back to the memories I have of those I have lost, the moments that stand out to me the most are those that were unexpected- a response that was the opposite of what I would have guessed- an especially tender moment with someone I hadn’t experienced that with before which made me aware of a deeper love and connection, a joke in a dark moment, an unforeseen generosity, an outburst of levity in a moment where we really needed it. These unexpected moments reveal the heart of someone, they show us that someone has let down their guard, let go of what is “supposed” to happen- of who they are “supposed” to be- and given us a window into who they are. These actions Jesus is describing are exactly that. Do we have (and if not, will we make) space in our lives for that freedom? Moving through life with enough openness to receive a prompting from God that is unexpected and maybe not our first reaction, but to be able to hear it and act on it? This is true generosity, to shift our focus from holding on to giving away, from reserving to giving all that we can in a moment in which it is truly needed, from worrying about the evenness, the fairness of things, to acting in a way that truly meets someone in their need in that moment. And that last sentence, “Do unto others as you would have them do to you.” That is the most beautiful part to me- what an awesome way God helps ensure that “others”, (meaning all of us, right?) who love in all kinds of different ways have opportunities to receive love in just as many different ways. In our deepest knowing of ourselves, how do we wish others would treat us? What is it that you wish someone would do for you? I know I feel most loved and cared for when I feel like someone has really gotten to know me, sees me for who I am and responds to me in a way that makes me feel both of those things in a very real way. So we can do that for those we are close to, knowing that we have the gift of being a person in their life who can know and love them in the way they most need. And also, I am filled with a special kind of joy when the act or response of someone I hardly know is exactly what I need in that moment. That always feels to me like an unexpected gift from God. If each of us goes out and treats others the way that we want to be treated, surely there will be some commonalities there. And hopefully we all will recognize and embrace at least some of that love as exactly what we needed when it was given to us. What an amazing plan of allowing for all different kinds of love to be given and received in abundance! As we go out from this All Saints Day service, let us make space throughout our lives to remember, to lift our faces to the sky and allow ourselves to be touched by the memories of those we have loved and those who have loved us. Let us share who we are, who God made us to be in this world, with those in our lives. Let us share stories of our faith and God’s faithfulness with those who will listen. Let us be open to all possibilities and act when we can help be what is needed for someone else along this journey of life. Let us all help make this, our part of the congregation, the community of the faithful, be one that we value and live into in this life, for what it is to all of us now and in the hope of what it will be in the life to come. Amen.
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 By Julie Carew, Lay Preacher
I’m sure it will come as a surprise to few of you that music plays a HUGE part in my life. I listen to music, a lot of it, and have for as long as I can remember. I go through many different phases in my musical listening and tend to get stuck, in a good way, to dwell, if you will, in certain genres for a while and then move on to another, coming back when I want to revisit. And then there are a few specific times when only certain music feels appropriate. Saturday afternoons growing up often meant hanging out in the kitchen with my dad listening to jazz, so that’s a go-to for me at similar times. My husband, Dan, and I have collected many Christmas albums over the years, and even made our own the first year we were married, and those always came out of the box and got lots of use between the end of November and Christmas Day, until the old CD player stopped playing them. In March, our house is filled with Irish tunes, and my son Hendrick knew the words (if you can call them that) to the chorus of “Whiskey in the Jar” from a very early age…. I think this is true for a lot of folks, but I’ll speak for myself here. Music helps me feel things, and can help me to stay in something a little longer, even though it might be uncomfortable. Sometimes it’s something I’m seeking out, sometimes it’s something unexpected that can catch me off guard. But if I’m really listening, it’s hard for me not to be moved by what I’m listening to. So, the first thing that struck me when I read through the passages in the liturgy for today, was thinking of a few songs that have been written from a couple of them. Let’s start with Psalm 84. Parts of the song “Better is One Day” by English singer/songwriter, Matt Redman, were taken right from the text of this psalm, and a few other psalms as well. Here’s how it begins: “How lovely is Your dwelling place, Oh Lord Almighty My soul longs and even faints for You For here my heart is satisfied, within Your presen I sing beneath the shadow of Your wings Better is one day in Your courts Better is one day in Your house Better is one day in Your courts Than thousands elsewhere” And later in the song, “My heart and flesh cry ou For You the living God Your Spirit's water for my soul I've tasted and I've seen, Come once again to me. I will draw near to You.” This song, when I first learned it, and even when I hear it now, is a reminder to me that no matter what I am facing, walking through, wrestling with, I am better off dwelling with God than without, and that I would still choose that, no matter what. It also speaks of longing for God, for the times when we don’t feel as close, having experienced God before, and seeking God again, but not quite being there yet. This song is comforting and inspiring and has certainly been a favorite of mine. The passage from Malachi is a little tougher. Here, we hear of an answer to seekers of a day of the Lord’s return that will be not so comforting. Here, we hear of a refining fire, not exactly warm and fuzzy, to say the least. This isn’t a passage that is comfortable for dwelling in, but I think that’s exactly the point. This passage brings to my mind a song put out by Jennifer Knapp, written by Kim Bontrager, the year before Matt Redman released “Better is One Day”. This song is called “Refine Me” and it’s a beautiful song to listen to, and yet the lyrics are very challenging. “I come into this place Burnin' to receive Your peace I come with my own chains From wars I fought for my own selfish gai …Lord, come with Your fi Burn my desires, refine Lord, my will has deceived me Please come free me, refine m This song speaks of a part of the spiritual process that often doesn’t feel so great, but can also help us to experience and hear from God. There is an acknowledgement that parts of ourselves (sometimes seemingly very good, strong parts) can stand in the way of leaning on God, and a desire for God to help us get those things out of the way- a purification process that brings us closer to God. This is, in a sense, what Jesus’s parents were seeking as they came to the temple in today’s Gospel passage. They made a sacrifice of doves or pigeons for purification, in order to be right with the Lord. This was the system of sacrifices, called korbanot, that were set up in order to allow “access” to God. Rabbi Daniel Kirzane explains that, “Korbanot were used to draw people closer to God. Israelites brought of erings of animals, grain, or money to the kohanim (ko-ha-neem), and the kohanim in turn of ered them as sacrifices to God. This was the main process used to connect ancient Jews with God. People gave up their prized possessions as a symbol of their dedication to God, and this became the most important part of Jewish worship. After the destruction of the Temple in the year 70 CE, Jews stopped of ering korbanot. Instead, they began to of er prayers. The rabbis taught us that we can become closer to God with the words of our mouths rather than with physical sacrifices… …The korbanot teach us that we have to give something of ourselves in order to draw nearer to God. They teach us that it can be easier to come close to God with the help of other people rather than all by ourselves. And they teach us that prayer can be deeper when we use ancient rituals. In all these ways, the korbanot still lead us to holiness today.”1 All of this makes me wonder about how and when I approach God, would you join me in that for a moment?
I wonder if you, like me, find that it often seems like it’s easier to just do things myself, to coast along and maintain, even to ignore the promptings of the Holy Spirit, rather than recognize what is happening, ask for help and pause to seek an answer. When we live with only ourselves in view, it can be easy to put on our blinders and push through, but when we make space for God to reveal the bigger picture to us, as challenging as that can be, we may find ourselves with an opportunity to speak up and speak truth. So, in considering all of this together- the acknowledgement that nowhere is better than in the presence, the company, of God- accessing God’s wisdom, truth, compassion and power; and also, knowing that there can be barriers both in ourselves and around us that can stand in the way- I wonder, what might God be refining in us? What if we allow or even invite that refining? Do we, can we, trust that it will bring us closer and allow us space to truly dwell with God? Worship, whether it’s through song, presence, sacrifice or prayer, is often deeply personal, as we relate to God on an individual level, and it’s essential for each of us to do that. And also, what power there is when we come together- as people open to hearing, seeing and being transformed, in communion with God and each other, noticing all that is happening to and around us, speaking up and acting in truth and love. That’s a place I truly want to dwell. Amen 1 https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/understanding-biblical-sacrifice-korbanot/#:~:text=Korbanot%20 were%20used%20to%20draw,connect%20ancient%20Jews%20with%20God.  I wonder how many times you have read or heard the story of David and Bathsheba? It’s a story I’ve definitely been familiar with for a long time, and the way I have heard or read it has most often been from David’s perspective. David sees someone beautiful, someone who catches his attention, a woman he asks about, wanting to know more about- someone he deeply desires and (in his mind) who he needs to be with. David sends for Bathsheba, she comes to be with him, and she goes back home. And then, there is trouble- this isn’t going to be just a one-time tryst, as she is now pregnant. And this isn’t something that is going to be easily hidden or explained, as her husband Uriah is away. David tries to get out of this trouble by bringing Bathsheba’s husband back to her, but he stays away from her, and shows his integrity. He doesn’t think it’s right for him to enjoy being with her while his men are out and still in danger. So, David has to take more drastic action and sends Uriah out to the front lines, setting him up to be killed. And when we pick up the reading in today’s passage from the Hebrew Bible, it all works out for David, his problem is solved, Bathsheba becomes his wife and bears him a son. Phew- right?! Well, except for that last part of Chapter 11, the very end of verse 27- “But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord,” Whoops, David. So, God sends Nathan to help David understand, and how does he do that? By helping him see what he has done from the perspective of Uriah. So David comes to see that he has done something very wrong to Uriah and has sinned against God. We even see in Psalm 51 how very sorry David is and how he pleads with God to help him. I think it’s safe to say that we can all see, in looking at this story, that David did some awful, terrible, maybe some would say unforgivable, things. If we read it as presented from David’s perspective or even as Nathan presents it to David, recognizing Uriah’s perspective, it's awful, AND, unfortunately, when we look at it from Bathsheba’s perspective, it’s worse. Many of us were likely brought up with a patriarchal view of stories in the Bible. We are generally told the perspectives of the men in these stories and the women are referred to as property or possessions, when they’re included at all, except for a very select few. In fact, there exist interpretations which place the blame of seduction and adultery on Bathsheba. But, what if we look at this story through a different lens? Dr Wil Gafney, a prolific womanist theologian says, about Psalm 51, “It is ostensibly David’s psalm of repentance after his abduction, rape, and forced impregnation of Bathsheba, and his subsequent murder of her husband. Yet he does not mention her or his specific transgressions against her in it. To be fair, the biblical text constructs David’s sin as being against God and Uriah, her husband, but not against her.” So yes, the Bible lays it out for us with this patriarchal lens, but if we really look at what it says, David took Bathsheba because he could. He was the king. He saw someone he wanted, and without regard for who it would impact, he claimed her. He didn’t need a wife, he had at least 6, not to mention access to servants or prostitutes. He ended up taking everything from Uriah and he also took everything from Bathsheba. When David spotted Bathsheba and sent for her, she didn’t have the choice to say no. She was taken by and for David and then sent back home when he was done with her, where everything was now different- and that was just the beginning. David’s sin took the life of her husband (who honestly seemed like a pretty stand-up guy) and also the life of her yet unborn child. So what can we learn from this awful story? When Nathan comes to David and tells him the story about the beloved lamb of the poor man being taken by the rich man, it’s clear to David who is in the wrong. Whether David recognized the effect that his actions had on Bathsheba or only on her husband and God, he knows he is wrong and instead of denying it, he immediately recognizes it, owns it and also faces the consequences (as did the others involved). I wonder if it’s easy for us to write this off, finding comfort in feeling like what David did was far worse than anything we’ve ever done. But, what if instead, we looked at where we might have done something that resulted in others being wronged, and look at how we have owned up to our actions? Likely we’ve all had moments during which we may have been so driven by what we wanted that we ignored the impact on others- times when we might have told ourselves we needed something or deserved something because of a position of power or a certain role that we had, or because of something we had accomplished. But when we don’t consider our actions through lenses other than our own, we run the risk of harming others. Living where we live, in this time, in this city, in this country, we all carry privilege- it’s different for each of us, but it comes from our gender, our economic status, our appearance, our skin color, our upbringing, our life experience, our family background, the ableness of our bodies, our education, et cetera. If we’re not careful to consider the ramifications our actions- even our basic daily decisions about if and what to purchase, what we say, what we eat, what we wear, how we get around- hold consequences, some more present and immediate than others. And what about the sins of our nation, and the hundreds of years during which all humans weren’t valued the same? While our laws now don’t allow for this in an obvious way, this is still happening. And our ancestors’ lives still have great impact on our lives today- when the opportunities our ancestors had were vastly different from those of others, we aren’t starting on level ground. We continue to run into the consequences of our sins as a nation and it’s a scary thing. We are so divided, half of us think the other half is at fault, wrong and probably worse than that too. We can’t see eye to eye and we can’t understand each other. I believe there’s something in this story about what our role is going forward from here, like not being paralyzed by the fear of what is to come. David faces the consequences laid out before him and looks to God to help him work through it. Most of the time, we are likely not confronted with our behavior like David is here, but if we hold ourselves accountable, looking to God to help us find our role in changing things and recognize what gifts we have that we can contribute, we begin to move towards a better future for everyone. I see many of you in our church and in our community working diligently for what you believe in and encouraging each other to do the same! And also, looking to the future in the life of our country, it’s easy to feel hopeless, and I think for some of us it’s tempting to say something like what I read between David’s lines, “I won’t like this, but I’ll survive”. The thing is, even if we aren’t directly vulnerable, there are others who won’t survive- those whose lives will be made unsustainable. We all need to try to look at this from their perspective, through their lens. Who would those be? Those who are already facing challenges of poverty, those who rely on the systems currently in place to support themselves, those needing and unable to access reproductive healthcare, individuals seeking acknowledgment of unfair treatment that they still face today, LGBTQIA+ individuals who are outright persecuted for who they are. We can’t just sit back and let this happen. Now is the time to work to protect and look out for people around us who are or will be affected even more than we are. So what do we do? I think we need to ask ourselves, individually and as a community- whose perspective are we missing? Who has God placed in our lives, in our paths through whose lens we can see things differently? Whose voice is in danger of being silenced that we can listen for and amplify? What privilege do we have that we can use for the good of our siblings who might not have as much? How might the audience we have be affected by hearing other voices? How are we connected, how can we be more connected? In these next critical months, may we take seriously our place in God’s Beloved Community, and open our ears and eyes to the others here with us. May we look to God to help us keep our hearts and minds open and consider the perspectives of others in all that we do. And may God help us to see how we can use what we have and what we can access to help those who are in this Beloved Community with us. Amen.  By Julie Carew, Lay Preacher
Immanuel, God with us, thank you for this glimpse into your last days physically here on earth. Help us to seek you and see you here with us, today and everyday. Amen. As a musician and a huge fan of music in general, I’m always intrigued when a “secular” artist puts out a song about God or about faith. One of these songs came out just as I was beginning college and introduced me to a singer of whom I would be a longtime fan, and who I saw live again just last year. The song is called “One of Us” and the singer is Joan Osborne. The song was written by one of her bandmates and was the first single released from her debut album, Relish. This song hit at a time when I was really seeking God, trying to figure out what that meant, piecing together what I had learned as a kid at church and what I was experiencing myself, away at school. In “One of Us”, we are invited to imagine what it would be like to have God living among us as a human. One of the verses in the song is: “If God had a face what would it look like? And would you want to see If seeing meant that you would have to believe In things like heaven and in Jesus and the Saints And all the prophets??” I really think that’s an interesting question for what we read this morning in John. Imagine with me for a moment, the scene here. Jesus has fed the 5,000, healed the blind man, raised Lazarus, Mary has anointed him, and yes, even though it is not yet Palm Sunday for us, ridden into Jerusalem on a donkey. He is causing a scene, drawing all kinds of attention and the Pharisees are really getting concerned. Just before we pick up the story in verse 20, the Pharisees are saying to one another, “You see that you can do nothing; look, the world has gone after him.” And then some Greeks come up to Philip asking to see Jesus. The first time we met Philip was in John 1 and as a new disciple, he was invited by Jesus to “Follow” him and he then invited others to “Come and See”. It seems like this is bringing things around, full circle, for Philip as he now has the chance to lead these Greeks to Jesus. Philip is a Greek name- Bethsaida, his hometown was governed by Philip, son of Herod, and was also the hometown of Andrew and Peter and they are the only 3 disciples who do not have Semitic names. Perhaps this is why these Greeks approached Philip as the person who might help them on their quest to see Jesus. The Greek word used here is ὁράω, (hor-ah'-o) which means to see not just with the eyes, but with the mind, to behold. These Greeks are looking to fully experience Jesus. We don’t know who these Greeks are, but we can make some guesses as to why they come into John’s narrative at this point and what that means. It seems as though their request is significant to Jesus, that it is perhaps a message to him that his teachings have gone out beyond his known followers, and may be (at least a part of) why at this point he says, “the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified”. We have seen him say the opposite- that the time had not yet come- several times before this point in his ministry. As Jesus shifts to talking about the time that has come and what that means, we know there are those (we hear of a few- Judas and Peter, for instance) who don’t want to see this part- either it doesn’t align with what they expected or hoped, or the timing is not right and they’re not ready. When we seek Jesus, whether that’s through Scripture or prayer or in guidance from others who know him, are we open to hearing what he might actually say? Do we approach Jesus with our own expectations of what the answer should be, or are we looking for and waiting on his answer? - Jesus does not address these Greeks directly, and we’re actually not clear from the narrative if they are there when he is speaking, but he continues in verse 24, ”Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” I haven’t ever grown wheat, but growing things (or at least trying to) is something I have enjoyed since I was a child, and I have fond memories of working in our little garden plot with my mom. Gardening is an adventure that is full of life and death, of making decisions based on what might be best and hoping that it really is. I have always worked towards wasting as little as possible and making sure that I use or give away as much as I can. Over the years, I think I have gotten pretty good at managing that between eating, sharing, preserving, dehydrating and freezing, but the one crop that always catches me by surprise is the green beans. I LOVE fresh green beans, (and so does our dog, Hazel), but it seems like I NEVER get them all, and there are days I simply don’t have time to go pick, so inevitably, there are plenty that I miss or that I can’t get to before they get too big and tough. A couple of years ago, I decided to stop worrying about getting them all at the perfect time and just dry the ones that had gotten too big and use them for planting the next year. These beans are such a beautiful color and so smooth and perfect-looking, and yet, they’re not intended to be made into jewelry or hung on a wall, they’re meant to be buried, to be put in the dirt and be transformed, not to be seen again in their current form. And when we do that with a bean, we are rewarded with SO MANY more beans. BUT, if I hadn’t let some of them go, or if I picked them and tried to serve them to my family to eat (or try to eat…) I wouldn’t have anywhere near as many to plant the next year. Jesus is about to complete his human circle of life, and yet, he knows there’s more to it than the disciples can immediately see. I see this as a reminder that sometimes we have to let go of what we desire or hope for immediately in order to experience abundance in the future. And that sometimes, many times, we have no idea what the future holds, or what we risk in letting go of what we have in the right now for just the hope of something better. And even harder than that, we often don’t have the choice, we lose things we thought we’d always have and we have to let them go, knowing we may never understand why or for what purpose. Jesus knows firsthand that death and destruction cannot be avoided, it’s part of being a human, but he also knows that new life will come from it. He is preparing his followers to lose him, twice- in death and in his ascension, but with the promise of a new life with him. Jesus continues on, “'Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.” In imagining this scene, I really empathize with those around Jesus who aren’t getting any of this. One sentence after another that they/we could sit with for quite awhile and really consider, and now this one, and several others to follow. Why would they lose a life they love and keep forever a life they hate? They are trying to figure out what it means to serve and follow, and it must be overwhelming and confusing. In her commentary about this passage, Mary Hinkle Shore says Jesus is, “encouraging others to follow his lead in hating/rejecting this world’s definition of life as a small and isolated existence”. He knows they have left everything they know to follow him and all along, he’s flipping everything familiar upside down, trying to help them see that serving him and thus being honored by God is often very different than what the world would say is what they should be doing. Where do you feel this tension in your life? Where do you feel like the pull and priorities of the world are different from those we see and hear about from Jesus? - John made a point that this gospel is for ALL those who want to see Jesus. He tells the story of Jesus, as an eyewitness, in a way that gets right to the heart of Jesus’ ministry. At the conclusion of Jesus’ human life, in John 19:20 we read that the inscription on the cross was written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek- the only Gospel to point this out. Here, in John 12, we see that the conclusion of Jesus’ time here in a human body is perhaps ushered in by the appearance of an “outside” people. And near the end of today’s reading, in verse 32, we read, “'And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” The Jesus portrayed by John here doesn’t question God, he is troubled, but he is seeking God’s Glory. As humans, he and we are well-acquainted with loss, sickness, sadness and death. He’s looking ahead to the ways he will be lifted up- on the cross, from death and back to God completing the circle of his human life and hoping that with these events it will become clearer to those who seek him, what difference it makes. He emphasizes that this is happening for ALL people, not just those who have seen him up close, those who knew him then, or even those who know him right now. What does this mean for us? We are likely very familiar with and can easily access the whole story. And maybe sometimes, it’s easy to take it as a given and not really see what Jesus is showing us here. As we look to next week, Palm Sunday, the triumphal entry that quickly goes so far away from what everyone was expecting and hoping for, and into Holy Week, I wonder what it would mean for us to “see” Jesus. Are we looking for him with anticipation, do we really want to see him and believe him? Are we letting these events seep into our busy lives, and taking the time to seek him? Do we really want to hear what he has to say to us? How might Jesus lead us to serve him, to follow him in ways that help others to see him too? Amen Sources: The history and archeology of Bethsaida Kristen Sibold University of Northern Iowa Strong’s Concordance at Biblehub.com Working preacher commentary, Karoline Lewis Working Preacher Commentary, Mary Hinkle Shore |
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We believe God is calling us to cultivate a community of love, joy, hope, and healing. Jesus is our model for a life of faith, compassion, hospitality, and service. We strive to be affirming and accessible, welcoming and inclusive; we seek to promote reconciliation, exercise responsible stewardship, and embrace ancient traditions for modern lives.
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