 By Julie Carew, Lay Preacher
In our Gospel reading from this week, the time covered is the 8 days immediately following Jesus’s Resurrection, and a lot has happened, a lot of which we don’t know. We do know that Jesus has made several appearances in his resurrected body. And we know that at least some of the disciples are hiding out behind locked doors for fear of what will happen to them. The Gospels tell of the encounters people have with the resurrected Jesus. First, in John, we read about Mary. She had been present at the crucifixion, had observed the sabbath and at “first light” on the day after that- meaning that at the first opportunity she had she went to find him. She arrived and saw that something was not right; the stone closing Jesus’s tomb had been rolled away. When Jesus appeared to her, she didn’t recognize him until he called her by name. What a beautiful moment that must have been! I imagine her so focused on trying to figure out what is happening, clearly distraught, maybe with her head in her hands and then Jesus says her name and she truly feels and sees who is there with her. Let’s reflect on that for a moment. Have you ever heard Jesus call your name? Has Jesus ever spoken to you in a way that helped you to recognize him? Maybe it wasn’t in an audible voice, but have you ever felt like he was communicating with you in a way so specific to who you are and what you needed at that moment, that you couldn’t help but recognize him? Luke’s gospel tells us of the disciples on the road to Emmaus who walked together talking about all that had happened. Seeking Jesus too, in a different way; they were recounting the events, discussing it all, looking for answers. Jesus joined them, coming alongside them, walking and talking with them. But they didn’t recognize him. They finally see who is with them when he breaks bread with them. In doing something familiar with them, something they equate especially with him, they are able to identify him and also take in the things he said during their discussion along the road. Has anything like this ever happened to you? You’re going through a struggle, trying to make sense of things that seem senseless and the Spirit of God comes alongside you, maybe through a friend, or through something you read or learn, maybe just within your own pondering, opening your eyes to how God may be moving, may be working and pulling it all together. Maybe it’s identifying something that happens as something only God could have done, you recognize Jesus’s hands, Jesus’s character in something that happens and you are reminded that you haven’t been journeying alone. In a third encounter Jesus has, as we see in John 20, our Gospel reading for today, Jesus is seeking out his disciples who are hiding in fear. Jesus goes right to them, showing them his wounds, speaking truth to them directly, bringing them peace, explaining the next steps in their greater purpose and breathing into them new life and energy with which to take those steps. This account is especially powerful in times when we feel afraid and overwhelmed and not sure where to go next. Jesus doesn’t reprimand them for being afraid, he goes to them, meeting them as they are and gives them encouragement, purpose and power. At this point, Jesus has appeared to Mary, the disciples on the road to Emmaus and now to this group of disciples. In each case, there wasn’t an immediate recognition, it took something (different in each case) for them to recognize him. Mary saw who he was after he spoke her name. The disciples walking on the road recognized him after he broke bread with them. The disciples locked away from the outside recognized him when they saw his wounds. It seems like he really met each of them individually and made sure that they saw who he was in the way they needed to see. And now, starting in verse 26, here we are, a week out from the resurrection, and we don’t know much else about what has happened in that week in between. What have the disciples been up to? We know Jesus commissioned the disciples, what are they waiting for? Also, we don’t know why Thomas wasn’t there when Jesus came to the disciples, though we did learn of his interactions with them as they shared with him what happened. Have you ever been envious of someone else’s experience with God? Have you heard a story of someone’s incredible encounter with God and thought, if that had happened to me, surely I would have more faith or trust in God? I can think of several times in my life in which someone shared a story with me, the kind of story that gave me goosebumps, that illustrated God’s love and care for them in exactly the way they needed it. I think it’s pretty understandable in that moment to be thinking, I could really use some of that too! I’m sure you’ve heard Thomas called “Doubting Thomas”, but I don’t know if that’s really fair. Thomas was bold in stating exactly what he thought he needed to believe. In fact, in Eastern Christianity, Thomas’s doubt is not the focus, but this story is instead referred to as “the Believing of Thomas”. Early Church Father and Archbishop of Constantinople, Saint John Chrysostom is quoted as saying1, “Thomas, being once weaker in faith than the other apostles, toiled through the grace of God more bravely, more zealously and tirelessly than them all, so that he went preaching over nearly all the earth, not fearing to proclaim the Word of God...” So, when Jesus returns to the room where the disciples are hiding out, this time, Thomas is ready to see him. Jesus offers his wounds for Thomas to touch, offering him exactly what he said he needed, without questioning. We don’t hear that Thomas even touched the wounds but that he called out, identifying Jesus as “my Lord and my God”. When we look at this encounter, I wonder, where are we in our experience with Jesus? Have we seen and believed? Have we heard Jesus’ commission to share the truth and love with those around us? If not, how do we need to see Jesus? What do we need to trust that this story is true, that Jesus did return to set us free? Jesus says, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe”. When we step back a bit, it seems a little puzzling that Jesus makes this statement at this point. It could be seen as a reprimand, a “you can do better”, but I don’t think he is really speaking to any of those with him as all of those with him HAVE seen and are believing because of it. Jesus 1“Holy, Glorious Apostle Thomas” from The Orthodox Church in America is speaking directly to the believers who will come later, including us. Jesus is leaving space for the rest of us, acknowledging that these few have seen and known him directly, but many, many others will follow. John is good about telling us throughout the Gospel story why he is telling us what he’s telling us, and here he says, “ Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.” So, given these stories, these personal encounters and what we can learn from them, let’s take a few moments to reflect on a time during which we needed Jesus to show up for us in a personal way. Maybe it was at the beginning of your faith journey, and that’s part of what brought you to where you are now. Maybe it was in something that made your faith your own after being brought up in a faithful family. Maybe it was in making a big life decision in which you really needed some guidance. Maybe it was a surprise encounter in what otherwise seemed like an ordinary day in your life. When we can reflect on when Jesus showed up for each of us individually, we may be encouraged to ask him to do so again, or to do so for someone we love and care about who really needs to experience God’s presence right now. We’re one week out from Easter now, and I wonder, what felt real and present to you last week? Was it a time of wholehearted celebration for you? Was it a time of loneliness, not being with someone you would have liked to celebrate with? Was it a time of wondering what happens now? And where is it sitting with you now- does the celebration of Jesus’s Resurrection, of Jesus’s conquering of death, still feel real and present to you? What do you need from Jesus? And will you ask him for what you need? Do you need Jesus to meet you in your grief, in your doubt, in your distance? And are you looking for him? May we seek Jesus and recognize him when he shows up- whether it be in a quiet moment alone, through a friend, through a stranger, through seeking to learn more about him. May Jesus give us peace, God’s peace that passes all understanding, as we go forward after Easter, and may we be filled with God’s spirit, that she would guide us as we seek to share that peace into the world. Amen.  by lay preacher, Julie Carew
Open our eyes LORD, that we might see and know you. Amen. Most of us were given guidelines and rules from a very early age. Generally, parents adopt practices to help keep their children safe, to ensure they have what they need to thrive and grow, to give them structure and to guide them. These rules are determined largely by what those who are raising them see to be the most important. Parents are influenced by what they have experienced themselves, by what they have seen and experienced through others, by their worldview, their resources, by what they hope their children will have and what they hope they won’t have to deal with- by many, many factors. In my experience as a parent, oftentimes, rules make things easier. If a parent can establish a rule about something, and explain the reasoning and/or why it’s necessary, it (ideally) removes the need for questioning and debate- the parent observes what’s happening, sees the need for a guideline, does the initial thought-work, reaches a conclusion and expects that their children will follow said rule. Sounds simple, right? On paper, maybe, but real life is a whole different scenario. I mean, my kids should know that I am older and wiser and have their best interests at heart, so they will be in full agreement with what I have set in place for them at all times, right? Maybe they would if they were robots, but they’re not. They have feelings, they see things that maybe I don’t, they are aware of what they’re experiencing in their bodies and how a rule sits with them. If I am being the loving, sensitive, emotionally nurturing parent I hope that I am (at least for a few minutes on my best days), I’m looking to get to know my children, to hear directly from them how things feel in their bodies as they walk through this life and to guide them through in a way that will empower them to set guidelines and boundaries for themselves. I want them to know that I see them and hear them, and that I factor that into what I ask and expect of them. I also expect that they will respect when, even after discussion, I stick with my original assessment of the situation and hold to the boundary or rule I have put in place. I hope they will recognize that there are times when the trusted adults in their lives may set rules that don’t make sense to them, but they will know that we are thoughtfully considering it when we do and they will honor that. When we zoom out to the bigger picture of their life beyond living under our roof and to their own expanding circles of support and influence, I want them to treat themselves and those around them in this same way, to leave room for questions, to give space to feel deeply, and to be ok with not knowing all the answers to everything they come across. I want them to have learned from our relationship, our questions and conversations, and be well-equipped to make good decisions on their own or with those also involved. And I hope that if and when they get to a point in their lives in which they’re unsure of what to do next, they will know that they can come to me and I will help them with it, starting by listening to them. As a parent, when I become more focused on the rules than on the child, I miss out and so do they. When I shut them down before hearing what is happening inside of them, and helping them to work through that as needed, I miss the chance to gain some perspective and they feel unvalued. As challenging as it is, and was- when they were little, there were times I had to declare a “break on questions” so that I could have a few moments of quiet- I WANT children who ask questions. I want children who aren’t afraid to express when something doesn’t feel ok to them. Of course I want children who respect the leaders around them, who acknowledge that their elders have seen way more than they have, and give them the credit that is due, but I don’t want children who blindly obey, especially when it doesn’t feel right to them. I’m hoping that this approach will help them to see, know and feel how deeply they are loved, and that they generally will defer to what I have put in place for them, knowing that I have their best interest in mind. Now, I know this is different for an omniscient Creator who sees all and knows all- God is infinitely better equipped than I am- but the fact is, they give space for our humanness. God knows that we are not simple, God created us this way and knows that we’re going to have questions, we’re going to have feelings, we’re going to need to be able to experience things in order for the guidance to make sense, or for us to want it. So what’s happening here with the Pharisees vs the (now formerly) blind man? I know I’m often quick to judge the Pharisees, but if I’m honest, I understand their point of view and I know I’m guilty of it at times too. The Pharisees have learned and studied the rules, they have taken what is known about God, what has been recorded and passed down about God and they are trying to do what is right, to the letter of the law. Laws are necessary of course, the best ones are written to help us know right from wrong, to help protect us from poor decisions, but it’s very difficult to write a law, governing elements of everyday people’s everyday lives, that can apply in every situation. The Hebrew Bible has HUNDREDS of rules- related to diet, clothing, hygiene, farming, who is ok to talk to or make deals with, etc. These were given to different groups of people, many in very specific circumstances and we wouldn’t imagine that we’d be expected now to keep them all. These rules made sense in their context, and were important for people of those times to stick to. And yes, some of these rules are still helpful today. But as most parents will tell you, there are different rules for different circumstances, and rules need to adapt and change as children grow and as the world changes around them. God gifted humans with brains and reason and emotions, and when we use those things together, we are capable of figuring out what rules apply when, but we need to have space for consideration, for testing, for exploring and like a parent with a growing child, God gives us that. When asked by a Pharisee in Matthew 22, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” 37 Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’[c] 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’[d] 40 All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” So Jesus really gave us 2 overarching rules. And they apply to EVERYTHING. And what is the core of both of them? LOVE. Jesus knew what he was doing. He showed that LOVE overrules all the rules- LOVE for God, LOVE for neighbor, LOVE for self. And here, Jesus is demonstrating exactly that. The intention of the Sabbath is to bring our attention to God and that is precisely what Jesus is doing by giving sight to this blind man. Could he have done it without making this mud for him to rub on his eyes? Could he have done it without sending the man to go and wash the mud from his eyes? Of course he could have, but in doing this, he makes this healing so clearly an act of “work”, which is not allowed on the Sabbath, BUT this work reveals the power of God, the LOVE of God, the Redemption of God. Jesus makes it crystal clear that in following the rules like the Pharisees are here, without considering their intent or their context, we miss the point. We miss seeing God move, seeing God work, and allowing God to use us. Through Jesus’ work, the blind man regains his physical sight and he also sees so very clearly what the Pharisees cannot. He sees and calls out the foolishness of the Pharisee’s questions, he is able to distance himself from them, to look at them with a broader lens and reveal the truth. So, what can we take from this today? Jesus gives us such a beautiful illustration here of what he means with his great commandments. He reminds us that it’s not a matter of following a list of rules, or doing what has always been done, the way it’s always been done. It’s about taking the guidance we have, dwelling in relationship with God and centering ALL that we do in love. I have to admit, as a teacher and a parent, especially on a busy day with lots going on, I want ALL the rule followers on my team! Everything is so much easier when things just go the way I plan for them to go, without any “extra” energy expended to navigate on the fly. And also… I know I’d miss SO MUCH. I love those moments when I recognize and can appreciate a spark of creativity, a working of or around the system for the betterment of others. I love that I get to see my children and my students for the unique individuals that they are. And it is undoubtedly (most days!) worth the extra time, attention and energy. I believe too that God must delight in seeing their beloved children think outside the box, step out of the routine, connect with God through asking questions, look for God’s purpose and intent, and show love and compassion in ways that really change lives- their own and those of others. So, let us examine where we might be “just” going through the motions, doing what we’re “supposed” to do- and where that might be keeping us from connection with God and with each other. Let us be encouraged by Jesus’ example here to get creative, to really see God’s beloved around us, to get our hands dirty and engage in a way we might not normally make time or space for. And may that shift open our eyes to the love and care of God for all of us. Amen.  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.  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. |
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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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