 By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector
Ezekiel 37:1-14 | Psalm 130| Romans 8:6-11 | John 11:1-45 In today’s passage from Ezekiel, we witness the prophet have an incredible encounter with the living God; a vision that reminds us of God’s omnipotent presence.* Ezekiel writes, “The Lord’s power overcame me…” (37:1). When we are overcome - it is often with shock, or grief, or joy. Our senses become overwhelmed, making it difficult to act or think clearly. In those moments, all we can really do is be present to that singular moment. This is all the more true when it is God’s power that has overcome us. This week I spent some time reflecting when we as a faith community have experienced being overcome by the power of the living God in our time together. There are two instances that arose - and neither will be a surprise. The first experience was in the movement of our liturgy on the day former St. James and former St. Andrew’s became Saints James and Andrew. Each community began worship in their respective sanctuaries. The folks in Turners proceeded to gather particularly sacred and special items, climb into their cars and drive to Greenfield; parking at Federal Street School, where they made the rest of the journey on foot. Meanwhile folks in Greenfield processed out the front doors, gathering on the corner of Church and Federal Streets, singing hymns of praise and welcome as our siblings in Christ walked towards the church bearing their offerings. God’s all powerful and encompassing presence was in full force that day, overcoming two former bodies, as they married to become one new body of Christ. There is a photo that Jason took that day of the altar party processing into the church - with both banners side by side. There is something about that particular photo that for me best captures God’s capacity to overcome us. Particularly when reflecting on all the ways this body of Christ has sought to remain open to God’s presence and to serve as God's vessel, as Ezekiel does in this vision of the valley of dry bones. Next month we mark our 9th anniversary, and I trust the body of Christ at James and Andrew will seek and strive to be faithful servants of God’s vision of love for many years to come. The other instance that arose when reflecting on times we as a faith community have experienced being overcome by the power of the living God related to the pandemic - in different intervals. First - when we were forced to close our doors, but found ways of continuing to be the body of Christ scattered in our various homes. Then even more so when we were allowed to reopen our doors and gather - in person - as the body of Christ. Still further more when after many, many months of fasting from the Eucharist, we could finally break bread together as the body of Christ. The renewed meaning of the sacrament was an experience of being overcome by God’s omnipotent presence, and a glimpse into the vision of God’s dream. In Ezekiel’s encounter with God, he too was overcome. In his out of body experience within God’s Spirit - Ezekiel is shown a valley full of bones. Not just any bones - specifically, very dry bones (37:2). Which is in contrast with a human body alive and well, composed of well over 50% water. We see the stark difference between the lusciousness of life and the very dry bones of death. Bones that are so dry there is nothing remotely alive about them. They are beyond repair, seemingly beyond God, beyond saving. Except that is not the case. God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the bones: “...Dry bones, hear the Lord’s word! …I am about to put breath in you, and you will live again. I will put sinews on you, place flesh on you, and over you with skin. When I put breath in you, and you come to life, you will know that I am Lord” (37:4b-6). And so Ezekiel does as God asks. He does not second guess whether God is talking to him, or whether he has what it takes to do the job, or whether he’s worthy of God’s attention. In this moment - and maybe because it's a vision instead of our day to day lives which are ripe with self-doubt - Ezekiel understands he is being called by God to do something, and without reservation does as God asks. Suddenly there was a great quaking; and these very dry bones that once filled the valley came together. Then God tells Ezekiel to prophesy to the breath, this time saying, “The Lord God proclaims: Come from the four winds, breath! Breathe into these dead bodies and let them live!” (37:9b). Again Ezekiel does as God asks. Then the holy breath, the lifeforce of God, comes into these once dry bones. God then tells Ezekiel to prophesy to these revived people - people who had once lost hope and perished, “I will put my breath in you, and you will live” (37:14). God’s breath is all we truly need. Breathing God into ourselves, and breathing God out into the world. In this vision of the valley of the dry bones Ezekiel was overcome by the power of God. He accepts God’s invitation to serve as a vessel. In doing so, he breathes God in, and breathes God out. He does so with an apparent ease that can only come from the grace of the Spirit. His willingness to accept his call to a life of service, working in partnership and concert with God, transforms him into a vessel that brings God’s dream that much closer to fruition. All by breathing God in, and breathing God out. This is our call as followers of God in Christ. That we, like Ezekiel, might be overcome by God and accept a call to a life of partnership and service, seeking to help bring God’s dream into fruition. To do so, we must be at the ready, open handed, pliable and agile, nimble and adaptable. Readying ourselves at our best moments to become living breathing reminders that God is all powerful and ever present. As we walk our lives of faith - personally and in community - there will be times when God will ask us, like Ezekiel, “Can these bones live again?” (37:3) Sometimes our bones may be so very dry that our hope may seem lost. Yet we know that taking something as simple as an intentional breath invites the Spirit of the Living God to fall fresh on us. Breathing God in, breathing God out. All the while reviving us and our hope. This life of faith is a great privilege and is grounded in gratitude, where we are regularly overcome by all the blessings of this life. Breathing God in, breathing God out. Dedicating our lives to being a vessel of God’s grace and love. In both the big life changing ways, and more often, in mundane and ordinary ways. This week I was reflecting on all the mundane and ordinary ways those serving on our Vestry, Finance, and Property Committees act as vessels of God’s breath. These particular ministry teams are charged with responsibility, oversight, and stewardship of our facilities, finances, and resources. These committees are often bogged down by budgets, insurance claims, adopting and revising policies and procedures to enhance our effectiveness; all while addressing sinkholes, floods, flying roofs, crumbling ceilings, and long range care for our elderly buildings. Yet these ministry teams do this work not for the sake of preserving resources for our private gain or staying static or insular. They do this work so that we may be a vessel of God’s grace and abiding presence. The number of people that walk the labyrinth, or sit on our benches, or explore our sanctuary, or use our space for their events or businesses, or attend our community meal or outreach programs, or attend concerts - it’s near impossible to measure the impact. And believe me the Episocopal Church tries to do so with the Parochial Report. Yet these buildings, these spaces, our programs and ministry offerings - all strive to be the living, breathing embodiment of God’s breath. So that those who are overcome by the world, might for a moment, be overcome by God’s presence; so that those who wonder if these bones can live again may experience a moment of God’s breath to revive their hope. This body of Christ, our buildings, our ministries - we are an embodiment of God’s all powerful and ever constant presence, and it is our great privilege to serve God’s world in this way. In the coming years, God may call us to shift how we use various buildings or whether we keep them all - and all of that is in God’s hands. All we need to do today and tomorrow - is accept our call, like Ezekiel, to be a vessel of God’s grace. Breathing God in, breathing God out. Reminding one another that God is omnipotent and inescapably present. Reminding our neighbors that there is hope, and that these bones can live. As we prepare to head back into the world today, I wonder if we might do some reflecting this coming week, considering:
Let us pray: Loving God, we give you our humble thanks and praise for the ways you live, and move, and breathe in and through us. May we increasingly become vessels of your goodness, grace, and love; working in concert with you to be restorers of hope through Christ and the power of the Spirit. Amen. * Ezekiel 37:1-14
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 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 Steve Houghton, lay preacher
Lord we ask you to open our minds and open our hearts to recognize your message in what we hear and share. Amen Good Morning. Please be seated If you were raising children or if you were a child in the 1980’s you might remember a Jim Henson muppet television show called Fraggle Rock. I will confess that it was one of my favorite television shows and I could be found watching it in rapt attention even if the kids were not in the room. One of the characters of Fraggle Rock was Marjorie the Trash Heap. Marjorie was in fact a sentient trash heap who had great wisdom. Whenever the Fraggles found themselves in need of words of wisdom they headed off to Marjorie in spite of the danger from the Groggs who farmed the land where she was located. A trash heap with great wisdom. An interesting image to hold in mind. Not everything is as it might appear. So what the heck does Marjorie have to do with the woman at the well? One of the things I do when I am reading scripture and I reach a place where there is an important character without a name is to give the character a name to allow me to personalize the message God might be trying to send me. Sometimes there are several unnamed characters so naming them gives me an opportunity to better identify the actions and attributes of the people in the story. So I am going to name the woman at the well Marjorie. I hope you will understand why I chose that name by the time I finish. Bear with me. One other side track I’d like to take as I begin is to call your attention to astronomy. If you have done any star gazing you will know that when looking for the Pleiades, or Seven Sisters, or Subaru depending on how you recognize the star cluster, you can best see them with the naked eye by gazing to the side of the location of the cluster. When you do that the cluster becomes clear and the individual stars stand out. It’s a neat trick and one I have found helpful on many occasions for various reasons. Okay, back to a more obvious treatment of this morning’s gospel. We most often hear of Marjorie being disparaged as being a sex worker or at the very least a woman of loose morals. Five husbands and the current one is not her husband. Dr. Lucy Peppiat, theologian and pastor in England, has a different view of who Marjorie was. In Marjorie’s day, women could not get a divorce, only men could ask for and be granted a divorce. So it is not unreasonable to conclude that Marjorie could have originally been married first to a less than honorable man who decided that he could find better else where in town and divorced her. If this happened more than once the next man to marry Marjorie would likely be lower on the social ladder. By the time she was heading into her fourth and fifth marriage she would be pretty well marked as too old, barren or just not fit for marriage. Her sixth benefactor likely didn’t marry her but just took her on as a concubine with no rights and certainly no standing. That would certainly be consistent with Jesus’ assessment that she had been married five times and was now living with a man who was not her husband. Marjorie’s social standing was further marked by the fact that she was coming to the well at mid-day, the hottest part of the day, and a time when only she was likely to be at the well. At this time of day she would not have to endure the stares and comments of the other women of town who went out for water early, in the cool of the day. The half mile walk between the village and the well carrying a jug of water in the heat of the day was not a trek most people would undertake willingly. I think it is fair to say that Marjorie was toughened by the experiences of her life. Her early conversation with Jesus shows this. Marjorie sees Jesus at the well as she approaches but expects he will not bother with her because she is only a woman. Hoping he will just ignore her she reaches the well. “Give me a drink of water” Jesus seemingly orders. At his words and his accent, Marjorie recognizes he is not from the area and is a Jew. Now the chip on her shoulder grows a little larger and she responds “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” Pretty defiant for a woman who has no husband. Jesus then lets Marjorie know that if she knew who she was talking to he would give her living water. I am sure Marjorie looked around the well and seeing no other water source asks Jesus what the heck he is talking about since he has nothing to draw water with, the well is very deep and is he claiming to be greater than Jacob who discovered and passed down this well. Jesus replies that the water he has to offer will quench her thirst forever. I am sure that Marjorie made a cynical face and said in essence, well give me that water so I don’t have to come back here. See all this time Marjorie is looking at Jesus straight on and can’t see God’s light shining faintly from him. Jesus now goes on with his ability to see her past life. Marjorie is surprised but at that time, in that region, there were many who claimed to be prophets and would use tricks of pretending to know people’s past in order to secure credibility. She fires back a religious challenge that goes to the root of one of the sore spots between the Jewish tradition and the Samaritan tradition; that the Jewish tradition believes a person must worship at the temple in Jerusalem whereas the Samaritan tradition believes the place to worship is in Samaria. When Jesus responds with a foretelling of the role of the Messiah, Marjorie begins to look at him slightly to the side so that she begins to see God’s light shining from him. You see at this point she understands that not only is Jesus a Jew who would normally look down on her as a Samaritan but he understands that she is low in the eyes of even the Samaritans and still he is willing to engage with her on even footing. Now her wisdom begins to step forward and she asks if Jesus is in fact the Messiah to which he replies that he is. The disciples arrive back at this point and engage with Jesus but Marjorie drops her water jug and heads back to town where she describes her encounter with him. Now I think the text implies that folks gave credence to her report because of the prophecy of her life but I am not so sure. I think that the townsfolk see Marjorie, who normally will not engage with anyone, now is running through the town engaging with everyone to tell them her discovery. There has to be something to what she says to have caused such an incredible change in her. She has confidence and is engaging with people who could and in the past would criticize and demean her. They rush out to the well to see for themselves and invite Jesus to stay with them for awhile. You see it is not the prophecy that convinces folk but the change in Marjorie that brings them to believe that it is possible that the Messiah is waiting at Jacob’s well. I think it is the same with us. If we look dead on in our encounters with God, with Jesus, with faith, we can miss the light of God shining through the encounter. But if we trust and look a little to side that light might become visible to us. About seven years ago when we first started Emmaus Companions, Charlie and I made the acquaintance of black woman who was living quite literally in the streets of Greenfield. We became friends with Maria but at first she was reluctant to engage with us. Most people passed her by and muttered unkind comments in her direction. It was easy to see her as other being both a woman of color and usually dressed in clean but outlandish clothing. She also did not think very much of herself. When Charlie and I continued to greet her and engage with her she finally let down her guard and we became friends looking forward to each meeting. They were warm and caring encounters that said without words, you are important and I care about you. Maria was like Marjorie in that she had built up an armor to ward people off if they came too close in order to protect herself. When Charlie and I reached out to her no matter how little she thought of herself Maria could accept that she had value in the world. She let down that armor when we showed that we loved her. I suspect that Jesus gave Marjorie love in the same way as he was offering her eternal water. Quite amazing what changes we can effect when we care for others. I believe we have to use our sidelong vision when we encounter one another. We have to seek God’s light shining out of even the most prickly individuals we meet. Lent is a good time to practice this and get good at looking for God’s light everywhere and in everybody. You just don’t know when one of God’s messengers might cross your path and offer a chance to spread good news, hope and love to this crazy world. Amen  By The Rev. Dr. Molly Scherm
I love Nicodemus. If some of you found the gospel lesson we just heard utterly incomprehensible, don’t worry. Today’s gospel is a tough passage that is still the object of lively debate among scholars. I love Nicodemus not so much because of what we hear in the interaction with Jesus that we just heard, but because of the whole arc of his story in John’s gospel. But more about that later. So let’s start with a word, first, about John’s gospel. As you know, we have a three-year lectionary cycle of lessons assigned for us to use throughout the church year. The first year, which is what we’re following now, mostly traces Matthew’s account of Jesus’ story, and then we’ll move on to years mostly focused on Mark and Luke. Poor John doesn’t get his own year, so the arrangers of the lectionary insert passages from John into the other three years. This is one of those passages. And here’s what’s interesting: neither Matthew, Mark, or Luke ever mention Nicodemus, but he shows up three times in John’s gospel. What is it about Nicodemus that seemed important enough to John that he included him? What does John want us to learn from Nicodemus? One thing, and I suspect we can all identify with this, is that Jesus’ encounter with Nicodemus gives us a glimpse of an individual struggling with questions of faith and it invites us to explore what the idea of spiritual rebirth means. Nicodemus was an important person: he was quite a big cheese. As a Pharisee, he was part of the elite – better educated than most, a member of the Sanhedrin (or ruling council at the Jerusalem Temple), he was an insider and would have been accorded lots of respect and privilege. You’ve heard me say before that I think the Pharisees are given an unfairly bad rap in the gospels. Pharisees were the most progressive of the Jewish sects that existed in Jesus’ time. Despite their rigidity in relation to applying the Law of Moses - which led to their conflicts with Jesus over his sabbath practices, for example - they believed that interpretation of the Torah, of scripture, was a matter of ongoing process, ongoing revelation. They didn’t assume that they had all of the answers, but rather, were open to an evolving understanding of God’s intent for humankind, which may be what prompted Nicodemus to seek Jesus out to learn more about the new rabbi’s teachings. It would certainly have been unusual for a member of the religious establishment to seek out Jesus, and so it’s not surprising that he did so under cover of night. Nicodemus would not have wanted to advertise any association with this radical religious teacher about whom his community had such reservations. It seems that he couldn’t resist the impulse to learn more, however: he couldn’t dismiss his sense that “something is going on here….” We never actually find out, in John’s narrative, what Nicodemus wanted from Jesus, because immediately after his initial statement acknowledging Jesus as a “teacher who has come from God,” Jesus effectively takes over the conversation to launch into a line of instruction, with Nicodemus practically scrambling to keep up. Jesus’ instruction addresses what one needs in order to enter the kingdom of God. It includes a Greek term – anothen -that is difficult to translate, and that has caused consternation and controversy within Christian communities: Jesus tells Nicodemus EITHER: No one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above. OR No one can see the Kingdom of God without being born again. Nicodemus assumes the second meaning and takes it literally; he gets stuck on and bewildered by the notion of a person having to physically re-enter the womb and experience literal rebirth. Jesus, of course, is talking about something else, about spiritual rebirth, about making a fresh start. He tells Nicodemus that rebirth is not a matter of the physical self, but of the spiritual self, and that it is the work of the Spirit, leading one to new life. This verse has been understood by some Christian groups as a specific requirement. Some believe and preach the necessity of being “born again” in a particular kind of experience, that one must have in order to be “saved”. This isn’t the way we understand things in the Episcopal Church. But back to our gospel passage. After the exchange about rebirth, Jesus’ meeting with Nicodemus transitions into a sermon. I already mentioned the fact that John’s gospel differs from the Matthew, Mark and Luke. It was written anywhere from twenty to forty years after the other gospels and includes long passages of discourse – some of them very long – that are attributed to Jesus, and that represent what the young church had come to believe about the purpose of Jesus’ life. John’s community told stories that have Jesus explaining the meaning of his life and ministry. The brief sermon that we hear Jesus offering to Nicodemus is one of these. It includes what may be most quoted verse in the Bible, a verse that Marin Luther described as “whole gospel in a single verse”, John 3:15: For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. And the final verse of the text further reiterates and reinforces the theme of God’s expansive and inclusive love: Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. *** So what might Jesus’ words mean for us today? Is spiritual rebirth what we should be hoping for? Is it what the God who “so loved the world” wants for us? Is it something that takes place as an event that we should be seeking and working toward? Jesus tells Nicodemus that in order to see or enter the kingdom of God, a person must be born of the Spirit. Our ancestors in faith often assumed that in speaking of the kingdom of God, Jesus was speaking of a realm that exists outside of the world we live in, one that we can hope to enter after our physical life ends. Today we no longer understand God’s realm to be separate from our lives here and now. Today we understand Jesus to have been preaching about what former Presiding Bishop Michael Curry refers to as “God’s dream”, the community of love, justice, and peace that God intends for all of God’s creation. This reign of God is a time of living in right relationship with ourselves, with one another and with God; it is a reality we can build in the present, and it extends into the “eternal life” that Jesus speaks to Nicodemus about. To be “born of the Spirit”, I believe, simply means living a life that grows out of our relationship with God. I can best understand the idea of spiritual rebirth as being found in the gradual path of spiritual growth that we all work at over the course of our lifetimes. We work at spiritual growth through prayer and reflection, through study, through participation in worship, and through the experience of life in community, especially through our work together in service to others and to God’s world. Lent is the perfect time to focus on spiritual growth. I also know that we can also experience instances of dramatic change of our spiritual awareness, times when the circumstances or events of our lives produce in us real moments of transformation, of opening and expansion, of new self-knowledge and deepening in our relationship with God. Some of these times of change grow out of the joyful moments in life – I think of the birth of children and how profoundly that experience alters our view of what is important – but many times our spiritual development is painful, and grows out of times of loss and failure that bring us up short, requiring us to look at the truth of our lives in new ways. Jesus’ words to Nicodemus about spiritual rebirth suggest relationship and experience rather than doctrine and dogma. They describe a kind of spiritual growth that depends on courage and trust, but that leads to new possibilities of life marked by freedom, joy, peace, and love. And so, once again, I return to why I love Nicodemus. John’s gospel never tells us what impact the conversation with Jesus had on him, but the whole of John’s gospel provides quiet suggestions. Nicodemus appears two more times in John. As a member of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish court, John tells us that Nicodemus spoke up in defense of offering Jesus a fair trial, at the time of his arrest. And finally, Nicodemus is the one who brings myrrh and aloes, along with Joseph of Arimathea, to prepare Jesus’ body for burial after his crucifixion. Did Nicodemus turn toward rebirth, toward a life of faith in Jesus? It certainly seems to be John’s implication. Nicodemus’ story promises us that rebirth is possible, that change can happen. And if it can happen to Nicodemus, it can happen to us. May we, in this season of Lent, like Nicodemus, dare to bring our questions and our uncertainties forward before God. May we find in ourselves the will and the trust to invest in our own spiritual growth. In these violent and disturbing and frightening times, may we keep our eyes on Jesus. I came across a line that stayed with me, just yesterday. Quoted in the context of response to our nation’s attack on Iran, it also speaks to the work of investing in our own spiritual growth. It comes from Etty Hillesum, a Dutch Jewish writer who was deported to and executed at Auschwitz. She said: “Ultimately, we have just one moral duty: to reclaim large areas of peace in ourselves, more and more peace, and to reflect it towards others. And the more peace there is in us, the more peace there will also be in our troubled world.* May we, through God’s grace, travel toward new life in community with our siblings in faith and live into an openness of heart, so that we, too, may be reborn of the Spirit. Amen *Cited in “Those Who Make Peace”, The Cottage, Diana Butler Bass, Feb 28, 2026 |
Mission
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.
Office HoursTuesday 9:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m.
Thursday 9:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. Friday 9:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. Closed holidays Our gardens and grounds are open from dawn to dusk for the community to pray, rest, be. Please help us take care of this sacred space by following the outdoor ethic & principle of “leave no trace.” |
Contact Information
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Worship Times10 a.m. In-Person Worship & Livestreamed
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