Who's First? A Sermon for 12th Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 17

 

I've tried to vary the way I start my sermons in the hope that people will listen more and respond. Today, I told a story on myself which was the flattering tale of when I did something unusual in an effort to make things in elementary school gym class fairer. 

Texts: Jeremiah 2:4-13; Luke 14: 1, 7-14

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Do y’all remember in elementary school… in gym class… when the activity of the day was some game involving two teams? 

The first thing that would happen is two kids would get picked by the teacher to be the team captains.

Next… the captains would stand in front of their classmates to select their team members.

This was always awkward.

The games were competitive.

They required the players to have skills or some kind of hand-eye co-ordination.

Possibly jump or throw a ball far.  

There were always those kids in the class who were natural jocks.

And then there were the kids who were not.

Of course… the captains wanted to craft a team that could crush the competition.

So the jocks were always the first ones picked… and once they’d been claimed for one team or another… the captains would hem and haw over which of the remaining ones they’d settle to have on their team.

Those last-to-be picked kids were always the same ones… just like the first-to-be picked were always the same ones.

No matter what scheme a teacher might use… such as needing to alternate your picks based on gender or whatever… things always fell out the same way.

The jocks always knew they’d be the first to go. They were so used to the pecking order and it was really just a case of which of them would be picked first.

They’d puff themselves up… look all tough and strong… and high five each other as they sized up the athletes on the opposing team.

They didn’t even bother to look at the weaker ones. They knew they weren’t going to be a problem.

Well…one day… at my school… this script got flipped.

I was selected to be a team captain.

I was one of those athletic kids… and so I was one who never had to worry about when I was going to be picked.

I was a girl who could throw and catch and dribble a basketball… do all the things that made me the first girl selected in one of these scenarios.

I stood in front of my classmates.

I carefully eyed the group.

And I called out the name of one of the other capable players in the class.

My opposing captain selected a similar well-coordinated competitor.

I picked my next capable teammate.

The tension was rising.

Which jock would go next?

My opponent selected a regular ringer from the group.

I looked at the kids still in front of us. The remaining athletic ones struck unconscious poses of cockiness.

The ones who were the always last-to-go’s didn’t make eye contact.

Something came over me.

 I called out a name:

“Wendy!”

Her head jerked up.

The look of shock was like a deer caught in the headlights. There were audible gasps from my teammates.

I smiled at her and she smiled back in disbelief as she excitedly and confidently walked over to my side of the gym.

My opposing captain took advantage of this clear blunder on my part and picked another of the stronger kids.

My teammates were anxiously telling me who to pick next.

There were still a couple of good athletes in the group.

“Scotty”

….a kid in thick glasses who couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn door even if you stood him right there in front of it.

Just like Wendy… when Scotty heard me call his name… he had the biggest grin on his face as he strutted past the athletes still waiting to be picked.

For the first time in their gym class experience… these “last to go” classmates didn’t have to wait until the end to be picked.

They had received the honor normally reserved for the stronger, faster, more coordinated ones.

I don’t remember what the game was or even if my team won or lost.

What I do remember is that for at least one time in my life… I broke the unwritten proper social order of gym class… and followed my deeper sense of what kindness and justice look like. 

And it gave some other kids a chance to feel what it was like to get picked early in the process instead of at the end.

Now… I don’t tell this story to say “Oh, what a good person I am.”

But it does speak to the underpinnings I hear in our Gospel lesson this morning.

As the Rev. Dr. Emilie Townes notes, we shouldn’t look at this story of Jesus at a Sabbath dinner talking about where to sit and who a host should invite to the table as Jesus giving some sort of a Miss Manners lesson.

What Jesus is doing is highlighting the ways in which God establishes the social and spiritual order of things….unlike our own.

Who gets picked first…who gets honored…is out of our control and there’s nothing we can do to influence it.

Dr. Townes says our self-centered desires to presume what our place is in that pecking order “is unwise and perhaps unfaithful.”

In the Gospel… Jesus observes the way that guests at this Sabbath dinner had presumed to know which was their seat at the table.

He uses a parable of a wedding banquet because… in First Century Palestine…at such occasions… there was an established order to the seating.

The male guest of honor… usually a man of great personal wealth…got to recline on the comfortable couch in the middle… and others took their places in accordance to their social status.

But as we’ve seen repeatedly with Jesus… the material wealth of the world means nothing to him.

What matters more to Jesus… our God incarnate… is how people treat one another and how we live and move and have our being in our day-to-day interactions.

We know from our reading from Jeremiah that this self-interest and wanting to be first… or just a little further ahead of somebody else… will trip us up… and can lead us into a ditch of disaster.

Even centuries before Jesus… the people of God keep looking over the fence at the greener grass on the other side.

They wanted to have status… be important… get picked first. They saw what was around them…and wanted to be like someone else.

The prophets such as Jeremiah continuously cautioned against all of this.

“Be yourselves! Be the people of God you’re God what’s you to be!”

But the ego… that fragile little self… can’t stand to not be first… at the front and center of all things.

Our egos tend to pull us away from staying in relationship with God and each other.

I was really struck by the line in the Jeremiah reading, “a nation has changed its gods even though they are no gods.”

There’s such a pull in human nature to seek satisfaction in possessions and power.

The better car… a bigger house… a job promotion.

Sure, they bring us happiness… and give us all the good feels in the moment.

But it’s fleeting.

The car will always need a new muffler… or (worse) the alternator goes bad.

Turns out that house with more square footage…and a  nicer lot… has a leak in the plumbing… or a hole in the roof when a tree limb falls.

The new job comes with more demands… or a supervisor who undermines your efforts.

The bump in pay… sadly… didn’t come with the aspirin needed to endure the new headaches.

The material things are just that: things.

They are the things that don’t endure… which is counter to God’s continual promise to be with us through thick or thin whether we know it… or not.

The pursuit of gaining status… without remaining grounded in Love… thinking that our possessions or our importance is the “true religion” that will somehow earn us some special recognition in the eyes of God… is just foolishness.

Gaining wealth and status at the expense of other people and the planet is not the way of God’s love.

That’s what Jeremiah was railing about on God’s behalf to the people of Israel.

I think that’s what Jesus was getting at in our Gospel story.

I hear Jesus telling us that we shouldn’t worry about keeping up with the Jones’; we should be worried about whether the Jones’ are doing OK today.

This is why something as simple as our monthly collection of non-perishable foods has been such a blessing to watch flourish and grow.

The Rev. Becky Rowell over in Frederica likes to ask the question, “What’s breaking God’s heart in our area and what can we do about it?”

I see these offerings of canned goods… soon to be bundled with other items… as our visible answer to that question.

Again… this community exhibits generosity in a time when the need for that is so great.

This may seem small… but even a little kindness can have a huge impact on the life of another person.

May we never lose sight of that.

In the name of God… F/S/HS.

 

Being Seen: A Sermon for the 11th Sunday After Pentecost, Proper 16C

 

Homeless Jesus by Timothy Schmalz

What a week. Many conversations and messages that all seem to point back to the theme I was picking up from the readings: humans do matter and are important to God. And too many times, we don't acknowledge that truth to their faces. 

And in these political charged times, where we have Governors crusading against transgender people and attempting to limit access to books and instruction about the Holocaust and the ravages of the African slave trade... we need the church to step up to the plate and swing for the fences to let people know: God cares... even when your government doesn't. 

Texts: Jeremiah 1:4-10; Luke 13:10-17

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“Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born, I consecrated you.”

This is such a well-known line of Scripture.

I would imagine that for many of us… to hear God speak such a deep and personal connection to Jeremiah might also resonate with us.

Despite the many misgivings I’ve heard Christians express about the Old Testament, this passage from Jeremiah reveals a God who isn’t some distant, uncaring, mean deity.

The God in conversation with the prophet is engaged with humanity.  

This is a God who validates our self-worth…”the voice of the Lord came to me.”  

Me. Little ol’ me.

Little ol’ You.

Little ol’ Us.

I don’t know how much more personal you can get than that!

Being seen. Being noticed. Getting attention.

Even for those who really don’t like to be in the spotlight or have people fussing over them, to be seen for who we are is so important.

To be ignored or forgotten is far worse and much more hurtful and damaging.

Scientific studies have confirmed the importance of human touch and interaction especially with babies.

Researchers noted that babies can tell when you’re imitating them anywhere from several hours after birth to when they’re only a few weeks old. When a baby sees us smile back at them, or match their inquisitive look, it helps with their emotional and cognitive development.

Being known and seen in this way gives them such joy and comfort and assurance that it actually helps them to sleep better and form their personalities.

Noticing and seeing has a profound effect on adults, too.

I attended a presentation in Virginia with a woman who had once spent several years living on the streets and going in and out of the homeless shelters of Washington, DC.

Her name is Tokyo. She struggled with an addiction to crack… and when she came out she didn’t have the support of her family.

Tokyo spoke about what it was like to be sitting on the concrete step of a building and looking up at all the people going by. Rarely would anyone make eye contact with her. She said that was one of the toughest parts of living on the streets: no one saw her. Many made a conscious effort to ignore her.

Between that and her family turning away from her, Tokyo had that sinking feeling that her life didn’t matter.

That lack of self-worth is something she still struggles with today.

Sometimes… the noise of the world around us can overwhelm that voice of God whispering, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.”

So as we look at our Gospel lesson this morning… the one with the unnamed woman bent over and in pain for eighteen years… and I think we can give her a name.

For now… let’s call her “Tokyo.”

A person easily ignored and unknown… maybe collecting scraps of  discarded food.  Tokyo is drifting along through the Gospel. There’s a spirit of addiction… of being cast out… of being told “You’re stupid. You’re not worthy,” that’s kept her doubled over.

She is so broken and in so much pain that she can’t look up at the stars.

She’s so folded over herself that even her physical presence makes her into a small ball that others easily ignore.

They can’t see the hurt and pain in Tokyo’s eyes because she’s looking at the ground.

One day… by chance… she wanders into the house of worship.

Perhaps she was looking for shelter.

Maybe something told her that this was a safe place where she could just be… without anyone hassling her.

Tokyo is so used to being ignored that she might have been in her own world and not even aware of her surroundings.

It must have been a shock to her that the man who was leading the Torah study on this Sabbath day stepped down from the bema… and called her to come him.

Tokyo wasn’t looking for anything.

She hadn’t asked for anything.

She had no idea who this Rabbi was and why he’d suddenly taken notice of her.

But something in her told her to trust and move toward this man.

“Woman you are set free from your ailment.”

This Rabbi…Jesus… put his hands on Tokyo’s beaten down and beleaguered self… and offered that human touch that can be so transformative to a body in pain and suffering.

Jesus’ hands… Jesus’ ability to see her… to notice her… to validate her worth is so powerful that Tokyo can stand tall for the first time in eighteen years.

Eighteen.

In Hebrew… eighteen is formed by the letters that spell “Chai” or “Life.”

(Fans of old Broadway musicals might recognize that from “Fiddler on the Roof”: the celebratory wedding toast of “To life, To life, l’chaim”?)

Tokyo’s life had been in bondage.

Her doubled-over body raising up into a straight… tall… proud… and strong woman is the visual representation of what freedom looks like. What being yourself… your true self… looks like.

In Jewish tradition… the most central prayer of their faith… called “The Shema” mentions the Holy name… the name of God… eighteen times.

That prayer connects Jews deeply into their relationship with God.

So it’s no accident that Luke wants us to know that Tokyo’s life had been in shackles for eighteen years.

Now thanks to those healing hands of Jesus…she has reconnected to the God that has known her from the very beginning of time and will stay with her no matter what else comes her way.

She has been liberated… to go forth in peace to love and serve others.

By the way… this is true of the Tokyo from DC as well.

She found a reconnection with Jesus…in the form of friends who saw her… and told her “Go home.”

Get right.

Get clean.

She entered a treatment center where she experienced support, and friendship from many, including Episcopal priests.

She not only completed college but has received a master’s degree.

Today, Tokyo helps run a day center in Northwest DC out of the basement of a Presbyterian Church, which serves as safer space for people without housing.

This is her way of praising God… by giving back… by noticing and seeing those who are living the street life she used to know.

Like the woman in the Gospel… she has become tall and free.

Like the prophet Jeremiah… she is known… truly known to her core by a God who has called her to put her knowledge of street life to use for helping others.

We’re all known in this deep way by God…and invited to embrace the liberation offered through Jesus.

“Almighty God to you all hearts are open… all desires are known… and from you no secrets are hid.”

Our task going out from this place is to be like Tokyo.

Give thanks for this gift of being seen… being known… being truly and completely loved by a God who knows all of who we are… the good parts and the failings… and says without hesitation, “Yes, child, you ARE worthy.”

God’s love… communicated to us through songs, scriptures, prayers… and receiving Christ at this table… is the gift that empowers us to pass that love along to someone else.

Sometimes… it’s as simple as making eye contact and smiling. Or taking the time to listen to their story.

We have no idea how important that might be to someone else who’s living a life doubled-over in pain and shame in the belief that they don’t matter.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

 

Disruptive Jesus: A Sermon for the 10th Sunday After Pentecost

 

What a week in American history! 

I touched upon just some of the craziness that was hitting the fan in this sermon, which seemed only right given that the readings were all about the disruptive...even destructive... power of God. I reached out to one of my seminary friends and we both agreed: the readings were challenging. This is where I went with it.  

Text: Luke 12:49-56

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If you’ve ever owned a cat… you know how fickle they can be.

They’ll jump in your lap… looking at you with loving eyes. Maybe they’ll head butt your chin to get you to start petting them… scratching behind their ears… the scruff of their neck… perhaps that spot between their shoulders.

All is well.

All is purring and happiness.

And then—rrrrROW—they’re biting that hand that was petting them…slashing your flesh with their claws… jumping to the floor with their tail thrashing about and looking at you as if you’re the worst offender of their personal space ever!

I feel as if Jesus was a little bit like a cat in our Gospel reading this morning.

Most weeks… we hear and experience a man who wants us to love one another,

He demonstrates what love in action looks like.

He uses parables and stories to make a point about how to behave.

He heals people of their illnesses.

He comes alongside the person overwrought with worry.

I think it’s fair to say we all love the gentle… placid and purring… Jesus.

Now he’s talking of fiery baptism… bringing division to families… and calling out people as hypocrites for failing to interpret what’s happening right in front of their eyes.

This is demanding Jesus.

Just as cats are complicated creatures that we don’t always understand…Jesus will bite us if we get lulled into a place of complacency… and just doting on him.

Whenever Jesus enters the picture… any old set ways of doing things will get disturbed and disrupted.

That includes the familial structure of the ancient world.

The son… usually the eldest son… was expected to inherit the property of the father.

The daughter-in-law would be expected to move in with her husband’s family but often would remain more on the periphery of the family until she gave birth… and especially to the birth of a son.

Even though affectionate love could be present in these arrangements… they were still more duty-bound relationships formed by the culture of the time.

It’s such duty-bound rigidity… and unquestioned norms that Jesus predicts will crumble with his arrival.

The in-breaking of God incarnate turns everything upside down.

Or…from a Godly-perspective… it right-sizes things by placing God at the center and not self.

Given that Luke’s Gospel is written in a time of post-resurrection… we know that there was a lot of division that occurred in societal structures.

The original hearers of this would have been a people who had seen their temple… the center of their worship… destroyed by the Romans.

Once very solidly Jewish followers of Jesus are discovering that his message resonates with their Gentile Greek neighbors.

All of this poses tensions between the religious and ruling authorities… and intrareligious conflicts that would contribute to the development of Christianity as a separate sect.

Conflict… division… animosity within families and friend groups is nothing new. We see it on the macro level with war… and on the micro level with divorce.

It seems weirdly providential that we have this lesson about conflict after a week in which we have seen unprecedented things happening in the country.

A warrant to search a former president’s home… uncovering top secret documents…and now we  

have threats leveled at federal agents.

There was a video I saw posted online from a man who identifies himself as a pastor in Tifton, Georgia… encouraging those watching him to take up arms against the government and law enforcement.   

A man lost his life because he went to an F-B-I field office in Cincinnati and fired a nailed gun at people.

The author Salman Rushdie is in a Pennsylvania hospital fighting for his life having been stabbed in the neck and abdomen before a speaking engagement.

Rushdie has been living with a death threat hanging over his head for his 1988 book “The Satanic Verses.”

His speech was to praise the United States for being a safe haven for exiled writers.

The city of Charlottesville, Virginia, this weekend is marking the sobering moment five years ago when white nationalists marched and rallied in their otherwise-quiet college town.

A weekend that ended in a young woman getting killed by a man who ran her over with his car.

To our west… my colleagues from our diocesan Racial Justice and Healing Ministry are in Alabama this weekend to join with that diocese in remembering the death of Jonathan Myrick Daniels.

Daniels was an Episcopal seminarian from New Hampshire who had been arrested as he attempted to register blacks to vote in 1965.

Mysteriously… after almost a week in jail… the group arrested was released.

Daniels and a Roman Catholic priest…both of whom were white… accompanied a black teenager named Ruby Sales as they walked around the corner to a package store for a soda.

A man stepped out onto the porch of the store and aimed a rifle at young Ruby.

Daniels pushed her away… and took a bullet in the chest… killing him instantly.

That man was never convicted of the crime.

These events… these clashes which fuel anger and hatred… provoke the demons within us rather than the better angels of our nature.

They’re the eruptions coming from the disunity that’s been with us for a very long time.

It stems from that sin of “othering” which has its roots in the centering on the self.

And when we become self-centered and not God-centered… we see “others” as a potential threat or danger.

Self-centeredness has led to the “othering” of native people’s… Africans… Asians… Jews… Italians… Irish.

Throughout history… we’ve engaged in some practice of “othering” of people that has denied freedoms and limited their humanity.

It makes the words of the psalmist so poignant and true:

“Restore us, O Lord God of hosts, show the light of your countenance and we shall be saved.”

It’s this type of human-imposed hierarchy and stratifying of people that Jesus’ fire has come to destroy.  

No one person… no one group… is better than another.

No one gets to confer greater rights and privileges based upon race… or wealth… gender… or identity.

The mission and message of Jesus is one in which he is always endeavoring to lower mountains and lift up valleys… and to have everyone on an equal level.

There are no “others” in God’s society.

Jesus is about liberating us… and getting to see each other as beloved children of God.

And as he looked around that crowd listening to him in this Gospel lesson… he knew his words were falling on some deaf ears.

Some either couldn’t grasp his message or maybe didn’t want to hear it because it threatened that sense of self.  That need to “other” in order to feel important.

This is the tension that eventually would lead him to the cross.

And it’s really not that different than the tension before us in our own time.

There are forces that benefit in keeping us apart… fighting with one another… turning away from each other… and refusing to do the work we need to do to heal and mend the many breaches in our society.

These are the forces that perpetuate the violence which stems from that self-centered rather than God-centered approach to society.

Our challenge… as we look at the times we’re in… is the same one that has been with us forever:

Will we choose a path that leads to death or life?

Will we live into our Baptismal Covenant… resist evil… turn in a God-ward direction… and work for justice and peace and respecting the dignity of every human being?

Will we only pay attention to nice Jesus… or will we follow the disruptive one who laid down self for a greater good?

In the name of God… F/S/HS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Glimmers of Hope: A Sermon for Proper 14C 9th Sunday After Pentecost

 

A wonderful thing happened last month that I think got lost in the shuffle of all the other ‘things’ happening in our lives.

Amidst all the grim news of floods, fires, and politics… science gave us a reason to pause and reflect on the awesomeness of our world.

I’m talking about the marvelous images sent to back to us from the James Webb Space telescope.

The project was launched on Christmas Day of last year. The hope was to probe the universe for galaxies and planets that might have Earth-like atmospheres.

What was beamed back to us was nothing short of incredible.

Even more detailed that what we’d seen with images from the Hubble telescope… these photos took us deeper into space… beyond our own galaxy… and revealed the brilliance of what exists “out there.”

These snapshots have given us a glimpse of what might possibly be the first lights created 13 and a half billion years ago.

This is the closest look we’ve ever had of the beginning of time.

There were images of galaxies swirling and star beams dancing in the darkness.

There was so much joy with astrophysicists and NASA engineers giddy at these discoveries and bursting with excitement as they shared them with all of us.

What an awesome reveal…all these photos.

They are so mesmerizing.

The type of thing that one could just stare at and never feel tired.   

I’ve always been fascinated by the night sky.

I love looking at the moon and the stars.

I’ve often wondered… as I counted what few stars I could see with just my own two eyes…what else is out there?

Could Star Trek be right?

Are there other galaxies with other creatures wondering about what might be happening in that place called the Milky Way?

 The images from the Webb space telescope reawaken that interest in what might be.

Maybe there could be other life forms out there.

The more I browse and study these photos…the more I am reminded of this passage from Hebrews.

“By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was made from things that are not visible” (v.3)

Faith demands us to have hope in those things we cannot see… but will become clear in the unfolding of time.

I imagine when Abraham stepped out of his tent and saw so many stars… he might have doubted the promise that he would be the father of so many descendants.

 “As many as the stars of heaven and as the innumerable grains of sand by the sea.” (v.12c)

Logic would have said that such a promise was absurd.

And then Sarah and Abraham became pregnant with Isaac.

The NASA scientists said they weren’t so sure their Webb space telescope would be successful.

But because of their willingness to trust and hope for success… we now have been given the gift of seeing another layer of the creation in all its splendor.

And I can imagine God delighting in our discovery… and calling out to us to keep searching because there’s so much more to find.

To have “faith…in the things hoped for, the convictions in the things not seen” (v.1) begins with a willingness to go seeking. 

Not with our eyes. But with our heart.   

It requires letting go of the “known” and being willing to venture into the unknown.

When we open ourselves to the experience of moving out beyond our preconceived ideas… and our old set ways of doing things, our heart expands.

We can look at things in new ways and even understand the experience of another person.

It seems quite appropriate that we have this reading from Hebrews as many of our children are starting back to school in the city and county and Valdosta State will be gearing up for another semester.

Schools serve as that opportunity for students, teachers, and professors to step out into something of a wilderness of learning on a journey toward discovering new information with each other.

To learn anything… both parties must have enough faith and trust in each other to begin.

This is true of all new relationships… be it a job or even a romance.

Our faith comes from trusting and having gratitude for God’s unconditional love of us that he would have given Jesus to us to set the standard of what it means to walk and live in love for one another.

Through this loving relationship… God empowers us to bring about a world that puts love of God and each other as the center of our being.

This faith is the bedrock which allows us to build relationships… allowing us to even work across our differences.

We might even discover the image of God in people who we at first didn’t like or trust.

Perhaps we might start tackling problems that we’ve been ignoring because we didn’t have enough faith that we could work with each other.

I have seen what I believe to be the seeds of such faith emerging from our Lambeth Conference.

You’ve heard me mention this meeting of the bishops before.

It’s not a legislative body or any kind of governing structure. What the Lambeth Conference represents is an opportunity for the bishops of the Anglican Communion—all the churches that trace their history back to the Church of England—to come together every ten years or so to study and talk with one another about the issues they’re encountering in their parts of the world.

These discussions help fuel ideas that the bishops can carry back to their respective dioceses and provinces.

The past two conferences were fraught with tension.

Some churches…including The Episcopal Church representing the United States as well as churches in Europe and the Caribbean… have made steps to include the LGBTQ+ community into the full life of the church.

Bishops… mostly from Africa and Asia… have objected to this, and especially to our church’s position on marriage equality. And since 1998… there have been numerous attempts to take the Lambeth Conference in a direction of punishing The Episcopal Church for accepting LGBTQ+ Christians.

There was another such attempt to do this at this latest conference.

But unlike the times before… there were gay and lesbian Episcopal bishops present.

There were those bishops who’ve come to see, know, and experience lesbian and gay Christians.

And there was the understanding that our Church could bring to the Conference to demonstrate how to live in love with one another recognizing the diversity of human sexuality.

We… and some of the other provinces… could bear witness to the reality that faith is a journey without a need for a set arrival date at the destination, but a willingness to trust in the Holy Spirit who will not leave us comfortless.

In turn… bishops from Africa and Asia shared their truth. 

They spoke of the threats they’ve faced from hostile governments who consider these bishops part of some larger Western conspiracy to undermine the laws of their countries.

Everyone listened.

Relationships formed.

And more than 600 bishops from 165 countries agreed to trust God and each other to lay this issue down and stop demanding to have winners and losers in this struggle.

That is an act of faith.

Where we go from here is a great unknown.

But what seems clear is that there is a willingness on the part of all sides to stay on the journey with each other.

No more threats to walk out.

No more calls for sanctions.

Look to the one who gave himself in love on the cross and remember that he died and rose again so that we could all have life and be a beloved community… and children of God.

This is gift of faith surrounds all of us… reminding us of who we are and whose we are.

God invites us and even beckons us to move out of our comfort zones of certitude…and our human need for right and wrong… open the eyes of our heart and step onto the path of faith.

We may pass through a fog of doubt and uncertainty…and we may not readily see what’s ahead.

But even as we venture out… beyond our own personal universes… we are never…never alone.

In the name of God… F/S/HS.