The Life Laid Down

The Life Laid Down

I’m moved by the faith and determination of our Holy Trinity ancestors. Many people today have lost faith in the church as an institution. Churches are closing and many are on life support. Yet our forebears laid down their lives—gave their all—for the generations who would follow, including us.

The main point of First John is a line in today’s reading. “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” You may have all the goods the world offers, but God abides in those who lay down their lives for another, especially those in need. Especially those most vulnerable. Especially those marginalized.

What can you believe anymore?

What can you believe anymore?

What would Easter mean if it wasn’t just something you believe in your mind? It would be encountering God as mystery. It would be opening your hearts to something beyond yourselves. It would be letting the blossoming buds and flowers be your spiritual guides.

If you are bewildered by trying to make sense of these times and what is has to do with God. If you struggle with your faith and what you believe, there is a place for you here in this community. Together, we explore the questions of faith. We experience the resurrection through community, through acts of justice, through music and art and beauty.

Holy Disruption

Holy Disruption

What will it take to get our attention? What will it take to break through our cynicism, our apathy, our pride?

Lent is trying to do its work on us. We’re sailing through life. Attending to our agenda. Blocking out the news that troubles us. The violence on the South Side that seems unending. The lives lost in the wars in Ukraine and Gaza and the escalating humanitarian crisis. Turning away from the unhoused, the migrants, the refugees in our city, on our streets, in our neighborhood.

Lent in its starkness, simplicity, and deep honesty calls out: stop. Confess your sin. Review the Ten Commandments. You have not loved God with all your heart, soul and strength. You have not loved your neighbor as yourself. Lent disrupts our safe and tidy ways of thinking, the routines that become blinders.

What happened to you?

What happened to you?

In a large city like Chicago, we are always passing people. In lines. In queues. On sidewalks. In stores. On the bus. On the el. Even on the way to communion.

Much of the time there is not eye contact. To look deeply at someone may freak them out. Or be misinterpreted as flirtation. But don’ t you wonder sometimes what everyone is carrying in their hearts? What stories? What pain and suffering? What trauma their bodies may be holding?

What we do with our pain?

Mortality as Gift

Mortality as Gift

Perhaps that is why I and many others love this day. It is the most honest, the most human day in our liturgical year.  We are mortal. We are finite. We will die. And grief will hurt.

It is the price of love. It is the sting of being human. It is what makes life precious.

Most of the time we live in denial. Not today, we think to ourselves. We block out the truth of our mortality with gadgets. Or being busy. Or living as if there are endless tomorrows.

Halfway

Halfway

Yes, we are changed by the transforming love and power of God who meets us daily in the valley of our lives, not just the mountaintop experiences. Mountains are where we get our inspiration. Valleys are where we live and serve.

As we celebrate 150 years of ministry this year we take stock of what we’ve done and ask one another who we can be–in this community, in the neighborhoods of Lakeview and the South Loop, and wherever we live. We are transformed when we identify in ourselves, and for each how our passions, energy, and gifts are being called to meet the world’s needs. We are transformed when we challenge one another to use our gifts, money, and resources to heal a hurting world that is broken by poverty, racism, war.

After the Light Fades

After the Light Fades

Gentle rainfall at just the right moment, a pleasant or surprisingly deep conversation with a stranger, hearing or reading exactly the words you need to hear on a hard day, or simply a peaceful silence. These quiet, gentle reminders that Jesus is here walking with us can often mean just as much as any mountaintop moment could. 

Is there a cure-all?

Is there a cure-all?

Call them ailments, diseases, addictions. Hurts, grief, fears, worries. We all are carrying some kind of brokenness, it seems. That is what it means to be human. Whether by genetics. Or choice. Or chance. Whether chronic or lifelong. Or something that seems to come and go.

But what about the miraculous healings in the scriptures? Wouldn’t you like one from time to time? Our gospel says that Jesus cures people. Was this only for biblical times? Is there a difference between curing and healing? Wouldn’t you like a cure-all, a remedy to cure whatever your ailment?

The Fears and Joys of Liberation

The Fears and Joys of Liberation

Anna’s hope, the hope that permeates Black History, the hope we see in global calls for liberation - including that of Palestine - is not swayed by the knowledge that there will be hard things to face. We hear from the whole Gospel, from the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus that God’s work doesn’t stop at revealing what’s wrong. God’s work doesn’t stop at creating a new law. Simeon’s paraklésis, Simeon’s call for aid has been answered. God is here to do the work with us, to change our hearts, and to change our world. So let us do the work together with Joy.

WWJD

WWJD

In our world today we still hear scripture quoted to promote silence for the sake of peace and unity. We may even hear scripture quoted in direct support of genocide. If we fail to speak against this twisting of scripture, we become complicit yet again. Complicit in a new atrocity. 

As Christians when we ask, “What Would Jesus Do?” Let's not forget the image of Jesus we see in this scripture. A Jesus who addressed uncomfortable topics and difficult situations with confidence. A Jesus who called out injustice boldly, both inside and outside of the synagogue.

Little Epiphanies Everywhere

Little Epiphanies Everywhere

What made the perils of my adventure bearable was knowing that I was not alone. I was journeying alongside my family and friends, many of whom were also immigrants and people of color. We affirmed each other and stood together even when we were told that our experiences of racism in the US were not real. We named our experiences and found healing in community. I learned that journeying together is always better than journeying alone.

Hodie. Today.

Hodie. Today.

We were in Bethlehem about a month before the attacks of October 7. Tucked away in a large church, we joined other pilgrims in entering a small space in which it is believed to be the cave where Jesus was born. Kneeling and kissing or touching the birthplace. We went to other holy sites where Jesus was born, walked, lived, and died. On each site a church was built.

What moved me wasn’t necessarily that “Jesus was here” two thousand years ago. Rather, it was observing the present-day pilgrims that moved me. Many of them were with groups, often Roman Catholic or Orthodox, and at each site they celebrated a eucharist in a small chapel designated for this purpose.

O' Little Town of Bethlehem

O' Little Town of Bethlehem

O’ little town of Bethelem, how still we see thee lie above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by. Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the ever-lasting light, the hopes and fear of all the years are met in thee tonight.

 For many of us, this beloved carol has framed our image of Jesus' birth—a quiet, still night. The sky filled with holy darkness, but a beam of everlasting light shines a spotlight on the scene with Mary cradling Jesus at her breast and Joseph standing lovingly by her side. In the little town of Bethlehem, all hopes and fears come together and are met in the Christ Child.

Out of the blue

Out of the blue

The angel appeared out of the blue. And it changed everything. Natural disasters, violent attacks, accidents. Unplanned pregnancies or pregnancy complications. Resignations or terminations. Announcements of divorces or closings or moves. These can occur out of the blue.

Think of your life. What kinds of big changes came out of the blue for you? Something you could have never planned or expected? Something that changed everything?