The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman's homily from July 2, 2023

God’s Hospitality

Christ Episcopal Church, St. Joseph, Year A, Pentecost V, Matthew 10:40-42

Jesus says, Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me.

Such a short, seemingly simple statement. Welcoming others is a good thing, it tells us. And we pride ourselves on our hospitality, right? Down here in the south, we call it “southern hospitality,” and that is a thing.

But I’ve never gone anywhere that didn’t claim to be hospitable. Well, possible exception: New York City!

Most every town, village, city across the country posts signs on its outskirts saying “welcome.” If you arrive by plane, the flight attendants will inevitably say “welcome to… (fill in the blank)” the moment you land. You walk into the airport and head to baggage claim and there’s a huge sign over the escalator: “Welcome to… (fill in the blank).”

I just got back from a trip to Jamestown, NY. It involved three flights, the last one being a small, single-engine turboprop that seated 11 passengers and two pilots. When we landed, the captain leaned around the back of his seat and said, “Welcome to Bradford, PA.”

We have an entire industry—global—called “the hospitality industry.” It’s all about welcoming people. So when Jesus tells us welcoming is a good thing, we might well be tempted to say, “Hey, yes, Jesus, we got this! We know what you’re talking about and we’re doing it.”

But, of course, all these human endeavors—from “southern hospitality” to flight attendants saying welcome in the name of a city they don’t even live in—are not really about the kind of welcoming Jesus is talking about here. All these human endeavors are better thought of as ways of being polite while NOT welcoming people in the way Jesus is talking about.

So… how can we talk about the deeper, more profound way of welcoming that Jesus is actually talking about? That’s the challenge. And it’s a challenge because most of us have not had the kind of human experience that might teach us about that kind of welcome.

Here’s the difference: Acting in the name of, for example, southern hospitality, we can meet and greet and perhaps share food and drink with strangers, visitors to our community, whomever, maybe even provide a bed for the night, do all those polite things we do—and walk away from the interaction with our lives unchanged, or relatively unchanged. We might have lovely memories of our time spent with folks we might never see again, but… our lives remain fundamentally unchanged.

That’s NOT what Jesus is talking about! That’s nice, polite, a good thing to do.., but not what Jesus is talking about.

Jesus is talking about the kind of welcoming that changes lives. Jesus is talking about God’s hospitality, and God’s hospitality is total. It’s an “all in” kind of hospitality. It’s an “abide with me and I with you” kind of hospitality.

I love that word “abide.” It conveys so much more than “visit” or even “live with.” It implies “hang in with you no matter what.”

God’s hospitality literally saves lives, both the life of the welcomer and the life of the one being welcomed. If you’ve ever had to flee from war or violence or starvation to another country seeking refuge, or if you have been the one to extend hospitality to such a person, you understand this kind of welcome.

But God’s hospitality also takes risks. You never know exactly whom you might be welcoming. Remember Hebrews 13:2: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.” So.., the ones you welcome might be angels. But they also might be jerks. The might accept your hospitality and not be grateful, might even resent it.

Author Margaret Guenther, At Home in the World: A Rule of Life for the Rest of Us tells about riding NY subway and wondering about fellow passengers, “who are the angels?” Surely there are some in this motley crew. Recalling Jacob sleeping in wilderness, she would look up the grimy, smelly, urine-stained stairs to the street and wonder, which of these people ascending and descending are the angels?

We always have the option of shaking the dust off our shoes, but not the option of not offering hospitality. Not those of us who claim to follow Jesus.

God did not give us the power to discern the worthiness of whom we welcome. That’s God’s job. Because if we could, we would offer hospitality according to our own biases and prejudices. And that’s not God’s hospitality.

God’s hospitality is open. It takes risks. Again and again.

Jesus says when we welcome another we are welcoming him. If we take him at his word, how can that NOT transform our relationships with others?

Maybe if a do a better job of channeling God’s hospitality in the world and remembering that I am encountering Jesus in every other person, then perhaps rather than curse and fling the finger at the guy or gal who cuts me off in traffic, I will just make space for him or her.

“Making space” is another way of thinking about God’s hospitality. Making space for others, in all their strangeness and knobbiness, all their unacceptable beliefs and opinions, their orneryness and unlovableness.

As agents of God’s hospitality, we offer hospitality and what others do with it is, as my mother would say, none of our beeswax. As followers of Jesus, we offer a cup of cold water. To everyone. What they do with it is between them and God.

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN.

The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman's homily from May 28, 2023

  “Extravagant, Furious Love”

Christ Episcopal Church, St. Joseph

Year A, Pentecost

Acts 2:1-21; 1 Corinthians 12:3b-13; John 20:12-23

I have wracked my brain for the past two days trying to come up with an experience or story to begin this sermon with that would enable you—and me; all of us—to connect with and experience fully the drama.. and the trauma.. of the first Pentecost—the coming of the Holy Spirit.

And I have come up empty handed. I have not thought of a single thing that would do that trick any better than the words St. Luke came up with to describe those events of the first Pentecost.

But simply rereading those words doesn’t make for much of a sermon, right? So I did what any other self-respecting academic would do. I looked up what some other people said about it!

And I found some gems. Here’s one:

Pentecost reminds us that Christ's spirit is not mild or temperate but a disrupting force, a caring love that disconcerts and unsettles the systems of this world, redefining power from the inside out and from the bottom up.

That was said in a sermon by Ivan Nicoletto, a Benedictine monk.

Remember that I referred to the drama and the trauma of Pentecost in my opening sentence. Did you ever think of Pentecost as a traumatic event? But it was and that is what Brother Nicoletto is talking about.

See, to the extent that the Holy Spirit is “mild and temperate,” WE have made it that way. And not just us; most of Christendom has conspired in making Christianity safely and solidly middle class, confirming of the status quo, all about pretty buildings and stained glass and candles.

And, boy, we Episcopalians are really good at “mild and temperate”! We like our religion calm, orderly, even a little boring. Certainly better boring than on fire with the Holy Spirit!

But as Brother Nicoletto says, the Spirit of God is a disrupting force, a love that disconcerts and unsettles and redefines the systems and the forces at work in the world.

Look what it did to those first recipients—the disciples of Jesus—and by “disciples” I do not mean merely the 12 Apostles but ALL of the many followers of Jesus. Remember the stories we have been reading since Easter.

The disciples were in disarray. Some headed back home, like the ones on the road to Emmaus. The fishermen went back to fishing. Jesus had to go cook breakfast for them on the beach to get their attention again. They huddled fearfully in upper rooms with the doors locked. Jesus had to appear to them over and over to keep them from fading into the woodwork.

Finally comes the ascension, and they stand their gazing up into heaven as Jesus disappears. An angel has to come jar them out of their stupor and tell them to go on into town and get ready for the next big thing. 

Then comes the Spirit and builds a fire under them. Artists always depict the coming of the Spirit as dainty little flames dancing over their heads, and that’s kind of what Luke says, but… I’ve always thought building a fire under them a better description of what happened! There they were: Propelled onto the streets to preach and carry on so wildly that people thought they were drunk at 9:00 in the morning.

The Holy Spirit of God is a disrupting force. It changes things—all things. It transforms lives.

What was the miracle of Pentecost anyway? We tend to think it had to do only with language. We read this story every year and marvel that this bunch of English speakers—I mean, they must be English speakers because there it is in the Bible in plain English, right?

So we think the miracle is that this bunch of English speakers suddenly could speak a bunch of different languages! No, no. The miracle is that this bunch of people who had been moping around for weeks thinking and acting like the story was over..,, that the story had died with their friend…, suddenly these people are on fire for sharing the good news of the living God., the God who is up to something new under the sun, the God who snatches victory from the jaws of death and builds a fire under ordinary people such that they go out and change the world.

Hear that again. A bunch of ordinary people are lit on fire by the power of the Holy Spirit and they go out and change the world. That is the miracle of Pentecost.

Today, we wear our red and say “happy birthday” to the church.

Oh, my. We are sooo boring. Nobody will ever accuse US of being drunk at 10:00 on a Sunday morning, right?

Another of the gems I found in my search for words to convey the meaning of Pentecost is a guy by the name of Brennan Manning. I’m paraphrasing here in order to pull out a couple of phrases that strike true to me today.

Manning says that the whole story of the New Testament, the very life of Jesus, is absurd and meaningless, unless we get that God’s purpose was and is to make something new in the world—a new creation.

And that new creation, he says, is not just people with better morals. We get so tied up in morality, don’t we? And in evaluating people and judging whether they are sufficiently moral—according to our standards—and with trying to get others to live by our moral code. But that was not and is not God’s purpose.

Rather, God’s purpose, says Manning, is to “create a community of prophets and professional lovers.” Think about that. That’s what God wants us to be, a community of prophets and professional lovers who speak the truth of God’s love in a hurting world.

Manning goes on to describe that community as ‘men and women who surrender to the fire of the Spirit, who enter into the very heart of Christ, which is a flame that consumes, purifies, and sets everything aglow with peace, joy, boldness and extravagant, furious love.’

Imagine that! “Extravagant, furious love” afoot in the world. That’s the miracle of Pentecost. And that, brothers and sisters, is our call today. What a different world we will create, with God’s help and extravagant, furious love!

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN.

Services at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph

 

The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman will lead us in Morning Prayer with communion, Sunday, May 28th at 10am in observation of Pentecost.  Our tradition is to wear red on Pentecost Sunday.

Other Sunday services will be Morning Prayer also at 10am as usual.

Pentecost, also called Whitsunday, (Pentecost from Greek pentecostē, “50th day”), major festival in the Christian church, celebrated on the Sunday that falls on the 50th day of Easter. It commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit on the Apostles and other disciples following the Crucifixion, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus Christ (Acts of the Apostles, chapter 2), and it marks the beginning of the Christian church’s mission to the world.

(from www.britannica.com)

Information regarding Mr. Lutken's book regarding WWII Burma Warfare

 

Ms. Emily Lutken sent a note to say her father's book: "A Thousand Places Left Behind: One Soldier's Account of Jungle Warfare in WWII Burma" is now available:

A Thousand Places Left Behind | University Press of Mississippi (state.ms.us)

The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman's homily, May 7, 2023

 

God With Us

Christ Episcopal Church, St. Joseph

Year A, 5 Easter

Acts 7:55-60; 1 Peter 2:2-10; John 14:1-14

During Easter season, our first lesson every Sunday comes not from the Old Testament, but from Acts of the Apostles—the New Testament book that tells the story of the founding of Christianity.

It’s worth pointing out—because so many people seem to miss this—that Jesus did not found Christianity. The Apostles did. Acts 1 tells the story of Jesus’ ascension into heaven, and then proceeds to tell the story of the founding of Christianity by the Apostles.

As a teacher of religion, I have been asked the question in a most incredulous tone of voice, “You mean Jesus was not a Christian?” The correct answer is, “No, he was not. He was born, lived and died a Jew!” In some quarters, that is almost enough to get one stoned to death!

From my perspective, the story we read this morning of the stoning of Stephen in Acts Chapter 7 does not get enough attention in the church today. We read it just once every three years—on the 5^th Sunday of Easter, Year A. That’s it.

Stephen might get mentions at other times, for example, on his feast day. But that’s Dec. 26, the day after Christmas, a “low church day” if ever there was one! And when he does get mentioned, it is typically focused on the fact that he was the very first martyr.

Another thing that will often get mentioned is that bit about people laying their coats at the feet of Saul. And we all know the next chapter of that story. Saul encounters the risen Christ on the road to Damascus, is struck down, blinded and converted into a believer and Apostle, and, indeed, pretty much the author of the New Testament. So that’s important, for sure.

But… what about Stephen? Who was he? Why was he stoned to death? What was his death-deserving sin? And who, in fact, stoned him to death?

Don’t feel bad if you haven’t a clue about any of that. It really doesn’t get talked about much. So… guess what?

The first thing to know about Stephen, which will give you a bit of insight into why I think he is important, is that he was not an Apostle and he was not a priest. He was a deacon.

The second thing to know is that he was not stoned for feeding the poor, which was his ministry, nor for being a activist on behalf of the poor, as so many deacons are. Rather, he was stoned for preaching.

Hmmm. Does that make you wonder a bit about his sermon? What in heaven’s name did he say?

Well, it’s all there in Acts Chapter 7! You might want to go home and read the whole thing because I’m not going to read it to you. I am going to tell you a bit about it, but first….

To whom was he preaching? That’s an important question because it was precisely the people to whom he was preaching who rose up, dragged him out of the city and stoned him to death.

So who do you think? A bunch of pagans who didn’t want to hear about a bigger, better god than the ones they worshiped? Nope. A bunch of Romans who didn’t want to hear about a god greater than Caesar? Or perhaps didn’t want to hear that they had executed an innocent man? No, and no.

Here’s a quickie version of the back story: In Acts 6, Stephen and six others are chosen and ordained as the first deacons, their job being to correct bias that had developed in the daily distribution of food, such that poorer and less powerful people were getting less than their fair share. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

Acts 6 goes on to tell us that Stephen stood out from the beginning, that he was full of grace and did many “wonders and signs among the people.” The powers-that-be who ran the synagogue became more and more worried. They tried to argue with Stephen to no avail because Stephen spoke with wisdom and the power of the Spirit. Quite literally, Stephen became a threat to their power and control over the spiritual lives of the people.

What did they do? They pressured some men to lie that Stephen had blasphemed against Moses and God. Stephen is arrested and hauled before the Council—that is, the priests and elders who ran the synagogue, and thereby control the people because the synagogue was the people’s access to God.

So that’s the context in which Chapter 7 begins with the high priest asking Stephen, “Are these things so?” Did you, in fact, blaspheme against Moses and God? Stephen’s sermon is his answer. In sum, Stephen is preaching to the high priest himself and the group that runs the synagogue—the good church people of the day—and he is defending himself against lies told about him.

So, what does he say? Well, most of it sounds pretty non-controversial. Verse 2 through verse 47, over a thousand words, is the history if the Israelites. Stephen begins with Abraham and God’s covenant with him. He tells the story of Joseph sold into slavery by his jealous brothers, becoming ruler there and bringing the Israelites to Egypt, who in turn became slaves there. He tells of Moses and the burning bush and leading the people out of Egypt, and, of course, he tells of their wandering in the wilderness for 40 years because they didn’t trust God, begged to be taken back to Egypt and made themselves a golden calf to worship.

Then comes the punch line. Stephen tells these powerful religious men that they are wrong about God. God, he says, does not live in houses made by human hands. God is everywhere; the creation that God made is God’s house.

This is a direct affront to their power. If people come to believe that God is everywhere and that they can worship God—in spirit and in truth, just as Jesus had taught—then those who rule via the synagogue are little more than custodians of a building.

Finally, Stephen drives his point home by explicitly connecting their dishonest power—power based on keeping God in a box of their own construction—and their rejection of Jesus. He says,

You stiff-necked people… you are forever opposing the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors used to do. Which of the prophets did your ancestors not persecute? They killed those who foretold the coming of the Righteous One, and now you have become his betrayers and murderers.

And that drove them right over the edge. Enraged, they drag Stephen out of the city and stone him to death.

So… what is the lesson in all of that for us today? I think of two things, and they are related. First, don’t try to keep God in a box. Humans of all races and nations have a strong tendency to believe that their “God box” is the best, even the only “right” one. We really want to think that we have God figured out and that if everyone else just thought the way we did, the world would be a hunk-dory place.

Second, don’t get between God and people. Don’t try to build earthly power by inserting earthly institutions and constructs between God and people. “The church” is not God. “Christianity” is not God and most assuredly is not the only way to God. Those are our God boxes, and they can easily become idolatries. God will find a way around or through every barrier we seek to put between people and God.

The high priest and the Council perhaps appeared to have prevailed by killing Stephen, but at best they had won a small skirmish. Saul went from guarding the coats of the killers to encountering the risen Christ on the road and to becoming the chief herald and preacher of the liberating news of God with us, everywhere, at all times.

 

  In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN.

 

Easter 2023 services at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph and Presiding Bishop Curry's Easter Message

 Reminders:

Good Friday service with Deacon Bette at 5pm today (April7)

Easter service with Rev. Ed Lovelady at 10am Easter Sunday. Please bring fresh cut flowers for 'flowering of the cross'.

Here is a link to Presiding Bishop Curry's Easter Message:

Presiding Bishop Michael Curry: Easter 2023 Message – The Episcopal Church

Here is the text from Bishop Curry's message from EpiscopalChurch.org:

“We are here in a world struggling to find its soul, but the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not, cannot, and will not overcome it,” Episcopal Church Presiding Bishop and Primate Michael B. Curry said in his Easter 2023 message. “Jesus lives. He has been raised from the dead. That is the message of Easter, and that is the good news of great tidings.”

The festive day of Easter is Sunday, April 9.

The following is the full text of the presiding bishop’s Easter 2023 message, lightly edited for clarity:

This is a different Easter message. I’ve shared Easter messages from Jerusalem some years ago, and I have shared Easter and Christmas messages from a variety of locations. Last year for Christmas, we were in San Diego. Today I’m in Paris, part of the Convocation of Episcopal Churches in Europe. We just finished a revival—over 50 young people and some 300-400 people from all over Europe who came for this revival service. It was a remarkable thing to behold and be part of.

The Convocation here in Europe is engaged in incredible ministries, with some joining together with Episcopal Relief & Development to make it possible for resettlement of those who are refugees from war and famine, particularly those who are refugees from Ukraine.

Thinking about it—I realize not only with this view—but with the reality of Easter looming on our horizon, John’s Gospel opens: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Then there is a point in which it says, of Christ coming into the world, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.”

On that early Easter morning, John says in his 20th chapter, that early in the morning while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene and some of the other women went to the tomb. They went to the tomb after the crucifixion and burial of Jesus. They went to the tomb of their world having fallen apart. They went to the tomb of all their hopes and dreams having collapsed.

But they got up and they went anyway. They went to perform the rites of burial, to do for a loved one what you would want to do for them. They went, following the liturgies of their religion and their tradition, and, lo and behold, when they went, they discovered that, even in the darkness, the light of God’s love, the light of Jesus Christ—the light of Christ, as we say in the Great Vigil—in fact, was shining in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

Jesus had been raised from the dead. He was alive, and darkness and evil and selfishness could not stop him. Love—as the old song says—love lifted him up.

We are here in Paris, this wonderful city. While there are protests going on in the city—garbage has not been collected, and it’s all over the city—we are here in Paris, in Europe, with refugees streaming into this continent from all over the world, impacted by changes in weather pattern, impacted by war and famine. We are here in a world struggling to find its soul, but the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not, cannot, and will not overcome it. Jesus lives. He has been raised from the dead. That is the message of Easter, and that is the good news of great tidings. From Paris, I’m Michael Curry. God love you. God bless you, and the light shines in the darkness, wherever there is darkness. This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. Amen.

The Rev. Deacon Bette Kauffman's homily from Palm Sunday 2023 and info

Each Sunday we pray for our church, the Shepherd Center and Saint Augustine's Episcopal Church in Homer, Alaska.  Many of us know the connection between Christ Episcopal and Saint Augustine's; but you may not have looked up Saint Augustine's to see what The Rev. Bob Cooper and Sallie connected with in Homer.  Here is the link to Saint Augustine's website:

 Saint Augustine's Episcopal Church - Homer, Alaska (saintaugustineshomer.org)

Here is a portion from their 'history' page:

"In 2004, Fr. Bob Cooper and his wife Sallie started coming to Alaska in the summers to serve the congregation through July, August, and early September. They drove round trip each year from Louisiana hauling their travel trailer behind their diesel truck. In addition to leading services in the summer, Fr. Bob made himself available year round as a mentor and counselor for the lay leaders. He also provided sermons to the congregation through many of the fall, winter, and spring months, that is, any time we asked for them, he sent them. It was due to his guidance and unfailing faith in God and us that we were able to begin erecting the church building in 2007. Ben Park, with Fr. Bob’s assistance, wrote a $93,000 grant request that was submitted to United Thank Offering for consideration. UTO was not able to grant the full $93,000, but they did supply $68,000 which was the largest cash grant they had ever awarded to a single entity up to that time. Fr. Bob also brought us contributions from his family and friends, and from the congregations that he served in Louisiana. Volunteer groups arrived in 2007 from Ohio and Alabama to erect the church building, in 2008 from Tennessee to finish the siding on the church, and in 2009 from Omaha, Nebraska to build the garden boxes, layout the labyrinth and line it with beach and river rocks, create a children’s garden, and make benches where people could sit to admire it all.

It was during the time between 2005 and 2007 that we solidified our thoughts and feelings about what our church mission should be. You can now read it every week on our worship bulletin. The mission of St. Augustine’s Episcopal Church is to be a house of worship and prayer, welcoming all with love and acceptance. It has a broad scope and is a constant challenge for us to live up to.

Towards the end of 2008 Rev. Judith Lethin led a number of services for us. 2009 was Fr. Bob and Sallie’s last summer of mission in Homer. Lay worship leaders continued to be the mainstay for Sunday worship services. Elisabeth Aprill passed away in March 2008, followed by Julie Cesarini in October. Lay leaders for 2008 and 2009 were Ben Park, Betsy Lennon, and Judy Mullikin. Rev. Judith came more and more often to lead services for us. Rev. Katherine Hunt and Rev. Gail Loken came to train more lay leaders."

Deacon Bette's homily from Palm Sunday. Portions of Deacon B's homilies are also published in The Tensas Gazette.

"Please Save"

 The Rev. Deacon Bette Kauffman

Christ Episcopal Church, St. Joseph

Year A, Palm Sunday

Isaiah 50:4-9a; Philippians 2:5-11; Matthew 26:14–27:66

It has never been clear to me why a homily is required on Palm Sunday. What can a preacher—or anyone else, for that matter—say after reading the Passion Gospel? Would that we all sit quietly and let the pain.. and the anguish.. and the despair.. of having been forsaken by God wash over us.

So, I don’t have much to say, but a little that matters, at least to me.

I always thought the word “Hosanna!” shouted by the people who waved palms and marched into Jerusalem was a joyous, triumphant “yay, God,” “long live King Jesus” kind of statement.

A few years ago, doing some research for teaching religion in the Grace Middle School, I discovered to my surprise that that’s not at all what it means. Far from being a shout of triumph, it is a plea. “Hosanna” comes from the Hebrew hoshia-nah, which means “please save now.”

In other words, the people who escorted Jesus into Jerusalem with a celebratory parade were not shouting praise, adoration or victory. They were begging to be saved already!

Perhaps then, it is no wonder that just a few days hence, after Jesus had stood silently before the chief priests and elders and refused to defend himself before Pontius Pilate, those same people called for his execution.

He had let them down. Here was a man who refused to save himself, refused to even defend himself. How could he possibly save anyone else? Jesus was a disappointment. He betrayed their hope and longing for a Messiah who would actually solve problems! Fix things! Get the Romans off their back! And so they quickly turned against him.

And are we not like that today? Do we not lay down our palm branches and pick up our weapons rather quickly when our often unrealistic expectations are not met by… whomever or whatever: a political party; a friend; a spouse; our church; a priest, bishop or deacon.

We want what we want and we want it on our terms. Even when we all really want the same thing, we disagree on the way to get there and have trouble even having civil discussions to seek some common ground.

We are very quick to drop our palm branches and pick up our weapons.

Jesus before the elders and before Pilate must have looked like a loser. The people wanted to hitch their wagon to a winner. And don’t we?

And don’t we want God yet today to “please save us now”! Don’t we, too, have unrealistic expectations of God’s role in human life? Why does God allow.. bad things to happen to good people? we ask. Why does God allow poverty? Why does God allow evil in the world? Why, God…? we ask, as if God were in the business of handing out political favors for those who vote for Him.

The people who waved palms that first palm Sunday were unprepared for the answer to their suffering to be Love, simply Love—humble, obedient, self-sacrificing Love that overcomes evil not by fighting back, but by embracing.

I’m not sure we’re any better prepared or accepting today of Love as the answer, Love as that which will save us, than were the people 2000 years ago. We sure don’t act like it! We’d rather dig in our heels and go for the win, regardless of the collateral damage the fight might do.

As we walk through this holy week, let us examine our own expectations of

God, each other, and perhaps most of all, ourselves. Can we accept humble, patient, unconditional Love as the thing that will save us? And if we say “yes” to that, how must it change us?

 

  In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN.