Whom do we pledge our allegiance to? What kingdom do we subscribe to? Do we embrace the way of the Prince of Peace?

For wisdom and laughter shared, thank you. For community and good food, thank you. For the gift of hope, thank you. For love everlasting we give thanks to you God.

A river of life flows out of us and unites us as one.

Our merry band of toddlers reminds me that the only moment to be truly alive is the present moment.

“Let us not become the evil that we deplore” (Very Rev. Nathan Baxter, 9/14/2001)

Our brokenness is what needs to be accepted in order to restore our human condition to a healed state.

Do we intentionally seek out “lonely places” where God’s spirit renews our hearts, and the inner voice of divine wisdom guides us into the next step in life?

Christ does not eliminate all the anger and violence of the world, but he does start transforming the energy of hate, anger, and violence into love, peace, and forgiveness.

In a noisy world with constant movement do we fear silence and stillness? What is lurking beneath the surface of our busy-ness?

To live in the Spirit is to stay connected, to live in a relationship “grounded in love” and reverence.

Does living water cleanse us of debris—worry, fear, and anxiety—and does living water fill us with hope, awe, and wonder at the same time?

May we be gentle with one another as we move faithfully three steps forward and two steps back.

We need Grace to rewire our minds from fear of the other to love of the other. We need to learn to build bridges and not walls that separate us.

How do we move from fear to love? From judgment to empathy? From condemnation to mercy?

Do we see ourselves as recipients of amazing grace or do we believe we have earned everything? How do we respond to grace freely given?

Who has been an authentic friend to us? To whom have we been a friend? Have we discovered God as a faithful friend?

What does it mean for us to see one another and the world with the eyes of Christ? Who is welcome and who is not welcome in the church? Who is in and who is out?

We won’t always know why things happen. We don’t know how life will unfold. We might have more questions than answers.

When the world says go faster and make more noise, our Creator says be still, be silent. We hear God’s wisdom in a “light silent sound” (1 Kings 19:12)

As we let go of our fears and grow slowly, we learn that lightness and darkness, sadness and joy, grief and peace, night and day, inner peace and outer conflict, and hope and despair move together quite often.

Are we in a position to judge? To punish? Can we hold ourselves and others responsible and be merciful at the same time?

What do we do with our feelings of unworthiness and inadequacy? What do we do when we don’t feel acceptable?

“We need sacred places to which we can return when life overwhelms us, and we need to be still and turn inward.”

Who are the people in our lives who have manifested the love, joy, peace, and grace of God? Who has revealed the feminine face of God to us?

Perfection means being in the divine presence even though we are not perfectly whole, good, true, or beautiful.

May the “wind from God sweep over us” (see Genesis 1:2) and through us as we walk through the gardens of our lives.

Isn’t the Divine Presence here, there, and everywhere? In our communion liturgy we say, “Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again.” So where do we see the Living Christ?

The river is a gift we receive but we do not control.

May the living waters flow through us, may we consider the birds of the air, may we be still and know God, may we leave our tombs with “fear and great joy.”

So, they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet Jesus, shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel!” Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it; as it is written: “Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion. Look, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!” ~ John 12:13-15

Love is an open door, a stream of possibilities. When every bone in our body says, “I can’t do this anymore.” Love says, “Yes, you can.”

If we did not have healthy role models, Grace still has a way of finding us. “From God’s fullness we have all received grace upon grace” (John 1:16).

Is it possible for us to live in child-like wonder and awe? Can we live in a state of mystery, curiosity, and wild abandon?

To repent is to change our mind, our way of thinking and living. Are we willing to change? Do we want to change? What changes would give us more peace, more joy, and more love in our lives?

As Nouwen profoundly writes, “The question is not how to avoid loss and make it not happen, but how to choose it as a passage, as an exodus to greater life and freedom.”

Let’s sink into our past, good and bad, and learn, heal, and grow from it. May we be new creations rooted in God’s radical love and grace for all.

More than anything, our hearts crave the warmth and trust of intimacy.

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

The big generous hearts of our youth can turn into cynical adult hearts. Which heart do we feed or cultivate?

By the Grace of God, with humble and contrite hearts, may we move from judgment, anger, and moral smugness towards others, to hearts of empathy and greater understanding

When we go deep into our hearts, beneath our fears, our anxiety, and our insecurities, we discover that God’s heart is our heart. There is Love.

How intentional are we about our need to rest and replenish our souls? As we make our new year’s resolutions, will we create time and space to simply be?

Love is infinite (1 Corinthians 13:8).

When was the last time we were “overwhelmed with joy”? Have we been “surprised by joy”?

How can we increase peace and decrease violence?

It is difficult to keep hope alive when the walls crumble down around us and our communities, and child-like innocence easily fades into adult cynicism and despair.

“More than anything else, we long for home. Our deep ache for intimacy, security, and comfort is, in the end, a longing for home, nothing more. We are forever restlessly searching for someone or something to take us home.”

What does it mean to walk in faith when we have been violated by someone? Can I say the Lord’s Prayer, “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us”? Can I say this prayer with any authenticity if I don’t practice it?

“Our culture invariably supposes that action and accomplishment are better than rest, that doing something—anything—is better than doing nothing. Because we do not rest, we lose our way.”

Fear can prevent us from experiencing the Grace and Mercy of God. Fear can prevent us from loving another human being.

External storms come and go, but how do we make peace with the storms within us which seem to never end?

Jesus says, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” Don’t be afraid in the storms. They are part of life. I will be with you.

May the Spirit continue to flow through us as we let the holy water shape and form us, so we may be one.

Jesus says, “Come and eat breakfast.” You are welcome at my table. “Come and eat.” With the invitation, Peter and the disciples know the Living Christ accepts, forgives, loves, and restores them. Fish and bread have never tasted better.

Patience trusts that the Spirit is working through the world, the church, and us for peace and unity. And patience is active not passive. We become the change we want to see.

What unbinds us and helps us let go of our pain and sorrow? Does grace slowly mend our broken hearts through tears? Through time? Through a listening ear?

Jesus said, “I was hungry and you gave me food. I was thirsty and you gave me something to eat. I was a stranger and you welcomed me.”

With humility, we move from judging someone or a group to having empathy and compassion. We move from seeing in part to seeing more fully, the other person and ourselves.

Sadly, beliefs often exclude rather than include. Beliefs often make the circle smaller and smaller defining who is in and who is out, who is acceptable and who is not. Grounded in the love of Christ, may we make the circle wider and wider until no one is left standing outside it.

The church is a dynamic family. If we are honest, all of us know how beautiful and how difficult family structures can be. Family can build us up, love us, and inspire us; and family can break us down and harm us deeply.

Christ calls us to make our circles wide and to stand in solidarity with all human beings. We have sacred moments where we stand as one in love and forgiveness.

We spiritually grow in liminal space, but generally try to avoid it because it is a time of uncertainty or chaos.

That is what God calls us to do—to see God’s creation and know that it is clean and beautiful—to see our fellow human beings and know that we are all created in God’s image.

We can have more empathy, compassion, and love for our mothers when we recognize the weight of life they had to shoulder.

At a sacred meal, we share our ideas, hopes and failures, new dreams and lost dreams at an inclusive table “flowing with milk and honey.”

Jesus breathes on the disciples and says to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit” (John 20:22). The Spirit is breath. His breath is their breath. Our breath is Christ’s breath.

Sometimes Easter Joy creeps into our Good Fridays. It is good that Good Friday and Easter have their own days, but we can’t really separate them. They are not mutually exclusive events because you can’t have one without the other.

A small, nondescript wooden sign says in block letters, “Please Visit Our Healing Garden.” Who can resist such an invitation?

We are not in control, but we can trust “that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Life is a series of movements and passages. How do we respond to losses and change?

What is the Good News that we can lean into during our current instability and struggles? What can we lean into within our pain, our grief, our disbelief, our cracked foundations, and our shaky footing?

Have we ever feasted on the alpenglow? Have we seen the glory of light revealed? Have we had a “foretaste of glory divine”? Have we stood in the space between heaven and earth? Has light filled us with awe and wonder?

I rolled the shakers around in my hand, examining each scratch and dent, the salt label faded beyond recognition.

All of us will encounter grief and sorrow during our journey through life. Paradoxically, the more we love, the more we will grieve. We cannot avoid it or go around it though we try, but we must go through it.

Is there grace and hope and light in our grief? The pain of our world? Does grief serve a purpose? Does the light come in and out through brokenness?

Mature faith or contemplation “allows us to see the truth of things in their wholeness.” We see our own beauty and our flaws. We begin to recognize the complexity of the people and situations around us.

As we welcome 2022 and our hopes for a New Year, let us make a commitment to practice forgiveness.

When we fall in love, we walk lightly on the ground, and we hear the birds singing. We write poetry and sing songs. Falling in love is a Norman Rockwell painting in process. It is wonderful and so easy to fall into love, but it is quite another thing to stay in love. Can we stay in love with one another and God?

I imagine the shepherds soaked in the sudden, glorious starlight, and they knew that light was “good news of great joy for all people.” What is joy and can we live in joy?

Jesus, the child born in the manger, the Prince of Peace, grows up and embodies peace, creates peace, and shares peace. Blessed are the peacemakers he told us. Put your swords away.

We have moments when get frustrated, lose patience, and get irritated with one another. It’s part of life. But do we also experience moments that saturate us in the way of Christ’s peace and grace?

The one God, creator of all, is not the God of one nation, one religion, one denomination, or one ethnicity. Christ is everywhere. This changes everything.

How often do we respond to anger with more anger? How often do we meet violence with more violence? Mary stands silently in love and compassion not resignation. How do we stand when we face sorrow, anger, or injustice?

Do we practice giving thanks for things big and small? A blue sky, a golden leaf, the soft cool breeze, a friendly hello, our next breath, a hot meal, and a warm bed? A cold pop? Do we find hidden blessings in the struggles and difficulties in life? This is a challenge.

When our hearts are full, life is good and our “cup overflows.” Sometimes when sadness or grief overwhelm us, we might say, “My heart aches.” Jesus said, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart” (Matthew 22:37). The heart is prevalent in all aspects of our lives.

We cannot fit one more thing into our schedule, but the requests for our time and energy do not stop. Can we say no? Did Jesus ever say no to requests for his time, his gifts, and his energy?

Let us give thanks for Christ’s grace and mercy. Let us move from self-righteous judgment to shared empathy. With humility, we are one.

How much time do we spend in Christ’s house of grace living in a spirit of compassion, understanding, acceptance, and reverence for ourselves and others?

When resentment comes into our life, what would God have us do? Should we hang on to it and become more and more bitter?

We can befriend our dreams, befriend our shadow, befriend our unconscious, and we can befriend death.

When we start connecting our pain/grief to the larger world, our common humanity, then we become part of the grand restorative narrative: lost and found, exile and return, death and resurrection. We move from sorrow to joy.

May our deep tears be cathartic and lead to resurrection joy.

Jesus loved everyone and he stood in compassion, empathy, and unity with those on the margins.

Jesus lived in solitude, and he lived in community. He began his ministry by spending forty days alone in the desert (Matthew 4:1-11). How do we begin our days? Before he chose the twelve disciples, he spent the entire night alone in the desert hills (Luke 6:12). Do we spend time in silence before we make decisions?

Do we see our Creator in the stranger? Do we see Christ’s love and goodness in those who are different from us? Would we recognize Jesus if he walked into our church? What would He look like?

If God cannot be rested in, God must not be much of a God. Where do we find rest and peace?

What to an American, to a Christian, is the Fourth of July? I ask this question knowing the answer is myriad, even as America is e pluribus unum—one out of many.

Do we tend to bless, or do we tend to curse? Maybe a little of both, but as we consciously grow in faith we bless more and curse less.

Are we aware of our need to receive forgiveness and extend forgiveness daily? Or, do we say, “We’re just fine.” Is the practice of forgiveness a way of life for us?

What has opened our hearts to a deeper understanding or more tenderness? Has anything closed or hardened our hearts? Can grace and intention transform our hearts?