Views from the Valley

Pastor Mary Jo's Sermons from Charlotte Valley Presbyterian Church

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About

Pastor Mary Jo Koehler serves the Charlotte Valley Presbyterian Church in Davenport, New York. She has served parishes in Kentucky, New York, Iowa (she originates from Iowa), and Wyoming. The church is a small, loving congregation nestled in a valley of the foothills of the Catskill mountains. Sunday worship services are held at 10:00 a.m. Coffee hour follows worship on the second Sunday of the month.

  • The Double Yoke

    Sunday, July 5, 2026

    The Scripture: Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

             But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’ “For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, “He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.

             At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

            “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

    The Sermon

    Before I begin my message, I would like to say words of gratitude to Philip Gladden who wrote commentary about these verses in the online magazine, The Presbyterian Outlook, to which I subscribe. This version has commentary on each Sunday’s lectionary passage. I also get some elements of our liturgy from the magazine which is always written by the person who wrote the commentary, as you can see in the bulletin.

           A portion of our scripture reading for today is quite appropriate as we wrap up a weekend in which the U.S. has celebrated its 250th year of independence from the rule of King George III and Great Britain. Several people of the day wrote some profound words during that time. In the Virginia Declaration of Rights, published in June of 1776, it was written “…that the people of this colony can no longer groan under the heavy yoke of British tyranny.” Thomas Paine wrote that same year in his pamphlet, Common Sense, “…’tis our duty to throw off the yoke of Britain.” John Adams wrote a letter to his wife Abigail, in which he said, “It has been a severe Trial, but the Yoke is broken and we are Free.”

           We know that the breaking of that yoke involved intense, heavy sacrifices that were made on behalf of the quest to achieve the freedom of this country from tyrannical rule, and for this we will always be grateful.

           One conclusion of many that can be drawn from this is that we should never take such freedoms for granted and ever and always keep on the alert for those who would seek ultimate power in our nation. Sometimes it’s not clear exactly how that power grab shows up. From what I understand, sometimes such tyranny sneaks up on people in a nation under the guise of the benefit of all, and turns out to be for the benefit of only a certain elite, with oppression for those who don’t fit the category of a proper citizen.

           But that is another discussion, a political one, I suppose, though I also believe that how we manage our public life can be a reflection of how we also pursue our spirituality and our study of faith in Jesus Christ, his life, and the example he set of how to live in the world as he often challenged authorities and ministered to the outcast, the rejected, the poor, and the downtrodden. Jesus will always and forever be the example I follow as I read and interpret Scriptures. Sometimes I wish we had a more definitive picture of him, but the Scriptures were not written to be an accurate portrayal of Jesus’ historical timeline. They are a compilation of stories seen from the perspective of many people who lived many years after Jesus’ life on earth, and were written to specific people for specific purposes and occasions.

           Out of these writings, then, come the tidbits and treasures, the lessons and the inspiration we find so meaningful in our lives; treasures that are never to be fully and completely uncovered as we dig into the sands and silt of the soils of all we have and know about him. So much to know! This leads us to faith and trust, for we know that God works through the Scriptures, the wisdom of the Holy Spirit, and the guidance of many – sources that might surprise us if we keep our ears open.

           This leads me to our lesson for today. The first thing we encounter in Jesus’ teaching is his description of some whiny people. How many of you know whiny people? These are the ones that, no matter what you do or say, or how you do or say things, they will never be satisfied. They didn’t like John the Baptist because he was too outspoken and radical for them, even as he sought to live a life of an ascetic – a person who sought ritual purity. This would supposedly be pleasing to some of the most legalistic of Jewish leaders, and yet due to his biting prophetic messages, they were offended with him, and passed him off as being possessed.

           And then came Jesus, who attended festivities and spent time with sinners, and they didn’t like him, either. It didn’t seem to matter. It was the message they were rejecting, anyway. They were using John and Jesus who served as God’s mouthpieces as their excuse to claim that the message was not legitimate.

           But Jesus’ perspective on that was his recognition that those who claimed to be the wise, all-knowing ones are often the whiners. As long as they are the ones who get to decide who has the authority, they are fine. But anyone who claims to know anything that contradicts their own personal wisdom and ways is rejected.

           We know, too, that in our day, we may not have whiners like the “generation” Jesus was speaking to, but we do often have whiners who have preferences, but no matter what anyone does, or how hard anyone tries, they are never going to be satisfied. In the first parish I served, things were going along fairly smoothly until one day I realized one of my parishioners was unhappy with me. The sermons were too long. I’d hired someone to clean the church and they didn’t know the proper way to clean the very difficult-to-clean flooring in the basement fellowship area, and it was my fault. I let someone borrow tables and they allegedly never returned them. I don’t know what other offenses I committed, but the person went from an ally to an enemy, and I’m not even quite sure how. I’m sure she had a list of my faults. But what I knew then and still know now about her is that she is probably most unhappy with herself. Maybe there has been or will be a time in her life when she will come to terms with this and look inward. Until then, a whiner she will be, wherever she goes.

           But let’s remember that God reveals things to the people we might least expect to understand. “The infants.” Those who claim to not have all the answers. Let’s remember in our own lives that we, too, don’t have all the answers…we have a Savior who does!

           And here’s the great part about the yoke. We all are weary and carrying heavy burdens of so many kinds in our lives these days. Some maybe more than others. We have mental and emotional struggles, family struggles, medical struggles, uncertainties in our faith, uncertainties about the future of our lives and our church; issues with work, school, communication with others, and just getting from point A to point Z some days.

           But these are the beautiful words of Jesus: “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

           Maybe in your mind you are thinking of a single yoke, which is the part that goes around the neck of the beast that it is put upon, but in most cases, there are two yokes, so that two animals carry the burden together. You can put one yoke across your shoulders, and carry two buckets or other items on each side of them so the weight distributes evenly.

           This is why I named this sermon, “The Double Yoke”, because when we receive Jesus’ yoke, he carries it with us. And he said it is easy, and the burden is light. This is a different kind of yoke from the one of tyrannical rule under which our nation first began. It was a heavy burden, and did not allow the early Americans to do the things they needed to do here in the colonies that would work best for the way and place in which they wanted to live. They were expected to bear the yoke of lives that were ruled in Britain. Part of that included the establishment of a national religion, and any people who worshiped God outside that religion were subjected to fines, harassment, or imprisonment.

           And so here, our Constitution provided for what we call the separation of church and state, in which the state will not demand that its citizens abide by a national religion, but all people living in this country are allowed to live by each one’s moral compass, with the freedom to establish a variety of religions and faiths that would not be subject to regulation by the government.

           It’s a beautiful thing. I know many people who want us to be a Christian nation, and believe that we were built as a nation upon Christian principles, and in part, we were, though not all signers of our Declaration of Independence were Christian. Some were Diests, some were Unitarian, and some were Freemasons. The main point was their commitment to freedom from a religion run by the State. And to this day, our government has sought to honor this part of our Constitution, for the most part.

           Meanwhile, we have been freed, as citizens, celebrating our independence from a national religion, and we, as individuals, have chosen to become part of the Christian faith, honoring who we believe to be our Creator, who sent Jesus to be the central figure of our faith. And this man Jesus, who went to be with God and is present now with us in prayer, spirit and in truth, now tells us to take up his yoke and share his burden.

           What is his burden? He invites us first by learning from him. Learning requires listening, absorbing, practicing, remembering. And the person Jesus, who shares this yoke with us, is gentle and humble in heart, a place where you can find rest. Imagine working alongside someone like that, who works with us, carries part of our load, and is gentle and humble in heart. How pleasant it would be to work with someone like that! We know that the work we do for Jesus isn’t always easy, and that the responsibility we have to live a life that glorifies him is not without its challenges.

           But as American citizens, freed from the yoke of a national religion, and as Christians who have donned the yoke that we share with our loving Savior, Jesus, who is more than ready and willing to help us bear our burdens, we can live our lives in this place of freedom relying on the knowledge that he shares our burdens and carries the load with us. For this, we can give much thanks to God as we celebrate who we are in 2026! Amen.

  • Risky Business

    Sunday, June 21, 2026

    The Scripture: Matthew 10:24-39

            “A disciple is not above the teacher nor a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household!

            “So have no fear of them, for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light, and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops. Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather, fear the one who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid; you are of more value than many sparrows.

            “Everyone, therefore, who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven, but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven.

            “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace but a sword.

            For I have come to set a man against his father,

            and a daughter against her mother,

            and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law,

            ands one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.

            “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and hose who lose their life for my sake will find it.”

    The Sermon

           Who would have thought that being a Christian in these days would be risky business? What, to you, is risky about the Christian message? What is it that people don’t seem to like about it that makes them react like some of the people around Jesus reacted? And what is it that has caused Christians throughout the ages to be persecuted: thrown in prisons, hung, beheaded, burned at the stake, shot, and nailed to crosses?

           Well, let me take the easy route and summarize what AI says. First: “Authoritarianism. In countries with extreme government control like North Korea, Christianity is legally suppressed. Totalitarian regimes view the Christian principle of ultimate loyalty to God as a direct threat to state authority.” Hard to believe, isn’t it, in our country, where the current trend in the government is to tout Christian faith as the nation’s top religion, attempting to base its principles on what some interpret the Bible to dictate as appropriate for us to do? Though that point could be debated, because we know that Christians themselves interpret the Bible in different ways, and place more emphasis on certain parts of it than others. So the religion our nation may claim to serve as its guide isn’t necessarily a definitive view. This is, in part, why our country has respected religious freedom and has sought to separate its dictates from what the government guides us to be and do. It’s dangerous territory to wander into when it comes to trying to claim a particular religion as a nation’s guide. We see trouble that has brewed from here to the ends of the earth each time a country claims anything – or anyone – as in the case of North Korea – as the sole arbiter of a country’s leadership and faith. Even Christian-oriented nations can become authoritarian regimes.

           Second: “Religious extremism. In various regions across the Middle East, Africa, and parts of Asia, radicalized militant groups target Christians through terrorism, abductions, and the destruction of churches.” These are products of religions that believe their way is THE right way, and that their deity sanctions the harming of anyone who dare think or worship differently. Even Christians need to be careful about this. It occurs everywhere, and Christians can also be the perpetrators of persecution.

           Third: “Ethno-Religious Nationalism. In nations where national and religious identities are tightly intertwined (such as specific policies in India and Pakistan), Christian minorities frequently face discriminatory laws and social ostracization.” It is a sad thing to know. And yet, we as Christians in the United States must also be careful, for I have seen minority religions being treated in the same way right here in this country.

           Fourth: “Cultural Rejection. In places where Christianity is viewed as a foreign, non-native influence (such as parts of the Middle East), Christians are often met with suspicion and scapegoated for local political or social issues.”

           And fifth: “Human Rights Advocacy. Because church leaders often speak out against corruption, violence, and the exploitation of the poor, they are frequently targeted by powerful criminal organizations and oppressive governing bodies.”

           And so it is that being Christian can be risky business. But how often do you or I feel that we are in danger, at risk of estrangement from loved ones or under the threat of death, mocking, imprisonment or persecution because of our beliefs? I don’t, though I know some who fear it.

           Is being a Christian in your home, or among your family members and even friends, risky business? If you spoke up and declared your faith in Jesus as your Savior and Lord, do you think you would be in danger? What do you think might happen? What’s the worst thing that has happened to you as a result of your declaration of faith?

           I can give you two stories in my life where expression of my faith caused trouble, that I can remember in particular, one direct, and one indirect. I don’t mean to get one of my brothers into trouble, because he is one of the kindest, most loving people I know, but when I was in college I launched into evangelical Christianity with all the enthusiasm I could muster. This led me to attempt to convert every soul around me. College roommates and friends. Strangers on the street on rare occasions. Even members of my own church! And one day, in a fit of concern for my brother, I sent him a letter telling him it was necessary for him to believe in Jesus Christ so that he could end up in heaven with the rest of us true believers. Well! That went over like a lead balloon! I got a letter back from him with a fairly firm chastisement that he didn’t appreciate me trying to save his soul. I don’t remember the actual words, but I do remember that it really stung. I’m sure my words stung him as well, and I have often regretted my impulsivity, even if my motives based on my beliefs at the time were well-meaning. Never again did I speak to my brother about such matters, at least not in that way. Since then, my beliefs have matured and mellowed, and he knows that my faith as I hold it now is all about God’s love, with very little else to add, save for my belief in the ways Jesus taught us to live, and I see him living often in those ways anyway.

           The second time you might say that my Christian faith got me into hot water had more to do with my identity as a clergyperson. In this case, it also involved that same dear brother. He had unfortunately married a woman who had a great deal of trouble with alcohol. She had a beautiful, sincere and loving spirit deep inside her, but she could not handle life without liquid spirits. It was sad. The time came when my brother had finally had enough. He was in the midst of an effort to get her to leave, and tensions were high. They had a small child at the time as well, and it was difficult for me to watch the turmoil and the life that child had to live in the conflict between his father and mother. And so, I spoke up, which I rarely did. Usually, I was the pastoral, sympathetic ear to her hurt and pain, part of which I discovered later was fabricated. An attempt to get attention. And when I did speak up, she was furious. I think the final words I heard from her as I drove away from their home one evening, perhaps the final words I ever heard from her at all, were something like this: “I can’t believe you said that to me! And you’re a minister!” As if a pastor couldn’t have an opinion about how someone was being treated, and that I would actually express it to her face. I surprised even myself, but I never regretted saying it. I don’t really remember what it was, but I’m sure that she learned that I was not happy with the way she was behaving with my brother and their child. I was stung, once again, but this was different. Yes, my opinion was because of my faith, though I’m sure what I said had no words in it about anything spiritual. My opinion was because of how I believed God called us to live – in love and kindness and respect for one another, and care for vulnerable children. And my brother, well, he wasn’t perfect, but he was doing his best.

           In the days in which Jesus spoke to his disciples about what it meant to be his followers, being one of “those people” was a bit more dangerous than it is now. It might be easy to see their world as a rather benign place with lots of friendly people around sitting under shade trees and mountainsides and next to lakes teeming with fish. But there were also authoritarians there. Extremists (as some claimed Jesus’s followers were). Probably some ethno-nationalism. Certain among some of the Jews, there was a bit of that, as we know that in addition to the Romans, some of the Jewish leaders were the instigators of Jesus’ arrest and death. There may have been cultural rejection – Jesus was a Jew, and Jews were a minority among the people living under Roman rule. And one of the main aspects of Jesus’ persecution had to do with his advocacy for the poor, the needy, the sick, the unclean, those possessed by entities and mental illnesses, those being told that true worship involved not doing all the right things and serving the religious establishment, but serving God alone.

           People were searching, full of unrest. Wanting a better world. Feeling deprived of privileges given to those who had more means than they did. Wanting to have a closer relationship to their Creator without the trappings of religious ritual, law and expectation. Seeing that kindness and mercy was much more preferable than proper obedience to sacrificial laws and rituals.

           Jesus came on the scene and offered that, and much more.

           And those in authority, be they the government or the religious establishment, saw that as a threat.

           And then there was the sticky, sensitive situation of relationships in families and among loved ones. In volatile times and places that I suppose are somewhat different from ours, having different religious beliefs was threatening as well. In those days I wouldn’t be surprised if people saw God as much more ominous than many of us do now. I do believe that based on our faithful forefathers and mothers we were taught to respect one another, and our laws at their essence were set up so that we would have such respect. Our culture is a melting pot full of so many colors and flavors that we find ourselves much more accepting.

           Again, what about our faith is actually risky business?

           Well, I think there are some things about our beliefs that we keep locked behind little closed doors in our lives because we fear the persecution we might experience if we truly expressed them. We love and need our families. We love and need our colleagues and friends. We love and need our church brothers and sisters. And if we tell them about something we believe, about inclusivity or the lack of it; about the place government should have in our lives and the things the government should or should not be legislating; about how we should dress or look or behave; about how we should spend money or encourage the spending and the distribution of it; about who we should invite or avoid to be a part of our tribe – well, if we open those doors we might find ourselves in the position Jesus warned his disciples about.

           Only you know what is hiding behind those doors, and I know what’s behind mine. If someone asked me personally about some of my beliefs with an open mind and heart, I’d be happy to tell them. I hope that all of you are those kinds of people. And I hope I would be the kind of person who would listen to you, with whom I might disagree on some points, and with whom I pray I would agree that love – God’s deep and all-expansive and all-understanding love – is the most important thing that exists in this world.

           So there really still is risky business in our faith, and most of us keep quiet about it, because conflict is messy. I understand this – I hate conflict.

           But I pray that we each and all will feel free to live and express ourselves without fear – and be willing to turn to God as our guide in times of the conflict and persecution that may come when we actually do express some beliefs and views that we know are not going to be looked on with favor by others.

           I pray that we can be the kind of people who love God so much, and place God first in our lives, that we are willing to love others just as much, and find ways to live in love with one another, allowing ourselves to share as brothers and sisters with deeply generous hearts – even when we disagree.

           For it is God we follow, and God is the one who loves us in every way we need, when others may seem to be against us.

           That is the life Jesus calls us to. Let’s walk that road together. Amen.

  • Welcoming Jesus

    Screenshot

    Sunday, June 28, 2026

    The Scripture: Matthew 10:40-42

    [Jesus said,] “Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward, and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous, and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple–truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.”

    The Sermon

    As I thought about what it means to welcome Jesus, as the title of this sermon suggests, I thought about some experiences I had years ago when I was a staff member of a worldwide evangelical Christian organization whose responsibility it was to go out and tell the world about Jesus, and how each person needed to accept him as their personal savior in order to be in right standing before God.

           And so, regardless of what area of the ministry we were working in, going out and telling others about Jesus was at least one small part of our ministry. I worked in the media department, mostly as a phototypesetter (a rare career in these days of personal computers that allow even the least typographically-savvy people to work up a flyer, a poster, or a card). When I was in training for work in this organization, I joined up with a group of young, starry-eyed people who were accepted into the ministry and given training in Ft. Collins, Colorado. I learned a lot. Played a lot of guitar. Enjoyed the daily rain showers that fell every afternoon on the east side of the Rocky Mountains. And one day, we went up into the Rockies on a soul-winning expedition. Rocky Mountain National Park, full of all sorts of summer vacationers. Our goal was to share the contents of a little booklet, otherwise known as a tract, called “The Four Spiritual Laws.” It was developed by the organization’s leader and was seen as an almost magical formula for a person’s salvation, should they choose to accept the words of this little tome.

           And so we proceeded to hike near an area where we found a group of young folk, relaxing in the shade near a footbridge. I seem to remember maybe a bicycle or two lying in the grass nearby. And two of the people in our little team went over to them and began sharing with them the Four Spiritual Laws.

           I watched them. The idea of doing such a thing terrified me, and part of me wanted to walk away from that little trip and never go back. Meanwhile, the recipients of our well-intentioned encounter were not happy at all, nor were they welcoming. This happened so long ago that I don’t exactly remember what I did, but I am almost certain that I said, or tried to hint, to the people who were pressing this news upon the young vacationers, “Let’s go. Let’s leave them alone.” And to my embarrassment, the brave crusaders were determined to get all the way through that book. Did they convert anyone? I’m pretty confident they did not. What a relief it was when my friends finally got the message. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were asked, flat out, to just go away.

           Another aspect of my time with this ministry was when I reached my destination in San Bernardino, California and had become full-fledged staff in that same organization. We were encouraged by our media supervisor to take part in a phone campaign. Bibles had been given out by staff all over the country, and in them was an 800 number to call if any interest was piqued by the recipients. Our job was to follow a script, probably not unlike the booklet we used in the Rockies, only it was a large thing, like a diagram, with boxes and quotes and arrows guiding us from one subject to another. If they gave one response, we’d go one direction. If they gave another, we’d proceed a different way, with hopes they would all end up in the arms of Jesus.

           Unfortunately, I received a call by a number on the other end of which was a woman in a very, very dark place in her life. Needless to say, I decided not to be your typical crusader – I wonder who would have been – and I found myself completely ignoring the script in an effort to meet this woman in the place where she was in her life. I can only pray that my response was helpful, because there was no way I would ever be able to contact that person again. It did not involve sharing four spiritual laws. I can’t imagine how that would have gone.

           This leads me back to the Scripture lesson. Jesus’ disciples are actually the subjects of this lesson: they are the prophets, the righteous people and the “little ones” Jesus tells his listeners to offer their kindness and hospitality to. And granted, while we know that at some point along the line the disciples’ role was to convey the message that Jesus wanted them to convey, they were also told, as was proclaimed in the gospel lesson two weeks ago, from Matthew 10:8: “As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick; raise the dead; cleanse those with a skin disease; cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment.”

           Hmmm. Interesting. There’s something missing from this enjoinder: A booklet. A formula. Four spiritual laws about how to know the man who was very possibly standing among them, or somewhere nearby.

           He didn’t say, “If you share a booklet and a formula, the commonwealth of heaven will come.” He said, “Tell them the realm of heaven has come near.” He also told them to heal people. Make people better. Give to people. Take care of people. Do good to people.

           And in this one, he speaks to the listeners, telling them how to treat the disciples, the people who were out there serving with him. “Welcome them,” he said. “Give them a cup of water,” he said. “Because when you do, you will receive the same reward as they.” And most crucially, he says, “Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me.”

           That’s where we find out what it means to welcome Jesus. Welcoming Jesus means to welcome those who represent him; those sent to work on his behalf. Prophets. Righteous ones. Little ones. All three of those roles were taken on by the disciples. Prophets: by proclaiming that the kingdom of God is near. Righteous people: I really like Google AI’s summary of Matthew’s view. “In the Gospel of Matthew, ‘righteous’ people are those who humbly obey God’s will and show compassion, rather than acting in religious pride.” Little ones: Also the disciples. Prophets in the name of prophets. Righteous people in the name of righteous people. Little ones in the name of a disciple. Little, as in children of God. Learners. Out there doing something new and probably just as scary as reading tracts to unwilling folk in the Rocky Mountains. Jesus asked the people to treat his disciples – and I have no doubt he didn’t mean just the twelve, but his many followers, men, women and children alike – with respect, and love. And in so doing, they would be treating him the same way. They would be honoring him. They would receive their reward – because the realm of heaven was near.

           And so we come to this little church in this little town called Davenport. Who might we be? Are we the people to whom Jesus speaks, being asked to treat Jesus’ representatives well? Who would those people be? Pastors, teachers, guides: people out there in front, whose names would be associated with the word “leaders” and “Christians.”

           But we also are the disciples. Don’t forget that I included women and children, too.

           In fact, this gospel passage encompasses a lot of people. For those who treated Jesus and his disciples well likewise became disciples and followers. Just handing out something as simple as a cup of cold water to a disciple was highly meaningful to Jesus, and we know that he often used simple illustrations to convey very big concepts. A cup of cold water could mean a hello, a handshake, and a bit of respect. Even respect for people who don’t want to hear the contents of a booklet called “The Four Spiritual Laws.” Great respect and compassion for people who call a phone number when they are in desperate need of help, and not words of a formula that takes a person nowhere because it has nothing to do with what that person really needs at that moment.

           We are those disciples. We are to be treated with respect. And we are also to treat others in the same way. With love, and compassion, willing to proclaim God’s love in word and deed, and willing to share at the very least a cup of cold water with others. Because you never know when you might be sharing something special with Jesus in disguise.

           A cup of cold water could mean more to someone than all the riches in the world. Food, a kind word, a helping hand, all expressed in the name of Jesus, could mean much more to someone than offering them a formula for how to know God. Jesus and his followers went out and spent time with people, and the receptive ones listened, heard, and heeded.

           So can, and do, we, in so many, many ways, too, because each of us has gifts to offer others. A sweet spirit. A helpful hand. A book. A card. A smile. Cooking. Baking. Fixing. Guiding. Our time, our talents, our treasures. Our prayers. You are valuable. You have something to offer. And I believe every one of you is aware of the impact you can have on and in the world around you.

           And I believe that by being who we are, where we are, as the wonderful people that we are, we are indeed welcoming Jesus.

           One final word, though. In one of my commentaries I read this little story: “Recently a friend told of an interaction with a bagger at her local grocery store. She had been talking with this woman off and on for a year, and upon learning that she no longer worked on Sundays, invited her to come to her church, to their casual, outdoor, come-as-you-are service. Much to my friend’s surprise, the woman responded by giving her a hug!”

           This is the cup of water we can offer. The invitation. We love our church, so why not invite others to join us here? We are God’s prophets, God’s righteous ones, God’s little disciples, all. May we, by opening our doors to others, know that in so doing, we are always and forever welcoming Jesus. Amen.

  • Take a Look Around

    Sunday, June 14, 2026

    Scripture

    Matthew 9:35-10:8

    Then Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them because they were harassed and helpless, like a sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

             Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness. These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon, also known as Peter, and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee and his brother John; Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus and Thaddaeus; Simon the Cananaean and Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed him.

            These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Do not take a road leading to gentiles, and do not enter a Samaritan town, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ Cure the sick; raise the dead; cleanse those with a skin disease; cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment.”

    The Sermon

    Take a look around. It’s quite a world we live in. We see people scurrying all over the place; we see idle people; we see people with great means and all sorts of creature comforts; we see people struggling, having to walk to the store to get their beer because they probably don’t have a driver’s license. In your world on a routine basis, what do you see?

           In our gospel reading, we see Jesus as he takes a look around his world. He sees his people – the Jews, the children of Abraham, and the myriad people who live around them, and he has compassion on them. As Matthew says, they are harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. He is moved by them. He knows that under the guidance of many of the Jewish leaders, and as people living under Roman rule, they have not been treated well. He aches to help release them from that bondage and make their lives better. And as we know, he does many things in that effort.

           As we take a look around, we see that times are tough for many people in our world, too. We ourselves complain a lot, but the truth is we have it really quite good. Think of those whose lives are a challenge for many reasons. We work with them in the community, and for some of us, our hearts go out. It’s a mixed thing – we often are of the opinion that if people could only just pull themselves up by their own bootstraps they could do better. I wonder if that’s what some of Jesus’ cohorts thought? But Jesus’ compassion isn’t conditional. It isn’t based on what he thinks they ought to have done in their lives or what they ought to be doing to make a better world for themselves. He looks out and sees a great harvest. What’s the harvest? People ripe and ready and waiting for something new and different. Hope. Healing. Joy. Empowerment. A knowledge that God is on their side.

           How about us? What’s the nature of our compassion? We know it’s not quite as simple as, “see a person in need, give them what they need, and all is well.” We know there are ways to help people help themselves. That’s a solid way to handle things. Who knows what was available to the needy of Jesus’ day? We certainly hear of the beggars on the streets and the roadsides. There may have been places for them to go to rest, to eat.

           And when we have that compassion, what do we do with it? We extend our sympathy, we help them directly sometimes, and other times we give to organizations that are specially trained to give out such care. Sometimes find it appropriate to invite them to be part of our church or our community groups. We are not uncaring people.

           We also realize that a large part of Jesus’ ministry involved sharing the news of God’s love. Times are different now in the church – that news has been proclaimed and interpreted in many ways. If anyone wants to know about our faith, they don’t have to look far. Christianity is not new. But the news may still be new to some whose lives never really included anything related to the church. That news is that God loves them, that God/the realm of heaven is nearer than they can ever imagine; that they are not alone.

           Another piece of Jesus’ story is that he made sure his followers knew that this harvest wasn’t just for him to take care of. Just because he had a powerful personality and amazing ability to teach and minister to others didn’t mean he was supposed to do everything alone. What would be the point? And so, he looked at his followers and said, “The harvest is plentiful! But the laborers are few! Therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

           After all, you can’t really harvest a crop, most of the time, without help. We have some pretty amazing machinery that can do the work of multiple people, but we still need help. In Jesus’ day, the harvest involved many people. So he started with his disciples. Imagine what it was like to be them: with the ability to do works of healing and deliverance and change lives in such radical ways. It would be surreal. It would seem like a dream.

           We really don’t hear a lot about what the disciples actually did on their harvest journey. Unlike Jesus, we find other places in the gospels where they had a lot of questions, just like you and me. Who was this man Jesus, and the God that he claimed to get power from? Even in the midst of all of this, they still had very real doubts and uncertainties about what they were being asked to do.

           And, well, so are we. We are still called to gather in the harvest. We are still called to BE workers and to pray for more workers. We take a look around and we SEE what that harvest might be. In some ways, it’s very much like what Jesus saw. In other ways, it’s not, although at its very basis, it still involves people seeking a life in which, regardless of circumstances, there is a sense of security and peace. A knowledge that someone or something greater than they are is at work in the world, loves them, and upon whom they can depend.

           And so, as people of this fellowship, we have a calling, right here in the gospel of Matthew. We are called to look around and see the needs. They are many. We’ve probably been a part of meeting many of those needs even when we were unaware of it.

           But the question is this: do people know in whose name we reach out in compassion and caring? Maybe our Christian love and compassion is so much a part of us that we forget who we represent – which is really a kind of cool. But the people Jesus and his disciples ministered to surely had to have had some knowledge – well, especially since there were miracles involved – of who it is that had come into their lives and helped them to realize that there was more in life than living in subjection to cruel, selfish authorities.

           It’s good also to remember that Jesus’ disciples and followers were not loners. Whether they hung out with him every day and traveled with him, or were supporters and hosts to Jesus in his travels, they were a community. They worked and prayed and served together.

           These were the workers, and in their work they brought in more workers – because they told people who it was who gave them authority to do what they did. It was Jesus. And because of that, we know about him, and we know him today.

           That is important. We don’t have to be preachy about it. But we can certainly be bold to express our connection to this church and our reliance on God in our daily lives. We can make a difference, just like Jesus and his disciples did, to the point where it literally changed a big part of the world.

           So look around you. Will you open your eyes to see the “harassed and helpless” people, like sheep without a shepherd? Would we know them? Let’s point our lives, and our friends, family, and neighbors, toward the Good Shepherd of the sheep: Jesus, who will never lead us astray and will comfort us with his rod and staff. Let us be the laborers, able to discern which of the planted crops are ready for or in need of harvest.

           And let us most of all cast our hearts and minds on God, who through the Holy Spirit will guide us and introduce us to possibilities galore in which we may minister to the lost sheep of our community and our world. Amen.

    ****

    Questions for Reflection

    Here are some questions to reflect on as you consider this message and the words of Jesus.

    Take a look around you, wherever you live, work, play.

    Do you see people who are harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd?

    Who are they?

    Where are they?

    What do they need?

    Is there anything you can do to fulfill Jesus’ command to his disciples; i.e., what can you to do to be of assistance to these sheep without a shepherd?

    How can you incorporate that into your life in the Charlotte Valley Presbyterian Church, or any church you attend?

    How can you incorporate that into your life in the world?

    Is it something different from what you’re doing now?

    What’s the first step you might take? What’s keeping you from taking it?

  • The Doctor Is In

    Sunday, June 7, 2026

    Scripture

    Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

             As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax collection station, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him.

            And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with Jesus and his disciples. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

            While he was saying these things to them, suddenly a leader came in and knelt before him, saying, “My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” And Jesus got up and followed him, with his disciples. Then suddenly a woman who had been suffering from a flow of blood for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak, for she was saying to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well.” Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And the woman was made well from that moment. When Jesus came to the leader’s house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, he said, “Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl got up. And the report of this spread through all of that district.

    Sermon

           Everybody needs a doctor sometimes. Some of us are well-acquainted with our doctor, or in most cases, doctors. Others of us might darken the door of a doctor’s office now and then, but each time we go, the greetings are cordial and the history needs to be revisited due to the passage of great lengths of time between visits.

           There are doctors for so many things. Even things we don’t normally think of that need “medical” care. I recall years ago – I believe I was living in Cheyenne, Wyoming – when I heard a jingle in a TV ad that went like this: “Call the Glass Doctor: he’ll fix your pane.” Whoever came up with that ad was pretty brilliant, if you ask me. I decided to do some research since the internet is just a few finger taps away, and I discovered that, for heaven’s sake, the Glass Doctor is almost everywhere. Even as close as Syracuse. Window “pane” is being fixed all over the country!

           And we have doctor specialists for all sorts of remedies, with all sorts of names and functions. We have doctors who specialize in treatment of body parts that make us wonder why they made the choice – you know what I mean. There are also doctors called “nocturnists.” They work in hospitals only at night, and treat general medicine issues. One might think they are “night owl” sort of people, and I suppose they are. A new term that’s crossed my path in recent years is that of “hospitalist”. This is a doctor who sole job is daytime work at a hospital, seeing patients through their care from the day they arrive to the day they leave.

           But like I said, pretty much all of us need a doctor, even if it’s not the kind that treats issues of body or mind. Sometimes we need a physician who can tend to our many needs – someone who can teach us and help us to heal the many problems we encounter in life, like issues with money, the lack of it or the excessive desire for it, with complications involving the way that we obtain it and the way we use it – ways that result in either blessing or bane for ourselves and others.

           Others of us need a doctor who, if we are willing to allow it, can work with us to help change our perspective on things in our lives. Sometimes we think and feel as though we are superior to others for various reasons. Our status in life is important, and we don’t need people threatening to usurp that status, even if by the grace of God we obtained it as we look back through our lives. We think we are the author of our status and achievements and deserve all the recognition and honor we can get.

           There are many, many ways in which we could use a doctor: a physician, who treats problems and brings about solutions. What kind of doctor do you need today?

           Our Scripture reading for today portrays the person around which our faith is centered: Jesus, the Christ. To many, as a result of this particular report of Jesus’ actions and words, he has been named down through the ages as “The Great Physician.” It’s easy to see why. He’s not only a “Doctor” of religious studies and wisdom, simply by virtue of the fact that his thoughts and actions are informed and motivated by the Creator. He is a healer of a woman with a menstrual issue, a constant passing of blood for years. We women can imagine what that would be like – so inconvenient and so utterly exhausting. Just being in his presence and touching the fringe of Jesus’ cloak summons the amazing healing power of God.

           He even raises a dead girl to life, even though the mourning crowd has already surrounded the girl’s home. “She is not dead but sleeping,” Jesus says. And sure enough, Jesus goes into the house and walks the girl out to the amazed onlookers, family and friends.

           But Jesus uses the analogy of the physician when he speaks to the Pharisees at a dinner to which he has invited what the scripture calls “tax collectors and sinners.” We can imagine what the tax collectors have done in their lives, but don’t you wonder what personalities the word “sinners” covers?

           Why, the Pharisees wonder, does a man like Jesus, who is so well-acquainted with the faith the Pharisees treasure, teach, and abide by every day, hang out with impure people? The Pharisees are steeped in their tradition in which anything flawed must be cleansed and made perfect in order to please God. It seems rather ironic, doesn’t it, that One who created the entire universe and everything in it, from the dirt on the ground, the germs, the bacteria, the sludge, the ashes, the cinders, the goo, the glop, the debris, and the decay, can’t seem to handle anything but perfection? Or at least that’s what the Pharisees believe – that God cannot look on anything less than pristine.

           They are about to get a different lesson. When they wonder about this to Jesus’ disciples, Jesus replies, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.” Jesus quotes the scriptures that those Pharisees ought to have known well if they read their scrolls. Hosea 6:6 proclaims as a word from God, “For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.” How and why do they seem to miss the point of God’s mercy, even though, along with the law, it has been mentioned and proclaimed many times throughout the Old Testament? How did Abraham and Sarah come to be the heirs of God’s promise, when no Hebrew faith had yet been formed? God was at work, loving and ministering to people long before any idea of law and sacrifice and burnt offerings had ever been conceived. It appears that, in the eyes of many religious leaders like the Pharisees, there was a sense of security in knowing just exactly how to please God. There was a sense of pride in being able to do so in the very best ways. And that sense of pride led them to claim superiority over the others who were invited to the dinner.

           Jesus foiled their plans, and dashed their confidence. He acknowledged his gifts as a healer. He also had a gift that attracted “sinners” to him, such as Matthew. Google’s AI overview describes someone like Matthew in this way: “In the time of Jesus, tax collectors (publicans) were Jewish men hired by the Roman Empire or local rulers to collect customs, tolls, and tributes. Deeply despised as traitors and extortioners who grew wealthy by overcharging their own people, they were socially ostracized and classified alongside the lowest sinners.”

           Jesus, the man of God, inviting into the physician’s office not only those who thought they had righteousness in the bag, but those who knew they had big issues. They were the ones who were the most enthusiastic about having been invited. They were the ones who most deeply needed, received, and appreciated the welcome they got from someone who was deemed quite special in the eyes of God.

           Jesus, the Great Physician, healing the desires of publicans who no doubt were tired of having to resort to crooked, shameful means in order to do the job they were hired to do. And how was he healing them? Not through the medicine of the law, the statutes, the requirements religions often laid out before their adherents that enabled them to remain connected to the group, But through the medicine of mercy. Sheer mercy. Sheer love of people for who they were, as they were, no questions asked. People who longed to see a better, more honorable life, but felt the standards of the Pharisees were far too lofty to achieve, so why even bother?

           And it was those same publicans and sinners who became some of Jesus’ most ardent and devout followers. It was those same publicans and sinners who were a part of Jesus’ mission of mercy, bringing into the fold people who might never have darkened the door of a house of worship.

           That’s who Jesus was, and is. A physician to all of us sick people, in whatever ways we are in need, in this hospital for sinners, as opposed to that proverbial “museum for saints.” I hope we all realize the magnitude of this reality. Even as the church of Jesus followers began on this mercy and grace, and though no doubt the Jewish law and customs were honored, the church was not necessarily intended to be what, in many places, it has become. A place of expectations. A place of staidness and stiffness. A place of exclusion. A place of stilted ritual and shame when humanness breaks through (though I don’t think we’re like that in our church). A place where pharisee-types still parade up and down chancels and aisles proclaiming a distant God of judgment. That’s not the church Jesus and his early disciples intended. They met in homes, along roadways, gathered in rooms, sat in windows and on the grass, and worshiped, welcomed, learned and prayed. What happened to the church centuries later was that the trappings took over. Jesus became someone to revere and put on a pedestal, at a distance. Yet thank God that we here still do our best to remember the personal, very real nature of a man who had a special connection to God, and yet loved and adored REAL PEOPLE like you and me. He loved the Pharisee types, too, but they just didn’t understand.

           Jesus still does this work, among us, in us, and through us. He still heals, in ways we may not realize. He welcomes children. He includes people our society deems as “odd” or “other” or “foreign.” He has compassion on people in need. He came to set an example to us of who we are to be among others: physicians and caregivers and helpers all.

           As we come to this table today to share in the simple, yet symbolic supper that represents Jesus giving of himself for others, let us imagine him here with us as the bread is passed and juice is poured and distributed. He is why we are here. He is with us as we share together. He is our Great Physician, who knows just how to heal our hurting hearts, and challenges us to become like him as we live in this world: Willing to hang out with and welcome both sinners and saints. Willing to offer mercy and grace to those who think they’re not good enough to come to church. Willing to reflect on our own importance as actual servants of God, not keepers of the castle and guardians of the breach.

           Jesus, the Great Physician, invites you to join at the table with him, and then take that grace that has been poured to you and share it with others in whatever ways you can.

           Does anyone need special help? The doctor is in! Amen.

  • Having It All

    for Sunday, May 31, 2026

    Scripture: Matthew 28:16-20

            Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him, but they doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

    The Sermon

    There is a laundry detergent on the market that probably every single person in this building knows about and has possibly used. It’s called “all®.” It was developed in 1959, which means that I was a little one when this miraculous project came into being. My mother didn’t use it that I recall, but I’ve used it from time to time. I’ve found it to be an effective and slightly less expensive purchase compared to some of the leading brands, though at this present moment I’m using laundry sheets instead, trying to do my little bit in helping save the environment by using fewer chemicals. To my delight, these laundry sheets work pretty well.

           No websites say why the detergent was given that name, though I might offer a few guesses: It’s a detergent that has been formulated to rid garments of “all” stains and dirt, including oil, catsup, pawprints, mud, ice cream, and frog slime. I can still hear the jingle sung by Leon Redbone, “the stain lifter, that’s a-l-l.“ with its cute verses and iterations that will probably be archived for generations on YouTube. Ironically, all® was known to be without some things throughout its life, so it didn’t quite contain “all”: it was the first sudsless detergent on the market, and in the 1990s it created a form of the detergent that was “free and clear” of dyes or perfumes. But that made all® even more special for those who didn’t want all those extras. If you look on the website at Henkel, the company that now owns all®, you’ll see that if you put it on your grocery list, it would be wrong to capitalize the title. It’s lower-case “a-l-l” with the registered trademark added. Not sure what that lower case “a” choice indicates – it’s probably just a stylistic typeface effect. But maybe the company is trying to be humble. It may recognize that it’s “all” (with a lowercase “a”) when it comes to cleaning clothes, but it’s not “All” (with a capital “a”) when it comes to cleaning up the world.

           And the world does need some cleaning up, so to speak. Problems, predicaments, toils and troubles (along with the soap bubbles), are abundant all around us. We need some kind of something to throw in this great laundry tub we call existence when we attempt to clean it up. So let’s take a look at what the scripture says about what I’ve entitled this sermon: “Having It All.”

           In this short passage from the gospel of Matthew, the word “all” is used three times. Twice is written the exact word, “all,” and the third time the word used is “always”, which contains the meaning of the word “all,” as in “total,” or “entire,” or “complete.” Always. All times, and in all ways. Can’t get much more all-encompassing than that.

           But before we get into the particulars of the “all” that is offered to us on this Trinity Sunday, I want to remind you about the scene in which Jesus declared his commitment to his disciples and to the world. Jesus was on the mountain with his eleven disciples, those left of the original twelve. We know that Judas was no longer with them, having dropped out of the group due to his apparent belief that the word “all” as we will see it here was not adequate enough for his satisfaction. Jesus on the mountain: always and forever a place in the scriptures that symbolizes the intersection between heaven and earth. When we see Jesus on a mountain, we know something important is going to be said.

           The first thing that happened is that the disciples worshiped him. Who would not want to acknowledge and express the wonder and amazement of what had just transpired in recent days? No doubt they were still pinching themselves to make sure they were still awake as they saw Jesus, knowing what they had seen before in his horrible suffering on the cross and his death. But even as they worshiped Jesus, they also doubted. And the sentence does not say, “some doubted.” It says, “they doubted.” Can you relate to this? There had been so many things going on around Jesus, so many signs and wonders, and then so much treachery and struggle and death. A proverbial roller coaster of events, climbing up the hill of mundane, and pleasant, and challenging, and exhilarating, and then over the top and down into terrifying and gut-wrenching, all in a series of days, weeks, months – perhaps years. Wouldn’t you be confused? Uncertain? This was not something the average person saw every day. What were the disciples – all of them, not just the eleven on the mountain – to think? To feel? To believe? To hope for?

           And so in their worship, reverence and delight, they also doubted.

           What makes this notable for its inclusion in this passage is that Jesus still comes to them. He knows of their doubt. And he does not stand before them, point his fingers in accusation at them and proclaim, “All you doubters, shame on you!” He might have good reason to, because there he was, standing right there among them. But we don’t really know that that doubt was about, do we? What did they doubt? Perhaps like us nowadays when we see something questionable on the internet or in photos, we examine it carefully and often say, “That’s fake. That’s AI.” If the entire Jesus story were to happen on earth today, because of our technology and skepticism I am pretty sure there’d be a different outcome. Nowadays, people don’t even believe the unvarnished truth when it’s staring them in the eyes. God would have to reach out to us in an entirely different way. (Who knows? Maybe God’s doing that as we speak!)

           And so they doubted, too, just as they worshiped. Mixed emotions. An unprecedented moment, unlike any other moment the disciples could ever have dreamed or imagined.

           In this moment, Jesus then began to proclaim the totality of his personhood, his relationship with God, his authority as one who had come from and dwelled in and with God, by saying, “ALL authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” All authority! In heaven and on earth! Everywhere! Not just some authority to perform a few nice miracles and say a few profound words, but ALL authority. That’s quite a statement. It’s not said with a lowercase “a”, like the detergent – something that does some pretty amazing things in one area of life in the laundry room. It’s said with an uppercase “A”. All. Stronger than mere dirt, or anything else. Something that relates to this whole world, this whole universe, this entire creation.

           The disciples lived, walked, talked, ate and breathed with the man who had this authority. And by virtue of our trust in him, we do the same. Don’t forget that. We walk with this same authoritative giver of life.

           Then because he had all this authority, he said something that, in essence, passed that authority along. He didn’t say it in this passage, but he said it in so many words elsewhere: “God gives me this authority, and so I give it to you.” This proclamation comes from the Gospel of John, in which Jesus promises that his presence will be with us in the form of the Holy Spirit. He said that what he did, we would do also. Can you wrap your mind around that? I’m not sure I can. I may fit into the doubter category some of the time, but it is something to think about and really hang on to as a believer in the One with Authority.

           As such, he told the disciples, then (in spite of the fact that they doubted), to “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.”

           The disciples could stand there and doubt all they wanted, but now they were given what is called “the Great Commission.” Make disciples. Baptize. Teach. To do such things indeed takes a lot of authority. A lot of confidence. A lot of experience, and a lot of knowledge. The disciples had it, and were going to get a lot more of it in the months and years to come. It was their job to step out and DO it. But I want to point out the word “all” here. He didn’t go out and make disciples of Jews only. Or Greek people only. Or Romans, or Phoenicians, or Egyptians, or Arabians. He said, “ALL nations.” Not just the people who looked like them, spoke like them, had the same habits, beliefs, moral codes, work ethic, or customs as them. All nations. All people.

           Another thing he didn’t say is, “Go out and convert as many people as you possibly can and make them believers so that we can fulfill a quota and make God happy. Convert them and let them go. You will have fulfilled your duty, proclaiming the gospel in every corner of the earth, and God will be satisfied.” As some say, in evangelistic circles, “’Til all have heard.” That is very nice. You can throw flyers out of airplanes the world over in every language and hope people read them. They’ve heard! That’s it! Good for them! All is well. ALL is well.

           Well, all IS well, because I believe that with God we do not live in the tyranny of the urgent, holding on our own shoulders the responsibility for saving every human on this earth. Why? Because I believe God is bigger than that. After all, didn’t Jesus say he had all authority on heaven and on earth? We don’t know how Jesus chooses to reach all people – that is far beyond my scope, though I believe he reaches people in far more amazing ways than we’ll ever imagine.

           But he DID tell us to make disciples, and baptize, and teach them to obey. Those that we bring into the fold, who want to know, to understand, to be baptized, to follow, and to grow, are the ones Jesus calls us to tend to. We’re not here to complete a checklist, we’re here to be shepherds – not just for SOME people who might seem acceptable to us, more like us, think like us, talk like us, live in relationships and have personalities and identities that fit our social mores…but we are to be shepherds to all people. Jesus said so. Well, I guess we’d better get busy.

           And finally, there is the word “always.” “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” I’ll be honest, when I hear the words “to the end of the age” I think…is that always? What does that mean? But what it means to me is that right here, now, this afternoon, tomorrow, next week and beyond, Jesus IS WITH (not just will be with) us. Continually. Totally. Completely. In every way, not just only in some ways, not just part-way, but all the way. How reassuring this is!

           And isn’t this a message we want to talk about to others? Teach them? Baptize them into, make disciples of, and include in our midst? We ourselves, who are available to be Jesus in today’s world, are now commissioned to baptize in the name of God our Creator/Father/Mother; Jesus our Savior/Teacher/Healer; the Holy Spirit our Counselor/Advocate/Wisdom. All aspects of God, all of the power and authority of God, all of the wisdom and resources of God. There really is nothing left out. We often wander around and act like we don’t know what to do or how to do it when it comes to our faith. But God gave us the Holy Spirit, who dwells IN us, and God loves us, and believes we have so much to offer, and wants us to share God’s love in whatever ways we can. Trust this! Embrace this! The best news is this, and don’t you forget it: In Jesus, we really do have it all. Amen.

  • Prayers Ascending

    Sunday, May 17, 2026

    Acts 1:6-14

             So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

            Then they returned to Jerusalem from the Mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a Sabbath day’s journey away. When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying: Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of James. All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.

    Romans 8:26-27

            Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words. And God, who searches hearts, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

    John 17:1-11

            After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.
            “I have made your name known to those whom you gave me from the world. They were yours, and you gave them to me, and they have kept your word. Now they know that everything you have given me is from you, for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you, and they have believed that you sent me. I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours. All mine are yours, and yours are mine, and I have been glorified in them. And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you. Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.”

    The Sermon

    I have belonged to many internet type groups over the years. Once upon a time, when I was working in my second church parish in Wyoming, I used an internet forum called “Ecunet.” In most of the groups, we shared information about common interests and replied to each other’s posts. Sometimes someone would make a prayer request, and another person would reply, “Prayers ascending.” I’ve heard that sentiment expressed many times since then.

           It’s a meaningful image. It makes me think of prayer as like smoke from some kindling or a candle, where the smoke rises and ascends upwards into the sky. (Of course, that’s assuming the wind isn’t blowing and you’re always seated, no matter how many times you move, on the side of the campfire where the wind blows smoke right into your face.) Some people say, “Prayers arising.” Both portray to some extent the image of prayers moving upwards. Which shows us that what when we think of the location of God, to whom we pray, we visualize God being “up there.” “God above,” we say. “God, in the heavens.” “God, the man upstairs.” The gospel lesson says that “Jesus looked up to heaven and said, ‘Father, the hour has come…’”. His looking upward was an act of respect and confidence in his faith in God, though it’s easy to interpret it as affirmation that God, and heaven, are above us, and when we pray, our words rise upward toward God.

           The word “ascending”, or “ascension,” has another meaning that applies today. Last Thursday, the 14th of May, was “Ascension Day.” The passage that was read this morning from the book of Acts briefly describes the event as a time when the disciples gathered, after some conversation during which Jesus told them of the coming of the Holy Spirit. And then with those words spoken, the scripture says that “as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.”

           Now, that would be something to see! Of course, we know that those who’d spent a significant amount of time with Jesus would not be as surprised as we would if someone we were just talking to suddenly rose into the air like a balloon and disappeared into a cloud. They’d already seen Jesus do amazing things, not the least of which was rise from the dead. The story in Acts does not describe their surprise, though it does give an impression that they were a bit mesmerized. “What just happened?” “Where did he go?” “Is he coming back?” And it’s then that angels come to the rescue, snapping them out of their trance, just as angels did at the tomb when the women were standing there wondering where Jesus was after discovering the stone rolled back and the tomb empty.

           And so what did the disciples – the men and women who had gathered together – do after that? They returned to Jerusalem, and ascended the stairs into a room where they were staying, and they prayed. Jesus, their greatest pray-er, their greatest friend and teacher, had just ascended, and now their prayers were ascending right along with him.

           Imagine it: a room, who knows how big, filled with people, praying. They had just gone through the most amazing experience of their lives and were still trying to sort it all out. One thing after another. Jesus teaching, being beloved by so many. Jesus experiencing pushback from the leaders of the faith, then being betrayed by one of their very own among them, then undergoing a trial and a horrendous crucifixion. Jesus dying. Jesus lying in a cold stone tomb. Jesus no longer in the tomb, but appearing to them in all his glory, with evidence on his hands, feet, and torso, proving the ordeal he had recently been through. And now, there he goes…poof! Up into the clouds.

           Yet there were no tears that we know of. We don’t hear of weeping and grieving, even though Jesus was no longer with them. Instead, we hear of them in prayer. It’s as if, in his absence, something was still present among them, binding them together in this shared experience. Who could describe it? The most challenging part was that even though they’d heard and seen all these things with their own eyes, not everyone to whom they told the story would have that luxury.

           And yet, we know, because we are here, that the story had an impact on people who were not present to know the living, walking, resurrected Jesus. And for some, that impact was no doubt just as strong and powerful as it had been for those who experienced it first-hand. Maybe even more so.

           They prayed.

           In our gospel lesson, we see Jesus himself in an intense posture of prayer. A prayer that was prayed in the presence of those same disciples. It wasn’t a personal, secret prayer that Jesus said when he was off on a journey in the wilderness. It was a prayer for the disciples, on their behalf. He said so directly in the prayer. What makes this prayer especially powerful is that Jesus himself had just told the disciples that he and the Father were one; that whatever the Father did, so Jesus did.

           This means that God was praying for the disciples, for the people who loved and surrounded and learned from Jesus, through Jesus himself!

           Which leads me to the Romans 8 passage that I also included as a scripture reading. It says, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words. And God, who searches hearts, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.”

           Here, as was mentioned in last week’s message, about the Advocate Jesus promised to send once he was gone, is the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit spoken of after Pentecost, which we will celebrate next Sunday. The promised coming of Jesus’ presence into the hearts and minds of the disciples and to all those who would believe in Jesus in the millennia to follow. The promised presence of Understanding, of Help, of Advocacy, of Comfort, of Counsel. Not Jesus in the flesh, but God in Spirit, coming into our hearts – yes, not just the disciples’ hearts, but yours and mine and the hearts of all who seek God through understanding and knowing Jesus. Jesus returning to earth by living inside us. Dwelling in us. Inhabiting us. Praying for us, in us, with us, and through us.

           And this is where “prayers ascending” is appropriate and essential and necessary.

           We see Jesus praying. He’s honoring God, and speaking to God, in the presence of all those for whom he is praying, asking God for the things he knows that God wants for them and for all his people.

           We see Jesus’ followers, men and women crowded together in that room, praying, looking to God, speaking to God, in the presence of one another and what sense they had that remained of Jesus, because even though he was no longer visibly with them, they felt him. Through that prayer they felt and expressed him, lived him and breathed him.

           We have the letter to the Romans that speaks of the Spirit, who was sent following Jesus’ ascension – the prayer of God, going to God, coming from God, whose power lit up the church like a magnificent, fiery, beautiful Christmas tree, energizing it from the bottom to the top and the top to the bottom. The Spirit of God, who prays for us when we don’t have the words. The Spirit of God, who knows the heart of God and the will of God, and prays the most magnificent, perfect prayers for us. How nice it is to know that it’s not all on our own shoulders to create beautiful, effective prayers.

           And it is true. So many people wonder how to pray. I am sure I can hunt up a formula or two – some say to use the Lord’s Prayer as a model. But let’s say that we don’t have access to the Lord’s prayer. Let’s say that we are in deep distress, or confusion, or bewilderment, or grief, or fear, or even excitement, ecstasy, and joy. So moved are we that we don’t know what words to say. But we want to say something. We have to say something. Even if it’s just, “Gracious God!”

           It’s then that we remember, and trust in the words that Jesus said, the words that were said in the book of Romans: that the Spirit intercedes on our behalf with groanings too deep for words. We don’t need a formula. God isn’t interested in the correct words. God is groaning and rejoicing and agonizing right along with us, whether we realize it or not.

           Because we are believers, and we know and see Jesus, learn about Jesus, sing, pray, give, shake hands, smile, commune, eat, and ring bells together, we have the Holy Spirit living inside of us. We can say, “Teach me how to pray, O God,” and then say whatever words that are in our hearts, and then we trust. Trust that God will speak the words and desires of our hearts through us, like breath. Breathe in, breathe out. Air goes in, it goes out. Air may change constitution along the way as it nourishes our bodies in the way that it does, but it is an ever-circling, ever-flowing process. We pray. God hears. God enters our hearts and minds as God sends us the fresh oxygen of inspiration, and we pray it out, and it goes to God, and comes back again, and it circulates, recycles, always perfecting itself into better things.

           Maybe we want it to feel like magic. It is, but it is not. It is life, and living, and breath. Prayers are you, asking God to inhabit your thoughts. Prayers are your thoughts going to and coming from God, not only for yourself but for all those with whom you live, work, play, love, and worship.

           We are the disciples, gathered together in this place, praying, through every aspect of our worship. We are praying, and we are waiting for God to move.

           The reality is that God has moved, is moving, and will continue to move. We trust, we allow, and we move, too.

           On Pentecost, we will celebrate the day when God’s presence became known in a very powerful way. Whether or not we experience that power in that amazing way is up to God. But we know that this is the essence of prayer: God breathing us as we breathe God. Let us think of this today, and go into this week asking God to help us to be joyfully aware of this presence, this reality, asking God to show us in small and gentle, or large and specific ways, just how present God is with us. God prays for us right now. God loves us so much that we are all God thinks about, that’s how devoted God is to us.

           And it’s because of Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, and what we’ve learned in the Scriptures and in our faith among our brothers and sisters, that we know this and will continue to live from this day forward. Go and breathe God’s spirit, and live in prayer and joy. Amen.

  • Abandonment Is Not an Option

    Sunday, May 10, 2026 — MOTHER’S DAY

    John 14:15-21

            “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him because he abides with you, and he will be in you.

            “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me, and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.”

    The Sermon

            In God’s world, abandonment is not an option.

           Yet unbeknownst to his disciples, Jesus will soon be leaving. He has spent the last many months, of his life, living and walking, talking, eating, drinking, traveling, ministering, caring, comforting, counseling, healing, teaching, and helping this crew of men and women who have followed him with such earnestness and care.

           But he knows that he will not be with them much longer. And so he prepares them for what is to come.

           So much of what Jesus says about his life with his disciples and his life on this earth is like words spoken about relationships, especially family. We know these days that such relationships can be defined in myriad ways, what with families comprised of single parents, parents of the same gender, grandparents serving in a parental role for their grandchildren, children serving as parents to their own parents. We know there are children and adults who are uncertain even about the gender they’ve been referred to from birth, and have serious questions about that. What does this all mean in the great scheme of life and family these days?

           And we know, too, that today is Mother’s Day. In my own lifetime, I’ve seen the evolving role of the mother in our world, and that evolution hasn’t stopped. There is far more to the role of being a mother than just giving birth to a child in respect to genetics. Some people can be more mother-like to a child than the child’s own mother. Some mothers may seek to relinquish control over their children out of their desire to be a good mother. We still tend to respect, and rightly should, the role of the mother in our world, whether she give birth to children, or whether that person lives and operates in such a role of nurture, of grace, of comfort, and of care. Being a mother means a lot of things, and in our day and age, it benefits us to open our hearts and minds and release our judgments about what it really means to be a good mother. The same is true for fathers, children, any kind of relative, any kind of relationship. When we release expectations, we find grace and mercy.

           And most of all, we find that thing Jesus speaks about five times in our gospel lesson for today: love. Love, in relationship to him. Love, in relationship to his disciples. Love, in relationship to God, whom Jesus calls his “Father.” Love in relationship to others. Love, which, when lived and expressed from the depths of respect, wisdom, and understanding, leads to obedience to commandments. Jesus speaks of his commandments. They are not given willy-nilly for the sake of control a la “Do what I tell you, or else.” Jesus, in other parts of the gospel, speaks of loving God and loving others as oneself as the fulfillment of the law. The law is about love, comes from love, and ends in love. The commandments are obeyed because of love, because in so doing, it is the most loving thing a person can do.

           Admittedly, this isn’t always easy.

           But as Jesus anticipates his absence from the world, he also anticipates a way in which he still remains present with all those he loves.

           He is like a loving mother who makes plans for when she is away, providing someone to care for her children, trusting that care will be as loving as her very own care. He does not leave his disciples orphaned, and because of it, he is now with us. That’s why we, too, are his disciples.

           How does he do this? The disciples don’t yet understand, but they soon will. He promises to send the divine paraclete – the Advocate, also translated as the Counselor, the Helper, the Comforter. The Holy Spirit is the name we call the Divine paraclete. We don’t talk about the Spirit often, but we will today, and we will again. We might go so far as to say, if we use our imaginations, that the Holy Spirit can be seen as the “Mother” aspect of our Triune God, if we are going to see “the Father” of whom Jesus spoke so often as the masculine aspect. Why not expand one’s view of the magnificent, all-encompassing nature of our Creator, who made all of us, women and men and beings alike, in God’s image? I see no reason not to.

           And like many of our best mothers and mother-like figures in our lives (which can and do include men), the nature of the Spirit is one of counselor, offering advice, wisdom, and a listening ear. The Spirit also acts as advocate. One of my commentary writers offers Michael Connelly’s Lincoln Lawyer Mickey Haller as an example of an advocate: one who works on behalf of someone else who has been accused of wrongdoing. Moms can make the best advocates when we need them, and sometimes they can even do it when we’re guilty – not by helping us to get off scot-free, but by loving us through the turmoil and consequences of our mistakes. The Spirit is our helper. Thinking back on the idea of adherence to commandments, we certainly can use some help, for there are times when the very last thing on earth we want to do is “love our neighbor.” We covet, wanting more than we really need, at someone else’s expense. We wish ill upon people we don’t like. You know what that’s like, and so do I. We need a helper to inspire us to act out of justice and love. And we need a comforter, not only as children but as grown adults with problems in life, with things to rage and cry and moan about. Moms can be good at this. The Holy Spirit – the paraclete is also known as the comforter.

           How we need this.

           And how family-like this is! We don’t have to have a typical family in the classical sense, to reach toward God, outward, upward, AND inward into our hearts, to find the Divine family of love: Father, Child, Mother; Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer. Father, Son, Holy Spirit.

           This was Jesus’ promise. Jesus was not on his own as he worked, lived, and traveled on this earth. He did the things his Father told him to do. As we learned last Sunday, if we want to know what God is doing; what God is like, look no further than at Jesus. He’s right before our very eyes, and words about his life were written so that we would know him. There’s a lot to be known – even beyond the gospels we read so frequently.

           But there’s something more. Jesus knew that he would be leaving, and yet he promised to always be present. And thus, as he said, he would send another “advocate” to be with them forever. Jesus would be gone, but the Holy Spirit, the paraclete, the Advocate, the Comforter, the Counselor, the Helper, would come to be with us. And that is precisely what happened. It is through the Holy Spirit that we know and understand this story about Jesus. Where is this Spirit? In us.

           Last week in Small Talk I mentioned how to know God is to look at and see and understand Jesus. One parishioner suggested I remind the children that Jesus is in our hearts. Yes, indeed: Jesus is in our hearts. Jesus sent the Advocate to be the presence of God, the presence of the Father, the Presence of Jesus, in our hearts. We invite Jesus to make himself known to us in our hearts through the Holy Spirit. We can see the Holy Spirit as a loving Father, as our savior Jesus who gave his life for us, and as a loving Mother/counselor/comforter, who will never, ever abandon us. Remember, in God, abandonment is not an option. Ever. “What’s abandonment?” God says. No such thing.

           The Spirit of Christ, of God, of Jesus, in our hearts. Moving in us like the very best mothers and fathers and teachers, court advocates for our defense, therapists, advisors, shepherds, idea-givers, creativity-inspirers, tear-dryers. Shopping assistants. Tutors. Cooks, bakers, candlestick makers. Carpenters, electricians. Math whizzes and calculators. You name it, God, in the Holy Spirit, is IN US, helps us to understand, to live, and to fulfill the law because of LOVE.

           It all starts and it all ends with love.

           We Presbyterians don’t talk a lot about the Holy Spirit, the paraclete, the Advocate. The Spirit is rather implied. For when we know one: God, Jesus, the Spirit, we know all. But could it be possible that we might not know a thing about Jesus and his life, death and resurrection, were it not for the Holy Spirit? The promise that Jesus would send us the Helper? We might wonder. It takes a lot for a story about a man living in the middle east who died on a cross and had a small band of followers to expand, explode, and become one of the world’s major figures of faith! To this we credit the Holy Spirit who did just as was promised: filled the disciples and Christians from that day and beyond with an understanding and power that went beyond the repeated telling of a story. This Holy Spirit gave Jesus the power to do what he did on earth. To love people, heal them, teach them, and feed them. To teach about justice and love of one’s neighbor. To bind up the brokenhearted. To include the outcast and break boundaries. To bring light into lives that were very dark indeed.

           So it should be no surprise to us that we know this story. We actually take this for granted, don’t we? But then, let’s think for a moment about our prayers and our worship – our singing, our fellowship, our laughter, our coffee, our service, our camaraderie, our generosity, our concern and love for our community. This all happens because God dwells in us. Our ability to fulfill our mission, God’s calling among us, is because the Holy Spirit is in us. Whatever God does, whatever Jesus does, is what the Holy Spirit does. You, my friends, are currently empowered by the Holy Spirit, and don’t you forget it! Imagine it! Live in it. Dwell in it. Remember it. Allow that power, that wisdom, that counsel, that comfort, that help, that advocacy, to guide you every day, just as you have been up to this point.

           On this Mother’s Day, thank God for God’s mothering, loving, strong, unwilling-to-ever-abandon-you Holy Spirit. Let the Spirit’s power fall upon us and fill us once again, and in a very new and powerful way, today. May God remind us of all that we are capable of doing by that power that is in each one of us and in one another, and in the power of that unity, may we change the world! Amen.  

  • Right Before Our Very Eyes

    Sunday, May 3, 2026

    John 14:1-14

             “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”

            Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own, but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, but if you do not, then believe because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”

    The Sermon

    Sometimes life hits you with surprises. Unexpected stuff. Songs are written about experiences like this. There’s a song by the rock group Chicago called “Baby, What a Big Surprise”, in which the lyrics speak about a man meeting a woman and thinking that she was faking it, until he realized that she really did love him, “right before my very eyes.”

            Other song titles like this are, “Right in Front of Me” and “Standing Right in Front of You.” The implications are that sometimes we are blind to things as we roll along in life, and all of a sudden something monumental happens, and there it is, standing right in front of us. In some cases, it might have just appeared; in other cases, it might have been there for a long time, or maybe all the way along, but we have just now noticed it.

            And as I think about it right now, I believe my Christian faith has been like that. Let me share with you a bit of my own personal story. I grew up going to church. Every Sunday, without fail, if the family was traveling, we’d find a church to attend somewhere else. When our church took two Sundays off for vacation, probably for the pastor, my family didn’t get a vacation from church. We went elsewhere then, too. Fern Cliff Evangelical Free Church. The Reformed Presbyterian Church. Those are the ones I remember. I’m sure there were others.

            So if anyone should ever think I lacked in religious education before graduating from high school, they would be sorely mistaken. The idea of not attending church was a very odd thing, and apparently for my dad in particular, it was simply not an option. I’m sure that sick members of my family didn’t go to church, but I expect that was pretty much the only excuse.

            And so, I learned Bible lessons and listened (as best I could) to sermons and went to a Pioneers class, church camp, and youth group, with plenty of exposure to the Bible and the stories of Jesus.

            And yet it seemed that there came a day when, “right before my very eyes,” I had a new understanding of what the story of Jesus meant, and changed the way I saw life. Even to this day, it still manages to change and evolve over time. I have become less dogmatic and insistent about the message that I believed in early on. I’ve softened in many ways and also gathered up more conviction in others. I believe that’s the way it should be. All that growth and change and questioning has included a great deal of angst as well as joy. Needless to say, after all those years of hearing the same story again and again, it seemed to come, and still comes, to life for me in a new way, “right before my very eyes.”

            I suppose that’s the way it was for Jesus’ disciples and his followers. Just when they thought they understood something, Jesus said something new, performed a miracle, did something utterly confounding and confusing, and lo and behold, “right before their very eyes,” something new arose. A new facet of Jesus. A new truth about the faith the people had been living. A new way of looking at some very ancient scripture. A new interpretation of some very old prophecy. A new revelation about some very familiar and ancient history.

            Imagine what it was like to have Jesus, “right before their very eyes” do the things he did, say the things he said, and watch him make his way to the cross, die, and be resurrected. Now, that’d be something to see.

            But I’m getting ahead of things when I speak of Jesus’ death and resurrection. As we enter our Scripture text from the gospel of John we find Jesus beginning a lengthy discourse that starts just following the departure of Judas from the table at the last supper, having committed to his scheme of betrayal. Also just prior to this, Jesus predicts to Simon Peter that he will soon deny Jesus three times before the rooster crows.

            At this point, the disciples have no clue what is about to happen. But then, that is probably somewhat normal for them, with all of the amazing things Jesus has done and said, and all the things that have happened around them. To them, it’s as “business as usual” as business could ever be with life around their Teacher. But their Teacher knows what’s coming down the pike, and so he proceeds to teach and advise, again. And in the beginning of this text, he begins with words designed to comfort. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.”

            Why would our hearts be troubled, the disciples might wonder. “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.”

            Well, of course it’s no surprise that Thomas declares aloud, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going! How can we know the way?”

            In my mind, I think of him at this point saying, “Lord, what are you talking about? You’re right here! You aren’t going anywhere, and if you’re going somewhere, you’re going to have to tell us how to get there.”

            Oh, the joy of experiencing the so-called “cryptic” Jesus, speaking of things so difficult for the mind to grasp in their current reality as they sit in a room just having shared some bread and wine and having had their feet washed – one of the more incredible, loving expressions of Jesus’ love for them. And now he’s talking about going somewhere? Please, no. This is all too good. It can’t get any better. And now what?

            And to Thomas’s question comes Jesus’s reply: “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”

            He does not say, “Walk up here to the corner of Olive and Sycamore, turn left, then head toward Water Well Road.” Of course, what did they expect? Once again, Jesus turns something everyday into a lesson.

            Philip tries a new tack. “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Please. Give us a sign. Something we can see with our very eyes. I mean, we just haven’t had enough instruction, enough miracles. You’ve pulled a new rabbit out of your hat, so let us see it.

            And there it is, the sweet, deep breath of a Jesus sigh. “Oh Philip, oh my friends, have I been with you all this time, and you still do not know me?”

            Of course we know you, Jesus…right? Yes? We should, anyway….

            “How can you say, ‘show me the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me?” Jesus asks.

            The who what? That One to whom Jesus prays often, as if he were a  beloved, intimate, trusting child? That One from whom the disciples feel a bit alienated, distant, a genealogical father of ancestral origin, the One who created Adam and Eve and the progeny who followed, out of whom came Abraham and the twelve tribes of Israel, David, the covenants, the prophetic promises. Jesus’ prayers, though, to this Father seem more intimate and personal than conversations with a great creator of generations.

            The Father, this Father, is in Jesus, he claims, saying, “The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own, but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, but if you do not, then believe because of the works themselves.”

            Who among them had ever known anyone who claimed to be so intimately connected to the Father, the Creator, the origin of the cosmos? And in such a seemingly easy, natural way? Sitting right there in front of them, having broken bread, poured wine, and wiped their smelly feet? How could this be? Unfathomable.

            But as if to add the proverbial insult to injury, though in truth, it would not be insult or injury at all, Jesus says, “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”

            There might have been silence here. We don’t really know. But imagine what the disciples might be thinking. Mouths agape, heads tilted, heads scratched. Jesus, the way, the truth, the life, going to the Father, then somehow enabling this motley crew of people to do the things Jesus has done and ask for whatever they wanted in his name?

            There he was, right before their very eyes, saying these things. There the words were, the promises, the comfort, the assurance, the plans. All such a mystery. But there they were, drinking in his words, because what else could they do? Why all this talk of going somewhere? He is right here, right now!

            But I suppose a knot of dread was forming in their stomachs already at the strange departure of Judas, who we might wonder had already begun to behave in mysteriously treacherous ways, and with Jesus’ prediction of Peter’s future denials within the following hours.

            The reality is, my friends, that the disciples who were seated there at that moment, so doting, so earnest, and so curious, had not yet really seen what was before their very eyes, yet.

            We are reading and listening to the gospel writer’s account of what transpired that night, written decades after it happened, yet as if he were sitting right there, next to Jesus, who was pouring his heart into the very heart of the listeners. Listeners and readers, by the way, including us. Because if it weren’t for those storytellers, witnesses and writers, we would not have these words today.

            And what they didn’t realize at the moment, but did later, as we discover now that the gospels have been written, preserved, translated, paraphrased and interpreted to us, is that the Father, the Creator, was sitting right there among them. Right before their very eyes. In Jesus. In Jesus’ words, in his miracles, his every teaching, his foot-washing, his wine-sharing, his healings, his loving, and the power of his touch. God, the Father, Mother Creator, Originator, and Lover of All Humankind and everything created, was there. Right before their very eyes.

            But it’s this last part that we tend to look at as a sort of add-on. A further mystery – because in some ways, yes, it still seems to be a mystery: the part where Jesus claims that “you” – meaning in that context, the disciples, but in this context also, YOU and ME – everyone here, “will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”

            OK, so we might think, “What a privilege it was to be a disciple! They got to sit before Jesus, see him face-to-face, observe his works, hear his words, and experience him in full, living color.” And if the Father was in Jesus, then they were looking, perhaps unbeknownst to themselves, AT the Father they so desperately wanted to see to be satisfied.

            But the thing is, through this scripture and the stories we read and the prayers we pray, the creeds we profess and the work that we do in this church, we, too, are doing what the disciples were told to do: “Believe in God, believe also in me.” “I will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also.” Where is the way? Jesus said, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.” Right there in living color, right before our very eyes. Our belief in Jesus is our way to “see the Father,” in whatever way you might want to label our wonderful, adoring Creator God. Our Mother,  our Teacher, Helper, Sustainer, Uplifter, Hope-Giver, Healer, Absolute Lover God. If you want to know who God is, look at Jesus. Study Jesus. Speak to Jesus. Be his disciple. Sit at his feet. He wants you to know him, and to know God.

            And then remember this: that right before the disciples’ very eyes, Jesus told them that they would do the wonderful things he did, and greater ones, indeed. That they could ask for things in Jesus’ name, and he would do them. This is a bit of a mystery, we know. It’s not a magic formula, because we pray often for things and say, “In Jesus’ name, amen,” and perhaps those prayers don’t seem to be magically answered the way we wanted them to. That is something to explore and ponder. It doesn’t stop me from asking for things in Jesus’ name. It encourages me to ask in that way, because it gives me the reassurance that he knows, ultimately, what is the most beautiful and best way to answer. And in asking, I trust that God will show me the beautiful way to pray in Jesus’ name, and the beautiful way to accept an answer that I may not yet understand.

            The disciples certainly didn’t understand all that yet. They would, in time, and those lessons came to us. Aren’t you glad?

            So consider this one final thing: that “right before our very eyes,” through the power of the Holy Spirit that God sent to the earth once Jesus ascended to heaven and was no longer physically present on this earth, we have Jesus IN US. God, the Father, Creator, Mother, Lover, Nourisher, IN US. We see, we believe, we pray. And thus we have, and know. Right before our very eyes.

            And furthermore, as we look at EACH OTHER in this place, serving one another and the world in our lives, praying for each other in Jesus’ name, reaching out and caring, thinking, working our tasks for this church and in this world, we see, right before our very eyes, God, through our faith in Jesus, present in this world, working in us and through us and all around us. It’s here. Right here. Right now. At the pulpit, in the communion bread and juice, in the servers, in the people with whom you share the bread. In the songs, in the prayers, in the hugs and bells and candle-lighting. In our light, through Jesus, that we take out into the world, praying God will be present and made more and more visible, the more we live and love and pray in Jesus’ name.         It’s right here. God is here. Right before our very eyes. Let us rejoice, and live fully and joyfully in Jesus, and in him, know and love God and be God’s light

  • The Mark of a True Shepherd – April 26, 2026

    Psalm 23

            The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

                    He makes me lie down in green pastures;

            he leads me beside still waters;

                    he restores my soul.

            He leads me in right paths

                    for his name’s sake.

            Even though I walk through the darkest valley,

                    I fear no evil,

            for you are with me;

                    your rod and your staff,

                    they comfort me.

    You prepare a table before me

    in the presence of my enemies;

    you anoint my head with oil;

                    my cup overflows.

            Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

                    all the days of my life,

            and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

                    my whole life long.

    John 10:1-10

            “Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.

            So again Jesus said, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and bandits, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

    In some places, today is called “Christ the Good Shepherd Sunday.” What a comforting image, that of shepherd: one that is so desperately needed in a world full of people who find satisfaction in leading and some who find security in following, with all of us finding security in a bit of both.

            But shepherding has a special connotation. We hear of herding. This is different from shepherding. Not many of us, in the church or elsewhere, like to be herded, unless absolutely necessary. We don’t like being driven from behind and beside by someone or something; forced to go where we don’t want to go against our will. We welcome the more wholistic action of shepherding, in which our guidance and care comes from being led from the front, from being invited, encouraged, even enticed.

            And there’s a difference between the one who herds a flock and one who shepherds it. The one who herds uses pressure from behind, almost behaving in relationship to the flock as prey: you move, or something bad will happen to you. The shepherd, however, establishes a relationship of trust that helps attract followers as they learn that their leader is concerned about their welfare; how they are fed, watered, and the safety and comfort in which they live.

            The one doing the plain herding just wants the flock to get there, come what may. My best experience with this sort of thing happened when I was a child and it came time to ring hogs. Just in case you don’t know what ringing hogs is, I’ll explain. Here’s what Google AI says about rooting hogs. “Hogs root up the ground primarily to search for food, using their strong snouts to dig for grubs, worms, roots, tubers, and acorns. This natural foraging behavior also serves to create cooling mud wallows in hot weather, explore their environment, and satisfy their instinctual curiosity, often digging 2 to 8 inches deep.”

            Farmers hate it when pasture hogs do a lot of rooting, because they’d rather the hogs just graze the grass like sheep do. Rooting hogs ruin the land. Worst of all, they very happily dig their way underneath fencelines using their rooting behavior and get out into places they’re not supposed to go! Thus, the necessity of ringing hogs. This involves the vertical insertion of a wire ring into the top of the snout. It sounds painful, and it is. The discomfort keeps hogs from rooting in the mud with their snouts. But to get rings into their noses requires chasing the hogs into a pen and fenced-in area that funnels them into a box. Corn entices them at the far end of the box, but before the hog gets to the food, a door is closed against their snouts, and the farmer quickly uses a plier-like device to quickly insert the ring on the top of the pig’s nose. There’s a lot of squealing and squalling and thrashing in that box until the ring is finally set in the nose, the door is open, and the pig runs out with a loud snort of relief. For each hog, it’s a quick process, but for the farmer and cohorts like me, it involves chasing and whooping and hollering and running across ruts and mounds to chase the animals in the direction you want them to go. Trails of corn help. But there are always, always, always those most stubborn critters who manage to evade the process. Many choice words are said before they finally get their snouts slammed into the chute. Not a hard a slam, mind you – but firm enough, and you have to watch out that the chute door is adjusted so as to not let the hog run right on through. They’re pretty wily creatures, those hogs are. The older they get, the more rings there are in the nose, as the snouts eventually grow over the edges of the old rings, and some do fall out.

            But then there is the shepherd. A shepherd doesn’t need to ring the noses of the lambs, though we know that sheep are shorn from time to time. A different procedure. Maybe a little tense and confining, but possibly even pleasant at the relief from the burden of all that wool on the skin. There’s one thing I especially like about the shepherd, that guide, that good leader. It’s based on what Jesus said in the text about the gatekeeper – which seems to me to be, in some ways, a combination of the shepherd himself and the one who watches the gate. He says, “The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.”

            This sermon is titled, “The Mark of a Good Shepherd.” This suggests, then, than there can be bad shepherds, which would make a person wonder if they could be called shepherds at all. Call them herders, wranglers, drovers, cowpunchers, or buckaroos, but maybe don’t call them shepherds. (Not that wranglers and others are all bad.)

            In Greco-Roman literature, writers such as Homer, Plato, and Aristotle depict political rulers as shepherds. The entire book of Ezekiel is an entire essay devoted to God’s commentary about “the shepherds of Israel,” and how their actions as God’s appointed leaders were NOT pleasing to God at all. Here’s what Ezekiel claims God’s words were in regard to those so-called shepherds of Israel: “Woe to you shepherds of Israel who only take care of yourselves! Should not shepherds take care of the flock? You eat the curds, clothe yourselves with the wool and slaughter the choice animals, but you do not take care of the flock. You have not strengthened the weak or healed the sick or bound up the injured. You have not brought back the strays or searched for the lost. You have ruled them harshly and brutally. So they were scattered because there was no shepherd, and when they were scattered they became food for all the wild animals. My sheep wandered over all the mountains and on every high hill. They were scattered over the whole earth, and no one searched or looked for them.”

            Can you honestly say in respect to the many rulers and leaders you’ve known of throughout history, that if you thought of a label for political or religious leaders, would you have ever considered using the term, “shepherd?”

            Probably not in the way the word “shepherd” applies to the actual people who tend sheep in the hills and valleys of their lands. And especially not in the way we are encouraged and taught to think of Jesus, or own Good Shepherd.

            When I reflect on the familiarity of Jesus’ voice as one who guides us in our faith and life, I think of this kind of scenario: I’m in a large room, crowded with people, some I know and many I don’t know. It’s a strange place, and I’m ill at ease. I’m nervous, feeling alone among strangers, who seem so busy chatting with the people they know. I stand with my arms wrapped around myself, eyes darting to and fro, trying to decide whether to find a quiet bench at the edge of the crowd, or maybe even a breath of fresh air outdoors. And then I hear it: the voice of my mom, calling my name. Oh, the relief! You can’t miss that voice anywhere! Mom is here! I’m not alone. And there she stands, off in a short distance, a smile on her face, a warm greeting of welcome as she walks my way.

            It’s like tiny babies whose faces turn at the sound of their mother’s voice, and maybe even smile.

            It’s a sensation of warmth inside. Of relief. Of relaxation. Of safety. Of confidence.

            And that, I pray, is your feeling, and your experience, as well as my feeling and my experience, as we live our lives as Christians in this world, when we think of Jesus as our Good Shepherd. That warm voice of love, who is calling our name, and when we hear it our hearts swell with the peace, joy and comfort of the knowledge of his utter love. His deep desire to guide us into right paths, into places in which our needs are met, our ills are healed, or insecurities soothed, our questions heard, our insecurities are held in safe hands, even if we don’t have all the answers.

            Jesus, our shepherd, our gatekeeper, who welcomes us in and allows us to go out, always watching, willing and trusting in our safety. He does not wrangle or coerce us to move, running behind us, nipping at us with bared teeth though we might need it! There is always utter love there. Firm love. Love that admires us, takes pride in us, and feels our sorrows and struggles as we negotiate this great pasture we call life.

            But we have heard of the sheep who managed to find their way into the fold who are indeed thieves and bandits. How do they get here? Who might they be?

            We can speculate, and we get some clues from the Ezekiel passage. So-called shepherds, who purport to have the authority of God on their side as they seek to lead, though one might imagine them in the dog-tooth herding mode. Deceitful shepherds, perhaps wolves in sheep’s clothing, whose intent it is to fool the sheep, but instead plunder and eat the sheep’s food; clothe themselves in wool, benefit from the fruit of the sheep’s labor; guiding the sheep into lost crevices, onto rocky hills, and into deep, tangled, thorny underbrush. Not a care about the actual welfare of the sheep, just a care about their own benefit, their own wealth, their own power, their own advantage. Not a care for the sick or the weak or for those at a disadvantage, but only for those with the kind of strength that can empower the shepherd’s own selfish wants.

            Where, in our world, do we see this sort of so-called shepherding going on? In my opinion, we don’t have to look far. We see those who claim to know our own Good Shepherd, Jesus, using his kind and strong name to entice the lambs. Like the kernels of corn on the path toward the hog-ringing pen, bringing them along with dribs and drabs of Bible verses and utterances of the name of the Lord, using fake Bible verses and real ones to justify ill treatment and exclusion of others, using the Word of God to justify wars that may not have holy purposes whatsoever. Wars that, inside and behind them, are fought only for power, for wealth, for prestige, for pride, for protection, for deceit. Not for the welfare of the lambs who live in their lands, who depend on the shepherd for kind and virtuous guidance. Not voices that, when heard, speak words of comfort and familiarity and true, utter love for the welfare of even the tiniest, most helpless lamb.

            These are not the mark of a good shepherd.

            But inside our hearts and minds, as we pray daily and live our lives, and reach out in our souls for the love of God, we have access to the voice of Jesus, our good and loving Shepherd. When we hear his voice, we hear love. We hear comfort. We hear a beckoning, and it is a voice that leads us to want to be near him, like a magnet, or a warm, soothing breeze. A voice that doesn’t speak of riches and power and control and retaliation. A voice that holds no grudges against others and seeks no retribution. A voice that opens his arms to the lowliest and neediest, as well as the mighty, and regards each one of them, and us, as utterly precious and equal in value, regardless of physical qualities, inclinations, heritage, oddities, quirks, weaknesses. A welcome, warm voice of love. Not a haughty snobbish ruler who lives in high social clubs surrounded by all the wealth a person could ever imagine. Where is the warmth, the comfort, and the love in places like that?

            And so even if there are some who have come in by another entrance, and claim to be a part of Jesus’ flock, but live in selfishness and deceptive kindness, only to bring the most innocent of the flock to ruin, all for the sake of their own enrichment, they will be seen, and recognized, and have their time of reckoning before God. For are they truly happy? Do they truly know the peace and comfort that comes from hearing the real voice of the Good Shepherd who brings the peace that passes all understanding and leads into sweet, green pastures, by still waters?

            This is their lack, and their loss. For us, it is our peace, our wealth, our gain. Knowing our shepherd will never abandon us, ever, with his rod and his staff, and his comfort. The One whose voice we know, is so familiar, and is only a sweet, warm, comforting heartbeat away. That is Jesus. He bears the mark of a good shepherd, and he is our good shepherd, so full of love. What a blessing it is to follow him! May we pray that the love we know, as his sheep, be such a love that leads others to likewise want to follow.

            And may God grant us the wisdom and discernment to see the bad shepherds, the deceptive sheep, the ones who claim to have our best interests at heart, but as we look at their fruit and we listen for comfort in their words, we find emptiness, doubt, and loss.

            May we, the followers of this Good Shepherd, Jesus, live our lives in such a way that we advocate and care for one another, for the lowest and poorest among us on this earth, those who are hurting and in need, those who are friendless, strange, foreigners, lost, and alone. Jesus is our eternal shepherd, indeed, and for this we are comforted. Let us be empowered by him to be a part of this flock on this earth, now, as friends and neighbors of all. Let us be comforted, invited, and delighted to be a part of his fold this day, so that for this we may say a grateful “Thanks be to God.” Amen.