Thirst and Mystery
I focused on the first and last verse of this passage. Water is such a great image to think of many things, including that feeling when you are thirsty, and you can’t think of anything else except water. I have offered a water you can’t drink but always reminds me of God’s love when I see it. It is a painting of the sun setting into the ocean. It’s an image that reminds me of God every time I see it.
“Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters.”
To end the passage, I have painted something that always reminds me of how intricate God’s creation is, we may never understand it, but we also feel like God knows some things we don’t. Look at how a forest is woven together. We can walk through it and feel its beauty without understanding how it all works together to sustain life. It is a mystery to us but we enjoy it ever the same.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
God,
Let us remember to come to you when we are thirsty and to trust the mystery of you when we are unsure.
Amen
Scotia Andersen
Transformed by the Light
A few things stand out to me in this passage. First, Moses and Elijah appear with Jesus, speaking of his departure and the fulfillment he brings. Jesus replaces the old Law and the need for prophet, the long-awaited prophecy has been fulfilled! The good news of Jesus fulfilling the Law and the Prophets confirms that he is indeed the one we have been waiting for, connecting us to God for all eternity. Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection show that we have everything we need in our Triune God. During Lent, we remember that Jesus is the fulfillment of all God’s promises, and through him, we receive grace and new life. Just as Jesus was transfigured before his friends, we too are transformed when we enter into this story.
Next, I am reminded of when Jesus was first baptized and God said, “This is my Son, whom I love.” Over and over, we are reminded of how much love God has for his Son, and through Jesus, for us as well. We are deeply loved, and because of this, we can stop chasing things that define our worth by worldly standards, things that ultimately pull us away from God. During Lent, we reflect on what these things might be and strive to live in a new way, drawing ever closer to God and setting aside the distractions that keep us from him.
Finally, this passage begins on a cliffhanger! What did Jesus say right before this? He said, "Truly I tell you, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the kingdom of God.” On this day, John, Peter, and James caught a glimpse of the kingdom with Elijah the prophet, Moses the lawmaker, and Jesus the Savior of the world reconciled for a brief moment. And Jesus turned into pure light. Let us follow the light; light that illuminates all truth, light that can never be quenched.
Loving God,
We ask that you transform us during this Lenten season. We come to you, hoping to see a glimpse of your kingdom. And we do see it! We see the light as Jesus illuminates all and chases away the darkness. Let this light radiate from us as well as we live to glorify God.
In loving thanksgiving,
Amen
Robin Anderson
Stand Firm
Let us join together in the word of the Lord. We stand with joined hands and seek to bring light and joy into the world. And yet, our world contains multitudes, and many perspectives run in opposition to our own. There are many who use their fear of what they do not understand to destroy the lives and freedoms of others, and to tear down the fabric holding our society together. We weep over the darkness in their hearts and mourn the pain wrought by their hands. But we will rise, and they will falter. Their end is destruction, their glory is in their shame. There is no way for them to win, only new ways for them to fail. Stand firm, my beloveds, stand firm in the Lord and He will lend us His strength. The battle may be long but will not be lost. Love and joy and freedom will endure, so long as we claim them wholeheartedly. So long as we stand together and love the Lord our God with all our hearts and with all our souls and with all our minds and all our strengths, we will not break. Indeed, we will flourish.
Oh Lord, our God. Walk with us through these frightening and uncertain times. Help us to remember that we are not alone, that we live in your world. Remind us of our calling to celebrate your presence, to live with respect in creation, to love and serve others, to seek justice and resist evil, and to proclaim Jesus as our judge and our hope. Help us to stand firm with courage against those who seek to tear us down. Lead us not into despair, but into righteous resistance. For yours is the kingdom, the power, and the glory. Amen.
Court Reynolds
Like a Mother Hen
This is a picture I drew of a hen protecting her little chicks. I like that Jesus has a mission and that he wants to gather and protect his people and is sad when his people turn him away.
Here are some things I learned about mother hens:
Fierce Defenders- A mother hen (also called a broody hen) will puff up her feathers, spread her wings, and even peck or attack if she feels her chicks are threatened.
Hiding Spot- When faced with danger, a hen will gather her chicks under her wings to hide them, keeping them warm and safe from predators.
Nighttime Protection- At night, she gathers her chicks under her body to keep them warm and shield them from cold temperatures and nighttime predators.
Fighting Off Larger Threats- Even though hens are small, they have been known to chase off snakes, hawks, and even dogs to protect their chicks.
Constant Watchfulness- A mother hen is always on alert. She rarely sleeps deeply when her chicks are young, staying ready to defend them at any moment.
Dear God,
You send us such good examples from nature so we can understand how much Jesus loves us. Amen
Alba Andersen
Faithful to His Promise
In Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18, we witness a powerful moment in the life of Abram as God makes a covenant with him, promising him descendants as numerous as the stars, even though Abram is childless and uncertain about how God's promise will be fulfilled. Abram's initial doubt and God's response remind us of the human tendency to question God's plans when they seem improbable or unclear. However, God's faithfulness is evident in the covenant He establishes with Abram, symbolized by the ritual of the sacrificed animals. This act demonstrates God's commitment to keeping His promises, even when the path forward is uncertain.
The passage invites reflection on God's faithfulness in our own lives. Just as Abram had to trust in God's promises when common sense suggested otherwise, we too are called to trust in God's timing and provision. God's covenant with Abram points forward to a deeper relationship between God and His people, ultimately fulfilled in Christ. This story encourages us to rely on God's word, even when we cannot see the full picture, trusting that He will always remain faithful to His promises.
Eternal and Living God, You are faithful beyond our understanding. Help us to rest in the knowing that Your promises to us will be fulfilled in Your time and Your way. Amen
Kirsten Bowles
Jesus and the Devil
The Gospel of Luke is a bit of a hodgepodge. We have the birth of Jesus, his baptism by John, all recounted in Matthew as well, and then, the Devil. Not a frequent character in the biblical narrative, but much described in Christian literature for centuries after.
Anyway, the Devil. After his baptism, Jesus is taken on a magic carpet ride. Just back from the Jordan river and his baptism, filled with the Holy Spirit, and before he begins his ministry, he’s starving in the desert. Forty days with no food. Probably pretty stressed, so when the Devil suggests turning a rock into bread, it had to have been a serious test. Why not just do the magic and get something to eat?
First of all, the story makes it clear to us uninitiated proto-Christians that Jesus is not a circus act. He is not here for tricks. He stands in for God the all-powerful, and when amazing things happen, no doubt we are intended to understand that these are just tiny slices of what Got can do.
The other question is all about the Devil. He obviously sees Jesus as the main event, the new manifestation of things that need to get knocked down quickly before this rabbi develops a following. Better to discredit Jesus immediately.
It didn’t work. The Devil offers Jesus the allegiance of all the kingdoms, and then a chance to show off by flying from the tower of the temple. As expected, Jesus has his mind elsewhere. The Devil is a distraction, not part of the plan. Jesus is set to begin his ministry in Galilee, and with the great benefit of hindsight, we all know where this will end. With death, certainly, a fate we all share, but also an extraordinary ministry that changed the world.
Holy one, your power is beyond description, and we ask your blessing as we share the knowledge and faith of Jesus our savior.
John Culter
Jesus is Loaf-Ward
Sometimes because of our experiences with people who misuse power and abuse their leadership, or because of the way the harm has been done by the church in Jesus’ name, or because our culture has been taught to question and distrust authority, confessing the Lordship of Christ is difficult. Even as scripture reveals Jesus as a gentle shepherd, a servant healer, a friend who weeps, attributing Lordship to him seems to invoke a characteristic of a distant ruler, controlling us to do his will against ours. We may not want to sing the word Lord in our hymns. We may rather imagine Jesus’ importance in other ways.
As some may know, Aaron and I were classmates studying English language and literature together in university. Our most challenging course was Anglo Saxon, not just learning the early history of the development of the English language, but attempting to understand Old English itself, a befuddling mixture of German and French with only a mere hint of the language we speak today. Twenty years on and two brains between us, we’ve retained barely anything worth mentioning, surely to the chagrin of our beloved professor who we credit with providing the opportunity of an 8:00 AM class to nurture our young love. But there is one Anglo Saxon word that long lingers in our fading vocabulary, which is the origin of the word Lord: hlāford, from hlāfweard, which means “bread-keeper.”
I’m fairly certain that we didn’t learn what the role of the bread-keeper was in 8th century Britain, but surely it must be as it sounds –the one with the bread! How important! As the one revealed to us as the Bread of Life, as the one who we remember at the communion table when we eat and drink of Jesus’ offering, confessing Jesus as bread-keeper may not be a stretch! The righteousness that comes from faith that Paul encourages us to both express from our lips and experience in our hearts, is the Word that is as close as our bodies. The body of Christ, the bread-keeper who sustains us, is Jesus our Lord.
Generous God, we give you thanks for Jesus, the broken bread of heaven who nourishes us anew. Raised from the dead, we confess Christ as the keeper of what has returned us to You. In Jesus’ holy name we pray. Amen.
Kate Miller
Part of what sustains God’s people, in every time and place, is the telling and retelling of the things God has done. Today’s reading outlines a liturgy for harvest offerings. But it’s so much more that fulfilling a religious responsibility. We can imagine children learning the refrain that goes with the offering, memorizing the words that create the framework for how they will understand the world, so that when it’s their time, they will be able to participate in the story. Think of the people coming, year after year, to offer their gifts and recite the same lines that roll off their tongues as naturally as breathing.
And as they do, they situate themselves, and everyone who hears, in a world where God is living and active, working through the most unlikely of people (“a wandering Aramean”), drawing near to those who are suffering, making a way through injustice, setting free and sustaining in power and grace. Whatever the harvest this year, whatever the circumstances this time around, they know themselves to be in the presence and under the care of the God who does marvellous things.
That’s what liturgy - “the work of the people” - does. The peculiar things we do when we come together in worship shape us, and teach us what it means to be a people caught up with the God who sets free and raises the dead. When we carry in the light and Word and water, when we stand to sing together, when we confess our sin and lift our prayers, when we hear that we are “loved, forgiven, and all part of God’s family,” when we meditate on Scripture and gather at the Table, when we give our offerings and sing our blessing, all of these things work to orient us to the ways and means of God in the world. And seeing that clearly, we are equipped to move into the rest of our lives, trusting in the One who has called and claimed us, living towards the world as it will be when God gets the world God wants.
Holy God, let us never get tired of telling Your story, and finding ourselves in it. When other stories overwhelm our senses, draw us back to Yourself, that we might celebrate all You are and all You do, in, with, and for us. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Transformative Action
Matt 6:1-6,16-21
“Be especially careful when you are trying to be good so that you don’t make a performance out of it. It might be good theater, but the God who made you won’t be applauding." The Message
Working in a school, I am no stranger to performative action. Sometimes, performative action feels like the only kind we see (Pink shirt day, anyone?), so much so that the day prior to (insert-the-color) shirt day, I sigh and give my students a lesson on the difference between performative and transformative action. It’s the latter this passage calls us to, and I think it’s more than just avoiding being seen doing good by others.
But first, a little segue into the educational world: working with children with exceptional needs, teachers are encouraged to use non-judgemental language to help students understand what is “expected” and “unexpected” for behaviour. It’s far kinder to say, “Gosh, that was unexpected,” than “Gross! Don’t pick your nose in public!” Both teach the correct behaviour.
Still, it’s teaching performance and compliance, and I think that messaging to children is very loud. Recently, I asked my youngest what the most important thing was about school. Her answer? “To behave.”
Ouch. Playacting. Pleasing others by “behaving.”
I like to remind myself that with Jesus, expected behaviour includes upending practice and tables in holy places. Centering the love of others and not behaviour. Not worrying about how it looks.
What a burden that is, the weight of behaving in the expected way. And what a gift that is, to be invited to drop that weight.
I think The Message phrases it well, telling us not to “be tempted to role-play before God,” but instead, to focus on his love and how he helps us, without play acting or fanfare.
Prayer:Dear God, let us feel your initiation to your love, to work and pray without concern for any performance for the world. May it be so. Amen.
Erin Tarbuck
Saturday, March 8
The first three instructions in these passages appear to be better applied to how individuals behave inside the church, rather than as a congregation in the wider world. Giving charity discreetly and praying and fasting in an inconspicuous manner seems an appropriate level of humility. But how does such modesty work for a missional church? If no one sees that we give charitably, pray or fast as a testimony of our faith, when do they see us being Christian. Do we loudly declare that we are going to church and quietly pray when we get there?
The final instruction appears universal in its application. It is foolish to put our heart in stores of wealth, as this material wealth may be taken from us, or we may ourselves be taken from this life before we get a chance to use it. But if we are storing treasures in heaven then with our heart we must be doing God’s work on earth. Humility would not stop that from being seen and heard.
We pray together in unison to you dear God and rejoice in the divine treasure that is shared equally. Amen.
Michael Moll
By the Power of God
In today’s scripture text, if you hadn’t already guessed, Paul is in a tizzy. He and those ministering with him are literally begging his readers, which now includes us, to put aside what does not matter and focus on the only thing that does matter: being reconciled (brought together again) with God…
because God, through Jesus, has already accomplished what needed to be done—
Jesus, through whom creation came into being (!) became human (“made him to be sin who knew no sin,” 5:21a) and was obedient to the point of death on a cross that we might live the life God intends, with God;
because we no longer have to wait for the healing of our relationship with God—
we get to live our lives now in response to God’s hard-won grace: “See now is the acceptable time; see now is the day of salvation!” (v. 6:2b);
because why else, if not by the power of God, would Paul and company be able to endure so much while demonstrating such truthful speech with genuine love?
And how else could it be that they’re considered, by all worldly standards, as failures: unknown, dying, punished, sorrowful, poor; and yet the opposite is actually true: they’re well known (by God), alive (in Christ), always rejoicing, they make many rich (in the good news), and possess everything (that truly matters)!
Just before this scripture passage, Paul has reminded his audience that they’ve (we’ve) been entrusted with the message of reconciliation between God and the world (v. 5:19) and “so we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making [God’s] appeal through us” (v. 20a). This is why he’s beside himself to convince the Corinthians (and us) of what truly matters.
So then how do we today share the good news of what God is up to in Jesus? I’ve been intrigued by discussions with our son, Jameson, about how he tries to share the good news with some of his online friends. He tells us that he absolutely can’t mention God, at least at the beginning of those conversations, or what he’s trying to communicate will be immediately dismissed. So, because he thinks very logically (as do many of his friends), he tries to start with the obvious need in our time and place for a moral framework, and then attempts to work backwards from there.
Too often, I find myself paralyzed in my duties as a messenger on behalf of God, too focused on what the reaction of the other might be—or, more honestly, perhaps I’m too concerned about protecting myself rather than about sharing the good news with others! I also try to rely too much on my own wits rather than on God’s ability to equip me for what God calls us to do.
This all raises a number of important questions for you and I and us together to ponder:
How are we living by the hard-won grace of God?
Are we putting any obstacle(s) in the way of others accepting their reconcilement with God?
Are we relying on the power of God?
Taking the time to wrestle with these questions can help because we’re not only called to accept the good news of what God has done, is doing, and will do but also, in these challenging times, to share that good news with others that they too “might become the righteousness of God” (5:21b) and share in the life abundant that God intends—where we are well known (by God), alive (in Christ), always rejoicing, making many rich (in the good news), and possessing everything (that truly matters)!
What a blessing that we have all of the season of Lent to reflect on and practice what God is calling us to as disciples of Jesus, the Christ!
Prayer: Lessen our desire for what the world considers important and increase our desire for what truly matters: life with You. Help us to rely on Your power—which can accomplish so much more than we can ask or imagine—to live in the good news of Your reconciling love and to share that good news with others in ways they can hear. Amen
~ Janice Love
Thursday, March 6: What God Does
Psalm 51 is read right at the beginning of the season of Lent because it is such a fervent, anguished admission of sin. One can imagine that the psalmist does, indeed, have a broken spirit and heart. Perhaps your own heart and soul resonates, if not now but at some time in your life… as mine certainly has.
However, for a psalm of such deep, tormented contrition, there is remarkably little confession in it. We do not hear about any explicit sins. Early in the life of Psalm 51 it was associated with David’s rape of Bathsheba and murder of her husband (see the superscription before verse 1), and that is as likely an appropriate context as any, but the Psalm itself does not suggest it. It seems to transcend any particular context so it can be prayed in any context by anybody… and so it has.
What Psalm 51 lacks in terms of actual confession it more than makes up for in its vision of God. Note how little is said about what the psalmist has done but how much it says about what God does. In the first two verses alone God has mercy, is steadfast in love, has abundant mercy, blots out transgressions, washes and cleanses. This catalogue of the character and actions of God could be multiplied by going through verse by verse. Read the text again and note all that it says about the nature of God and what God has done, still does, and will do.
What sins and transgressions did the psalmist commit? We do not really know. But we do know the God to whom we pray our confessions, the One to whom we can pour out or hearts, the One who hears our pleas for forgiveness and heals our broken spirits, the One who, indeed, can “create in me a new heart” and “restore to me the joy of your [God’s] salvation.”
It could be that this is why Psalm 51 begins Lent, not so much because it is instructing us about how to confess (although it does do that) but because it is so evocative of the One to whom we confess. We begin Lent confronted not so much by the enormity of our sin but by the far surpassing magnitude of God’s mercy, steadfast love, healing and cleansing, creativity and enlivening spirit.
Before such a One we can, indeed, truthfully confess the darkness and hidden shadows in our lives, for we know the One who brings life and light, cleansing and healing… the One who creates us anew.
Prayer
O merciful One, hear our heartful sorrow and remorse over our sins. Your judgment is sure; it reveals the dark truths that we even hate to admit to ourselves. In the light of your judgment may we discover the light that allows us to move forward even in the darkness. May our broken and contrite hearts be recreated anew, clean, inspirited, and filled with the joy of Your salvation. Amen.
Doug Goodwin
Ash Wednesday, 2025: Repairers of the Breach
Isaiah 58:1-12
Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in. (v. 12)
A breach is a gap in a wall, barrier, or defense. In farming, it’s where sheep break loose and wander. In civil engineering, it’s a weak spot in the levee that eventually gives way to cause a flood. In warfare, it’s the point where the enemy forces entry to cause destruction. Reflecting on this scripture passage reveals that in God’s kingdom, the calls to feed and clothe the hungry, challenge injustice, show hospitality to strangers, and heal broken relationships are calls to repair breaches, and these repairs require ongoing attention and care.
God, through the prophet Isaiah, pointed out a deeper issue of the people that required attention: a breach in a matter of the heart. While the people may have followed the outward requirements of the law, such as fasting, their motives were wrong. God challenged them to reconsider what true devotion actually is. God’s message to them, and to us, is clear: When we choose to practice righteousness and align ourselves with God’s ways, God will go before us, guide us, and meet our needs. God promises to be near, strengthening us, revitalizing us with the water of life, and equipping us to fulfill God’s will and calling on our lives.
I’ve always thought of God, in Christ Jesus, as the ultimate repairer of the breach. And it’s true that Jesus does indeed mend things that are broken. He reconciles us to God, brings healing to our minds, bodies, and spirits, and strengthens us daily through the Holy Spirit’s presence. However, this passage reveals that God’s people, including you and I, are also called to be "repairers of the breach" and "restorers of streets to dwell in." Being a breach repairer goes beyond simply rebuilding; it demands strengthening the very areas where the breaches have occurred. This calling invites us to work toward a flourishing world where all can live in peace, in harmony with God, neighbours, and all of creation.
The season of Lent offers a time for sincere self-examination, genuine repentance, and a renewed commitment to walk in the footsteps of our Saviour. As we dedicate ourselves wholeheartedly to loving God and neighbour, we fulfill God’s calling to be builders and restorers, working for God’s glory and the flourishing of all creation.
Prayer: May righteousness and peace show their faces as we do your will, O God.
Sumarme Goble
For the Light to Spill
Mary Magdalene was watching, in
plain sight, as I put Light under
my stony tongue, the cave of my
mouth closed in mourning –
I thought I would be mourning, I
was mourning, and I couldn’t see
Mary Magdalene, and the other one – what
was her name? Mary? Sure
They watched the soldiers seal my lips,
roll a stone between my teeth in
fear of a ludicrous promise. In
plain sight, they could see the light leak
from between the cracks of my sealed
lips, but I was mourning,
I was mourning, and I could
not speak
I am a cave, with Light beneath
my tongue. It is shining, and I
am waiting, waiting, as Mary
Magdalene watches, in
plain sight, waiting
waiting
for the seal to burst
for the Light to spill
Lord, help us understand the ways that you work in us and through us. Help us see the light within. Let Your light flow from our mouths and our hearts and give us patience as we wait for your promises to be fulfilled. In Jesus name, Amen.
Rachel Runesson
Fill My Heart
I contemplate
The triumph of arrival,
Friendship and communion,
Betrayal,
A crowd of jeers,
A painful public death,
A burial.
Have you ever felt that you’ve arrived? Summited the mountain. Finished the lap. Met the goal and crossed it off the list. And then have you been met with an emptiness?
That emptiness is not always there for me. Sometimes, it's exhaustion at having crossed the finish line. But often that emptiness is a sign that my goal was somehow out of alignment with what the deepest part of my being urges me toward and aches for me to be. It's not lost on me that the closest I can come to understanding torture is checking items off a checklist, when we're talking about death by torture.
Christ’s torture is an event of humiliation and rejection. The passage contains so much dark irony and injustice in the context of a story of dark political manipulation that it can be hard to understand who is on which side. Christ’s death still burns with meaning because in spite of the forces against him, he lived a life of purpose, a life of kindness, humility, love and principle.
Blessed creator,
Help me to know and live the love you seek from me.
Help that love to fill my heart.
Help me to always seek compassion and humility and know that my perspective is incomplete without the viewpoints of others.
Help me act with principle and bravery.
Ryan Taylor
Failure & Forgiveness
As we walk the path of Lent, we encounter stories that challenge and comfort us. Today, we are in the center of the Easter story, the moment where Peter, the bold, passionate disciple, denies Jesus three times. This scene, like many in the final hours leading up to Jesus’ crucifixion is very visual, I can picture it in my head like a movie. It brings feelings of disappointment, even judgement. But as we spend time with this passage and dive deeper, we unearth the true message hidden within this human experience.
Our first thought, “how could he?”, but Peter wasn't a villain; he was afraid. Surrounded by hostility, his courage crumbled. We, too, know fear - fear of losing loved ones, fear of the unknown, fear of failure. Like Peter, we might stumble and deny our values, our commitments, even our true selves, out of fear.
But what happens next? Peter doesn't remain in his fear or denial. The rooster's crow comes like the rising sun and reminds him of Jesus' words. In that moment, Peter doesn't fall into self-pity. He remembers Jesus' love, his forgiveness, and his unwavering faith in him.
This is the heart of the story. It's not about Peter's failure, but about the transformative power of forgiveness. Even during moments of hesitation and mistakes, God's love remains constant. Like the rooster's crow, it awakens us to our misjudgements, urging us to turn back to the light.
Lent is a time for reflection but it's also a time for remembering the endless grace of God. Thanks to God, we can ask forgiveness and from there we have the chance to learn, grow, and choose differently. Peter's story reminds us that even the deepest rejection doesn't break our connection with God. It's a call to embrace vulnerability, seek mercy, and step back into the light, just as Peter did.
Let us remember, this Lenten journey towards Christ is filled with both stumbles and strides, but even in the darkest moment’s God’s grace and love shine through, and each experience is another step forward on the path to redemption and renewal of Easter.
May this Lenten season be filled with the endless grace of God, the courage to face our fears, and the strength to turn to the light, walking ever closer to the love that awaits us from Jesus. Amen.
Aaron Andersen
How Great is Our God
This excerpt from Psalm 36 is a beautiful set of lines that express the love and righteousness of God, professing how great and expansive it is. It’s heartwarming, uplifting... and may be, to be completely honest, something we might gloss over.
“Yes, I know God is good and loving,” the entertainment-seeking part of our mind says, “Where’s the drama?” To many of us, the sentiments of the passage are, however well-written and poetically inspiring, all stuff we learned in Sunday School. However attached we are to the word of God, you have to admit it’s nothing we haven’t heard before.
To top it all off, it’s also not something we’re always able to take at face value; there are times when it’s difficult to feel God’s love for us, when it’s hard to see that God is good. We’ve all had those times, felt those feelings, and oftentimes still do even now. It’s a real struggle, especially in the utter chaos and global destruction that is the 2020s. How do we trust in a God of love when the world around us is so loveless? How do we trust that it’s true when our lived experience begs to differ?
These are all questions that have been asked many times, and answered many times, by many different people. There’s little I can say to add to it. So instead, to give us some fresh air, to allow the gentleness and mercy of Jesus to settle in (and get away with it without our distraction-craving subconscious dragging us away), I’d like to invite us to just sit with this passage for a moment.
We’re not here to answer anything, or to explain why we believe, just to contemplate on what we believe. It doesn’t have to be long, it doesn’t have to inspire any particularly deep emotions (though be my guest if you want it to be either), and most importantly, don’t let it be uncomfortable. We’ve probably all done a lot of thinking on these things by now, so let this be as simple of an activity as you want. Think about how great our God is, and how much They love us.
Completely, no matter what we do.
Fully, truly, and genuinely.
Always has, always will, now and forever.
Despite everything that’s going on here on Earth, in our lives, in our hearts, in our minds.
Such that reaches to the Heavens, like the highest of mountains, like the deepest of oceans, priceless and abundant.
All for us.
And nothing will or can change it. Amen.
Levi Miller
So Can I
How many times have I walked this road with you? Each year the journey begins, and I am never quite ready for it. As winter recedes and the joys of Easter spring abound, I am both more familiar with the signs of the journey to Golgotha and the life the pours forth from the tomb and ever more estranged from the grace of the risen Christ. How can that be, Jesus? How can I both feel more at home in the path you lay before your children and yet more unnerved with each passing year? Yes, I feel the great hope of Easter, present in all signs of rebirth, renewal, and resurrection, the joy of Spring itself, but I also feel the pains of Lent, of the winter that never seems to end, of the struggles that deny full illustration from the musings of my head and heart. At the beginning of this Lenten journey, the outcome of the journey feels as if it hangs on a knife’s edge - life and death resting on a precarious summit.
How did you feel when you first carved this new path? Was it as strange to you? Did you know where it would lead? What heady brew of excitement and despair, joy and grief did you feel as you walked in the light of the Spirit? Did you struggle to trust in God?
As the path looms before me, I see signs of your struggle, and in them I find comfort as I walk after you, for if you struggled with such human questions, then so can I. In your humanity I find a fullness of space within which I can embrace my human inheritance and in your faithfulness a place that can hold all my doubt and faith.
In your wake, Jesus, I do follow; awaken me to the path that is before me, that I may experience it in the fullness of your Spirit. Amen
Ben MacRae
The Gift of Salvation
A difficult passage, yet one that shares the reality of our salvation. Here are some reflection points I wish to share as we approach Easter:
The cross, predicted then presented (V23-24): The Old Testament predicts Jesus' death on the cross. In this passage, Jesus presents it as his “hour”. His death is essential for our salvation, depicted metaphorically as a kernel of wheat dying to produce fruit. By dying for us, Christ enables us to bear fruit that glorifies His name.
Submission and surrender (V26): The two words that have a bad reputation in our very individualistic and controlling world. Because Jesus paid for our sins through his death, as his followers, we must likewise relinquish the earthly lives we have and follow his ways. The original sin is what disoriented us from God and made us slaves to our flesh’s desires. In dying to this world, we realign our focus back to God. Paradoxically, to truly live and attain eternal life, we must daily sacrifice our earthly desires and submit ourselves to God.
Atonement (V27): Jesus lived his entire life knowing exactly when and how he would die and for whom he had to die. It is information none of us can fathom, and he had no choice but to do so and glorify God’s name. If I were indeed faced with a troubling choice, I would definitely get myself out of it. But Jesus knew he was born to die for us no matter his anguish or agony. The moment he dies, our sins are transferred to him.
Salvation (V31-33): Jesus' death and subsequent resurrection are themselves a judgment upon the world. It signals the defeat of death and the expulsion of the devil, the "prince of this world." Through His sacrifice and resurrection, Jesus eradicates our eternal debt, providing the means for eternal life and a connection to God. The reality of salvation is that God gave his son to redeem us. We have been purchased with the blood of Jesus. Why then should I ever doubt God’s love and grace?
Father, thank you for the gift of salvation, I don’t deserve it, but you purchased my life with the blood of your son, Jesus. Give me the courage to surrender all that I am so that I may be a reflection of your love and kindness to those around me. Amen.
Ruth Situma
Finding Refuge in God’s Presence
During Lent, we journey through a period of reflection and repentance, much like the anguish expressed in the words of Psalm 31:9-16. In times of distress and sorrow, we can relate to the psalmist's plea for mercy and deliverance. Like broken pottery, we may feel shattered and forgotten, surrounded by enemies and fear. Yet, amidst the chaos, the psalmist turns to God in trust and surrender.
In our Lenten journey, we are invited to do the same—to trust in the Lord even when circumstances seem dire. Just as the psalmist acknowledges that their times are in God's hands, we, too, can find solace in surrendering our lives to God's unfailing love. Lent reminds us that our hope lies not in our own strength or abilities but in the saving grace of our faithful God.
As we walk through the Lenten season, let us echo the psalmist's prayer: "But I trust in you, Lord; I say, 'You are my God.'" May we find refuge in God's presence, knowing that even in our darkest moments, His light shines to guide us, His love surrounds us, and His mercy sustains us.
Dear God, we come to you in times of trouble and sadness seeking your help and comfort. As we go through Lent, we put our faith in your never-ending love and find peace in your presence. Please guide us on the right path and show us the way to righteousness. We ask all of this in the name of Jesus. Amen.
Lise Belanger