Lent 5

A sermon based upon John 12:1–8

In the name of Jesus; amen.

Maybe it was purchased for Lazarus when he was sick and dying, or it was the family’s stash for use when one of them died. It was a good spice to use for the dead, because it was so strong and fragrant and covered the smell. Perhaps it was money in the bank. Expensive and pricey it could have been sold in the event of an emergency or turned into cash for other investments. Or it could have been used for retirement or as a dowry for marriage.

Whatever reason this family had it, it was of great value to them. It might have even been the single most valuable thing this family owned… and there she was, at his feet, pouring it over them… every last drop.

Good God, what was she doing? The oil, worth a year’s salary, dripped from his toes, his ankles, the soles of his feet and she was wiping them with her hair.

A stunned silence permeated the air alongside the smell of it; it filled the whole house and their sinuses. It got into their clothes, in their hair, and on their skin. It was the smell of death and love mixed together.

Have you ever been hit by a strong, unmistakable smell? One that filled your nose and took over your senses? One that pulled you so deeply into the moment in which you were in that it stopped you cold?
They say that the sense of smell is perhaps the strongest of our senses. We taste almost as much with our nose as we do with our tongue. The sense of smell has the ability to weaken our stomachs, elate us, and pull us into memories of things we have long forgotten. And this smell would have filled their very souls.

It was a sensual, intimate, extravagant act that Mary performed; done right in the middle of dinner, in front of all the company. As a custom, people ate while reclining; everyone would have seen what she was doing and if their view was obscured so that they missed seeing it then they would have smelled it, put down their food, stopped talking in the middle of what they were saying and watched as Jesus looked at Mary wiping his feet with her hair.

What happened in that moment between them was deep and emotion-filled… it was a holy and personal moment… and then Judas opened his mouth.

John, the gospel-writer/story teller tells us his motives: Judas is a thief who steals from the common purse which has been entrusted to his care by Jesus and the other disciples.

Judas saw Mary wasting what could have fetched a large amount of money, at least 300 denarii, what might be equivalent to about $2,000 today. It was money he could have used to line his own pockets and so he spoke out against her actions. “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” Maybe he was a thief, but it’s quite possible that he wasn’t the only one in the room with that or a similar thought.

Jesus talked a lot about the poor. He often told people that they should give all they had to the poor. Jesus criticized greed and waste. And there he was… letting this woman pour out her family’s most valued asset onto his feet. There he was, letting her wipe it away with her unbound hair.

John does not share Mary’s reason for doing what she did that night at dinner, but Jesus does, “Leave her alone.” He tells Judas and the rest. “She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Maybe she knew. Mary was a listener so maybe she had heard him talk about what was about to happen when he reached Jerusalem. What she did know was that not long before he had arrived at her home and called her brother out of his grave and so maybe this was her way of saying thank you, or I love you, or I know you are going to die and I have to do something for you that matters, really matters.

Whatever her intentions, she poured out for him her thing of greatest value and it filled the room with its scent and lingered.

The extravagance of love lingers. It lingered with Jesus, who on the night he was betrayed stooped down and washed the feet of his friends. It lingered with Jesus and mixed with his sweat as he carried the cross to the place of his death. It lingered with Jesus in his dying breath. It lingered with him in the tomb where the extravagance of God’s love did something that lingers with us today.

Can you smell it? The smell of God’s grace filling the house, entering our nasal passages, seeping into our pores?

Can you smell what extravagant love can do; extravagant love for God, love that unbinds our hair, and our senses, and brings us to the feet of Jesus?

Love that says, thank you, and I love you, and I know that you died out of love for me.

Be extravagant with your love; do not hold it back. Jesus says that Mary bought the perfume for the day of his burial, but she doesn’t wait until he is dead to use it. Be extravagant with your love; pour it out for others to smell and taste and see and hear and feel.

For God is extravagant with love for us, love that lingers and lasts for all time.

Amen.

Lent 4

This week's sermon was preached without a manuscript.

Here are two versions of the story that Jesus told:

Eugene Peterson's The Message:
Gospel Luke 15:1–3, 11b–32
1 By this time a lot of men and women of doubtful reputation were hanging around Jesus, listening intently. 2 The Pharisees and religion scholars were not pleased, not at all pleased. They growled, "He takes in sinners and eats meals with them, treating them like old friends." 3 Their grumbling triggered this story.

11 Then he said, "There was once a man who had two sons. 12 The younger said to his father, 'Father, I want right now what's coming to me.' 13 It wasn't long before the younger son packed his bags and left for a distant country. There, undisciplined and dissipated, he wasted everything he had. 14 After he had gone through all his money, there was a bad famine all through that country and he began to hurt. 15 He signed on with a citizen there who assigned him to his fields to slop the pigs. 16 He was so hungry he would have eaten the corncobs in the pig slop, but no one would give him any. 17 "That brought him to his senses. He said, 'All those farmhands working for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving to death. 18 I'm going back to my father. I'll say to him, Father, I've sinned against God, I've sinned before you; 19 I don't deserve to be called your son. Take me on as a hired hand.' 20 He got right up and went home to his father. When he was still a long way off, his father saw him. His heart pounding, he ran out, embraced him, and kissed him. 21 The son started his speech: 'Father, I've sinned against God, I've sinned before you; I don't deserve to be called your son ever again.' 22 "But the father wasn't listening. He was calling to the servants, 'Quick. Bring a clean set of clothes and dress him. Put the family ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Then get a grain-fed heifer and roast it. We're going to feast! We're going to have a wonderful time! 24 My son is here - given up for dead and now alive! Given up for lost and now found!' And they began to have a wonderful time. 25 "All this time his older son was out in the field. When the day's work was done he came in. As he approached the house, he heard the music and dancing. 26 Calling over one of the houseboys, he asked what was going on. 27 He told him, 'Your brother came home. Your father has ordered a feast - barbecued beef! - because he has him home safe and sound.' 28 "The older brother stalked off in an angry sulk and refused to join in. His father came out and tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen. 29 The son said, 'Look how many years I've stayed here serving you, never giving you one moment of grief, but have you ever thrown a party for me and my friends? 30 Then this son of yours who has thrown away your money on whores shows up and you go all out with a feast!' 31 "His father said, 'Son, you don't understand. You're with me all the time, and everything that is mine is yours - 32 but this is a wonderful time, and we had to celebrate. This brother of yours was dead, and he's alive! He was lost, and he's found!'"


New Revised Standard Version:
Gospel Luke 15:1–3, 11b–32
1 Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them."
3 So he told them this parable: 11 There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So he divided his property between them. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. 14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17 But when he came to himself he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands." ' 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' 22 But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe — the best one — and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.
25 Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.' 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!' 31 Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'"

Lent 3

A sermon based upon Isaiah 55:1–9 and Luke 13:1–9

In the name of Jesus; amen.

Jesus was surrounded by a large crowd and preaching to his disciples about how one should live their life. It was a sermon filled with warnings about being prepared and being faithful and as he was preaching some in the group spoke up and mentioned an incident in which Pilate had squashed an uprising in Galilee and blood had been spilled.

We aren’t told exactly what they said to Jesus, but by his response we might imagine something like this was said: “They must have been really awful sinners to have something like that happen. Wasn’t that terrible? They really must have deserved it; don’t you think so, Jesus?”

There was no question that what had happened was a terrible thing and when terrible things happen it’s a natural thing to want to justify why it happened, but listen to what Jesus says:

“Do you think,” he asks, “that because these Galileans suffered in this way that they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them – do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”

In the recent past there have been some great large-scale tragedies. Who can forget the towers that fell on 9/11? Or the tsunami that hit Indonesia in 2004? Or hurricane Katrina that destroyed the gulf coast? Or the killing of Amish girls in a one-room school house?

Each time great tragedies occur in the world or in our personal lives we wonder why.

The people who mention the Galilean tragedy have a theory on the why: they were sinners and deserved it.

We shouldn’t be surprised; we’ve heard similar theories associated with recent tragedies. For instance did anyone hear the theory that New Orleans was wiped out because it was a city of sin and God wanted to punish those living there so he sent Katrina?

The people who approach Jesus wanted to point fingers, to have a good excuse for why such an awful thing would have happened, but they also wanted something else. They wanted some sort of assurance that they weren’t like those who had been killed.

What Jesus tells them is that tragedies happen and they happen without reason sometimes and they happen to people no matter what kind of sinner they are. Sometimes bad things happen to good people and sometimes bad things happen to bad people and so we can’t judge a person’s sinfulness based upon the blessings or curses they receive.

That is the first part. Here’s the second: life is short and we can’t assume that everything will be great for us just because.

Jesus tells a parable about a fig tree. For three years the owner of the fig tree comes looking for fruit on it and finds none, so he tells the gardener to cut it down. But the gardener pleads for it and offers to take special care of it in hopes that it will produce for its owner.

The people wanted Jesus to talk bad about those whom Pilate killed, but instead of Jesus getting pulled into their finger-pointing talk he pointed the finger back at them. Those who suffered tragedy were not worse sinners than others who deserved to be punished but we are all sinners for whom tragedy may very well occur.

Jesus tells them to repent. Jesus tells us to repent because our time is limited. Do it now, because there may not be a later. But don’t be confused, repentance is not a one time act and then everything is ok. Jesus isn’t suggesting we just say that we are sorry and ask for forgiveness. Instead Jesus wants us to live repentant-ly; he wants us to live fruitfully.

Isaiah says it this way: “Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; listen so that you may live.”

Living a repentant life, a fruitful life is living a life of constant desire for God. It isn’t esoteric or metaphoric, it is physical and real. It is purposeful life lived not in judgment of others but in service to God through our relationships and care of others.

In other words… we aren’t meant to do good in order to be saved or avoid tragedy, but in order to be fruitful. If God has given us more time it is for the purpose of fruitfulness.

Jesus wants us to be fruitful which means constantly turning to God for good things rather than wasting our money and labor for that which does not satisfy.

And we have been given another year to do this. That’s grace… unbelievable grace. God so desires our fruitfulness that we are given more time to produce, but time isn’t the only thing we are given. Jesus, the gardener makes a promise to fertilize the ground in which we are planted… to give us that which we need to be fruitful in the time we have been granted.

And why does God want us to be fruitful? Because a fruitful life is a full life. It is a life of rich things that satisfy instead of things that leave us thirsty and hungry. It is a life where tragedy and sin do not have the final word in our lives and this is the desire that God has for us. God desires our lives to be full and filled with good things. God wants to provide the thirsty with water and those with nothing enough to buy wine and milk… drinks of celebration and goodness.

And so we have been given another year and fertilizer; the things that help us to grow. Be fruitful and repentant and may the grace of God bless you with fullness and new life. Amen.

Lent 2

A sermon based upon Luke 13:31–35

In the name of Jesus; amen.

At that very same hour some Pharisees came and said to him, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.”

Jesus was causing trouble and he was doing it on the Sabbath. He was preaching about God and had just healed a woman who had a physical ailment which had bent her over for 18 years. He had called the leader of the synagogue a hypocrite and the people were eating him up when suddenly some Pharisees come and tell him to run away.

At first it might seem as though they were trying to help Jesus by warning him of impending danger. This was the same Herod who had beheaded Jesus’ cousin, John the Baptist and his father was the one who had slaughtered innocent children in hopes of killing the baby Jesus. Herod might very well have been after him and would have had the means necessary to kill him.

It sounds as though they were trying to help.

Listen again to what Jesus tells them upon hearing his life is in danger: “Go and tell that fox or me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’”

Jesus doesn’t sound too afraid, does he? In fact he sounds remarkably unafraid. We know why. Herod is not a threat; Jesus is on a mission that will take him to Jerusalem where he knows death is not going to come from Herod, but from the people who hand him over to be crucified.

He calls Herod a fox; an animal not considered the most cunning or ferocious in Jesus’ day. Herod is more of a nuisance than a threat to Jesus.

Maybe those Pharisees who come to warn Jesus were worried about him, but more likely they were worried about the trouble that Jesus was causing. If Herod was out to get him then the Pharisees didn’t want the trouble that would come with Herod’s desire to hurt him. Not that Jesus wasn’t already causing trouble, because he was; and if they got him to leave well… that might be better for them in every respect, or so they thought.

After calling Herod a fox Jesus makes it clear that he is headed for Jerusalem and he is going there because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem,” he laments, “the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

The Pharisees want Jesus to move along or change his message. They were happy with the status quo and Jesus was messing it up for them.

Jesus calls Herod a fox, but he likens himself to a mother hen wanting to gather her chicks under her wings. It’s a beautiful metaphor… Jesus as mother.

Hens gather their brood under their wings when there is danger from a predator. They call out to them and make their wings into a protective dome with an opening large enough for all of them to gather under.

This is Jesus, a stark contrast to the fox Herod who wants to kill him and the Pharisees who want him to abandon them. Jesus’ desire is to offer shelter and protection to unwilling chicks.

Herod was the king of the Jewish people, but he was not a religious man. He was too concerned with his own well-being and status to give much credence to God. He was king at the pleasure of Rome and he served them… not the people. And the Pharisees, while religious, did not want to upset the boat. They liked their rules and their notions about holiness.

The message that Jesus preached upset their world… it was an upsetting message not because it was exclusive, but because it was too inclusive. It let too many people in under its wings and called them to reconsider too closely what made a person blessed.

Jesus’ message was for all; his motherly wings large enough to gather the whole world to his breast, but it meant a different life and that scared people.

It still scares people… this idea of being gathered under Jesus’ motherly wings. It’s why there are churches out there growing by leaps and bounds who do not display a cross anywhere or anytime in their worship. It’s why there are churches out there growing by leaps and bounds that preach that Jesus wants us to be rich and drive expensive cars. It’s why there are churches out there growing by leaps and bounds that tell its members that only they will be saved while the rest of humanity will be left behind to suffer eternal torment.

And yet, Jesus wants to gather us in and shelter us… all of us under the message of God’s love and grace like a mother hen gathers her chicks together under her wings.

This is why he made his way to Jerusalem even though he knew that Jerusalem meant his death; because the cross is meant to gather us and shelter us. The cross is meant to embrace us, not in death, but in new life. The cross is meant to hold us and cover us with all the blessings of God.

These wings of Jesus, this cross of Christ, is for all… be willing and be sheltered. Amen.

Lent 1

A sermon based upon Deuteronomy 26:1–11

In the name of Jesus; amen.

From our bulletin’s introduction today:

The Lenten discipline is a spiritual struggle. In the confession of sins we acknowledge that we struggle and seek God’s strength. Jesus struggles with us, and so we are sustained. Help is as close as a prayer and a confession that we cannot do it on our own. God gives life and its fruit, and so all we offer in worship is giving back what was first given us by grace.

The Lenten discipline is a spiritual struggle. We begin with Ash Wednesday where we are reminded of our death and sin and as the week begins anew we hear about Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness.

Lent always begins this way as if the readings are trying to discipline us into the season. We are mortal, sinners, and we are tempted they tell us.

Lent can feel like it is a real drag and the traditions that go along with this season are an equal drag. Traditionally Lent is a time of purging. We give things up for Lent; we stop eating meat and chocolate and we pack up the “A” word in a box to be opened at Easter. Our spiritual struggle takes on physical attributes.

Lent is a time of giving things up and depriving ourselves of those things we really enjoy… at least that’s what people say.

To be honest I’ve never been fond of the idea of giving something up for Lent. After the noon worship service on Wednesday I walked through the hall downstairs, ashes all over my forehead, and was bombarded by questions from some of the day care children. “Why do you have marker all over your face?” I was asked. Edwin, one of the teachers explained that I had ashes on my face, not marker. “Why do you do that? What’s Ash Wednesday?”

“It’s the first day of Lent,” I told them. “And we put ashes on our face to remind us how much we need God.”

Edwin then joked with me that he was giving up work for Lent. “Can’t do that,” I told him. “Ok,” he said, “then I’ll give up school.” (Edwin is studying to become a teacher.) “Instead of not doing something,” I suggested. “Why not do something positive and good for Lent?” He smiled and went back to playing with the kids in the hall.

The Lenten discipline is a spiritual struggle, but it has tangible consequences. It doesn’t matter if you struggle with giving something up or adding a new discipline; the practices of Lent are meant to test us until we understand that without God we can do nothing.

In our first reading this morning from Deuteronomy I am struck by the amount of times that the reader is reminded of what God has given. Six times some form of the word “give” is used in the eleven verses we read. And each time it refers to what God has given the people.

It is an interesting coincidence that this is our first reading because throughout this Lenten season we will be talking about stewardship and stewardship begins with the understanding that all we have comes from God.

The ancient people, including those Hebrews who celebrated the rituals explained in Deuteronomy, would take a portion of their first crops and sacrifice them to the gods, or in the case of the Hebrews… to God.

If you’ve ever heard the term: “First Fruits” this is where it came from. It was the practice of giving to God the first of their abundance. Even more ancient cultures would take this practice so far as to sacrifice their first born son. (Do you remember the story of Abraham almost sacrificing Isaac?)

It was an act of pure, unadulterated faith to do something like this. To sacrifice your first crop, even a portion of it meant that there was that much less for the rest of the year. What if there was a famine? What if some natural disaster took place and destroyed all the rest that they counted on?

And yet, they did it. They did it because ultimately they knew that the land they lived on had come from God. It was God’s and all they received from it was from God.

In grade school I had a teacher who told us a story about how her daughter wanted to run away from home. She told her that if she wanted to run away that she could go right ahead, but that she couldn’t take anything with her… no toys, no clothes, no nothing, because everything that her daughter had belonged to her. Yes, she had given those things to her daughter, but ultimately they belonged to her because she had been the one to go shopping and to pay for them.

Yes, those crops were the peoples’ but ultimately they belonged to God because God had been the one to give them to the people.

When we talk about stewardship, we are following the model of first fruits; understanding that all we have really ultimately belongs to God and so we give God the first of our gifts, trusting that God will provide us with all that we need.

I want to read to you again that little introduction from your bulletin:
The Lenten discipline is a spiritual struggle. In the confession of sins we acknowledge that we struggle and seek God’s strength. Jesus struggles with us, and so we are sustained. Help is as close as a prayer and a confession that we cannot do it on our own. God gives life and its fruit, and so all we offer in worship is giving back what was first given us by grace.

Stewardship is also a spiritual struggle and it’s easy to mistake stewardship as similar to the practice of giving something up for Lent. It can be a real drag when we think of it that way. But stewardship is not about giving-up something or depriving ourselves. Rather it is a struggle to understand that God has given us so much, but that ultimately it still belongs to God.

After the people sacrificed their first fruits to God they celebrated. Verse 11 says, “Then you, together with the Levites and the aliens who reside among you, shall celebrate with all the bounty that the LORD your God has given to you and to your house.”

The practice of stewardship resulted in celebration.

Lent, for as somber as it is, is not a season of mourning, but a process that takes us to a celebration of the gifts that God has given us.

All we have comes from God, all we have is God’s. As we struggle with this, may we also find reason upon reason to celebrate it.

Amen.

Ash Wednesday

A sermon based upon Matthew 6:1–6, 16–21

In the name of Jesus; amen.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

This season of Lent will be following a theme of stewardship. Now stewardship is considered the practice of caring for the gifts that God has given us. And we will be using a tagline throughout these 40 days: “Walking with Jesus.”

It sounds like a nice fit, we often refer to Lent as a journey; a journey towards the cross and Easter. And who better to walk this journey with than Jesus while we self-examine, repent, pray and fast, give sacrificially, and do works of love, the disciplines of Lent.

And there is something about this season, when we focus on the sacrifice that Jesus made, that should call us to reflect on our stewardship. Often we associate this word, stewardship, with how much money we give to the church, but I want us to reconsider that notion.

Stewardship is not just about money and good stewardship is not just about what we put in the offering plate. Stewardship is walking with Jesus in every aspect of our lives.
Ash Wednesday focuses on two things: our mortality and our sinfulness. Today is meant to take us through a process of recognizing our need for God. We are mortal, we are going to die and we are sinful by nature. There is little we can do to avoid either thing. We can eat right, exercise, be in the best of health and still we die. We can try our best to be good, to not hurt others, to follow the law and yet we are bound to sin in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.

Sin and death are unavoidable, but God recreates our mortality into a promise of resurrection and God recreates our sinful selves into forgiven saints.

This is our treasure; this gift of forgiveness and resurrection are the vessel out of which all our blessings flow. This gift from God is our well-spring from which come all the good things we are given.

It is the gift of forgiveness and resurrection that we are called to be stewards of. We are meant to care for this gift and use it to the best of our abilities. We are meant to share it with others. We are meant to give some of it away, save some of it, and use the rest for daily living. This gift of forgiveness and resurrection is meant to be cared for wisely.

It is a gift that provides for our greatest needs and God gives it to us without a second’s hesitation. We are forgiven and we are resurrected; Jesus made this a certainty in his death on the cross.

It might sound like a strange thing. How do we become stewards of forgiveness and resurrection? How do we give it away, save it, and use it for daily life? I think we do it the same way in which we are stewards of any gift from God by trusting that we will not run out, by trusting that God will continue to provide for our needs. We do it by recognizing that forgiveness and resurrection are resources that cannot be kept in a box up on a shelf, but need to be taken out and used.

We become good stewards of this resource when we realize that God intended it for all of creation. That means that it was not just meant for you or me, but for everyone. God gave us all we need in abundance so that there would be enough for all.

You and I are sinners and we are going to die, but God gives us this grace-thing which provides for a different way of us living life. We become good stewards of all the other stuff… our time, our talents, and our treasures by first caring for the forgiveness we receive and the resurrection we are promised.

This is the first thing, this grace-thing that wipes away the ashes of sin and death and it has been given to us. It is a treasure for our hearts to store and give away.

I’m not saying it is an easy thing; in fact it isn’t easy, but this is why Jesus walks with us. It is why Jesus is a constant presence in our lives so that in the moments when we doubt or despair that there isn’t enough Jesus is there to say, “God’s grace is sufficient.”

We do not need to hoard or store up, but to live knowing that Jesus is walking with us and that every gift comes from God for a purpose.

We have been forgiven for a purpose and we have been promised a resurrection for a purpose. God has given us purposeful gifts, gifts that are necessary, and needful, gifts that are meant to be shared and used.

In these days ahead, as we walk with Jesus, may we continue to find new purpose for the gift of God’s grace.

Amen.