In the wilderness of these days, I find myself tempted to retreat from the world around me. The pandemic has trained me

I wonder what the numerous losses our world has experienced in the past two years may have liberated us from. What joys may we discover in this liberation? In the freedom from the way things were? In the discovery of stars to guide us? In the joy we allow ourselves to take in each new birth.

I used to think that the end of the world would come in a blaze of glory. I used to think that when the world ended there would be plenty of warning. I used to think that if you paid enough attention to what was going on around you, you would be able to tell when the world was going to end.

Excuse me if I sound a little too indignant but jockeying for a seat during a global pandemic is more than a little tone deaf, when according to the United Nations, yet another 150 million or so people will be plunged into poverty this year, swelling the ranks of the global poor to over one and a half-billion people, over half of which are children.

1st  Corinthians chapter 13. Danna recited it from a brand-spanking new translation of the Bible; you may remember, if you are of a certain age, it was called “Good News for Modern Man:”

We can no longer deny that the seeds of racism and hatred are growing at a pace which threatens to choke our long-ago dreams of a multicultural paradise.

While he was dying of cancer, American poet and short story writer Raymond Carver, penned a poem which, although it is but a fragment of a poem, it has the power to move me into the deepest part of my very self. This poem would eventually be titled, “Late Fragment”

From within this pandemic wilderness of Lent, we must prepare ourselves to enter our second Holy Week in lockdown. At a time, when so much of our focus revolves around the hope generated by the arrival of vaccines, it occurs to me that we would do well to remember to vaccinate ourselves against more than just COVID.

Before we can move on, though, we need to be honest with ourselves. Before we can get to the prayer, “Create in me a clean heart” (51.10), we have to face our sins. Saying, “Create in me a clean heart,” reflects an inner desire for God’s purification. The words are a confession of our need for change. It’s so easy to point to the killer, the public official who said the wrong words, the rioters at the Capitol, the conspiracy theorists, and the anti-vaxxers. We say, They’re the ones with a problem. They are the hateful ones. Not me.

The following church service was conducted by George Stuart at Toronto New South Wales in Australia March 2021.

It may seem ludicrous for this “progressive preacher” to find herself tempted to pray for a miracle. But the region in which I live has been under a strict stay-at-home order since Boxing Day. So, right about now I sure could use some sort of miracle to occur which would release us all from this COVID enforced lockdown.

Blaise Pascal wagered that it is better to believe in God as if God existed than not believe as if God didn't. He argued that if God exists and we believe, then we are positioned by our beliefs to gain eternal happiness; whereas if we don't believe, then we might have positioned ourselves for eternal torment in hell for not believing. The gains or losses are therefore infinite if God exists.

Our gratitude for the great fullness of our lives is only the beginning of what it means to be alive. It is not enough to simply be grateful for all that we have all that we will receive. Our gratitude for the reality that our cups are filled to overflowing with blessings leads us to thanksgiving.

I wonder when I stopped looking to the rivers, or to the sky, or the oceans, or the mountains and all the creatures who live upon the Earth so that I might find the answers to my questions. I can’t quite pinpoint the moment when I stopped fishing for answers in Creation and began fishing in libraries.

I used to think that the addition of ‘another member of the church’ was a cop-out, and that we really should forgive everyone without counting. Yet in another place Jesus specifically tells his disciples to kick the dirt off their feet as protest to those who will not accept them. This doesn’t sound like forgiveness. Was he contradicting himself? Some would say ‘yes.’ I have even done so myself. But my own cultural circumstances in 2020 have made me revisit this and come out with a different conclusion.

Let us use our moral imaginations to try to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt (just as we should do with each other in our daily lives). We all know that there are those who are poor and suffering who still side with the wealthy and healthy rather than with their own people. It is ironic, but we see such things common even in our own time.

The following sermon was given for my siblings at Montview Presbyterian Church, one of the three local worshipping communities I am affiliated with here in Denver. (The other two being St John’s Episcopal Cathedral and New Beginnings, a Lutheran church that meets within the walls of the Women’s Prison.

During our lock-down we have found new ways of being the Church, new ways of seeing the DIVINE in one another, new ways of communing with one another.

Today’s lectionary reading from the Hebrew Scriptures is an appalling story about a Father, Son, and sacrifice. God commanded Abraham to make a human sacrifice of his only son, Isaac.

Perhaps the story isn’t so much about God but about us. But if you accept that the Bible is the work of many authors, the story tells you nothing about God. Instead, it tells you what the various authors’ believed.

As we stand, you and I, at the shoreline of destruction, seeing, in the distance, the end of this American empire, there is but one way forward, old and true: Be not conformed to this society — nor kill yourself to make it love you — but be transformed in it, against it, by the renewal of your mind, body, and spirit. No matter the cost.

Whether you agree with me or not in my diagnosis of our situation, I’m sure you agree that our social divisions are worsening.  Painful disagreements on what really matters, who’s right, and who’s wrong are dividing families and friends down the middle. Jesus’ prophecy is coming true in that sense.  These divisions are creating real wounds for some, and exposing long-standing wounds for others as people take sides and as the underbelly of our society is being exposed. 

How did we get here? All over the world people are marching in the streets proclaiming, “Black lives matter.” Millions have defied the fear of the corona virus, and taken their lives into their hands to venture out into the streets to protest the systemic racism that permeates institutions all over this planet.

Like many of you I have watched a wept as over and over again, young black men and women have their breath taken from them as they are murdered in the streets, in their yards, on their porches, and in their beds by the very ones who are sworn to protect and serve them.

I come to you with a heavy heart. I feel the weight of the pain of America this morning. The fires that we see on the news, maybe these are pentecost fires. These are certainly symptomatic of a deep pain among the poor and people of color, especially black people.

Julia Ward Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation calls us to repent, to turn away from the systemic evils of the military industrial complex. Pastor Dawn Hutchings, Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Mother's Day 2018, John 17:6-11

Senses sharpened in the silence, gently, quietly, feel your breath, know God’s love will never leave us, now, or in our time of death.

“Do You See This Woman?” Jesus poses this very question to Simon, a Pharisee, over a casual meal as found in our gospel reading from today, Luke 7:36-47.

For many of us, social distancing, has created a wall between us and separated us from our lives. Bumping up against this wall over and over again, our noses can almost smell the fear filled mortar which oozes from the newly laid brickwork.

  Click below for Video of Sermon     Prelude Singing Bell and Call to Worship: L: Our lives feel all disjointed as