Release

 

²⁸ “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ 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. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Matthew 11:28-30

 

This week, we begin the season of Lent with Ash Wednesday.  Lent is a time set aside for prayer, fasting (not only from food, but anything that can disconnect/distance us from the Divine ~ anything that demands our allegiance and promises to make us whole, but leaves us feeling empty).  During Lent, we focus on God’s holy presence.  Lent is tethered and tied to Advent.  God’s work of saving love for the whole world began at Christmas, not just on Easter Sunday.  God’s work of saving love already happened with the incarnation of Jesus.  Remember, another name for Jesus is Emmanuel, meaning God with us.  When we pray the word “Emmanuel,” we name the ongoing work of faith to find a manger-shaped space in our souls every day.  The above passage invites us to slow down and savor the sacred as we begin the season of Lent.

 

Where are you weary ~ could be physically, emotionally, spiritually, or relationally.

What burdens do you keep lugging around in your invisible backpack? 

Where have you convinced yourself that the pain is your cross to bear, but maybe God is asking you to set down and release the white-knuckle grip you have on that pain?

Where do you long for rest or renewal?

 

Lent doesn’t have to be serious and somber.  Lent is a call to be honest and heartfelt about connecting to the Holy.  First, we are invited to be honest with ourselves about how we can be frustrated, frenzied, and flummoxed by life right now.  How we live with the tension of doing normal things like eating, laughing, singing, shopping, going to the doctor, and talking to friends ~ when the world isn’t normal.  This tension longs to be named and grieved.  We ask for Emmanuel to meet us in the messiness and uncontrollability of life. 

 

Today, let Jesus’ invitation to bring all you carry.  As you do, join me as we softly sing to our souls the words of What a Friend We Have in Jesus, the third verse:

 

Are we weak and heavy laden,
cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge--
take it to the Lord in prayer!
Do your friends despise, forsake you?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In his arms he'll take and shield you;
you will find a solace there.

Prayer

 

All In

 

I love it when the Bible becomes a comedy show.  Usually, it is one line that we might miss because we tend to read the Bible with a frownie face rather than searching for the folly of faithfulness.  I love the Headwaiter’s or Steward’s response in John 2.  You might remember from Monday that the punchline of the story is when the waiter exclaims, “This wine is delectable. Why would you save the most exquisite fruit of the vine? A host would generally serve the good wine first and, when his inebriated guests don’t notice or care, he would serve the inferior wine. You have held back the best for last.”

 

The subtle, almost subversive sacred invitation here is, God doesn’t play by our rules.  The waiter lays out the normal expectation: serve the good stuff first, and then, when everyone is a bit toasted, you can bring out the Mogan David and 2-buck-chuck.  Even in Jesus’ day, hospitality had boundaries and limits.  But here, Jesus is thinking, “Fine, if I am going to change water into wine, let’s go all in.”  That is a metaphor for God’s love.  God goes all in with you and me.  God doesn’t cut corners or hold back.  God continually offers the unconditional and unceasing grace that fills us with the deliciousness of the divine.  As we approach Valentine’s Day, where have you tasted the goodness and holiness of God’s love in your life?  Perhaps not in some spectacular way.  God’s love can come in beautifully ordinary ways.  May you and I continually be open, willing to be surprised by the sacred that shows up in ways we cannot predict, but can present us with a love we need now more than ever.  Amen.

The Turtle Way

 

The image of Jesus changing water into wine isn’t only a fun party trick.  I think one of the reasons this story tells of Jesus’ first act of public ministry in the gospel of John is that following Jesus changes us.  Here we are, almost a month and a half into 2026.  I don’t know if you have New Year's Resolutions?   According to Forbes, while 80 percent of people are confident in their ability to meet their goals for the New Year, many people drop their resolutions by January 17.   The average length of time for keeping a resolution is 3.74 months.  We know that change is difficult and involves grief.  Sometimes we want to move quickly, sprinkle some kind of Miracle-Gro on our lives so that we see transformation in the blink of an eye.  But as the great story of the tortoise and hare teaches us, slow and steady wins the race.  Your own life taught you this.  You started by being unable to hold up your own head as an invitation.  Then, you mastered turning over on your tummy, eventually you began to awkwardly crawl, then can stood with wobbly legs as a toddler who had numerous tumbles and falls.  I don’t know why humans believe that when we become adults, that process doesn’t apply to our health, our thoughts, and our faith.  Change is difficult, demanding, and the defense attorney in your head might tell you, “Why bother?”  Often, we want to change not just ourselves but others.  I’ve shared before my favorite quote from Edwin Friedman, “The colossal misunderstanding of our time is the assumption that insight will work with people who are unmotivated to change. Communication does not depend on syntax, or eloquence, or rhetoric, or articulation, but on the emotional context in which the message is being heard. People can only hear you when they are moving toward you, and they are not likely to when your words are pursuing them. Even the choicest words lose their power when they are used to overpower.” 

 

How does the above quote land in your life right now?  Friedman, while correct, frustrates me.  I want to change others.  I want my words to so “enlighten” them that they are forever grateful for my tutelage.  The truth is, Friedman might not only be talking about those people, but we people, and specifically you and me.  Sometimes I am unmotivated to change.  I like my opinions, routine, and way of being.  Why should I change? 

 

The spiritual question is, what is Christ trying to change in me right now?  As Christ fills the jar of my life today with living water, how is Christ also praying over my life for subtle, subversive transformation?  Am I listening, or am I like a vessel that has a lid so tight on top that even God couldn’t pry it off?  I pray today you will take a moment to look back over the first few weeks of this young year.  What is shifting, realizing it might be subtle or awkward or even more failure than success?  Where might God be calling you to toddle your way toward right now?  May these moments of meditation stir our lives to keep responding to the One who still changes the water of life now into the wine of God’s blessings. Amen.

The Life of the Party

 

Remember the last party you went to, what images come to mind?  Maybe it was a Super Bowl party on Sunday, New Year’s Eve, a recent birthday celebration, or fellowship after church.  When we gather in Syster Hall on Sundays, we are living the value of caring and belonging.  Ponder, what helps make a party a party?  Is it music, food, dancing, or meeting someone new?  Do you love big parties or more intimate dinner gatherings with just a few others so you can all participate in the conversation?  One of the key values of God, according to John, is gathering people where each can show up as their God-created self.  The truth of worship isn’t just for us to celebrate God as if God needs the praise to feed God’s ego.  Rather, when we worship, we get caught up in celebration as a key component and characteristic of God.  What would it mean to worship a God who loves parties, not just somber, serious prayers?  What would it mean to welcome others as a way of prayer?  Welcoming is one of our core values as a church.  We embody this in the practice of an open communion table ~ there is a place for everyone at Christ’s table.  We don’t decide who is on God’s guest list.  We don’t check baptismal cards, attendance records, or contribution statements.  All means all.  We practice a prayerful welcome at fellowship, seeking to sit with people we don’t know as well.  We practice a prayerful welcome in taking food to those who are food insecure at the Community Meal and Resurrection House.  We practice God’s love in hospitality, taking food to friends who live in fear and cannot go out because of ICE.  You can practice prayerful hospitality in conversations.  Your listening ear, curious questions, and open posture toward another is a loving action.  To be sure, it might be easier to turn water into wine than listen to people who are full of hate.  I would rather welcome people I like who think like me.  This is what social media bubbles do to us.  They promise us that we are safe, secure, and soothed, but watch the moment you color outside the line.  When you post something that doesn’t reflect the perspective or political position of another, there is someone who lashes out with keyboard courage to “tell” you what is right.  Just as Jesus lived in an honor and shame society, so do we.  We blame and shame each other viciously online and in the 24-hour-news-tainment that is our world.  Today, practice gracious, generative hospitality with one person.   Pro tip: doesn’t have to be your mortal enemy, doesn’t have to be someone who makes your blood boil and the tiny vein on your neck throb.  Pick someone whom you do care about, but perhaps can step on your toes.  Finally, please note, the goal is not to “change” the other person.  The goal is not for you to do this to earn God’s love (which is unconditional anyway).  The goal is to see what happens in your body, mind, soul, and life when you welcome another person with an embrace of God’s love that has you.  I pray this stirs your soul in new ways this day.

Hospitality is Next to Godliness

 

This year, we are wandering our way through the Gospel of John.  Over the last few weeks, you’ve heard about Jesus' conversations with Nicodemus (John 3), Photine (John 4), and the man who had been suffering for 38 years at the pool in Bethzatha (John 5).  Continue to hold the question from yesterday, “Where does it hurt?”  Each conversation in these three chapters opened our imaginations to hear God authoring our story in these days.  This week, I want to rewind to John 2, the Wedding Feast.  In Jesus’ day, wedding feasts were not just one night but would go on for upwards of a week.  It was the responsibility of the groom to provide provisions for everyone who came to the feast.  And you thought your wedding was expensive!!  Secondly, in Jesus’ day, the cliché wasn’t, “Cleanliness is next to Godliness.”  Instead, hospitality was holy and the way you let loose God’s love.  You would do whatever it took to make sure there was food and drink for a guest, rather than face the shame of being seen as stingy.  You see the culture of hospitality in Genesis 18, when three guests/angels show up at Abraham and Sarah’s campsite.  Even though it is the middle of the day, when the heat and humidity are oppressive, Abe springs into action.  He tells Sarah to bake enough bread to feed 5000; he takes the best calf to be prepared with a rosemary sauce; he will do whatever it takes to be seen as a good host.  I see him with sweat pouring off his forehead. He stands nearby, praying that the guests will give him a good review.  Hospitality, welcome, and caring were important ways to express God’s love woven into the Jewish culture.  Given this cultural context, slowly read these words of John 2 from the Voice translation:

 

Three days later, they all went to celebrate a wedding feast in Cana of Galilee. Mary, the mother of Jesus, was invited together with Him and His disciples. While they were celebrating, the wine ran out, and Jesus’ mother hurried over to her son.

Mary: The host stands on the brink of embarrassment; there are many guests, and there is no more wine.  (Wes’ side note ~ the embarrassment or shame would be perhaps because the host didn’t count on the number of people or how thirsty they would be.  Nevertheless, the host will never live this down!).

Jesus: Dear woman, is it our problem that they miscalculated when buying wine and inviting guests? My time has not arrived.

But she turned to the servants.

Mary: Do whatever my son tells you.

In that area were six massive stone water pots that could each hold 20 to 30 gallons. They were typically used for Jewish purification rites. Jesus’ instructions were clear:

Jesus: Fill each water pot with water until it’s ready to spill over the top; then fill a cup, and deliver it to the headwaiter.

They did exactly as they were instructed. After tasting the water that had become wine, the headwaiter couldn’t figure out where such wine came from (even though the servants knew), and he called over the bridegroom in amazement.

Headwaiter: This wine is delectable. Why would you save the most exquisite fruit of the vine? A host would generally serve the good wine first and, when his inebriated guests don’t notice or care, he would serve the inferior wine. You have held back the best for last.

Jesus performed this miracle, the first of His signs, in Cana of Galilee. They did not know how this happened, but when the disciples and the servants witnessed this miracle, their faith blossomed.

 

What surprised you about the above reading?  What questions do you have?  Any insights about how these words are landing in your life today?  This week, as you go about your day-to-day life, notice who shows hospitality (restaurants, grocery stores, doctors’ offices, church) ~ where do you feel warmly welcomed and where do you feel overlooked?  May you sense God’s holy hospitality and may others sense that Spirit in you.  Amen.

Prayer