Thoughts on Veteran's Day 2009

Today is Veteran's Day; Armistice Day, as known by some.  In the United States, we pause on this day to remember and be thankful for all those who have served in our military.  Whether you served in a time when military duty was compulsory, you signed-up our of a sense of duty, or you thought of it as a way to pay for college, I want to say thank you.  


Even in times of peace, service in our armed forces are not always ideal.  Periodic deployments mean separation from family.  And in this time in the life of our country when we are men and women serving in the midst of 2 wars, our need to remember, give thanks, and offer prayers is even more poignant.


Two events make this Veterans Day special.  First of all is a point of history.  Observed as Armistice Day, this was originally the day that was to make the end of The War to End All Wars (a.k.a. The Great War, or World War I).  2009 marks the first year that there are no longer any more persons alive who served during that war.  As that war begins to fade in our global, collective memory, may the atrocities of trench warfare and no man's land never fade.  And may we, one day, pay heed to the purpose of Armistice Day observances: that we would remember so that it would never happen, again.


And this Veteran's Day cannot pass with thinking about the Memorial Service yesterday at Ft. Hood, Tx.  Many a commentary has been written about people being deployed for three, four, and possibly even five tours of duty.  I do not want to talk about the merits of that policy.  But what I do want to think about this morning are the people faithfully say yes each day, never knowing what that answer to a call might hold.  I'm sure none of the people at Ft. Hood ever thought a psychiatrist would crack and go on a killing spree.  May God be with our families who lost loved ones.


As I write, I notice that CNN is reporting that a soldier's body has been found.  I pray that it's not the body of the man who was reportedly sold off after wandering away from his unit.


Lastly, I remain mindful and pray for those on this day who have served in the midst of conflict and seek this day to find peace within, acceptance from neighbor, and absolution with God.  


Our veterans are exactly that: ours.  I saw a tweet about the number of uninsured veterans being over 60,000 and I was amazed.  And we cannot help but notice the high percentage of homeless being people who have served in war, especially people who served in the 2nd Gulf War and Afghanistan.  As responsible citizens, not even mentioning people who live up to the example of Jesus, we dare not let these fall through the cracks in our society; not after they have gone where sent and done what was asked of them.  


So please, when ever you see a Veteran today or any other day, say thank you. But take the next step.  Move beyond the sound bite.  I guess that's why I love this PSA: 

Pausing to Consider Blessings

Its hard to believe that we are already approaching Thanksgiving.  It never ceases to amaze me how time flies by.  It only seems like yesterday that we were passing out water at Avondale Estates’ Labor Day race.  And it seems like it was only last week when we were gathered at Cannon Chapel for Joy’s baptism.  Now we are on the verge of celebrating Thanksgiving.  Just yesterday, it startled me that we haven’t made plans for Thanksgiving.

Isn’t it amazing how, if you let yourself get too busy, you cannot pause long enough to even consider what we’re thankful for.  And if you don’t watch out, all of a sudden Thanksgiving has passed and we’re full-bore into Advent before we’ve even given any pause to this wonderful time of the year.

So before we get into the swing of things, I thought it good to pause and consider the blessings of life.

• Having a daughter who loves her “dee” and smiles every time she sees my picture.
• Being married to a wife who loves me “just the way I am”, even if it is one that occasionally goes to bed before all the chores are done around the house.
• Children who play tee ball on a sunny day underneath our pecan grove.
• A staff who understands and practices the model of servant leadership.
• A God who loves me enough to meet me where I am and challenges me to grow, daily.
• Family that supports when needed
• Friends that lend an ear, even when they are on vacation.
• Coaches who believe “the process” isn’t just a marketing tool, but a means of success.
• A church that stepped up to the plate when called upon.
• People with a vision of church as vital partner in the community
• 12 cup coffee makers for early mornings with little sleep
• That there is something interesting on TV when Joy refuses to sleep, speaking of little sleep
• The generation of aspiring clergy coming behind me. You challenge, inspire, and provoke creativity.

I’d say its been a good 2009, so far.  How about you?

Peace,

All Saint's: Living into a Legacy

When ever All Saints rolls around I spend time reflecting.  As a pastor, I think about the the beloved members of the congregation to whom we have said goodbye... well “see you later” is a better way to put it.  I remember their family, the special part of their life that made this congregation so special, and I remember presiding at their funeral.  In addition, I think about those people whom you remember but I never met.  Names that grace windows, plaques placed in commemoration, and story after story that is a witness and testimony to a life well lived.  I pause and thank God for these people, too.  Even though I never knew them, I stand before you today because of them.

But I also walk through this exercise as a “private citizen” each All Saints day.  My mind returns to my childhood and I lift up the names of all the women in the church that would give my mom a respite occasionally, one inviting my brother to sit with her while another would invite me to sit with she and her family.  Doing so would actually allow my poor mother to do something in church besides pinching us hoping that we would act right.  They taught me about hospitality and how we--adults and children--behave in church.

I am also thankful for Sunday School teachers who woke up early and stayed up late in order to prepare lessons that taught me about Jesus, the church, and the Christian faith.    Close behind them are youth chaperones and staff persons who tolerated my horrible teenage years, especially the asking of difficult questions, just for the sake of being difficult.  They taught me that church is a safe place to explore questions.  But more importantly, they taught me that the deep questions of faith resist easy, simplistic answers.  And, more often than we are comfortable with, lead us to even more questions.

Ministers and church professionals who, as a young adult, prayed with me and listened to me are remembered.  Again being patient, they let me unravel and re-spin this amazing thing called ministry and calling until I was ready to embrace what God was asking of me.  They taught me that patience is, indeed, a virtue.

But this year is different.  This year, I am not the newest and youngest generation in my family.  This year I begin that process that will take me through the rest of my life--that of not just being the recipient of a legacy but also having the responsibility of taking all that I have received and pass it on.  

I became aware of this in quite a mystical experience that I still am not sure exactly what to make of.  It goes without saying that my daughter looks a lot like me.  As a matter of fact, people sometimes feel sorry for Susan because she and Joy bear little resemblance to one another, at least when it comes to physical attributes.  But if you think Dave and baby Joy look alike, you need to see pictures of momma Joy.  I promise you, sometimes, the resemblance is nothing short of uncanny.

On top of this, Joy will do something in the morning.  I would be feeding Joy breakfast and her mother would sneak up behind me to make Joy smile and, to be honest, distract her from the task at hand.  It was cute.  But on more than one occasion, she has behaved in such a way... distracted by somebody making faces at her... and when I turn around to let Susan know that I needed to feed her quickly that morning, there was no one there.  I have nothing in my faith system, other than the the belief in the Communion of the Saints, that can confirm what that is.  And I would like to think that the person that Joy sees and is flirting with but I cannot see is none other than her grandmother.  

And in thinking about how comforting such a thought would be, I am reminded of something.  Even though baby Joy will never meet mamma Joy, this woman who she never met will play a large influence upon her life.  For it was my mother that instilled many of the values I hold dear today.  And these are the values which I hope to pass on to my daughter as she grows and matures.

And likewise, every time I gather with the McDonald’s, Susan’s mother’s family, they all remember with fondness their sister-in-law Sarah, who died long before I came into the family.  There’s part of me that longs and grieves even for never had the opportunity to meet her.  I feel this especially when people say, “Dave, you really would have loved X about Sarah”.  

In a way, though, I feel like I know Sarah McDonald.  I know what she valued.  I know the fine people her children are.  And I see the love her widower has for her, even after all these years of their separation since she died.  I know she loved to laugh.  And I know that she doted upon my wife like nobody’s business.  And I benefit from her life, for she made my wife part of who she is and Susan will pass on what she learned from Aunt Sarah to Joy.  And that doesn’t even mention that all of the women in the family have her recipes....

In a few minutes, we will be lighting candles in memory of our beloved members of Avondale Pattillo who have gone to be with God.  We are a recipient of their rich legacy.  Story, hospitality, care, compassion, fellowship, learning together, and growing in faith through Jesus are part of their legacy.  

As we remember them, I invite us to be brave enough to consider the same question that confronts me with my daughter: what will my legacy be.  I might not know exactly what kind of father I want to be, but I have a clear picture of what I don’t want to be and I am determined to say a resounding no to that model of fatherhood.

With our faith, we might not have everything figured out.  Indeed, if any of us claimed to have all the answers, I’m not sure whether I’d be excited or worried.  But we do know the shape of the future, for it is God-shaped.  And we do know the trajectory, for our trajectory arches and leans towards Jesus, his cross, and the empty tomb.  As recipients of this rich history, not just of Christians, not just United Methodists, but of the particular and peculiar people called to be Christian community at the corner of Mountain and Covington, what legacy is Jesus beckoning to pass on, and to whom?

Amen.

Singing on the Train

Every Tuesday morning I meet with a group of pastors for Bible Study and prayer.  This past Tuesday, I made my way back to Avondale the way I usually do: I ride MARTA back to the train station near the church.  Usually, trip is one that is quiet and, sometimes, productive as the near empty train provides an uninterrupted time to write, return emails, or even (if I'm honest) catch a quick power nap.


For some reason, the train this past Tuesday was full.  Having a busy day, it got under my skin that the occupancy of the train forced me to stand, thus preventing me from getting a few things ticked off my to do list.


To make matters even more distracting, people were being chatty on the train.  I guess spending all my growing up years in cities that did not have mass transit or living in the U.K. for a brief spell, but I never have been a fan of people talking on a train.  Its not an antisocial thing.  But its more akin to not talking when in an elevator.


But on this day, my frustration quickly morphed.  There was a guy near me who, though was not talking, he was singing.  He was ad libbing (making it up as he went along).  But  while his lyrics were definitely PG-13 or higher, his voice was simply amazing.  The next stop, he got off the train, singing and enjoying his day.


And you know what, when I got off at my stop I had a smile on my face, thanking God for that man who was not afraid to sing in public.

Looking and Loving

Mark 10:17-31

Our lives of full of things and lists.  I wish I knew how much time and money went into different methods for creating and organizing todo lists, wish lists, call lists, etc.  One of the things that young clergy have to get around their mind is the reality that in our line of work, there is no such thing as an empty list.  Part of what you have to do is get comfortable with doing the things that need to be done while working ahead enough so that at the end of the day you can go to sleep knowing you’ve done your job.

The same is true for all of us, I think.  What do we do when we don’t get our lists done.

One option is to feel like Sisyphus and his rock, never getting anywhere, but keep trying. No change in results.

Another is to imaginatively insert ourselves in the painting Nighthawks where we give up on life, leaving so much potential behind, staring into a cup of coffee at a late night diner.

Another option is to be like the girl on the front of the bulletin.  She’s angry, for whatever reason.  So she’s taking all of her dolls, obviously not sharing, and he going home.  Her face dares you to invite her to share.

When I was a teenager, I was enamored with the musical Les Miserables.  Beyond the music being hauntingly beautiful, I was profoundly moved by the story of redemption.  Many of us know the story of how this many was imprisoned for stealing bread in order to feeding a child.  He gets out of jail and betrays a priest’s kindness by attempting to rob him.  Instead of sending him going back to jail, the priest gives him the items he attempted to steal.

Years later, we see that he’s a successful businessman and mayor of the town in which he lives in.  He adopts the daughter of one of his workers who becomes ill and dies.  And when she grows up, he risks his life to save the life of the man that loves his adult daughter.

In the midst of this wonderful story is an equally intriguing antagonist whose depth I didn’t really understand until I actually saw the show in person.  This man was a guard in the jail.  He just so happened to be a police officer in the town where the freed convict became mayor under an assumed identity.  And he became an inspector... something akin to FBI... where he made it his life’s mission to hunt down a con who was in jail for stealing bread and, upon getting freed, he assumed another identity.  

At one point in the story, this police officer is confronted with a reality he had never considered.  He thought much like this man in today’s Scripture did.  Keep the rules and everything is right with God.  Late in life, he comes to consider the notion that there might be grace active in the world--that sometimes people have good things happen to them that they don’t deserve or that people have bad things or, more specifically, punishments that should be imposed or happen and they do not deserve it or it does not happen.

He could not comprehend such a world.  Its too much for him.  This faithful, religious man who has followed the rules all his life finds the concept of grace so offensive and very much so flying in the face of everything he learned over his life, that he cannot deal with it.  And faced with the option of embracing this new reality of life lived with a concept of grace or ending his life, he chooses to live not in a life where grace happens.

It is much the same with the man who approaches Jesus and calls him good.  He tells Jesus that he has followed the law for all of his life but still wants to know what is necessary to inherit eternal life.  And Jesus’ response, for Mark at least, is a little surprising.  We would expect Jesus to respond like he does on so many occasions to the Disciples when they don’t grasp what his ministry and the good news means.  Time and time again, its almost as if Jesus gets frustrated or exasperated when the disciples fail to understand.

But when this man comes to Jesus and presents his spiritual resume full of rule keeping (which in and of itself is not a bad thing) Jesus doesn’t shake his head.  Jesus doesn’t roll his eyes.  Neither does he send him away or ignore him.  It says that Jesus saw him and loved him.

And only after seeing this man before him for who he was--frustrated that even though he had all of the boxes ticked he still didn’t have assurance of eternal life--that he gave his answer.  Jesus saw this man for who he was.  He was a collector of things.  He collected land (since it was an agrarian economy), he collected wealth and possession, and he collected successful weeks, months, and years of keeping the law.  And now he’s trying to collect one more thing: an assurance from Jesus.

Seeing this, Jesus the Great Physician gives his prescription.  Loving him, wanting him to become that which God created him to be, he tells him that eternal life is something he cannot collect.  And not only is it something he cannot collect but in order to obtain it, he must change his life.  He must stop pursuing collections and possessions so that he can obtain eternal life.  And, he must rid himself of all that clutter his frantic collecting has accumulated.

I know you think you know what’s coming next.  We, too must get rid of our possessions so that we, too, can eternal into eternal life.

Well, maybe.

This day, Jesus sees each one of us.  And part of that is seeing us for who we are deep down inside.  He sees our potential, our love, what we are passionate about, and what we value.  But Jesus looks at us and sees what annoys us, what we place as important in life (more important than him).  He also sees what we obsess about and what relationships we say are more valuable than that primary relationship between us and God.  He sees our anger, hurts and wounds we wear on our sleeve, falsely believing that if it wasn’t for them nobody, maybe including God, would notice us.

But just like with the man in Scripture, upon seeing us, Jesus does not get exasperated or frustrated.  He loves us.  And he gives us our prescriptions, too.

Recently, Joy has learned to crawl, which is a blessing and, well, let’s just say a whole new level of reality in the Allen Grady home.  Before she crawled, I could leave her in the den for a brief period while I went and answered the phone or changed over clothes from the washing machine to the dryer.  She was satisfied by her toys.  But now, that no longer works.  She crawls over the the step up into the foyer and, not being able to go any further to her goal (being in a parent’s company) she lets out this most pitiful cry.

Well, the first time this happened, Susan and I ran into the foyer, expecting to see something tragic, maybe even including injury.  But there she was, trapped.  She couldn’t get up onto the level of foyer without help.  So we picked her up and helped her get up to the next level.

Its the same way.  Moved to compassion, Jesus wants us to be free of the obstacle that prevents us from getting closer to God.  And he will do anything to free us from that which traps us.

So maybe it is money and possession that keeps us from gaining eternal life.  But maybe it could be not letting go of anger, hurt, or depression.  Maybe the freedom that Jesus wants to offer us is a freedom from the need to be right or the freedom to be successful.  

Whatever the case, this freedom is a freedom offered not out of demand or of intolerance.  After all, we are told that the man walked away mourning.  I take that to mean he did not head Jesus’ invitation that day.  We are given the same option.  We have free will; we can say no to Jesus.

We can continue things status quo going about our lives unchanged.  But the invitation is there.  It remains.  It never goes away.  Jesus sees us, loves us, and desires for us to live something truer, more real, and definitely more graceful than what we do today.

Will we walk away mournful like the rich man in Scripture? Or will we look back into Jesus’ eyes, smile, and say yes to the invitation.

Amen.

World Communion/ Children's Sabbath

Mark 10:2-16

It is by no accident that our worship service today has the double focus of our World Communion celebration as well as our observance of Children’s Sabbath.  Most years, our celebration is an opportunity to be mindful of our interconnectedness with followers of Jesus all around the world.  In that celebration we acknowledge diversity of worship practices and cultural traditions united in a saving faith in Jesus Christ.  Likewise, our observance of Children’s Sabbath is a clarion call of the responsibility our baptism places on our lives, specifically when it comes to the plight of children.  We have brought to our attention the reality of the appalling conditions children find when they live in the midst of war, when they live in refugee camp, and when they live in a country that allows for the exploitation of children by placing them in the workforce.

This weekend, we are particularly aware of children in Indonesia, Samoa, the Philippines,  and even our own state as they find themselves living in the aftermath of horrendous natural disasters.  Homes will have to be rebuilt.  Communities will have to be reformed.  Possession will have to be reacquired.  But beyond that, wholeness will have to be found as children come to grips with a parent that died in floods or earthquakes.

As important an issue as that is, that is not the direction I want us to take this morning.  This morning, I want us to be mindful of that global interconnectedness blesses us and calls us to action in our community.  Each week, we welcome the children that are in our midst.  My daughter, Ariana, and Jonathan usually are among the numbers we count as present.  

Likewise, this morning, our grandchildren, great grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and cousins are being taught in Sunday School and included in worship in other locales.  And we thank God for the people that do that in our stead.  That entrusting is a recognition of the interconnected nature of our World Communion.  But the other side of the coin is true: part of our interconnected nature in our World Communion is the recognize that the children in our community are our responsibility.

Jesus said let the little children come to him and he blessed them.  Well guess what, Jesus can’t bless them if they are not coming to him.  I know that sounds simple, but lets look at this another way:

My grandfather always told me that who I was going to spend the rest of my life with was the second most important decision a person could make.  One day, i asked my grandfather what the most important decision was and he chuckled.  He looked at me and said, “why, its the decision the accept Jesus into your heart.”

The reason I never thought about that wasn’t that I never thought about church, just the opposite--I always grew up in church.  Following Jesus was as much as decision in my life as breathing or whether or not I had to clean my plate before I got dessert.

But that is not the case anymore.  We live in a country where 70% of the population believes in God.  But we live in a community where less than 40% of the population attends church on a given Sunday.  Friends, that means there’s a lot of parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins for whom we are not holding up our end.  

But more importantly, there are children in our very midst for whom we have been entrusted to share the good news of Jesus Christ and we have yet to do so.  And if not us, then who?

But beyond this mandate which rises from the Bible and is articulated in the United Methodist Church’s mission: to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the Transformation of the World, why are we to do this?

I mean, after all, when we share the good news of Jesus with children and we welcome them to their rightful place in this community, it will get noisy from time to time, pew racks get messy, there’s the occasional crumb on the floor, and there are little handprints on freshly painted walls.  On top of that, the songs and instruments we choose for church might change, how and when we deliver the sermon might not be the same as it is today.  How we treat others might be more important than what we wear.  And we might have to do things at times and in locations that might not be convenient to us.

But why would we want to do that, all because “for the Bible tells me so?”

If the mandate of Scripture is not convincing, there is another reason.  You see, our lives are changed when we engage people, especially children in ministry.  Much like the past 10 months have made my late-70’s in-laws at least 10 years younger than their birth certificate says, welcome children--no that’s not active enough--going out, finding and bringing in the children (and their parents) into our midsts engages part of our minds, bodies and spirits that adults do not and cannot.  And I believe that these are the reasons why children are a gift from God.

Children bring with them a beautiful sense of wonder in even the littlest of things that we find mundane.  Wouldn’t we like to have some of that, ourselves?  Children have this innate sense of creativity.  How many times have you given a child a present and they play with the wrapping and packaging more than the present?  Children teach us something about what we value.  And children have this wonderful sense of play.  We feel like we have to be responsible all the time but children know that God is an artist and much like there was something playful about the creative actions at the beginning of time, there is something that expresses God’s nature when we are at play, too.

All of this is gift from God.  On this World Communion Sunday, let us be mindful of the children in our midst, both in this room and in this community.  And let us be thankful for the challenge they put before us as well as what they can teach.

Trusting

Mark 9:38-50

As we continue our series on discipleship, we turn our attention towards something that gets us all: trust.

Have you every woken up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, afraid you forgot something to do at work? Or maybe last week, you sat up in in the middle of the night, willing to put your hand on the Bible that you hear water leaking into your home only to find everything dry and not a drop in sight.

Possibly you’ve been on vacation. As soon as the door to the airplane closes and the fasten seatbelt sign comes on, you start questioning yourself as to whether or not you left the air conditioner on 72. or worse yet, you worry that you left the iron plugged in.

No doubt about it. Part of the human condition is that we let things nag at us. How about this one: have you ever been driving down the road having a great day, and your mind wanders into some embarrassing memory from years ago and, much like getting a song stuck in our heads, that embarrassing moment gets stuck on a feedback loop in our heads. And it eats at us.

Something very similar, I think, is we worry about our faith--our relationship with Jesus Christ. Sometimes we are on spiritual mountain tops. Other times we are in the middle. And yet, at other times, we find ourselves in valleys. When we are in those valleys, many questions creep into our mind and begin, if we are not careful, to permeate our soul (much like the water did in many of our basements).

We begin to wonder about many things about our faith: do I really believe what I say I believe? God, are you really there? Am I saved? I keep on trying to do this faith thing and yet it just seems to get harder and harder. And what about that “name it, claim it” theology church down the street. I know I don’t really believe what they profess but, even still, they are growing. The list could go on and on.

And we’d be in good company. As United Methodists we speak often about John Wesley and his Aldersgate experience, where his heart was “strangely warmed” and, for the first time in his life, he felt the love of God in his heart. Well, the funny thing about it is, if we read all the different version of Wesley’s journals, his mind changed. Sometimes he embraced that experience, sometimes her refuted it, and sometimes he was in the middle about it. But, whatever the case, it kept annoying him, spiritually.

And I think that some of that exact same ind of thing is what happened to John in today’s Scripture Lesson. He’s been following Jesus and he has been witness to some amazing things. But then he runs into these other folks, who it appears he doesn’t know. And they are running around the countryside doing the same thing that Jesus’ disciples are: doing deeds of power in Jesus’ name.

I can hear John’s internal monologue, “wait a tick. I thought only the 12 of us were on Jesus’ inside. Who’s he? And if he’s a disciple of Jesus, then who am I?”

Obviously, whatever the questions running through John’s mind were, they were getting in the way of his ministry. Jesus goes into this harsh language that we’re more than a little uncomfortable with about stumbling blocks and about what holds us back.

What holds you back from being that child of God that you have been called to be? Is it shame--a many times amplified and possibly serious version of that embarrassing moment track that sometimes invades our consciousness? Do we let ourselves be weighed down by a lack of security. And by security I mean a plethora of things--financial security that keeps our fist clenched instead of having an extended hand, personal security in that we worry about our own wellbeing to the point where we don’t want to engage with anyone that is either not “like us” or cannot help help us.

Or maybe we’re like John. We look at our lives and then we look at the lives of another. And in that looking we appraise ourselves and think we find ourselves lacking. Friends, Paul said that the Christian faith is akin to running a race. But there is nothing about the Christian faith that is a competition or competitive. The only place we are to outdo one another is outdoing one another in love... and loving one another does not promote competitive behavior.

I heard a story about Serena Williams, the tennis start. She has become infamous for her tirade at the US Open. She’s released a book recently. In that book she says that while she is on the court playing against her sister in a match, they are no longer sisters. How sad. How petty.

In fact, all of this questioning and haunting insecurities have their root in one thing: pettiness.

Friends, pettiness can be our stumbling block. Jesus uses strong words to encourage us to remove that which holds us back, that which keeps us petty. Now, I don’t think Jesus literally invites people to self-mutilation. But I do think sometimes when we lay down our insecurities, our jealousy, and our anger it can be akin to some of the things Jesus told us.

If we stopped gossiping, we’d be forced to deal with our own insecurities. If we put down our anger at someone, we might be able to see them as a child of God. If we trusted God’s promises to us in Jesus, then we would begin to stop seeing life as a competition and begin to be free to live in response to God’s amazing grace in Jesus.

But some might ask, why should I let go of that stumbling block. I’ve carried it with me all this way in my Christian walk. If I don’t keep on placing this stumbling block in front of me every now and then, I don’t know how I’d go on. I’m not sure what I would do with all that unused time and strength.

And this is where we get to this third teaching of Jesus about salt. If we are wrapped up in ourselves and jealous of others, that is a stumbling block. We need to get rid of it so that we can be effect children of God.

Now, I’m not entirely sure of how salt loses its saltiness. But I do know that if salt isn’t salty its no good. Likewise, if my TV, radio, or computer stops working, it ceases to perform its function. I need to get it working again. If we lose our “saltiness”, our earthly good, because we are so focused on the plight of others that we become petty or jealous, we stopped being of any benefit to God’s reality.

Through Jesus, there is so much potential in each of us. God desires so much to perform mighty deeds. But only if we remain salty. And the only way we remain salty is if we have faith enough to trust, not just in the good times but also in those trying times. God has not dealt unfairly with us. God has kept God’s promises. The only question is, will we live into the freedom that trust brings.

Amen.