He quickly packed up a few personal items and important business records, leaving behind a lifetime of possessions that we both agreed was just stuff. And stuff can be replaced, right? But we both knew it was more than that.
 
Had Milton stayed on course, Mike’s life would’ve been forever changed. If you’ve ever lost everything—whether to a house fire, divorce, or an eviction—you can probably sympathize not just with Mike but also the man Jesus encounters in today’s reading.

A man with many possessions comes and bows down at Jesus’s feet. He wants to know what he has to do to inherit eternal life. And Jesus seems almost dismissive. He gives the man a quick run-down of the usual religious stuff, which the guy has been doing religiously his whole life.
 
Mark writes, Jesus looks at the man lovingly which sounds sweet until you realize he’s just preparing the guy for a shock of a lifetime - instructing him to sell everything he owns and give the money to the poor. Don’t keep one penny of the proceeds. If you own a house, or car, or have a retirement fund then this is probably the stop you get off at, right.
 
Mark said the man went away grieving because he had a lot of possessions. I think there’s more to his sorrow. No matter how much he accumulated, he still lacked something. He spent his whole life practicing his faith, yet his heart remained empty. Perhaps you can relate.
 
We live in a materialistic culture that measures most things in monetary terms. We are inundated by ads tempting us to believe that if we have this or that then our life will be better off. To hear Jesus say liquidate our 401k’s and give the proceeds away to the poor, our first instinct is to hightail it outta there.
 
In his book, The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “Discipleship can only be maintained as long as nothing is allowed to come between Christ and ourselves – neither the law, personal piety, or even the world.” 
 
Before we are quick to judge this rich young man, here’s something we ought to consider. In the ancient world, material prosperity was widely seen as a reward for one’s spiritual virtue. Similar to the prosperity gospel preached today, his wealth suggested he did everything right to make God blessed him so handsomely. Even the disciples were shocked to learn someone like him didn’t just automatically inherit eternal life.
 
The thing is, we don’t buy or barter our way into heaven. It’s not up to us or anyone else. It’s up to God, whose steadfast love and unconditional grace has already cleared the way forward for anyone who wants in. So why then did the guy walk away?
 
I think it’s because Jesus just awoken in him what life and eternal life look like in God’s Kingdom. It’s not about following laws until the end of the ages. Nor is it about the quantity of stuff we accumulate. Instead, it’s quality of our giving that stuff away – including ourselves.
 
It’s about connecting with the ageless values of God – to care for the poor and needy with all that we have; to practice justice and mercy with a humble and faithful heart. This is what it means to follow Jesus. It’s not about making a deal with God. It’s about making a difference so others can see God’s glory shine through me and you.
 
Discipleship is less about checking off a list of religious obligations. And more about following the Way of Jesus that leads to an abundant and everlasting life beginning with the life we are given right here in the space between us and them.
 
Jesus offers this man something greater than all the stuff he possesses. But to receive this wonderful new gift entails letting go of the old life he knew and loved. No wonder the guy walks away upset.
 
When we moved to Michigan, I had to get rid of a bunch of old stuff I’d collected and carried with me for years. Beautiful, mid-century modern furniture, and kitschy knick-knacks that had defined me, like my old job had. Watching my past drive off in someone else’s car, I realized that I’m not defined by what I own, but by who owns me: God.
 
In that moment, I felt a part of me leave as well, which took time to get over. Still, what has remained, is God’s love that continues to carry me forward.
 
Now, on another note, this young man wasn’t simply giving up his wealth, but all the power and prestige that came with it. Letting it go would mean he would be left completely naked and socially insignificant. The guy walked away upset because he took these words to heart knowing his life will never be the same again. But isn’t that the point?

​The Way of Jesus is all about transformation – from the inside out. It changes the way we see ourselves in relationship with God and others, in every aspect of life.

We are all created in God’s image. And God can’t help but love that part of us, no matter who we are or what we’ve done. God’s love and grace is so immense that we can’t fully grasp it if our hands and heart are already full of other stuff.

​Jesus calls us to empty ourselves completely so we can be filled completely until we overflow with God’s glory. Spilling mercy and love and kindness and generosity like a toddler carrying a glass of milk.
 
Moving on in the story, if we only gauge what happens by the dialog that follows between Jesus and the twelve, it’s easy to assume this man ignored what was asked of him. But did he? A few chapters later, Mark adds this one very odd verse that comes out of left field. Such verses are there to tell us to stop and pay close attention. It appears on the night Jesus is arrested in the garden.

​Mark writes, “A certain young man was following him, wearing nothing but a linen cloth. They caught hold of him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked” (Mark 14:51).
 
Most scholars believe this naked man is Mark writing himself into the story, which was a common practice in those days. If that were true, then I would argue Mark’s real story began at Jesus’ feet where he questioned his inheritance.
 
Like so many others who encountered Jesus in their life, this wild nudist realized the value of what Jesus has to offer, and literally gave up everything to possess it. He took Jesus’ words to heart, and faithfully followed him – just as he had been following the commandments his whole life.

In the end, the young man got what he desired the most. His story lives on in three of the four gospels. And continues to live with us - challenging our call to discipleship.
 
This story invites us to take a serious look at the things that hold us back from embracing the life God wants for us on this side of heaven. I’m not just talking about letting go of money or material possessions.
 
It’s easy to give away clothes and furniture to those in need, especially after a natural disaster like a hurricane or fire. If we want to live a truly transformed life, then we have to let go of stuff that’s holding us back from embodying it. Things like resentment, prejudice, and limiting beliefs.
 
Remember Jesus doesn't tell the man to be perfect or even religious. He just said get rid of the things that keep you from faithfully following him embracing a way of life that’s all about loving God, loving others, and serving both. Discipleship is not about saying or believing the right thing.
 
It’s about confronting and letting go of the idols of our hearts, be it wealth, status, or self-sufficiency. It’s about giving up everything that takes our focus and trust off God. The stuff, that Jesus says, make it “easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter into the Kingdom of God.”
 
What is getting in your way to seeing this kingdom from being revealed to you, right here and right now? What’s stopping you from loving others unconditionally? What’s keeping you from living faithfully by making God’s love come alive in the flesh so no one is without?
 
Jesus gave up everything he had so we could experience the divine economy of grace. Through him we receive abundantly so we can give generously, and fearlessly, and faithfully. Jesus said it so succinctly when he told his disciples to “love one another as God first loved you.”
 
Love is the way we not only transform ourselves, but the world and communities we are a part of. For when we are able to truly love one another, and share all our peace and prosperity with everyone, we will not only gain the world, but all the treasures of heaven.

​

Works Cited
Bartlett, David L., Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Feasting on the Word: Year B, Vol. 4. . Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2009.
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. The Cost Of Discipleship. New York: McMillian, 1949.
Haverkamp, Heidi. "Reflections on the Lectionary." Christian Century, 09 26, 2018: 20.
Kesselus, Ken. Possessions. 09 21, 2018. http://episcopaldigitalnetwork.com/stw/2018/09/21/possessions-pentecost-21-b-october-14-2018/ (accessed 10 12, 2018).

Some of my childhood friends were not so lucky. Many were still sifting through the aftermath of Hurricane Helene when Hurricane Milton reared its ugly head, gaining strength as it hovered over the warm Gulf of Mexico.
 
In moments like these, when warnings from FEMA and government officials still echoing in our ears, I think of the Old Testament prophets who called out to the Israelites, urging them to turn back to God in the face of danger. And as I watch the news reports of the aftermath, I picture the exiles who returned home to find their land ravaged.
 
An ancient psalmist wrote these words of hope: “God is our  refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1). This particular verse has been a lifelong mantra that’s gotten me through various upheavals in my life.

And then there is, of course, Jesus’ contemplative question. “Why do you worry” about earthly possessions that can be easily destroyed, I am remind to “store your treasures in heaven” (Matthew 6:19-21). Whatever storm you are facing, these timeless truths have served as pillars of my faith that I think can really help us find calm in the midst of the chaos and storms of life.
 
As I watched news of the storm's damage, I recall the ancient prophets witnessing something spectacular in the returning exiles - a hope filled community, ready to rebuild. Their story serves as a powerful reminder of the Church’s calling to be a beacon of faith, hope, and resilience in the face of adversity.
 
It’s in this space, when the world feels like it is falling apart, we’re called to stand together as a faithful community, ready to serve and build the Kingdom of God. By trusting in God's providence and supporting one another, we can rise above the rubble and emerge stronger from every storm.

I think the answer is simply this:Jesus knew God would be doing all the heavy lifting. If they just trust God and stay faithful to the gospel, things will fall into place.

Today, as we celebrate World Communion Sunday, we are going to look at another meal, that reveals some things about God that will help us stay the course both as Christ followers and as his Church. It comes from the last chapter of John's gospel.

As the story begins, it's been 40 days since Easter and the disciples are already back to their old jobs. They are not fishing for people, like Jesus called them to do…but they’re fishing for actual fish. Now, Jesus goes to meet his friends back where he first called them - at the beach.
 
The sun’s light is just beginning to glow. The water is glassy and still. A light fog gives it an eerie calm as a chill slices through the silence. There’s a slow, melodic heartbeat on the shoreline. The steady rhythm of small waves lapping upon the rocks and shells. With the damp sand squishing between his toes,  Jesus calls out to the guys fishing about 100 yards offshore.
 
Again, like he did when he first met them, he tells them where to cast their net. It’s a very naked Simon Peter who first reacts when they recognize the familiar voice. Typical of him, he doesn’t hesitate. He just takes off. Jumping overboard and rushing towards his friend. The others quickly follow.
 
Now besides the location and the calling of his friends, John has woven all sorts of other beautiful symbolism into this story. And if we rush through it to get to the end, we might miss it.

For example, notice it’s Jesus who is waiting for his disciples to come home from work which, again, isn’t going so well. Although he’s patiently waiting, Jesus can’t help himself – nudging them in the right direction to get their catch.
 
For one last time, John wants us to know that through Christ, God is present with us; waiting, nudging, and navigating us through the challenges we will face in life.
 
Next, Jesus isn’t just idly standing by hoping to be noticed. He’s been there for a while, making a fire and preparing breakfast for his friends. This simple, mundane task is ripe with symbolism.
Beginning with the fire itself.
 
In scripture, fire is the symbol of the Holy Spirit.  Like the pillar of fire that guided Israel through the wilderness, or the flames that swirled above the crowd on Pentecost when we see fire, we know God is with us – illuminating our way, and awakening our hearts and minds to see the Divine all around us.

​Here Jesus is the one making the fire. The one bringing the Holy Spirit to us.
 
Another thing about this fire is it’s not made with pieces of driftwood found along the beach. John makes a point to say it’s a charcoal fire. And charcoal isn’t commonly found buried in the sand. Given the early morning hour, we can assume the charcoal store isn’t open which means Jesus had to carry the dirty, bulky load with him...as well as all the breakfast fixin’s.
 
Now there are only two places in the New Testament where we find a charcoal fire. Both are in John’s gospel.

The first is in the courtyard of the high priest where Peter denies Jesus three times. The second is here on the beach, where Jesus will redeem Peter three times for his betrayal. The symbolism of this fire reminds us that through Christ, the Spirit of God not only carries the load, but is always with us, always ready to redeem us.
 
The next symbols might seem obvious. So much so that they could easily be overlooked. And that’s the meal itself – fish and bread. Does it remind you of anything? They were on the menu when Jesus fed the multitudes.
 
As the story goes, a massive crowd came to hear Jesus speak. Apparently no one expected him to talk as long as he did, because no one but a little boy brought anything to eat. The boy offers all that he has to Jesus to help feed the people - a few fish and some bread.

​With this gift of generosity, a miracle happens. What is revealed to us in that story is that through Christ, God feeds our hunger with such great abundance that there’s more than enough leftovers for everyone.

 
John tells us a similar thing happened at the beach that morning. You may have noticed Jesus doesn’t feed his friends his fish. Instead, he instructs them to bring their catch to him. What does this say about Jesus’ expectations for us, and our ministry? To bring people to him.
 
Again, Peter is quick to respond – running to the net and hauling the bounty across the sand by himself. I’m sure that wasn’t easy given the amount of fish…153 to be exact. If each fish weighed 3 pounds, which wouldn’t be unthinkable, then such a load would seem impossible to handle by oneself. Even though the net was weighed down and dragged over shells and rocks, it didn’t tear or break.
 
Why did John feel the need to tell us these things? First of all, Jesus called fishermen. And instructed them to be fishers of people. The way I see it, these fish represent the world. And the net represents those Jesus calls to continue his ministry. That’s you and me. We know what Jesus is asking of us isn’t going to be easy.
 
Loving people can weight you down, and drag you through uncomfortable situations. But I think John wants us to know that no matter what God calls us to do, God’s nets are unbreakable. Through Christ, God equips us to do the work we’re called to do. And like I said earlier, God does all the heavy lifting.
 
Which takes us to the last symbol I want to talk about the bread being warmed by the fire.
From Israel’s exodus out of Egypt to the Last Supper, bread always symbolizes something greater than physical food. It represents God’s Word.

Like Jesus said when tempted in the wilderness, “People do not live by bread alone; but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.”

You might recall that John describes Jesus both as the Word of God and the Bread of Life. Whenever we see Jesus and bread together, we know something holy and sacred is happening.
 
In this story, it’s in the sharing of bread Jesus give his final instructions to Peter and the gang: “If you love me, feed my lambs and tend to my sheep.” While this is part of Peter’s redemption, it becomes the very core of the church’s identity.
 
Through this simple meal given to us by Christ, God is present, guiding and caring for us, equipping us and sending us to love and serve God and one another. 

As the world gathers to partake in this holy feast, we are reminded that Jesus is the bread that is broken for all who seek to feast on God’s abundant life and salvation.

​Whatever your need is — relational, spiritual, physical, or emotional, — come and meet Christ here at this table. Joining with others from around the world, and across a wide spectrum of faith practices, political alliances, and socioeconomic levels.
 
Many have come from the East and the West, the North and the South to partake in this simple meal of bread and wine. Everyone is invited to join as you are able. This is not our table, but God’s, set by Jesus himself who unites us all, as one people, speaking one truth with one universal language which is love; specifically, God’s love.
 
Come to this feast, not because you have to, but because you want to experience God’s love in the flesh. Whether you’re full of faith or filled with questions, there is enough for everybody. And no one will be sent away hungry.

You know those mornings when you wake up feeling like a superhero, empowered to face anything life can throw at you?

Well, that's what I felt on Tuesday. I was up early, coffee brewing, and had my day all planned out. Even Cali, my wonderful and trusty pup, was excited to get outside early before the sun had time to fire up.
 
As I was putting her leash on, I noticed the sprinklers weren't going off. No biggie, I thought. I'll just add that to my list. I had extra time and was in superhero mode. After a leisurely visit to park to meet with up with friends, Cali and I were back home, ready to tackle the day. Including this unexpected sprinkler issue.

It took me no time to isolate the problem and just as quick I started digging. The yard was a little more recilant than I anticipated. But superhero mode went into overdrive and before long the hard ground was puddy in my hands.

Then... bam!

Water shot up into the sky. That buried rock I thought I was wrestling with turned out to be the main waterline for the entire system. My perfectly planned day was officially kaput. It's a funny thing, isn't it? How life often throws us curve balls when we least expect them. 

As my yard began to turn to mud, I began to think about those guys in the Bible who were fishing when Jesus walked on wet sandy shoreline. One minute those guys are catching fish, the next minute they're following Jesus. Same thing with Matthew – one minute he's collecting taxes, the next he's a disciple.

I've learned a lot from experiences like this (after all, it's not the first time I've hit this sprinkler line). When life springs up in your face, it's important to be in the present moment. And to know where you buried the shut-off valve. It's good to live in the moment, rather than getting too caught up in plans. Because, we all know how things just sometime happen. And it's not always good.  
 
Of course, Jesus wasn't just talking about the hole in my backyard when he said, "Be ready." He was talking about something much deeper. He was saying, be prepared for whatever life throws your way. Be awake, alert, and ready to respond to God's call. "You never know when the master of the house is going to return."

But the way I see this, isn't so much to be prepared for the "second-coming" or the "apocalypse" that we seem to be creating ourselves. I see it as a time to be with God in this present time and space because this is where life happens in real time. It's where good things happen. And where bad things happen. And not just to me. But to other people as well. People need our help.

Which means this is the space where God needs us to be. Right here. Right now. Covered in mud and water, ready to do whatever God needs us to do.

Maybe we' ve failed an entire generation of tomorrow's great business leaders by not preparing them to for the working world. After all, their generation learned from us. But I still think there's some hope out. According to Facebook creator Mark Zuckerberg who recently said in an interview, “raw talent and a positive attitude matter more than credentials.”

I think that’s why Jesus never gave up on or fired his disciples, who let's face it weren’t the brightest students in their class. Despite their inabilities to do anything right, their hearts were in the right place. And they always showed up ready to go – even when they had no idea what they were doing.

As we will see in Mark's gospel, such enthusiasm has its strengths. But it also has some pitfalls we need to be aware of.

Imagine being part of an exclusive group. You’re the experts, the chosen ones who understand something no one else does. Then, you find out someone else is doing the same thing you're doing.
 
What would you do if you discovered someone was copying what you were doing without your permission? Send them a cease and desist letter?  Or maybe join forces, combing your talent and knowledge to do greater things?
 
This is what the disciples were faced with. They thought they were the only ones authorized to cast out demons in Jesus’s name. They felt special, privileged. But when they discovered others could do the same thing, they got upset.
 
Like Ron Adams wrote, it’s as if they wanted to “copyright their actions on behalf of the gospel. Rather than being glad that there is at least one other person out there fighting the good fight, they get all possessive.”
 
Their upset reminds me of the story of a Congregational minister who finds himself at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter greets him saying, “It’s nice to another faithful soul joining us… we have prepared Room 24 for your eternal stay. But please do me a favor and be very, very quiet when you pass Room 8.”
 
When the minister asks why, St. Peter says, “The Baptists are in Room 8. They think they’re the only ones here.”

The disciples thought they had exclusive rights to Jesus and his power.  They didn’t seem to realize they belong to God. Not the other way around.
 
Jesus will go on to describe their “us versus them” mentality as stumbling blocks barriers to our faith that need to be removed before they cause eternal damage. Jesus knows that viewing outsiders as threats not only leads to more exclusion and conflict, but it also keeps people from discovering or growing closer to God.
 
And what is more dangerous? Allowing someone to do something good for the good of the world? Or to block someone from finding their faith?
 
Once again, the Twelve completely miss the point of Jesus’ mission - to bring God’s salvation to the world. And they still don’t have a clue what discipleship is all about: to share that good news and God’s redemptive love with everyone.
 
Just as Jesus erased the line between heaven and earth, he calls us to erase the lines between “us” and “them.”  This isn’t a zero-sum game. God’s grace is unimaginably vast, available to all who seek it. No church, doctrine, or individual gets to dictate who God loves. And that’s a good thing.
 
A few days ago, a friend shared a post that stated,  “Our goal isn’t to bring people to Christianity, the goal is to bring people to love. If that’s through Christianity, fine. If it’s another religion or no religion at all, fine. What the world needs is love, not more people professing right belief.”
 
This got me thinking, when does our faith, our belief, become a stumbling block for others? I think the answer comes to us the moment we stop loving God, loving others, and serving both.
 
Jesus tells us to love and not reject; to welcome the other, not separate ourselves from them. If someone is doing good in his name—even if they’re not part of the group—let them. It’s better to have them doing good than doing harm or speaking negatively about God.

Jesus constantly challenges us to look inward, at our own hearts and intentions, instead of judging others. He knows we all have something inside that keeps us from faithfully living out our Christ likeness. Peter had denial. Thomas had doubt. James and John had ego problems. And where do I even begin with Judas?
 
Maybe you’re carrying a childhood trauma, a regret, or fear that is holding you back from embracing your faith and living out God’s will. I know I’ve spent too much of my life comparing myself to others, which has only left me feeling “less than” and full of doubt. 
 
The weight of that cross gets harder and harder to bear. I can’t do it alone. No one can. Just as a surgeon can’t operate on themselves, I lean on Jesus for help.

Through him, I have discovered and experienced the very heart of God, whose steadfast love and mercy transforms our pain and struggles into everlasting life. Which is precisely why I think God gives it away to everyone who wants it because each and everyone of us needs it.
 
As a follower of Jesus, my only job is to remove the things that cause me, and others, to stray off from being with God. I don’t get to decide who can and cannot do good in Jesus’ name. It's not like he needs bodyguards to protect him. Or bouncers to select from a line of people who can receive his grace and who gets left out in the cold.

When we act like gatekeepers, all we’re doing is building walls around God instead of becoming bridges that lead others to him.
 
How quickly the Twelve forgot what Jesus taught them about who belongs to God’s family. He said, “Anyone who does the will of my Father is my brother, sister, and mother.” Anyone and everyone—regardless of background or experience— is invited to the heavenly feast. So why put barriers in someone’s way?
 
Jesus doesn’t need more Christians. He needs more faithful people who will love like he loves, forgives like he does. He invites us to participate in the kingdom of heaven, right now; to bring God’s love and light into every space we enter, starting in that space within ourselves.
 
Raul Sandoval reminds us, “We don’t need to be the most resourced or educated; we just need to have a heart and go for the kingdom stuff… that God uses to transform people and communities.”
 
In other words, Jesus doesn’t need perfect people. He just needs us to show up : to be like him, to follow his ways, and to engage with the world in his name. The Twelve weren’t the most polished or professional, but they had faith, and showed up long after Jesus was gone.
 
They were faithful and committed, and that’s what truly matters. I hope you remember this as you go out into the world, you don’t need to have it all together; you just need a small drop of faith and a big open heart.
 
So, let’s kick open the doors of our hearts, removing any obstacles—including our own biases and judgments—that keep others from experiencing God’s glory.

As I have learned over the years, when I get myself out of my own way I begin to see the true power of what God can do through my imperfections; showering the world in love.
 
The way I see it, if God can love you and me, then God can love anyone.  And who am I, or who are we as a church, to stand in the way of God?
 
 

​
Work Cited:
Adapted from Don’t Be Trippin’ Dude, (9-26-2021).
Adams, Ron. Lectionary for the Week. The Christian Century, September 23, 2024.  (accessed on Sept. 26, 2024).
Rosa Royle, Orianna. Bosses are firing Gen Z grads just months after hiring them. Fortune, Sep 26, 2024 (accessed on sept 26, 2024).

Out of sheer desperation the man shouts up to God looking for mercy.
 
Now, how do you think God responds to this deeply painful cry for help? Depending on how you see yourself this song, the answer could be interpreted at least two ways.

​One perspective sees God as a stern judge who looks down upon the drunk. In disgust, God picks up an index card and begins to scribble down all the sins this drunk has committed that led up to this tragic moment.

Then God hands the card to an angel who rushes it to a warehouse filled with countless white cards just like this one. Everything this drunk has ever done is all being safely stored there until that fateful day he’s brought before God in judgment.
 
This is a widely held understanding in many Christian circles – one that leaves people full of anxiety and fear about their worthiness, and deeply skews their relationship with God, and not in any health way.
 
But there’s another perspective. One where God looks beyond this man mistakes, to his emptiness and despair. God feels the man’s pain and has empathy. God knows the drunkard’s story because God has walked with people just like him. People whose bad choices have made their life a living hell.
 
In this view, rather than condemning the man, God picks up a pencil and begins to erase his index card clean.

​From the first time when Abel’s blood cried out for justice, God has responded to our cries for mercy. In today's reading, we'll see how Jesus’ response reveals something important about God’s heart.

Like the man in the song, Bartimaeus finds himself desperate and on his knees, longing for healing. Life as a blind beggar has not been kind to him. I suspect most of us can relate in one way or another. Life can be cruel. In so many ways it leaves us blind and broken, crying out in dire need of God’s healing touch.
 
Now, let’s step back and put ourselves in the drunkard’s shoes. But this time, you’re holding the index card with everything you’ve done (or left undone), let’s say over the last couple of days.

If you view God as a strict judge, you might hesitate to cry out because it means you will have to present this card - fearing what God might do.

What does this answer say about your faith? Or lack of faith? More importantly, what does it say about God? Or God’s faithfulness?
 
Now, put yourself in Bartimaeus' shoes. Although your condition has reduced you to become a lowly beggar, there’s something inside you that causes you to proudly stand, with your card in your hand, and yell to Jesus. Something in you recognizes him as the Son of David, a title laden with expectation and hope.
 
Even though the crowd tries to shut you up, you’re relentless. Their doubts can’t silence you any longer. You got one shot to present yourself, as you are, and you take it. And Jesus notices and stops, asking, “What do you want me to do for you?” 
 
How do you answer? Would you respond with fear and trembling? Or like Bartimaeus who doesn’t let anything stop him from answering. He just wants to see again. And something inside him says Jesus can make that happen. We know what that something is because Jesus, without any hesitation, tells him “Go; your faith has made you well.”
 
Like so many other people Jesus meets, it was faith that healed this man’s blindness. It was his faith that allowed him to see who Jesus is. The one God sent to save us from ourselves.

As Brennan Manning wrote, “Jesus comes for sinners, for us who are outcast or caught up in squalid choices and failed dreams.” That could be any one of us.
 
Now, imagine had Bartimaeus feared God, instead of trusting in what God is capable of doing? Fear blinds us from truly seeing the beauty of God’s grace and love that Jesus offers.

​But faith is the antidote to fear.

This sermon is different than what you are reading. I decided to say something different today. 

There are so many good people out there right now wondering if the stuff they’ve done has somehow rendered them unforgivable. I suspect that was the case with the kneeling drunkard. This perspective makes us spiritually blind.
 
Jesus shows us who God is and what God can do - hearing our cries and acting with compassion. No matter how big or small your faith is, as Jesus has demonstrated with his own life, God meets us where we are, with love not judgement.
 
Each month, at communion, we remind ourselves that no matter how far we stray, we are never beyond the boundaries of God’s unfailing love. So, why then do we continue to be fearful of God, closing our eyes to all that Christ wants to give us.
 
Just as you blind yourself, believing you’re not worthy, Jesus open your eyes to show you that your worth isn’t based on anything you’ve done or do. It’s strictly based on God’s faithfulness to us, and the everlasting love which seals that covenant bond God made with the world.
 
Jesus doesn’t ask anything from Bartimaeus other than to answer the question. He didn’t say, let me see what’s on your card. Or ask him to explain why he thinks he deserves to see again. Jesus just said, “Go, your faith has made you well.” And that’s all Jesus asks of us.
 
To go live our lives faithfully - making God’s love visible and tangible and real. Go, and love your neighbor…your co-worker, your political rival. Go, and give your heart and a hand up to someone in need. Go, and be a living testimony to God’s greatness a beacon of light that illuminates the darkness so others can see their way back to God’s heart.
 
Which is exactly what Bartimaeus does. As soon as he received his sight, Mark writes, “he immediately followed him on the way.” And like I point out, the way of Jesus is the way of love.
 
So, here’s the thing, Jesus doesn’t focus on what’s written on our index cards. All he wants from us is a faithful heart; one that is willing to show our love for God and others, in the many ways we serve both.
 
Jesus not only opens our eyes to see the divine in all people, but he also opens our hearts to be a conduit for God’s love - connecting the space between heaven to earth, and you to me.
 
As we begin to see with eyes of a compassionate heart, we are able to see Jesus in the eyes of the hungry we feed, in the smile of naked we clothe, in the vulnerability of the sick and dying. With the eyes of a compassionate heart, we hear the cries for mercy and act with grace and love. According to Jesus, this is the only yardstick by which God measures the faithfulness of one’s heart.
 
So as we go out into the world, let us remember that faith is more than just a personal belief; it's a powerful force that heals, restores, and transforms our world from the inside out.
 
No matter where you are or what you’re going through, you can stand before God knowing Christ has already erased your index card clean.
 
And in case you were wondering how  that wonderful song concludes, Cash sings, 'Three years have passed since she went away. Her son is sleeping beside her today. And I know that in heaven his mother he sees, for God has heard that drunkard's plea.'  
 
Through Christ, God hears our cries, opens our eyes, and brings us home. So, next time you find yourself crying out, “Lord, have mercy on me,” I hope that you will remember you’re not alone. God is with you. Always has been, and always will be. Which means God already knows what we’ve done, and still chooses to claim us and name us The Beloved.
 
If that isn't Good News, if that doesn’t make your heart sing, then “Lord, have mercy on me.”

 
 
 
Works Cited
Based on a sermon Lord Have Mercy originally given on October 25, 2015.
Bartlett, David L., Barbara Brown Taylor, ed. Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol. 4. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009.
Cash, Johnnie. Kneeling Drunkard's Plea. Cash. American: 1997.
Manning, Brennan. The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat Up, and Burnt Out. Colorado Springs: Multnomah Books, 2005.

I like it because it forces me to really study and discern the different translations, and to understand and contemplate the historical context, and wrestle with the text knowing that the world back then was a whole lot different from the one we live in now.
 
I don’t mind the contradictions including the ones Jesus seems to make. Take the end of Matthew’s gospel, where Jesus tells his followers, “Go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). Most scholars agree that this means to share the message of God’s salvation with everyone—regardless of culture, gender, ethnicity, or social divide.
 
But then, as we will see in the passage below, Jesus seems to contradict himself when it comes to who we are to share this good news with.

Right after teaching his followers how to love, forgive, and seek the kingdom of God, Jesus slips in this perplexing command: “Do not give what is holy to dogs, and do not throw your pearls before swine.”
 
What does that even mean? And why would Jesus, who taught radical love and inclusion, say something that sounds so harsh and exclusive? Does Jesus hate dogs? I mean, I can see how an obedient Jew might have something against pigs. But dogs? Really?
 
When Cali was a puppy, she loved to chew on anything that belonged to me--
my hat, my belt, even my computer charger. I assume Jesus knows dogs have a reputation for being destructive. So, it makes sense not to give them something precious if you don’t want it destroyed.
 
Same is true about out a pig who will literally eat anything put in front of its mouth. Of course, Jesus is not being literal here. He’s not referring to animals, but humans. Again, context plays a key role in understanding scripture.
 
Knowing what we know about Jesus, I think it is a fair guess to say he’s not advocating for rejecting or excluding people. Instead, I believe he’s teaching us about discernment, or like as Paul describes, seeing with the “eyes of the heart  enlightened, you may perceive what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints,” (Ephesians 1:18).
 
I think Jesus is reminding us that we need to be very mindful when sharing the precious truths of the gospel, which is the pearl he’s talking about here.

​In another parable, he describes the kingdom of heaven as a great pearl, worth everything we have (Matthew 13:45-46). So, when Jesus tells us not to throw pearls before swine, he’s telling us not to share the gospel carelessly. Not everyone is ready to receive it.
 
Think about it like this: you have a friend who is deeply entrenched in some crazy conspiracy theory that pretty much everyone knows is a made-up story created to manipulate or distract the public from the truth. But your friend for some reason can’t let it go. They are so far down the rabbit hole, that you know trying to tell them otherwise is a waste of time and energy. They are simply unable to hear what you’re saying.
 
The Bible is a book that reveals God’s faithfulness and love in real ways that can transform real lives. But if someone’s not ready or open to being transformed, what good does it do to keep pushing?

Jesus says, “Brush the dust off your sandals and move on” (Matthew 10:14). Some people just are not there yet.
 
This is neither a reflection or rejection of you. It’s just that sometimes, it's not a person's time. And we have to trust God knows what God is doing.
​
It's all about timing, and mostly God's timing which I don't think I will ever fully understand.  However, I know that when I was 13, I took guitar lessons so I could indulge my fantasy of becoming a rock star.

All I wanted to do was learn how to play songs by The Clash and Ramones. But my teacher insisted I learn the basics first—chords and scales—which, at the time, I didn’t have the patience for. Frustrated, I quit after only a few lessons. I didn’t pick up the guitar again until I was 30 and I was very hungry to learn everything I could about it.
 
Sharing God‘s truth is kind of like that. We can’t force people to understand the depths of faith if they’re not ready. We have to discern each situation to know when to give what is holy to someone.
 
Jesus model this well. When he met the woman at the well, he listened to her questions, engaged in conversation with her, and even offered her living water (John 4:5-42).

But when he stood before Herod, he stayed silent because he knew the king was not open to the truth and could not see its value (Luke 23:9).

The ancient poet wrote, “There’s a time for everything under heaven…a time for silence, and a time to speak” (Eccl. 3:7).

 
John Chrysostom (347-407 CE) the master preacher of the early church, reminds us: “We must not teach in a way that alienates those who would hear, but rather draw them toward the truth with patience and wisdom.”

In other words, the best way to share the gospel is to be the gospel meeting people where they are. Like Kathleen used to tell the kids, “You catch more bees with honey than vinegar.”

The way we share the gospel—the way we present the pearl—is just as important as the message itself.
 
When I was in seminary, I got in a tense discussion with a group of classmates who loved to go out and do street evangelism. I had asked them what they believed was the best way to teach someone about Jesus who didn’t believe in him?
 
Immediately they all began quoting scripture to me. I had to remind them that a person who does not believe in Jesus, or God, isn’t going to believe the Bible either. The more they struggled to answer my question without defaulting to scripture or church doctrine, the more I pushed back like someone on the street might.
 
Finally, another classmate, frustrated by our obnoxious debate, yelled out, “Look. You don’t tell them who Jesus is—you show them.” Which was exactly my point.
 
The problem was that these guys were so focused on “winning over souls” that they weren’t able to see what Jesus is talking about in this passage.

​The Bible is not a weapon to beat people into heaven. It’s the living word of God that meets us where we are…right here in Anamesa.
 
The thing is, Jesus doesn’t send us to the furthest corners of the world to win arguments or force our beliefs on people. Jesus sends us out into the world to awaken hearts, not shut them down. This means, we have to meet people in ways that speak louder than words.

We have to be the precious pearl Jesus entrusted us to carry. Which is exactly what St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226 CE) meant when he said, “Go and preach the gospel, and if necessary, use words.”
 
Our mission here at Anamesa is to love God, love others, and serve both. These actions can’t be limited by words… but must be defined by action. People need to see it in us before they will even consider doing it themselves.
 
Jesus sends us out to form deep and authentic relationships. And build loving communities in his name. I can sit here and broadcast to the world about God’s love and hope everyone hears it and gets it. Or I can walk beside someone on their journey and show them what God’s love looks like in the flesh.

Because I took the time to discern what Jesus says, I now believe it’s better to show others how to grow their faith - so they can see the preciousness of God’s pearls in real and tangible ways.
 
Now there’s another thing I love about the Bible, that I need you to pay close attention too. This is not just the pastor’s job. Jesus calls every member of his church to be a beacon of light in the darkness. He sends us all out to make God’s love and grace come alive in every city, every home, and every heart that’s open.

When we come across hearts that are closed, we must discern when to wait, when to pray, and when to step back, trusting that God is doing something we cannot see.
 
As we get ready to out into the world, I would like to leave you with these encouraging words of Paul from his letter to the church in Colossi: "Conduct yourselves wisely toward outsiders, making the most of the op[portunity. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer everyone." Colossians 4:5-6).
 
Brothers and sisters, Jesus has entrusted each of us with a precious pearl and that great responsibility that comes with it. He sends us share it wisely, to speak with grace, and to love with a heart that reflects his.
 
Go and let your life be a testimony, a reflection of the grace you’ve received. And as you go, remember the promise that Jesus gave his disciples: “I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).
 
Carry that promise with you. Step out in faith. And watch how God will bless you and guide you as you carry this precious pearl everywhere you go.

When most people think of church, they picture a big building, a choir, and a pastor preaching from a pulpit to people sitting on hard pews. But we do things a little differently here. As many of you already know, Anamesa resides in that space between time and distance. Some watch live in person or in their homes while others tune in on a lunch break later in the week.
 
Although we’ve been accused of breaking away from the church structure, our goal was simply to break the mold around it. Church isn’t a building or a set time in the week. It’s you and me - ordinary, everyday folks connecting with each other to share our experiences, and grow together in our faith.
 
According to the reading I have chosen for today, that’s what church used to be like.

Luke paints a wonderful picture of a place where people from all walks of life could find belonging without the fear of judgement or rejection.

They met in houses like this one. They ate their meals together and shared their struggles and triumphs. They lived their lives with joy and compassion; supporting each other - not just emotionally but financially as well so that no one was without.
 
Luke said, everyone who saw what they were doing were in awe. People wanted to be a part of this new movement that seemed to challenge social norms and conventional wisdom.
 
I fear that somewhere in this space between then and now, the church has lost most of that early wonderment and joy. Walk into most houses of worship and you’ll find people just going through the motions: praying, singing, listening to a message. Afterwards, they move on with their day with little change in their heart or behavior.
 
But imagine what Anamesa could look like if everyone gathered and lived in such a way that left people in awe. Where the simple act of sharing our heart got people’s attention. It might sound altruistic, but I actually think it’s possible.
 
I experienced something similar many years ago when I moved into a small, rundown apartment complex in Hollywood. I wasn’t sure about the place at first, but there was something there that was special and sacred.
 
In the middle of the courtyard there was this old, metal patio table. Like most of the residents, it had been kicked to the curb, left to rot. But some of our neighbors cleaned it up and painted a wild solar system of funky stars and planets on it. Around the rim they painted different people holding hands.
 
Every night a bunch of us would gather around that table for dinner sharing whatever we had— mismatched plates, random salads, pasta, and a lot of wine and laughter. Yet, what made that space sacred wasn’t so much the meals, but the way we trusted each other enough to be honest and vulnerable. Like that first church, we leaned on each other for support - emotional, physical, and even financial.
 
Whether it was a hard lesson learned from life or a lighter for your cigarette, we all had something to give to the community pot. And even if you had nothing you still had a safe sanctuary where you could be loved on and cared for. We were far from sainthood, but I’ll tell you what, God was there, as close to us as we were to each other.
 
Imagine if every church looked like this. A place where anyone can come to feel welcomed and loved, no matter what. 

For many of us, this was our church. That table was our altar - covered in candle wax, discarded ashes, and tears. Our pews were mismatched chairs and a raggedy old sofa covered in cats. But it was the congregation – that wild bunch of broken and beloved  – who showed up every night and made each meal a eucharistic feast.

 
The early church had a word for such a community: koinonia. It’s a Greek word that is most commonly translated as “fellowship” but actually means "participation in a shared life." The way they participated and shared life was around an ordinary, everyday table.
 
At that table they practiced the Way of Jesus - which they learned firsthand by the Apostles. It turns out their hunger wasn’t just physical. They also had a deep spiritual hunger that they satiated by praying together, crying together, and caring for one another’s needs.

They fed their faith and found God in the ordinary, daily routines of communal life.
 
Around those tables, they learned how to live out the gospel in real time – touching and transforming others along the way. It’s no wonder people were blown away by what they saw and experienced. As the wonderful Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh described so beautifully, they “touched life so deeply that the Kingdom of God became a reality."
 
Isn’t that our goal and purpose – to make God’s kingdom come alive, even in the most basic or mundane ways? To quote Samuel Coleridge, “Christianity is not a theory or speculation, but a life; not a philosophy of life, but a life and a living process.”  That process begins by following Jesus who said, “I am the truth, the light and the way” (John 14:6).
 
If we want to know God and be enlightened enough to see what God’s Kingdom looks like in real time, Jesus says, “Follow me.” See what I do for others and do it. Love, forgive, heal, clothe, support. Stand up for what’s right with a humble heart. Be tender and merciful to all people, just as God has shown tenderness and mercy to you.
 
That’s what those first Christians did. They didn’t merely go to church—they were the church. They risked everything to live out Christ’s truth, embodying God’s love in real and tangible ways.
 
Maybe it's time we took a page from their book. Instead of just attending “service,” what if we started worshiping like they did – filling the space between us and our neighbors with giant buffet tables overflowing with God’s love?

Love is the heartbeat of a Christ community. It’s how the world should see our faith in action.
 
We don’t need grand cathedrals to show it; we just need to make love become incarnate wherever we go. Jesus said love is the way people will know we belong to him. But as Brian Tracy points out, "Love only grows by sharing."
 
The early church grew because people saw something different in them—something real. They were drawn to the love, the joy, and the sense of belonging to a community where everyone was equal and welcome. I believe we can stand out like this—not so much in the way we gather,
but in all the many different ways we love God, love others, and serve both.
 
We hear that vision every week, but are we really showing it, making that public? Are we honoring our love for God by loving our neighbor, and giving liberally to those in need? To follow Jesus is to break the molds that separate us from one another. This first church gave us the blueprint on how to do that.
 
Actor Rainn Wilson describes this koinonia community as one of the greatest revolutions the world has ever seen. He said, “For the first time in human history, people from all races, nations, classes, and genders—including sailors, rabbis, Roman soldiers, widows, carpenters, prostitutes—gathered together to worship God and remember the legacy of Jesus.”
 
Theirs wasn't merely a religious movement; it was a revolutionary community united by the living presence of Christ - the very incarnation of God’s love.
 
They thrived by opening their hearts and hands to those the world had kicked to the curb and left to rot. I believe we can do the same today if we shift our focus from simply attending church to actively participating in the mission of Christ - loving others, promoting peace, serving those on the margins, and getting involved in our communities.
 
Remember, it's not about perfect theology or flawless performance. It's about loving like Jesus loved. It's about being a beacon of hope in a world filled with darkness.
 
So, let’s get started and be the church the world needs. Let’s stand in Anamesa, in this space between heaven and earth, as bridges to God’s love and glory.
 
Let’s follow the way of Jesus and become holy and sacred sanctuary for anyone seeking true peace, spiritual freedom, and real healing.
 
Let us take the steps to be who God calls us to be.

And together, I believe, we will leave the world in awe.
 

 
 
Work Cited
Adapted from a sermon A Gathered People: What Are You Doing Here. May 21, 2017.
Byassee, Jason. "Living in the Word: Scared Sheep?" Sojourners, May 2017: 44.
Cole, Neal. Organic Church: Growing Faith Where Life Happens. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2005.
Moore, Charles. Called To Community. Walden: Plough Publishing House, 2016.
Snyder, Howard. Called To Community. Edited by Charles E. Moore. Walden: Plough Publishing House, 2016.
Rainn Wilson interview from Faith For Normal People, April 19, 2023.

It would be a drastic understatement to say politicians love pointing every flaw and failure of their opponents while conveniently ignoring their own. And it shouldn't surprise any of us because these types of hypocrites have been around forever – in government, media, and even the church.

When a culture like ours is obsessed with morally superiority, it’s just way too easy to be critical of others.  But Jesus calls us to a different standard— a life of humility, self-reflection, and grace. In today's passage, we will hear what Jesus thinks about the hypocritical nature of judgment, particularly among his followers.

The command is pretty basic and simple: “Don’t judge, or you will be judged.” It's not one of those sayings Jesus has that requires much thinking. In fact, it's so easy to understand by the masses that it would be unusual to find it printed on a novelty tea towel.

Despite its broad appeal, many Christians will ignore this golden rule of sorts. Settling instead to fall into the same hypocrisy Jesus condemns the Pharisees of.
 
You might remember me talking about those guys. They are the one's Jesus calls "blind guides" because they are quick to enforce the rules on others but slow to look at their own hearts. They obsess over minor rules like tithing spices, but miss the bigger picture of justice, mercy, and faithfulness (c.f. Matthew 23).
 
To put it into today's context, Jesus might say something like, “Woe to you, Senators and sly foxes, who criticize others for not securing borders but refuse to pass the necessary legislation to do so.” Or perhaps a little closer to home, “Woe to you who preach against homosexuality while secretly hiding in the closet.”
 
Now, to be fair, we cannot escape life without making critical judgement calls. But we can critique others without condemning ourselves. Notice the quirky, little parable Jesus gives us about someone with a huge plank protruding from their eye trying to pick out a tiny speck of sawdust from someone else’s eye.

The absurdity of the image underscores this point: you can’t help others see clearly if you’re blinded by your own faults.
 
Jesus is not saying don’t help others with their “specks,” just address your own “planks” first. Be humble and self-aware, recognizing your own imperfections before judging others. This is a great way not to be hypocritical.

But it’s also a great way to follow Jesus who calls us to “repent,” to make a change in the way we think that can transform the way we see ourselves in relationship to God and others.
 
So, Just as Jesus looks within us, so too must we first look in the space between our head and heart where our words and deeds are born. 

I love the way Carl Jung reminds us how "Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves."

​I believe if we take the time to do some honest, self-examination, we can change the way we see the world - viewing it with the eyes of a compassionate heart rather than one that condemns.

 
If we are being honest with ourselves, we know that we are all need grace and love. They are part of the essential nutrients for our spiritual health. According to Dietrich Bonhoeffer: "When I judge, I am blind to my own evil and to the grace granted to the other person."

To recognize our limitations is, in many ways, is to receive what God through Christ has to offer us: Grace upon grace.
 
This spiritual journey we are on is not a competition; it’s not us versus them any more than it's me against you. It's about walking together towards God’s steadfast love knowing that no one is morally or spiritually better than anyone else on this path.

Like Paul pointed out in Romans, “We all fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Each and every one of us is in need God’s grace – no matter how big or small our need is.
 
Jesus instructs us to look within ourselves before we look at another person with contempt. For it’s in our removing of the plank that we clear our vision. And change our perspective. Instead of seeing others as objects of judgment, we can see them as God sees us – as beloved children made from love for the purpose of love.
 
When we see and understand others this clearly, we can become very generous with our love, mercy, and grace. We must learn to see beyond the kind of thinking that separates people into "good" or "bad," "right" or "wrong." We must remove the blinders from our eyes and see the divine presence in everyone.
 
Remember from last week what Jesus said? “I am the vine, you are the branches” (John 15:5). We’re all made in the divine image of God. And we all draw from the same source for our nutrients. Any part of us that don’t produce the fruit of God’s love, must be removed. Starting with that giant, protruding plank.
 
When we see ourselves and others as part of a larger, unified whole, we can move beyond our rigid divisions towards true compassion and understanding. We can become people who stand for peace and justice for all.
 
Again, Jesus is speaking to the folks who will become the Church. He knows that moral superiority is toxic to any community. And that hypocrisy will only pollute this sacred space. By helping us to recognize our shared humanity and brokenness, Jesus levels the playing field allowing us to approach correction with a humble heart of love rather than smug soul of condemnation.
 
In his book A Community of Character, Stanley Hauerwas reminds us that, "The church is the body of Christ, constituted by practices that form people who can recognize their need for forgiveness and, therefore, are able to forgive others."

To truly follow Christ is to reflect his love and grace, starting with how we love God, love others, and serve both. Such a posture can lead to a deeper relationship with God and others, instead of pushing them both away.
 
Jesus straight up tells us to, “Love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34). He’s not saying overlook someone’s faults or sins but remove the blinders from our eyes and hearts, so you can see people the way he sees them. And love and forgive them like he does.
 
This is the kind of shit Jesus says to inspire us to actually love both our neighbor and ourselves (Mark 12:31). He shows us how to do it, so we will mirror his mercy, reflecting his grace in ways that exemplify his call to “Forgive and you will be forgiven” (Luke 6:37).
 
Jesus says and does a lot of things worthy of being printed on a tea-towel, most of which could be summed up with this saying: “Do to others what you would have them do to you” (Matthew 7:12). 
 
As we embrace his name, let us lead by his example—welcoming people with open arms, no matter who they are, who they love, or who they vote for. Henri Nouwen reminded us that “Those you have deeply loved become part of you.”

Since there will always be people to love, we will always have one another as part of who we are. As the inner community of our heart becomes wider, “the more easily you will recognize your own brothers and sisters in the strangers around you.”
 
Let’s be a community of the heart—a place where love is abundant, grace is offered freely, and judgment is tempered by humility. Instead of criticizing others, lets look inward; asking God to reveal our planks. Instead of calling out others’ faults, lets examine our lives to ensure we are living out God’s will for us with integrity.
 
Jesus clearly says, “The measure you give is the measure you will receive” (Matthew 7:2) You might call this karma, the principle of what goes around comes around. For me it’s a reminder to be mindful of what God continues to do in my life so that I can be generous with my love and abundant with my grace.
 
As we unlock the space between us, may we embody Christ’s compassion throughout Anamesa, helping others to feel God’s love. And see Jesus for who he truly is the one who reminds us, “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light” (Matthew 6:22).
 
Our eyes reflect and reveal our truth, especially in the ways we see others in need. Just as a “healthy” eye sees with purity, hypocrisy blinds us spiritually.
 
Using another crazy illustration, Jesus drives this point home saying, “If your eye causes you to stumble, it should be cut out and thrown into the fire.”
 
But before things get that drastic, maybe we should first remove the planks from our own eyes so we can see more clearly the Way of the One who looks over the crowd and begins to say, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8)
 
 
 
Work Cited:
Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Faith in Community. (Harper & Row, 1954).
Hauerwas, S.. A Community of Character: Toward a Constructive Christian Social Ethic. (University of Notre Dame Press, 1981).
Jung, Carl G. Aion: Researches into the Phenomenology of the Self. (Princeton University Press, 1951).
Nouwen, Henri J.M. You Are The Beloved. (Convergent, 2017).

Music is a deeply personal experience, and what resonates with me might not work for you. Still, I try to keep an open mind and appreciate the thought behind their recommendations because I know it’s not just about the music; it’s also a way of showing they care and just want to stay connected with me.
 
Beyond our personal tastes, music has this amazing ability to bring us together on a deeper level. It’s a universal language that can bridge cultural, political, and religious divides.

There’s a group of musicians from Israel and Palestine who meet weekly to jam together. For years, they’ve used their music to foster peace and understanding between their communities, demonstrating that music can unite even amidst wars and conflict.
 
On July 4, 1969, John Lennon and Yoko Ono sang, “All I am saying is give peace a chance.” It was a protest psalm of sorts. Although it had no religious overtones, it’s hard not to hear Jesus singing, “Blessed are the Peacemakers for they will be called children of God.” 

That’s the power of music. It can evoke deep and communicate profound emotions (often without words). It’s no wonder we use it for worship and celebration.
 
So, the next time a friend shares a song with you, take a moment to appreciate their gesture and enjoy the chance to connect through their passion for music. A

​nd take the opportunity to lift up your heart to God and be grateful for the great soundtrack (and friends) that help us get through life’s ups and downs, one beat at a time.