Good Friday. Three crosses and three men, one sentence: death. Our entire Lenten fast and feast, our prayers and questions, our tears and sorrows, our fears and anxieties, all culminate at this one place: the Cross. We knew that we would end here when we begin Lent. We also know that this cross, this death will do nothing to kill the Word of God. In fact, it ignites this Word. This fire Spirit still burns brightly.
For me, Lent was a challenge of a different sort. On one hand I was at peace, fasting from worry and feasting on faith. In essence I tried to allow Jesus to take the wheel and drive my life. On the other hand, it was forty days of chaos and stress as I pushed myself to write a devotional a day. Some might have been better than others, but I did it. And I am appreciative to all of you for your input and participation. I hope to write more frequently on my personal blog site as I continue to seek new ways to find Jesus in a world of Jesús and other strangers.
While this devotional has come to an end, our life journey with Christ as just begun. There will be good days, and bad nights. And bad days, but good nights. There will be up’s and down’s that will push us and challenge our faith. In fact, there will be a lot of crap you’ll just have to put up with. How you react, how you learn, and how you grow in the love of Christ will not only determine the peace you will find, but it will also set the tone for peace in the world.
In the meantime, please read this wonderful poem by Christine Black, from the March edition of Sojourners magazine.
A Lenten Poem
By Christine E. Black
How to bring god closer
after the frenzy, the snarling riots,
this god hanging on a tree?
Do I stand here, as the story goes,
looking, do nothing, imagine
pouring myself toward him,
a flame across a field?
Or would I go there,
climb up, pry the first nails out
with the claw of a hammer,
wrap my arm tightly around his waist,
like my son I rescue from a branch too high?
I struggle to keep his weight on my hip,
his arm over my shoulder
while I wrest the other nails loose.
Smelling his sweat and tears,
I hoist him, lower him to the ground,
and then, with a wet cloth,
wash blood and dirt from his face,
tell him it will be all right now.
He is not forsaken, I say.
I’m here and can help.
I’m strong and fierce, have survived childbirths
and madness, sickness and suicides.
Here, I will carry you down.
I will go get more help.
And I know others who will come,
with bandages, bread,
broth and soft songs, blankets.
We will not leave you there
Faithful Jesus, your faith was tried just like mine, but even more. Yet you trusted that you would not be put to shame, and into God’s hands you entrusted your spirit. Give me courage today to do the same in the time of life’s trials and tribulations. Amen.
Through his example of self-giving love and servitude, Jesus invites us into an intimate relationship where we are more than just simple followers; we are friends and companions. Likewise, we are to open ourselves up to others, to share in the intimacy of life where friendships are made and communities of trust are created.
To be a friend of Christ, to bear the name Christian, means we are called to walk in love in the midst of a broken and wounded world. Through us, God continues to send his Son into our communities to share his Divine love with our neighbors. With God at our side, we can move beyond our comfort zones and make ourselves vulnerable.
In the solemnness of this evening back in 2010, I sat in a pew and saw Maundy Thursday from a new perspective. Not as a spectator, but as one who accepted the call to follow Christ. I had no idea where the journey would take me. Likewise, our Lenten journey began six weeks ago, and since then we have grown closer to God and deeper in our faith. While we had no idea what God would reveal to us along this trip, I hope that you found something to help prepare your soul for Sunday, and your faith for Monday.
Let us all dare to be with He who knew no sin. The Holy One who rose from the table, walked out into the world, and stretched out his sacred arms; joining heaven to earth, and true love to all human kind. For it is through the love of God in Christ Jesus that we gather together as one world, one people, in one community of divine love.
PRAYER: Dear God Our hearts are a battleground between faithfulness and betrayal. I am weak, but you are steadfast. Trusting in the unwavering love of Jesus Christ, I confess that I have denied you, and betrayed you and our calling to serve and love one another. I confess that I do not always remember you, with celebrations of the supper that represents your giving of your life for us. Forgive me of my selfish ways and turn my heart and mind away from unkind and destructive behaviors, to be more like Jesus. Amen.
There was a stranger who was traveling through a new town when he was jumped, beaten, and robbed by some local gang members.
His head was kicked open, his eyes swollen shut, his rib cage shattered, and his lungs were slowly filling with blood. The gangbanger who did this to him left him on the side of the road to die. A minister from down the street saw the man lying on the side of the road but went about his way assuming the. man was just another drunk that often littered his street.
As the blood slowly leaked into the stranger’s lungs, his breathing became more difficult. The swelling in his brain was making it difficult for him to speak a language he had worked so hard to learn. When he cried out to the Rabbi walking passed by, he could only speak in his native tongue. The rabbi did not understand the words, but he was familiar with the language. Blinded by centuries of bitter rivalries, he too ignore the stranger without guilt or remorse.
Before he lost consciousness completely, a young woman on the way to work saw the blood pooling around the man. She stopped her car in the middle of the road and ran to his rescue. Fearlessly she lifted the stranger into her arms as her suit absorbed his blood.
She tenderly put this stranger in her backseat of her new car and poured water over his face. “Please don’t die,” she yelled. Even as her eyes were filled with fear, they spoke to him in a universal language of hope and love. They screamed, “You will live. Just breath. Just breath.”
Closing his eyes the man drifted to sleep; holding on her promise.
When he finally awoke, days had passed. The medical teams and hospital staff had worked around the clock to keep this strange man alive. Sound asleep in a chair next to his bedside was the young woman with her bloodstained jacket over her like a blanket.
How does that story make you feel?
Would your feelings be any different if you learned the man awoke handcuffed to his hospital bed for a crime he had committed as a young man?
I suspect Jesus would say no. He makes this very clear when he speaks of our final judgment as individuals in Mathew 25:31-46, "Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me—you did it to me." Here in this passage Jesus separates the sheep from the goats for judgement. It could be the same as the snake and the stranger or Red or Blue.
As Lent comes to it's final days, we have spent a good deal of time looking deep within ourselves, to find our oneness with God and with those around us. These last couple of days have also made us look at ourselves as we face the political and religious dilemmas that confront us. We have to decide if we are going to stand as lambs with Christ or we go the way of the goats with Caesar.
Today is a good day to look at yourself intimately - to see yourself as God does. And work on the ways you understand and show God’s love to the criminal, the immigrant, the ones who ignore you and the ones who watch out for you. We are all one people, God’s children. There is no politic, then, but God’s that matters in the end.
You can be the woman. Or the snake. The choice is up to you. Choose wisely.
PRAYER: LORD GOD, open my eyes so that I might see you in my life today; you in my neighbor, my boss, the car in front of me, or the person behind me in the grocery store. Open my heart that I might receive them as you have received me, with the love and grace given to me through Jesus Christ, Amen.
Part One: The Snake
Jesus was political. There is no way around this statement other than to look at the historical facts. And it’s here, during Holy Week that his politics become the threat to a corrupt system that abandoned God’s will and righteousness for its own. His politics were a social politic; what we might call bleeding heart liberal. We might say Jesus upheld not so much the “letter of the laws” but the “spirit of the law.” It must come from the heart of God’s love for all people first and foremost.
We like to believe that we are one such people, and have even gone out on a limb to declare that we are such a nation too. Our countries forefathers made the treacherous journey to begin anew a civilization grounded in biblical law and religious freedom. Many people continue to come to our shores today seeking the same. But as history would demonstrate, there needs to be a balance between “the letter” and “the spirit” of the law. They must work together...for the good of all.
This was the politics of Jesus; do what needs to be done to keep the civic thriving but do so without neglecting or favoring any one group or individual over another. His politics were radical and threatened those in charge, especially Caesar and all who worked for the Roman Emperor. Today, Caesar is alive and well, and Jesus continues to be a threat to him and his politics.
From this point onward I speak my opinion only and seek to rely on the Holy Spirit to guide the observations and interpretations expressed next. I do so because I believe we have a new Caesar in our midst - a man who believes he is the savior of the world and the gospel (good news) comes through him.
***Such was the political climate in 1st Century Palestine where the Jewish people built a wall around Jerusalem. The wall, as history tells us, did nothing to protect the people but most likely caused more harm than good. For one, it kept the Jews inside. Around AD 70 Caesar sent his Army to destroy Israel once and for all. The wall was a great barrier that made this hard to do. However, inside the city a civil war of sorts broke out and the Jews were killing each other. There was no way for the innocent to escape because of the wall. It was a catch-22 that led to the final downfall of God’s chosen people. And those political factions, especially the Sadducees, were never heard of again. This was exactly as Jesus had predicted before they killed him. ***
Practicing Mindful Living
“If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.
John Dear invites us into a peaceful, nonviolent way of living with creation:
To grow in deeper, loving awareness of our sisters and brothers, the beautiful creatures, and wonders of creation, we practice the art of mindfulness. That means we try not to live in the past or stew over the future.
We give ourselves to the present moment of peace and return to the gentleness of our breath as a way to return to the present moment, the eternal now.
The Buddhists teach mindful living, mindful eating, mindful walking, mindful working. Every moment becomes an opportunity to step into the present moment of peace.
Pope Francis writes of being present as the most precious gift:
“We are speaking of an attitude of the heart,” he writes, “one which approaches life with serene attentiveness, which is capable of being fully present to someone without thinking of what comes next, which accepts each moment as a gift from God to be lived to the full.
Jesus taught us this attitude when he invited us to contemplate the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, or when seeing the rich young man and knowing his restlessness, ‘he looked at him with love’ (Mk 10:21). He was completely present to everyone and to everything, and in this way, he showed us the way to overcome that unhealthy anxiety which makes us superficial, aggressive and compulsive consumers.”
Richard Rohr puts peace to practice: “Putting on the mind of the nonviolent Christ and practicing his nonviolence, we learn to contemplate the lilies of the field and the birds of the air. When he rose from the dead, he gave his friends the gift of resurrection peace, breathed on them, and said receive the Holy Spirit. He sent them on a global mission of peace and nonviolence.
We try to follow Jesus by welcoming that gift of resurrection peace, breathing in his Holy Spirit, and walking in his footsteps in his kingdom of nonviolence. In that mindfulness, everyone shines like the sun. We recognize every human being as a sister and brother, every creature as a gift from God, and Mother Earth as a treasure to be honored and cared for.
We too learn to walk mindfully on earth in the present moment of peace. Along the way, we discover that we have already entered eternal life. Eternity has begun. We are here, on earth, in the peaceful presence of the Creator.”
And then there is me, Ian Macdonald:
“When I live fully present and aware about the world around me, I begin to see the things that matter to me with more clarity and understanding. My heart and my eyes become one, along with my hands and my breath, and every part, big and small, that makes me uniquely who I am. In the present moment, I am fully and truly who I am. And I am fully who God meant to be.
The tension arises when my mind is off in one place, while my heart is in another. I cannot walk down two paths with God at the same time. I must pick one and walk faithfully in oneness with God. Our hearts and eyes, and fingers and breath must beat and see and touch and breathe as one.
Jesus holds me in the present because this is the place where real danger lurks and true love is found. While dwelling on my past might help me understand the difference between these two, it is in my oneness with God that I learn they are really one in the same.
“Each morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.” ~ Buddha
Dear, John. They Will Inherit the Earth: Peace and Nonviolence in a Time of Climate Change (Orbis Books: 2018), 123-124.
Pope Francis, Laudato Si’, 226.
Rohr, Richard. https://cac.org/natural-world-week-1-summary-2018-03-10/
“Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple...
If God can take two ordinary planks of wood and do the impossible, then imagine what God’s doing right now in you.
As Holy Week begins our Lenten journey is drawing closer to its inevitable end. In just a few more days my kids can begin to eat chocolate and use hair gel again.
No matter what you have fasted or feasted upon, it all comes to an end at the cross of Good Friday. And if we’re not mindful, we just might walk past it on our way to Easter.
Palm Sunday typically speaks of Jesus’ triumphant ride into Jerusalem. But while we are busy waving palms and shouting our hallelujahs, we forget that this event is not so much about a grand entrance as it is a divine exit.
I think it’s important for us to look at this day, not from the perspective of the crowd, but from the eyes of Christ who saw the Roman cross upon that hill with his name on it.
For he knew a joyous resurrection can’t escape the sorrow of that icon!
That’s like saying the noose of the Ku Klux Klan or the gas chambers of Nazi Germany are as noticeable as the dust on our history books. The cross was a serious weapon of war. And I doubt anyone who witnessed a loved one being crucified ever forgot the brutality and pain this innocuous piece of wood represented. That was its point. It was designed to make a lasting impression.
The cross of Christ was not ordinary – but extraordinary. I find it hard to believe that we’ve become so jaded that we can no longer see God’s ability to take something so horrific and humiliating, and transform it into something so honorable and liberating.
Christopher Slatoff, an artist who has been working on a series of sculptures depicting the Stations of the Cross, wants us to see this iconic weapon for it’s true beauty – God’s redeeming love. While the Stations of the Cross is highly symbolic to the church, Slatoff wanted the public to see the humanity of Jesus, in it’s rawest form, so we wouldn’t forget the divine gift his sacrifice provided.
One of his sculptures entitled “Jesus Being Nailed To The Cross” (pictured above) is located on the campus of Fuller Seminary. To stand above it, as the Roman soldiers bang the nails into Jesus’ flesh, you realize this is anything but ordinary. That was his point.
I had the privilege to meet Slatoff while I was a student at Fuller. His lecture on this particular sculpture, and all its well-researched details, would change my perspective indefinitely.
One of the things that stood out to me was not the agony carved into Jesus’ face or the serious concentration of the two hammer-wielding soldiers who were just doing their job. Instead it was the ordinariness of the wood beams that formed the cross he was being nailed to. They were plain and nondescript – nearly invisible to all the drama that was unfolding.
I’m sure most by-standers don’t focus on the wood, muchless what they created – a vile manner of execution that inflicted an anguished death and struck fear into all who witnessed its despicable power. It was by far the greatest weapon Caesar had in its arsenal. Killing one person could silence a thousand more from rebelling against him.
Remember the central message of Jesus’ ministry was, “The Kingdom of God is at hand!” Declaring this was dangerous. If God is King over all, then what role does Caesar play? The cross was supposed to silence such nonsense once and for all. But instead it set into motion a plan only God’s creative imagination could execute.
This one cross, made up of two ordinary wood beams, held a man whose death was anything but ordinary. While his crucifixion was the world’s way of saying no to everything Jesus stood for, it would come to represent God’s affirming love and redemption for human kind. Those who fixed their eyes upon it and believed would be saved, redeemed, and forgiven.
Each time I walked passed Slatoff’s sculpture I found it harder and harder to ignore God’s extraordinary love pouring out from those nail holes; calling out to me “This is my body and blood which is given to you.” It’s impossible to see it as anything less than grace.
Jill Carattini writes, “The symbol of the cross is an instrument of death. It is also, curiously, a symbol of God’s kindness. Far from ordinary, it suggests, at the very least, a beautiful and terrible love quite beyond us.”
The way I see it, the cross is us.
It represents our moral bankruptcy when we are left to our own devices. The body, broken and bleeding on it, is God’s most vulnerable love and restoration. And Jesus’ death and resurrection is a raw reminder that God’s love can never be silenced. It can never be killed.
In giving himself over completely and willingly to God, as a living sacrifice for us all, Jesus would become triumphant over death. But in order to get there he had to make the painful journey. And so too must we. This is not an ordinary request, is it?
But the good news is: God will use whatever means necessary to reclaim us as one of his own. This means God can use a broken marriage to transform a broken heart. God can use the murder of innocent students to bring peace into a violent world. God can take tears of sorrow to bring about shouts of joyous hallelujahs.
Those who lined the streets of Jerusalem to welcome Jesus had no idea where his journey was headed. But we do. We know the cross is just a stepping stone to everlasting life.
Maybe that’s why it seems ordinary, or why we might over look it. We are no longer shocked or afraid, because we know the tomb will be empty when they roll away the stone on Easter morning. But while we seem know that God can do the most extraordinary things, we still have trouble seeing God at work within ourselves.
If God can take two ordinary planks of wood and do the impossible, then imagine what God’s doing right now in you.
The place you are standing today is no accident. Every experience you having, is preparing you for the place God wants you to be tomorrow. We do not know which part of our life God will use to accomplish our greatness, all we know is that we must pick up our cross and make the journey from ordinary to extraordinary.
The world may overlook the power of the cross. They might see it as an utterly foolish thing to do, as Paul wrote to the churches in Corinth. But that does not stop God from doing what God wants to do. Like a sculptor to clay, God shapes and molds our sorrow and pain into something more beautiful than we can ever realize.
The world can try to strip the cross of it’s meaning, or empty it of its beauty, hope, and depth. But what the Romans and the world would eventually come to discover, the cross couldn’t be emptied of Christ.
Even where the cross is obscure, Christ is still near - working within each one of us to redeem all of creation back to where we belong…in the extraordinary love of God
Feast on this powerful message from Matthew West, whose song Broken Things will hopefully sing to your heart. Enjoy and may God bless you today.
The whole world is at rest, and is quiet:
and they break forth into singing. ~ Isaiah 14:7
The American poet Wendell Berry wrote a very small, very subtle untitled poem in 1997. In just four lines and seventeen words, the poet helped me to understand something I have been wrestling with this year in my Lenten journey.
Best of any song
is bird song
in the quiet, but first
you must have the quiet
The poem caught my eye for two reasons. First it reminds me of the engagement ring I bought for my wife Kathleen. Hers was not your traditional diamond ring that all her relatives were expecting. Instead we decided together on one that had been designed by an artist known for etching little poems into her jewelry.
This particular ring spoke to both Kathleen and I for reasons I can only assume had something to do with God’s divine hand that led us to one another. Etched on top of the ring were the words of the 18th Century Jewish mystical rabbi Dev Baer or Mezritch:
Before the first light, light.
Before the first word, silence.
Yet for some reason silence makes us human beings uncomfortable. Even thought God tells us to, “Be still and know that I am your God” we still squirm and squeal just to let the world know that we exist. But we might benefit from sitting still in the silence; to use it for our advantage, or at least our deeper understanding of life.
The second reason I like this poem is that it suggests there’s a musical quality to quietness. Think about that for a moment. The rhythm of life, the heartbeat of all creation is not noisy but quiet. This does not imply that quiet is noiseless. A well-trained ear can hear the beat of electrical impulses that dance in the air and move through the silent atmosphere. It’s as if the invisible spirit of God is trying to be noticed. Silence is a noise that gets our attention – it screams out to us that there is no escaping God’s presence.
“Solitude, silence, and prayer are often the best ways to self-knowledge. Not because they offer solutions for the complexity of our lives but because they bring us in touch with our sacred center, where God dwells. That sacred center may not be analysed. It is the place of adoration, thanksgiving, and praise.”
God etches little messages within us, and within all of creation. We need to look carefully to find them. Sometimes, we have to listen carefully too in order to hear them speak out to us. Just as a sunset makes no noise, or the starlight heavens say not a word, they both speak volumes about God’s vast greatness, and both sing praises to God’s great works without uttering a word.
As you try to find your quiet place during your final days of this Lent journey, I hope you will take the time to meditate on the words of the great mystic and theologian, St. Francis of Assisi who said, “Go and preach the gospel always; use words only if necessary.”
Prayer: Mysterious and wonderful Lord God, be with me today to quiet the noises that are inside me. For you alone have the power to silence the world that screams and distracts me from being with you. More importantly God, help me to sit peacefully in your Presence as I seek to find a deeper relationship with you and your marvelous creation. Amen.
Berry, Wendell. A Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems 1979-1997. (Counterpoint: 1998) p. 207.
For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
In a recent blog posting, Seth Godin wrote, “I'm sitting in a crowded lobby in Los Angeles, surrounded by 100 or so people. Not one of them looks like a movie star. No one has perfect hair, a perfect family, a perfect life… Role models are fine. But not when they get in the way of embracing our reality.”
It’s hard to deny that deep down inside each one of us is a spirit that is striving for some kind of perfection. Parents want to be better parents. Bosses want to be better bosses. Lovers want to be better lovers. And in all my earnestness and humbleness, I desire to be a better follower of Christ. But hey, that’s not reality.
It’s fun to think up all the things you could be perfect in. But what makes it difficult to really answer the question is the simple truth that perfection itself is not reality. Let’s face it. Perfection is subjective. We will never be able to agree on a clear-cut the definition because we each have our own set of criteria for not only how to define it but also how to live it.
As Godin concluded, “There are no movie stars. Merely people who portray them now and then.”
There are no perfect parents, bosses, lovers, marriages, or friends. We are all good people who are merely trying to do our very best. As I like to say, we are perfect because of this imperfection called reality.
As we move towards the end of Lent, it’s good to be reminded of our imperfect reality. I find it freeing that I will fail from time-to-time as I try to succeed in my Lenten fast. (Kathleen is very good at reminding me.)
I also know that when I fail at living up to the goals I’ve set for myself, I begin to discover what I can actually do, and thus who I can really be.
For example, I will never be Christ. But I could be like him. I can live as he lived which can define me not merely as a person, but as a particular person...a beloved child of God.
I hope that you are struggling with your fast, too. And if you are, like I am, then I also hope you are seeking your feast. For God needs you, in your imperfection, to carry on the mission that Christ began. We must never lose sight of the fact that “Christ has no body now but yours; no hands, no feet, but yours.”
We must imitate the one who was “without sin” by living as he lived...loving as he loved…teaching as he taught…being as he was. It’s not so much about perfecting Christlikeness but by simply trying to be the best at that you can be in the moment where it matters the most.
Instead of trying to perfect something you are not good at, just try to see through Christ’s eyes, love through his heart, speak through his mouth, and walk with his feet. To live in such a way – despite the mistakes or the stumbles that trip you up – you will redefine the reality of who you really are: a perfectly imperfect child of God.
Jesus redefined perfection by:
God is the purist definition of “greed” in that God wants everything that is you.
There’s a new trend in travel that has been slowly creeping in without little notice. No, not the taxes or fees that seem to now make up about 20% of the fare. It’s the discount seat. The airlines has a select section seats that they set aside for discounted rates. But this is not really true.
Just this week, as we are booking tickets for a trip, my wife Kathleen and I noticed if you want to buy the “discount fare” you can, but if you want to get an assigned seat you have to pay extra. If you want to print out your ticket, you have to pay extra. If you want to bring a suitcase…yes, you have to pay extra.
I can understand the seat assignment, and if I put on a true Christian heart I might be able to understand paying for printing out a ticket instead of using an electronic on your phone. But I have never understood, nor will I ever except, an airline charging for bags! It’s like banks charging you for money. For all intent and purpose we are at their mercy.
I can’t think of a time my family and I have gone on a flight without packing some essentials for when we get to our destination. The airlines know this, and I imagine a boardroom full of stuffy suited people chanting, “Greed is good,” that infamous saying from Oliver Stone’s movie, Wall Street.
In some cases, however, perhaps greed is good.
Take, for example, God and God’s love for you. Dare I say it, God is the purist definition of “greed” in that God wants everything that is you. God is not completely satisfied until God gets what God wants. That is you. All of you. Not just your attention, prayer and voice for an hour on Sunday. God wants you and your everyday.
Every moment, minute and second of every day and every month and every year God pursues you. And God will do whatever is needed to bring you into the eternal love and grace that the Creator has made available for you. The incarnation of Jesus is proof. The cross of Jesus is further proof. And the resurrection of Jesus is the ultimate proof.
Airlines are setting record's profits...and still they continue to lose our bags! Read article here
Karl Marx, the German philosopher and economist, wrote another famous quote, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.” Replace the word “Religion” with the word “greed” and you might see how airlines are able to get away with charging for bags.
An airline charges you for that stuff because they know you believe you need extra clothes, shoes, toothpaste, and more than 3 ounces of hair product. God says all you need is me. (Bible verse)
God doesn’t charge you for this service. In fact, God has already paid the fee for you. The ticket is free too. For anywhere you go, God will be there with you; amazing you and watching out for you always until you reach your final destination: at home with God.
Prayer: Lord God, I am not sure that I will ever truly understand why you want me or why you pursue me the way you do; but I am grateful that you continue to love me in such a way that you are not willing to give up on me. You truly are a wonderful parent, and it’s an honor to be your child. Amen.
An ex-copywriter turned punk rock pastor and peacemaker who dedicates his life to making the world a better place for all humanity.
"that they all might be one" ~John 17:21
~ St. Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274)