John 1:1-14

We will only be able to worship this tiny, fragile baby Jesus, when we dwell in his presence with those who are vulnerable.

EASTER SUNDAY ∙ John 20:1-18

There is a constellation of hope, and love, and joy in this place. It won’t make us unshakably certain, or unmovable strong. But it will make us alive — united in Christ, starstruck by the God of resurrections.

MAUNDY THURSDAY · John 13:1, 31-35

Jesus orders us to love one another, indiscriminate of whether others are citizens or immigrants; criminals or not; Christian or not; sober or not; mentally ill or not; politically-aligned or not; reciprocally loving or not.

John 12:1-8

As we enter into Holy Week starting next Sunday, we are encountering mysteries that can only be expressed in music and song. It’s a messy week steeped in humanity: the very same humanity that is full of joy, and beauty, and complexity, and pain, and uncertainty, and everything else under the sun; the very same humanity within us that sings.

John 11

All Saints' Day is when we break the silence on grief—pull the cork out of the bottle together—and acknowledge that to be alive, means to have a relationship to death. Life, and death, are always talking to each other.

Psalm 78:23-29 and John 6:35, 41-51

Once we eat of the bread of life, we will come back again and again and again—because we know that there is a bread that never runs out, a Sustainer that never lets go. Once we go to God’s wide table, we’ll never be able to leave. Nothing else will ever compare.

John 20:1-16, 18

Look into the empty tomb and be changed by it. Listen to the voice of love beckoning to you. In doing so, you might find the living God.

John 1:1-5, 10-14

We start Lent with the joy and hope of sticking around, praying that we might catch a better glimpse of that light of God in our midst.