sola gratia

I heard recently about a young boy who was standing in his church’s narthex, admiring a large wooden plaque with bronze plates, each bearing someone’s name.  Curious, he asked an usher, “Why are all these names here?”   Smiling, the usher replied, “Those are the names of folks who died in the service.”   The boy paused, then—seeking clarification—inquired, “Was it the morning service or the evening service?”              It’s true that sometimes church services can seem somewhat dead.  It’s true as well that we who gather to worship can sometimes appear lifeless.  Our founder, John Wesley, was well aware of this; he wrote in his directions for singing (which can be found in the front of The United Methodist Hymnal ) that Christians should beware of singing as if they were “half dead, or half asleep.” [1]   The fact is, sometimes our hearts just aren’t in it.  Sometimes, when we assemble, ...

Tomorrow's Pentecost, upon which many Christians celebrate the birth of the Church.  But it's also recognized in The United Methodist Church as Heritage Sunday, a day upon which we remember and offer thanks for our denomination's rich history and those who paved the way for us.  Yet Pentecost and Methodism are linked by more than the coincidental alignment of these dates, as what's perhaps the most prominent symbol for Pentecost--fire, or flames--is an integral part of UM identity too, as seen in the cross and flame logo. The flame in the logo points toward the same Spirit by whose power the Church was formed and sent forth on Pentecost.  And yet, looking closely, one sees that there isn't one flame; there are two--divided, fiery "tongues" as it were--taken straight from the second chapter of Acts.  And still, the two flames remain connected--pointing not only to the two distinct denominations (the Methodist Church and the Evangelical United Brethren Ch...

Acts 9.36-43 | Psalm 23 | Revelation 7.9-17 | John 10.22-30 Our world’s been a scary place this past week.   The small town of West, Texas was rocked by the explosion of a fertilizer plant that left at least a dozen dead and more than two hundred injured; fifty homes were also destroyed by the blast.   There remains much uncertainty surrounding the event, including whether or not it was the result of criminal activity.   In another story, the FBI confirmed Thursday that letters sent by a Mississippi man to a U.S. senator, a judge, and President Obama contained ricin, a highly toxic and potentially-lethal poison.   But at the forefront of the news headlines was of course the bombing that took place at the Boston Marathon.   Two explosions near the finish line of the over twenty-six mile event left three dead, and more than one hundred and seventy-five injured.   One of the suspects was killed in a shootout with police; the other, his brother, was ap...

Acts 9.1-6 | John 21.1-19 Last Thursday evening was the sendoff, or opening service, for the men’s Purchase Area Walk to Emmaus number 113.  Serving on the team as an assistant spiritual director, I had the privilege of being present that night: seeing familiar faces, meeting new folks, and bearing witness to both the excitement and apprehension palpable among the pilgrims.  By now, their journey’s nearly over. And I’m confident the majority of them are feeling spiritually renewed in ways they never could’ve imagined.  But, as I indicated, the first night’s always a bit anxious.  You’re out of your comfort zone.  You aren’t sure what to expect.  And you’re in very close proximity to a bunch of other people, many of whom are strangers.  That’s why one of the first things that’s done is an activity called “My New Best Friend.”  In it, each pilgrim pairs up with whomever they happen to be sitting next to and shares their name, some family in...

Second Sunday of Easter (C) | 7-Apr-13  Acts 5.27-32 | Revelation 1.4-8 | John 20.19-31 What will be left when I’ve drawn my last breath, besides the folks I’ve met and the folks who’ve known me?             Will I discover a soul-saving love, or just the dirt above and below me? I’m a doubting Thomas: I took a promise, but I do not feel safe. Oh me of little faith. Sometimes I pray for a slap in the face, then I beg to be spared ‘cause I’m a coward. If there’s a master of death, I bet he’s holding his breath as I show the blind and tell the deaf about his power. I’m a doubting Thomas: I can’t keep my promises ‘cause I don’t know what’s safe. Oh me of little faith. Can I be used to help others find truth when I’m scared I’ll find proof that it’s a lie? Can I be led down a trail dropping bread crumbs that prove I’m not ready to die? Please give me time to decipher the signs; ...

Resurrection of the Lord (C) | 31-Mar-13 Acts 10.34-43 | 1 Corinthians 15.19-26 | Luke 24.1-12 It’d been three days.  But the terrifying images were still clear in their minds.  The horror of Friday was still all too near: the mocked, beaten, bloody, and nail-pierced horror of their beloved teacher and friend hanging—suffocating to death—on a rugged, wooden cross.  Emotionally spent and physically exhausted, it took all the strength they could muster just to rise that morning.  But they did.  At dawn, the women rose—among them Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Joanna—and made their way to the tomb, carrying “the spices that they had prepared” [1] to anoint his body: to give him a proper burial, to offer him one final honor. They froze in their tracks.  The Magdalene’s basket slipped from her hands and fell to the earth, saturating the dust with oil and perfume.  The women stood aghast at what they beheld: the stone had been m...