If you were asked what is your favorite parable, what would your answer be?  I think I can safely bet it isn’t the “Parable of the Wicked Tenants.” It’s an uncomfortable story, a disturbing story, that Jesus told the priests, scribes and elders who questioned his authority.  

As we journey through this Lenten season, we find ourselves walking alongside Jesus, witnessing the profound depth of his teachings and the sacrifices inherent in discipleship. In yesterday’s lessons from Mark’s gospel, Jesus uses with the parable of the vineyard owner and the tenants and an encounter with the Pharisees regarding taxes to show us the way of discipleship. These passages reveal a weighty responsibility placed upon us as followers of Jesus.

On Wednesday, we gathered again for mid-week evening prayer and to listen to another saint and martyr of the church as together we considered the cost of discipleship.  This week we encountered the profound reflections of Sister Teresa Benedicta.  She was born Jewish but converted to Catholicism, eventually becoming a Carmelite nun.   Her life as a devout Christian did not spare her from the horrors of the holocaust, and she was killed at Auschwitz in 1942.

The gospel of Mark begins: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Those who are closest to Jesus, the disciples, don’t seem to get it. Maybe we can identify with that.

The temptation to turn away from some of the heartbreaking images we see day after day is understandable. But God calls us to open our eyes not only to the beauty and goodness in the world, but to the pain and suffering, as well. Only when we are aware of our neighbor’s plight can we do whatever is in our power to help alleviate it. 

This past Wednesday we began our Lent Wednesday worship series, “Considering the Cost.” Each week the writings of a contemporary saint and martyr of the church are being shared. To start things off, we reflected on a powerful message delivered by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. during a Lenten sermon. As we listened in, we were reminded of the profound truth that love transcends all boundaries and obstacles. In his stirring sermon, Dr. King illuminated the transformative power of love, urging us to embrace Jesus’ command to love our enemies.

The Bible is filled with characters, literally and figuratively. Perhaps the best way to describe how the Bible portrays its characters is “human” because they are, in fact, human. The Bible is true and the people that inhabit its pages were real people with real problems, just like us.

In the bustling streets of Jerusalem, a rich young ruler approached Jesus, seeking the secret to eternal life. His earnest inquiry revealed a hunger for something deeper, something beyond the material wealth that adorned his life. Jesus, looking upon him with love, offered a radical challenge: “Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

In the marketplace of life, the question of who matters most often clamors for our attention. It’s a question that echoes through the ages, resonating even in the hearts of the disciples who walked alongside Jesus two millennia ago. Mark’s Gospel captures this timeless debate, illuminating the distractions that clouded their minds.

Today is Ash Wednesday. And in case you need reminding, today is also Valentine’s Day. It’s not often these two observances  coincide. It happened just three times in the 1900’s, and the same will be true of this century. They converged in 2018 and will fall on the same day again in 2029. And that will be it until the next century.

Yesterday, we concluded the season of Epiphany while bathed in divine splendor.  Tomorrow, many will celebrate “Fat Tuesday” and “Carnivale” in comparable brilliance.  The excess of these Mardi Gras festivities to be concluded in the coming days stand in stark contrast to the next phase of this spiritual journey God onto which God has invited us.

We are arriving at the end of this season of epiphany.  Since Christmas, we’ve taken time to contemplate how God’s arrival in and through the person of Jesus is an event of significance still today.  And this Sunday our story takes a profound turn.  But not first without a little divine razzle-dazzle.

This week we explore two healing stories in chapter 5 of the Gospel of Mark. Things happen fast in Mark’s Gospel. We have already seen Jesus heal five other people, including last week’s casting out a legion of demons from a man in gentile territory, east of the Sea of Galilee.

Within the church, every participant contributes a unique story, and within the heart of every community lies a sanctuary for healing. Just as yesterday’s story from Mark illuminates the transformative power of faith and community, so too does our shared journey unfold in the comforting embrace of those around us.

In the unfolding narrative of Mark’s gospel, this Sunday we’ll encounter a tapestry woven with threads of desperation, faith, and divine intervention. Two intertwined stories unfold, each a poignant reminder that the extraordinary still breaks into our ordinary lives, revealing the heartbeat of God and God’s vision for the world.

If you were asked what is your favorite parable, what would your answer be?  I think I can safely bet it isn’t the “Parable of the Wicked Tenants.” It’s an uncomfortable story, a disturbing story, that Jesus told the priests, scribes and elders who questioned his authority.  

As we journey through this Lenten season, we find ourselves walking alongside Jesus, witnessing the profound depth of his teachings and the sacrifices inherent in discipleship. In yesterday’s lessons from Mark’s gospel, Jesus uses with the parable of the vineyard owner and the tenants and an encounter with the Pharisees regarding taxes to show us the way of discipleship. These passages reveal a weighty responsibility placed upon us as followers of Jesus.

On Wednesday, we gathered again for mid-week evening prayer and to listen to another saint and martyr of the church as together we considered the cost of discipleship.  This week we encountered the profound reflections of Sister Teresa Benedicta.  She was born Jewish but converted to Catholicism, eventually becoming a Carmelite nun.   Her life as a devout Christian did not spare her from the horrors of the holocaust, and she was killed at Auschwitz in 1942.

The gospel of Mark begins: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Those who are closest to Jesus, the disciples, don’t seem to get it. Maybe we can identify with that.

The temptation to turn away from some of the heartbreaking images we see day after day is understandable. But God calls us to open our eyes not only to the beauty and goodness in the world, but to the pain and suffering, as well. Only when we are aware of our neighbor’s plight can we do whatever is in our power to help alleviate it. 

This past Wednesday we began our Lent Wednesday worship series, “Considering the Cost.” Each week the writings of a contemporary saint and martyr of the church are being shared. To start things off, we reflected on a powerful message delivered by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. during a Lenten sermon. As we listened in, we were reminded of the profound truth that love transcends all boundaries and obstacles. In his stirring sermon, Dr. King illuminated the transformative power of love, urging us to embrace Jesus’ command to love our enemies.

The Bible is filled with characters, literally and figuratively. Perhaps the best way to describe how the Bible portrays its characters is “human” because they are, in fact, human. The Bible is true and the people that inhabit its pages were real people with real problems, just like us.

In the bustling streets of Jerusalem, a rich young ruler approached Jesus, seeking the secret to eternal life. His earnest inquiry revealed a hunger for something deeper, something beyond the material wealth that adorned his life. Jesus, looking upon him with love, offered a radical challenge: “Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

In the marketplace of life, the question of who matters most often clamors for our attention. It’s a question that echoes through the ages, resonating even in the hearts of the disciples who walked alongside Jesus two millennia ago. Mark’s Gospel captures this timeless debate, illuminating the distractions that clouded their minds.

Today is Ash Wednesday. And in case you need reminding, today is also Valentine’s Day. It’s not often these two observances  coincide. It happened just three times in the 1900’s, and the same will be true of this century. They converged in 2018 and will fall on the same day again in 2029. And that will be it until the next century.

Yesterday, we concluded the season of Epiphany while bathed in divine splendor.  Tomorrow, many will celebrate “Fat Tuesday” and “Carnivale” in comparable brilliance.  The excess of these Mardi Gras festivities to be concluded in the coming days stand in stark contrast to the next phase of this spiritual journey God onto which God has invited us.

We are arriving at the end of this season of epiphany.  Since Christmas, we’ve taken time to contemplate how God’s arrival in and through the person of Jesus is an event of significance still today.  And this Sunday our story takes a profound turn.  But not first without a little divine razzle-dazzle.

This week we explore two healing stories in chapter 5 of the Gospel of Mark. Things happen fast in Mark’s Gospel. We have already seen Jesus heal five other people, including last week’s casting out a legion of demons from a man in gentile territory, east of the Sea of Galilee.

Within the church, every participant contributes a unique story, and within the heart of every community lies a sanctuary for healing. Just as yesterday’s story from Mark illuminates the transformative power of faith and community, so too does our shared journey unfold in the comforting embrace of those around us.

In the unfolding narrative of Mark’s gospel, this Sunday we’ll encounter a tapestry woven with threads of desperation, faith, and divine intervention. Two intertwined stories unfold, each a poignant reminder that the extraordinary still breaks into our ordinary lives, revealing the heartbeat of God and God’s vision for the world.

If you were asked what is your favorite parable, what would your answer be?  I think I can safely bet it isn’t the “Parable of the Wicked Tenants.” It’s an uncomfortable story, a disturbing story, that Jesus told the priests, scribes and elders who questioned his authority.  

As we journey through this Lenten season, we find ourselves walking alongside Jesus, witnessing the profound depth of his teachings and the sacrifices inherent in discipleship. In yesterday’s lessons from Mark’s gospel, Jesus uses with the parable of the vineyard owner and the tenants and an encounter with the Pharisees regarding taxes to show us the way of discipleship. These passages reveal a weighty responsibility placed upon us as followers of Jesus.

On Wednesday, we gathered again for mid-week evening prayer and to listen to another saint and martyr of the church as together we considered the cost of discipleship.  This week we encountered the profound reflections of Sister Teresa Benedicta.  She was born Jewish but converted to Catholicism, eventually becoming a Carmelite nun.   Her life as a devout Christian did not spare her from the horrors of the holocaust, and she was killed at Auschwitz in 1942.

The gospel of Mark begins: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Those who are closest to Jesus, the disciples, don’t seem to get it. Maybe we can identify with that.

The temptation to turn away from some of the heartbreaking images we see day after day is understandable. But God calls us to open our eyes not only to the beauty and goodness in the world, but to the pain and suffering, as well. Only when we are aware of our neighbor’s plight can we do whatever is in our power to help alleviate it. 

This past Wednesday we began our Lent Wednesday worship series, “Considering the Cost.” Each week the writings of a contemporary saint and martyr of the church are being shared. To start things off, we reflected on a powerful message delivered by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. during a Lenten sermon. As we listened in, we were reminded of the profound truth that love transcends all boundaries and obstacles. In his stirring sermon, Dr. King illuminated the transformative power of love, urging us to embrace Jesus’ command to love our enemies.

The Bible is filled with characters, literally and figuratively. Perhaps the best way to describe how the Bible portrays its characters is “human” because they are, in fact, human. The Bible is true and the people that inhabit its pages were real people with real problems, just like us.

In the bustling streets of Jerusalem, a rich young ruler approached Jesus, seeking the secret to eternal life. His earnest inquiry revealed a hunger for something deeper, something beyond the material wealth that adorned his life. Jesus, looking upon him with love, offered a radical challenge: “Sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

In the marketplace of life, the question of who matters most often clamors for our attention. It’s a question that echoes through the ages, resonating even in the hearts of the disciples who walked alongside Jesus two millennia ago. Mark’s Gospel captures this timeless debate, illuminating the distractions that clouded their minds.

Today is Ash Wednesday. And in case you need reminding, today is also Valentine’s Day. It’s not often these two observances  coincide. It happened just three times in the 1900’s, and the same will be true of this century. They converged in 2018 and will fall on the same day again in 2029. And that will be it until the next century.

Yesterday, we concluded the season of Epiphany while bathed in divine splendor.  Tomorrow, many will celebrate “Fat Tuesday” and “Carnivale” in comparable brilliance.  The excess of these Mardi Gras festivities to be concluded in the coming days stand in stark contrast to the next phase of this spiritual journey God onto which God has invited us.

We are arriving at the end of this season of epiphany.  Since Christmas, we’ve taken time to contemplate how God’s arrival in and through the person of Jesus is an event of significance still today.  And this Sunday our story takes a profound turn.  But not first without a little divine razzle-dazzle.

This week we explore two healing stories in chapter 5 of the Gospel of Mark. Things happen fast in Mark’s Gospel. We have already seen Jesus heal five other people, including last week’s casting out a legion of demons from a man in gentile territory, east of the Sea of Galilee.

Within the church, every participant contributes a unique story, and within the heart of every community lies a sanctuary for healing. Just as yesterday’s story from Mark illuminates the transformative power of faith and community, so too does our shared journey unfold in the comforting embrace of those around us.

In the unfolding narrative of Mark’s gospel, this Sunday we’ll encounter a tapestry woven with threads of desperation, faith, and divine intervention. Two intertwined stories unfold, each a poignant reminder that the extraordinary still breaks into our ordinary lives, revealing the heartbeat of God and God’s vision for the world.