Yesterday, I shared the story of my friend and colleague Steve Sylvester, whose son died in a tragic accident earlier this year and for whom our congregation had hosted a funeral . As Steve reflected on the past few months, he was able to recognize that, all thing considered, he was doing ok.  As much as this kind of grief could have the capacity to cripple anyone, Steve was surprised by how he has been able to keep going.  And he credits his faith as the place from which he’s drawn whatever strength he’s needed to get through each new day. Steve said, “I’m thankful that I believed before I had to.”

I’ve spent my fair share of time in vineyards and wineries; each one is different.  In the big business of winemaking, there are so many beautiful facilities, funded by big-monied interests eager to promote a high value experience with their gleaming tasting rooms and temples to the finer things in life.  But I have always preferred visiting the wineries willing to show an altogether different side of winemaking, the side that is messy with dirt and leaves and spilled grape juice.

In this beautiful and profound passage the prophet Hosea takes us into God to probe what happens for GOD in the divine relationship with Israel.

God’s vision for the world, over and over in scripture, is linked to the thriving of the generations that follow. And the capacity of this flourishing is rooted in their care and concern for the youngest. This is something that our evangelist Mark helps Jesus to underscore as he is teaching his disciples. These curious children that are coming close to Jesus, need to be centered not shushed or shunned. “The kingdom that God is creating belongs to them!” teaches Jesus. At once, the disciples and we know exactly where God’s imagined future will be planted.

In the garden of life, each of us is a seed waiting to be planted, nurtured, and grown for the flourishing of God’s world. As we dig into the fertile soil of our existence, we find inspiration in the words of Jesus from Mark’s gospel, where he beckons the little ones to him, declaring, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.”

This week’s lesson from 1 Kings is a stomach-turner. I agreed to write the devotion for this challenging text several weeks ago, even making the offhand remark that “I must be feeling violent.”

In the dazzling world of modern illusionists, the art of magic is often marked by elaborate showmanship and the mystique of spectacle. Yet, it is a stark contrast to the profound biblical story we encountered in worship yesterday.  When Elijah challenged the 450 prophets of Baal, true power was found not in the grandeur but in Elijah’s unwavering faith.

Mark Glaeser & Donna Hanna led the music ministry of Christ Lutheran Church in Charlotte, North Carolina when their pastor asked them to write a hymn for an upcoming capital campaign.  Like the practice of many campaigns, a theme was taken from a relevant piece of scripture.  The campaign at Christ Lutheran that year would rely on the New Testament letter to the Colossians.

“Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott,” the battle hymn of the Reformation, or perhaps the Lutheran fight song, can be heard in many languages and many churches at this time of year. At gatherings in Europe, I’ve heard the hymn sung in English, German, Slovak, and Hungarian, even simultaneously. It’s comforting to think of God as a protective wall around us, a mighty fortress, especially when battered by enemies. Safety is comfortable.

Yesterday, I shared the story of my friend and colleague Steve Sylvester, whose son died in a tragic accident earlier this year and for whom our congregation had hosted a funeral . As Steve reflected on the past few months, he was able to recognize that, all thing considered, he was doing ok.  As much as this kind of grief could have the capacity to cripple anyone, Steve was surprised by how he has been able to keep going.  And he credits his faith as the place from which he’s drawn whatever strength he’s needed to get through each new day. Steve said, “I’m thankful that I believed before I had to.”

I’ve spent my fair share of time in vineyards and wineries; each one is different.  In the big business of winemaking, there are so many beautiful facilities, funded by big-monied interests eager to promote a high value experience with their gleaming tasting rooms and temples to the finer things in life.  But I have always preferred visiting the wineries willing to show an altogether different side of winemaking, the side that is messy with dirt and leaves and spilled grape juice.

In this beautiful and profound passage the prophet Hosea takes us into God to probe what happens for GOD in the divine relationship with Israel.

God’s vision for the world, over and over in scripture, is linked to the thriving of the generations that follow. And the capacity of this flourishing is rooted in their care and concern for the youngest. This is something that our evangelist Mark helps Jesus to underscore as he is teaching his disciples. These curious children that are coming close to Jesus, need to be centered not shushed or shunned. “The kingdom that God is creating belongs to them!” teaches Jesus. At once, the disciples and we know exactly where God’s imagined future will be planted.

In the garden of life, each of us is a seed waiting to be planted, nurtured, and grown for the flourishing of God’s world. As we dig into the fertile soil of our existence, we find inspiration in the words of Jesus from Mark’s gospel, where he beckons the little ones to him, declaring, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.”

This week’s lesson from 1 Kings is a stomach-turner. I agreed to write the devotion for this challenging text several weeks ago, even making the offhand remark that “I must be feeling violent.”

In the dazzling world of modern illusionists, the art of magic is often marked by elaborate showmanship and the mystique of spectacle. Yet, it is a stark contrast to the profound biblical story we encountered in worship yesterday.  When Elijah challenged the 450 prophets of Baal, true power was found not in the grandeur but in Elijah’s unwavering faith.

Mark Glaeser & Donna Hanna led the music ministry of Christ Lutheran Church in Charlotte, North Carolina when their pastor asked them to write a hymn for an upcoming capital campaign.  Like the practice of many campaigns, a theme was taken from a relevant piece of scripture.  The campaign at Christ Lutheran that year would rely on the New Testament letter to the Colossians.

“Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott,” the battle hymn of the Reformation, or perhaps the Lutheran fight song, can be heard in many languages and many churches at this time of year. At gatherings in Europe, I’ve heard the hymn sung in English, German, Slovak, and Hungarian, even simultaneously. It’s comforting to think of God as a protective wall around us, a mighty fortress, especially when battered by enemies. Safety is comfortable.

Yesterday, I shared the story of my friend and colleague Steve Sylvester, whose son died in a tragic accident earlier this year and for whom our congregation had hosted a funeral . As Steve reflected on the past few months, he was able to recognize that, all thing considered, he was doing ok.  As much as this kind of grief could have the capacity to cripple anyone, Steve was surprised by how he has been able to keep going.  And he credits his faith as the place from which he’s drawn whatever strength he’s needed to get through each new day. Steve said, “I’m thankful that I believed before I had to.”

I’ve spent my fair share of time in vineyards and wineries; each one is different.  In the big business of winemaking, there are so many beautiful facilities, funded by big-monied interests eager to promote a high value experience with their gleaming tasting rooms and temples to the finer things in life.  But I have always preferred visiting the wineries willing to show an altogether different side of winemaking, the side that is messy with dirt and leaves and spilled grape juice.

In this beautiful and profound passage the prophet Hosea takes us into God to probe what happens for GOD in the divine relationship with Israel.

God’s vision for the world, over and over in scripture, is linked to the thriving of the generations that follow. And the capacity of this flourishing is rooted in their care and concern for the youngest. This is something that our evangelist Mark helps Jesus to underscore as he is teaching his disciples. These curious children that are coming close to Jesus, need to be centered not shushed or shunned. “The kingdom that God is creating belongs to them!” teaches Jesus. At once, the disciples and we know exactly where God’s imagined future will be planted.

In the garden of life, each of us is a seed waiting to be planted, nurtured, and grown for the flourishing of God’s world. As we dig into the fertile soil of our existence, we find inspiration in the words of Jesus from Mark’s gospel, where he beckons the little ones to him, declaring, “Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.”

This week’s lesson from 1 Kings is a stomach-turner. I agreed to write the devotion for this challenging text several weeks ago, even making the offhand remark that “I must be feeling violent.”

In the dazzling world of modern illusionists, the art of magic is often marked by elaborate showmanship and the mystique of spectacle. Yet, it is a stark contrast to the profound biblical story we encountered in worship yesterday.  When Elijah challenged the 450 prophets of Baal, true power was found not in the grandeur but in Elijah’s unwavering faith.

Mark Glaeser & Donna Hanna led the music ministry of Christ Lutheran Church in Charlotte, North Carolina when their pastor asked them to write a hymn for an upcoming capital campaign.  Like the practice of many campaigns, a theme was taken from a relevant piece of scripture.  The campaign at Christ Lutheran that year would rely on the New Testament letter to the Colossians.

“Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott,” the battle hymn of the Reformation, or perhaps the Lutheran fight song, can be heard in many languages and many churches at this time of year. At gatherings in Europe, I’ve heard the hymn sung in English, German, Slovak, and Hungarian, even simultaneously. It’s comforting to think of God as a protective wall around us, a mighty fortress, especially when battered by enemies. Safety is comfortable.