Follow the Star: Service

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Text: Mark 1:29-38, Isaiah 40:21-31
Today, as we follow the star, we hear an invitation from God to serve.
Why do we serve?
Is it because we are trying to earn our salvation?
Is it to gain brownie points with God or with others?
Do we serve from a sense of duty or obligation?
Or is our service simply the fruit of a life spent focused on God?
The way we demonstrate our gratitude for the gifts that have blessed our lives?

Today we have two passages to consider and before we dive into these powerful words from Isaiah, I think we need to situate them a bit in history.
Isaiah was a prophet of Judah, or the southern half of what was Israel.
After King David died, his kingdom was split into two. The blue part of this map was known as Israel and the yellow portion is the southern kingdom of Judah.
God wanted the people to serve.
To trust.
To let God be the king of their lives.
Not because God needed anything from them, but because it reflected God’s desires for the human family.
But both kingdoms had basically said, “No thank you, Lord! We want to try to do this ourselves.”

This is the God of all creation!
This is the one who sets the stars in the sky and raises up nations and kings!
This is the one who had rescued them from Egypt and had given them the land in the first place!
Instead of having hearts full of gratitude…
Instead of allowing their lives to be shaped by the one who had given them life…
They turned their backs on their Redeemer.
And God let them fall.

As Isaiah is called to prophesy to the to the kingdom of Judah, Israel, the blue portion of this map had just been conquered by the Assyrians.
They were wiped off the map and out of history, never to be heard from again.
And the word that comes to Isaiah is this:
I am the God of all creation.
I am everything that you need.
Tell the people of Judah that if they don’t start to follow me, if they try to trust in their own might, they will only find ruin.
My way is the way of life… yours is the way of death.
For 39 chapters, this is what Isaiah preaches to the people of Judah.
He warns them.
He pleads with them.
All he has to do is point to the north and remind them of what happened to their neighbors.
But his words fall on deaf ears.
And the consequence of their failure to trust and obey and live faithful and fruitful lives is that the Babylonians come in and Judah is conquered.

But here is the really important part.
God does not forget the people in exile.
God calls Isaiah once again, this time with a message of comfort and hope.
This chapter you see, chapter 40, is a turning point.
The people realize they can’t do it on their own.
They realize how futile it is to try.
And now, when they have hit rock bottom, God is right there offering strength and hope and life.

Isaiah tells them that even young people will faith and grow weary if they try to do it on their own. They will fall exhausted by the side of the road.
Youth is not a prescription for strength.
Military might will not save you.
Protein shakes and weights will not build the kind of muscles you need.
If you want to be spiritually strong and whole and full of life the only place to turn is the Lord.
Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

Those who wait for the Lord…
Does it mean that we sit quietly and patiently?
That we stop everything else we are doing and just see what happens?
Not at all.
In fact, the Hebrew word for “waiting” is the same as the word used for twisting – like making a rope.
Far from being passive, this kind of waiting invokes the idea that you are being worked on, formed, and bound together.
Waiting on the Lord is being open and available to what God wants to do with your life.
There is the old joke about the man who prayed to God that he might win the lottery… but he never went out and bought a ticket.
This kind of waiting isn’t just sitting back and seeing if God will act.
It is active.
It is expectant.
It is full of hope and tension and we put our lives in the right place by waiting upon the Lord in service and worship.

I have been thinking about the process of bringing new life into the world through pregnancy. Any mother can tell you that this kind of waiting is not passive.
It is painful and full of uncomfortable moments.
You can’t just sit back and wait for something to happen.
What you eat matters. What you drink matters. How you move matters.
And in the process, two lives are entwined and bound together.

That’s what it is like to wait upon the Lord.
Our live becomes entwined with Gods as we serve and worship.
In the process, God’s strength becomes our strength.
And then God takes the single cord that is our life and twists it together with others in the church so that we are made even stronger.

Which brings me to Simon Peter’s mother-in-law.
In our gospel reading for today, Jesus enters this home and discovers that she is ill.
This isn’t just a cold, she is confined to bed with a fever.
Jesus enters the room and gently takes her by the hand and the fever is gone.
He helps her to her feet.
The very next thing she does… is to wait on them.

Now, there have been many times in the past when I have read this verse with a little bit of indignation.
I mean, what kind of a sexist message is being taught here, that the instant a woman is well, she jumps out of bed to serve the men?
But if we examine the text a little bit closely, we discover something interesting.
She waits upon them… like we are called to wait upon the Lord.
Her labor is not a menial household task, but the word we find here in greek is diakanos.
Diakanos is ministry.
It is the same word used to describe how the angels wait upon Jesus in the wilderness.
The same word Jesus uses when he washes the feet of his disciples and calls them to serve.
The same word used by the church to send out the first deacons.
Those who wait upon the Lord renew their strength.
Those who serve the Lord find abundant life.

Here was a woman who was trapped in her bed by her illness, much like the Judeans were in exile.
And yet, she waited in expectant hope.
She actively lived a life ready for God to work through her.
And just as God reached out to bring the people of Judah out of captivity, Jesus stretched out his hand to lift her up.
Her act of service in this moment is not just out of gratitude for what God has done and is doing in her life.
It is the fruit of a lifetime spent attentive to God’s will in her life.
And before even her own son-in-law figures out what he is doing as a disciple, she is already at work saying yes to God.
As Megan McKenna notes: “the first four followers of Jesus become five…”

Throughout this season of Epiphany, we have been following the star.
We’ve explored how God is revealed in our lives and reclaimed our identity.
Together we have received the invitation to follow… along with the call to repent.
Last week we talked about what it means to allow the authority of God to shape our realities.
Each of these star-words have been a step in a journey.
A journey that helps us to let go of the idea that we can do it ourselves.
A journey that reminds us that it is only in God that we find the strength and the power to keep going.
Only when we place our lives in God’s hands, in worship and service, will we truly discover life.

In her weekly reflection, Debie Thomas shares a quote from Annie Dillard’s book, The Writing Life: “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.”
Even as I say those words, I think about how many hours in the last year I have spent on the couch watching shows on Netflix.
So often, we have grand plans for how we will live out our faith in the future.
I’ll be a disciple someday when I have time, or more energy, or the kids are grown.
As Thomas notes, they are “days filled with intention, purpose, and meaning. Days meticulously scheduled and beautifully executed. Days marked by attentiveness, order, devotion, and beauty. When I get around to living those days – maybe tomorrow? Maybe next month? – then I will begin to sculpt my life.”
What if instead, we simply allowed Jesus to take us by the hand and we got up and began to serve?
What if we stopped trying to do it our way and instead allowed God’s strength to lift our weary spirits and to twist and shape and transform our moments.
What if we stopped passively waiting for a mountain top moment, but claimed this day, right now, as when our life in God can begin.
How will you spend this day?

The Wise and the Lazy

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Text: Matthew 25

This morning in worship, we are actually covering the three discussions of the Kingdom of Heaven we find in Matthew chapter 25.

The ten bridesmaids.
The valuable coins.
And the sheep and the goats.

So often when we look at these stories, we examine them in isolation. We look at them one at a time and try to discern the moral of each of these tales.

So in the parable of the ten bridesmaids, we discover a lesson about being prepared.
Ten bridesmaids are waiting for the groom to show up. Five were wise and brought plenty of oil for their lamps. But five were foolish and left the extra oil behind. When the groom finally shows up, the foolish bridesmaids don’t have enough oil and have to run out and buy some and they get back too late. They get shut out of the party.
This is the perfect boy scout parable right? Be prepared.

In the parable of the valuable coins, we discover a lesson about stewardship.
A man goes on a trip and leaves his wealth to his servants. One gets five coins, another two, and the last one… each according to their ability. The first two take those coins and make more wealth, but the last one is afraid and hides the coin. When the master returns, the first two servants are celebrated and promoted, but the final one is thrown out.
Take your gifts and your talents, we discover, and use them, don’t bury them.

And of course there is that familiar passage about the sheep and the goats.
The Son of Man will sit on the throne in the final days and will judge the people. Those who served their neighbor are those who served Jesus. They will inherit the Kingdom of Heaven. But those who ignored their neighbors, looking out only for themselves, will sent away to eternal punishment.
We Methodists love this parable. It reminds us that loving our neighbor is just as important as loving our God. Sometimes, we even say that it’s all that matters. That our good deeds will get us into heaven.

Why did Matthew choose to link these three stories about the Kingdom together?
Let’s look at what surrounds it.
Matthew 24 is apocalyptic, describing what will happen at the end of the age, the end times as we like to talk about it today.
There will be signs of trouble, earthquakes, famines, hate and betrayal…
There is a “disgusting and destructive thing” that shows up… a nod back to the apocalyptic visions of Daniel and the abomination in the temple when the daily sacrifice is abolished.
People will flee, the whole world will experience great suffering, the skies will darken…
And then the Human One, the Son of man will appear to gather the chosen ones.
No one will know when this will happen except God, so we should be prepared and keep alert and keep working, like wise and faithful servants.

Okay… so that is what comes before our three stories for this morning.
But what comes after?
Jesus is handed over.
Judas betrays him.
He shares in a final meal with the disciples and then they in turn fall away.
He is arrested, put on trial, and killed.
And after his resurrection, Jesus ascends to heaven.

Sandwiched in between apocalyptic visions and the crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus we find these three stories.
Matthew is writing to a community that is living after the resurrection.
He is writing to people whose master is away.
But they are also experiencing trials and persecution and conflict.
It felt like their world was ending and like the Kingdom of Heaven was a long way off.
What should they do in this time of waiting?

On Wednesday, I heard an interview with Thao Nguyen, a musician who wrote a song about her own apocalyptic reality in San Francisco. On September 9th, the skies turned orange from the area wildfires and she tried to make sense of what it all meant:
“It was just this culminating event to capture unspeakable despair and defeat… You can’t help but reckon in a more existential way – to ask, what have we wrought? What have we desecrated? What is sacred, and how do we protect it, and are we willing to? I mean that in the environment, I mean that in people. What lives matter? Where is our grace?”

I think today, we find ourselves in a place where we can really relate to those early Christians who would have first heard the Gospel of Matthew.
With all of the trouble that we are experiencing, it feels like everything is falling apart.
We are weary of this pandemic.
We are weary of working for institutional change in the church and in our society.
We are wearing of fighting with one another.
We want to throw in the towel.
Run to our separate corners.
Focus on ourselves.
Drink an extra glass of wine to numb the world.
But the message Jesus offers here is to not let your love grow cold.
Keep calm.
Keep the faith.
Keep going.
Don’t be distracted.
Don’t give up.
Don’t stop building the Kingdom.

I think the lynchpin for interpreting the three stories we find in Matthew 25 is actually a little parable about faithful servants at the end of chapter 24.
The ones who take care to keep fulfilling their responsibilities while the master is away, unlike the bad servants who think, eh, it will be a while, and focus on their own selfish objectives.
What are our responsibilities at the servants of God right here and right now?
What is sacred and how can we protect it, fight for it, live into it?
How should we faithfully wait?

Let’s go back to those parables…
In the parable of the bridesmaids, I find the reminder to hang on to the truth that there really will be a wedding someday.
We are coming near to the season of Advent where we wait for the coming of Jesus and we aren’t simply preparing for Christmas. We are waiting for the day that Jesus will come again to bring the Kingdom of Heaven about in all of its fullness.
We can’t simply go about our own business while we wait – we are called to be bridesmaids, getting ready for that day.
I notice this time around when I read the text that ALL of the bridesmaids, not just those labeled as foolish, fell asleep on the job.
Waiting and working for the Kingdom can be tiresome work.
But we have to keep laboring in God’s name.

I also start to notice the fear in the parable.
First, the unprepared and foolish bridesmaids were afraid.
They were afraid that they would be found wanting. That they were inadequate. That they had to have it all together to be included.
And so they run off and turn away and leave their responsibilities in order to try to compensate.
I begin to wonder… what would have happened if they had just stuck around? If they showed up just as they were?
On the other hand, the “wise” bridesmaids were filled with fear, too.
You see, they thought if they shared their oil, there wouldn’t be enough for them.
They forgot the whole purpose of the coming celebration was to be together.
And when they let fear and scarcity rule their hearts, they turn away from mercy and hospitality and it leaves five of their friends out in the dark.

Suddenly this parable is not about making sure we are prepared so we can get into heaven but is a call to actively wait, to show up as we are, and to share what we have so that all can experience God’s Kingdom.

Okay… what about the parable of the talents?
Well, the first thing I notice this time is that this isn’t a separate story.
If we look at the Greek, it is actually a continuation of the previous one.
For like a man who is absent calls in his servants and entrusts everything he has to them, we are called to actively wait for his return.
We are called to build upon what Jesus has left to us.
Two of these servants do this, but the third is afraid.
Ahh, there is fear again!
This servant was given incredible responsibility, but neglected to do their part.

You see, the Kingdom of Heaven is not a gift that we are given when we accept Jesus, only to hide and hoard, waiting for the day the master finally returns.
The Kingdom of Heaven is about what we are building with that gift right now.

This point is driven home in the final of these three stories.
We get a vision of what will happen when the Son of Man finally appears.
When the master returns home.
When the Kingdom of Heaven arrives in its fullness.
And we find a sort of parallel of the less familiar story at the end of Matthew 24.
Those who inherit the Kingdom are those who have been faithful servants.
In her weekly reflection, Debie Thomas writes, “the coming of God’s kingdom in all of its healing, justice-making fullness is the yardstick against which we must measure all of our own healing, justice-making efforts. The wedding feast is our ideal, our goal, our destination. Without it, we have no standard. No accountability. Nothing to lean into, nothing to work towards, nothing to anticipate as we labor in God’s name.”
In other words, everything we do right now should be held up to what we expect to find in the Kingdom of Heaven.
This parable isn’t about earning a ticket into heaven.
It is about embracing the Kingdom of Heaven right here and right now.
The fullness of life, true aliveness, eternal life is ours.
Not just living as if it our reality, but claiming it AS our reality.
Not being afraid of judgment, or imperfection, or scarcity, but simply being faithful.
Putting one foot in front of the other every day.
No matter what happens.
Wars or earthquakes or famine or persecution…
All of that is temporary and none of it excuses us from the work that is before us.

Those who are shut out of the Kingdom of Heaven, you see, are the ones who simply have failed to live within it.
The bad servants who said to themselves, eh, I’ll worry about that later.
No, now is the time.
Now is the Kingdom.
All around you is heaven.
Let’s get to work.

Mystery: Deserted

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“Justice too long delayed is justice denied.”
If you never have an opportunity to make your case…
If you are never allowed to truly be heard and seen…
If you believe that if someone just listened to you, they would see what was wrong…

Job cries out for justice.
He cries out for a hearing, a trial, an opportunity to lay out his case before the Lord.
And the days and weeks pass and no one is listening.
No one is paying attention to his pleas.
No one truly sees his struggle.

His friends try.
In fact, for 29 chapters there is a back and forth between Job and his friends.
They take turns speaking, lifting up platitudes, calling Job to repentance… and after each speech, Job responds in turn… his frustration growing with every sentence.

You see, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, believe that God is a God of justice, like Job does.
A God of retributive justice.
You get what you deserve.
If you live a righteous life, then you are blessed with peace and prosperity.
If you do unrighteous things, if you sin, then you are punished.

And those friends are looking at Job’s sorry state – his loss of family and income and now bodily distress.
Seeing all of that pain and misery, they conclude that if he is suffering, it has to be because he has done something wrong.
They take turns, but each one of them makes the case, that Job must be reaping something he himself has sown.

Don’t we do that?
When we see someone who has an unfortunate life experience or seems to be down on their luck, isn’t our first response to wonder what mistakes they might have made or how they got themselves into that situation?
We make assumptions about the cause of another person’s anguish, instead of simply being present and listening to them.
These friends… they don’t listen.
They don’t question their own assumptions.
Instead, they leap to intervention.
They see just how much harm has come into Job’s life.
Each one feels like they now have a burden to uncover his sin, point it out, so that Job can repent of that sin.
And this is because while they believe God is just, they also believe God is merciful.
“Happy is the person whom God corrects; so don’t reject the Almighty’s instruction. He injuries but he binds up; he strikes, but his hands heal.” (Job 5:17-18)
If they can get Job to repent, they believe they will save his life.

But for every one of their speeches, Job has an answer.
He has done nothing wrong.
Can’t they see that?
Can’t God see that?
We get a glimpse of his responses in our scripture reading for today. In yet another of these cycles where his friends speak and he responds, Job declares he is innocent and he demands justice… but God won’t even show up in his life so that Job can question him and lay out the case for his innocence.

“Justice too long delayed is justice denied.”

Those words from legal wisdom were echoed by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as he sat in a jail cell in Birmingham, Alabama.
He, too, is responding to friends – colleagues – the white Jewish and Christian leaders of the day, who had criticized the methods and timing of the demonstrations taking place in the city.
Dr. King was seeking justice for those who were suffering from racial injustice and segregation in the city, and was willing to put his own life and liberty on the line for the freedom of others.
What he encountered instead, was that people who should have been on his side – namely the white moderates – were instead finding all sorts of reasons to delay justice.
Like Job’s friends, they were making all sorts of assumptions about what was the cause of injustice and what might remedy it.
This isn’t the right path of action.
You aren’t the right person for the task.
It isn’t the right time.

He answers every single one of their charges and then finally turns his attention to this question of waiting.
“There comes a time,” Dr. King writes, “when the cup of endurance runs over and men are no longer willing to be plunged into an abyss of despair.”

There comes a time when you simply can’t wait any longer.
When the delay of justice becomes a denial of justice.
When it feels like no one is listening and you have been absolutely deserted.

That loneliness can be found in Dr. King’s letter.
We see it throughout Job’s pleas to God.
We can also hear it in the words of Christ on the cross, echoing the psalmist – “My God, My God, why have you left me?”

You see, along the path towards true justice are moments of doubt when we aren’t sure we can keep going.
The fight appears too daunting.
The resistance is overwhelming.
There is no energy left to carry on.
And the loneliness… maybe that is the worst part.
Feeling like you are in this all by yourself and that there is no one out there to help you and no one out there is even listening.
But you also can’t wait any longer.

That desperation is all over Job’s pleas that we read in our passage of scripture today.
He wants his day in court.
He still, firmly, unwaveringly believes that God is a God of justice and if he could only make his case that he would be justified.

In many ways, Job helps us to find our way forward in our own times of great agony.
When we don’t receive answers those deep questions about why something is happening, we could choose to turn our back on God altogether.
We could also resign ourselves and simply give in – This must be what God wants, I guess I should just accept it… in fact, remember this was Job’s initial response when everything was taken from him.

Or, we can resist the suffering we see in our life or in the life of others. We can actively fight against it while at the same time clinging to our faith….
Rev. Nathalie Nelson Parker sees this paradox through the lens of theologian Martin Buber: “’Job’s faith in Justice is not broken down. But he is no longer able to have a single faith in God and Justice.’ Although God and Justice are not mutually aligned in his current situation, ‘He cannot forego his claim that they will again be united, somewhere, sometime, although he has no idea in his mind how this will be achieved.’”

Or as Dr. King once said, the moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends towards Justice.

In the face of suffering, it is hard to cling to hope.
It is hard to see God’s presence.
Both Job and Dr. King remind us of the persistent struggle to be seen, to be heard, to be known… and what it means to keep fighting, even when you feel like you are fighting all along.

I think for many of us, the question, however, isn’t what it means to be the one who sits in lament and struggle, but what it means to be the friends and the bystanders… the ones who so often make assumptions about where God is and what is really happening.

Rather than making excuses for God…
Rather than making assumptions about what is wrong in the lives of other people…
Rather than pushing our own understanding of what is right and wrong…
Maybe what we should do is sit back and listen.
Listen to the cries of suffering and injustice.
Listen to what those who are oppressed or struggling would like us to do.
Listen for where God might be calling us to lay aside our own assumptions.
Simply listen.
May it be so. Amen.

Focus!

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My aunt Barb was an amazing woman.  She put a positive spin on everything that she experienced.  She had an incredible work ethic and loved her catering and restaurant businesses.  But she also deeply loved those she worked with and her family grew to include not only her own flesh and blood, but also their employees.  She lived out her faith with such a genuine passion that encouraged others to claim their own.

And, my aunt had a focus in her life.  She knew that God loved her and that God had called her to love and serve others.  She found her passion – cooking – and used it to bless as many people as possible in this world, loving and serving them through food.  Whether it was bread broken around a family dinner table or a festive celebration, Barb was an instrument of God’s work in this world.

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about Barb as I wrestled with the text from Mark this morning.

When I think about Simon’s mother-in-law, lying in that bed, sick with a fever that was threatening to take her life, I think about the low points in my aunt’s journey with cancer.

The days when the pain was too much. Or when she felt too weak.

When her singular focus was trying to get back up out of that bed and to get back to taking care of others.

 

When we read this passage in Mark, sometimes we might wonder what kind of cultural expectations would have led this woman, who only moments before was ill, to serve these men who have visited her house.

But we miss that this is her opportunity to once again reclaim her focus and take up her calling: her place in the community, her role. The phrase used her for her service is the same term used for a deacon.  As Megan McKenna notes (On Your Mark: Reading Mark in the Shadow of the Cross):

She “ministers” to him, just as the “angels ministered to [Jesus]” during his time in the desert. Jesus has gone out to Simon’s mother-in-law in her disease and grasped her by the hand … In gratitude for his taking hold of her and giving her life to do his work, she responds wholeheartedly. Now the first four followers of Jesus become five in number.

Her strength comes not only from the healing power of Jesus.

Her strength comes from her focus on serving Jesus.

She has bound herself to him.

She has let him come into her life and now it is Christ’s strength that flows out of her.

 

Even on really difficult days, I was amazed at the strength my aunt found to do just that because she hoped in the Lord, the creator of the ends of the earth.

In Isaiah, chapter 40, we are reminded that even young people like myself will faint and be weary if we try to go on our own.  We will fall absolutely exhausted by the side of the road.  Simple youth is not a prescription for strength or health.  Military might cannot save us.  Protein shakes and lifting weights cannot build the kind of muscles that we need to endure through our darkest days.

My aunt Barb was able to tap into a spiritual strength that helped her to make the most of every moment of her life. She crossed items off her bucket list, passed on wisdom and insight, brought joy to her grandkids and nieces and nephews and their kids.

Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

 

Those who wait for the Lord…

The Hebrew word for “waiting” here is the same as the word used for twisting – like making a rope.  It is not a passive state, but one of tension as you are being worked on.  This kind of waiting is focused, expectant, gathering together all that you need to keep going.  (from Lindy Black). 

As an expectant mother waits for new life to come into the world, the waiting is not passive… it can often be painful.  It is full of uncomfortable moments.  It is filled with longing and stretching.  And a kind of singular focus takes over:  What you eat matters. What you drink matters. How you move matters.  A relationship is formed in the process of the waiting.  Your life and their life is bound together – it is entwined.

That’s how it should be when we wait for the Lord…

our life becomes entwined with God’s as we worship and serve…

as we are bound together…

and in the process, God’s strength becomes our strength.

God takes our single cord and with others in the church we are made into the many… we are made strong.

God’s strength and Barb’s strength became the strength of our entire family as God took her by the hand and raised her up to find healing in the next life.

 

For Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, that healing came in this life, as Jesus entered her room, took her by the hand, and raised her up.

As Sarah Henrich notes (http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1200) , this “raising” describes the strength given to someone so they “may again rise up to take their place in the world.”

And this is how the church should always be responding to the power of God in our midst.

Suzanne Guthrie writes:

[She] is lifted up, as in the Resurrection…

And she begins to serve – just as the apostles are sent out…

She is the church’s first deacon. She announces the Gospel by her action.

Healed, transformed, and readily at service she slips into her role as easily as if her life-time had prepared her for it…

She serves, like Jesus himself…

She receives the Light into her home, she is raised up by the Light, the Light shines through her as she ministers to others.

 

The healing, transformative power of God in our lives enables us to get up and be servants ourselves.

God reaches out to touch us through the bread on this table, through a prayer shawl from a friend, through a hug or a kind word.

And we, are called to rise up, to get out into this world to take our place and to live out our own calling.

Perhaps it is to make food or to teach.

Maybe it is to share music or laughter.

Maybe you have a ministry of writing cards and knitting or woodworking.

Whatever it is, God is asking you to focus on the strength of the Lord that will fill you up as you live out your purpose in this world.

So, let us come and be healed, so that we might go out and serve.