Discipling Life

Let us pray. God of grace, we ask that you quiet the noise within us today. Steal our wandering thoughts, our anxious hearts, and our busy minds, allowing this moment to belong wholly to you. May the words spoken be your words and may the hearts that hear them be softened by your Spirit. Let the message of this Palm and Passion Sunday shape us into a people formed more fully by the mind of Christ. Amen. Date:  March 29, 2026 (Palm/Passion Sunday)  Speaker:  Alan Swartz  Scripture Focus:   Philippians 2:5-11, Matthew 27:11-54 | Audio Recording We begin this way because we recognize that spiritual stillness is a prerequisite for hearing the divine word. We must quiet the noise because, without this deliberate pause, the message of the cross is easily lost in the static of our daily anxieties. By entering into this quiet, we move beyond the mere historical mechanics of how Jesus died. We stop looking at the Roman nails and the political maneuvering and begin to ...

Have you ever walked into a space that was supposed to feel welcoming — a waiting room, a church foyer, a neighbor’s home — and instead felt invisible? Maybe the room was full of activity, but none of it seemed meant for you. You stood at the edge, unsure whether you belonged. That feeling of being crowded out, overlooked, or quietly excluded is more common than we like to admit. And it turns out, it’s not a new problem. [See  Mark 11:12-24; Matthew 21:12-22 ] On the Monday after his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, Jesus returned to the Temple — the holiest place in Jewish life, the dwelling place of God’s name and presence. What he found there should have been a house of prayer. Instead, it had become something else entirely. What Jesus Found — and What He Did Mark 11:15–17 (NRSVue) tells us: “Then they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling and those who were buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the mone...

When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred. Crowds spread their cloaks on the road. Children shouted. People waved branches and cried out: “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!” (v. 21:9) [Today's text -  Matthew 21:1-11, 27:20-23 ] Matthew tells us that after Jesus entered the city, people asked a simple but life‑changing question: “Who is this?” (v. 21:10) They saw a healer, a miracle worker, and someone they hoped would fix all their earthly problems right then and there. Their “Hosanna”—which means “Save us!”—was full of hope. During Holy Week, that question still echoes. Who is this Jesus we follow? On Palm Sunday, the people celebrated the kind of Messiah they wanted: one who would save them from Roman rule. But when Jesus didn’t fit their expectations, they turned against him. Their “hosannas” were loud, but their understanding was shallow. Later, we find Jesus standing before the governor, Pilate. The r...

Thoughts Upon Methodism, Rev. John Wesley 1.  I am not afraid that the people called Methodists should ever cease to exist either in Europe or America.  But I am afraid, lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without the power.  And this undoubtedly will be the case, unless they hold fast both the doctrine, spirit, and discipline with which they first set out. 2.  What was their fundamental doctrine?  That the Bible is the whole and sole rule both of Christian faith and practice.  Hence they learned,      (1)  That religion is an inward principle; that it is no other than the mind that was in Christ; or, in other words, the renewal of the soul after the image of God, in righteousness and true holiness.      (2)  That this can never be wrought in us, but by the power of the Holy Ghost.      (3)  That we receive this, and every other blessing, me...

The people of Israel were standing at a new threshold. Moses had died. Joshua was about to lead people into a future filled with promise — and danger. As a pastor, I know the fears that creep into our churches. Fear of decline. Fear of conflict. Fear of not having enough—enough money, enough volunteers, enough energy. We stand at our own Jordan Rivers, looking at a future we can’t control, and we feel like Joshua must have felt: like a novice, standing on holy ground, unsure of our next step. Into that moment God speaks with steady, simple words: be strong and courageous. He says “be strong and courageous” three times to Joshua. God reminds him: “I will be with you. I will not fail you or abandon you.” Courage, in this light, is not the absence of fear. Courage is the decision to trust God’s presence and obey his word more than we trust our fear. Those words are not just for ancient Israelites. They are for you and me when life moves us to new places: a new job, a move, the grief...

Psalm 90 is a prayer that holds together two truths we often keep apart: God is eternal, and our lives are short. “For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past” (v. 4), yet our days “are soon gone, and we fly away” (v. 10). In Lent, this psalm invites us to face our limits honestly—not to frighten us, but to lead us into wisdom. It names the reality of sin and the weight of time. And yet, it also offers hope—a plea for wisdom, mercy, and the beauty of God’s favor resting on our lives. The psalm begins with an affirmation: “Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations” (v. 1). Before anything else existed, God was. That means we are never alone. Even when life feels uncertain or fleeting, God remains our home. Moses, the identified author of this psalm, doesn’t shy away from hard truths. He speaks of human frailty: “You turn us back to dust… our years come to an end like a sigh” (vv. 3, 9). He names the consequences of sin and the reality o...