Discipling Life

There are days when the world feels heavy. News headlines, personal struggles, and uncertain futures can stir up anxiety in our hearts. There are moments in life when the heart feels crowded with questions. What will happen next? How will this turn out? Where am I going, and how will I get there? Sometimes those questions are small and everyday. Sometimes they come in hospital rooms, at kitchen tables, or in the quiet of the night when sleep will not come. Into that very human space of worry and uncertainty, Jesus speaks these words: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me” (v. 1). [ See all of John 14:1-6 here .] Jesus speaks these words to his disciples on the night before the cross. They sense that change is coming, and not the kind of change they want. He has just told them that he will be leaving them, and their hearts are shaken. Yet Jesus does not scold them for being afraid. Instead, he invites them to trust. Our faith in Christ does not re...

This week we have been looking at the scripture texts assigned by the lectionary for this Sunday — the Fifth Sunday of Lent. Ezekiel 37:1–14; Psalm 130; Romans 8:6–11; John 11:1–45 Each of these scriptures points us to the heart of God’s promise: death does not have the final word . Lent leads us through times of emptiness, confession, and longing, but always with the whisper of resurrection waiting ahead. In Ezekiel’s vision, God brings the prophet to a valley full of dry bones. It is a place that once held life but now lies silent and bare. God asks, “Can these bones live?” Only God knows the answer. Then the breath of God moves through the valley, and the bones rattle together, rise, and live again. The Spirit brings life where there was only death. The breath of God brings renewal. What seemed hopeless is restored. Psalm 130 echoes that same cry—from the depths of despair, the psalmist waits for God’s mercy. “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope.” Even...

During Lent we often focus on the journey toward the cross. It is a time of reflection, repentance, and walking through the darkness of sorrow. However, the story of Jesus and his friend Lazarus reminds us that this journey does not end in death; it leads directly to the bright hope of resurrection . When Jesus arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had already been dead for four days. Martha met Jesus with a cry of honest grief that many of us recognize: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” It is a prayer born from heartbreak—the wish that God had come sooner or that the pain could have been avoided. Jesus did not offer Martha empty words of comfort or some abstract theological lesson. Instead, he met her exactly where she was and pointed her toward a truth greater than her circumstances. He invited her to trust not just in what he could do, but in who he is . Jesus made a astonishing declaration: “I am the resurrection and the life.” This is a profound shift in ...

In the middle of one of the most powerful miracles in the Gospel of John , we find two simple words: “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). It is often known as the shortest verse in the Bible, yet it carries a profound truth about the nature of God. Before Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead or calls him out of the tomb, he stands beside his grieving friends and lets his own tears fall. When Jesus arrived in Bethany, his friend Lazarus had already been dead for four days. Martha and Mary were heartbroken, and the crowd was grieving. Even though Jesus knew he was about to bring Lazarus back to life—knowing the ending would be one of joy—he still stopped to weep. He wept because he loved Lazarus, because he saw the pain of those he cared for, and because he recognized that death is real and grief is heavy. These two words tell us something essential: God is not distant or unmoved by our suffering . In Christ, God feels what we feel, knowing the ache of loss and the heaviness of sorrow. The hu...

Not sure about you, but I seem to automatically switch to more of a forensic mindset when I turn to Paul’s writings – especially the Letter to the Romans. I see Paul as a more literal minded writer. Jesus told parables. Paul makes arguments. But Paul also paints his arguments with metaphors. So, what I want to do today is to step back and take in the big picture that Paul paints for us in today’s text. Romans 8:6-11 (NRSVue): “To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For this reason the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law — indeed it cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God. But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised...

On the afternoon of May 24, 1738, John Wesley attended a vespers service at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London. During the service, he was deeply moved by the singing of an anthem drawn from Psalm 130 — the De Profundis (Latin for “Out of the Depths”)— which opens with the cry, “Out of the deep have I called unto thee, O Lord.” At the time, Wesley was in the midst of a profound spiritual crisis. He felt weighed down by a sense of sin and was tormented by his inability to earn salvation through his own efforts. The themes of Psalm 130 — a desperate cry from the depths of despair, followed by an assurance of God’s mercy and “plenteous redemption” — mirrored his inner struggle so closely that the anthem struck him with unusual force. Here was a Psalmist who had cried out from the same darkness Wesley felt, and who found hope not in human merit, but in the grace of God alone. That evening, Wesley attended a meeting on Aldersgate Street, where someone was reading aloud from Martin Luther’s...

Where are you in your daily walk with God? Some people still feel lost or disoriented after COVID. Things in their home church may seem so unfamiliar that it is almost a different church than the one they called home. All the divisiveness in our society and congregations have only added to the feeling of ennui many of us have experienced. That brings us to today’s text: Ezekiel 37:1-14 Many churches today know what Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones feels like. After COVID closures, some congregations returned to sanctuaries that felt emptier than before. Pews that once held familiar faces now hold silence. Programs that once brought energy now feel harder to sustain. It is easy to look around and quietly echo the words of Israel: “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely” (v. 11). Ezekiel is taken by God into a valley filled with bones—scattered, brittle, long forgotten. God asks him, “Mortal, can these bones live?” (v. 3). Ezekiel doesn’t pretend t...

This is a manuscript of the sermon I preached on March 15, 2026 (Fourth Sunday of Lent) at Ebenezer and Black Creek. The scripture lessons for this are: 1 Samuel 16:1–13, Psalm 23, Ephesians 5:8–14, and John 9:1–41 . As we move deeper into the season of Lent, the focus shifts from the internal discipline of the wilderness toward a profound revelation of the character of Christ. This sermon weaves together the anointing of David, the guidance of the Good Shepherd, Paul’s call to live as children of light, and the healing of the man born blind. We see how God’s vision redefines our own reality and our own way of seeing God, ourselves, and others. The intent is to move the listener from a surface-level perception of the world toward an “anointed” vision that recognizes the image of God in all people, particularly those whom society—and our own prejudices—would prefer to overlook. Introduction: The 40-Day Journey Toward Clarity I was talking to someone recently during an Emmaus weekend, ...

I covered the texts for the Fourth Sunday of Lent this week and I will post today's sermon later today. For this morning I thought I would take a look at a text not in this week's readings: Ephesians 2:1-10. It is a text that has always spoken to me. It was the text assigned to me during my License to Preach course in 1979. 1 You were dead through the trespasses and sins 2 in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work among those who are disobedient. 3 All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, doing the will of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else, 4 but God, who is rich in mercy , out of the great love with which he loved us 5 even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— 6 and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus,...

While I prepare these devotions each week, I am also praying over the texts for sermon preparation. This week I have been praying over and studying these texts: 1 Samuel 16:1‑13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5:8‑14; John 9:1‑41 During Lent, we often pray for clearer vision—eyes to see God, ourselves, and our neighbors with honesty and grace. The scriptures for this week invite us into that kind of seeing. They remind us that God’s light exposes what is hidden, heals what is broken, and calls us into a new way of living. Seeing as God Sees (1 Samuel 16:1‑13) When Samuel is sent to anoint the next king, he looks at Jesse’s oldest son and thinks, “Surely the Lord’s anointed is now before the Lord” (1 Samuel 16:6, NRSVue). But God gently corrects him: “the Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart” (v. 7). David is chosen not because he looks the part, but because God sees something deeper. God’s anointing rests on those who are...

The narratives in John’s Gospel are lengthy, so I am breaking them up into two parts when they come up in the lectionary. Today we continue our look at John 9 . Yesterday we looked at the encounters and conversations that we encounter in John 9. Today we look at some of the themes. Lent calls us to confront darkness—within and around us. John 9 masterfully weaves themes of blindness and sight, light and darkness, sin and restoration, inviting us to see ourselves in the story. 1. Blindness vs. Sight (John 9:39–41) The chapter’s core question isn’t “Who sinned?” (v. 2) but “Who truly sees?” The blind man moves from physical darkness to spiritual sight: he worships Jesus (v. 38). The Pharisees, though physically sighted, are spiritually blind, trapped by rigid tradition. True sight begins when we admit, “I don’t see everything.” 2. Light vs. Darkness (John 9:4–5) Jesus declares, “We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As lo...

John 9 is one long story told through a series of conversations. Each one reveals something about Jesus, something about the people around him, and something about what it means to grow in faith. As we walk through these interactions, we begin to see how grace works—quietly, patiently, and sometimes in ways that surprise us. Let us look deeper into this story where physical blindness reveals deeper truths about faith, fear, and authority. Let’s walk through four key encounters: 1. Jesus and the Blind Man (John 9:6–7) Jesus heals a man born blind by making mud with saliva, anointing his eyes, and sending him to wash in the Pool of Siloam. The man obeys without hesitation—and receives sight. Notice Jesus’ compassion: he initiates healing before the man even asks. This isn’t about merit; it’s grace in action.  2. The Healed Man and the Pharisees (John 9:13–34) The Pharisees interrogate the healed man, dismissing Jesus as a “sinner” for healing on the Sabbath. The man’s testimo...

“For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light—for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true. Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to mention what such people do secretly; but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, ‘Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.’” Ephesians 5:8–14 (NRSV) Paul’s words remind us that discipleship is more than believing—it’s living differently because of what Christ has done for us. Once, says Paul, we were   darkness —not just walking in it, but part of it. But now, through Christ, we are light. Lent invites us to remember that transformation and to ask whether our lives still reflect that new reality. Lent invites us to be honest about the shadows in our lives—the habits, fears,...

Psalm 23 is a passage loved by so many. It is heard so often. It is often one of the first passages of scripture we commit to memory. There is a real danger of overfamiliarity with this text. Do we repeatedly read it (or hear it) with our own preconceived expectations of what it is going to say to us? Because we do know it so well, might we be approaching it with a spiritual blindness? We don’t have the space to look at the psalm line by line, but let’s focus on a theme that connects to this week’s other texts for the Fourth Sunday in Lent this week. How do we learn to hear the Holy Spirit speaking to us afresh as we read or hear a familiar text? Let’s try this: let’s consider some of the key phrases in Psalm 23. For example, in verse three what does it mean that the Lord “restores my soul” and “leads me in right paths”? Let’s consider them one at a time. First, the phrase: He restores my soul. God brings about a renewal or revitalization of the inner self, reflecting the ...

Today we begin by looking at this week’s Old Testament text ( 1 Samuel 16:1–13 ). It talks about how we look at others and how different that is from the way God looks at others. Do you sometimes make snap judgments about people by: the way they dress? the way they talk: their grammar, their accent, the way they pronounce words? whether they are overweight or underweight? Sometimes the way we judge people is so quick and so shallow that we hardly notice we are doing it. We size people up by what we see—how they look, how they speak, how confident they seem. But Scripture reminds us again and again that God sees differently. Consider this old description: “ A man small in size, bald‑headed, bow‑legged, in good bodily condition, with eyebrows meeting and nose somewhat hooked. ” Not exactly the picture of a great leader. It is a description of the Apostle Paul from the  Acts of Paul and Thecla.  Even the Bible says,  “ His letters are weighty ...