Discipling Life

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,...

Have you ever been asked to do something that made absolutely no sense to you? How did you respond? This dynamic is perhaps best illustrated in the simple, often frustrating exchange between a parent and a child. A parent asks a child to do something, and the child inevitably asks, “Why?” The parental response is frequently a firm, “Because I said so.” Let’s try this again: Have you ever been asked to do something that made absolutely no sense to you — but you did it anyway because you trusted the person who asked?  Trust is the necessary bridge that spans the distance where our understanding ends. This is faith. As we navigate the Lenten journey, we rely on a trust-based faith. While our logic demands a destination before a departure, spiritual reality often requires the departure before the destination is even revealed. This is seen in the call of a man named Abram. To understand the weight of Abram’s call, we must first look at what he was leaving behind. Archaeology tells us ...

Think about the last time someone showed up for you at just the right moment. Maybe it was a neighbor who knocked on your door with a meal when life had fallen apart. Maybe it was a stranger who offered a kind word when you were on the verge of tears in the grocery store. Maybe it was a friend who simply sat with you in silence and didn’t try to fix anything. In those moments, something holy moved through an ordinary person. Grace wore a human face. And whether that person knew it or not, they were doing something ancient and sacred — they were answering a call. That’s exactly what we see in Abraham. In Genesis 12, God speaks to a man who has no roadmap, no guarantee, and no idea where he’s going. “Go,” God says, “from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1, NRSVue). For us, it is one of the most extraordinary moments in all of Scripture — not because Abraham was extraordinary, but because God chose to work through someon...

In our daily lives, we often come across moments that draw us into deeper reflections about who we are and what we are called to be. Perhaps it’s during a quiet morning, sipping coffee, when you ponder the nature of your relationships. Or maybe it’s in a moment of uncertainty, where you feel that gentle nudge toward something greater than yourself. These moments invite us into a deeper understanding of our identity as covenant people, rooted in grace and empowered for transformation. The Scripture readings for this Sunday are rich and profound, particularly Genesis 12:1-4a, where God calls Abram to leave his homeland, promising to make him a great nation. God’s invitation is rooted in a covenant—a sacred promise that signifies relationship and belonging. Abram’s response is remarkable; he follows God without knowing the full depth of what lies ahead. Here, we see the essence of grace: prevenient grace, awakening a response in us long before we realize it. Psalm 121 further reassures ...