Discipling Life

In the early church (2nd to 4th centuries), re-robing was a central symbolic ritual in which newly baptized adults, having stripped off their clothing before baptism, were clothed in new white garments upon emerging from the water; this action symbolized leaving behind the “old man” of sin and putting on Christ and a new life, with the white garments representing purification, innocence, and being clothed in the righteousness of Christ. The rite commonly followed a pattern of renunciation and immersion in which candidates stripped before baptism to signify death to the old life, were immersed, and then were given new white clothing, and the re-robing itself carried special significance that was often connected to Galatians 3:27 and Ephesians 4:24, emphasizing that those baptized into Christ have “put on” Christ. In his letter to the Ephesians, the apostle Paul invites us into this very transformation. He tells us that we are to put away our former way of life and be renewed in the sp...

This Easter Sunday I decided to do something different. I wanted to focus on the epistle lesson for the day. The first four verses of the third chapter of Paul's letter to the Colossians. 1 Since you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on the things that are above, not on the things that are on earth, 3 for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. The Hidden Life Date: April 5, 2026 Speaker: Alan Swartz Scripture: Colossians 3:1-4 1. Introduction In the quiet of this Easter morning, we find ourselves standing at a   threshold. It is the intersection where the silence of an empty tomb meets the our profound expectation for a word that actually matters. We gather with a deep hunger, hoping that the story of the resurrection might do more than occupy our minds for an hour; w...

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb… Jesus said to her, 'Mary!' She turned and said to him in Hebrew, 'Rabbouni!' (which means Teacher). (John 20:1–18, NRSVue) Easter morning always begins in the dark. The sky is quiet, the world still wrapped in shadow. Mary Magdalene steps into that darkness carrying grief. The one who had changed her life is gone, and all she can do is come to the place where his body had been laid. It is love that brings her there. It is a love strong enough to face sorrow head-on. But what she finds is not what she expects. The stone is rolled away. The tomb is empty. Confusion and fear give way to astonishment as the risen Christ speaks her name, “Mary!” When she hears it everything changes. Light breaks into darkness, despair turns to hope, and death itself loses its power. This is the miracle at the heart of our faith: God r...

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...

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...

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...

As we continue our journey through Lent, we slow down and listen carefully to the words of Jesus. In John 3:1–17, we are invited into a quiet, nighttime conversation between Jesus and a man named Nicodemus. It is a deeply personal exchange, and it speaks to our own need for renewal. Nicodemus comes to Jesus in the dark. He is a Pharisee, a leader, a teacher of Israel. He knows the Scriptures. Yet he senses there is something more. He says, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God” (John 3:2, NRSV). He sees that God is at work in Jesus. Jesus responds with words that must have startled him: “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above” (John 3:3). Nicodemus is confused. How can someone be born again? Jesus explains, “No one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit” (John 3:5). He goes on to say, “What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit” (John 3:6). During Lent,...

What does Lent mean to you? Is it simply a time to make a sacrifice that provides a minor inconvenience? Give up chocolate or some other treat? For some, Lent may be a time to take back up one of those New Year’s resolutions that has already fallen by the wayside. But to be honest, I would often spend too much time thinking about what I was giving up rather than focusing on why I was giving it up. A couple of times in past years I gave up meat for Lent. Truth be told, that was more effective than giving up a treat like chocolate. Giving up meat required more of me. I did tend to be more reflective on my choice of deprivation. Now, that has been my experience. As it is often said: “Your mileage may vary.” During my Ash Wednesday sermon this week I suggested giving up certain types of behaviors. Harmful behavior. Behaviors that do not reflect the values of Christ. This week we have looked at the texts for the First Sunday of Lent: Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7, Psalm 32, Romans 5:12-19, a...

Today we consider the epistle lesson for this coming Sunday (Lent 1a). It is Romans 5:12-19 . Martin Luther referred to the Epistle to the Romans as the “purest gospel” and the “clearest gospel of them all” in his “ Preface to the Epistle to the Romans ” (1522). Of course, Luther is using the word gospel in the sense of the Good News and the message of salvation. Grace Greater than Our Sin Romans 5 can feel a bit heavy. Paul draws a direct line from Adam to the reality of sin and death in the world. He argues that “sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin” (v. 12). This is not meant as a history lesson; it is a diagnosis. Paul is describing the spiritual atmosphere we are born breathing. In the Wesleyan tradition, we often talk about this as “original sin.” We don’t mean that we are personally guilty of eating a piece of forbidden fruit thousands of years ago. Rather, we mean that we are born into a condition of separation and brokenness. We are born w...

We are coming up on the first Sunday in Lent. As we approach Sunday I am looking at the lectionary texts for the day. Yesterday I took a look at the Old Testament lesson (Gen. 2:15-17; 3:1-7). Today I look at the psalter (Psalm 32) which we use as a liturgical response to the first lesson. Blessed Are the Unburdened: A Lenten Reflection on Psalm 32 Lent has a way of slowing us down long enough to hear the truth we often spend most of the year avoiding. This Sunday our psalter is Psalm 32. This psalm meets us in that vulnerable space. It is an invitation to honesty—honesty about our sin, our self-deception, and the quiet relief that comes when we finally stop pretending. The psalm opens with a declaration that sounds almost like a sigh of relief: 1 Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven,     whose sin is covered. 2 Happy are those to whom the Lord imputes no iniquity     and in whose spirit there is no de...

In this message, I invite you to explore the Transfiguration of Our Lord, a profound event that reveals God’s radiant glory and challenges us to follow Christ into the heart of our daily lives. Drawing from my own memories of a confirmation retreat in State College, Pennsylvania, under the mentorship of Dr. Nelson Frank, I reflect on the Celtic concept of “thin places”—those sacred moments where the boundary between heaven and earth becomes porous and the divine presence feels especially near. By examining the experiences of Moses on Mount Sinai and the eyewitness testimony of Peter, we see how these mountaintop revelations are not meant for us to hide away in “shelters,” but to transform and equip us for the journeys through the valleys. Ultimately, I want to emphasize that our spiritual life hinges on the Father’s singular command to “Listen to him,” a call that requires us to pay attention to Jesus’ teachings and find direction in His Word even when the world feels chaotic. The Tran...