Sunday, May 01, 2011

Channeling God's Love

Sermon for the Second Sunday of Easter

Preached by Ken Lyon, 5/1/2011, at Grace Church, Cincinnati.

The Gospel: John 20:19-31

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you." When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained."

But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, "We have seen the Lord." But he said to them, "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe."

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you." Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe." Thomas answered him, "My Lord and my God!" Jesus said to him, "Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe."

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

The Sermon

My wife and I took our kids, then ages five and seven, on a sightseeing vacation to Mexico City in 1975. We decided to take the train, the Aztec Eagle, from the US/Mexico border to Mexico City, stay there a couple of weeks, and then take the train back.

But we also wanted to see some of the countryside. We looked at the train schedule, and instead of going straight to Mexico City, we got tickets to a stop about 100 miles before Mexico City near a town called Queretaro. We planned to stay there a few days and then take a bus in to the big city.

The train trip was wonderful. We were the only English-speakers, and we knew only about ten words of Spanish, but no matter; our blonde-blue-eyed kids were great hits with the other passengers. During the day, we saw all kinds of interesting sights as we crossed the high desert. At night, out the window of our comfortable berth, we saw millions of stars in the clear air, all the way down to the horizon.

On the second day, when we heard the conductor calling our stop, we grabbed our bags. We were ushered off the train onto the gravel beside the track, and the train quickly pulled away.

Wait a minute! Did I say gravel!?!? Where was the platform? Where was the train terminal? Where was the city? Where were the busses, the taxis, the restaurants, the people? We’ve been dropped in the middle of nowhere--Mexican nowhere--thousands of miles from home.

My wife and kids are looking at me: what now, dad? Indeed! What have we gotten ourselves into? This is nothing at all like what I had expected! What will happen to us now? Where will we stay? How will we ever get out of this fix? Nothing is making any sense! I’m petrified. On top of that, I’m feeling guilty about getting my family into this fix.

By virtue of the fact that you see me standing before you now, you know that we survived, and in fact, it’s given us a great story about an adventure that I’m glad we had. But I still remember that moment--the sense of utter dislocation—crazy discombobulation—as my sunny, optimistic, naive expectations were turned upside down. Have you ever felt that way? Hold that thought, we’ll come back to it.

As for what happened to us: Down the tracks there was a little building that turned out to be the train station. There were a couple of men inside. “How do we get to Queretaro?” I asked. A barrage of Spanish came back. “Where’s the bus to Queretaro?” More Spanish. I rack my brain for some Spanish words. “Donde esta el bus a Queretaro?” Somehow, patiently, the man got me to understand that we should get on that old school bus parked out in the lot; that it would not take us to Queretaro, but it would take us to a place where we could get a bus to Queretaro. We got on the bus, and with the help of the bus driver, who refused my offer of money, he found us that bus to Queretaro. There, we found a hotel, slept well that night, and had a wonderful, memorable, trip.

I said you should remember that feeling of utter dislocation, terror and immobilization that comes when our lives are turned upside down, because that’s where the disciples were on the Sunday night after Jesus’ execution.

The disciples—minus two—are together.

Judas isn’t there. Depending on who you believe, he either hanged himself out of shame for having turned Jesus over to the authorities, or he met the end he deserved when he burst open in the middle and all his bowels gushed out.

Thomas, the hero of today’s Gospel, isn’t there either.

These ten have locked themselves up in a room out of fear that what happened to Jesus might happen to them. Their leader, the man they counted on, the man who had given purpose to their lives for the past three years—was suddenly taken away and executed! Their world has been turned upside down. Now, two disciples report that Jesus’ body has disappeared. And Mary claims she has seen and talked with him. None of this makes any sense! Worse yet, they are feeling guilt—shame—because they know that they deserted their friend when he needed them most.

So they’re feeling disoriented and guilty, but—being men—they’re not talking about how they feel. Instead, I suspect that they are engaged in a blame game, laying their feelings off on Judas. “It’s all Judas’ fault! If he hadn’t turned Jesus in, none of this would have happened!” (And they continued to blame Judas. From that time on, it’s as though Judas’ name becomes “Judas Who Betrayed Jesus”—that’s what he’s called every time he’s mentioned anywhere in the New Testament.)

So the room is filled with “ain’t it awful” talk.” But suddenly they’re aware that someone else is there with them! They’re not sure who it is at first, but when he shows them his wounds, they know it’s Jesus. His presence makes them even more aware of their shame at having deserted him. What will he say to them? What will he do to them? They think of what happened to Judas, and they know they deserve the worst.

But Jesus simply says. “Shalom. Peace be with you!” It’s like nothing has changed between them. They’re off the hook, and they’re overjoyed.

Then Jesus tells them that they are to be his successors. He breathes life into them as God breathed life into humankind at the creation. And he makes them God’s agents of forgiveness in the world—forgiving as they have just been forgiven.

And then, he disappears as mysteriously as he appeared.

These are astounding events. Yes, they’ve seen Jesus—sort of—but what’s it all mean? They’re more confused than ever. They plan to meet again the next Sunday and they go back home.

Now, what about Thomas? At an earlier time when Jesus was about to walk into a dangerous situation, it was Thomas who said to the rest of the disciples: “Let’s go with him, so we can die with him.” Unlike the others, Thomas understood where following Jesus would lead. Now, he’s feeling worse than the rest, because he had known in advance what was required of him and still he’d failed.

Thomas doesn’t feel like being with anyone right now, he just wants to be alone in his grief and shame.

But now the disciples seek him out and use the same words with him that Mary Magdalene used with them: “We have seen the Lord.” Thomas doesn’t believe them any more than they believed Mary. He thinks, “You might have seen something or somebody, but it certainly can’t have been Jesus. No way Jesus wants any part of us after how we’ve failed him.” So Thomas demands proof that the person that appeared to them really was Jesus.

So the next Sunday, Thomas joins the disciples in that locked room, and Jesus again comes into their midst, again saying, “Shalom—peace be with you.” And he shows Thomas his wounds, daring him to touch them. Thomas, seeing that it really is Jesus who has passed the peace to him, understands that Jesus’ love for him hasn’t changed one bit. Through Jesus, he experiences the almost incomprehensible forgiveness and acceptance that is only God’s to give.

In that moment, he blurts out the most powerful statement of Jesus’ identity in all of the Gospels—“My Lord and my God.”

In that moment, Thomas sees what no other person in any of the Gospels has seen. “My Lord and my God”: This statement is the climax of John’s Gospel, the statement that John’s entire Gospel leads to.

Suddenly, things makes sense to Thomas. He has one of those great “aha” moments. When Thomas calls Jesus “God,” it’s because he sees that Jesus is channeling God’s unconditional love--love for him, and for the others; for all people.

He understands: This is what Jesus’ life was all about: About channeling God’s love that has always been there from the moment he created the world and everything and everybody in it--a fact that, through the ages, people so often lose sight of.

And, in that moment, Thomas’ own confused life makes sense. If Jesus is channeling God’s love to him, then his life’s work is to channel that love to others. The meaning of his own life becomes clear—and he’s no longer paralyzed.

It’s at this point that the real Easter miracle occurs: a group of formerly confused, demoralized, leaderless, guilt-ridden disciples goes out in a dangerous world to spread the Good News about God’s love. In only 300 years, Christian believers are the majority in the whole Roman Empire.

And what about us? When we, as individuals, experience God’s unconditional love for us, our lives change. Our life’s work becomes clear to us. We worry less about our mistakes--whether they are mistakes we’ve made, or the mistakes we’re afraid might make--and our energies are released to channel God’s love to the world around us. As we have experienced God’s unconditional love for us through Jesus, we channel that love to others.

In each Sunday’s liturgy, when we come to the rail for communion or for healing, we re-enact this transmission of God’s love. Let these acts be for us a reminder that we are to channel this love to the world, and let us pray with St Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make us instruments of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.

Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Father Forgive Them …

Sermon by Ken Lyon given April 22, 2011 at the College Hill Community Good Friday Service.

A reading from Luke 23:33-35

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!”

“Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they’re doing.”

Jesus says this in his last hours, as he’s dying on a cross at the hands of the Romans. He’s been turned over to them by his own people and deserted by his friends. And he knows that this is a punishment that he didn’t deserve. And yet he says, “Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they’re doing.”

This is an amazing statement. It’s a statement that challenges us. It’s a statement that has fundamental implications for our life with God and for our life with other people.

When Jesus says, “forgive them,” who does he have in mind?

As he looks around, he sees the Roman authorities and soldiers who had put him on the cross.

He sees some of the Jewish authorities, who turned him over to the Romans.

He sees the bystanders--executions always draw a crowd.

He’s probably thinking about his disciples--his followers—his best friends--who are nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps he has in mind all people--humanity in general. He understands that what the Romans and the Jews and the bystanders and the disciples are doing are things that most everybody does at one time or another.

It’s enough to make one weep for humankind.

And then Jesus says, “they don’t know what they’re doing.” Hmmmm. If they don’t know what they’re doing, what do they think they’re doing?

The Romans know what they’re doing. They’re executing an enemy of the state before he causes real trouble.

The Jewish authorities know what they’re doing. They’ve turned one of their own over to the authorities to prevent his movement from growing to the point where it risks triggering Roman retaliation that will kill many people.

The curious bystanders—well, they probably figure that those people being executed probably deserved what was coming to him.

And the disciples who ran? Who knows what they thought? Maybe they figured that Jesus could handle this situation on his own. Maybe they figured that when he couldn’t face down the Romans, he wasn’t the man they thought he was, that he had betrayed them and he didn’t deserve their support. People have amazing powers to rationalize their actions.

If we had been there that day, what would we have been thinking? Would we have been any better—would any of us known what we were doing?

And yet, for all of them, and for us, Jesus prays, “Father, forgive them; they don’t know what they’re doing.”

And look: none of these forgiven people ever admitted they’d done anything wrong or asked for forgiveness! With the possible exception of the disciples, they most likely lived the rest of their life never thinking they’d done anything wrong that day--that there was nothing to ask forgiveness for. But they are forgiven! Right here, right now! No strings attached!

And the disciples? Nowhere is it recorded that ask for forgiveness. The evangelist John tells us that on the evening of Easter Sunday and again on the Sunday after Easter, the resurrected Jesus appears to the disciples where they are hiding in a locked room and he opens the conversation with “Shalom,” “Peace.” There are no pleas and no recriminations. Instead he commissions these undeserving people to be his representatives to the world!

This unasked-for, unmerited, grace on God’s part is consistent with God’s acts recounted elsewhere in our Bible. There are times when the people God chooses to save or that he chooses to be his agents neither asked for it nor deserved it.

He rescues the Hebrew people out of Egypt before they even know who he is, and he supports them all the way to the Promised Land even though they misbehave all the way. I can hear them now: “I’m hungry.” “Are we there yet?” But God sticks with them.

And then there’s David: God chooses David to be his favorite king, even though his morality makes modern politicians’ indiscretions pale by comparison.

How are we to get our minds around a God that loves and forgives and saves so unfairly? Maybe we’re having trouble with this because we don’t see the big picture—God’s picture.

Let’s see if we can look at this from God’s perspective--as well as any human can understand God’s perspective.

In the first creation story in the book of Genesis, God creates the world in stages, and at each stage but the last, he pronounces His creation, “Good.” But, at the last stage, when he creates humankind, he makes an exception to the pattern. He doesn’t pronounce us “good,” He pronounces us, “very good.”

From God’s perspective as creator of all that is--as the metaphorical parent of all people--God knows his children are, after all, children, compared to Him. God did not create us perfect—only God is perfect. God created us to be an interesting mixed bag of gifts and contradictions. And he called us “very good.”

So now I have an inkling why--from God’s perspective--why he loves and forgives you and me. He loves and forgives us just as human parents—on their good days at least-- love and forgive their children unconditionally.

In one of our prayers, we Episcopalians ask for forgiveness for all our sins, things we’ve done and things we’ve left undone, and, more to the point for today, for sins unknown as well as known. And we know that God grants that prayer, even without our asking, and that really is good news.

This is a God I can love!

But wait! If this is good news, it’s good news with a kicker. If God forgives me, God also forgives all those other people! Including those people who are hurting me or my friends or my country. Including people who are hurting on purpose and think that they have good reasons to do so!

How can I possibly forgive like Jesus did? Like God does?

And yet, that’s just what we’re called to do. As we pray in our Lord’s Prayer, we expect God to “forgive us our trespasses we forgive those who trespass against us.” To say it another way, as God has forgiven us, we are to forgive others.

We do have some shining examples of people who actually forgive in seemingly impossible situations—situations more difficult than most of us will ever face.

In a trip to England a few years ago, my wife and I visited the cathedral in Coventry. There, we heard an amazing story:

One night in November, 1940, the city of Coventry was bombed by the German air force. Five hundred and forty people died, nearly two thousand houses were destroyed, the city center was left in ruins, and the cathedral that had stood for over 600 years was destroyed by fire--only its walls and tower were left standing.

Six weeks after the bombing, the BBC broadcast a Christmas Day worship service from the Cathedral’s ruins.

It would have been so easy to hate the German people for what that had done and to call for vengeance--for German cities to be destroyed in the same way as Coventry.

But Provost Richard Howard, the senior priest at the Cathedral, had a different message. He had already written the words “Father forgive” on the smoke blackened wall of the sanctuary of the ruined cathedral. And in that Christmas Day broadcast to the nation he said,

Six weeks ago the enemy came, and hurled down fire and destruction upon our city from the sky, all through the long night. So many lives were lost, so many homes destroyed, and our Cathedral utterly burnt and brought to the ground.

I am looking now at the heaped-up ruins and the long line of outer walls, scarred and windowless. Yet even now, the ruined Cathedral keeps much of its former majesty and beauty, unconquered by destruction.

So is the Spirit of Christ unconquerable. He suffers alongside of us, just as this Cathedral suffered the same fate as the city. Christ lost everything he had, and won the world.

What we want to tell the world is this: that with Christ born again in our hearts to-day, we are trying--hard as it may be--to banish all thoughts of revenge. We are bracing ourselves to finish his tremendous job of saving the world from tyranny and cruelty. We are going to try to make a kinder, simpler–a more Christ-Child-like sort of world-- in the days beyond this strife.

As you might imagine, Provost Howard’s words of forgiveness and reconciliation took some courage to speak at that moment, and they were not well-received by many. But members of that Cathedral and others did reach out to Germany after the war, and Coventry’s Community of the Cross of Nails continues to work for reconciliation worldwide.

On 9/11, when those airplanes crashed into the World Trade Center, I listened for a voice like that of Provost Howard calling for forgiveness and reconciliation for the hijackers and those who sent them, but I don’t remember hearing it. I wish I had heard such a voice. I wish I had been such a voice.

Yes, there are times when it’s hard to dare to take the Gospel—the Good News of God’s unconditional love and acceptance for all his creation—seriously. And yet it’s just those times when we need to.

Closer to home, we do sometimes hear of people in our own community who forgive just when it seems impossible:

During the sentencing of someone convicted of murder, or before their execution, we often hear those close to the murdered person testify about the pain the murderer has caused, about how they deserve execution, about how an execution will provide closure.

But sometimes we hear the bereaved testify that they’ve found a way to forgive the murderer, and they ask for mercy.

From the human perspective, this can feel like they’re letting someone get away with murder, but again, let’s try to look at this from God’s perspective, again using the parent metaphor.

I love both my kids. I do my human best to love and forgive them no matter what. When they were kids, one thing that really drove me up a wall was when they picked on each other. On a long road trip, I can remember seemingly endless arguments over exactly how much space each had in the back seat of the car. “Dad, he’s touchin’ me!” From my elevated parental perspective, I saw that they were squabbling over things that were trivial in the grand scheme of things. From my perspective, they really didn’t realize what they were doing.

Is that how God sees his world? Like a bunch of squabbling kids who need to get a clue? People squabbling over trivia at the risk of their friendship? Political parties squabbling over spoils and risking the nation? Does God see whole nations squabbling, as it were, over their space in the back seat of the car?

We have a lot to learn about forgiveness and understanding. Jesus’ words from the cross continue to challenge us. Jesus continues to say, “Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they’re doing.” We need to learn to pray, “Father, forgive us, we don’t know what we’re doing.”

At Coventry Cathedral, a litany of reconciliation is now prayed regularly in the under that sign that Provost Howard put up, “Father forgive.” My wife and I prayed it there one Friday. I’d like to pray it with you now.

The Lord be with you.

And also with you.

Let us pray.

All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.

For the hatred which divides nation from nation, race from race, class from class, Father Forgive.

For the covetous desires of people and nations to possess what is not their own, Father Forgive.

For the greed which exploits the work of human hands and lays waste the earth, Father Forgive.

For our envy of the welfare and happiness of others, Father Forgive.

For our indifference to the plight of the imprisoned, the homeless, the refuge, Father Forgive.

For the lust which dishonors the bodies of men, women and children, Father Forgive.

For the pride which leads us to trust in ourselves and not in God, Father Forgive.

Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Amen.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Sermon by Hawley Todd for February 13, 2011

Outline of sermon preached by Hawley Todd on February 13, 2011 the 6th Sunday after Epiphany, year A.

Open with Prayer

Welcome to Grace Church for our service, a Celebration of Healing and Wholeness.

I was very tempted to speak on Absalom Jones but I know you will hear a much better sermon from Bishop Rivera if you go to the special service at the Cathedral this afternoon. So I invite you to come to the Cathedral this afternoon for a Festival Choral Eucharist to celebrate the life and ministry of the Rev. Absalom Jones.

Our scriptures appointed for today caused me a great deal of discomfort this week. They did not at first seem to be the easiest ones to use for a healing service or for our annual meeting!

What does the reading from Sirach say?

Sirach 15:15-20

15 If you choose, you can keep the commandments,
   and to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice.
16 He has placed before you fire and water;
   stretch out your hand for whichever you choose.
17 Before each person are life and death,
   and whichever one chooses will be given.

18 For great is the wisdom of the Lord;
   he is mighty in power and sees everything;
19 his eyes are on those who fear him,
   and he knows every human action.
20 He has not commanded anyone to be wicked,
   and he has not given anyone permission to sin.

This passage is all about choosing.

The spiritual life at its core is learning to make choices that are pleasing to God

God created us to be whole and in balance and harmony with ourselves and one another.

Healing is restoring ourselves, each other, and all of creation to the way God intended us all to be.

While there often are many things outside our control, there are always aspects of our lives that are within our control.

It is in those areas that God wants us to choose between life and death,

Between growing closer to God or growing further away,

Between becoming the person God created us to be or becoming Judas.

"And he has not given anyone permission to sin.”

That is a leadin to our second reading from the 5th chapter of Matthew.

Matthew 5:21-37
Jesus said, "You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, `You shall not murder'; and `whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.' But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, `You fool,' you will be liable to the hell of fire. So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison. Truly I tell you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.

"You have heard that it was said, `You shall not commit adultery.' But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell.

"It was also said, `Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.' But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.

"Again, you have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, `You shall not swear falsely, but carry out the vows you have made to the Lord.' But I say to you, Do not swear at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God, or by the earth, for it is his footstool, or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot make one hair white or black. Let your word be `Yes, Yes' or `No, No'; anything more than this comes from the evil one.

This passage has always bothered me.

Why is Jesus talking about cutting one’s hand off or plucking one’s eye out???

On the surface, this passage is just plain disturbing. I have read of people who toke it literally and disfigured themselves.

He really does not want us to willfully sin.

He says that the inner act of lusting is as bad as the outer.

Earlier he said:

21“You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not murder’; and ‘whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.’ 22But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.

He has moved the outer acts of murder and adultery to our inner life and our words.

And I think this is the CRITICAL POINT

Unlike the psychology and beliefs that I was taught in college that it is okay to think or feel whatever we want as long as we don’t externalize them, Jesus is saying the condition of our hearts and minds are CRITICAL.

If anything needs to be cut off or plucked out, it is not our outer physical bodies.

Rather it is the habits of thought and emotion that we entertain quietly in the hidden parts of our beings.

And what does this have to do with a healing service?

Remember that as we have been learning about healing and becoming the precious children God created us to be, I have stressed over and over that we a unified whole made up of a physical body, emotions, mind, and a spirit.

A sickness in any one area impacts all the areas.

My observation in working with people is that our bodies are often the last part of us to get sick.

Physical illness is often BUT NOT ALWAYS a manifestation of something amiss in our emotions, our thought patterns, and our spirit.

In this passage, Jesus is telling us to pay attention to our own inner lives.

First of all notice what is going on!

Then CHOOSE.

Ephesians tells us to be angry but do not sin,

Do not let the sun go down on your anger.

This is where choice comes in.

We get hurt.

We get angry.

But we decide – we choose what to do with the hurt and anger.

The passage from Matthew though deals with another aspect of “sin” – missing the mark – that I want to touch on today.

23So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, 24leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.

The gift – the worship – that God wants is for us to lead an ethical life.

God wants us to truly love one another.

And when we fail to do that – God wants us to make it right.

Say you are sorry.

Make amends – that is true worship.

Admit your errors and don’t make excuses or offer reasons.

REPENT – turn around.

First to you sister and brother, and only then to God.

How healing would that be for all of us?????

When others hurt us, that they would admit their wrongs and come and be reconciled.

Yes they will know we are Christians by our love!!!!!

Grace Church strives to be open and welcoming to all people.

We strive to exclude no one.

Read and live into our values and our goals.

Yet tolerating another’s differences is not the same thing as honoring and welcoming them as a brother or sister.

Pay attention to what is going on inside your heart and mind.

Ask Jesus to heal and transform whatever is within us that needs to be changed so that we can choose life and truly welcome each other and anyone who comes through our doors!

Let us pray!!!