Thursday, July 23, 2020


7th Week after Pentecost:


Put away violence and oppression.
(Ezekiel 45:9)
  
Following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police, Anna joined in a Black Lives Matter march. Her mother told her that her grandparents, that’s us, had joined in a civil rights march at the death of Martin Luther King. I’d forgotten; or, almost forgotten. It happened the Sunday after his assassination when we attended Grace Cathedral. After the worship service, we marched with the congregation through the streets of San Francisco to demonstrate our solidarity with MLK and the civil rights movement he lead.

Anna and our current turmoil has put me into a secular (if there is such a thing) reading spree: Kissinger by Barry Gewen in an attempt to review that tragic war that so divided us; White Fragility to understand what is meant by systemic racism; and, a surprise wonder of  a book, Our Declaration, by Danielle Allen.

Danielle Allen, an African American woman, reminded me of why we marched—not out of anger, but out of deep respect for our founding document: “That all are created equal.”  And, Martin Luther King, being a pastor, insisted we march non-violently: “When Jesus was abused, he did not return abuse, nor did he threaten” (1Pt 2:23). The way of the Cross brought about the greatest revolution the world has ever known. Who would of thought?


Sunday, July 19, 2020


7th Sunday after Pentecost:


Creation groans.
(Romans 8:22)

No church gathering this morning. The gathered must go back to being scattered. It’s back to virtual church.  The scattered will watch on YouTube as the pastor preaches to an empty sanctuary. It’s that pesky virus that just won’t go away. “Creation groans.”

Groaning creation longs to be “set free from its bondage to decay” (Ro 8:21). Creation groans in hope. Because of the Gospel, there is comfort in our groaning. Someday, the scattered will be gathered. Creation will be redeemed.


Sunday, July 12, 2020


6th Sunday after Pentecost:


Greet one another with a holy kiss.
(First Corinthians 16:20)

Last Sunday we gathered as church for the first time since March 15—the third Sunday of Lent. I’m not sure it really counts. There’s still social distancing; plus masks. How can we “greet one another with a holy kiss”? 

Linda and I decided we best remain scattered and sheltered for a while. Our two experiences of gathering (Mission Beach with family about a month ago, and Auburn wedding a couple weeks ago) resulted in illegal displays of affection. Masks and social distancing lasted about three seconds. I’m afraid the same would happened if we gathered this morning with the gathered. You wouldn’t want to do something illegal in church. So, we will watch on YouTube.

It’s a reminder that worship has to do with displays of affection for God and for his gathered people.



Sunday, July 5, 2020


5th Sunday after Pentecost:


Grace and peace…
(Romans 1:7)

“No justice no peace,” protesters chant. It seems the closer we get to “justice for all,” the further away we find ourselves. It’s discouraging. “Justice for all” is a noble ideal that always lies somewhere beyond our reach. How can our government; or, any government, make all the wrongs right? Will we ever arrive at that place of justice where peace prevails and violence subsides?

The Gospel announces God’s decision to justify us (make our wrongs right) and grant us peace. That’s why it’s called “the Gospel of peace” (Eph 6:15). That’s why the Epistles always address us with “Grace and peace” (Ro 1:7). It takes unfathomable grace to get us to peace: “Making peace through his blood of the cross(Col 1:20). No Cross, no peace.

So, we pray, as our Lord teaches us, that what is true in heaven, might be true here on earth. Jesus also teaches us to bring something to our earthy government: “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's” (Mk 12:17 = Ro 13). One of the things we can render to our current national struggle is a spirit of graciousness—our graciousness, the church’s graciousness. May those of us who live under the shadow of the Cross, graciously listen to those who call for justice and peace.