The composer writes the music, but the performers implement the notes and rhythm, to make the magic of music happen.  The clockmaker designs and builds the clock; but the owner has to set it to the right time and keep it wound up for it to do what it was made to do. The coach organizes the offense and defensive plays, but the athletes have to make it happen if there is to be a game. The teacher plans the lessons and gives the information; but the students have to apply the knowledge in order to grow in wisdom and understanding.  The artist creates and expresses through a particular medium, but without someone to observe and appreciate the skill, color, texture, composition, or design, can it be a masterpiece?  

One must have the other for either to make a difference or be of significant value.  One must have the other in order for either to have or live into its purpose; to do what it was made for or to be who they were created to be.  There is all the difference in the world between something being achieved and something being implemented.

A week ago, Jesus achieved his purpose - he did what he set out to do.  He defeated death and began the work of new creation.  We remembered and celebrated.  All that he taught, stood for, revealed, upheld, lived and died for must now be implemented.  There was and maybe still is however, a problem.  The disciples are hiding!  It may not feel like it, but it was just a week ago we remembered what it must have been like for those first followers of Jesus.  What they went through that last week of Jesus’ life on earth.  

They witnessed Jesus be arrested, convicted, flogged, killed, and put in a stone grave.  They knew the bitterness of the religious leaders and pharisees who had been a part of the death of Jesus and they were afraid that their turn would come next.  So they met in fear - in terror even, listening for every step on the stairs and every knock at the door, lest the representatives of the Sanhedrin should come to arrest them too.  

They spent three days scattered, avoiding crowds, and trying to make it back to the last safe place they knew - the room where they last gathered with Jesus for a meal and his incredible act of humility and servant leadership.  Jesus surprised them then and he was about to do it again.
It is as if Jesus is saying, my purpose began with me and my life, but can only continue with you so here, take the power, truth, wisdom, example, and presence of all that I am and take it with you.  Remember it all.  Remember all that you saw, heard, experienced, did, witnessed, took part in.  Remember the faces of those you saw come to me.  The sound of those who found their voice again because of what I taught.  The touch of their hugs, handshakes, kisses as they were given hope again.  Remember what I said, how I said it, and to whom I said it.  Remember what I stand for, what I called you to stand for.  Remember it all - when you are afraid.  When you fail.  When you succeed.  When you get hurt.  When they don’t listen.  When you lose your way.  When you rise and when you fall.  When you get frustrated and when you weep with gratitude and humility.  Remember.

This moment between Jesus and the disciples is their personal pentecost moment - powerful and empowering.  The risen Christ comes to them in their most vulnerable moment and speaks to them words of comfort, assurance, and challenge. 

Easter was but a week ago.  We spent 40 days getting there.  We spent a week walking the emotional roller-coaster with Jesus to the cross.  Why would we be so quick to move on?  To allow it to be swallowed up in the routine of daily life or to act like it is not a part of our reality.  We are on this side of Easter therefore we are an Easter people.  It is our reality. 

Jesus comes to all of us in our upper rooms - those metaphorical places we go when we are hurting, confused, angry, questioning, and second guessing, and he says to us, peace be with you; I am here.  I am your reality.  

Now is the time we must remember, reimagine, and rebuild.  Like the composer, the clockmaker, coach, artist, and teacher, everything Jesus was and is can only be if those who claim to believe in him, implement, enact, carry out, continue, and do what he started that first Easter morning - the creation of a New Kingdom - God’s Kingdom. 

You are invited to consider what that means for you and for the people of God.  What does it mean, really, to remember all that Jesus taught?  What is the point if we don’t live it out in authentic and meaningful ways.  What does it mean to reimagine church and community in light of following the risen Jesus?  What difference would it make in the life of this church, this community?  What would that reimagining look like?  How can we rebuild following the kind of year and half we have had?  What needs to be rebuilt?  What does building on the cornerstone of Jesus bring about for us and for others that is good, beautiful, and true for all God’s people? 

These are the questions (or some variation thereof) that the first followers faced.  These are the questions that awaited them on the other side of the upper room door following Jesus’ resurrection.  Like us after the year we have had; they were cautious and overwhelmed, AND like us, they were empowered by Jesus to open the door and  greet the anxious, hurting, fractured, imperfect, and waiting world with a message of love.  A message of hope.  

Are you ready Easter people?  Can we see Jesus in the room with us and remember?  Will we creatively reimagine and with wisdom, courageously rebuild?  I pray the breath of the risen Christ makes it so.  Amen. 

Prayer: Dear God, may we always remember the love poured out in the life of Jesus.  May we have the insight to reimagine just how powerful and healing that love is.  May we have the courage to rebuild your church on the cornerstone of that love. 

Pastor Jenothy Irvine

​In Mark’s portrayal of Jesus coming into Jerusalem, there is so much excitement, so much anticipation about Who Jesus is and what he is going to do. There is an invitation to become a part of the palm-parade and follow Jesus through the streets. But as we begin Holy Week, there is also an invitation to go deeper, to become one with God.

As followers of Christ, we move into Holy Week as persons summoned by God: to go to an upper room, to a garden, a trial, and, ultimately, a cross. Amidst all of noise, we come face to face with denial, betrayal, dishonesty, and death and Christ’s own voice: that is, if we truly listen, we begin to realize that it is not just about Peter or Judas; it is about us! About me! It is about our own discipleship and walk with Jesus. It is about asking the hard questions: what do I hear Jesus saying? What do I see Jesus doing? How am I denying Jesus, or betraying what he is about? Is there something in me that needs to die in order to live more faithfully, more fully?

We ask these questions to understand our own response to Jesus’ call to discipleship. We, like the first disciples, can become confused and distracted. We can miss the mark. 

As we journey toward the cross and out the other side, what do we need to hear? What are we listening for this week? What silences or cries or praises might we need to hear again?

There’s nothing like it. The smell of lodge-pole pine, western sage and prairie grass.  Together they are like an intoxicating mountain cologne.  Then there is the sound of the Aspen trees clapping their hand-like leaves in the breeze.  The sight of the fine black dust swirling at your feet. The air is so crisp it almost stings to breathe it in and feel cleansing at the same time.  The sky is so big and wide it's like you're walking across the canvas itself.  The silence is so loud it almost hurts your ears to hear it.  It is one of my most favorite places to be in the world.  It is there I remember how to listen with all my heart, soul, strength, and mind.  It is there I remember how easy it is to listen when there is nothing to distract me from what is being said.

Shhhh, ahhhh....listen.

Then there is reality!  
On the phone: Hello - no son, I haven’t seen your chrome book charger….
        The last time I saw your favorite sweatshirt, it was on your floor…
        Next Thursday?  I don’t know, I barely know what we are doing today…
No, I don’t need a free estimate to replace the vinyl siding on my brick house. 
At the door:     Hey there, do you have just a minute, I’ll be short.
Yes mam, it is about dinner time, but we were just in the area offering free window inspections.
Hello Pastor, hey this won’t take long I just need to tell you something.
In traffic:    Did they really just honk at me?
Please, we ALL need to hear your music while waiting in the drive-thru lane!
At home:    STOP YELLING AND COME IN HERE TO TALK TO ME.
        Turn down that noise you call music.
        I don’t care who started it, who left it out, or who’s turn it is…
The noise of life.
The noise of living.
The noise of being.  

How can we hear any one thing when it seems everything and everyone is making some kind of noise around us?  How can we listen along the path of life and faith when it seems there are way more and way louder distractions and disruptions in our world than ever before.  How can we hear the voice / voices we need to hear when we can’t even hear our own? 

We have walked through a lot of noise this past year and four months - locally, nationally, and internationally.  As families, as classmates, friends, and colleagues.   Personally - in our relationships, at work, and through change or disappointment. As organizations, school districts, and businesses.  We did not ask for all the noise and disruption.  We did not expect the interruptions we have endured.  We did not anticipate just how loud some voices, issues, causes, groups, or organizations would become and how silent or silenced others became.  It has been a journey on multiple levels, including what some would call a spiritual pilgrimage - a walk that takes us deeper into the heart of God by way of struggle, pain, loss, discomfort, and tension.  

Learning to listen is tough yet is is critical for our faith walk.  We can learn a great deal when we listen and listen well.  When we listen to understand and not judge.  When we listen as an act of mercy and not criticism.  When we listen for truth and not just what we want to hear.  Listening takes practice - a lifetime some would say.  It takes patience - to listen to their story, their need, their side and just our own.  It takes presence - you have to show up ready and willing to listen.   

In John 12, Jesus enters Jerusalem and begins final days on earth.  John records a fascinating and powerful account of Jesus speaking to the Jewish believers and a few interested Greeks.  Like so many before and after them, they heard his words but did not listen.  They listened but did not hear - could not hear, because they were listening for the wrong reasons, wrong motives.  They listened and heard what they wanted to hear, not what Jesus was truly saying.  They made it fit their narrative, not God’s.  

Church, we will never understand Jesus nor the attitude of the Jews, or even those first believers until we understand how Jesus turned their ideas upside down, replacing a dream of conquest with a vision of mercy on the Cross; a dream of vengeance, paybacks, and a we’re better than them kind of community, with a vision of sacrifice, pay it forward and no one is better than any kind of community..  Some say the tragedy is that they refused to try to listen - refused to try to hear what Jesus was really saying.  Maybe they did refuse, but if they did then so do we. 

This passage of scripture is one of the few in the New Testament where we are told that there was an actual, audible voice from heaven.  Some who heard, thought it was a loud noise - thunder, distant rumbling, or perhaps a loud, nearby storm rolling in, or even the growing crowds and commotion of the festival.  Others knew that Jesus had just prayed so they thought what they heard was an angel answering him.  With our vantage point to the story, and with John’s account, we know it wasn’t thunder, the roaring crowd, or an angel.  It was God. 

Even with our vantage point, I can’t help but ask,  how often do we miss the voice of God because we are not listening with our whole heart, soul, strength, and mind?  How many times do we miss what God is doing because we don’t want to hear it, don’t want to see it because it doesn’t fit our narrative for God?  

People of God, our entire life on earth is a long walk in the same direction and that direction is toward the God who created us.  Toward the others of this world.  Toward the folks walking through the same mess as we are.  Toward our truest self.  We cannot walk that pilgrim path successfully without listening to and for God; without deciphering all the noise around us. 

As we walk the last leg of this Lenten journey, I want to encourage, invite, and challenge you to commit yourself to listening.  Give ear (and heart and mind) to Jesus and remember, he likes to turn things upside down.  You might be surprised what you hear...and what you don’t. You might be surprised at what he is saying and what he is not.  AMEN.

Pastor Jenothy Irvine

He knew everything about her - the kind of woman she was, the relationships she had, how people talked about her, and the word on the street regarding her character.   He was the only one who felt her pain and need; the only one who stopped in his tracks to help. 

He knew the father’s heart was broken. He knew also, that the older brother was angry and resentful.  He didn’t have the answers to their why questions, yet he was  the only one who heard the cry of the lost son?

Mercy - the compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm.
    
A woman, married 5 different times and ostracized by her community.
A business man who cheated his clients.
A man who turned his back on God.
A homeless person who lives wherever a bed or a meal can be found; ignored by others.
An educated religious man who  questions his faith. 
A prostitute seeking second chances.
A sick woman who no one could help.
A rich man.
A lost soul.

These stories are our stories.  Recorded in the bible, they echo throughout humanity.  Stories of brokenness, anger, pride, disappointment, shame, fear, and failure.  Stories of longing, grief, heartbreak, tears, doubt, uncertainty, and defeat.  And in every single case, mercy was the gift given and the beginning of healing and wholeness. 

Mercy - the compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm.

Listening to the stories of those around us - giving time and space for the telling and the sharing; allowing the brokenness to surface, the fear or anger to be expressed, the apology or pain to be spoken.  Mercy is more than a shallow “it’s o.k.” “whatever, don’t do it again” kind of thing.   Rather, it rises from a depth of soul that recognizes the value of being heard and being seen.  It is a compassion for and a forgiveness of another person's struggle and shortcoming because it recognizes their own.  

The single greatest act of mercy is recorded in John chapter three.  There we read, “...God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” 

Do you ever wonder if the people in Jesus’ day had a clue?  Right before this section of scripture, is where Nicodemus, an educated religious leader and prominent man in the community cannot seem to figure out that Jesus is talking in metaphor and symbolism when he said a person must be born again.  Nicodemus can’t figure out how a grown person can enter the womb and come out again.  It’s almost comical.  He was so focussed on getting it right, he missed the point altogether.  The point that one must be born of the Spirit. 

But then I think about us - those who follow Jesus today.  I look at how divided we are.  How angry we get over things.  How impatient we are with one another.  How volatile things can become.  How much we obsess over being right and making sure everyone knows it.  How blind we are to our own weaknesses. How we move from one distraction to another never fully addressing the issue.  I wonder if people will read about us one day and think, they didn’t have a clue either. 

We don’t have to look very far or very hard to see that people are imperfect beings.  It doesn’t take much to realize the evidence of just how cruel, violent, and hateful people can be.  You don’t have to be very old or have much experience on this earth to realize how unfair, unjust, and unkind this world is.  

It is easy to see that when any one person allows anger, power, arrogance, bitterness, jealousy, or pain to come between them and the presence and purpose of God, between them and the teachings of Jesus, between them and another human being, there, darkness rules, sin prevails, and evil wins.  

We don’t deserve God’s grace for we all fall short.  BUT lets be clear, church, let’s be clear - that is not the end of the story!  That is not the end of the story!  For according to our text today, mercy gets the last word if we listen! Mercy gets to be the author of how our story ends, if we but hand her the pen.  

In other words, by the mercy of God we find our way out of the darkness and by offering mercy to others, we find our way to deeper, more meaningful relationships; we find our way through to forgiveness, wholeness, community, and growth. 

I wonder church, how would life be different if we listened for mercy?  How would relationships change if we used our listening as an act of mercy?  Could it be that when we do, we open ourselves up to the healing, peace, and hope that we all long for?  Could it be that listening is the answer to so many of our questions, barriers, divisions, harsh judgements, and intolerance? 

Could it be church, that God is teaching us to listen for and offer up mercy to those around us; those we disagree with, hold a grudge toward, or perhaps those who have hurt our feelings, or have different ideas but the same God as we do?  

God gave us the ultimate gift of compassion and forgiveness in the life of Jesus.  Jesus gave us the model, the formula, the strategy for how to live our lives.  The question is, are you listening?  Are we listening? 

We are just over half way through this journey we call Lent.  A journey into the wild places of the heart.  A journey of self reflection across the landscape or our lives, asking the hard questions, seeking the difficult answers, and trusting the truth that comes through the other side.   This week we continue to ask: Are you listening church?  Are you listening people of God?  Are you listening?

With all that I am, I pray it is  so.   AMEN

Pastor Jenothy Irvine

Sometimes there are differences in how the writers of the Gospels share the Message: In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, for example, Jesus goes into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, and then dismounts at the Temple and turns everything upside down at the end of his ministry. In John’s Gospel, Jesus enters Jerusalem to upset the “money changers” and chase out the animals at the beginning; only later in Chapter 12 does he ride into Jerusalem, and even there it is not clear that he goes to the Temple again (12:11-19). 
The point is not to get distracted by these differences but to understand why Jesus is with a whip driving out the sheep and the cattle at the beginning of his ministry.
In short, it is about sending a message regarding who he is. It is a sign that on the Passover, Jesus is going to lay down his life as a sacrifice and take it up again. He is going to die and rise again, and through his body draw all people unto himself (John 12:32). 
In doing this in the Temple, Jesus is also confronting what had become an unjust system. In fact, the whole focus of worship in the Temple had been lost. Remember that the Temple is where the people would go to draw near to God, to atone for their sin. It was the place where heaven and earth met. Following the Babylonia Exile, the people rebuilt the Temple and found faithful ways to worship God. The problem was that the Temple had become an end in itself. It was supposed to be a means, but people treated it as the end: people began to worship the building rather than the Builder – God!
Put differently: the Temple was ripe for destruction. The Temple had become more concerned about self-preservation than God’s glorification, and in Jesus’ eyes, this kind of idolatry will always lead to death (which is what will happen, of course, in 70 AD when the Romans burn the Temple to ground).
Maybe this is the wakeup call Jesus is sending early on: as God’s Word in the flesh (John 1:1, John 1:14), as God’s only begotten Son (John 3:16), as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29) – Jesus is the One in Whom heaven and earth meet. He is the One in whom God’s Spirit dwells, just as in the Temple. In other words, we can’t simply reduce our worship of God to a place or a building. We worship God in spirit and in truth, and we come to God through Jesus’s own body, by his death and resurrection, which is our Temple (John 4:24).
How may we worship God in spirit and in truth wherever we are? How may we listen to what Jesus is saying about his life?

Pastor Andy Kinsey

If we think we can follow Jesus without God’s help, we might want to revisit Peter’s response in Mark 8:31-38, because if Peter thought he could follow Jesus without God’s help, or without God revealing to him who Jesus was, he was sadly mistaken.

Indeed, it is often difficult to understand what people expect when they commit to following Jesus, but one thing is for sure: if we truly listen to what Jesus says about what he is going to do, we can expect that there is going to be a cross to bear at some point (Mk. 8:35). It seems straightforward, and yet, at least in this passage, it isn’t, for what Peter has in mind about following the Messiah is not quite the same as what Jesus has in mind.

In fact, following Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Messiah at Caesarea Philippi (Mk. 8:29), Jesus attempts to clarify what Peter’s confession will entail: that the Son of Man must undergo suffering and be rejected…be killed, and after three days rise again” (Mk. 8:31).

To be sure, such a picture for the Messiah is not on Peter’s radar. It is not the image in Peter’s head, which is not exactly wrong by the way! There is in Israel the tradition that when the Messiah would come, he would liberate the people and do so as a military leader, or as one of God’s anointed. The claim was that when the Messiah would come, suffering would cease and so would oppression, in this case, Roman rule.

And yet, here, Jesus appears to be saying the opposite. Jesus seems to be saying that when the Messiah comes, he is going to suffer and die, and that anyone who stands in the way might as well take the side of Satan (Mk. 8:33). Jesus is saying one thing, but Peter does not want to hear it. 

And that’s the problem: the problem is that what Jesus is teaching gets to the heart of what the Christian faith is about: change this point and we change the faith. 
​
How may we listen to what Jesus is teaching us? What changes will we need to make in our lives if we receive his message? What new life awaits us?

​Pastor Andy Kinsey

I was so relieved when my youngest son decided not to play football even though he had the build for it.  I had no desire to watch him on the line, getting smashed into, or running full on into another player and careening to the ground.  I didn’t want to sit in the stands and watch him slamming into other players or being at the bottom of a pile up.  I cringe just thinking about it still.  Instead, he decided to wrestle!  

Wrestling.  A sport defined as two opponents grappling in a hand to hand battle with the intent of throwing the other to the floor with force, and pressing their shoulders to the mat. A sport that taxes and contorts the body in ways you can’t imagine and requires mental and emotional fortitude as well.  So much for being relieved. 

 I share this with you because wrestling, I have come to realize, makes a great metaphor to illustrate the season in the church we call Lent.  The forty days we commit ourselves to intentional self reflection and spiritual examination.  It is indeed a wrestling match of the soul and requires us to look again at our commitment to following Jesus - our commitment to living a life reflective of Jesus’ teaching.  It is a time to remember what is important, to recognize the places we have grown cold or callous in our faith or understanding of sacrifice, and to take ownership of how we might be a part of the problem we so eagerly criticise rather than the solution.  

To help wrap our head around the purpose and meaning of Lent, I turn to one of my favorite authors, Frederik Beuchner, who puts it this way: “In many cultures there is an ancient custom of giving a tenth of each year’s income to some holy use.  For Christians, to observe the forty days of Lent is to do the same thing with roughly a tenth of each year’s days.  After being baptized by John in the river Jordan, Jesus went off alone into the wilderness where he spent forty days asking himself the question what it meant to be Jesus.  During Lent, Christians are supposed to ask one way or another, what it means to be themselves. If you had to bet everything you have on whether there is a God or whether there isn’t, which side would get your money and why?  When you look at your face in the mirror, what do you see in it that you most like and what do you see in it that you most deplore?  If you had only one last message to leave to the handful of people who are most important to you, what would it be in twenty-five words or less?  Of all the things you have done in your life, which is the one you would most like to undo?  Which is the one that makes you happiest to remember?  Is there any person in the world, or any cause, that, if circumstances called for it, you would be willing to die for?  If this were the last day of your life, what would you do with it?  To hear yourself answer questions like these is to begin to hear something of not only who you are but of both what you are becoming and what you are failing to become.  It can be a pretty depressing business all in all, but if sackcloth and ashes are at the start of it, something like Easter may be at the end” (Whistling in the Dark pp. 74-75). 

That is Lent - a wrestling match with the soul.  Throughout the bible we read of individuals and groups of people who find themselves in a wrestling match with God, angels, demons, and themselves.  Wrestling with who they are, who they are to become, where to go, how to move forward, how to be faithful to God in the midst of pain, anger, injustice, uncertainty, and tragedy.  How to be patient and courageous.

In the gospel of Mark, 1:9-15, a freshly baptized Jesus heads to the wilderness to face his own wrestling match.  I believe the account of Jesus’ baptism and wilderness experience is told in the gospel to show us that Jesus, in his humanity, endured the hard stuff too. He wrestled with who he was and what he was asked to do; his power and his authority, his hunger and his pain.  So that anyone asking soul deep questions about identity, purpose, or meaning of life, can come to understand that Jesus faced those questions as well.  

The wilderness of the soul can be a frightful and dangerous place but it can also be a place where our senses are heightened like never before. Over the next several weeks we will explore the wilderness together.  Whether you face a wilderness of the heart - a soul searching time, a wilderness of the mind - a time of questioning, reason, and doubt, or a physical wilderness - a time of pain, brokenness, and discomfort, there is much to be learned in the listening.  There is much to be given and received, lost and found. 

The beauty of Lent - is that it can show us how God moves among us even in the midst of pain and anger, injustice, uncertainty and tragedy.  Wrestling is a back and forth, give and take, kind of struggle where we continually search for our footing and hand hold, balance, and position.  It’s not necessarily meant to be easy.  It’s not meant to be all fun and games.  But rather, it is meant for us, like Jesus, to stand us on the edge of a personal wilderness, remembering our baptism - our commitment to God.  We remember the words of God telling us, “you are my beloved, you matter, you are capable, you are where you need to be, your life has meaning, and you are enough...now walk in faith - find your way with me (God) step by step, come what may.     

As we, together yet alone, take our first steps into this season, let us do so with the following blessing, written by author, artist, and poet, Jan Richardson.  
Beloved is Where We Begin
If you would enter
Into the wilderness,
Do not begin
Without a blessing.

Do not leave without hearing
Who you are:
Beloved,
Named by the One
Who has traveled this path
Before you.

Do not go 
Without letting it echo
In your ears,
And if you find
It is hard
To let it into your heart,
Do not despair.
That is what this journey is for.

I cannot promise
This blessing will free you
From danger,
From fear,
From hunger
Or thirst,
From the scorching
Of sun
Or the fall
Of the night.

But I can tell you 
That on this path
There will be help.

I can tell you
That on this way
There will be rest.

I can tell you
That you will know 
The strange graces
That come to our aid
Only on a road
Such as this,
That fly to meet us
Bearing comfort
And strength,
That come alongside us
For no other cause
That to lean themselves
Toward our ear, 
And with their 
Curious insistence
Whisper our name: beloved, beloved, beloved. 

People of God, may the wrestling begin… amen.

​Pastor Jenothy Irvine

Glory.  We are fascinated by it.  We are moved when we see it.  We stand in awe of it.   So why is it when it comes to our faith, to the glory of God revealed in Jesus, and lived out in those who believe, that few of us have the guts to truly live it,  and many fail to see it?  The most glorious news one could share with someone else, yet we don’t have the guts to share it, or our guts only share it so far, within limits.   The best news anyone could hope to receive - that they are loved beyond measure and their life has meaning and purpose yet they can’t see past their circumstance, resentment, or regret; or past the judgement, criticism, and callus of believers.

Our eyes are wide open to the glory of an Olympic athlete getting a gold, the underdog winning the hard fought fight, an unknown poet taking the inauguration stage, or a former Colts quarterback making it to the Hall of Fame.  We revel in such glory stories.  Yet when it comes to the greatest glory story of all, we often treat it like another entre in the buffett line. 

The Apostle Paul, in his second letter to the church in Corinth addressed two things: a message to believers about how their lives are meant to be a lens through which others see the glory of God, AND a lesson to believers that there are people around them that cannot see such glory because they are looking elsewhere; distracted or focused on other things.

When was the last time your life - what you do, where you go, who you help, the way you treat people, where you spend your money, the words you speak, the projects you get involved in, the causes you support, and how you spend your time; was the lens through which someone saw the glory of God?  The peace of Jesus?  The presence of love?  The attitude of humility?  The grace of forgiveness? 
When people look at you - your family, your lifestyle, your choices, your behavior, do they see glory?  When people listen to you - your opinions, ideas, conversations, do they hear glory?  

It is so easy to go about life and forget why we are here - forget that God created us for good.  Easy to fall into habits, patterns, and ways of living that get us by and yet do not reflect glory.  We become entrenched in the day in, day out, routine of it all; going to school, getting a job, earning a paycheck, paying the bills, raising the kids, running the kids, cleaning the house, attending meetings, changing the oil, getting a loan, working on a project, taking out the trash, feeding the pets, checking the mail, and on and on it goes until perhaps we lose sight of the glory we have been given and are to be shining and sharing with others.  

Paul is telling the believers then and now, that yes it gets hard, yes it gets uncomfortable, yes it can be mundane, yes there are no guarantees you won’t get hurt or suffer, it’s risky, and yes it takes guts AND we don’t give up, we don’t get too comfortable, we don’t hide from the hard stuff, we don’t silence or cancel one another out, and we don’t go blind to the glory-filled things God is doing.  

I believe he is telling the church and by that I mean those who follow Jesus, that their lives as a community - a body of believers (not just individuals) is meant to show the glory of God - our purpose is to live life together, in such a way that the glory of God shines through, even when its hard and even when people may not see what we are trying to do.  We press on with guts and prayer, trusting that God’s glory, not ours, will prevail and that people will come to have eyes to see, including the eyes of some within the church.

The glory of God appears in a variety of ways - in expected and unexpected places.  It takes guts to live a life that reveals such glory - it takes guts to see such glory.   I pray dear church, we are up for both. 
Amen

​Pastor Jenothy Irvine