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(Many thanks to Marcia Mcfee and the Worship Design Studio for providing these resources free during this pandemic! We have adapted them slightly for use in our context. I'll post both the Word and Reflection and Action Response, as well as the Have Goodwill action for the week.)
Word and Reflection Melissa: Here is how the story of Jesus’ surprise visit on the road and at the dinner happened. Imagine yourself walking down the road and a stranger comes along… Sharon: On that same day, two disciples were traveling to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem. They were talking to each other about everything that had happened. While they were discussing these things, Jesus himself arrived and joined them on their journey. They were prevented from recognizing him. He said to them, “What are you talking about as you walk along?” They stopped, their faces downcast. The one named Cleopas replied, “Are you the only visitor to Jerusalem who is unaware of the things that have taken place there over the last few days?” He said to them, “What things?” They said to him, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth. Because of his powerful deeds and words, he was recognized by God and all the people as a prophet. But our chief priests and our leaders handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him. We had hoped he was the one who would redeem Israel. All these things happened three days ago. But there’s more: Some women from our group have left us stunned. They went to the tomb early this morning and didn’t find his body. They came to us saying that they had even seen a vision of angels who told them he is alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found things just as the women said. They didn’t see him.” Then Jesus said to them, “You foolish people! Your dull minds keep you from believing all that the prophets talked about. Wasn’t it necessary for the Christ to suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then he interpreted for them the things written about himself in all the scriptures, starting with Moses and going through all the Prophets. When they came to Emmaus, he acted as if he was going on ahead. But they urged him, saying, “Stay with us. It’s nearly evening, and the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them. After he took his seat at the table with them, he took the bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Their eyes were opened and they recognized him, but he disappeared from their sight. They said to each other, “Weren’t our hearts on fire when he spoke to us along the road and when he explained the scriptures for us?” They got up right then and returned to Jerusalem. They found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying to each other, “The Lord really has risen! He appeared to Simon!” Then the two disciples described what had happened along the road and how Jesus was made known to them as he broke the bread. - Luke 24:13-35 Melissa: After Christ was no longer with his disciples in the flesh, several letters began to circulate, making the rounds to the early Christian communities. This one is from a letter called “First Peter” that is recorded in our New Testament. It reminds people that the story of Jesus is about new birth for all people, and we are to be seeds of God’s life-giving love. Eldon: Christ was chosen before the creation of the world, but was only revealed at the end of time. This was done for you, who through Christ are faithful to the God who raised him from the dead and gave him glory. So now, your faith and hope should rest in God. As you set yourselves apart by your obedience to the truth so that you might have genuine affection for your fellow believers, love each other deeply and earnestly. Do this because you have been given new birth—not from the type of seed that decays but from seed that doesn’t. This seed is God’s life-giving and enduring word. Melissa: Jesus’ table ministry was a preeminent way that he showed and shared a depth of love unseen in his time. He ate and spent time with those considered unworthy of his attention. Even in his post-resurrection appearances, it was in the breaking of bread that he was “recognized”–perhaps because so many times in his ministry, it was at tables that he invited people to open up and share “straight from the heart”–getting right to the heart of the matter. As we gather this day, we remember that, at the heart, his message was unconditional love. To offer ourselves “straight from the heart” is the seed he planted in us, and this is the growth we must continue to nurture. Ben and I keep a running list of legendary meals that we’ve had - meals that just stand out in our memory...one of them was at Evo for our 12th wedding anniversary a few years ago...one of them was at a dinner party when we were living in Haverhill and from time to time - usually when we’re out at a new place - we’ll go through the list and while excellent food certainly does make a difference, part of what makes the meal memorable is the connection and conversation around the table. It’s the energy that’s flowing as we eat and drink and share, it’s the talk about things that matter, that are closest to our hearts, it’s about who you are sharing the experience with that makes the most difference. I can’t think of the number of times where twelve or more people were crammed into the kitchen of someone’s house, sharing food together, even though there was ample space in the dining room or the living room. But equally memorable are the morning long conversations spent in coffee shops with scones and lattes or the times sharing beverages and appetizers on the porch on a warm summer evening. There’s something about how breaking bread together breaks us open as well - and allows us to share more of ourselves with others…that allows us to offer ourselves “straight from the heart.” For me, I have to think that’s part of what Jesus meant when he said to remember him in eating the bread and the cup - that when we share food together, there’s something sacred happening that binds us together in ways that reflect Jesus’s love. At the table, we offer one another more than food and drink, we offer ourselves to one another, an act of love that is far greater than whatever else is on the menu. Action Response Leader: I invite you to put both hands on your heart, close your eyes for just a moment, and think about a message of love. Then reach out your hands to your sides and imagine two people on either side of you who you want to offer love to right now. You can reach out with text or call later to let them know you were thinking of them at this moment. In this moment, we just let this gesture plant more seeds of love, straight from the heart. HAVE GOODWILL Every week, we’ll have a time to put what we’ve shared and talked about into action. This week we talked about Jesus breaking bread with the disciples and the seeds of love planted within us that allow us to offer ourselves to the world “straight from the heart.” Because more and more, I think many of us are realizing that this is the truest gift we can offer the world. This season is stripping away so much and that allows us to discern the heart of things in our own lives. This week, I encourage you to have a Zoom dinner party or cocktail hour or coffee date with friends. Zoom for free allows for a 40 minute call with 100 people at any time so invite some folks to share a meal with you! (Gloria puts https://zoom.us/pricing link in the chat) If you are Zoomed out - this week, bake a loaf of bread to share with a neighbor. There’s an easy artisan bread recipe if you need one (Gloria link: https://www.itsalwaysautumn.com/homemade-artisan-bread-easiest-bread-recipe-ever.html) - and as you mix the ingredients and let the loaf bake in the oven, be in prayer for the person or family you’ll be giving this to.
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Here are the images I shard in Sunday's Holy Humor Sermon. I cannot take credit for their creation! I hope you enjoy them and that they bring laughter to your heart and lightness to your spirit. Click on each one to see the full image. This is not the Easter we expected to have.
This is an Easter where sanctuaries are closed, cold and empty and silent. There are no Easter flowers strewn around the altar, given in memory of loved ones who have gone before us or shared in honor of those still with us. There are no glorious choirs belting out Alleluias. There are no filled pews with people decked out in their Easter finest. There are no extended family Easter dinners, all crammed around the table with a huge ham or shanks of lamb to share. There are no kids crawling around community parks in search of Easter Eggs hidden in tree limbs or nestled among patches of newly budded flowers. This is certainly an Easter like no other. Well – perhaps like one other Easter. I’m reminded in many ways how much this Easter might have some things in common with that very first Easter nearly two thousand years ago. After all, that first Easter found the disciples hidden away in their homes, overcome with fear and anxiety…and when Mary realizes she’s talking to Jesus in the garden, he tells her not to touch him. Talk about social distancing before it was a thing. Here we are, all tucked away in our homes, sheltering in place – many of us facing more than a little anxiety when we have to go get groceries or conduct essential business. We wear masks to hide our faces to protect others from the germs we may or may not carry and wear gloves to keep the germs off our hands…and the thought of touching other people – even as we long to give our friends hugs – it’s so difficult. I think about that first Easter and those first disciples – their world had come crashing to an end over the course of a week. They had paraded into Jerusalem expecting this to be the beginning of a new era of Jesus as King, a rejection and subversion of Empire, a glorious triumph of God’s reign. And while those things were – in fact – about to become true, it was not in the way they had anticipated. Jesus was arrested, beaten, flogged and crucified as a revolutionary – and the disciples, as his closest and known associates, thought the government was coming for them next. To them, it was over. The new era they had yearned and hoped for had turned into a new era of fear and exile. There wasn’t just grief over the loss of their teacher, their rabbi – there was grief about losing this new world they were to build together. And haven’t we, too, grieved over plans and hopes and dreams? Graduations of seniors canceled, funerals indefinitely put on hold, long-awaited vacations or weekend getaways refunded, coffee dates, weddings – no more. We grieve over lost jobs, the upending of plans and our daily routines and rhythms, how this disruption will affect the most vulnerable among us. We grieve not being able to gather on this, one of the holiest days of the Christian year. And we wonder what Easter even means when there is so much hurting and suffering and pain in the world right now. But, I think, that is precisely the point – and it is one that goes overlooked so often. We’re in this new era – not one we would have expected, or even wanted – but this pandemic has been an apocalyptic unveiling of just how broken our world is – from our economic system that primarily benefits those who have means and not those living paycheck to paycheck, from our healthcare system that has been overwhelmed, to our global climate crisis created by our frantic need for more – and this unveiling has left so many people wondering how to take care of themselves and their families, unable to say goodbye to loved ones as they pass, trapped in homes with their abusers or in the cycles of addiction, fearing infection because of weakened immune systems, or risking themselves at work. And so, let me remind you, that the first Easter came to a bunch of frightened, grief-striken disciples huddled in a house…to a woman out for a nature walk who dared to believe that Jesus was alive. This was the first Easter – and these were the first Easter people – a people slowly but surely finding their way to hope out of the shattered pieces of their lives – the ruined plans and the buried dreams. Let me read for you so you can hear again the verses that Ben wrote for Christ the Lord is Risen today. Sanctuaries dark as night, empty pews and dust mote light, do God’s people sing alone? Do we wander with no home? Given life: a second birth, made Christ’s body o’er the Earth, not a building, not a place, but Your people: voices raised! The promise of Easter isn’t that resurrection brings us back to normal. It’s not about the strength and courage we need to keep on keeping on until one day we can get back to business as usual or life as we knew it before. It isn’t about living in hope that one day things might be restored to the way things were. The promise of Easter is that the resurrection brings a new normal to the world – that through death we are offered new life, that Christ draws near to us in our grief and suffering and shows us hope that life can be different – that the world can be different. The promise of Easter gives us strength and courage to acknowledge the fears within us and to let God bring the broken pieces of our lives together in a way we never dared thought possible. The resurrection is an invitation to hope in a world beyond our wildest imaginings…and to be a people scattered throughout the earth to live the good news that Jesus is alive – to be the body of Christ over all the earth. Our church buildings may be empty – they may look and feel much like the tomb on that very first Easter. But that just means that Jesus is out and about in the world. Jesus is alive – the church is alive – in all the ways we reach out to one another and share hope and love together despite the social distance. Our church is alive in every donation made to the food pantry and in every gift of food received by people here on the island. Our church is alive in every phone call, email, and text message sent…and received. Our church is alive when we share words of hope and encouragement on social media – or when we remind others to be loving and kind. It’s also alive when we’re the ones needing to be reminded. Our church is alive when we meet to share prayer over Zoom, or when we need to rely on each other to help ground ourselves again in God’s presence. Our church is alive when we share our fears, confess our failings, express our gratitude for each other. As we journey through these pandemic days, we don’t know yet what the new normal will be. I do believe that our shared life together as a country cannot go back to what it was and there will be a great temptation to go back to business as usual. But here is too much at stake for the most vulnerable in our country and our world, and that there is too much at stake for our planet earth. And I believe that we – as Easter people – as people who have sat in the ashes of our lives and dared to let God bring us into a resurrection life – can be a sign and witness to this new way of living in the world. And I believe that this is a moment where we can choose as individuals and as a people together to live life differently. There may be no choirs…our Easter finest this morning may be sweatpants and a t-shirt….and yet we still proclaim the Easter promise – that Christ is risen; Christ is risen indeed – and so will we, into Jesus’ resurrection life. Amen. Matthew 21:1-11
1-3 When they neared Jerusalem, having arrived at Bethphage on Mount Olives, Jesus sent two disciples with these instructions: “Go over to the village across from you. You’ll find a donkey tethered there, her colt with her. Untie her and bring them to me. If anyone asks what you’re doing, say, ‘The Master needs them!’ He will send them with you.” 4-5 This is the full story of what was sketched earlier by the prophet: Tell Zion’s daughter, “Look, your king’s on his way, poised and ready, mounted On a donkey, on a colt, foal of a pack animal.” 6-9 The disciples went and did exactly what Jesus told them to do. They led the donkey and colt out, laid some of their clothes on them, and Jesus mounted. Nearly all the people in the crowd threw their garments down on the road, giving him a royal welcome. Others cut branches from the trees and threw them down as a welcome mat. Crowds went ahead and crowds followed, all of them calling out, “Hosanna to David’s son!” “Blessed is he who comes in God’s name!” “Hosanna in highest heaven!” 10 As he made his entrance into Jerusalem, the whole city was shaken. Unnerved, people were asking, “What’s going on here? Who is this?” 11 The parade crowd answered, “This is the prophet Jesus, the one from Nazareth in Galilee.” One: The Word of Life. All: Thanks be to God. Sermon/Reflection I hit the wall this week. It was Friday afternoon and I looked at my living room floor with a cranky eight month old and a four year old who was desperate for my attention as I had emails to respond to and my to-do list was outstripping my capacity and I just had this feeling of dread and despair wash over me. 17...18 days into self-isolation life and I knew I wasn’t in a sustainable rhythm and it was all we could do to keep our household from disintegrating into complete and utter chaos, and I thought to myself...I can’t keep this up. What am I doing? I can’t survive if this is what life is going to be like for six more weeks. I was so in my head, wrapped up with the mountain of tasks in front of me that I couldn’t see my way clear of it, couldn’t figure out a path forward other than lots of late nights or early mornings at a computer screen to finish whatever urgent tasks didn’t get completed from the day before….and that didn’t sound much like a way out. What does this have to do with Palm Sunday? The story we heard read for us this morning comes at a difficult time in Israel’s history. The people were living under Roman Rule, but were desperate to be their own sovereign nation again - to remember the glory days of might and power they enjoyed under King David. They yearned for a king to come and restore them to that wealth and prosperity and freedom from oppression - and Jesus seemed to fit the bill. With much of Jesus’ talk about the kingdom of God and release to the captives and miraculous healings, it seemed like Jesus was the one who was going to bring Israel back. The people expected Jesus to lead a political coup - to overthrow the government and establish Israel as an independent kingdom once more. As he comes into the city - the wave of hopes and dreams and expectation goes before him. Though he enters on a lowly donkey, it’s as if it was a royal procession, with branches and garments strewn on the ground before him, with shouts of “Hosanna to David’s son!” “Blessed is he who comes in God’s name!” “Hosanna in highest heaven!” “Hosanna” if you didn’t know, is a Hebrew word. We think about it as a word of praise, as a celebratory shout. But Hosanna in Hebrew means “save now”... “save us”... the people were looking to Jesus to save them from oppression, from exploitation, from poverty and hunger...and to do that through military means. Of course, we know a bit how the story played out - that because of his subversive message of love that threatened the fabric of the empire, he was executed at the hands of the Roman government as a criminal...that the kingdom he came to establish was not one that could be built by militaristic might...that what he came to save us from was not our external circumstances, but from ourselves. When I think about what it means that Jesus saves us - I don’t think about Jesus rescuing us from the fires of hell, or paying the price for our sins so that we don’t have to, or that Jesus steps in as a hero and graciously grants us forgiveness when we fail or falter. I think about Jesus saving us from the fact that our faults and failings don’t have to define us. Jesus saving us means that it is God who comes near to us, we don’t have to work ourselves, drive ourselves, perform ourselves into this thing called grace, and because of it, God can make beautiful things happen in the broken places of our lives. Jesus saves us from letting our brokenness become our reality. Friday for me was a stark reminder that I needed saving. It’s not something that it’s easy for me to admit - because I’m totally someone who likes to do it all and have it together - probably like many of us - but I was drowning, I was at my limit, and as I sat with that realization for awhile, I came to understand that what had brought me to that point was a place that needs healing in my life - a place that Jesus needs to save me from - and for me it’s the need to perform, to overfunction, to meet all the needs I see and be the one that makes it all happen and if I drill down even deeper than that, it’s about the feeling that I need to prove myself because I’m young...because I’m a woman...because I feel like maybe I’m not good enough...or worthy enough...….you get the picture. Jesus needs to save me from that. It can be a hard and scary thing to admit, that we need saving...and that we need Jesus to do it, that we can’t get there ourselves. The story from scripture tells us that upon entering the city, all of Jerusalem was unsettled and shaken. There was unrest and turmoil - who is this that has come here? Jesus coming to save us - can be a struggle - because we have to admit that we don’t have control over something in our life, we have to admit that our sins and brokenness are bigger than we are, we have to admit we can’t do it on our own and that only God can save us. Sometimes it takes hitting a wall to come to face to face with that truth. The gift in that, however, is that our sin, our failings, the places we’ve messed up - while real - aren’t the final word on who we are...that God loves us too much to let us be defined by our wounds...our brokenness... our sin...because God is the one who makes all things new in this beautiful resurrection life that we share in together and that we’ll celebrate more fully next week. What would you ask God to save you from? Take a moment and think about that. Maybe something immediately jumps to mind...perhaps you snapped at your kids this morning...perhaps you’re caught in hopelessness...perhaps it’s something that you need to tease out a bit. I’m going to give you a minute to think about what within yourself you need Jesus to save you from. [minute] When you have it take that piece of paper and marker, and write “Save me from __________” in big huge letters and hold it up to the screen. And hold it up there for a minute or two…” Let us pray - God, amid the parade and festivities as you entered Jerusalem, your people cried out to you - Hosanna, save us - blessed is your name. Your people this day continue to call out to you, to save us from the things that bind us...from the things that hurt us and others...from the things that cause us to stumble and fall. We ask for you to save us - to carry us - to take those broken places and breathe afresh your life that we may cling more fully to the knowledge and assurance that we are your children. Save us this day...and the next….save us this moment...and the next...and enable us to claim ourselves as your beloved, people that you have fashioned for yourself. We pray this in the name of the one who came to save us, Jesus Christ. Amen. Scripture - Ezekiel 37:1-14 (from The Voice)
Ezekiel: 37 The Eternal had a hold on me, and I couldn’t escape it. The divine wind of the Eternal One picked me up and set me down in the middle of the valley, but this time it was full of bones. 2 God led me through the bones. There were piles of bones everywhere in the valley—dry bones left unburied. Eternal One (to Ezekiel): 3 Son of man, do you think these bones can live? Ezekiel: Eternal Lord, certainly You know the answer better than I do. Eternal One: 4-5 Actually, I do. Prophesy to these bones. Tell them to listen to what the Eternal Lord says to them: “Dry bones, I will breathe breath into you, and you will come alive. 6 I will attach muscles and tendons to you, cause flesh to grow over them, and cover you with skin. I will breathe breath into you, and you will come alive. After this happens, you will know that I am the Eternal.” Ezekiel: 7 So I did what God told me to do: I prophesied to the bones. As I was speaking, I heard a loud noise—a rattling sound—and all the bones began to come together and form complete skeletons. 8 I watched and saw muscles and tendons attach to the bones, flesh grow over them, and skin wrap itself around the reforming bodies. But there was still no breath in them. Eternal One: 9 Prophesy to the breath. Speak, son of man, and tell them what the Eternal Lord has to say: “O sweet breath, come from the four winds and breathe into these who have been killed. Make these corpses come alive.” Ezekiel: 10 So I did what God told me to do: I prophesied to the breath. As I was speaking, breath invaded the lifeless. The bodies came alive and stood on their feet. I realized then I was looking at a great army. Eternal One: 11 Son of man, these bones are the entire community of Israel. They keep saying, “Our bones are dry now, picked clean by scavengers. All hope is gone. Our nation is lost.” Ezekiel: 12-13 He told me to prophesy and tell them what He said. Eternal One: Pay attention, My people! I am going to open your graves and bring you back to life! I will carry you straight back to the land of Israel. Then you will know that I am the Eternal One. 14 I will breathe My Spirit into you, and you will be alive once again. I will place you back in your own land. After that you will know I, the Eternal, have done what I said I would do. Ezekiel: So said the Eternal One. One: The Word of Life. All: Thanks be to God. Sermon/Reflection “My days are a thirsty atonal combination of the mundane and the apocalyptic.” That’s a quote from poet Audre Lourde, reflecting on her experience of living with cancer, and I came across it at a gathering of other spiritual leaders who were trying to figure out what spiritual practices look like in these strange times we’re living in. One of the presenters shared this quote as a way of describing the tension that many of us feel - on the one hand, life has to go on, our everyday tasks continue...on the other hand, things seem rather apocalyptic -- not in the world coming to an end, fire and brimstone sense, but apocalyptic in it’s true nature, which is about a shift in perspective, a shift in worldview, a moment when the world as you’ve known and experienced it ends….and a new one begins….and you need a new narrative to hold it all. You have to deal with both...the mundane...and the apocalyptic. “My days are a thirsty atonal combination of the mundane and the apocalyptic.” So this passage we heard from Ezekiel is the one appointed from the lectionary for this Sunday in Lent - this season of spiritual preparation that leads to Easter. And when I read it earlier this week, I don’t think I had ever before been so struck by the resonances between what’s going on in our world and in our country and in our lives and an arbitrary scripture passage from a 3 year cycle of readings. And we find ourselves in this dry, barren, thirsty valley full of bones. Dry bones. Bones bleached white by the sun kind of bones. Bones that have absolutely no chance of ever coming back to life. They are deader than dead. Pretty hopeless….and so God’s question “do you think these bones can live?” seems like a no-brainer. Of course not would be the rational, reasonable answer. And yet Ezekiel says “you know the answer better than I do” - Ezekiel seems to look upon this valley of dry dusty bones with a different perspective. Where some might see despair...hopelessness...lifeless desolation...Ezekiel looks and realizes that God can do something with this. Whether he speaks this out of genuine confidence in God’s ability to perform miracles or out of uncertainty...Ezekiel’s response reminds us that what is beyond our human perspective or knowing is not beyond that of God’s...that God’s imagination outstrips our own. And yet, even in this, God relies on human agency. God asks Ezekiel to speak to the bones to accomplish this miraculous wonder in bringing life out of death….and what was once a scene of desolation and grief becomes an image of power and strength - through God’s words and breath in cooperation with Ezekiel’s own. It’s an apocalyptic moment, where God’s action brings about a whole new perspective, something that was so completely out of the bounds of human imagination. And God wants us to be ready for it - right in the midst of our everyday, mundane lives. The last two verses of the passage, God says “Pay attention, My people! I am going to open your graves and bring you back to life!...I will breathe My Spirit into you, and you will be alive once again. I will place you back in your own land.” Pay attention. Pay attention. I think for me that’s the invitation and the challenge of this time where life isn’t what it used to be two weeks ago. Pay attention to our bodies...to our emotions...to our rhythms and routines...pay attention and notice what is going on inside us...around us….pay attention to our breathing...and pay attention to where God is showing up...to what God is saying...to what God is inviting you into in this apocalyptic moment. We’re going to do that together for a moment...paying attention to God through centering our breathing together. Breath is such a powerful image in the Bible - the Hebrew word for it is Ruach -- breath...wind...spirit...used both in reference to human breathing...and as a name for God. The Greek word pneuma is used similarly. And so we can imagine...as we get into a comfortable posture...as we close our eyes and focus our awareness on our breathing….that as we slowly breathe in, we’re not just taking in oxygen to nourish our bodies but we’re taking in God’s spirit….and as we breathe out, we’re not just breathing out the molecules our bodies can’t use, we’re breathing out all that doesn’t ground us in this moment...everything that distracts from God’s presence with us here and now…. ...we breathe in the breath of God…. ...we breathe out tenions… ...we take in what we need…. ...and breath out to make room for more…. ...as we breathe in and out we are cleansed and renewed...we are reminded of God’s spirit breathing over the waters of creation and the word that infused the universe with light… ...we are reminded of the dusty dry and barren places in our lives and God’s renewing breath suffusing us with life…. ...we are reminded of the wind of the Holy Spirit empowering God’s people to speak and embody love… ...we take this time to ground ourselves in God’s presence...and we pay attention to God’s movement in our lives and in our world… ...as you continue to breathe...what do you notice? What is your attention drawn toward? Take a moment to write it in the chat box…. ...Sit with what you have noticed for a minute...and offer it to God. What is God’s response to what you have shared? What is God saying to you through this? Take some time...and as you are moved to do so, share what you are hearing back from God in this moment in the chat comments. I want to close this time by sharing this poem from Steve Garnaas-Holmes called Dry Bones. There are parts of you, maybe great parts, that have withered and died. Maybe spiritual gifts that you have buried, a face of yourself you have closeted, wounds ignored, hopes starved. Some have passed on, forever. But some, God may breathe life into. God may bring bone to bone and sinew to sinew. You may be aware of it; a daily ache. Or it may be unknown to you, a hidden mystery. What part of you is God bringing back to life? Where is God's breath blowing, the dry bones moving? Don't direct the wind. Don't even worry where it is. Just prophesy to the dry bones. Speak hope. Be open to the miracle. Let God breathe, and wait. Amen. |
AuthorPastor Melissa Yosua-Davis has been serving the community of Chebeague and its church since July 2015. She currently lives on the island with her husband and five year old son and 2 year old daughter, along with their yellow lab. Read here recent sermon excerpts, thoughts on life and faith, and current announcements for the church community. She also blogs at Going on to Perfection. Archives
December 2022
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