February Pastor's Letter

Dear church family,

“I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.” – Philippians 3:10-11

If you’ve been in church with us recently, you’ve heard me quote this Scripture from Paul’s letter to the Philippians. It’s a passage that I believe God highlighted for me at the beginning of the year, and it’s been guiding my study, preparation, and preaching through the Gospel of Luke this winter. I share it with you because perhaps it reflects your desire, too: “I want to know Christ…”

But how do we know Christ? We are, after all, Christians (or “little Christs”), so shouldn’t knowing Jesus be our primary focus? Our modus operandi, our raison d'être, our mission in life? Absolutely. None of us would disagree… yet we might admit that such a task is easier said than done. After all, we can’t meet Jesus for a cup of coffee the way we might meet each other at City Lights or Bojangles; we can’t shake his hand or give him a hug or hear him laugh. But that doesn’t mean we can’t know him.

This is where Scripture comes in: we can open our Bibles and learn more about Jesus in the Old and New Testaments (not just the gospels), because we believe that “every story whispers his name.” This is why prayer is so important: we can speak to Jesus and invite him to speak to us in return, as “deep calling unto deep.” And this is why worship, fellowship, and service are integral to being the church: we can spend time together as the body of Christ, remembering the one who said, “I will be with you always.”

So, I invite you to get to know Christ at First Presbyterian Church as February begins and as we celebrate the beginning of Lent, the 40-day period of repentance and renewal before Holy Week and Easter. Lent provides us with the opportunity to examine our lives – not in order to feel miserable because of our sins, but to feel grateful, and to live gratefully, because of our Savior. Lent is, therefore, the perfect time for us to commit (or re-commit) ourselves to the dusty road of discipleship, and to meet Jesus there. I hope you’ll come along.

See you Sunday,
Blake

Pastor’s Letter

Dear church family,

Over the summertime, my family and I have enjoyed taking Saturday trips to forested spots near Sylva.  Our favorites thus far have been the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest near Robbinsville and the Cradle of Forestry in America near Brevard.  Both locations have afforded us beautiful picnic areas, intrepretive knowledge of history and landscape, and long, peaceful walks in the woods.  I highly recommend you visit them, even if you’ve already been there before.

There’s something special about trees, isn’t there?  They offer us shade and fruit and lumber.  They’re a haven for pollinators and other creatures.  They purify the air around us.  They direct our eyes down – towards the earth – and up – towards the heavens – and in this they reorient us to the things of God.  As Joyce Kilmer himself wrote, “I think that I shall never see / A poem lovely as a tree… / Poems are made by fools like me, / But only God can make a tree.” 

Is it any wonder, then, that Scripture talks a lot about trees?  There’s the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil in Genesis 2; the tree of wisdom in Psalm 1 and Proverbs 3; and the new tree of life in Relevation 22.  Remember that the cross of Jesus is often called a tree throughout the New Testament (“Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree.’” – Galatians 3:13).  And then, remember how Jesus described himself as a vine (very similar to a tree!), and his followers as his branches, in John 15.  So, yes, there is something special about trees.

This doesn’t mean we worship trees – we Christians aren’t pagans or pantheists.  But it does mean we see them as signposts of the Kingdom, reminding us of God’s goodness in creation and of our call to be stewards of that creation.  In this last stretch of summertime, I hope you spend some time among the trees.  And, as you do, give thanks to the God who made them.

Yours in Christ,

Blake

Pastor's Letter

Dear church family,

Ordinary Time is here. This is the season of the church calendar that begins on Pentecost and lasts until Advent, some six months later. We might think it’s an uneventful time — after all, there are no major church holidays to celebrate — but it’s a season full of meaning and growth, should we have the eyes to see it and the hearts to receive it.

For instance, ordinary time is when we will have Vacation Bible School, one of my favorite weeks of the year. This summer, we are partnering with three other downtown congregations (First Baptist, First United Methodist, and St. John’s Episcopal) to offer fun, fellowship, and faith formation for children at Bridge Park. We’d love to have you get involved! You can find more information and register by clicking here.

Ordinary time is also when we welcome our seasonal members and visitors back into our midst. Our brothers and sisters in Christ from Florida, South Carolina, California, South Korea, and elsewhere call Sylva “home” for the summer months, and we are delighted to have them as a part of us while they are here.

And ordinary time is when we have fun together. Not that we don’t have fun the rest of the year — we do! — but this season affords us even more opportunities to cook out, hang out, and reach out to the community that’s buzzing all around us. (Just come to our Fourth of July celebration or September campout to see what I mean.)

In her wonderful book Liturgy of the Ordinary, Tish Harrison Warren reminds us of this simple truth:

“The new life into which we are baptized is lived out in days, hours, and minutes. God is forming us into a new people. And the place of that formation is in the small moments of today.”

I like that — “the small moments of today.” Being a Christian doesn’t have to be any bigger than that.

I am so grateful to have a church family to be “ordinary” with, and I hope you will join us for worship and life together this summer as we keep following Jesus, one day at a time.

Yours in Christ,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

Dear church family,

Spring is an active time time in Sylva. It always is! Ask almost anybody in our community – landscapers, college students, rafting or fishing guides, or families with young children – how they are doing these days and the answer will likely be, “busy.” Busy with work, study, soccer games, or social events. Busy with chores or doctor’s appointments. Busy with keeping up with the Joneses or keeping up with the world.

And, of course, not all of the spring shuffle is bad. I can certainly relate to the satisfaction that comes at the end of a full day. But there is a difference between work and toil, between God-ordained service and stewardship, and sin-distorted labor and drudgery. The challenge is determining which is which – even in the church. Because congregations are not immune to busyness. If anything, we pride ourselves on bustling gatherings and packed calendars just like any other organization, only we do it in the name of Jesus.

Thankfully, we have a Lord who is patient with us, a God who walks at three miles per hour. When we’re prone to hurry our way through things, I imagine he says, “Slow down and take your time.” When we fuss and stress over our many duties and obligations, I picture him smiling and saying, “Look at the birds of the air and the flowers of the field.” When we worry that we’re not relevant or successful enough, I wonder if he simply says, “Remain in my love.” Take some time this month to think about what the Lord might be saying to you.

One of the best books I’ve read on this topic is John Mark Comer’s The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry. We have a copy in our church library, if you’d like to take a look. In page after page, Comer makes the case for a less hurried and more mindful, thoughtful, and prayerful life, and he offers many helpful steps for putting this into practice. Here is one of my favorite lines: “The solution to an overbusy life is not more time. It’s to slow down and simplify our lives around what really matters.” And what really matters? Perhaps our congregation’s mission statement says it best: loving Jesus, loving his curch, and loving our neighbors as ourselves. Can we slow down and simplify ourselves around that?

Yours in Christ,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

Dear church family,

Advent is upon us! This is one of my favorite times of the year, and for good reason. While the world around us focuses on the commercial and sentimental aspects of the season (and we do, too), the church makes space for something deeper, richer, and more important: the remembrance of Jesus’ first coming and the watching and waiting for his coming again. Advent, therefore, begins in the dark and moves towards the light. But, as the preacher and writer Fleming Rutledge reminds us, we “should not move too quickly or too glibly, lest we fail to acknowledge the depth of the darkness.”

For some people, this might sound a bit glum or depressing. “Acknowledge the depth of the darkness? Where’s the Christmas cheer?!” How easily we forget that Jesus was born to a world of conflict. The people of Israel were scattered and living under the thumb of the Romans. Hunger, sickness, injustice, and spiritual confusion were the norm. Those old enemies of sin, death, and the devil ran rampant. And still, he came.

Are we much different today? While we live on the far side of the manger, cross, and empty tomb, we still groan under the weight of discord and division. Don’t take my word for it; just scan today’s headlines. As I write this, I am seeing reports of a shooting in Colorado Springs. There is continued fighting in Ukraine. Many are worried about the spread of RSV, Influenza, and Covid. The list goes on. It seems we know something about sin, death, and the devil, too. And still – Jesus comes to us by his Spirit, and he promises to come again. This is grace.

My invitation for you this Advent is this: name the darkness in the world and in your heart, and turn your face towards the light yet again. Start with showing up on Sunday mornings – come to sing and pray, to listen and learn, to give and receive in the presence of God and others. Then start showing up during the week – come to Family Night Supper, our Christmas Music Program, and Worship on the Longest Night. Find someone to read our Advent devotional with you. Sign up to serve in the community. Or simply make space for silence in a busy season. Watch and wait for Jesus because, as John’s Gospel reminds us, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” Thanks be to God!

With you in Christ,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

Dear church family and friends,

There’s no such thing as a perfect church.  There, I said it! 

No matter how much a group of Christians love God, one another, and their neighbors as themselves, they will still fall short.  We will still fall short.  Yet the sooner we can recognize this fact, the sooner we can throw ourselves upon the grace and goodness of God.  I think this is what our Pastor Emeritus, Bill Serjak, meant when he would begin worship services with words that went something like this: “We welcome you to a community of sinners.  If you look around you, you will find fault with everyone, especially the pastor, since he is most visible.  But our job is not to point you to ourselves, but to Jesus Christ, with whom man has yet to find fault.” 

(And all God’s people said “amen.”)

We will soon see this truth in Scripture on Sunday mornings as we turn from studying Acts 2 to the New Testament book of First Corinthians.  If Acts 2 gives us a picture of the church on fire in the best possible way – as God’s people, filled with the Spirit, lead thousands to faith in Jesus Christ – then First Corinthians gives us a picture of the church on fire in the worst possible way – as God’s people, ignoring the Spirit, fight and divide among themselves.  In response to this, the apostle Paul writes to set those Christians in Corinth straight not by pointing to himself, nor to others in their midst – but by pointing to Jesus, whose mercy meets them in abundance.

I want to invite you to read First Corinthians along with me and our church family for the next few months.  Read it and find empathy in the foibles and frustrations of these early Christians.  See what Paul says about the Holy Spirit, who is at work in the midst of (or, often, in spite of) the community called “church.”  And together, let’s keep walking the dusty road of discipleship, confident that the one who is the Way still leads the way in Sylva, Jackson County, the United States, and even to the ends of the earth.

See you Sunday,
Blake

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Join us for worship on Sundays as we give praise to God, study Scripture and learn about its relevance for our lives, and go deeper in life together. In-person services take place in the sanctuary at 11:00am. We are live-streaming for those who prefer to worship from home via our YouTube page.

Sunday Scriptures for July:

• 7/03 – Acts 2:42-47

• 7/10 – 1 Corinthians 1:1-17

• 7/17 – 1 Corinthians 1:18-31

• 7/24 – 1 Corinthians 2:1-16

• 7/31 – 1 Corinthians 3:1-11

Pastor's Letter

Dear church family,

June is here, and summer is nearly upon us. For some of you, this means school is out and you’ll have more time with your kids or grandkids. Others will enjoy trips to the beach or lake. Still others will find themselves complaining about how muggy and buggy it’s become! Regardless of what this season means to you, I’m sure you agree with me that summer brings with it a certain kind of spirit.

Spirit. It’s an interesting word, isn’t it? We often use it in various ways, whether to describe the energy level at a baseball game or the mood of a particular person or moment. It’s like a thermometer or barometer this way, measuring particular human output or emotion in a given situation. But Scripture has a different idea. In a biblical sense, the word is almost always used as a proper noun – as Spirit, with a capital “S” – to refer not to humanity, but to God. Indeed, the Holy Spirit is the very presence of God and the third person of the Trinity, who is intimately connected to our human experience while also remaining distinct from it.

Think of Genesis 1: “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth… and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” Or Matthew 3: “As soon as Jesus was baptized, he went up out of the water… and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.” Or Galatians 4: “God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, ‘Abba, Father.’ So you are no longer a slave, but God’s child; and since you are his child, God has made you also an heir.” In all these references, the Spirit is not a product of human experience, but a gift of God – indeed, the gift of God himself.

You might know where I am going with this. The first Sunday in June is Pentecost Sunday, during which the church celebrates the Spirit’s descent upon the apostles and other disciples gathered together in Jerusalem (see Acts 2). It’s a story of great power, healing, unity, and direction, setting the stage for God’s work through the church for centuries to come. To reflect on this we will be studying Acts 2 on Sunday mornings through the month of June, moving from the Spirit, to Peter’s sermon, to the earliest Spirit-filled community of Christians.

I believe we need a reminder of the Holy Spirit’s presence with us especially now, given all that’s transpired in recent months. Our country has yet again been reeling from mass shootings in Buffalo, California, and Texas. Stories of sexual abuse have erupted in the Southern Baptist Convention. The war in Ukraine rages on. And we are moving through a mid-term election season, revealing more and more division in our country. What hope do we have as we live through these struggles, to say nothing of the struggles in our own families and hearts? The answer is the Spirit, who unites us to Christ so that we are never alone.

As Jesus himself said at the end of John 16: “Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you… In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Happy Summer,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

March was a month of patience for my family.

First of all, this is because we’ve had a house full of literal patients. First, it was me and my sons. All of us tested positive for COVID in early March and were quarantined for a whole week (thankfully, with mild symptoms). Then, it was my wife and my sons. They tested positive for the flu in late March and were quarantined for another whole week (unfortunately, with fairly serious symptoms). As I write this we are all on the mend, thanks be to God. But it was a difficult month of being patients and learning patience.

In the midst of this, we have also tried to practice Sabbath during the season of Lent. Sabbath, you likely know, is a day of rest that honors the Lord. While we have dipped our toes in the waters of Sabbath over the years, my family and I have never made a formal Sabbath commitment. But we felt God leading us to do so this year for the 40 days of Lent. So, starting March 4, we have been “shutting down” on Friday nights for a solid 24 hours. We cycle laundry, go to the dump, pre-cook meals, clean the house, and remove notifications from our phones and other devices by 5pm on Friday so we can simply enjoy family time until 5pm on Saturday. We try not to be legalistic about it – after all, Jesus tells us that “the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” – so if we have to throw a load in the wash or run an errand, we do so. But by and large, we try and spend that time in rest, play, and worship together. Which, yes, also requires patience.

The root of the word “patience” is “suffering.” And the root of the word “suffer” is “endure” or “bear.” To have patience, then, is to endure or to bear hardship as it comes, in whatever form. Such hardship could be as denying yourself email or TV for a day. It could be something larger, like the sickness of children. Or it could be something even more dire than that – things we shudder to name and that impact entire communities, as we have experienced recently in Sylva. We learn patience when we move through such times with the twofold recognition that we can’t do it on our own, and thus that we are wholly dependent on God’s grace. Indeed, patience is a fruit of the Spirit for this very reason.

The good news of Lent is that our patience leads us somewhere – to Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the cross, and, beyond that, to the beauty of the empty tomb and the victory of Easter. Our suffering and endurance opens us up to the good news of Jesus. This is why the early Christians talked about Sabbath as the “eighth day,” a day signaling that God’s new creation has now begun in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. And it’s why one of those early Christians, Paul the Apostle, was able to pen those triumphant words: “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

I hope you will join us in worship and life together this April as we continue to make our way down the dusty road of discipleship. In these difficult days, let’s pray for the Spirit to grow patience in us, let’s look out for each other, and let’s remain confident that the risen Lord Christ leads the way.

See you Sunday,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

“Who do you say I am?”

This is Jesus’ question to his disciples in the gospels, and it is his question to us as well.  He doesn’t ask us who scholars or skeptics or saints say he is; he asks us who we say he is, guided by Scripture. 

We might say that Jesus wants to make things personal.  Not private, but personal.  He wants to spark conviction in our hearts, by the Holy Spirit, so we can turn from our sin, call him our Lord, and follow him on the dusty road of discipleship for the renewal and restoration of the world. 

I once heard the Scottish professor and writer, Andrew Purves, put it this way: “The great theological question,” he said, “is essentially a who question: not ‘how did you do that?’ or ‘what did you do?’ or ‘can I do what you did?’ The essential question is, ‘Who are you, Lord?’”

I don’t know about you, but this “who question” has become more important to me during the past two years, both in terms of Jesus and in terms of his body, the church. 

Living through a pandemic has made me depend on Jesus more than ever – as all my idols have been interrogated and so many of my comforts have been stripped away.  Who is the one who loves us without fail, who will never let us down, and who promises to give us hope and a future?  It’s Jesus, Emmanuel, our Savior. 

At the same time, living through a pandemic has made me realize the importance of community – as Zoom meetings, quarantine, and endless TV and Internet commentary have revealed the primordial truth that “it is not good for man to be alone.”  Who are the people that Jesus has given me to share the journey?  It’s you.  The people of First Presbyterian Church, living as the body of Christ and an outpost of God’s Kingdom. 

I know I sound like an owl or maybe like Dr. Seuss, but the “whos” make all the difference – the “who” of Jesus, and the “who” of you.  Because when they come together, we get the cruciform (cross-shaped) witness of the church, a witness that this wounded and weary world so desperately needs. 

Take a deep breath and consider how you can enter into February with Jesus and with others, too.  Can you spend some time reading Matthew this month?  Could you come to Sunday School and worship on Sunday mornings?  Why not give me a call or send me an email so we can get together and catch up?  The Christian life is always personal, but never private.  Let’s keep walking the path together, trusting the Lord to lead the way.

Yours in Christ,
Blake

Image: Owls in Flight by Victoria Lakes

Pastor’s letter

Dear church family and friends,

As I write this, we are still in the Christmas season, celebrating Jesus’ birth for twelve days. On January 6 we will move into the season of Epiphany, remembering Jesus’ appearance to the Magi and the Gentiles (non-Jews). And what is the proper response to both these seasons? Joy.

I like the way Henri Nouwen talks about joy in his book Following Jesus:

“Joy is that ongoing movement out of the places of death, out of the places where things remain the same and are not moving. Everything in life changes… It is very important for us to realize that joy is precisely that leaping toward life and move away from the places that are the same. Joy is always about an experience of life as new.”

I don’t know about you, but I need to hear this word right now as we turn our calendars to 2022. Because, if I’m honest, my knee-jerk reaction to another year is not very optimistic. Covid is still with us. Cultural and political turmoil persists. It’s easy for me to shrug my shoulders and say, “here we go again.” Yet Henri Nouwen invites me into something different: the way of Jesus. This way leads not to fear or resignation, but to surprising joy. This is the joy of the Messiah, the Lord, who has come to turn things around, to usher in his Kingdom, and to give us hope and a future.

How do we experience this joy? We take time to celebrate each and every day. Not flippantly, but graciously, being mindful of the grace and giftedness at the heart of life. Again, Nouwen says this:

“Celebrating life is not a party, but an ongoing awareness that every moment is special and asks to be lifted up and recognized as a blessing from on high. Jesus rewards us with joy. Not only later, but now. Not only in happy moments but also in our sorrow. Joy is hidden in our suffering and revealed in our communal life.”

He’s exactly right. We need to celebrate, even amidst continued uncertainty, because that’s what followers of Jesus do, in season and out of season. And that’s how we see the Spirit at work in us to cultivate joy, one day at a time.

So, led by that same Spirit, I want to celebrate some things with you:

• Our staff, who have served our church in such faithful and creative ways. As I wrote last year, there is no playbook for leading ministry in a pandemic, and I have been proud of the ways they have handled the many curveballs thrown their way.

• Our elders and deacons, who have made hard decisions and cared for our congregation (and so many others) during trying times.

• The members and friends of First Presbyterian Church, 80 years running. You have joined in study, worship, and fellowship while staying flexible. You have given financially to our operating budget and Cornerstone Campaign. You have pulled together in happy moments and in sorrow. Keep persevering, friends; it’s worth it (see Romans 5:3-5).

• God – the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – for his unending love and amazing grace. Indeed, “you have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you.”

Yours in Christmas, New Year’s, and Epiphany joy,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

Dear church family,

I’m sure you’ve heard this prayer before.  It might be hanging on your wall, refrigerator, or keychain.  You might repeat it as a breath prayer to stay focused and grounded.  It’s known as the Serenity Prayer.  It was written by the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr in the 1930s and has since been popularized by Alcoholics Anonymous and other recovery groups, for very good reason.  It’s a pithy and powerful reminder of both our human limitations and our human responsibility.  And the hinge on which those characteristics turn is what we call wisdom.

Wisdom.  Like so many words, this is one we toss around without much consideration.  What does it really mean?  One of my seminary professors, Ellen Davis, defines wisdom as “living in the world in such a way that God, and God’s intentions for the world, are acknowledged in all that we do.”  I like that.  It reminds us that wisdom is grounded in God and God’s good purposes for all that he has made.  In this light, Davis asks, “how many people do you know whom you would describe as wise?”  If we’re honest, the answer might be less than we think.

Yet wisdom is not unattainable.  Nor is it only reserved for the super-spiritual.  Rather, it is something God calls all of us to cultivate as we follow him and grow in grace.  “If any of you lacks wisdom,” the book of James says, “you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.”  The prime example of this is the book of Proverbs.  In contrast to other books of the Bible, Proverbs is not a narrative or a letter but a list of sayings that reorient the reader (or hearer) to God and his way of wisdom.  It’s a book to be read slowly and deliberately, the way a cow chews its cud. 

For these reasons, I will be starting a new sermon series on Proverbs on October 10.  We won’t cover it all, but we will hit the high notes.  As we do, I will be praying that God would grant us wisdom – wisdom that helps us understand what we can change and what we can’t; wisdom that helps us make decisions, even when we’re all feeling decision fatigue; wisdom that helps us discern the truth amid so many mistruths and half-truths; wisdom that leads us to love the Lord and to love our neighbors, in Jesus’ name.  This wisdom is needed today as much as ever, friends.  I hope you’ll join us in this fall season as we seek the way of wisdom together.

See you Sunday,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

“And so, it is those we live with and should know who elude us.  But we can still love them.  We can love completely without complete understanding.”
– Rev. Maclean, A River Runs Through It

Dear church family,

One of my favorite books is Norman Maclean’s A River Runs Through It.  I am the father of sons and a Presbyterian pastor living in the mountains, so this shouldn’t surprise you, as Maclean’s story takes place in a very similar relational and geographical setting.  Towards the end of the book (and the film based on it), Norman’s father, the Rev. Maclean, delivers a sermon in which he reflects on a struggle within his family.  In it he shares those potent words in the quotation above.

Let those sentences wash over you, especially the last one: “We can love completely without complete understanding.”  The Rev. Maclean said this in regards to his son, Paul, who struggled with gambling and alcoholism and died too young.  As a father, what could he have done?  What’s within his control?  The Pastor is racked with confusion.  Yet in the face of uncertainty, he learned to love.

This is my hope for myself, you, and our church family today: that we would learn to love, and love completely — even without complete understanding. 

It’s no secret that these are difficult days and we’re all stretched thin.  Other people, even those we live with and know, will elude us.  They will rub us the wrong way.  They will do things we do not agree with or that we do not understand.  Heck, I, as your pastor, will do things you do not agree with or understand.  What can we do?  What are we in control of?  We can love completely, even without complete understanding. 

Notice, this doesn’t mean we should turn off our brains.  This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t engage in healthy arguments when the time is right.  This certainly doesn’t mean we should say yes to blatant evil or sin.  I am not saying any of these things.  But I am saying we can grow in love – love that flows from the heart of God revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  And we can let this love be the guide, the rule, the plumb line that keeps everything else in check.

Consider what the Apostle Paul wrote in his letter to the Colossians: “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.  Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone.  Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

This is the spirit behind our upcoming book study.  Starting September 8, we will be reading A Gentle Answer: Our “Secret Weapon” In an Age of Us Against Them by Scott Sauls on Wednesday nights.  Join us.  Even if you can’t make it, I encourage you to get the book and read along from afar.  Sauls does a wonderful job of naming the challenges of our present age with humor and hope.  You may not agree with everything he says.  You may not understand everything he says.  But I hope you will see how he points us to Jesus, the only one who truly loves completely – and in whom we can learn to love as well.

See you Sunday,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

“This is the way.”

So says the titular character in The Mandalorian, a hugely successful TV show (and current favorite of the Daniel family) now streaming on Disney+.  The Mandalorian is a bounty hunter who abides by an ancient belief system called the “Way of the Mandalore,” which requires him, among other things, to keep his helmet on whenever he’s in the presence of other people.  So, throughout the show, characters will ask him to remove his helmet and he refuses, saying: “This is the way.”

I wonder if we Christians can learn something from this sci-fi hero – not so much about helmets (although, perhaps, mask-wearing?), but about faithfulness and discipleship.  Like the Mandalorian, we have a way to follow through life.  Except our way is not an ancient belief system, but a person who is himself the Way.  Remember what Jesus told his disciples in John 14?  “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  Remember what Jesus said to the fishermen in Mark 1?  “Come, follow me.”  These verses remind us that if we want to know the way, we should start by knowing Jesus – and then we should follow as he leads us. 

My hope for myself, you, and our congregation is that we might walk in the way of Christ in every aspect of our lives.  These are disorienting times, and it’s easy for us to lose our way.  We Christians, like everyone else, have not been at our best lately. As the world has changed around us, we’ve struggled to find our footing.  Yet God is good, his grace is sufficient, and he invites us again and again back to the way of Christ.  We know from Mark’s Gospel that this is a way of baptism, calling, friendship, mission, and compassion.  As Lent begins, we will see that it’s also a way of cross-bearing, simplicity, service, and self-giving love.  None of this is easy, but it’s so, so worth it.  This is the way.

Yours in Christ,
Blake

Pastor's Letter

“Ready or not, here I come!”

How many of us used to say this when we played hide-and-seek as kids?  How many of our children or grandchildren still say this?  I know my boys do as they play in our yard, with two of them hiding behind bushes while the third one is “it.” 

I like to imagine Jesus saying the same thing before that first Christmas so many years ago.  The weary world had heard Isaiah’s call to preparation: “Prepare the way for the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.”  They had heard John the Baptist say the same thing on the banks of the Jordan River.  Then the Lord came in a way no one expected. 

I love the way Sally Lloyd-Jones puts it in The Jesus Storybook Bible:

“God was coming to help his people, just as he promised in the beginning.  But how would come?  What would he do?  What would he be like?  The earth held its breath.  As silent as snow falling, he came in.  And when no one was looking, in the darkness, he came.”

Ready or not, the long-awaited Messiah was born.  Jesus grew into a man who healed the sick, confronted the arrogant, and revealed the Kingdom.  He went to the cross to atone for our sins.  He rose from the grave to claim victory over death.  And now he reigns in heaven and promises to come again to make all things new.  

When you think about it, this teaches us a profound theological and spiritual truth regarding who’s really in charge.  God doesn’t wait upon us in order to act; he invites us to wait upon him.  God doesn’t look to us to set the world’s agenda; we look to him.  I think about it in terms of family dinner at the Daniel household: Erin and I prepare food and set the table each night, and we invite our boys to come and enjoy it.  In this, they learn how to be truly ready.  It’s not about control.  It’s about receptivity. 

And this is a lesson we’ve been learning all year long, isn’t it?  In this year of uncertainty, God has been teaching us a daily dependence on his grace.  It’s a lesson that we especially need to remember during Advent.  God invites us to be ready.  Not in a frantic and fretful way, trying to earn his blessing or his salvation – that’s already been given!  But in a curious, childlike way.  Such readiness looks like worship and daily attentiveness to the Word of God through prayer and Scripture reading.  It looks like service to our family members, friends, neighbors, and even our enemies.  It looks like reflecting on the four themes of our Advent wreath – hope, peace, joy, and love – and making them a part of our daily lives. 

Let’s live ready, not busy, friends – waiting in eager expectation for the Lord who is sure to surprise us.

Yours,
Blake 

Pastor's Letter

Lately I have been reflecting on the earliest creed in the Christian faith.  It’s just three simple words:

“Jesus is Lord.”

I’m sure you’ve heard this creed before.  It has been the cry of Christ’s disciples from the first century to today.  But what does it mean?

First of all, it’s a theological claim.  When we confess Jesus as our Lord, we are saying that he is God.  He's not sort-of-God or less-than-God.  He is, as the Nicene Creed tells us, “the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God.”  So, this is a claim about God the Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, revealed to us in the person of Jesus Christ, our Lord.  We may not fully understand this claim but, as Christians, we believe it, profess it to be true, and depend upon it for our salvation.

As the same time, to call Jesus our Lord is say something political.  The first Christians were members of the Roman Empire, which required all its citizens to affirm that Caesar was Lord.  But those Christians wouldn’t do that, because to call Jesus “Lord” is to say that no one and nothing else is – not Caesar, not any other ruler, not a political party, not a popular ideology, not the Self.  Only Jesus.  Claiming this certainly put those Christians at odds with the status quo, but it also led them to bear faithful witness to a different way of life, the Kingdom of God.  And as Christ’s disciples today, we must do the same by understanding our lives, including our political life, in terms of Christ our Lord and not the other way around.

Why do I bring all this up? 

Because this creed is good news that rings out from the cross and empty tomb and we need to remember it today, in the year of our Lord, 2020.

As we turn the calendar into November and experience the most contentious election season in recent memory, we remember: Jesus is Lord.

As we continue to wear our masks, wash our hands, practice social distancing, and combat the coronavirus, we remember: Jesus is Lord.

As we try new things with Sunday worship, Zoom calls, and our life together, we remember: Jesus is Lord.

As we offer a response to racial injustices, social unrest, and the ongoing need for reconciliation, we remember: Jesus is Lord.

As we seek to fulfill our mission as a congregation to make disciples who love Jesus, the church, and their neighbors as themselves, we remember: Jesus is Lord.

To help us remember this, I will be preaching a short sermon series on this creed through the month of November.  This series will culminate with Christ the King Sunday, which will lead us right into Advent.  We have made our way through the Psalms of Lament on Sunday mornings; now let’s look to the Lordship of Jesus, and find our hope in him.

With you on the dusty road of discipleship,
Blake