Spending most of my childhood in the 90s meant the popular shows of the early 70s were being rerun for parents. So while they were before my time, I did watch The Partridge Family and Little House on the Prairie. M*A*S*H continues to be one of my all-time favorites. And yes, I watched America’s favorite blended family, The Brady Bunch. You know, “the story of a lovely lady, who was bringing up three very lovely girls.” Now that I’ve successfully got the theme song stuck in your head, I’ll quickly remind you of the show’s premise: a man with three sons marries a woman with three daughters, forming a family of eight. They, along with Alice the snarky housekeeper, navigate what it means to bring two families together and face the challenges of growing up. 
    To be fair, blending issues only seem to be a major theme in the first season. The remaining four seasons hardly touch on the unique circumstances of their family. The show, though revolutionary for its time, avoided the harder, more challenging aspects of bringing two families together, painting an idealized image of what a blended family can be. As Carol once said to Bobby, “Listen, the only steps in this house are those, the ones that lead up to your bedroom” (*Every Boy Does It Once,* S1, E10).
    As we come closer to the yoking of our Springfield family with Eastwood, I’ve thought more about the reality of blending communities. It’s easy to idealize this adventure, picturing everything going as smoothly as the Bradys. But blending congregations takes more than just a hopeful spirit; it takes intentional work, patience, and grace. Each group brings its own traditions, expectations, and quirks—ham or lamb at Christmas, vacation at the mountains or the beach, how to load the dishwasher, and so on. Though we can’t avoid conflict entirely, we can plan how we will respond to it. (I will note that I, like many of you, am very excited and happy for new adventure, but let us not let excitement cloud possible realities.)
    In facing inevitable bumps in the road, we have three approaches to choose from: ignore, treat, or seek help. Not every issue requires the same level of response. We don’t take a paper cut to the ER, and we don’t ignore a nail stuck in our foot. It’s the same with any issues that arise in our yoking process. First, we ask ourselves if the issue needs attention—something minor that can be discussed with a friend, the pastor, or simply let go. For larger concerns, there are additional denominational resources to help. The important thing is that we treat issues intentionally, rather than allowing them to fester into something harmful. We must not let a small cut become a great chasm.
    How can we celebrate the God of Love and Unity if we harbor anger toward a brother or sister? How can we form a new body in Christ if we keep one another at a distance? We must approach each other with openness and honesty, offering trust to those we don’t yet know and stepping into this new venture with courage. As Peter wrote to the Christians of Asia Minor, “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling” (1 Peter 4:7-8). After all, this isn’t the union of strangers but of brothers and sisters of the same faith.
    As Colossians 3:17 reminds us, “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” By inviting the Spirit into every part of this journey—our discussions, fellowship, and worship—we’re committing to blend not only our traditions but our hearts, grounded in love and gratitude. Just as the Bradys had to learn to love, forgive, and work as one, so can we. Let’s step into this season with hope, trusting that our joined communities will flourish as one faithful family, united and strengthened by God’s grace.

​Illustrations by Mitch Miller. © 2020 Brethren Press. Used and modified by permission. 

     Many of our holidays have both pagan and Christian roots. Christmas and Easter mix ancient symbols like eggs and holly with the Nativity and the empty tomb. Some Christians are turned off by this blend, though many can separate the pagan traditions from modern celebrations. We understand ancient symbols doesn’t mean we ascribe to those beliefs. After all, our halls of justice and government bear Roman and Greek deities, we knock on wood to invoke Celtic spirits for luck, and we cross our fingers—a gesture that originated in pagan traditions to ward off evil or bring good fortune. Yet, none of us see these as returns to paganism. These remnants of ancient cultures have become part of our everyday expressions, often without much thought to their origins. As Christians, we are called to focus on the deeper meaning of our faith and traditions, knowing that while these symbols may have varied histories, they do not diminish the truth of Christ’s message of hope, salvation, and love.
     However, there is one holiday that seems to stubbornly sit in the liminal space between acceptable and objectionable: Halloween. Like Christmas and Easter, it has roots in pagan celebrations, notably Samhain, a Celtic festival marking the end of the harvest, the beginning of winter, and a time to honor the dead. Alongside this are the traditional Western Christian observances of All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day, which honor the saints and all those who have passed. Some Christians have outright rejected Halloween, uncomfortable with the blending of the macabre and sacred, viewing it as an endorsement of darker, more sinister forces.
     Yet, others have found ways to embrace the holiday. For example, our brothers and sisters in Mexico have turned Día de los Muertos, which coincides with Halloween, into a vibrant celebration of life and remembrance. They blend the sacred and the festive, honoring those who have passed in a way that highlights the hope of resurrection and the continuity of life through faith. Many Christians find themselves in the liminal space, eager to participate in the fun, nostalgia, and lighthearted mystery of the season without endorsing the darker or more unsettling aspects.
     This tension can be challenging. But just as with Christmas and Easter, we can approach Halloween by focusing on the redemptive and joyful aspects while being discerning about what we participate in. If you can, keep your light on for Trick-or-Treat and meet with your neighbors, creating a night to remember positively for the little ones. Being a hospitable neighbor is one of the most basic rules in the Bible (ask Abraham!). Display pictures of those who have entered God’s land, cook that special meal Mom always made, or sing that song your spouse in heaven loved. The passing of loved ones is hard, even when we know where they are now. Take time to both mourn and celebrate, sharing their stories with younger generations so their memories will live on. Consider starting a family tradition of making Halloween-themed crafts or treats that reflect themes of light and hope. For example, you could carve pumpkins with encouraging messages or create decorations that highlight the beauty of fall. Not only will you fill your home with autumn’s beauty, but you will also spend meaningful time together.
     ​May your Halloween season be filled with joy and light, treats, and (fun) tricks. As we enter the darker season, remember that the pain of death and loss is not without redemption and is not permanent. Just as spring follows winter, life comes after the tomb. May you find ways to honor both the sacred and the lighthearted; even in liminal spaces, God’s love and grace can shine through.

Our Old Testament ends with the Books of the Prophets: the four Major Prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel) and the twelve Minor Prophets. Now, the Minor Prophets are not called "minor" because they are less important; rather, their writings are simply shorter and more concise. These prophets were laser-focused on delivering their messages with urgency and clarity. As Kevin Malone from *The Office* famously said, “Why waste time say lot word when few word do trick.”
The Minor Prophets represent some of the most profound and impactful work in the Bible, easily some of the best “Prophet-ing". They observed how the people had strayed from God, identified the root causes of this spiritual decline, and issued stark warnings about the consequences if the people failed to repent and return to the Lord. Yet, their messages didn’t stop at condemnation. They also offered solutions and hope, reminding the faithful that God would one day make all things right. Through powerful metaphors and vivid symbolism, these prophets conveyed truths that resonates deeply an audience that spans millennia.
Hosea, the first of the group, who uses the metaphor of marriage to illustrate Israel's relationship with God. Hosea’s message was clear: just as a spouse would be devastated by infidelity, so too is God grieved by Israel's unfaithfulness. Yet, in a remarkable display of grace, God offers forgiveness and a chance to renew the covenant, illustrating the Lord’s steadfast love despite our failures.
Joel spoke of a devastating locust plague as a symbol of God's impending judgment. But Joel also called the people to repentance, assuring them that if they returned to God, they would experience His mercy and restoration. He promises that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” (Joel 2:32)
Amos, the shepherd-turned-prophet, focused on social justice. He condemned the exploitation of the poor and the corruption within the judicial system, calling the people to “let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream” (Amos 5:24). His message was a stark reminder that true worship of God is inseparable from justice, righteousness, and a moral life.
Obadiah, the shortest book in the Old Testament, addressed the nation of Edom, who had rejoiced over the downfall of Israel. He warned them that their pride and cruelty would lead to their own destruction. Obadiah’s prophecy serves as a warning against gloating over others’ misfortunes, a reminder of the consequences of pride.
Then there’s Jonah, perhaps the most well-known of the Minor Prophets, but also the most unique in the section. A story to teach us about God's boundless mercy. Despite Jonah’s reluctance, God sends him to the city of Nineveh to call them to repentance. When they do repent, Jonah is angered by God’s mercy, revealing a profound lesson: God's compassion extends to all people, even those we might deem undeserving.
Each of these Minor Prophets had a specific message for their time, but their words continue to speak to us today. Their warnings, calls to repeance, and promises of redemption are timeless, addressing issues that remain relevant today.
In our fast-paced society, where attention spans are short and distractions are many, the messages of the Minor Prophets are more crucial than ever. They call out that despite our unfaithfulness, God remains faithful. They challenge us to examine the idols in our lives, whether they be wealth, power, or comfort, and to return wholeheartedly to God.
The Minor Prophets may have written less, but their impact is profound. Their concise, powerful messages cut through the noise, offering us both a warning and a promise: that if we turn back to God, He is ready to forgive and restore. So, as we dive into these often-overlooked books of the Bible over coming months, let’s not see them as “minor” at all, but as major voices that continue to call us to faithfulness, justice, and hope.

           There are many fathers in the Bible, but very few moments of fatherhood. David has many kids, though he allows his family to fall into disarray and fratricide (2 Sam. 13-18). Abraham almost sacrifices Isaac (Gen. 22:1-19) and abandons Ishmael (Gen. 21:8-21). Joseph is a protective father to Jesus, but he prematurely disappears (Mat. 1:18-25; Luke 2:41-52). But there is one father who appears as a fairly regular presence over a long period and overall is a good dad: Laban.
           In case you forgot about him, Laban is the brother of Rebekah, who married Isaac (Gen. 24:29). He is the father of Leah and Rachel (Gen. 29:16). Now, he isn’t an upstanding person for most of the story. He tricks Jacob into marrying Leah after promising Rachel and forces him to work an extra seven years, 14 in total (Gen. 29:25-30). He attempts to keep Jacob and his family close to profit from them (Gen. 30:27). When they do flee, he chases them down and is kept from doing something violent thanks to God’s intervention (Gen. 31:22-24).
           But let’s turn the story around and see things from Laban’s side. He invites in his nephew, who is on the run from an abusive situation at home (Gen. 27:41-45). When he learns that Jacob is in love with his daughter, he sets forth a task to test Jacob’s resolve and work ethic. After all, he doesn’t really know anything about this young man (Gen. 29:15-20). When Jacob passes the test with flying colors, Laban decides to trick him into marrying Leah. Perhaps he saw Jacob’s success and knew he would be a good caretaker for both daughters and that keeping him close would be helpful to the entire tribe (Gen. 29:21-28). When Jacob wants to return to his parents, Laban attempts to set a fair price for Jacob’s work that will keep him around for some time yet, giving Laban more time with his daughters and grandchildren (Gen. 30:25-34). 
           He doesn’t become upset until Jacob tricks him in the payment of his wages and then runs away with his family and Laban’s gods (Gen. 31:1-21). (Jacob didn’t know Rachel stole the gods.) Laban chases them in anger for a week until God warns him not to resort to violence (Gen. 31:22-24). Still angry, Laban confronts Jacob. After a series of conversations and his failure to find the gods (Rachel was tricky too), Laban and Jacob come to an understanding (Gen. 31:25-55). Laban promises to let them go in peace and respect boundaries, and Jacob promises to be a good and protective husband and father. Laban then kisses his daughters and grandchildren and departs (Gen. 31:55).
           ​Is Laban perfect? By no means! He is controlling, making decisions based on his own needs and wants, and doesn’t take into consideration others’ opinions. He is untrustworthy and untrusting (those two often go together) and is frightening enough that Jacob feels he needs to flee while Laban is away from camp (Gen. 31:20). However, he is also a good dad who is looking out for the best for his whole family, not favoring one child over another. He has his eye on the future and wants to ensure that his loved ones are cared for even when he can’t. He loves his daughters and his grandchildren and wants the best for them, even if it hurts him. And he gave a down-on-his-luck kid a chance to thrive.
           Fatherhood is complicated and messy. Dads sometimes make the wrong decisions out of good intentions and acceptable concerns. Laban is a good example of what can go right and wrong. Dads need to learn to balance their instinct to protect with their children’s need to grow. They must not only be approachable when it comes to difficult matters but extend that trust to others. And when that day comes when their children fall in love and leave the nest, they can be present as a friend, advisor, and dad as needed, and a watcher from a distance at other times.
           ​A Happy Father’s Day to all dads. May you walk well in the messiness that is fatherhood and be the best dad you can be.

​Tabitha, also known as Dorcas, is a remarkable figure in the Book of Acts (Acts 9:36-43), despite her brief mention in the Bible. Resurrection is indeed rare in biblical accounts, with only a handful of individuals explicitly named. Among them are the children: the widow of Zarephath's son, the Shunammite woman's son, the widow of Nain's son, and Jairus' daughter, all instances born from a parent's profound desire for their child's return. Lazarus, raised by Jesus in John 11, holds a unique position as a friend of Christ. Eutychus, revived by Paul in Acts 20:7-12 after a fateful fall, showcases Paul's compassion even in unintended circumstances. The accidental resurrection of a man upon touching Elisha's bones (2 Kings 13:20-21) stands as an exceptional event, attributed to Elisha's lingering spiritual influence. The enigmatic mention of saints raised in Jerusalem (Matthew 27:50-53) upon Jesus's death adds layers to the miraculous fabric of Scripture. Of course, Jesus's own resurrection remains the pivotal and unparalleled event in Christian theology.

Tabitha's resurrection stands out amidst these accounts. She lacked a prominent advocate, had no personal connection with Peter, and her revival wasn't tied to extraordinary events or a prolonged sermon. Tabitha's return to life was a direct result of her esteemed status within her church community.

What made Tabitha so beloved? While her background remains largely unknown, her actions spoke volumes. Described as "always doing good and helping the poor," Tabitha's legacy was one of active service and kindness. The widows, recipients of her generosity, displayed the garments she had crafted, a testament to her hands-on approach in aiding her fellow believers. Her death profoundly impacted the Joppa community, prompting them to seek Peter's intervention.

The story of Tabitha's resurrection unfolds in Acts 9:36-43. In Joppa (Joffa), a woman named Tabitha, was devoted to good works and acts of charity. She was known for making garments for the widows in the community, providing them with not just warmth but also a sense of dignity and care. Her life exemplified the Christian virtues of compassion, generosity, and service to others.

Tragically, Tabitha fell ill and died, leaving behind a grieving community and many widows who had benefited from her kindness. They sent for Peter, urging him to come quickly.
Upon Peter's arrival, the room was filled with mourners, especially the widows whom Tabitha had cared for so diligently. They showed Peter the garments and tunics that Tabitha had made for them, a tangible expression of her love and compassion.

In the midst of this sorrowful scene, Peter knelt down and prayed. Then, turning to Tabitha's lifeless body, he said, "Tabitha, arise." Miraculously, Tabitha opened her eyes, sat up, and Peter presented her alive to the astonished crowd.

This miraculous event had a profound impact on the community. Many believed in the Lord as a result of Tabitha's resurrection, and Peter stayed in Joppa for some time, continuing to minister to the believers there.

Tabitha's resurrection isn't a promise for all good-hearted individuals to expect a miraculous return before the End of Days. However, her story offers timeless lessons. Firstly, she embodies Christian service and love in action, emphasizing the significance of using one's talents for others' benefit. Secondly, her revival symbolizes the hope of new life in Christ, showcasing God's transformative grace and the promise of resurrection for believers.

Tabitha's narrative challenges us to embrace compassion, generosity, and trust in God's power to bring renewal, even amid life's darkest moments. Her story echoes through generations, inspiring us to live lives of service, kindness, and unwavering faith in God's redemptive plan.
​
Tabitha's story challenges us to live lives of service, kindness, and faithfulness. It reminds us that our actions can have a powerful impact on others and that God is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think (Ephesians 3:20).

Since childhood, I've been captivated by the tale of Ehud (Judges 3:12-20). In essence, Ehud, a left-handed Benjaminite, liberated a repentant Israel from Moab's oppressive rule. Tasked with delivering tribute to the portly King Eglon, Ehud seized an opportune moment, claiming a secret message for the king's ears only. The king dismissed the servants, leaving only himself and Ehud in the chamber. Alone, Ehud drew a hidden sword from his right hip and delivered a divine message, “I have a message from God for you,” resulting in a fatal blow.

Eglon's size was such that the entire 18 inches of the blade, along with the handle, penetrated him, leading to an unfortunate outcome. First, he soiled himself, and then his death ensued. Subsequently, Ehud discreetly exited the room, securing it behind him. The unsuspecting servants, assuming the king sought privacy during a moment of relief, patiently waited before unlocking the door, only to discover Eglon's lifeless form. Seizing this interval, Ehud swiftly rallied Israel and orchestrated an offensive against Moab, breaking free from their oppressive rule. Ehud's strategic actions resulted in 80 years of peace for Israel, marking a triumphant chapter in their history and the longest peaceful period in Judges.
As a child, I loved this story for its action-packed heroics, vivid imagery, and a touch of potty humor – elements that resonated with my nine-year-old self. However, as an adult, I began to grasp the deeper meaning of this story. Ehud's left-handedness and Benjaminite origin marked him as seemingly weak and unremarkable. Yet, he turned these perceived weaknesses into strengths.
Ehud's apparent vulnerability and unconventional hiding place for his sword allowed him to get close to the king, showcasing his cunning nature. He used his weaknesses to his advantage, creating an opportunity for Israel to triumph over Moab's oppression. Yes, Ehud’s story is a bloody one, but that is not what we celebrate. The narrative’s importance is the conviction that weaknesses, so often concealed for shame, can be transformed into strengths.
We tend to believe that weaknesses should be hidden, but Ehud's story challenges this notion. God called on Moses, a stutterer, to speak, emphasizing the importance of deliberate speech. Similarly, those who have experienced loss often attempt to minimize their emotions, believing that their sadness is a burden to others. Yet when they lean into their experience, they are often able to connect most profoundly with those undergoing present suffering and offer hope and comfort.
While I can't claim to know how your specific weakness contributes to the Kingdom of Heaven, I encourage you to reflect on your vulnerabilities this week and consider how God may call on you to use them. How might they assist in your Christian journey and the work of the Kingdom?

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     We have been studying Isaiah in our Tuesday Night Bible Study. As a quick reminder, Isaiah is one of the Four Major Prophets with Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel. Most likely Isaiah was written in 2 or 3 sections, with Isaiah ben Amoz himself writing the first 39 chapters before his death during Hezekiah’s reign and his disciples adding to it 200 years later at the end of the Exile. This was a normal practice, but that isn’t the point I’m driving at. Rather, I want you to consider the world that the last writers were in when they wrote the last 12 chapters (55-66).
     They are ecstatic! For nearly a century, Judah had been under the rule of Babylon which had regularly deported Judahites into exile. The last and largest happening about 70 years before, when Jerusalem was left in ruins and Solomon’s Temple razed. The religion of the Judahites was not exactly suppressed in captivity, but without the Temple and priestly system, it had to undergo a great deal of transformation. 
A new faith-tradition emerged, one that relied less upon a centralized authority and instead on local groups studying and debating the faith. It is around this time that the Jewish Scriptures began to be organized into the books we recognize today and these were copied and spread around. The works of the prophets and the Law began to plant new seeds in the people. Seeds of hope, for redemption and a Messiah. A hope for a return to the Garden. It also helped the people of Judah to put better understand their history as a whole and galvanized them to deeper faith and a new fortitude to avoid the mistakes of the past. 
     Isaiah 55-66 is written by disciples of the School of Isaiah as they return to a homeland that they didn’t know. They are not just driven to rebuild what was lost, but to build better. To create a city and nation in line with the Torah and the teachings of the prophets. This is what we hear in these chapters, their faith and enthusiasm overflowing. The center of which are chapters 60, 61, and 62, I’m going to focus on 61. Take a moment and read it, I’ll wait…No, seriously! Put the newsletter down and grab your Bible or look it up on your device and read Isaiah 61…Ok, I’m trusting that you have done that now!
     What does 61 describe? (by verse)

1. God has sent me, filled with the Spirit, to proclaim healing and freedom to those that need it.
2. The oppressed will be lifted and the power of the oppressors will be taken away.
3. The faithful will be made into priests, they will be like a glorious oak forest, they are a reflection of God’s glory.
4. They will repair what was broken, they will be restorers of God’s creation.
5. Others will recognize them and will serve them.
6. But the priests are not taking advantage as the oppressors once did, they will act as Servants of God and the People. Just as the priests of old were fed from the offerings of the people. The Servants will be cared for by the People as they serve them and God.
7. The Servants’ sufferings will be reversed, there will now be joy, honor, and plenty.
8. God is a God of justice! And will make all things right. God will make a Perpetual Covenant with the Servant People.
9. This will pass on to their descendants, and they are the seed to God’s new Garden. Others will recognize this blessing.
10. Let us rejoice in this union! Let us celebrate the wedding!
11. God will create a new Garden, a paradise before and for all nations.

     The author thought that this was coming true in that time, that Jerusalem was becoming the center of the world with the revitalized Jews becoming the priest of all nations. Though this is not what happened. We almost immediately see the returnees fall into many of the same traps as their ancestors. Yes it was different, they weren’t worshipping the idols of other nations. But they were worshipping the idols of their identity and their status. Soon, Jerusalem was what it had once been, just like any city with classes and oppression. The visions of Isaiah’s disciples seemingly false.
     However! It is no mistake that Jesus reads aloud from this chapter as he begins his ministry! For in Jesus we find the fulfillment of the Suffering Servant of Isaiah. The Servant who makes a forest of Servants. The Servant who plants the seeds that will grow into the Garden. By reading from this chapter, Jesus is telling us not to give up on God and to have the same enthusiasm as those disciples once did. We need to look at the future with optimism, not pessimism. You, Sibling in Christ, are an oak, planted by Jesus in the Garden of God. Reflect the Glory of God in your living!

     Spring was church visits time for my family. From February through May we hardly ever attended our home church, instead we would visit different congregations where my dad would give the Camp Report, mom the Sermon, and together they would often do the Children’s Story. But pastors didn’t want Camp Sunday to fall over a holiday, so Easter often found us at the Marion CoB here in Ohio. It was a good time to see grandma and grandpa before summer camp started. Palm Sunday was hit or miss, sometimes we were actually at Stone CoB, sometimes we were visiting a different congregation, either way we would more than likely find ourselves holding palm fronds. Now as a young male, it was always more exciting to get the long single frond, it would eventually be used as a sword with my brothers. Even as a young child, the cross felt inappropriate to swing like a sword, even if it is a sword in shape. Palm Sunday was special and fun, though not all that big of a deal. We got a leaf, not chocolate or gifts. But as I got older, Palm Sunday became much more problematic.
     “Problematic?” you may be saying, “Why?” We actually discussed this in Sunday School recently, but in case you missed that class, here is why. The palm frond would have been fairly ubiquitous in Judea, not only as a native plant, but as a symbol of Jewishness. It was commonly used as a symbol for two things: The Festival of Booths (the celebration of the Exodus), and the Hasmonean Dynasty (the last independent rulers of Judea before being overthrown by the Romans and Herod the Great (the Herod of the Nativity)). 
     So here are a group of people waving the symbols of an independent Judea and of God leading them out of captivity while shouting, “Please save us!” (Hosanna is probably best translating as, ‘We beseech you to deliver us!) All of this happening while Jesus is fulfilling the Zechariah 9:9, 
“Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion! Shout, Daughter Jerusalem! See, your king comes to you, righteous and victorious, lowly and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
It is all very political. Is it any wonder the leaders of Jerusalem feared him? They had already experienced what happens when the Romans believe that someone is thinking about rebelling. And here comes Jesus acting like a messiah and the people calling out to him to save them as they invoke their history of salvation and independence. 
     Jesus, as you all know, rejects this. Yes he is building a kingdom, but it is not a temporal one. There will be no earthly king setting out rules and enforcing them. Jesus’s kingdom is one that exists presently and historically as a spiritual kingdom as people come together voluntarily to live in community and a kingdom that will exist on every level when God brings it to culmination. 
     In recent years we have seen the rise of the Christian Nationalism movement here in the U.S. It isn’t a new thing, it has existed since Constantine openly supported Christianity in 312. In short, it is the idea that our nation is and should be Christian. This doesn’t sound bad on the face of it, after all, who wouldn’t want to live in Christ-centered nation? Our ancestors did, that is why they rebelled and went into the baptism waters. Christianity at the point of a sword, or in modern day parlance, at the threat of arrest and imprisonment, is fundamentally anti-Christ. Jesus rejected the sword and instead choose the wash-basin, turned in the golden crown for thorns, gave up the throne to be raised on a cross, and to die as convict instead of ruling as king. 
     ​I will still be waving the palm leaves with my children this week, it’s a fun tradition! In the back of mind though, I will be thinking about the fact that these palm leaves will wither just as the people of Jerusalem’s hopes in a Jewish Nationalist state did when Jesus was executed. I will wave my palm thinking about how we haven’t been able to accept, even after two millennia, that Jesus doesn’t want us to put him on an earthly throne. I will set my leaf on the ground and leave it, letting Jesus lead me his way and not expecting him to bend to my expectations. May God’s will be done, not mine… not mine.

          My brothers and I spent a lot of our time playing in the woods growing up. We would walk up and down the valley, following stream beds, exploring ridges, and looking for new and interesting places. When we were younger, the rule was that we had to be within ‘car alarm’ range. That was how we were called home, mom or dad would set off the car alarm and we could hear it from nearly anywhere on camp property and quite a ways beyond.

         I remember how this rule was created, it was actually before we had a car with an alarm. We had gone out sledding, if I had to guess, we were either 8, 6, and 4 or 7, 5, and 3, and we decided to follow the stream that ran behind the house. My parents hadn’t been with us as the sledding hill was the backyard. Jacob, Laban, and I had a good time exploring the icy, snowy woods. I have a fairly vivid memory of doing so, but I don’t remember how mom and dad found us. But I guess they had tried to honk the car horns to get our attention and we had ignored them. They were mad, I think we were punished, and after that boundaries were set and the car horn became our call home. Eventually, we became old enough that we could travel even further, as long as our parents had an idea of which way we were going. 

         Part of growing up is learning about and pushing on our boundaries. They can become a source of friction between parent and child. At the same time, children thrive when they have clearly defined limits. As parents we have to slowly move them further and further out. If we move them to fast then our children can end up in a situation that they are not properly mature to handle. However, boundaries that don’t move fast enough, or at all, end up harming a child’s ability to mature and they won’t be able to handle situations that are age appropriate. Sometimes people can handle being unready fine, other times they make poor decisions and end up harming themselves intentionally or unintentionally. 

         The same is true for our faith. When we are little our faith has very small, very rigid boundaries. “This is good and good people have good things happen to them and they go to Heaven. That is bad and bad people have bad things happen and they don’t go to Heaven. If you aren’t sure, just ask an adult, they will have the answer.” 

         As we get older we discover that life is no where near as simple. We figure out that bad things happen to good people, that what is good and what is bad is not always clear in every situation, and no person is simply good or bad. We also begin to be clever enough to ask harder, more probing questions and may even discover that the adults don’t have all the answers. We even begin to read the Bible for ourselves and begin to come to our own conclusions as to what it says. 

         Its hard for us adults, we continue to see our children as who they were and not what they are becoming. We think that they are not ready for a more mature faith when in fact it is we who are not ready to see them as independent believers. There are many people who try to quash young people at this point, who try to keep them in hard boundary faith. I don’t agree with this, it either creates believers that worship the boundaries instead of the God of Love or it simply chases people out of the Church because they believe that they are too sinful to belong. 

         “But wait!” say some, “Are we not suppose to have faith like a small child?” “By all means!” I reply. (Sorry, I just really love Paul’s style.) Yes, we are called to have faith like a child, but we are also told that in Christ we are free. At times in our faith journey we will want concrete answers, but as we mature we find that we are able to accept that somethings are a mystery. We come to realize that we will never have all the answers. Like a child who doesn’t understand why clean clothes appear in their dresser, we live in the mystery of how the Trinity works and why God loves us (to name a few). We progress from not needing to, to needing to, to accepting that we are unable to know all things.
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         ​As we continue the journey through Lent and towards the Cross: be at peace with not knowing the whys and hows, God has it in hand. Be a gentle and loving hand to those behind you on the path of faith as they explore their edges and continue to grow in belief. And be ready for that day when God sets off the car alarm and calls you home.  Blessings