Standing in Solidarity

A core vocation of the church is to stand in solidarity with the stigmatized and disgusting – remembering that it is not the people who are disgusting, but society who is disgusted. Like our Lord, we should be “reckoned with the lawless” (Luke 22:37) such that at every stage of the disgust cycle, the church is standing with the stigmatized and is leveraging any power, privilege, or influence it has on their behalf, fully knowing that this means casting our lot in with a targeted and scapegoated community.

— Paul Hoard and Billie Hoard, Eucontamination, p. 192

Photo: Great Blue Heron, South Riding, Virginia, April 24, 2026

Children of Light

To be “children of light” – people in whom the gospel shines brightly – is different from being morally perfect or never failing. Any focus on perfection was an utterly false and illusory goal that made Christianity into a cult of innocence, whose adherents are so often full of blame and denial that they allow their fault to be projected onto others, unable to see similar failings in themselves.

When Jesus said we are “the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14), he said we must extend this light to “everyone in the house” (5:15) in the form of our own “good works” (5:16), not just exposing others’ bad works. But light does what light does. It clarifies, helps us see fully, and gives us the insight, freedom, and courage to perceive ourselves rightly. Divine light does not inflate us with the pride of “I know,” but illuminates those around us with the gratitude of “I am, too” – a kind of joining “everyone in the house.” Both light and love reveal not our separate superiority, but rather our radical sameness. That quality is, in fact, the way you can tell divine light from human glaring.

— Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things, p. 145-146

Photo: Tulips at Burnside Farms, Virginia, April 7, 2026

What Unity Means

Unity is not a claim that we agree on all things, or even the hope of future agreement. Unity is a commitment to grapple with one another, rather than give one another up. Unity insists that we have something to learn from each other, and that our gifts can complement each other. Unity does not mean integrating smoothly or sweeping disagreements under the rug. Unity means curating spaces in which we can challenge one another in a spirit of love.

–Hanna Reichel, For Such a Time as This: An Emergency Devotional, p. 100

Photo: South Riding, Virginia, November 10, 2025

Our Father

When I pray this line of the prayer, I put a special emphasis on the word our as a way of reminding myself that God is not simply my Father, but he is the God and Father of us all. Whether others acknowledge him or not, he is still the Creator of all things, the Giver and Sustainer of all life. He is the Father of all humans. This seems particularly important in a world prone to polarization and divisions. God is not simply the God of Protestants but also of Catholics and Orthodox believers. God is not simply the God of conservatives, but also of liberals. God is not the Father of any one nation, or ethnic group, but the Father of all nations and peoples. He is not merely the Father of Christians, but the Father of Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and even atheists and agnostics who don’t believe in him.

— Adam Hamilton, The Lord’s Prayer, p. 7

Photo: Burg Falkenstein, Germany, June 19, 2024

Becoming Lowly

On the last night of his life, at his last supper, Jesus puts into words what we’ve seen throughout the entire Gospel. This is what he’s done in befriending outsiders and outcasts, in seeking to lift up the lowly. He came as a servant-king. Everything we’ve seen to this point in the Gospel is a picture of Jesus doing what finally now he puts into words. He gave himself to love, heal, and care for the broken and hurting. He sought to show mercy and grace to the marginalized and those far from God. He came to see those who were often overlooked or unseen. And if he did that for us, as his disciples this must be our posture and the mission we are called to as well. This is what it means to be his disciple: we follow him, and we lift up the lowly.

Lifting up the lowly requires becoming lowly. Greatness is defined by lowering ourselves and serving others. In our world, this is utterly countercultural, but it is absolutely the culture of the Kingdom.

If the disciples, who spent three years with Jesus, were still focused on status and power at the Last Supper, it should not surprise us that we struggle with those same things at times as well. But nearly every one of the conversations Jesus had over his final week were on this same theme. He encouraged a rich young ruler to lay down the source of his status. He blessed and healed a blind beggar. He befriended a wealthy and powerful tax collector who gave up half of what he had to the poor. He praised the poor widow while castigating the powerful and status-loving religious elite. “The greatest among you must become like a person of lower status and the leader like a servant” (Luke 22:6).

–Adam Hamilton, Luke: Jesus and the Outsiders, Outcasts, and Outlaws, p. 107

Photo: pink Mandevilla flowers, August 6, 2025.

We All Have a Place

Over and over again, Jesus shows us the humanity of those we would put into different compartments from ourselves. He reminds us that our fellow brothers, sisters, and siblings are not so easily categorized and separated. To one another, we should not be enemies to be defeated, resources to be exploited, or infidels to be converted. We all belong to one another as one family, and we all belong to God as a heavenly Parent. So it only follows that we would all have a place through God’s gate and at God’s table, no matter how long it takes for us to get there.

–Derek Ryan Kubilus, Holy Hell, p. 91

Photo: Bluebells at Bull Run Regional Park, Virginia, April 18, 2025

Uniting

Abba Daniel, wise old monk, knows that the purpose of the spiritual life is not to separate us from others. On the contrary, it is meant to unite us, but all too often it is used to divide us. Only the really spiritual, the real religious in every tradition, know that the One God wants us all to be one. We are meant to identify with the hopes and fears, and the needs and struggles, of the whole world — because the world is God’s, and we are God’s agents on earth. No, the world cannot separate us from God. Only we can do that.

— Joan Chittister, In God’s Holy Light, p. 39

Photo: View from Burg Falkenstein, Germany, June 19, 2024

A Shelter from the Storm

A shelter from the storm is a beautiful metaphor of the church. It’s not an angry church on a crusade for political causes or a detached church disseminating dogma to a disinterested culture. Instead, try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm – this is the church as a shelter from the storm. It’s immensely appealing. And it’s the very metaphor Jesus leaves lingering in our imagination as he concludes his Sermon on the Mount. In his summation Jesus tells us that if we will live his teaching, we will build a house on the rock-solid foundation that will stand when the rains fall, the winds blow, and the floods rise. To say it plainly, a church that lives the Sermon on the Mount will be a shelter from the storm.

–Brian Zahnd, Beauty Will Save the World, p. 182-183

Photo: Cloudy sky over lake, South Riding, Virginia, December 30, 2023

Empathy

All I can do is try to draw closer to your uniqueness, to feel linked by the small overlaps between us. This is how empathy works. It’s how differentness starts to weave itself into togetherness. Empathy fills the gaps between us, but never closes them entirely. We get pulled into the lives of others by virtue of what they feel safe and able to show us, and the generosity with which we are able to meet them. Piece by piece, person by person, we begin to apprehend the world in more fullness.

— Michelle Obama, The Light We Carry, p. 241-242

Photo: South Riding, Virginia, December 8, 2023