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

Love and Acceptance of Christ

This is part of what we learn from Jesus in this story: Most people don’t become Christ-followers because of our superior theological arguments. They come to church, and then faith, because someone befriended them and demonstrated the love and acceptance of Christ.

There’s a lot of hand-wringing going on today in Christian circles because church membership and worship attendance is dropping in the US. But there is no shortage of people who need to feel they are cared about as human beings, who need to be accepted, befriended, and loved.

— Adam Hamilton, Luke: Jesus and the Outsiders, Outcasts, and Outlaws, p. 92

Photo: Great blue heron, February 14, 2025

Love Is Stronger.

[A prayer for when “the pain is too much”]

I am busy telling you
I will never survive this
and you tell me the truth.
You never poison me with the lie that
“God gives you what you can handle.”
You say, instead,
that you promise,
you swear,
an oath made in your blood,
that this suffering will never outlast
this love.

Tell me again, God,
about how love goes on forever.

No, truly, tell me again
about love stronger than even this.

— Kate Bowler, Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day!, p. 67

Photo: Snow on branches, South Riding, Virginia, February 12, 2025

Finding the Lost

We have been unwanted, rejected, sent away with anger or with sadness at our rebellious streak. We have seen both glory and starvation, both beauty and pig pens, and we are coming home footsore and heartbroken. And before the words are out of our mouth, before our perfect speech is performed, God is cloaking our dirty shoulders in the best robe, slipping a ruby ring on our work-worn fingers, cleaning off the pig slobber to slip sandals on our feet, and declaring: I am so sorry you had to go, and I am eternally glad to have you back again.

— Emmy Kegler, One Coin Found, p. 8-9

Photo: Snow and lake, South Riding, Virginia, February 12, 2025

Just Show Up

It may now be safe to say that our God does not need to be calmed down, nor is ever irate nor filled with wrath. All the mystics have come to see this. Julian of Norwich knows that she’s been told constantly of this angry Divine One but just can’t “find this God” in her experience. We still can’t shake the narrative of the God who seeks our measuring up and demands some high level of performance. We don’t measure up to this God; we just show up. We allow this Tender One to fill us extravagantly, then we go into the world and speak the whole language of it, unrestricted, openhearted, and loyally dedicated to its entirety. Tender glance meets tender glance. Behold the One beholding you and smiling.

For the Tender One, it’s simply never about worthiness. But, I’m afraid for us, it’s ONLY about worthiness. The centurion wants Jesus to cure his servant and humbly tells him: “Say but the word . . .” “I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof . . .” The centurion feels unworthy. But Jesus just wants to notice and connect to him. He pays attention to him. We stare at the cure and the faith of the guy, but Jesus wants us to look at how false our sense of unworthiness is. In the face of this tender glance, we find a God quite speechless — too in love with us to chitchat.

— Gregory Boyle, The Whole Language, p. 11

Photo: Sunrise over lake, South Riding, Virginia, January 18, 2024

Restorative Justice

Jesus’s ministry is not to gather the so-called good into a private country club and punish the outsiders, but to reach out to those on the edge and on the bottom, those who are last, to tell them they might just be first! That is almost the very job description of the Holy Spirit and, therefore, of Jesus. Some call it God’s unique kind of justice or “restorative justice.” God justifies things by restoring them to their true and full identity in himself, as opposed to retributive justice, which seeks only reward and punishment. To receive unearned love is their only punishment.

— Richard Rohr, Yes, And…, p. 220

Photo: Frozen lake, South Riding, Virginia, February 1, 2025

Image Bearer

Art, music, hospitality, gardening, cooking, writing, storytelling, mathematics, programming . . . creating of any kind imitates God! You fill the earth by doing anything that adds beauty and life and fullness to the world around you, whether you prepare a simple meal, start a business, or create a work of art. The job of an image bearer is to use your gifts to mimic the passionate, creative work of God.

— Elizabeth Garn, Freedom to Flourish, p. 58

Photo: “FIND JOY!!!” Shadow Scarf

Never Abandoned

icy lake with the words God will never leave us to face the darkness alone, no matter how deep it may be. -- Derek Ryan Kubilus

Now I don’t mean to start some kind of prooftexting war, as if arguing over theology were just a matter of slapping more verses down on the table than the other guy. I admit that one can seem to find an eternity of pain and abandonment all over the Bible – if that’s what one is looking for. And I suppose there are some evangelicals who would happily squint their eyes and apply some kind of strained interpretation to the verses I quote above to make the case that “all” never actually means “all” when talking about salvation. I used to do the same thing myself. But after years studying the Bible and the traditions of Christianity, I’ve finally given up. At some point, Christians have to stop defending the indefensible and accept the very thing that Christ came to earth to teach us: that God will always come down to us. God will never leave us abandoned. God will never leave us to face the darkness alone, no matter how deep it may be. At some point, we have to admit that, like it or not, “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:38-39).

— Derek Ryan Kubilus, Holy Hell, p. 68

Photo: South Riding, Virginia, January 18, 2025