What's Happening

Jesus doesn't hand his disciples an answer to the parable of the sower, he asks them a question.

We stop trying to force our way into God's heart, and realize we're already standing in it. Grace isn't earned. It's meant to flow through our lives, in word and action, unforced and free.

At a kairos moment — a hinge in history — the ancient question of discernment becomes urgently present.

The prophet Jeremiah didn't hold back with God. He accused, complained, and declared himself cheated, and God was big enough to hold all of it.

Jesus tells the disciples to pray for laborers, then immediately tells them they are the laborers.

David Horton explores what it means that God's holiness isn't a fragile thing to be protected from the compromised and the broken, but a contagious fire that moves toward them.

On the first Sunday of the long green season, we are called back to the basics: sitting together, eating together, and holding each other as the daily practice of a people shaped by Trinity's love.

It starts with a question for the children: when you hear the word "church," what do you think of? And it ends with a baptism.

Conversation sermon with Lorelle Skellie. The God who scatters the wicked is the same God who gathers the orphan and the widow, and that is not a contradiction but a revelation.

Pastor Hector argues that obedience to Jesus isn't a condition for love but its natural overflow

Pastor Hector invites us to see John 14 through a surprising lens: the power of narrative to hold systems in place — or set people free.

This summer, for several Sundays, the sermon time will again take the form of a dialogue between Pastor Hector and a member of the congregation.

To be shepherded is to submit — not to worldly power, which promises control but delivers captivity, but to the living God who seeks us in spite of ourselves.

What keeps us from recognizing Jesus in our midst? Fear, grief, busyness, comfort — and yes, the relentless propaganda of a culture that has weaponized Jesus's name to divide and diminish.

The world is full of forces working to push us into locked rooms — into isolation, fear, and despair.

The resurrection body is not unmarked; it is mended.

As Jesus enters Jerusalem — not on a warhorse, but on a donkey — we see a God who does not hover above our fractures but descends into them.

When Jesus asks Martha if she believes, she doesn't offer a theological argument. She says simply: Yes, Lord.

We live in a world that discards what is chipped, cancels what is complicated, and overlooks what is small.

Labels shape how we see others—and how we come to see ourselves. Like dust that slowly gathers on a window, these labels accumulate until they obscure our true identity.