Bad things happen. People do unthinkable, horrible things. We see earthquakes, floods, droughts, and other natural disasters all of the time. Our families face sicknesses, hardships, depression, and death. If we allow ourselves to focus on the bad for long enough, it starts to feel like not much good happens in the world anymore. It seems as if God is nowhere to be found in the time we most need His presence.

In these trying times we often, and unfairly, blame God. We can question God. It is even understandable to get mad at God. But, we shouldn’t blame Him. Tragedies are not a product of God’s absence or apathy. In fact the opposite is true. Tragedy is a function of God’s amazing love for us. When God created us we are offered the choice to love. This choice, however, opens the door for darkness. But, without our free will, we could never feel true love. If we were simply programmed to love without choice, then it would not be the kind of unconditional and overflowing love we know in Christ. We would be robotic beings, going through motions, but never coming as close to God as He intended. To love (or not to love) is a choice we make freely. That’s just the way it works.

The world, if we allow it, can evoke anxiety, fear and desperation. These feelings offer us choices. We can choose to run to God or to run from Him. There really is no middle ground for those of us with faith. If we choose to run from God, we lead ourselves into despair and loneliness. However, if we lean on faith and run to God we see the opposite. Yes, the suffering and pain may still exist, but God promises peace to help us deal with the present; strength to lead us into the future; and, an eternal life shared with Him. Where we see tragedy and disaster, God sees opportunities for us to know a deeper kind of love. When we want to hide in fear from the world, God calls us to go into the world and spread the message of love and hope. In good times, or in bad, God tells us to trust in Him and share His love and grace.

In John 16:33 Jesus reminds his followers of the big picture. “I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!” Jesus already won the battle. He experienced the worst the world has to offer and is victorious. He suffered so we don’t have to. So why would we choose to go it alone, to live in fear, or even to doubt God’s very presence in times of trouble? As Christ followers, we believe there is something more. Keep that faith in the darkest hours because we know a new dawn is always just on the horizon. God will fulfill His promises, if not in this life, then in eternity.

Korea.net / Korean Culture and Information Service [CC BY-SA 2.0]My September 27, 2015 sermon in 700 words, thinking about Pope Francis' visit to the U.S. (lots more here):

Did ya get your "pope on" this week? 

Here he comes, the leader of over 1 billion Roman Catholics at a time of extraordinary change.

Here he comes, shifting the tone and in some cases even the content of his church's social witness.

And here he comes, inviting us all to a new engagement with the poor, the marginalized, and the oppressed.

Whatever one thinks of specific things he says or does, one cannot deny his impact. Religious and non-religious alike seem fascinated.

Here's one thing I see in all of this: I think that religious or not, we are so thirsty in our culture for words of moral weight that are uplifting and not downgrading, that promote peace and offer hope. We're so thirsty for words that lift us into something more important than who wins and who loses and that give a reason to want more for ourselves and for each other than what the latest commercials tell us we should want. We're so thirsty for careful thought that goes deeper than the pre-processed, politically obsessed, and emotionally manipulative entertainment that so often passes these days for public conversation about things that really matter.

In the end, he uses these kinds of words to call us to a new vision of sacrifice, both for each other and for the greater good—for the health of families, for people who are excluded, for the young in all that they face—no matter their color, their citizenship, their wealth or their potential. 

And so here I make my own appeal: Isn't this vision what each one of us, deep inside, really want—even if we don't know how to talk about it or how it always works? No matter our circumstance or station, don't we want to live a noble life, to live for something greater than ourselves, and to bring our families or others we love into that kind of living?   

We owe that joy to each other, don't you think? 

We certainly owe that joy to our children. We owe them a faith that is about more than refuge. We owe them a faith that is about adventure, about a love that's worth giving their lives to.  

In one of his homilies this week, Francis said this: "Every Christian man and woman, by virtue of baptism has received a mission. Each one of us needs to respond as best we can. . . . What about you?" What about you?

Listen to the September 27 sermon here

It is hard to open a newspaper, turn on the news, or scroll down your news feed on Facebook without catching another story of hate, anger, violence and hurt. The stories touch us right where we are like the story of Kayla Mueller, a local humanitarian aid worker who was taken captive and murdered in Syria. ISIS terrorist attacking and killing people.  Religious and racial persecution continues to grow.  The suicide rates are sky rocketing and shootings which seem like an everyday occurrence. It is easy to focus on the brokenness around us.  To let the shootings, violence, and hate really capture the essence of our world today. It is sad and deep down it hurts because God didn’t make us this way. This wasn’t God’s plan and here we are a week and a half away from Easter—and it is easier to think about brokenness than about the hope of resurrection.

Holy Week is filled with some of our darkest days ending with the hope in Jesus’ resurrection. We understand the darkest days part because we live in the muck and mess of death, hate and pain all the time, but it should be different. I wonder if it seems dark only because we are forgetting to notice the hope of resurrection. I wonder what would happen if we flipped it and it was mostly about resurrection moments and less about darkness.

So this morning I began thinking about the resurrection moments in the past week that I have had the opportunity to celebrate:

• Pinnacle just collected 2,545 items to donate to our local food banks, an amazing gift to the people in need all around us.   
• Last weekend 25 people went to St. Vincent de Paul and harvested 500 pounds of fresh produce to feed the hungry. We had an amazing time, laughing, gardening and enjoying being together.
• Last night at our deacon meeting we celebrated ten deacons who have served three year terms and two youth deacons who have served one year terms caring, loving and supporting our church community. These are amazing people and I am blessed to be around them. We also welcomed twelve new deacons and youth deacons to serve with energy, imagination, compassion and care—this is going to be a great year!
• On Sunday, we commissioned our Stephen Ministry program here at Pinnacle a team of church members who are willing to walk along side in a confidential relationship with another member at Pinnacle through a difficult season in their life.

And this is just at Pinnacle. I haven’t mentioned my dog who is getting better, the new book I am reading or the amazing conversations I have had this past week with friends.

It is more work to think about resurrection moments than the brokenness of the world since brokenness is plastered all around us, but this is part of our call as Christians—to live as resurrection people. To see the unity in times of disunity, the hope in the midst of despair, love in places of hate, Jesus’ resurrection right before our eyes.

What are the resurrection moments in your life? Where are the places that God has entered into your life, some that might seem broken—but there is hope. Thanks be to God!