Be Great, Beloved

A church is great not simply because of what it has done, but chiefly because God loves it and God loves us. (Photo credit: Ann Stewart)

This sermon was preached on the 18^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 20B) at St. John’s Church. The readings for this Sunday were the following: 

Proverbs 31:10-31

Psalm 1

James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a

Mark 9:30-37

What a night we had on Wednesday! It was great! Wasn’t it? Our new Parish Hall was adorned in splendor—elegant table clothes, splendid flower arrangements, beautiful place settings! Our newly expanded space was nearly filled to capacity. We shared in a fantastic meal and watched a slideshow of the construction’s progress. Then, our church’s leaders including our bishop commended us on a job well done! Finally, we walked around as Bishop Kee spritzed our spaces with holy water using a sprig of asparagus fern to douse and bless the renovations and us too. Wednesday’s celebration was great! But, that’s not all that was/is great.

We too are great! Actually that doesn’t take it far enough. St. John’s is so great it might just be the greatest church in this diocese. Yeah, that’s not far enough either. This may be the best church in the entire Episcopal Church. Hold on that isn’t taking it far enough! Even among other denominations I would argue we are the paramount... the greatest church! Yes, I will gladly argue with others that we are the best!

Jesus said, “What’re you arguing about on the way?” Uh oh. I feel a little embarrassed, Jesus. I feel a sheepish silence coming over me. Yep, I just fell into the same trap that ensnared the disciples. Do not get me wrong, the faithfulness, the discipleship, and the generosity of this church is overwhelming, inspiring, and to be commended; however, arguing over who is the greatest—even when it’s regarding a church, especially when it’s regarding a church—arguing over who is the greatest does not lead us any closer to God. But why is that?

Christ Jesus never said, “Seek greatness!” He implored us to love God and to love our neighbors. He urged us to take up our cross and follow him. And, today he lets us know that if we want to be first we must be last and if we want to be great we must serve. But, he never said, “Be great by trying to prove it to others!” So why is it that we do this? Why do we keep reverting back to this argumentative behavior? How come we are striving for greatness instead of striving to follow Jesus? The answer lies in a powerful disconnect that we struggle with as individuals and as an entire species.

Somewhere along the way we have mixed up being great with being loved. Somewhere lodged deep within the entire human population lies a profound brokenness. This wrecked nature leads us to having a blurred vision of who God is and what our relationship with the Divine looks like. This misconception exists right alongside a desire to return to our original state of blessedness. We yearn to remember that we are made in God’s image. And, Christ Jesus came so that we would know the way back into that state; however, we continue to mix up God’s message to us. We continually seek to be great instead of to be loved. 

As individuals, this striving towards greatness comes in many shapes. It will not necessarily look like proving that we are better than others. Rather, each of us in our own way seeks to earn God’s love. All of us struggle to prove that we are worthy of God’s affection. This is not unlike our trying to please a reluctant parent or a reclusive spouse. We may strive for God’s love by trying to be right, to be kind, or to be victorious. We might seek God’s love by being unique, being smart, or being part of a group. We may attempt to achieve God’s love through being the funniest, the strongest, or the most enlightened. Still all of these attempts are for naught. This is not because these strivings are without value, but rather because the thing for which we strive—God’s love—cannot ever be earned. There’s no way to achieve it and no way to lose it.

So that’s it, right? We just sit back and let God’s love roll over us. Well, yes! So why do we continue to revert back into the same brokenness? How is it that we keep falling back into proving our greatness, our worthiness, and our deservedness? What’s our solution?

When the disciples were arguing over their own greatness along the way Jesus called them out. We do not hear the exact words Peter used to say how much more wonderful he was than John, nor do we hear John claim his superiority over his brother James in such plain terms, but make no mistake the disciples were just like us. One might have subtly made innuendos to how much better his kids were. Another could have used the fullness of his calendar to prove his greatness. And, still another may have stated that Jesus like him the best because he was the funniest. As the disciples fought over who was the greatest Jesus laid out a different path.

In a moment of stress and transition the disciples argued over greatness. When Jesus told of his betrayal, death, and resurrection the bickering arose. Jesus though gave another way. Jesus’ alternative path may simply look like servant leadership. However, if we are not careful out-serving one another can lead to just another way for us to prove how great we are. Jesus was not trying to provide another way of competing. Rather, he was laying out a completely different way of living—simply, living by following him.

When we live this way we live in the assurance that God loves us unconditionally, limitlessly, and eternally. So, what changes? If our starting point is not in deficiency, but in total fulfillment through Christ how is our life different? Jesus’ way of servanthood was not so much a leadership tactic as it was a way of completely changing the world. If each and every one of us is living as a servant, then we are not worrying about who is better than the other. If you and I are not trying to prove our greatness, but rather seek to honor and attend to one another’s needs doesn’t that change things? But what does this look like? Jesus pointed to caring for a child as the answer.

Have you ever held a newborn in your arms? When you cared for that baby did you ever think, “This brat is trying to get one over on me!”? Of course not! This is why Jesus pulled that child into their midst. We project all sorts of evil intentions upon one another, which prevents us from really helping each another. Instead of assuming that someone has ulterior motives what if you went above and beyond to care for her needs knowing full well that what matters is that God already loves you both more fully than you’ll ever know? What if you look at all people—even those ones whom you have always tried to best—what if you looked at everyone like you looked at a little child? This is the way of love that Jesus gives us to walk.

This church is great not simply because of what it has done, but chiefly because God loves it and God loves us. God loves you! As you grow in grace may you realize that nothing you do earns you any more love from God. You are already so, so loved. Christ came to show you and us this way. When we realize that we are already loved completely we no longer have to worry about proving our greatness. Instead we realize that we are only great by being loved and sharing that love. So be great, beloved.

The Quality of Mercy

This sermon was preached on the transferred feast of St. Matthew at St. John’s Church. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following:

Proverbs 3:1-6

2 Timothy 3:14-17

Matthew 9:9-13

Psalm 119:33-40

“Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.” (Matthew 9:13)

Today we celebrate not a saint, but a sinner—a tax collector even. Nobody—then or now—likes a tax collector. We’ll bend over backwards to elect a politician who is utterly scum if their opponent has run on the platform of raising taxes. And, those who figuratively come to take our hard earned cash. Well, we do not like anybody coming in and taking something away from us. So it is surprising that today we remember a greedy good-for-nothing.

Today is the transferred feast day of Saint Matthew. And, somehow it feels fitting to be celebrating a despised tax collector just two days after quarterly taxes were due to the Alabama Department of Revenue and the IRS. In his day Matthew was near the top of Israel’s Most Hated list—if there were such a thing. Sure some of the hatred towards tax collectors gets passed down to us, but back then it was even more intense.

In Jesus’ day a tax collector did not have a starting salary or an hourly wage. Instead, they made their money by taking more than was allocated for the imperial tax. Devout Jewish folk did not like tax collectors because they were making their living dishonestly. Patriotic Jewish people living under the yoke of the Roman Empire hated Jewish tax collectors, like Matthew, even more because they were working for the enemy occupiers. No wonder throughout the Gospel accounts we find that tax collectors were the social outcasts of the day. They were lumped together with prostitutes, adulterers, and anyone who had done something to deserve getting leprosy (as though it were under their control). But, that was not how Jesus saw them.

The last words Jesus spoke in today’s Gospel lesson point us in a challenging direction. This path, which we are called to walk, leads us to responding to those sinful, wretched, and hated ones of our own day not with vengeance, but with mercy. Through Christ we hear God challenging us to have mercy on others instead of extracting sacrifice from those whom we loathe. Of course, this is not easy, but as the bard, William Shakespeare himself wrote:

The quality of mercy is not strain'd./

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven/

Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:/

It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes./

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest;/[1]

Mercy is a double gift that is most powerful in the most powerful. It is a quality that extends from God’s own Trinitarian nature. And yet, we live in a world that is obsessed with proving ourselves right and others wrong. We seek to extract justice in the form of vengeance instead of practicing forgiveness and reconciliation. We persecute the tax collectors of our own age, even if it is simply by avoiding them or speaking in hushed tones about them. In short, we have not gone and we have not learned that God desires mercy, not sacrifice.

During a midweek sermon a few years ago the Rev. Evan Garner spoke about the tax collectors and lepers of our own day. Who are the people we avoid as a result of what they do? In our society who is it that we ignore? What persons do we completely isolate simply because of who they are?

The answers in our culture within the Southeastern United States appear vast. Yes we still don’t like tax collectors, but more notably we want nothing to do with pedophiles, sexual offenders, and murders; some of us have trouble with Muslims, While Supremacists, the Alt-Right, the Alt-Left, Socialists, Feminists, and really anyone who has a different view from our own; we don’t want to socialize with adulterers, criminals, certain types of rednecks, most Yankees, and almost all foreigners; we do not know how to approach those with special needs, those going through divorce, those who have lost their job, those suffering from dementia, and often anyone who is not like “us.” We may not have problems with Jesus having dinner with a tax collector, but we sure will get squirmy if we have to sit down with our modern day version of “them” to break bread. But, that is precisely what we must do.

Not too long ago in this part of Matthew’s Gospel account, Jesus made a challenge. He told those who struggled with the sin they saw in someone else to get the plank out of their own eye first. Then, and only then, so maybe never, for none of us will ever be sinless, can we address the sawdust in the other’s eye. As we follow Jesus this is the only way. We must seek mercy, forgiveness, and reconciliation for ourselves and with others. That is the true path of peace, the true course of Christ, the way of love.

On this day when we remember a Saint who was also a sinner (hint: that was true of all of them), let us hear again Jesus’ challenge. We are to seek mercy not retribution, for none of us is worthy to dine with our Savior. Still he invites all of us to the table. And all who turn around and come to meet him here, regardless of their sins, will not be turned away. Everyone is welcome here. For that, thanks be to God.

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[1] William Shakespeare, “The Quality of Mercy” www.PoemHunter.com accessed September 19, 2018 https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-quality-of-mercy/

Who Are You?

Before answering question about our own identity we must figure out who Christ is and what that means for us!

This sermon was preached on the 17^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 19B) at St. John’s Church. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following:

Proverbs 1:20-33

Psalm 19

James 3:1-12

Mark 8:27-38

Who are you? No, I’m not quoting a classic the Who song. I really wanna know. Who are you? Or, put into the parlance of today’s Gospel lesson, “Who do you say that you are?” What about other people? That’s an interesting thought. What if I were to poll the five people closest to you—who would they say that you are? Would those two descriptions match up? Who you say you are and who others say that you are? These questions revolve around the concept of identity—one’s personality or distinguishing characteristics. This fall during our Wednesday night series we will be pondering questions about identity.

To be more specific our fall midweek classes focus on vocation. Vocation, in turn, makes queries about calling and has its root in the word vocare, which connects to the word voice and has to do with hearing what God’s voice is calling us to do. Still, vocation has everything to do with figuring out our identity. During college, my dean of students seemed obsessed with vocation—and helping students to discern better. He said often, “There are three questions of vocation worth pursuing over and over again—‘Who am I?’ ‘What are my gifts and talents?’ and ‘What is my place in the world?’” These questions have everything to do with figuring out our identity. But, with all due respect to my dean, there is one element which is missing from these inquiries. We need something more.

If we are to figure out who we are—our identity—we must also figure out who Christ is. Said more plainly, to determine who we are we must know who He is. Our calling, our purpose, and our identity take their roots only and always in the life of Christ. So before we can answer for ourselves, “Who am I? What are my gifts and talents? and What is my place in the world?” we must answer, Who is Jesus? What claim does he make on my life? and How has my identity changed as a result? The first question—Who is Jesus?—helpfully gets answered in today’s Gospel lesson.

“Who do people say that I am?” Jesus asks his disciples as they journey into the Gentile city of Caesarea Philippi. Halfway through the Gospel according to Mark Jesus wanted to know what effect he was having on people in the crowds, as well as scribes and Pharisees. The disciples quickly listed off three figures: John the Baptist, Elijah, and one of the prophets. Let’s look at these answers a little closer.

John the Baptist had recently been beheaded. This connection to Jesus made sense as they both preached of repentance and the coming of God’s Kingdom. Elijah was a mighty prophet of the Old Testament that never died, we can see the comparison to Jesus. Elijah was to the Hebrew people like God’s bullpen reliever ready to trot out if things got out of hand. The final answer the disciples gave for Jesus’ identity was that he was one of the prophets. They meant that Jesus had come to prepare the way for God’s people to turn back. While these are all nice answers, none of them hits the nail on the head. They were not Jesus’ true identity. And, apart from the narrator in Mark giving us Jesus’ real nature in the first verse of the entire Gospel story, we have not heard who Jesus was until what happened next.

Jesus asked his disciples, “But who do you say that I am?” And, for the first time we hear a character call Jesus, “The Messiah” that is the Christ. The anointed one who came to save—not just the people of Israel—but all nations. Yes, Jesus got checked in last week’s Gospel lesson by the Syrophoenician woman. But, then he healed a blind man in the Greek area of the Decapolis. And today, we see him traveling in the Roman stronghold of Caesarea Philippi. He was the Messiah of all. And, we find that one of his chief followers made the stunning observation and proclamation of Jesus’ true identity. Peter claimed for the rag-tag disciples and for all, “You are the Messiah.” Plain and simple, Peter lets the cat out of the bag. So, we know who Jesus was, but what claim does that make on us?

Why does it matter that Jesus was…is the Messiah? 2,000 years later and half a world away, why should we care that a backwater rabbi impressed his followers enough that they thought he was the Savior of the world? So what? Immediately after Jesus heard Peter’s words in today’s story he sternly ordered his followers not to share this information. Then, he began to reveal the full view of being the Messiah. It is in this description that we hear the claim on our lives—it’s here that we begin to discover our purpose and identity in light of Christ’s.

According to Jesus the Messiah had to undergo suffering, rejection, and even death. This does not seem glamorous or glorious or even good, but it was God’s way. And, it still is. We are so accustomed in our world to pride and pomp and pageantry associated with being great. We throw parades for victors. Jesus’ parade on Palm Sunday was instead the anti-parade, as he came into Jerusalem on a donkey. We shout words of honor towards those we respect. Jesus instead heard cries from his own people to crucify him on Good Friday. We heap praise on the celebrated ones of our day. Jesus instead endured jeers and mockery when he hung on the cross.

What claim does Christ make on our life? He claims that if we are to be his, if our identity, our being is to be united with his own, then we too must take up our cross. We must not seek praise. We cannot go in search of pats on the back. We are to deny ourselves and lose ourselves for the sake of Christ. We must be like Saint Paul who said to the Galatians, “I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who lives, but it is Christ who lives in me.” How does our identity change? We no longer live for ourselves, but we unite in Christ and allow that new creation to be born through us.

This is a life-long journey. We never reach the finish line of our faith. We find ourselves every day at a new starting line. Always we begin again. And, each day we have the opportunity to choose to be crucified with Christ, so that our identity is resurrected in Him. We become a new creation as Christ transforms us into being part of His Risen Body. God makes this claim on our lives. God yearns for us to be children and heirs through Christ. And, when we become alive in Christ we see the true identity of God’s Son Jesus.

Who am I? What are my gifts and talents? What is my place in the world? As we explore these questions of vocation this fall, may we keep a broader perspective. It does not matter how we answer these questions until we recognize our identity in light of Christ. Until we accept God’s desire to live in us always it matters not who we say that we are. Until we see Jesus’ true identity we cannot know our own. He is our Messiah. And, may we find our identity by picking up our cross and following him.

Modern Day Prophets

An icon of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Who are the prophets of our day? Who are those people who are voices crying out in the wilderness? Said another way, who are the inspiring ones whose words and witness challenge us such that we stick them out on their own? I have some answers of my own, but I am curious about you. Who are those people who provide a challenging, annoying, or even infuriating call to change your life? These prophets and their cries often get misremembered—much like with the Pharisees’ own celebration of prophets who came before them—we might believe we would like a certain prophetic witness when in reality that person’s words and actions convict or even condemn us.

A good example of this is the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He was a great leader in seeking change. He started a nonviolent revolution, taught about peaceful resistance, and preached the Gospel of love. However, often we forget all of the challenges that he and others freedom fighters faced seeking better (but sadly still not equal) civil rights. We turn the Rev. Dr. King into a more appealing caricature of himself. One that is easier to swallow. In reality he was one that challenged and condemned the status quo as he sought true and lasting justice for all. King was not the only one though.

We do a similar thing with Mother Teresa. She was less a prophet and more a prophetic witness. Still we think that she was kind and sweet. But, we forget how she struggled with the poor of Calcutta. We overlook the grime, the mess, the filth, the hunger, and the pain that she lived with in her own life.

Even the greatest New Testament prophet John the Baptizer gets a cuddly lacquer applied to his rough life. He wore camel’s hair. He ate locusts. This was not for a fun camping trip or new diet, but for life. He went out into the wilderness for perspective and so that he could have clarity when he cried out against the powerful of his day. But, these prophetic witnesses are not all, we make Jesus into someone he was not and is not.

Jesus did not come simply to make us feel better about our lives. He came to change us, to transform us, and oftentimes this means he came to challenge us. When he called out the Pharisees for pledging their support to prophets of old but completely missing the prophets of their own day he was giving us a mandate as well. We must continue to be open to how God’s word is being spoken to us not just in the past, but right now. So, again I ask, “Who are the prophets of our own day?”

Prophets are those who call us back into lives of integrity—that is to say lives in which our thoughts and actions match up with our beliefs—and lives of righteousness—that is to say right relationship with God. Jesus pointed out that the Pharisees did not do this. So who calls us into lives of integrity? Who calls us back into right relationship?

Those who call us to respect God’s Creation. This means Climate Scientists, Ecologists, and Environmentalists who call big companies and us out for abusing this world we have been given to steward. If we are out of sort with the rest of what God has created can we possibly be in right relationship with the Creator?

Those who call us to respect one another. Protestors who call for equal rights for those who have historically been marginalized, abused, and treated as property (i.e. women, immigrants, and people of color). These who are trying to raise our level of awareness to the hurt that others experience on a daily basis are prophets of our day.

Those who call us to tolerate those who differ from us. Jesus lived in a world that was multi-cultural and multi-religious. The Roman Empire was vast and expansive and its captives and citizens were from all over the known world. At times Jesus tried to exclude those outside of the faith of his people, but the Gospel story shows us that those times usually ended with a widening of the story for Jesus and that person. This is to say that Jesus’ and the other’s vision of who God includes broadened. Today, we are called to see that all of us are God’s children. God wants all of us to be united together as one body. People who call for cross-cultural and inter-faith dialogue are prophets of our day.

There are many others who speak truth, but we might have a kneejerk reaction towards them, especially at first. Prophets though often are too challenging at first for us to accept. This was true with the religious during Jesus’ day and it is true now. I invite you to expand your vision to hear the prophets of our day. No one likes to change, but God calls all of us to be transformed by the prophetic words of Christ still be spoken today. As Max Lucado has written and our Presiding Bishop Michael Curry has often quoted, “God loves you where you are, but God does not intend to leave you where you are.” Who are the modern day prophets? And, how are they calling you in to the power of God’s transformation?

Something You Can't Fix

This sermon was preached on the 15^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 17B) at St. John’s Church. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following: 

Song of Solomon 2:8-13

Psalm 45:1-2, 7-10
James 1:17-27
Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

There is an anti-bullying charity called Ditch the Label. A year ago that organization published a video about the lies that people tell on social media.[1] These are not “fake news” lies, but rather lies that people—even friends—tell one another.

One clip shows a young woman jump out of bed in the morning to wash her face, fix her makeup, and return to bed where she takes a picture—she posts it on social media to show that she woke up like this, even though she did not. Another part of the video shows a series of people making great life decisions like going on a bike ride, getting organized at work, and drinking a healthy juice—except all of those pictures were staged; they were all untrue. Still another clip depicts a group of friends in their own little worlds on their individual smart phones at a restaurant, then after they ask the waitress to take a picture of them together, one posts the photo with the caption “quality time with friends”—really?

This video has been seen nearly 5 million times on YouTube, and it displays the all too popular trend of people double-dealing on social media about what they are doing, or how they’re feeling, or even who they are! We might recoil at the thought of doing this—lying about how we’re having the best time ever sipping our Triple, Venti, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato or how we killed our crossfit workout this morning or how we are living our best self, keeping it 100, or whatever the latest expression of success is—still it is all too common for all of us to make small edits to how we portray ourselves. Each and every one of us shields the darkness that is inside, so that no one else sees it—and I do not mean in virtual life, I mean in real life.

The hard truth is that you and I—that we—all have dirt within us. No, I don’t mean because we have inhaled it during construction. I mean all are broken inside. That’s not how we were made, but this hard truth is quite apparent nowadays, especially in the reckoning that society has been going through recently. Even the most trusted news anchors, even the most beloved actors, and even the top church leaders within the Episcopal Church and the larger church have this wickedness within them. You have come to church today and that is awesome, but it doesn’t mean that you are exempt from what I am saying. Even though I am standing here in this pulpit, I’m not excused from it. We are not a gathering of pious saints better than everyone else, no we are a group of recovering sinners just like everyone else.

I would love to tell you that there is a silver bullet or a secret pill to stop you and me from causing others pain or making mistakes or doing one of those things that Jesus listed in today’s Gospel lesson, but that’s just not true. As someone wiser than me recently wrote, “No law or tradition can protect us from the darkness that lurks within our own hearts. We can try to project a squeaky clean image, but one way or another, the evil within will find its way out. The highly edited version of ourselves, the façade that we present to the world, will crumble sooner or later.”[2] These words ring so clearly of truth. And, they describe something that is not new—not in the least bit. The Pharisees of long ago were all about this.

Often Pharisees get beat up by preachers and good Christians alike. Horrifyingly though, we are more like them than we might know or admit. You and I are here because coming to Church brings us closer to God, it gives us a good foundation for building solid lives, and it provides us a way to say thank you to God. All of these things were true also of the Pharisees. When Jesus got so angry with the Pharisees in today’s Gospel lesson it wasn’t because they were faithful, nor was it because they thanked God, nor was it even because of their traditions, although often that’s what preachers talk about on days like today. No, Jesus was frustrated because even the most well-intended traditions, religious laws, and spiritual practices cannot cordon us off from the dangers that exist within our own souls.

If you and I are honest and not just focused on how we present ourselves to the outside world. If you and I instead see who we really are, then, we will see all those sinful behaviors in today’s Gospel not in someone else, but in ourselves. That’s right I will see fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly in myself and you will see it in yourself. We may not do those things, but the potential is there. No amount of editing on social media can take those things away. No law can protect us from them. Nor can even the best spiritual practices shield us from the darkness within us. Although religious traditions and healthy practices can be helpful in living our lives; they cannot do what God alone does—they cannot do what Christ Jesus makes evident.

Clearly the Gospel lesson from today is clouded with bits about the law, but Good News shines through it as well. Jesus clearly sees what lies within each of us. He sees all those things that exist in the darkness in us. And yet, he does not turn away. He could have run for the hills—or I guess to heaven—when he recognized that human beings were fallen, broken, and corrupted. But, that’s not what he did. Even when we edit ourselves online and in real life Jesus knows our truth—what resides in the hidden recesses of our hearts, what pictures we lied about on social media, and what sins we cannot help but fall into. And even knowing all this, Jesus loves us still. He loves us always. Jesus most obviously showed this in his actions of including the outcasts, loving the unlovable, and reaching out to the unreachable. The most religious, the least religious, the unreligious—all are loved by this one who came to show us what love truly is.

The good news, the best news, is what we know to be the truth in Christ. Even on the dark side our souls, even when we as human beings betray, torture, and kill the Son of God over and over again, God’s response is love. It’s to love us. But, we cannot, we must not simply rest on this overwhelmingly Good News, this treasure that is God’s love. No, we must allow it to take us over.

If God loves us despite our inner grime, then we too must love. We must love ourselves despite our filth and failings. We must love others even when they throw dirt on us. This life is not about getting down in the mud to decide who’s clean and who’s not, but rather it is about experiencing the cleansing love of grace. Through the Creator’s love, Christ’s grace, and the Spirit’s power, the holy and undivided Trinity makes us new—today and always. Nothing other than God’s love makes us refreshed, clean, and whole. But, the best way—perhaps the only way—we experience this love is with and through each other.

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[1] “Are You Living an Insta Lie? Social Media vs. Reality.” Published February 20, 2017. Accessed August 31, 2018. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EFHbruKEmw&feature=youtu.be

[2] Elisabeth Johnson, “Commentary on Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23.” Working Preacher. Published August 26, 2018. Accessed August 31, 2018. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3758