Hilda, Abbess of Whitby: Living Your Rule of Life

Today the Church celebrates Hilda of Whitby

Whether we know it or not, we are living life by a rule. This rule is sometimes hidden and at other times as clear as day. We consciously or unconsciously go about our days with this rule helping to make our decisions: guiding us in what we say, where we go, and how we act. As strange as this might sound we all have a Rule of Life, but Hilda whom we celebrate today presents us with a challenge. Instead of slogging through life unaware of the rule, Hilda’s witness as a saint of the Church, emerges as an example of how to live intentionally, so that God may fully bear Christ in us.

We will come back to the Rule of Life in a moment. First, let us go back in time. The Venerable Bede, the famous Church historian, wrote, “Hilda’s career falls into two equal parts,” as she spent thirty-three years in secular habit before dedicating the second half of her time on earth to monastic living. Now, before you tune out because monasticism seems ridiculous to those of us who live outside the walls of an abbey or monastery, let me pass along some wisdom that has changed how I view nuns and monks.

During the Reformation, when the Church Catholic underwent marvelous growth and tremendous splintering, a shift occurred that seems all but forgotten. The Protestants who were fed up with clericalism, the putting of clergy and monastics on a pedestal, finally had Holy Scripture that they could read in their own language and eventually books of prayer, so they could spend time with God at their own home. Many family members began to see their households as little monasteries. This seems to be a lost gift from the Reformation: we are invited to see our households as safe havens where our life in Christ is shaped as family and individual, then we are called to go forth to serve Christ in the world around us.

This vision where the home is the cloistered harbor of formation does not happen haphazardly. Just like in Hilda’s day when she founded the Abbey at Whitby a deliberate Rule of Life helps to guide how one lives, moves, and has one’s being. Interpreting a Rule of Life can be tricky, for it can diverge into legalism and earning God’s favor if we are not careful; however, we all live by rules whether we know it or not. The daily routines that we fall into are our unintentional rules. A Rule of Life therefore is not something to be maintained without grace, as much as it is a map and a guide to reveal that we are already home in God when we feel lost.  Now what Hilda’s witness asks us to do is to take on an intentional way of living within our own little monasteries, such that we clear away the clutter that distracts us from living the abundant life in Christ.

Hilda challenged those who came under her guidance to take on the virtues of “justice, devotion, chastity, peace, and charity” (Holy Women, Holy Men, 686). Everyone who met Hilda called her “mother” for she was that nurturing as a leader. Even when the Church in East Anglia struggled to bring together the Celtic and Roman branches of spirituality, she served as an example of obedience and reconciliation in the face of tension and division. Her life exemplifies an intentionality where our Rule of Life at home guides us to contemplative action in the world. What is your Rule of Life? How will you intentionally shape your life? God’s abundant grace reigns down at all times and in all places, search out a Rule of Life that helps us you to live the abundant life in Christ.

Facing Terrorism: Focus on Jesus

The stones of a building are not supposed to come crashing down. Ground beneath our feet is not meant to shake and rumble. No farmer plants seeds thinking that the season will end in famine. We do not wake up believing that a tornado will rip through our town. And no one goes through life expecting terrorists to incite mass murders nearby; however, these horrific, existence-shattering, and even life-ending events seem to be happening far too often.

This weekend I could not help but empathize with the painful reality that the people of Paris are feeling. I am sure you felt the same way. Bombings and shootings at a soccer stadium, a concert hall, and in a nightlife district rocked Parisians’ lives, much like how many of us felt shaken by the events of 9/11. And what is more, earlier in the week ghastly reports of terrorism arose from Beirut, Bagdad, and Garissa, Kenya. (All of the terror and all of the horror can very quickly put into perspective internet quibbling over the design on a coffee chain’s cup.) In this day and age, we cannot outrun the shocking news from every corner of the globe, and the news that grabs all of the headlines is of violence, famine, war, earthquakes, airline crashes, and other disasters. I have a very hard time with this being our current focus as a society, and I believe Jesus does too.

Last week’s gospel story focused on a widow, who with her two copper coins put in so much more than the showy gestures of the scribes. The outward signs of the religious were small compared to the inward abundance of the old woman. As soon as this teaching ended, Jesus and his disciples walked out of the Temple. This is where our gospel story picks up today.

One of the disciples marveled at the Temple. In that day the Temple was a sight to see. It was huge, with many balconies, covered walkways, and courtyards. Herod had the Temple built through the blood and sweat of others. It was constructed of marble to impress people from all over the world. While the magnificent appearance of the Temple was grandiose and attractive, Jesus had just finished teaching his disciples that inward devotion, not outward appearance was the mark of abundant life. Perhaps Jesus’ lesson was not getting through to the disciples, so he made a bold claim.

He said, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.” These were ominous words, as the Temple would later crumble to the ground. And yet, Jesus revealed a deeper truth that persists to this day: nothing material in this world will last forever. Our greatest handcrafted achievements will one day fall down, even the mountains will be made low, the valleys exalted, and the crooked paths made straight. Still, this week I have a harder time making sense of this reality as it falls hard on my ears, and even harder on my heart. “All will be thrown down” does not engender solace or arise a sense of consolation from God. So what was it that Jesus was trying to tell his disciples?

At this moment, looking across from the Mount of Olives with his disciples Jesus was himself staring death in the face. He was in Jerusalem on the week of his crucifixion and could see the impending chaos that his disciples would undergo after he was captured and killed. The teacher was trying to pass along a Masters level lesson to his students. We too are to take on this difficult understanding.

The disciples pressed Jesus to talk about what he meant by the prediction of the Temple’s fall, but when they asked for a date and sign, Jesus did not give them a simple response. Instead of replying in a straightforward manner, he talked about false prophets, rumors of wars, wars, nations rising against nation, kingdom fighting against kingdom, and even earthquakes. Through this though he gave his followers great wisdom when he said do not let these things alarm you, or put another way, do not let all of those things distract you from what I am imbedding in you, what I am planting in you, what I am giving to you. For those things are not what is to come, the end is still to come.

“The end is still to come,” maybe this phrase does not instill in you a lot of confidence. Maybe I could say it in a little different way that will sound familiar to you Cursillo people. The best is yet to come. The best is yet to come might come off as pie-in-the-sky drivel, but I hope and believe that in God’s reality the best is yet to come.

When Jesus came to this earth he did not end senseless violence, famine, poverty, or war. We are well aware of this truth. And, his message that the end is further along was not something full of fluff. No, Jesus brought the good news that the best is still yet to come because God’s fulfillment of all in all is coming. Jesus started something when he brought healing and wisdom, freedom and release, life and love into this world. These virtues are not easily achieved, but by the grace of God this is the end, the goal to which all of us are headed when we live in Christ. Sometimes, like this week, it can be difficult to know that the beautiful end is the truth.

Just a little bit after this story from today’s gospel, Jesus shared a sacred meal with his disciples that we continue to share today. I can at times feel as though I do not understand the ways of this world. And yet, when I end up with my hands and heart open at God’s Table I know that the end is not mine to determine. Through Jesus God invites us to have a foretaste of the heavenly banquet that is yet to come where all God’s children will feast together. Yes, the end is yet to come. And yes, it is scary to not know what the end will look like. But, sometimes we get a glimpse of it.

Perhaps you heard a story that came out of Paris on Friday night. “Porte Ouverte” means “Open Door” in French. It was the hashtag that people who were already safe in France used on social media to invite those in danger off of the streets. Taxi drivers turned off their meters and shuttled stranded tourists and residents to safety. In the midst of a murderous rampage the love and open doors of strangers said to one another and to the entire world the end is still to come, the best is yet to come.

The distractions and dangers of this world are real. The pain that people feel in Paris, Beirut, Baghdad, Garissa, and elsewhere will not magically go away. We as followers of Jesus are not called to ignore the problems of this world. And yet, we are also not to be distracted from following Jesus, not even by wars, politics, disasters, or terrorism. As our reading from the letter to the Hebrews puts it, “And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” In the name of the Living God, Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer! Amen.

Expectations and Resentment

Sometimes seminary education is about the scholarly work in the classroom and sometimes it is about the practical advice given elsewhere.

My Liturgy Professor spoke quickly with such verbose language and about such deep topics that my classmates and I would walk out of class thinking that we had been trying to drink water out of a fire hydrant. Dr. Nathan Jennings told us so much about the origins of our common prayer. He could articulate the mysteries of worshiping the Almighty in a way that often inspired awe at what I was getting myself into as a seminarian. However, sometimes what Dr. Jennings said about other aspects of life was even more profound.

“Expectations are resentments waiting to happen,” were his words at a New Student Orientation event. Expectations are resentments waiting to happen. I am uncertain of whether this was a phrase he coined or merely shared, but at least once a week I find myself coming back to this wisdom. This phrase stands out as particularly fitting in light of today’s Gospel lesson from Matthew.

Jesus has just capped off an impressive, rapid fire tour of teaching parables. He has compared the kingdom of heaven to treasure hidden in a field, a merchant in search of fine pearls, and a net thrown into the sea. Finally he summarized this series by saying scribes trained for the kingdom of heaven are like masters who bring forth the best of what is new and what is old. Then, Jesus and his band of followers make their way to his hometown. Instead of a continuation of this grand tour of teaching, something else entirely transpires.

In the synagogue Jesus begins teaching and the people were astounded, which at first sounds positive. And yet, in the next breath it seems the people of Nazareth cannot get past who it is that is teaching. They ask, “Where did this man get this wisdom and these deeds of power? Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary?” Apparently they cannot get past the origins of the teacher. Their minds already being made up do not allow them to hear and to receive with open hearts the message of Jesus. Their expectations are resentments waiting to happen.

How have you already made up your mind about someone? Who in your life is just the carpenter’s son? Who’s only the child of Mary? Jesus later will say that if you want to enter the kingdom of heaven you must enter it like a child. Children do not live with expectations. They respond with awe-filled gratitude and curiosity to each moment they exist. Your expectations are resentments waiting to happen. Instead of assuming God, your family, friend, or neighbor will respond in a certain way, which inevitably leads to resenting the person or situation when it does not; live your life with wonder learning from all whom God places in your way.

Can You See Now?

Sermon based upon 1 Corinthians 2:1-13

In a very astute observation Mary Hinkle Shore compares today’s reading from the letter of Paul to the Corinthians to an eye exam. Really, she likens all of what Paul does after his conversation to getting one’s eyes checked. She notes that when one goes to read the eye chart everything can become clearer or more blurry simply by the type of glass that is placed in front of one’s eyes. For Paul the glass that makes all things clear is Christ Crucified. I believe this is the event that shapes how we see the world too!

A few years back I had a conversation with a good friend. Even though we hold seemingly opposing views of God, he and I have the ability to share in intense conversations with neither of us getting offended. On that particular day he told me that he thought Christians today do not strictly live as followers of Jesus. Moreover, people who believe in Jesus also hold onto several other guiding principles. He stated thinking America is the only superpower, ascribing to one political party’s agenda, or even belonging to some group like the Masons could easily play a dominant role in living out one’s life. Looking at me he said, “You cannot possibly think that you identify primarily as a Christian.” It was a bold accusation!

How do I make sense of the world? What can I possibly say in the face of such a violent and tumultuous world? Where do I get my sense of direction in the hurricanes that blow through this life?

Paul, writing to a divided group of self-indulgent people in Corinth, made a way clear that illuminates a different path than the one obvious in his day. The worldly powers did not understand what Jesus came to do. They believed that he was dangerous. They thought he was misguided. They could see that if his message caught hold their power could slip away. Paul when he was Saul was very much a part of that group. He was a persecutor of those who followed Jesus. And yet, when he was blinded by God his vision became ever clearer not through a series of different glass lenses, but rather through the mystery of Christ Crucified.

Paul writes, “’What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him’-- these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God.” In our world we can believe a lot of different things. We can so easily get swept up in other belief systems, but Jesus calls us to go with him into and through the mystery of the Cross.

I sometimes try to explain this mystery away, but this is not just a competing belief system, this is how I am to live my life. I believe we are called to follow Jesus by practicing resurrection with God wherever we are and wherever we go. To practice resurrection means that we lay down those things that are dying in our lives. We bury those things that no longer give us life and energy and vitality. In the tomb with Christ those things cease to exist in the way that we once knew them. These deaths are not easy, but require suffering and pain and grieving.

Somehow though the vision that Paul had is something that can allow us to see beyond the foolishness of this world and truly see what God calls us to see. Namely, we can perceive that the things that were being laid down are now being raised up. The valleys are being lifted up. The high places are being made low. And the way of God is being paved, not by some powers of this world, but by the mystery of Christ Crucified.

End Racism Sunday: Be Opened

On End Racism Sunday how do we confront a "racist" Jesus?

This sermon takes into account End Racism Sunday and is inspired by Mark 7:24-37.

Sermon audio may be found here.

We love dogs don’t we? We pamper them, walk them, and bathe them. We pay for their nails to get trimmed. We send them to spas, we buy them cute outfits, and even put them on extravagant diets. I’ve heard it said that if an alien looked down upon our part of the world, it would believe that dogs are the ruling species by how well we typically treat them. While we love dogs so much, to be called a dog does not often carry the same good feelings as the ones we get when we see our furry little friends.

To be clear dog idioms are a mixed bag. “You’re my dog,” “You sly dog you,” and “top dog” certainly stand out as complementary expressions. On the other hand though there is “sick as a dog,” “hair of the dog,” “calling off the dogs,” “shouldn’t happen to a dog,” “can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” and just for good measure, “thrown to the wolves.” Taken a step further no woman wants to be referred to as the female side of the canine species, and if you’re a man you don’t want to be called an SOB.

In Jesus’ day there were also doggy terms, like in today’s gospel story. When this Syrophoenician woman humbly approaches Jesus, his response comes across with a lot of emotional static. That is, we have a hard time hearing Jesus calling her a dog without cringing. Is Jesus being playful? Did some later anti-Gentile Christians put this into Mark’s story? Wasn’t Jesus all about being inclusive? These are just a few questions worth raising when we hear Jesus’ response to a panicked mother seeking her daughter’s healing.

The phrase that Jesus used was diminutive, meaning he did not call her a big mean dog. And yet, this phrase does not come across as “cute little puppy,” but rather something like, “that little b____.” (Micah D. Kiel, "Commentary on Mark 7:24-37" www.workingpreacher.org). There is however, something more problematic for us than Jesus calling this emotional fraught woman a dirty word behind closed doors.

This Syrophoenician woman was someone from outside Jesus’ own group. She was not a Jew like Jesus. The words he spoke can at best be seen as offensive and at worst can be read as racist. How we hear, interpret, and respond to this is all the more complicated by the fact that today is a Sunday set aside by our friends in the African Methodist Episcopal Church and adopted by our Church leadership to confront racial prejudice. This is a day being called End Racism Sunday. Yet, how do we do this when we hear Jesus saying about another group of people, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”?

It can be easy for us to retroactively defend Jesus by pointing to the almost universal tendency to stick with one’s own tribe. Still his words cut through this not so sturdy defense. More helpful in understanding what Jesus said is our heartfelt belief that he came to be a light for all people. The one we, as Gentiles, call our Savior was a Jewish man who came to expand the Chosen People of God from a select group of the Abrahamic Covenant to all those for whom Christ’s blood was shed. Even through our Faith in Christ the words he spoke to this Gentile woman nag at us. We cannot hide from the offensiveness of what Jesus said, especially today we must confront these words and learn from Jesus’ interaction with someone completely different from him.

In this story Jesus was in a foreign land. Traveling from work done in the overwhelmingly Jewish area of Galilee to Tyre, a place that was practically pagan. He was attempting to find a quiet place, but was immediately interrupted by one who should not even know who Jesus was. We can, I believe, all relate to the annoying feeling of someone pestering us when all we want is to have a moment alone. Despite the interruption Jesus listened. We do not know what she said, but we know she knelt before him and begged for her daughter’s healing. The humility did not strike Jesus, in fact, he became annoyed with her, comparing her people to dogs. What transformed this interaction was her boldness.

She did not get offended, melt into tears, or walk away when called a dog. The woman took the hurtful words, accepted them, and spoke something that demanded Jesus’ attention: even the dogs eat at God’s table. God’s overabundance goes beyond the Chosen People to all people, even the ones considered dogs. Jesus healed the woman’s daughter, as he heard the audacity of this brave one.
If we are to live as God intends us to live, we cannot speak from places of racial discrimination (not behind closed doors, not in jokes, not anywhere), but we must follow Jesus’ lead. Not in what he said, but in what he did. Jesus had a conversation with someone outside his own group. When he put his foot in his mouth, he was called out on it, and he did not deny his words. Furthermore, he sought healing in this relationship and with future generations of this family. What is more he went on to heal another person, which informs us more about this first miracle.

A man who could not speak or could not hear was brought to Jesus. Jesus did not only seek healing for this man, but I believe he also sought healing for himself. Jesus’ own ears and mouth, his heart and mind were opened by the Syrophoenician woman. Jesus connected back to the confrontation with her, as he took the deaf man aside, sighed, and said, “Ephphatha!” that is “Be opened!”
Be opened! That is what Jesus said to this man and to himself, and it’s what he models for us. Be opened! Open to those who are different than you. Be open to what they say. Be open to their reality being different because of the color of their skin. Be open to the possibility that you have been deaf and dumb. Be open when you say something offensive, so that you can own it, learn from it, and seek healing.

Today we intend to End Racism, but to do so we must recognize our own role in it. In a moment we will confess our sins to God and ask for forgiveness, and in the light of reconciliation Jesus shows us a path to walk: All of us are God’s chosen people not by what we do, but by God’s love for us; as God’s children we are called to speak with those who look different, listen to them, when we speak hurtfully we must seek healing and reconciliation; do not be deaf and dumb, but be opened. Ephphatha, that is be opened!

The Martyrs of New Guinea and the Call to Lay Down Our Lives for Christ

Last Fall I went up to Sewanee to visit one of my best friends. He was in town from Boston so that he could see his family and a few friends. There was a big dinner party that night, and even without my collar on conversation around me quickly turned to religious matters, spiritual questions, and social justice issues. Most of the time I love discussing all of these matters, but as one who spends much of my business hours conversing on such issues, I was hoping to talk about playoff baseball, autumn leaves, or reminisce of days as a student there. I had no such luck.

One party-goer, a long-time Episcopalian and life-long Christian said she had been going to the Rite I service that her church in Sewanee had recently been offering. With a look of disgust she said to me, “What’s with all the blood? I mean is it necessary that we talk about Jesus’ blood all the time?” Half a drink this very compassionate follower of Jesus confided that she was struggling with the importance of Jesus’ death. Why did Jesus have to die? And on a day when we remember the Martyrs of New Guinea why do others have to die or why do they choose to die so that they can follow Jesus?

Many times in seminary we talked about various theories about why it was that Jesus died. We who are sinful were being ransomed from the debt that we owed to God. This was one theory for which I did not particularly care. God does not love what God created? How could this be when we know God made all things good and gave grace even when removing Adam and Eve from Eden? Another theory says that the Devil has our sinful souls in his grip and Jesus came to free us from that torturous fate. While I certainly believe there are forces of evil at work in this world, and ones beyond our control or comprehension, I am uncertain of the validity of this claim. So why did Jesus have to die? Why was his blood shed? How come others choose to succumb to a violent end themselves?

Throughout the history of Creation God has poured out his love upon Creation. We begin Eucharistic Prayer A by saying “Holy and Gracious Father in your infinite love you made us for yourself.” God made us because of the overabundance of the love shared between and among Father, Son, and Spirit. That love overran (intentionally) the persons of the Trinity and blossomed into Creation! When we as humans have tried to stray God has been present every step of the way ushering us back into that love from which we began. Although we continued to rebel and seek our own way adopting the same sin as our first parents, God was there every step of the way eventually going so far as to send the clearest example of that love. Fully divine, fully human Jesus chose to love us by the way that he lived, moved, and had his being on this earth.

His message of love and inclusion was too radical for his day and could not be accepted. But rather than shying away from that resistance Jesus chose to love us fully human people even through a bloody, gruesome death. When I heard this woman’s questions a year ago I could not articulate exactly why it was so important that Jesus’ blood be shed. I am still not certain that was the only way that God could save us from our sinful ways. Still what happened on the Cross was a shockwave that still reverberates to this day.

During World War II the Christian people of New Guinea were persecuted by Japanese invaders. They were tortured and killed. And yet they endured. Today there are followers of Christ who are persecuted for what they believe around this globe. There are also other innocent people of many different faiths who are killed unjustly. The blood that Jesus shed was shed for all not to gross us out or to pay off a debt to God, but rather so that we might experience in our hearts once for all that nothing not death, not persecution, not the act of any human being, religion, or government can separate us from the love that God has for each and every one of us.

We too are called to lay down our lives to follow God and to share in God’s love. The way that we practice our martyrdom happens when we come to church and neglect what we would otherwise be doing. It happens when we give up watching TV or a great book to go see someone who is stuck in the hospital. We are martyrs when we give up what we want to do and instead follow the voice of Christ calling us into love. Love is where we started, it is where we are going, and it is what we are called to do by God every day that we live!

Go Sell Everything?

Some people want to get literal about the Bible except when it comes to gluttony and fiances!

This sermon is inspired by the Gospel story from Mark 10:17-31.

Sermon audio can be found here.

Just over a week ago I got engaged to be married (WAHOO!!!). This, at least to me, is very good news. My pending nuptials have since occupied my thoughts: Where will we get married? How much money do we want to spend on this celebration? Who all can we invite? These and many other questions have been swirling around in my mind. I usually sleep like a log at night, but this week I have been more restless. All of these questions have produced a bit of anxiety, but I take it as a good sign; I am taking this next step seriously. Admittedly though, I have a hard time not relating everything back to getting married, even today’s Scripture from Mark comes back to this life-changing event.

Kim and I are not uprooting our lives today, but things will certainly be different for us in the coming months. While I may not sell all my possessions, I know that the days of living in my bachelor pad are now numbered. We both live our lives as followers of Jesus, but the way we walk with Christ will be different as we join together as a married couple. This is all very good, but like any big step into the future (going to college, buying a house, moving jobs, getting a prognosis, confronting a loved one about addiction, etc.) it is not without its share of sorrow and sleepless nights. We may respond to these transitions like the man from today’s gospel story with shock and grief.

Scholars differ in how they interpret the departure of this man, who is a “ruler” in Luke’s account and “young” in Matthew’s account of the good news. Does the “rich, young ruler” walk away devastated because he does not want to get rid of what he has or is he grief-stricken as a result of letting go of everything that he owns? I tend to lean towards the sorrow stemming from having to let go of those possessions, so that he can follow Jesus. The things we own eventually own us too!

On the day of Kim and my first date my soon-to-be-in-laws did something very strange. They sold their home, the place where Kim and her brother spent their formative years, and bought a motor home. They sold most of what they owned and put some family keepsakes in storage and have since traveled across the United States and beyond. I did not know them before this moment in their lives, but even since getting to know them I have recognized a shift. They are different than they were over two years ago. I sense that there is freedom in not being tied down by a mortgage, four walls, and all that adorns the houses we call home. So what do we just sell everything we own and move into RVs? Maybe.

Younger generations are taking part in a movement to live in tiny homes, with tiny environmental footprints and less of a financial impact on their lives. Somehow though I don’t think that is Jesus’ message from today’s gospel. A friend of mine said recently, “Everyone wants to be a Biblical literalist except when it comes to gluttony, then they ignore those words and stuff their faces at Ryan’s.” I have a similar sensation when hearing Jesus speak about financial matters.

Jesus says directly to sell all that this man owns and give the money to the poor, then to follow him. This is not an analogy or parable. We are consumed by the consumerism in which we participate. We are possessed by our possessions. Where our treasure is there is our heart also. It is not that we are “bad” if we have possessions, it is that those things that possess us also distract us from fully following Jesus. Do we sell it all? Maybe not right away, maybe not all at once, but remember we cannot take it with us when we go.

The intention of our lives is not to live without possessions, for that can all too quickly turn into a type of competitive spirituality. There have been monks throughout the years who take on one another in this type of asceticism. It is as dangerous as the isolation that comes from a certain type of wealth. Rather, our intention is to follow Jesus and whatever gets in the way of this relationship must be sacrificed, whether it is a possession, an addiction, or even someone who is a stumbling block to us.

It might seem impossible for us to get rid of all of these things and that is because it is. “Then who can be saved? Who can enter into the Kingdom of God on her own? Who can earn, achieve, or possess his way inside?” “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”

This is the very best news of all.