Saturday, March 26, 2022

Fourth Sunday in Lent Yr C March 27 2022



Fourth Sunday in Lent Yr C March 27 2022

Joshua 5:9-12, 2 Corinthians 5:16-21, Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32, Psalm 32

 

The story we have before us, we often call the prodigal son, is a story about how much God wants to keep us, God’s beloveds, under God’s wing. Remember the chicks from last week? This too is a story about God’s grace and love. It’s a story about choosing joy. 

 

A man had two sons.... was a common way to begin a parable. There are other parables in the Hebrew tradition that begin this way, not just the one we have in front of us today. When the gospel writers begin in this way, you and I are clued in right away to the type of prose we will hear. A parable is a particular form of prose. Although it is like narrative, it is not exactly narrative, it doesn’t tell a story in a straightforward sort of way, although it is definitely part of the bigger story. The purpose of a parable is to surprise you, even to shock you. Jesus often says something outrageous, or tells about something that doesn’t seem on the surface to make much sense. We also know a parable when we hear one because it tells us something about Kingdom living.

 

This particular parable is quite familiar. We tend to name it, label it, and then stop listening, because we think we already know what it’s about. We’ll jump straight to the place of deciding that this is about the younger son who has squandered all of his inheritance and has been bad, we even identify with the younger son and we are quick to label ourselves or people in our lives as prodigal son. But if we make that jump too quickly, we will miss so much that is surprising in this parable. First of all, we miss what prodigal means. Prodigal means exuberant and lavish, excessive and extravagant. Prodigal describes the son because he has been extravagant in spending his inheritance. Prodigal also describes the father because he is extravagant in his love toward both his sons. The younger son was extravagant in his spending and ended up in the worst possible position of shame and brought shame on his family as well. And Secondly if we jump too quickly to labeling the prodigal son, we’ll miss the joy, we’ll hear more about that in a minute.

 

Maybe we jump too quickly to identifying with the older son. The one who followed all the rules, the one who understood duty to family and responsibility. The one who worked hard all his life only to have his little brother get the big party after having squandered everything and living hard and fast. He was the one who really wished that rewards should go to only those who earn them. The one who at his very worst moments envies his younger brother for all the fun and excitement he had and that the older brother missed out on. The one who is mad at his father for even acknowledging the younger son was still alive, after all that he had done. This one fails to recognize that the father is always on his side and he need not earn his father’s approval. 

 

Maybe we even jump too quickly to identifying with the father. The father who raised his kids as best he could and who now has to put up with an older one who doesn’t know how good he’s got it, and a younger one who takes advantage of everyone and everything. This father’s behavior is shocking. First, he runs out to meet the son who left and squandered everything, giving up all semblance of honor that he may have had left by this time. Then, when the elder son chews out his father in the totally immediate and full view of all gathered to celebrate, the father once more responds graciously, saying even in front of the whole village that the kind of father he is must celebrate and rejoice when the lost are found. The father of the parable celebrates every measure of resurrection, of life from death, without pausing to judge whether the one given life deserved it, or what the consequences are for village or cosmic justice, or even how the loyal will respond. He just hopes that everyone will rejoice, everyone will choose joy.

 

So all of this is true and we’ve got both these brothers inside us. The responsible one and the prodigal one. The one who always followed all the rules, and the one who is or at the least wants to be exuberant and lavish. It is an uneasy coexistence made harder by the reality that none of these people is perfect, and that all of them make real mistakes, just like we do. This is where I think the truth of this parable is, we are imperfect people, perfectly loved by a God who freely chooses us. God continually chooses God’s people even when we have apparently wandered far away. God continually chooses you, and me, God continually loves us, in the glory of our imperfect, broken, lives. Not because we deserve God’s love, or that we’ve earned God’s love, but because that is who God is. 

 

I began today with one of the markers of a parable, they tell us about the Kingdom of God. Many parables begin with these words; the Kingdom of God is like... You see, the surprise and the shock of this parable is that the Kingdom of God is like abundant grace for all God’s creation, freely given. 

 

The surprise and shock of this parable is that we are recipients of the grace the father lavishes upon us, broken though we are. And we are being invited to come to ourselves, to arise in truthfulness, and return, repent, recommit to a life that is joyful, we are invited to rejoice with all of the characters in this story. 

 

But it’s hard, isn’t it. It’s hard to really believe that God invites us to the party and wants us to come. We see the pain of the world around us, we feel pain and maybe unworthiness in ourselves. But this parable invites us to choose joy, to live in God’s exuberance, God’s abundance, God’s grace, God’s love. This parable invites us to rise up, put our hands in the air, dance and sing, even in Lent. 

Saturday, March 19, 2022

Third Sunday in Lent Yr C March 20 2022




Third Sunday in Lent Yr C March 20 2022

Exodus 3:1-15, 1 Corinthians 10:1-13, Luke 13:1-9, Psalm 63:1-8

 

Here we are at the third week of Lent. We’ve journeyed this far with Jesus through the wilderness and heard the devil try to seduce Jesus to take power for himself, rather than to trust in God. We’ve heard the words of God’s love for all of us, love like that of a mother hen for her chicks. And today we hear in Luke a very clear call to repentance. This is a moment of discernment, a place of repentance. The story of the fig tree shows us that our time is short, we have one last chance to put things right. This story tells us to use the time we have to follow Jesus and live lives characterized by fruitfulness. 

 

Lent is a time to consider repentance. In this passage, we are confronted with the truth of repentance. Repentance is to live a life of transformed perspective; it is embracing God’s perspective and that changes how we live in the world, it changes the choices we make, it changes the way we look at people. And God’s call to us is to live full of fruitfulness. 

 

You and I both know that life is fragile, the time we have is precious. What do we do when time is precious? All of this is contained in the readings we have before us today. This fig tree hasn’t produced fruit for three years, and it’s really time to cut it down. It is wasting water and soil and the grove keeper’s time. But instead of cutting it down, it’s been given a reprieve, another chance. 

 

We are given another chance. We are given a chance in which we discover the grace that prompts the possibility of repentance. You see, repentance is an act of mercy. We repent, we turn, not out of fear of God’s judgement, but because of God’s grace. We repent and return not because of fear, but because of grace. 

 

The sports world is in the middle of March Madness, the church world is in the middle of Lent and our own Lent Madness. These two priorities point out a similar reality. The Season of Lent is a time that helps us to understand the importance of falling down and rising up. Not unlike March Madness, or at least one of those very important lessons we learn when we are athletes or performers. Basketball or football or swimming or walking or yoga or whatever we do, when we are knocked down, we get back up, we practice or we rehearse, and we rise to the challenge. 

 

Lent teaches us the reality that we will fall down. We will get hurt, we will be in pain, we will suffer. And that is an opportunity to decide who we will be and what we will believe and how we will respond. As people of faith, we get up when we fall because we are a people of hope, we accept the descent as the invitation to rise again. This is repentance. 

 

You see, there is no assurance that a life of faith is without difficulties. What is promised is that we can rise up, we will rise up. God is not an impersonal executive giving orders from on high; God is present help every step of the way we travel. Lent is this journey that shows us that life is not a level path, or an easy route where growth is predictable and progress is comfortable. It is messy, meandering, awkward, with stops and starts. We all know well that life is fragile. When we fall down, we rise up. When we fall onto our knees in desperate prayer, we rise up in thanksgiving that we can. None of the things that happen to us, none of the troubles we encounter, have any power to get between us and God. God is relentless in God’s pursuit of us, God’s beloveds. 

 

The Season of Lent calls us to a time of discernment, a time to transform our perspective and embrace God’s perspective. Embracing God’s perspective changes how we live in the world. That change is characterized by love, mercy, justice, hope. Our time on earth is short, and we have this chance to put things right. We have this chance to love and to forgive. We have this chance to rise up. 

 

That is what this story of the fig tree presents to us today. A chance. No matter what words we use to illustrate what is happening in this story, judgement, repentance, charity, grace, it’s another chance. That’s what God gives us, another chance. According to the grove keeper, this fig tree has had plenty of chances, it should be cut down to make way for a better, more productive tree. 

 

Isn’t that the way the world treats us much of the time? You must be a productive member of society to be valued. You must be successful to be important. You must behave. There’s not a lot of room in our world for failure, three strikes and you’re out. But there is no failure in God’s kingdom. That is the scandal of the cross. The world, or at least the empire, looked at Jesus on that cross as failure, wagging their fingers at him and saying, see, we told you so. You can’t eat with sinners and outcasts Jesus. You can’t scatter the proud in their conceit and bring down the powerful from their thrones. You can’t fill the hungry with good things and send the rich away empty. You can’t welcome all at your table, you can’t welcome people who are not like us. You can’t do these things and expect to live. 

 

But Jesus’s witness tells a very different story. Jesus’s witness on that very cross is to lift up those who have been beaten down by well-meaning folks. Jesus’ witness on that very cross is to include those who have been tossed out by well meaning folks. Jesus’ witness on that very cross is to rise up. 

 

And with Jesus we get another chance. Every time we fall into the muck and mess Jesus reaches out and helps us to rise up. And Jesus says, “I will raise you up on eagles' wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you to shine like the sun, and hold you in the palm of my hand.” Every time. 

 

Rise up, take this chance, bear fruit. Repent and return. Be forgiven. The fruit you are to bear is the fruit of love, the fruit of mercy. Your time is precious, your life is fragile. You have this chance. What will you do with it? 

Saturday, March 12, 2022

Second Sunday in Lent Yr C March 13 2022


Second Sunday in Lent Yr C March 13 2022

Genesis 15:1-12,17-18, Philippians 3:17-4:1, Luke 13:31-35, Psalm 27

 

All of Luke’s gospel is seen and heard through the lens of its beginning, Mary’s song, the Magnificat, “he has scattered the proud in their conceit, cast down the mighty from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly.” And then Luke points us to God’s fulfillment of all things. Everything in between and along the way reminds us that God is coming to rule in peace and justice. So, it isn’t much of a surprise that in Luke’s gospel, Jesus’ ministry attracts opposition. In this piece of Luke we have today, the Pharisees warn Jesus of Herod’s opposition, and Jesus replies, “go and tell that fox for me, I am about the work upending the powerful, and including those unclean and those on the margins.” No wonder Jesus attracted opposition.

 

Jesus laments those who do not hear, those who do not follow, those who will not be gathered and protected as a hen protects her brood. I think Jesus sounds a bit petulant, irritated, ill-tempered because what for him seems obvious, is not so to the others. Because the way things are, the status quo, benefits the mighty on their thrones, but not those with whom Jesus lives and breathes and has his being. Jesus attracts the opposition because he understands his work to fill the hungry with good things.  And for all of that, Herod, that fox, wants to kill him.

 

So Luke’s gospel, from Mary’s song all the way to the passion shows us what Jesus’ journey to the cross looks like, and what our journey with Jesus looks like. It shows us that not just Lent but our whole lives matter because this journey both witnesses to and is empowered by the love of a God who will not give up on God’s people. Ever. And it’s amazing to think that in the small and large things we do out of love, the God who created the heavens and earth from nothing and raised Jesus’ from death is still at work in us and through us for the sake of the world.

 

All that said, I can hear Obi Wan Kenobi say to Luke Skywalker as they begin their journey together, “Luke, it is your destiny.” Jesus’ destiny is the cross in Jerusalem, as well as the resurrection and ascension to come. Jesus sets his face to Jerusalem as he leaves the devil in the wilderness, and the journey Jesus takes is a long and winding road. Given the opposition Jesus experiences the whole of the journey, Jesus shows some mighty determination and perseverance on this way, because there’s no way you can utter the words of Mary’s song, there’s no way you can preach a sermon like Jesus did in Nazareth, remember that one, Jesus said the scripture was fulfilled in their hearing and they wanted to throw him over the cliff, and expect acceptance or a world-viewed happy ending.

 

The trouble for us is that our human nature often causes us to give up or give in to difficulty, or pain, or sorrow. The trouble is that we humans fail. And we let the difficulties and the challenges of what lies ahead to redirect our intentions. Of course, this is not to suggest that we could ever do what Jesus did. Only Jesus could and can go to the cross. To be clear, the ability of Jesus to shoulder what was to come his way is not ours to bear. And it never will be. But Jesus’ determination on the way shows us, maybe even makes it possible for us to continue on our way, to rise up after we’ve fallen, with similar determination and perseverance.

 

God is at work with Jesus, and God is at work with you and through you. What gets in the way of our good intentions? What knocks us off the path, what causes us to fall into the muck and mess of life? What is it that diverts our attention away from mercy and justice and the way of love? Often the wills and ways of the world knock us down, throw us off the path. Often it is of our own doing, we tend to sabotage ourselves. We set ourselves up for failure when we expect perfection of ourselves.

 

But it’s also the great violence of human beings. We are living through this time when we say to ourselves, “I didn’t think it could get any worse, and it just got worse.” Inflation, climate change, the war in Ukraine, the global pandemic… It’s hard to keep loving when over and over, again and again, we hear news of drive by shootings, a nation attacking another nation. And the great violence of our natural world, fanned by our own human failure to change the way we treat this fragile earth our island home, we witness and experience wind, snow, floods.

 

But the good news remains. Even in the midst of pain and suffering, Jesus walks with us. God doesn’t take away the pain and suffering, but God comes in flesh and blood, to show us what love looks like. And in this passage, Jesus’ use of the mother hen image is a wonderful reminder of God’s love for all of us. It expands our imaginations. It is a mother’s love that is revealed here and indeed it brings us back to Mary’s song.

 

But it is also a love that might seem unjustified. Isn’t it true that sometimes we hear ourselves think, and some even say out loud, those people don’t deserve God’s love, that person is a monster, surely he will never be saved. Those people are the people in this story. Jesus was reaching out to those who were known to “kill the prophets and stone those sent to you.” We may say they were unworthy of Jesus' love, that they didn’t deserve it. And the truth be known, they didn’t deserve it, none of us deserve it. But that is the truth of God's kingdom, it is not about what we deserve, or what we don’t deserve.

 

No one deserves to die violently at the hands of another. No one deserves to have their home destroyed by tornado or snow hurricanes. This is never about what we deserve or don’t deserve. None of us deserve God's amazing and abundant love. And yet, Jesus.

 

This journey of Lent calls us to intentionally walk this way of love. And that matters. As you live and breathe in all the places you go, work, school, be the one who loves, be the one who brings mercy. Be the one who looks for joy, be the one who prays for peace. 

 

Sometimes the strength within you is not a big fiery flame for all to see, it is a tiny spark that whispers ever so softly; you got this, keep going, keep loving, keep rising. Amen.

Saturday, March 5, 2022

1 Lent Yr C March 6 2022


1 Lent Yr C March 6 2022

Deuteronomy 26:1-11, Romans 10:8b-13, Luke 4:1-13, Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16

 

So he stands by the refrigerator, with the door open, looking inside, and says, I'm starving, there's nothing to eat. Then he goes to the kitchen cupboard, opens the door, and declares again, I'm starving, there's nothing to eat. I go to the grocery store, stock up on everything I think he likes to eat, get it all home, and there's still nothing to eat. He eats a delicious meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and an hour later says, I'm starving, what is there to eat. Some of you have been there done that, for others, if you don't know what that's like yet, you will. 

 

And then there's that late afternoon grumbling in your tummy, and if you go too long you get a little light headed and maybe even ornery. These days we call it hangry. What luxury we live in, most of us is pretty sure we won't go for more than a few hours before our next meal. What a bunch of first world problems.

 

In this story, Jesus has been in the wilderness for a very long time, and I would imagine he is hungry, tired, stinky, and snarky. Forty days is significant as it is a signal to us of the forty years that the Israelites wandered in the wilderness. Remember that story? Moses led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, and in the wilderness they began to distrust Moses, they began to distrust God, they began to whine about the food, the living conditions, the weather. But who wouldn't, right? After forty years and another generation, who wouldn't lose hope? After years of oppression, who wouldn't lose hope? After years of being mistreated, who wouldn't lose hope? 

 

That's what The Devil is counting on in this story from Luke. The Devil is counting on Jesus having lost hope and trust in God. The Devil is counting on Jesus believing that God just does not care. Each one of the suggestions The Devil has for Jesus names the temptation to give up on God, to come to believe that God is not sufficient to meet one's needs. It's not really about right and wrong, Jesus' decisions are not really black and white. So while Jesus is incredibly hungry, even if he had some survival skills, eating bugs for forty days, one would think he's ready to deal. The Devil says to Jesus, just have something to eat, you know how hungry you are. Which one of us wouldn't want a good loaf of bread? Then The Devil says to Jesus, you can have all the power and authority in the world, just think what you could do with that. This could all be yours. Just think what good you could do with it. And lastly, after The Devil may be getting somewhat frustrated, he says to Jesus, just test that God of yours now, just see if he'll whisk you out of death if you throw yourself off this cliff. 

 

You see, The Devil's proposals are just like the promises of the world, and they look so attractive. You will be filled and fulfilled, you will have power and prestige, you will have immensity and immortality. It is so seductive. It is so tempting. We don't even know it's happening. But when the pills, or the promiscuity, or the power, don't deliver the goods, we tend to continue to look further for fulfillment by increasing the frenetic pace of finding something that will make us happy. It is that inferno into which our hopes, our happiness, our joy, get sucked. Thus, the expression, it sucks. The Devil counts on us giving up too, the Devil counts on us losing hope, and we may be so caught in the cycle of trying to make ourselves happy, that we give up on hope and joy without ever knowing we've given up.

 

But, even when we give up hope, even when we give up on God, even when we give in to the glitter and glitz the world offers us, God never gives up on us. Love does indeed win. That's what so amazing about God. No matter what, God does not give up on us. That is what this story is about, that is what this story we hear all the way through Lent tells us. It's not an easy story to hear, there's heartbreak and death on the way to the cross, and on the cross, but there's also forgiveness, healing, and new life. 

 

We already know that Jesus is a good Jew, he knows his bible well, and in those scriptures, Jesus hears God's love, he hears hope and healing and health. You see, this thing we do with God is not transactional. Though we do want it to be that way. God, if you pull me out of this mess I've gotten myself into, I will be a better person, I will go to church every Sunday. But isn't that the very same thing The Devil is doing? 

 

This thing God does with creation is not transactional, it is relational. The Devil wants us to think it's transactional, that it's about bargaining with God. That's where those temptations from The Devil come from. The Devil says to Jesus, if you turn these stones into bread, if you take this power and authority, if you jump off this cliff, then I will give this all to you. With The Devil it is transactional, with God it is relational, and at the center of that relationship is the Love that wins. 

  

The relationship calls us to turn away from or set aside or leave behind all that is killing us and turn back to God. As we hear that call, and as we set aside the stuff that gets in our way, as we lay down our own heartbreak, and as we fall to our knees, we realize we are already forgiven. We realize Love and Hope and Joy have never been absent from us, we've just had our backs turned, we've had our hearts hardened. We realize that we are washed in the reality and love of God.

 

And as we begin to live the new life that is given, it dawns on us that we must respond to God's love. It dawns on us that there is pain and suffering and injustice in our world, and the new life that is God's gift really isn't about any one of us anyway. 

 

God’s intention for us is to be in relationship, in love, with Jesus. How can you be intentional in following the way of Love this Lent? We can respond to God's love with prayer, we listen to God and God's movement in our lives. That's what relationship is all about. We can respond to God's love by fasting from that which keeps the relationship from flourishing. We can respond to God's love by giving our love, our wealth, our time. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that give life to our relationship with God. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that enact God's love, God's justice, in our world. Prayer, fasting, almsgiving are ancient practices that remind us that God always has hope and faith in us. 

 

The good news is that Jesus has already walked this way, through the wilderness and to the cross. The good news is that Jesus does not succumb to the seduction of power. Instead, Jesus puts himself in between the powers of hate and shows makes love real. Amen.

 

Thursday, March 3, 2022

Ash Wednesday 2022




Ash Wednesday 2022

Isaiah 58:1-12, 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10, 

Matthew 6:1-6,16-21, Psalm 103

 

Just as Advent is the beginning of the New Year, Ash Wednesday and Lent are the beginning of our new life. I think we have a deep desire to start over, to begin again, to turn to God and take a deep, refreshing breath of new life, and to say, here I am Lord, I have heard you calling in the night. Today we are marked with the ashes that remind us of who we are, and whose we are. We are God’s beloved, at our baptism we are marked and claimed as God’s own children, forever. Today we retrace that indelible mark with these ashes, this dust. We are reminded that we don’t get out of this live alive, we are dust, and to dust we shall return. These ashes remind us that God is God, and we are not. These ashes remind us that we are chosen and marked by God’s love, delight of God’s life.

 

This is an opportunity and our call. We present ourselves to God, just as we are, confident in the promise of starting over. Ash Wednesday, and all of Lent are an opportunity. An opportunity to put all our attention toward the Gospel call to love as Christ loves. Ash Wednesday and Lent are an opportunity to examine ourselves and find where we miss the mark of that love. Ash Wednesday particularly is an opportunity to come to our senses, to be reminded of who and whose we are, to start over, to loosen our heart’s grip on the things that separate us from the love of God and from our siblings. Ash Wednesday is an opportunity to do that which is described in our gospel reading, to give alms, to pray, and to fast.

 

Far from being a sad story, this is a story filled with hope. It is a story filled with forgiveness. It is a reminder that forgiveness isn’t a one-time deal, forgiveness is every day. This kind of forgiveness doesn’t assign shame or hold a grudge. This kind of forgiveness holds our souls in compassion, this kind of forgiveness heals us and frees us. 

 

Forgiveness is not a single act, but a matter of constant practice. Turning away from all that distracts us from God and God’s love for us, takes constant practice also. We often fall off the shoulder of the road and into the ditch on this journey, and in that ditch, life seems much darker. But we have been marked as Christ’s own forever. 

 

On this day, we recognize our tendency to sin. We recognize our wretchedness, a word that is hard to hear about ourselves, but a word that describes our tendency to fall in the muck and the mess of live, and sometimes even wallow in it. But we are not left there to fend for ourselves. We come to this place of dust again and again. We come because this is the beginning and the end. We come because this is creation, and this is love. We come because our memories are so short, aren’t they? We so quickly forget about the love that brings us to this day of dust. The love of God in creation, the love that gives up everything for us.

 

Lent is an opportunity. This journey we begin today shows us what true love looks like. It shows us that God’s heart’s desire is to be with us not only when times are rosy, but also and maybe especially when it seems like our brokenness and vulnerably will get the best of us. God’s love creates us and blesses us and puts us back together when we have disintegrated into the dust. When it seems like we will fall apart into the dust of which we are made, God is there to raise us up, and make us anew. 

 

I encourage you to take this lent opportunity and be intentional. Lent is traditionally a time of prayer and fasting. How can you be intentional about your prayer? There are many ways here at the church. Come to bible study, or come to Wednesday night soup suppers, or come after church on Sundays for coffee and conversation. Each of these is an opportunity to be in prayer with one another. And be intentional about your prayer at home. 

 

Especially in these chaotic times, find a place for quiet, open your prayer book, or the app on your phone, or join us at 10 each day, and pray morning prayer, “O Lord open our lips, and our mouth shall proclaim your praise.” Or evening prayer or compline, “guide us waking o lord, and guard us sleeping, that awake we may watch with Christ, and asleep we may rest in peace.” Make space in your heart, and your mind, and your soul, for Jesus to show up.

 

How can you be intentional about fasting? When I was a little catholic girl, like many of you, Friday fasting during lent was an ordeal. Today I would like for you to consider what it is that you may need or want to fast from. What is it that is making you anxious? or annoyed? mad? sad? Do you want to put your phone down for an hour each day, and fast from the news? Do you want to fast from the cacophony of noise and sit in the silence for some time each day? Do you want to fast from food that consumes you, and give some away for another to consume? 

 

And that brings us to hope, this day is a day of hope. This dust that we mark our foreheads with today is the burnt palms of Palm Sunday, the palms we wave in triumph as Jesus enters the city of Jerusalem. This dust gives us hope. The story we stake our lives on is the story of resurrection, and resurrection is always preceded by pain, and suffering, and death. Soon enough we will be walking with Jesus to the cross, soon enough. God loves us so very much, that God puts Godself in our place, wraps us in love, and gives us new life, life that we cannot even begin to imagine. Hope is God’s dream for us, that we may walk a journey on this earth, of intention. Love, compassion, prayer, forgiveness, we are given this opportunity of Lent to practice these intentions. 

 

How will you practice love this Lent?

How will you practice compassion this Lent?

How will you practice prayer this Lent?

How will you practice forgiveness this Lent?

Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Yr B, Proper 27, Nov 10 2024, St. M and M, Eagan MN

Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Yr B, Proper 27, Nov 10 2024, St. M and M, Eagan MN 1 Kings 17:8-16, Psalm 146, Hebrews 9:24-28, Mark 1...