Month: March 2026

What the Lord Needs

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “What the Lord Needs” Matthew 21:1-11

Disciples have been seeking to discern what the Lord needs for centuries. It started with those four fishermen—Peter, Andrew, James, and John. There they were, tending their nets on the shore of Galilee when Jesus came along with his invitation, “Follow me.” According to Matthew’s gospel, they immediately discerned that what was needed was some radical obedience. They left their nets and old Zebedee behind and followed Jesus, all the way from Capernaum to that first Palm Sunday parade in Jerusalem.

Born in 1875, Albert Schweitzer hailed from that German-speaking area of France—Alsace Lorraine. He was a pastor’s kid and a prodigious talent from an early age. He was a remarkable musician, skilled in both playing and building pipe organs. He was also an outstanding student, earning doctorates in both theology and philosophy. It looked like Schweitzer would follow in his father’s footsteps in Alsace, but in 1904, he saw a pamphlet from a missionary society, seeking clergy to serve in Africa. This, Schweizer perceived, was what the Lord needed of him.

Not unlike the late Dr. Schweitzer, Tyler and Rochelle Holm are contemporary mission workers. Their calling to Africa began as church members, participating in short-term mission trips to the Synod of Livingstonia, Malawi. There, where one minister might serve 6,000 congregants, Tyler saw a church deeply in need of pastors. Rochelle saw the desperate need for clean water and improved sanitation. They wondered, could our short-term commitment become a long-term one? This, they concluded, was what the Lord needed of them.

The Lord would need many things during that Holy Week in Jerusalem. The first order of business was a donkey, a Jenny with a colt in tow would fulfill his plans perfectly. In his entrance to the holy city, Jesus wanted to send a message about the kind of king he was and the kingdom he represented. Jesus would embody the messianic hopes of the Prophet Zechariah, who envisioned God’s king riding into Jerusalem astride a donkey to bring an end to war and establish peace for the nations. On Palm Sunday, Jesus astride a donkey was the Prince of Peace, who would lead the people in paths of peace.

Jesus needed two disciples to go get the donkey and colt. We can imagine that request didn’t go over well. A donkey was a valued piece of property, needed for transport and farmwork. This donkey had a dependent colt, a youngster still in need of mother’s milk. I imagine there was hesitancy and shuffling off feet, some careful rehearsing of what would be said to the donkey’s owner when they came to collect it. “Bring me the donkey,” that was what the Lord needed of them. The donkey’s owner, perhaps knowing Jesus or sensing a leading of the Holy Spirit, complied with their request. The rest was history.

There were other things that Jesus needed that week. Most of those needs would go unmet. Jesus needed the insiders who controlled the temple to recognize his authority and welcome his teachings, but they rejected and planned to arrest him. Jesus needed the loyalty of Judas, but he would sell his rabbi for thirty pieces of silver. Jesus would need his inner circle of Peter, James, and John to watch and pray with him in the garden of Gethsemane, but they slept. Jesus would need his disciples to stand with him in peace when the guards came to arrest him, but some would resort to violence and all would run away. Jesus needed the Sanhedrin to rule with justice, but they chose to condemn him on trumped up charges in a midnight, kangaroo court. Jesus would need Pilate to fear God more than the emperor, but the procurator sent him to the cross.

Indeed, the only ones who provided what Jesus needed that week were the ones with the least power to do anything. Mary of Bethany anointed him in anticipation of his coming death. The women keened and grieved at the cross as the crowds taunted and the soldiers gambled for Jesus’ clothes. A dying criminal acknowledged Jesus’ kingdom, spoke in his defense, and accompanied the Lord in suffering and death. Oh, Jesus, to need so much and to be given so little. It breaks our hearts, as it must have broken yours.

Dorothee Soelle was a German theologian and poet, who taught for a decade at Union Theological Seminary in NYC. Soelle came of age during World War II and was deeply scarred by her experience of war and the inhumanity of the Holocaust. Her family sheltered in their home the Jewish mother of one of Dorothee’s classmates, yet her brother was killed while fighting for Germany on the eastern front. Dorothee developed a radical theology of devotion to God and resistance to evil in the world. She taught that when disciples cultivate a rich spiritual life, steeped in prayer and reflection, we are awakened to God’s will for the world. In other words, it is our spiritual life, our meditation upon the life of Christ, that informs us, here and now, about what Jesus needs.

According to Soelle, Jesus still needs us. In the life of the Spirit, we are pulled into engagement with all that opposes the Kingdom of God. For Soelle, this meant opposing earlier wars in the Middle East, standing with oppressed women, minorities, and children; standing against growing anti-immigrant sentiment; and naming what she called the “New Fascism”—the rise of authoritarian states. Against the advent of these evils, disciples are called to partner with God, proclaiming and seeking God’s Kingdom. As we take action, we dare to hope that God can take our efforts and use them for God’s purpose.

Dorothee put it this way in her poem “When He Came.”

“He needs you

that’s all there is to it

without you he’s left hanging

goes up in Dachau’s smoke

is sugar and spice in the baker’s hands

gets revealed in the next stock market crash

he’s consumed and blown away

used up

without you

Help him

that’s what faith is

he can’t bring it about

his kingdom

couldn’t then couldn’t later can’t now

not at any rate without you

and that is his irresistible appeal”

When we step out in response to what Jesus needs, our lives are transformed, even as we seek to nudge this world a little closer to the Kingdom of God. Albert Schweitzer, of course, learned that the missionary society would not send him to Africa as a pastor. He was too radical. Instead, he went back to school and studied medicine while his wife Helene trained as a nurse. They knew the Lord needed them. In 1913, they arrived at the mission station of Andende near Lambaréné. Their first “surgery” was set up in a former chicken coop. As the days passed, more and more men, women, and children came for treatment. Schweitzer fundraised across Europe and the United States to build the state-of-the-art Lambaréné Hospital, which is still operating in Gabon. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1952.

Tyler and Rochelle Holm married in 2006 and went to Malawi as mission workers in 2007. Tyler puts his training as a pastor and scholar to work by teaching in the seminary of the University of Livingstonia. What began under Tyler’s leadership as a certificate program to equip lay people to lead in churches he has developed into a Master’s degree program. He is currently training about 200 Malawians to pastor churches desperately in need of leadership. Rochelle Holm uses her graduate training in public health to work in managing the University of Mzuzu’s Water and Sanitation Centre of Excellence. She is passionate about providing clean water and sanitation in northern Malawi and beyond, especially in tending to the particular needs of those who live with disabilities. A few years into their itinerancy, the Holms responded to the ubiquitous needs of Malawi’s many orphans by adopting their daughter Mphatso. Tyler and Rochele emphasize that their engagement in Malawi is driven by their sense of Christ’s calling. The Lord needs them.

The theologian and poet Dorothee Soelle died suddenly in 2004. Yet more than two decades later, her theology of piety and resistance speaks powerfully to a world that is once again embroiled in war in the Middle East, the oppression of vulnerable people, the surge in anti-immigrant hate, and the rise of authoritarian states. The Prince of Peace still longs to lead us in paths of peace, just as he did on that first Palm Sunday. Pray hard, Dorothee might counsel us. Pray hard, listen, and act. The Lord needs us.

Resources

Matt Skinner. “Walking the Palm Sunday Path: A Lenten Sermon Series for 2026” in Preaching Series, January 21, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/walking-the-palm-sunday-path-in-lent-a-sermon-series-for-2026

Bill Tesch. “Matthew 21:1–11 – Jesus’s Triumphal Entry” in Preaching Series, Jan. 22, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/palm-sunday-jesuss-triumphal-entry-matthews-version

Michael Kirby. “Pastor Perspective on Matthew 21:1-11” in Feasting on the Gospels, Matthew, vol. 2. Louisville: WJKP, 2013.

Nancy Hawkins. “Dorothee Soelle: Radical Christian, Mystic in Our Midst” in The Way, 44/3 (July 2005), 85-96.

Alois Prinz. “Albert Schweitzer: out of reverence for life” in Deutschland, Aug. 27, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.deutschland.de/en/topic/life/albert-schweitzer-nobel-laureate-gabon

Presbyterian Mission Agency. “Partner with Presbyterian World Mission in Malawi.” Accessed online at https://pma.pcusa.org/site_media/media/uploads/worldmission/malawi_flier_030716.pdf

–. “Whitworth M.A. in Theology alumnus serves in Malawi, Africa” in Whitworth University News, Oct. 17, 2013. Accessed online at https://news.whitworth.edu/2013/10/whitworth-ma-in-theology-alumnus-serves.html

Matthew 21:1-11

21 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” 4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet:

5 “Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
    humble and mounted on a donkey,
        and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; 7 they brought the donkey and the colt and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. 8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,

“Hosanna to the Son of David!
    Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” 11 The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

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The Kingdom of Mercy and Grace

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Kingdom of Mercy and Grace” Luke 23:39-43

Jubilee is a Christian community and working farm set in the beautiful, rolling countryside of Comer, Georgia. For many years, until recent changes in our national immigration policy, the Jubilee partners welcomed refugees to their farm, offering a safe place to land for weary newcomers to our country, many of whom had survived exile and trauma, languishing for years in refugee camps around the world. When I visited Jubilee in 2008, I was drawn to a grove of oaks near the center of the 260-acre property. There, in a quiet clearing, stands a cemetery, a peaceful final resting place for both the residents of Jubilee and the people whom they have ministered to over the years. Robbie Buller, one of the original Jubilee Partners, pointed to a plain grave with a simple marker. “That grave is William “Pop” Campbell,” Robbie said, “He was the very first to be buried here in 1983.”

William “Pop” Campbell had a complicated moral picture. In 1975, Pop killed a smalltown barber near Athens, Georgia in a robbery gone wrong. At the time, Pop insisted that he was innocent. He was just getting his haircut when another man Henry Drake entered the shop and began to beat the barber and demand his money. Pop claimed that he tried his best to intercede, but Drake overpowered him. The jury didn’t buy it. Pop was convicted of murder and landed on death row. Henry Drake, the man Pop accused of the killing, was also convicted. Both men awaited execution by the state of Georgia.

The second thief on Golgotha also had a complicated moral picture. Luke doesn’t tell us much about him, but the teachings of the early church do. According to John Chrysostum, the 4th century Archbishop of Constantinople, the thief’s name was Dismas, a desert bandit, who robbed and killed pilgrims as they traveled to Jerusalem for the Passover. A century later, Pope Gregory the Great taught that Dismas was also a fratricide, guilty of murdering his own brother. On Golgotha, Dismas faced the Roman consequences of his life of thievery and murder: death on a cross.

Dismas and his fellow bandit weren’t the only ones dying on Golgotha that day. Throughout Lent, we have been following Jesus through his final week in Jerusalem. At the start of Lent, when I preached on the Palm Sunday story, I pointed to two radically different kingdoms that would clash in that holy week as the Roman Empire would collide with the Kingdom of God.

Last Sunday, we considered Jesus’ final supper with his friends and the foot-washing lesson he taught them about the prime importance of love and humble service. This Sunday, we encounter Jesus less than twenty-four hours after his object lesson and new commandment that we love one another as he loved us. In those bleak and bitter hours, Jesus was betrayed by Judas, abandoned by his closest disciples, and denied by Peter. The Temple court found him guilty of blasphemy. Pilate condemned him to death on trumped up charges of sedition. Now, Jesus was dying on a cross. Crucifixion was a state-sponsored weapon of terror, a public execution that inflicted excruciating pain in a slow, humiliating death. Above his head hung Jesus’ death sentence in Greek, Hebrew, and Latin, “King of the Jews.”

William “Pop” Campbell learned a lesson in Jesus’ Kingdom from Rev. Murphy Davis. She befriended Pop in her ministry to inmates on death row. She visited him weekly, listening to him and praying with him. In 1981, Pop confessed to Murphy that he lied when he implicated Henry Drake in the crime for which he had been sentenced to death. Pop had invented the story, hoping to muddy the waters, pass the blame, and avoid the death penalty. “What I said were lies,” Pop confessed, “I was the one to kill Mr. Eberhart. Henry wasn’t even there.” When Pop’s lawyer learned of his confession, he was irate. He insisted that Pop renounce his admission of guilt, arguing that it scuttled their chances of a commutation and was a virtual guarantee of death. “I want to do the right thing,” Pops argued back. “What I did was wrong.”

Dismas knew the innocence of Jesus. Dismas also knew his own guilt, as with the hindsight of fast-approaching death he looked back at his long history of thievery and brutality. Jesus didn’t deserve to die, but Dismas did. In the eyes of Rome and in his own eyes, his life of selfish ambition and casual cruelty had landed him on a cross. When the other thief dying on Golgotha began to deride Jesus, Dismas knew it was wrong, just as surely as Pop Campbell knew it was wrong to blame Henry Drake. “We have been condemned justly,” Dismas called out to his criminal colleague, “We are getting what we deserve for our deeds.”

We aren’t Pop Campbell or Dismas, but we know how it feels to have a complicated moral picture. We know the wrong that we have done: the beloved ones that we have failed, the friends we have betrayed, the ethical corners that we have cut, the selfish ambition that we have pursued at another’s expense. We know the good that we have left undone: the times we have refused to help, the occasions when we have turned a blind eye to another’s malfeasance, the good we will not do because the personal cost is just to high, the dirty little secrets that we keep rather than admit our failure. We long to be reconciled with God and with those whom we have hurt. Like Pop and Dismas, we need to believe that there is hope for us—that somehow, despite our wrongs, we can be loved, accepted, forgiven, offered a second chance (or a third or a fourth).

On that lonely hilltop outside Jerusalem, hanging between two criminals, Jesus taught us one last lesson about his Kingdom, even as he was dying at the hands of the empire. Half prayer, half gallows plea, Dismas turned to the Lord and asked “Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom.” In response, Jesus assured him, “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” Dismas didn’t have to recite the long laundry list of his sins. He didn’t need to undertake the journey of a hundred miles on his knees as an act of penance. He didn’t have to recite the Apostles’ Creed. In Jesus’ Kingdom, Dismas was known in all his frailty and loved in his entirety. In Jesus’ Kingdom there is room for Dismas and Pop Cambell. In Jesus’ Kingdom there is room for us. We are known and we are loved. In Jesus’ Kingdom, there is mercy and grace for all who ask.

Pop Campbell died of natural causes in 1983 while awaiting execution. In Georgia, prisoners whose families are too poor to afford funerals and prisoners who do not have kin or friends to receive their bodies are buried on prison grounds with only their state-assigned inmate number to mark their graves. When Robbie Buller of the Jubilee Community heard of what would be done with Pop’s body, he had a better idea. Jubilee had 260 acres of land. Why not welcome Pop to the community? Plans were quickly drawn up, local zoning authorities approved, and Pop came home to a place and a people whom he had not known during his lifetime.

In speaking about the cemetery, Robbie Buller says, “It’s a final hospitality for people who have had trouble finding acceptance anyplace else.” Since Pop’s burial, the graveyard at Jubilee has welcomed five more death row inmates, as well as seven homeless people, fourteen refugees, and the Rev. Murphy Davis, who so kindly visited Pop Campbell on death row all those years ago. Immediately after someone is buried in the Jubilee cemetery, a new grave is hand dug by volunteers. That’s hard work in the red and rocky Georgia clay. A piece of sheet metal roofing and a blue tarp are placed over the hole. A mound of red dirt waits next to the grave, ready to be filled back in. There is always room for more in the Jubilee burying ground. There is always room for more in the Kingdom of mercy and grace.

Resources

Matt Skinner. “Walking the Palm Sunday Path: A Lenten Sermon Series for 2026” in Preaching Series, January 21, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/walking-the-palm-sunday-path-in-lent-a-sermon-series-for-2026

Melva Sampson. “Commentary on Luke 23:39-43” in Preaching Series, Jan. 22, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/sermon-series-jesus-promises-paradise-to-a-victim-of-crucifixion

Craig T. Kocher. “Theological Commentary on Luke 23:32-43” in Feasting on the Gospels, Luke, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Lincoln Galloway. “Homiletical Commentary on Luke 23:32-43” in Feasting on the Gospels, Luke, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Josina Guess. “Folks Ought to Have a Resting Place” in Sojourners, Nov. 2025.

Barry Siegel. “Parole Board Frees Man Courts Wouldn’t” in The LA Times, Dec. 23, 1988. Accessed online at https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1988-12-23-mn-530-story.html

Luke 23:39-43

39 One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come in your kingdom.” 43 He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

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The New Commandment

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The New Commandment” John 13:1-9, 31-35

Andrew Rice’s best friend when growing up was his brother David. Although the two shared a rebellious spirit as kids, with age they settled down to careers in journalism and finance. On September 11, 2001, Andrew was covering the Toronto Film Festival when their mother called him with unsettling news. His brother David, had telephoned from his office in the World Trade Center to say that a plane hit the tower next door, but he was OK. Andrew rushed to the press room of his hotel, just in time to see a second jet hit the trade center. Filled with panic, Andew ran back to his hotel room. He turned on the TV as the first tower collapsed. In Andrew’s words, “At this point I just let out this terrible shriek, overwhelmed by the certainty that David was dead.”

After the attack, Andrew read a New York Times “Portrait of Grief” about his brother David. In the very same paper, Andrew was discomfited to read another article with words of impending retribution from Vice President Cheney, who threatened, “if you’re against us you’ll feel our wrath.” Andrew felt an inner tension. Part of him was with the Vice President, “We’ll show them,” while another part knew that force wasn’t the answer. In ensuing weeks and months, as news of mounting civilian deaths came from the war in Afghanistan, he felt increasingly concerned that ordinary people like his brother were dying. Andrew didn’t know how to respond to his brother’s death, but he had a growing sense that retribution would get him nowhere.

We may not have lost a brother on September 11th, but we have all struggled to discern how to respond when we are hurt. Whether it is a spouse who walks out the door, an adult child who severs ties, a colleague who badmouths us to the boss, a friend who betrays our dearest trust, a sibling who cheats us out of an inheritance, or a complete stranger whose violence shatters our lives, it is hard to imagine how to move forward. We may, like Andrew Rice, feel the unbearable tension between our desire for payback and our feeling that violence is not the answer.

Throughout Lent, we have been considering Jesus’ final week in Jerusalem. On the night of his arrest, Jesus offered an object lesson in how to respond to those who wrong us. He then invited his disciples to forge a new kind of community, a fellowship that would make revolutionary choices when it came to building a life together.

Foot washing was an essential rite of hospitality in the Ancient Near East. In an arid world with unpaved roads, sandaled feet got dusty, gritty, and grimy during the course of a day. Upon entering a home for a seder, the guests would shed their sandals, and a servant would wash their feet, sluicing them with water over an open basin, drying them off, and perhaps anointing them with a drop of oil. Foot washing was the most menial of household chores, performed by the lowest status slave, typically a woman or a child. With feet refreshed, the guests moved on to the table and an evening of good food and congenial conversation.

At the last supper that Jesus shared with his disciples, he rose during the meal, and undertook that most humble of services. He removed his outer robe, girded himself with a towel, and washed his friends’ feet. It was a wildly countercultural act. A high-status rabbi, acclaimed by his friends and the crowds as the Messiah, chose to do the work of a slave. It was a loving act, the kind of simple service that warms our heart—like when a caring parent kisses a child’s booboo, or a good coach takes the time to praise our efforts on the playing field; or our beloved ones remember our birthday with roses or a special meal or a night on the town.

John’s gospel tells us that Jesus knew exactly what was going on that night. He understood that he would soon leave this world and return to his heavenly Father. Soon, his passion predictions of terrible suffering and a horrible death would be fulfilled. Within the hour, one of his trusted disciples, Judas, would depart to betray him, selling his life for thirty pieces of silver. Later, all his disciples would abandon him, running off under the cover of darkness to save their own skins. Next, Peter, a dear friend and confidante, would deny and curse him three times before the sun rose. Jesus knew everything that was to come, and still he chose to do the work of a humble servant, washing the feet of those who would betray, abandon, and deny him. It was a radical act of loving kindness. Then, Jesus told his friends that they were to do the same for one another.

Humble, loving service isn’t the first thing that comes to mind when we ponder those who have betrayed, abandoned, denied, mistreated, oppressed, badmouthed, robbed, or smeared us. Our hearts skip a beat and our blood pressure rises at the very thought of mercy for those who have been so merciless to us. Our sense of justice bristles. It seems only fair that our oppressor should experience a taste of the hurt and pain that we have known. It seems only right that there should be an, “I’m sorry,” a mea culpa, a comeuppance in the court of public opinion, or at least some acknowledgment of wrongdoing. Jesus, we know you washed the feet of your fickle and failing friends, but you are who you are—and we are not. Do you truly demand this of us?

I imagine that on Holy Saturday, when Jesus lay dead in the tomb, and the women wailed in grief, and the disciples hid away in the Upper Room filled with remorse and self-recrimination, they remembered the foot washing. They recalled the stripped-down Jesus with his sleeves rolled up, kneeling at their feet. They remembered how it felt to be held and appreciated, to be accepted and loved, even though they weren’t perfect. In the darkness of that day, I like to think that the foot washing was the luminous thread that bound them to Jesus and to one another. Yes, Caesar’s Kingdom had unleashed unthinkable horror against their Lord and upon their community. Yes, the desire to either hit back or flee must have been great. Yet there had been that irresistible invitation to make a different choice, as Jesus had made a different choice. There was the call to humility and love. Rome may have appeared victorious on that first Good Friday, but Jesus had shown them another Kingdom. In Jesus’ Kingdom, power is exercised in acts of humble service and love heals the gaping holes that we carry in our hearts.

In November 2002, Andrew Rice, with others who had lost loved ones in the September eleventh attacks, learned that Madame al-Wafi, the mother of alleged twentieth hijacker Zacharias Moussaoui, was in New York City and wished to meet with them. They struggled with the choice to accept her plea for a face-to-face, but they ultimately agreed. It was a profound meeting for all. Andrew remembers that Madame al-Wafi greeted them with tears of grief and remorse for her son’s hatred. She reminded Andrew of his own mother, who had cried so much after David died. Madame al-Wafi spent three hours with them, recounting how the hatred peddled by al-Qaeda had given her mentally-ill son a purpose in life. There was no foot washing in that room, but there was healing. Many tears were cried, hugs exchanged, and a better way forward was found.

Andrew says, “One day I’d like to meet Zacharias Moussaoui. I’d like to say to him, ‘you can hate me and my brother as much as you like, but I want you to know that I loved your mother and I comforted her when she was crying.’” Andrew is still hurt and angry about the events of September eleventh, but the choice for love freed Andrew from the desire for payback and retribution. He writes, “I’m refusing to fall in line with what ‘they’ want, which is visceral hatred between two sides; this [choice for love] gives me permission to reconcile.”

Love gives us permission to reconcile. Jesus saw this so clearly on the night of his arrest. In washing his disciples’ feet and commanding them to love one another as he had loved them, he forged the graced space for them to overcome the everyday hurts, betrayals, rifts, and harms that could tear them apart. In washing his friends’ feet and commanding them to love, he sent them forth to forge a world where we do not resort to hatred and violence, a world where enemies could become friends.

What a world that will be! I can imagine it. Can you? Vladimir Putin will be on his knees, washing the feet of Vlodimir Zelenskyy. The new Ayatollah Khameini will wash the feet of the jailed protesters who called for Iranian reform. Israeli Defense Forces and Hamas Rebels will wash the feet of the widows and orphans of Gaza. Chuck Shumer and Mike Johnson will try to outdo one another in humility, each washing the other’s feet. Pam Bondi will tie back her hair, put on the apron, and wash the feet of those Epstein survivors.

And we will be there, too, daring to dream of that graced space where hurts are healed and new beginnings are found through humble acts of self-giving love. May it be so. Amen.

Resources:

Andrew Rice. “My Story” in Stories Library, The Forgiveness Project, https://www.theforgivenessproject.com/stories-library/andrew-rice/

Matt Skinner. “Walking the Palm Sunday Path: A Lenten Sermon Series for 2026” in Preaching Series, January 21, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/walking-the-palm-sunday-path-in-lent-a-sermon-series-for-2026

Karoline Lewis. “Commentary on John 13:1-9, 31-35” in Preaching Series, Jan. 22, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/sermon-series-john-13-footwashing-and-new-commandment

Kathleen Long Bostrom. “Pastoral Perspective on John 13:1-9” in Feasting on the Gospels, John, vol. 2. Louisville: WJKP, 2014.

Coleman Baker. “Exegetical Perspective on John 13:1-9” in Feasting on the Gospels, John, vol. 2. Louisville: WJKP, 2014. Michael Waters. “Homiletical Perspective on John 13:1-9” in Feasting on the Gospels, John, vol. 2. Louisville: WJKP, 2014.

John 13:1-9, 31-35

13 Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. 2 The devil had already decided[a] that Judas son of Simon Iscariot would betray Jesus. And during supper 3 Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands and that he had come from God and was going to God, 4 got up from supper, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. 5 Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. 6 He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” 7 Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” 8 Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” 9 Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”

31 When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. 32 If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. 33 Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ 34 I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

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In the Midst of Chaos

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “In the Midst of Chaos” Matthew 24:1-14

Our world is feeling especially chaotic these days.

It’s been a week since the United States and Israel launched a war against Iran. The images have been alarming: Tehran’s Mehrabad airport on fire, plumes of black smoke rising from the city, rescuers digging through the rubble of a girls’ school in search of survivors. According to Central Command, the US has struck more than 3,000 targets inside Iran. The strikes have killed at least 1,200 people, and nearly 300 people have been killed in Lebanon since Monday when Israel began strikes against suspected Hezbollah sites. Six National Guard soldiers have been killed. Nearly every country across the Middle East has sustained damage from missile hits, drone strikes, or shrapnel. Yesterday, the president warned that the crisis will escalate, saying the US will strike Iran “very hard” with “complete destruction and certain death” for targeted groups.

We are feeling chaos closer to home like surging gas prices, volatile economic markets, and beloved ones deploying to conflict zones. Christian nationalist churches are preaching a false gospel that the escalating conflict in the Middle East is part of God’s plan to bring on the apocalypse. All the while, there has been a different kind of war unfolding on the home front as concerned citizens and protesters square off against Homeland Security agents. Whistles blow, protest songs ring out, placards wave, tear gas cannisters and threats fly, and force is used—sometimes deadly. Even here in the North Country, immigrant neighbors are disappearing, snatched by ICE or Border Patrol and whisked away to crowded detention centers.

We all know daily chaos, too. The cold virus that just won’t quit. The overcrowded schedule. The relationships stretched thin. The never-ending work. The soaring grocery and gas prices. The worries for our children. Our chaos abounds and it can be hard to know how to live in the middle of all that.

Jesus lived in chaotic times. Jesus lived in an occupied nation. Israel was ruled by Roman-appointed client kings, who did the emperors bidding. Soldiers were garrisoned throughout the land from Capernaum—Jesus’ home base in the Galilee—to the Antonia Fortress—right next to the Jerusalem Temple. There were exorbitant taxes as the people paid for the costs of their occupation and the lavish lifestyles of their appointed rulers. Civil disobedience was ruthlessly dispatched with crucifixion to humiliate dissidents and terrorize communities.

Even the spiritual life of the Israelites was shaped by the chaos of occupation. The High Priests, who controlled the inner workings of the Temple, were also Roman appointees. They came from ancient, affluent priestly families that sat at the top of the social and religious hierarchy of Jerusalem. In the gospels, two High Priests shared top billing. Annas was appointed by Quirinius in the year 6 when Jesus was just a boy and removed from power by Valerius Gratius in the year 15. Yet he remained immensely influential. He controlled a leading faction of the Sanhedrin (the governing council of the Temple). Five of his sons would also serve as High Priests.

Equally powerful was Caiaphas, the son-in-law of Annas. He served as High Priest at the time of Jesus’ death, holding office for almost twenty years. According to the first-century Jewish historian Josephus, Caiaphas had a particularly close and cordial relationship with Pontius Pilate. It was Caiaphas who determined that it would be better for Jesus to be executed than for the wrath of Rome to fall upon the nation. So powerful was the Roman hold upon the High Priest, that, according to Josephus, the priestly vestments were held at the Roman headquarters in the Antonia Fortress. High holy days, like Passover, were strictly controlled by Rome.

After a day in the Temple, as they returned to their lodgings in Bethany, a disciple pointed across the Kidron Valley to the magnificent walls of the Temple, crowning Jerusalem. While the disciples marveled at the beauty of their religious center, Jesus saw the future. The Temple razed to the ground. Famine and earth quake stalking the land. Corrupt, self-serving rulers. And his followers persecuted, tortured, and executed.

Whether we are first century Israelites or twenty-first century Americans, chaos does not feel good. When the bombs fall, we lament civilian deaths, mass destruction, and the rising specter of a third World War. When protesters are abused and immigrants detained, we fear for our public safety and the preservation of constitutional rights. When we are sick or sick and tired, when there aren’t enough hours in the day, when we have more month than money, when tempers are short and love is stretched thin, we feel overwhelmed and anxious. Sometimes this world’s chaos leaves us feeling powerless, even hopeless. We are tempted to tune out and shut down, just to make it through the day.

In today’s reading, Jesus shared wisdom about living in chaotic times. Amid all the fearsome realities that the disciples and the early church would face, Jesus urged his disciples to stand firm in their faith. When false leaders arose with selfish ideologies and big promises, the disciples should trust in God instead. When fear threatened to close them down and shut them up, they were to keep calm and carry on. When chaos brought hatred and betrayal, they must choose the better way of love. For it is only love that has the power to save in the midst of chaos. The disciples would need those words of wisdom. By the end of the week, Jesus would be hanging on a cross, and they would be scattered amid the chaos.

I suspect that if we heed Jesus’ wisdom, we’ll find encouragement and a roadmap for how to live in the midst of our present chaos. We start by standing firm in the faith. As I’m always telling the church’s children, any good relationship takes time, attention, and good communication. We tend our relationship with God by feasting upon the Word in scripture, whether we frequent the Wednesday Bible Study, join in Lenten Learning, ponder the weekly sermon, or enjoy the quiet discipline of reading our Bibles. We build our relationship with God through prayer. Perhaps we’ll serve as a link in the prayer chain or attend to the prayer list in the bulletin. Maybe we’ll open our hearts during the prayers of the people or set aside some quiet moments daily, to pour out our cares and listen quietly for the comfort and leading of the Spirit.

As we seek God in scripture and prayer, trust grows. We remember the promise that Jesus made to his disciples at the conclusion of Matthew’s gospel, that he would be with them always, to the end of the age. When chaos threatens to overwhelm us, we hold to the promise that Jesus is with us. We can face the evening news, the overcrowded schedule, and the rising costs because we are not alone. The future belongs to God and we can trust that there will be a better tomorrow.

As we stand firm in faith and grow in our trust of God, we find that we can carry on. We see that we are part of a community of brave and faithful people who call the world to that better tomorrow that Jesus holds for us. We live in ways that anticipate that future. We gather on Sunday mornings to worship and praise, then we go forth into the week to be like Christ, whether we are feeding hungry people, comforting friends in crisis, welcoming strangers, standing with immigrant neighbors, visiting those who are sick or homebound, or speaking the truth in love. When we carry on and get into some good trouble together, hope finds a toehold in the midst of our chaos. We kindle the fire of love—and we know that love, not bombs or bullets or the stock market or Homeland Security, only love can bring lasting peace and salvation for our world.

I wish I could promise that the chaos is going to be better at this time next week. But if I did, I would just be one of those false prophets that Jesus warned his friends about. The war in Iran will undoubtedly escalate. There will be civilian casualties, and we will likely lose more of our own troops. We may shake the last of that cold virus, but the markets will continue to struggle and those gas prices are certain to rise. Kristi Noem may have lost her job at Homeland Security, but the outlook for our immigrant communities will remain bleak. We will live in the midst of chaos, but take courage, my friends. We got this. Stand firm in the faith, trust God, carry on, and love—always love. Amen.

Resources

Matt Skinner. “Walking the Palm Sunday Path: A Lenten Sermon Series for 2026” in Preaching Series, January 21, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/walking-the-palm-sunday-path-in-lent-a-sermon-series-for-2026

Jessie Yeung, Sophie Tanno. “Everything we know on the eighth day of the US and Israel’s war with Iran” in CNN News, March 7, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/world/everything-we-know-on-the-eighth-day-of-the-us-and-israel-s-war-with-iran/ar-AA1XHgna?ocid=msedgntp&pc=W251&cvid=69ac63a3ee9343808a0aacc504be01e0&ei=21

Julia Frankel. “Country by country, here’s how the unfolding war is affecting the Middle East and beyond” in Associated Press World News, March 6, 2026. Accessed online at https://apnews.com/article/iran-us-war-israel-strait-or-hormuz-deaths-f1619c6bfbbd5fe10857ff0af073aa0e

Corey J. Sanders. “Commentary on Luke 19:28-40” in Preaching Series, Jan. 22, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/sermon-series-matthew-241-14-jesuss-temple-discourse

Rodney Sadler, Jr. “Exegetical Perspective on Matthew 24:1-14” in Feasting on the Gospels: Matthew, vol. 2. WJKP, 2013.

“Annas” and “Caiaphas” in the Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 1, A-C. Yale U. Press, 1992.

Matthew 24:1-14

As Jesus came out of the temple and was going away, his disciples came to point out to him the buildings of the temple. 2 Then he asked them, “You see all these, do you not? Truly I tell you, not one stone will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down.”
3 When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately, saying, “Tell us, when will this be, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?” 4 Jesus answered them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. 5 For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am the Messiah!’ and they will lead many astray. 6 And you will hear of wars and rumors of wars; see that you are not alarmed, for this must take place, but the end is not yet. 7 For nation will rise against nation and kingdom against kingdom, and there will be famines and earthquakes in various places: 8 all this is but the beginning of the birth pangs. 9 “Then they will hand you over to be tortured and will put you to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of my name. 10 Then many will fall away, and they will betray one another and hate one another. 11 And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. 12 And because of the increase of lawlessness, the love of many will grow cold. 13 But the one who endures to the end will be saved. 14 And this good news of the kingdom will be proclaimed throughout the world, as a testimony to all the nations, and then the end will come.

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Truth to Power

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Truth to Power” Mark 12:1-12

Rachel spoke truth to power. For her senior year at Evergreen State College, Rachel proposed a special independent study. She would travel to Gaza with the International Solidarity Movement. There, she would live in community with Palestinian families, initiate a “sister city” project between Olympia and Rafah, and start a pen-pal program between children in the two cities. Rachel was shocked at the destruction she found in Gaza. Every day, homes were leveled and people detained and killed. Rachel wrote of her experience to her family. Inundated by the abounding hospitality of her beleaguered Gazan hosts, she wrote, “I just feel sick to my stomach a lot from being doted on all the time, very sweetly, by people who are facing doom. . . Honestly, a lot of the time the sheer kindness of the people here, coupled with the overwhelming evidence of the willful destruction of their lives, makes it seem unreal to me.”

Bill spoke truth to power. He served as an infantryman in World War II, went to college, and worked for the CIA, but a spiritual calling took him to seminary. Bill’s passion, inspired by his faith, was social justice. In the 1960s, he was arrested three times as a Freedom Rider, challenging segregation laws by riding interstate buses in the South. Next, Bill turned his attention to America’s growing involvement in Vietnam. He used his significant influence as the chaplain of Yale to organize for the anti-war effort, earning the scrutiny of the Johnson administration. Wishing to make an example of Bill, he was arrested on federal charges of conspiracy to advise draft evasion and found guilty.

Zyahna spoke truth to power. At fifteen, she drafted a petition to the Charlottesville City Council calling for the removal of that infamous statue of Robert E. Lee and the renaming of Lee Park. The seeds of Zyahna’s protest were planted in her fifth-grade studies of the Civil War. She remembers, “Once I learned the truth about slavery and the Civil War, I felt disgusted that my city wanted to display a statue that celebrated my ancestors’ pain.” The City Council responded by creating a commission to consider the statue’s removal and ultimately voted to remove it.

Jesus spoke truth to power. His provocative Palm Sunday parade dramatized the tensions between the Kingdom of God and the earthly powers and principalities. Later that day, when Jesus arrived at the Temple and entered the Court of the Gentiles, he was so offended by the greed and corruption he saw that he overturned the tables of the moneychangers and the seats of those who sold doves for sacrifice. It was not a subtle entry into the city. In fact, it drew the attention of the chief priests and elders, some of the most powerful people in Jerusalem. They hailed from wealthy influential families at the pinnacle of society and walked a fine line between loyalty to their tradition and fealty to the Roman emperor. They came to Jesus as he was teaching and demanded to know who had given him the authority to undertake such a radical and prophetic act.

Jesus answered his critics with a tough story about a landowner and his vineyard.  As Jesus began, it seemed as if he might spin some midrash on Isaiah 5, the Song of the Vineyard. Isaiah described God’s frustration and disillusionment with Israel through the story a loving farmer, who cleared land, worked the earth, built a protective wall and watchtower, and carefully planted the very best vines to bear a bumper crop of sweet, juicy grapes. At harvest time, though, the farmer found only wild grapes—tough, sour, and inedible. God expected a harvest of righteousness from God’s people—folks living in right relationship with God and one another, but God found oppression, bloodshed, and injustice.

When Jesus told his parable to his critics, he made a few key changes in Isaiah’s plot.  That loving farmer went on a long trip and entrusted his beautiful vineyard to some hired hands.  Come harvest time, the vineyard was producing abundantly, just as the landowner had anticipated. The trouble was with the tenants. They seemed to think the vineyard existed only to serve their personal and economic interests. They didn’t think they owed the vineyard owner a red cent. Jesus’s vineyard owner was merciful to the point of foolishness. He repeatedly sent servants, even a beloved son, to speak holy truth and return the wayward tenants to the right path. Right about then, the chief priests and elders must have been feeling a bit uncomfortable.

The story that Jesus told is a juridical parable, a combination of allegory and hyperbole (exaggeration) that is intended to shock and provoke the listener. His listeners were invited to stand in judgment of themselves with the hope that change could happen. Confronted by their failure to honor God and the ridiculous, overflowing mercy of God, Jesus sought to shift perspectives and change behaviors. Could the Son be welcomed? Could the tenants return to God the righteous action that was needed? The graced moment passed. Judgment was pronounced. The chief priests and elders withdrew, conspiring to turn Jesus over to Pilate. We anticipate the close of that first Holy Week: Jesus, outside the walls of the city, his broken body nailed to a cross, breathing his last.

Speaking truth to power is never easy. It is not thinking that the world is wrong and only we are right. It is a bold bid for change and transformation that requires tremendous moral courage. It demands firm conviction that our righteous action is in keeping with God’s best hopes for humanity. Our words must pass the litmus test of love. Will the truth we speak ultimately increase love for God and neighbor—all neighbors? Speaking truth to power is an act of ethical resistance that can cost you your friendships, family, status, reputation, livelihood, safety, and even your life. Just ask Jesus. But without those who are bold enough to speak the truth, change cannot come.

Rachel Corrie never completed her senior project. Her efforts to stand with her Gazan hosts as they contended with the Israeli Defense Force ended her life. Rachel placed herself between an IDF Caterpillar bulldozer and a Palestinian home, thinking to prevent its demolition. Instead, she was run over twice. Her death brought international attention to the plight of Gazans. After her death, her family launched the Rachel Corrie Foundation for Peace & Justice to “support programs that foster connections between people, that build understanding, respect, and appreciation for differences, and that promote cooperation within and between local and global communities.”

William Sloan Coffin’s conviction on federal charges of conspiracy to advise draft evasion was overturned on appeal. Bill continued to advocate for non-violence and world peace. His provocative activism took him to Iran in 1979 to perform Christmas services for hostages being held in the U.S. embassy during the Iran hostage crisis and to Nicaragua to protest U.S. military intervention there. He became president of SANE/FREEZE, the nation’s largest peace and justice organization. His activism sometimes put him at odds with his parishioners, who admired his messages but wished he would spend more time actually being their pastor. Shortly before his death in 2006, Bill founded Faithful Security, a coalition for people of faith committed to working for a world free of nuclear weapons.

Zyahna Bryant’s petition to remove the Robert E. Lee statue in Charlottesville inflamed supporters of Confederate monuments. In August 2017, white supremacists descended upon the city in an effort to preserve the statue. Anti-racist demonstrators rallied to counter protest. One person was murdered and several others injured when a white supremacist used his car as a weapon, ramming a group of counter protesters. Zyahna Bryant is still using her voice to speak truth to power. She’s a student now at the University of Virginia, and serves as the youngest member of the inaugural Virginia African American Advisory Board. The Robert E. Lee statue was removed on July 10, 2021, and melted down in 2023 to be repurposed into new public art.

When the beloved son was killed, that foolishly merciful landlord did not destroy the unscrupulous tenants. Instead, God raised the Beloved Son, who returned with a message, not of judgment, but of love. It’s a love so great that it broke the power of sin and death. It’s a love so all-encompassing that it can meet all the evil of every wicked tenant that has ever lived and work from it a miracle of redemption and life. The risen Lord comes, again and again, calling the world to be in right relationship with God and one another.

We remember that the beloved son sent his friends out to do the same. They spoke God’s truth and took their licks, from the disciples to the apostles and martyrs, from Catherine of Alexandria to Francis of Assisi, from Martin Luther to Sojourner Truth, from Dorothy Day to Dietrich Bonhoeffer, from Bill Coffin to Rachel Corrie to Zyahna Brayant—to us. With trembling voices, we join the throng, lamenting acts of genocide, unjust war, systemic racism, and more. We call the world to the better way of love. We do our part, pay the price, and hope for change.

Resources

The Rachel Corrie Foundation for Peace and Justice. “Rachel Corrie” and “Projects.” Accessed online at https://rachelcorriefoundation.org/

Robert Shetterly. “Rachel Corrie” in Americans Who Tell The Truth. Accessed online at https://americanswhotellthetruth.org/portraits/rachel-corrie/

Robert Shetterly. “William Sloane Coffin” in Americans Who Tell The Truth. Accessed online at https://americanswhotellthetruth.org/portraits/william-sloane-coffin/

Robert Shetterly. “Zyahna Bryant” in Americans Who Tell The Truth. Accessed online at https://americanswhotellthetruth.org/portraits/zyahna-bryant/

Zyahna Bryant. “Zy Bryant Official: More of the movement, less of myself.” Accessed online at https://zybryant.com/

Rupert Cornwell. “The Rev William Sloane Coffin: Radical priest and rights activist” in The Independent, April 14, 2006. Accessed online at https://www.independent.co.uk/news/obituaries/the-rev-william-sloane-coffin-6103769.html

Matthew Skinner. “Commentary on Mark 12:1-12” in Craft of Preaching: Preaching Series, Jan. 22, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching-series/sermon-series-mark-121-12-parable-of-the-wicked-tenants

Spalding, Richard E. “Pastoral Perspective on Matthew 21:33-46” in Feasting on the Word, Year A, vol. 4. Louisville: Westminster john Knox Press, 2011.

McMickle, Marvin A. “Homiletical Perspective on Matthew 21:33-46” in Feasting on the Word, Year A, vol. 4. Louisville: Westminster john Knox Press, 2011.

Mark 12:1-12

12 Then he began to speak to them in parables. “A man planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a pit for the winepress, and built a watchtower; then he leased it to tenants and went away. 2 When the season came, he sent a slave to the tenants to collect from them his share of the produce of the vineyard. 3 But they seized him and beat him and sent him away empty-handed. 4 And again he sent another slave to them; this one they beat over the head and insulted. 5 Then he sent another, and that one they killed. And so it was with many others; some they beat, and others they killed. 6 He had still one other, a beloved son. Finally he sent him to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ 7 But those tenants said to one another, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours.’ 8 So they seized him, killed him, and threw him out of the vineyard. 9 What then will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and destroy the tenants and give the vineyard to others. 10 Have you not read this scripture:

‘The stone that the builders rejected
    has become the cornerstone;
11 this was the Lord’s doing,
    and it is amazing in our eyes’?”

12 When they realized that he had told this parable against them, they wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowd. So they left him and went away.

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