Lazarus, Then and Now

September 28, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Lazareth, Then and Now” Luke 16:19-31

Imagine Saranac Lake on July 25, 1890 when an organizing service of worship took place right here, the sanctuary so new that it lacked windows and seats. Rough wooden benches held worshipers, and hymns were sung a cappella, the sounds of Presbyterian harmonies gently drifting across the village. Church Street was unpaved, the street alternately dusty or muddy, dotted with riders and horse-drawn wagons. The village’s ten-block commercial district was two years away from its first phase of construction. The surrounding hills of Pisgah, Dewey, and Baker were clear cut, the trees sent down the Hudson to build New York City. Helen Hill was a grassy knoll called the Sheep Meadow, but it would soon undergo a residential building boom. The local population had swelled to 1,582 permanent residents, tripling in size over the past few years. In the next decade, it would quadruple.

Everywhere, the sounds of construction rang out. That summer, the Adirondack Cottage Sanitarium built three cure cottages and a large open-air amusement pavilion. Local residents were adding additions to their homes, tacking on porches, and taking in borders. New homes were rented at a premium that enabled owners to pay off their building debt within two years. With our short Adirondack building season, even Sunday mornings would have been punctuated by the sounds of hammers and saws, workman’s shouts and teams of horses hauling wagons.

We were booming, thanks to the “White Plague” of tuberculosis. The crowded living conditions, poor air quality, and squalid poverty of American cities were a breeding ground for the disease. In those days before antibiotics, a tuberculosis diagnosis felt like a death sentence. It started with coughing, night sweats, fever, weight loss, and bloody sputum. It progressed to organ failure and death. By 1907, 400 Americans were dying of tuberculosis every day. Dr. E.L. Trudeau spurred the hopes of patients everywhere that a miracle cure had been found in Saranac Lake when he publicized that the cold air, rest, good food, and leisure of the Adirondacks had put his TB into remission. Hurting people from across the nation and around the world, desperate for healing, rode the new railroad to the village looking for renewed health. These TB patients, desperate, sick, and far from home, would have been among the most isolated and vulnerable people that we could possibly imagine.

In our reading from Luke’s gospel, Jesus told a story about a rich man and the desperately ill neighbor who languished at his gate. Jesus used the Greek word plousios to describe the rich man, meaning a wealthy landowner who did not labor for a living. He lived large, clotheded in royal purple and fine linen, feasting on sumptuous food, and hosting lavish parties. Jesus described the sick man, Lazarus, with the Greek word ptoxos, meaning the abject poor, a homeless beggar without the support of property, friends, or family. He was so weakened that he couldn’t even shoo away the dogs drawn to his festering wounds. Although they were neighbors, the rich man didn’t seem to see Lazarus, while the sick man dreamt of eating the crumbs that fell from his rich neighbor’s table. Jesus painted a stark and uncomfortable picture of the extremes of our human condition.

According to Jesus’ parable, death brought a great reversal. Lazarus, who suffered so in life, found a privileged position in death, seated by the Patriarch Abraham at the heavenly banquet. The rich man, on the other hand, was in Hades, tormented by flames and an unquenchable thirst. It comes as a surprise to hear that the rich man not only knew Lazarus, he also felt he could order him around: come and relieve my thirst with a glass of cold water; go and tell my brothers to change their ways. We can imagine the shock that the rich man felt when he learned that his indifference to the suffering of his neighbor, his flagrant disregard for the requirements of scripture, had built a great chasm, not only between himself and Lazarus, but also between himself and God.

When our seventeen original members signed their names to the church’s brand-new, leather-bound session ledger on July 25, 1890, they made a bold commitment to love and worship God right here. They also made a sincere commitment to their vulnerable neighbors whom they knew to be at their gate. Jane “Jennie” Conklin came to Saranac Lake from Rochester in the spring of 1890 with her husband John as he sought the cold air cure for tuberculosis. By year’s end, John was dead, leaving Jennie with three young children and a small sum that she used to build the Conklin Cottage at the corner of Main and Church Streets. There she tended patients in need of compassion and care, much as she had tended her husband. Likewise, the Podmore and Lattrell families, who were also among our founding members, were proprietors of cure cottages.

By 1893, the church had created what was known as the Fellowship Fund, which benefited neighbors in need through personal pledges. Poor boxes to receive donations for the relief of the “sick poor” were installed inside the church door. The church welcomed tubercular patients that never entered this sanctuary and certainly never made a pledge to the church, like Miss Fletcher, who was received into the membership of the church by two elders, dispatched to her bedside at the O’Malley Cottage. Our third pastor, the Rev. Armitage Beardsley, came to us in 1895 fresh from seminary. He saw the sanitoriums and cure cottages of the village as his mission field. He soon contracted TB, and by September 1897 was so ill that he was forced to resign. His touching letter of farewell is pasted into the session minutes of the time. News of his death followed within weeks.

Without question, our most dedicated advocate of the “sick poor” was Rev. Hiram Lyon, who served the church from 1927 to 1937. He came to Saranac Lake in 1925 in need of the cold air cure, following his graduation from Union Seminary in New York City. When our pastor Rev. George Kennedy Newell died of pneumonia shortly before Christmas in 1926, the church looked to young Hiram to fill the pulpit. Afraid that his newfound health wouldn’t last, he agreed to serve for a one-year trial period, and against all odds, he thrived. Hiram believed that God had placed this congregation in a unique position to care for vulnerable neighbors with tuberculosis. He cast the vision for the church to hire a Parish Visitor, who would travel to cure cottages, sanitoriums, and local hospitals to bring patients hope, cheer, and the love of Christ. In October 1928, the job went to Miss Christine Burdick a recent graduate of the Boston University School of Religious Education and Social Service. Christine made as many as 2,000 visits in a year, offering compassionate listening, caring presence, and fervent prayers. Walls of loneliness, isolation, and fear came tumbling down as Christine shared the love of Christ with neighbors who must have felt every bit as vulnerable as Lazarus at the gate.

Jesus’ parable of the rich man and his desperate neighbor is a story about a failure to love. The rich man failed to love God with all his heart and mind and soul and strength. He also failed to love his neighbors as himself. The rich man saw Lazarus as a blight on his landscape, not as a brother, a fellow child of Abraham, deserving of love and compassion, mercy and care. It never occurred to the rich man that his abundance was a gift from God, meant to be shared for the common good and the particular care of his vulnerable neighbor. Today as we commemorate our anniversary, we celebrate our ancestors in the faith, those saints who gathered on Sunday mornings to express their heartfelt love for God and then went forth into the week to love their neighbors, especially the most vulnerable ones.

Today, we are called to claim that legacy for ourselves. We honor Jane Conklin and Armitage Beardsley, Hiram Lyon and Christine Burdick when we dare to go forth and do likewise, expressing our love for God with our worship and music, and opening our hearts and hands to care for those who need it most.

I want to wrap up my message by naming some of the ways that we bless neighbors in times of vulnerability. Now, if you have ever participated in any of these ministries or perhaps been blessed by these ministries, let me know with an “Uh-huh,” an “Amen,” or perhaps a clap offering. Ready?

We knit prayer shawls, lap robes, and baby blankets to bless those in need of blessing.

We give generously to our Deacons Fund, to help neighbors pay rent or make car repairs, cover medical bills or make essential purchases.

We visit folks who are hospitalized, homebound, or live at Will Rogers and Elderwood, sharing love and communion.

We cook delicious meals and deliver them to those who are bouncing back from surgery, illness, or grief.

We grow beautiful produce to feed our Food Pantry friends, and we bring in paper goods for neighbors at Grace Pantry.

We raise funds and awareness about hunger in the CROP Walk.

We partner with our ecumenical friends to house the homeless and help them transition to independent living.

We pray our hearts out on the prayer chain.

We love and welcome immigrants and refugees.

I could say more, but brunch is waiting. Thank you to those bold seventeen original members who launched this great endeavor to love. Thank you to all of you, who so boldly claim that legacy with care and compassion, near and far. Lazarus is at the gate, my friends. May we go forth to love.

Luke 16:19-31

19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24 He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.’ 25 But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things and Lazarus in like manner evil things, but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ 27 He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— 28 for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ 29 Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ 30 He said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ 31 He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ”

First Presbyterian Church of Saranac Lake

Joseph’s Dream

September 21, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / 2 Comments

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Joseph’s Dream” Genesis 41:14-36

This summer, the Seed Saver’s Exchange in Decorah, Iowa celebrated its 50^th anniversary with a national seed swap day, lessons in grafting apple trees, an heirloom plant sale, tomato tasting, and orchard tours. It all got started in 1975 when Diane Wheatley was entrusted with two heirloom seed varieties, Grandpa Ott’s Blue Morning Glories and German Pink Tomatoes. Diane’s great-grandparents brought the seeds to the US when they immigrated from Bavaria in 1884.

Diane and her husband Kent knew other families who preserved family seeds and stories. They reached out to form a network of gardeners interested in preserving biodiversity by growing heirloom seeds in their gardens and farms. Today, on their 890-acre farm in Winneshiek County, the Wheatley’s have the nation’s largest nongovernmental seed bank with more than 20,000 varieties of seed that they store and grow.

It’s a good thing that people like the Wheatleys are so committed to saving seeds and their stories. In the last century, the world has lost 75% of its edible plant varieties. Nowadays, roughly half of America’s cropland—170 million acres—is planted with genetically engineered crops with seeds that can’t be saved and replanted. That lack of biodiversity makes for a fragile agricultural system. Genetically modified crops are more vulnerable to changing climate, as well as certain pests and diseases. Agricultural experts are sounding the alarm that we need the biodiversity of heirloom plants to safeguard our food supply.

In our reading from Genesis, Pharoah had two disturbing dreams that sprang from the world of ancient Egyptian agriculture. At the center of Pharoah’s dream was the Nile. Ancient Egyptians called the Nile “Ar,” meaning “black,” a reference to the rich, dark sediment that the Nile’s waters carried from the Horn of Africa northward and deposited in Egypt when the river flooded its banks each year in late summer. That surge of water and nutrients turned the Nile Valley into productive farmland, and made it possible for Egyptian civilization to develop in the midst of a desert. In fact, the Egyptians were the first to practice agriculture on a large scale, growing wheat, barley, and flax. Ancient Egyptian farmers developed a system called basin irrigation, digging channels and filling fields with flood water. There it would sit for a month until the soil was saturated and ready for planting to grow the abundance that would sustain people and livestock.

But in Pharoah’s dream, trouble was brewing along the Nile. The king’s late-night vision of ugly, skinny cows devouring fat, sleek cows and withered, blighted grain consuming plump, good grain so troubled Pharoah that he summoned all the Magi of Egypt to interpret his dream. When they failed to discern the meaning, the king sent for a Hebrew prisoner, Joseph, who had a reputation for wise interpretation. With God’s help, Joseph listened to Pharaoh’s dream and anticipated catastrophe for Egypt’s economy and people: seven years of plenty would be followed by seven years of drought and starvation. There was no escaping it. The nation and the people would suffer.

Around the world this morning, millions of people face the sort of agricultural crisis and food scarcity anticipated by Pharaoh’s dream. The World Food Programme reports that we are in a world food crisis. 319 million people in 67 countries face acute hunger. The world’s largest hunger crisis is in the Democratic Republic of Congo, where 23.4 million people are severely hungry and over 6 million people have been displaced by civil war. Somalia is on the brink of famine with 10 million people in crisis. In Gaza, over half a million people are facing catastrophic famine. With acute malnutrition worsening rapidly, an estimated 132,000 of Gaza’s children under 5 are at risk of death. Pharaoh’s dream is our world’s nightmare in which war, climate change, a sluggish global economy, and a worldwide surge in refugees are fueling the global food crisis.

In response to Pharoah’s nightmares, Joseph began to do his own dreaming. He cast the vision of a future for Egypt in which the catastrophe of drought and starvation could be alleviated by careful planning. For Joseph’s plan to work, Pharaoh would need to take immediate action. One fifth of all grain harvested for the next seven years must be saved and safeguarded, creating an abundance that could feed the people and their livestock through the climate crisis to come. Most leaders would reject a seven-year 20% cut to their nation’s bottom line, but the frightening portent of Pharoah’s dream opened his ears. The king saw that careful planning for the future was needed, and Joseph was the man to do it. The king freed him from prison and appointed him chief overseer of the nation with authority to put his grain saving plan into action. If we were to continue to read in Genesis, we would learn that Joesph’s dream saved not only Egypt but also Israel as Joseph’s Hebrew brothers came to Egypt in search of grain.

The world needs people like Joseph. They look at the global reality of hunger, and they act wisely to avert catastrophe. For more than forty years, this church has partnered with Church World Service to help hungry neighbors here in the US and all around the world. Like Joseph, Church World Service has a goal of building a world where there is enough for all. One of the ways Church World Service does this is through the Seeds of Hope program. In Guatemala they are helping families in Quiché and Quetzaltenango grow and care for their own gardens. They have provided a variety of vegetable seeds, like coriander, radish, beets, chard, and spinach. They have also helped 590 families build gardens and 30 to build greenhouses. The garden program has been so successful, that Church World Service has worked with villages to develop community markets, where neighbors buy and sell their products to one other. Seeds of hope has allowed communities to grow and flourish together.

Church World Service is also working with global neighbors to adapt to a warming climate, which has led to droughts, floods, and unpredictable weather patterns. Farming practices that were once stable are no longer effective and smaller harvests have left families with less to eat and sell. In Tanzania, CWS is working with farmers to boost productivity and profits. Charles Dzombo participated in a program that taught him to grow sweet potatoes to supplement the grain, mangos, and maize that he already grew. The sweet potato vines thrived. In fact, Charles made a profit of three times his investment and did so in half the time of other crops. The extra money has allowed him to meet his household needs, maintain a stable food supply, and even purchase a goat. Charles now trains 25 other local farmers. He says, “Now that I have tasted the goodness of planting sweet potatoes, I am going to make it a priority.”

The world needs people like Joseph, who look at the global reality of hunger and act wisely to avert catastrophe. Half a world away from the 319 million people who experience acute hunger, we may feel powerless to make a helping, healing difference. But we can. Just think of Diane Wheatley who held in her hand two heirloom seeds from her Grandpa Ott and dreamed of the Seed Savers Exchange which, fifty years later, preserves the biodiversity of our farms for the generations to come.

What would it look like for us to be a Joseph? We begin local, right here in our basement. We can volunteer to help neighbors with more month than money through the Food Pantry. If we like to get our hands dirty, and maybe try growing some heirloom seeds, we can help in the Church’s Jubilee Garden. Last weekend, Ann and John harvested a bumper crop of potatoes, squash, Swiss chard, tomatoes, hot peppers, and more to the delight of our food pantry neighbors. There was even a little left over for us. If we aren’t into gardening, there is always the opportunity to make monthly food offerings, like soup and crackers or peanut butter and jelly, to stock the Pantry’s shelves. And don’t forget two-cents-a-meal on communion Sundays. That spare change adds up with half staying local with the food pantry and half going to the Presbyterian Hunger Program for hungry people across the nation.

If we want to be Joseph for the world, we have the perfect opportunity on October 19 when our church will host the Saranac Lake CROP Walk. We pledge our support, lace up our sneakers, and hit the streets to raise funds and awareness about hunger. Last year, CROP Walk raised more than $6,000 for the work of Church World Service, supporting their innovative agriculture programs around the world. Who plans to walk this year? Who plans to pledge?

The world needs more Joseph’s this morning, my friends. The world needs more Josephs who will save seeds to preserve biodiversity and roll up their sleeves to feed hungry neighbors. The world needs more Josephs who will mentor Guatemalan gardeners and teach Tanzanians the profitable art of planting sweet potatoes. The world needs more Josephs who care about the 319 million acutely hungry people in this world and are willing to make a difference. How about it?

Resources

Patrick J. Kiger. “Why the Nile River Was So Important to Ancient Egypt” in History, July 12, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.history.com/articles/ancient-egypt-nile-river

Church World Service. “A Sweet Investment Brings Success” and “Seeds of Hope for Nutritional Food Security Program in Guatemala” in Stories of Change. Accessed online at https://cwsglobal.org/our-work

World Food Programme. A global food crisis. Accessed online at https://www.wfp.org/global-hunger-crisis

–. “Seed Savers Exchange Celebrates 50 Years.” Accessed online at https://seedsavers.org/sse-50th-anniversary/

Von Rad, Gerhard. Genesis. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1972.

Brueggemann, Walter. Genesis. Interpreter Commentary Series. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1982.

Creation Justice Ministries. “Sowing Seeds: Prophetic Action to Climate-Changed Lands,” 2023.

Genesis 41:14-36

¹⁴Then Pharaoh sent for Joseph, and he was hurriedly brought out of the dungeon. When he had shaved himself and changed his clothes, he came in before Pharaoh. ¹⁵And Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I had a dream, and there is no one who can interpret it. I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it.” ¹⁶Joseph answered Pharaoh, “It is not I; God will give Pharaoh a favorable answer.” ¹⁷Then Pharaoh said to Joseph, “In my dream I was standing on the banks of the Nile, ¹⁸and seven cows, fat and sleek, came up out of the Nile and fed in the reed grass. ¹⁹Then seven other cows came up after them, poor, very ugly, and thin. Never had I seen such ugly ones in all the land of Egypt. ²⁰The thin and ugly cows ate up the first seven fat cows, ²¹but when they had eaten them no one would have known that they had done so, for they were still as ugly as before. Then I awoke. ²²I fell asleep a second time,^[a] and I saw in my dream seven ears of grain, full and good, growing on one stalk, ²³and seven ears, withered, thin, and blighted by the east wind, sprouting after them, ²⁴and the thin ears swallowed up the seven good ears. But when I told it to the magicians, there was no one who could explain it to me.”

²⁵Then Joseph said to Pharaoh, “Pharaoh’s dreams are one and the same; God has revealed to Pharaoh what he is about to do. ²⁶The seven good cows are seven years, and the seven good ears are seven years; the dreams are one. ²⁷The seven lean and ugly cows that came up after them are seven years, as are the seven empty ears blighted by the east wind. They are seven years of famine. ²⁸It is as I told Pharaoh; God has shown to Pharaoh what he is about to do. ²⁹There will come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt. ³⁰After them there will arise seven years of famine, and all the plenty will be forgotten in the land of Egypt; the famine will consume the land. ³¹The plenty will no longer be known in the land because of the famine that will follow, for it will be very grievous. ³²And the doubling of Pharaoh’s dream means that the thing is fixed by God, and God will shortly bring it about. ³³Now therefore let Pharaoh select a man who is discerning and wise and set him over the land of Egypt. ³⁴Let Pharaoh proceed to appoint overseers over the land and take one-fifth of the produce of the land of Egypt during the seven plenteous years. ³⁵Let them gather all the food of these good years that are coming and lay up grain under the authority of Pharaoh for food in the cities, and let them keep it. ³⁶That food shall be a reserve for the land against the seven years of famine that are to befall the land of Egypt, so that the land may not perish through the famine.”

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Lucky Pennies

September 14, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Lucky Pennies” Luke 15:1-10

The U.S. Mint is winding down production of pennies and will stop minting them entirely in early 2026. The penny has been under attack for decades, ever since lawmakers realized that the 3.69 cents that it costs to make a penny is much more than the coin is worth. A lucky penny on a sidewalk once made our eyes light up and our hands reach down to pick it up. Nowadays, most folks feel it isn’t worth their time. Former US Mint Director Philip Diehl says that the value of the penny on the sidewalk “has shrunk to the point that, if you earn more than minimum wage, you’re losing money [by] stopping and picking [it] up.”

It wasn’t always that way. If you have lived long enough, you may remember the days when a penny inserted into the gumball machine outside the grocery store got you a beautiful, round, candy-coated ball of chewing gum goodness. Or, a bright, shiny, new copper penny was the perfect accessory for your penny loafers. Or, the penny clutched in your small, sweaty hand got you the penny candy of your choice. Or, you delighted in the sound of a penny falling into your piggy bank or dropping into a fountain as you made a wish. David Hartgrove, who grew up in Miami in the 1950s, remembers collecting glass bottles on his walk to school. One bottle got him three cents, which he spent on candy, feeling “like a king” for about a half hour.

It isn’t only pennies that we deem of little value these days. In 2023, the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) reported collecting approximately $956,253.38 in small change left behind at airport security checkpoints. The Covanta Holding Company, which gleans discarded coins from the 250 million tons of garbage that we send to landfills each year, reports that Americans throw away an estimated $62 million in coins each year. That’s not chump change.

In our reading from the fifteenth chapter of Luke, Jesus describes a persistent woman who searches diligently for a lost coin. It’s the second of three parables that Jesus told when the scribes and Pharisees grumbled about his outrageous hospitality, saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

According to tradition, the immorality of Jesus’ dinner companions was a problem for everyone because it separated them from God and neighbor. Sin rendered the sinner unclean and unholy. Anyone with good sense avoided sinners until they turned their lives around and practiced the proper rituals and sacrifices to restore God’s favor and return them to their place in the community of the righteous. Now, an observant rabbi might exhort a sinner to repentance, but he would fear doing what Jesus did, sitting down at the table with them. That kind of careless behavior might render the rabbi unclean. In fact, it might contaminate the whole community. What rabbi in their right mind would jeopardize his community’s relationship with God? It’s no wonder that the scribes and Pharisees were scandalized and worried. They saw Jesus’ table fellowship as a risk to everyone’s salvation. Jesus’ parables call into question those pious assumptions of his critics.

So, how about that poor, persistent woman that Jesus described? Losing one of ten coins, she goes to extraordinary lengths to find it. She lights a lamp and burns precious oil, searching and sweeping the house. She moves all the furniture, makes her kids crawl around on their hands and knees. She pokes her broom into every crevice and cranny. When she finds the errant coin, she lets out a whoop of rejoicing.

What happens next is really outrageous. The woman hosts a party in celebration of the lost coin. She invites all her friends and neighbors, cooks up a storm, and insists that everyone celebrate with her. Her impromptu party costs more than the no-longer-lost coin is worth, and that leaves her guests wondering if the coin wasn’t the only thing that got lost. Maybe she lost her marbles.

Jesus says that this persistent woman is what God is like. One of God’s highest priorities and greatest joys is the recovery of what has been lost. God is always reaching out to sinful and fallen people with amazing grace and unmerited love. Jesus may have told three parables in the fifteenth chapter of Luke to make this point, but truly his whole life was a parable of God’s unstoppable love that will not let us go. No matter how lost we may be, God so longs to be reconciled with us that God is willing to become flesh and die for us. God is willing to get down and dirty, to pick us up and dust us off, to say, “Let me tell you just how much I love you, my lost friend.”

That’s the best news ever because, if we are deeply honest, we’ll admit that we can all be lost. We have all had times when we have languished in the dark, short on the hope that anyone will value us enough to seeks us and save us. Perhaps even now we are thinking of our lost places. We’ve been hooked on alcohol or prescription meds, food or lust. We’ve made idols of work or nation, money or guns. We’ve behaved badly in broken and destructive relationships. We’ve gotten sucked into the dysfunction of our extended families—and we may even pass it on to the next generation. We’ve been mired in debt and caught up in consuming. We’ve been lost in grief or depression, rebelliousness or anxiety. At times, we’ve even gotten lost like the scribes and Pharisees. We judge and draw lines. We may even exclude or oppress others because we think we’ve got a lock on righteousness.

We all know just how bad it feels to be lost, and how desperately we long to be found. We need Jesus to see us for who we are in all our sinful frailty. We need Jesus to remind us that God believes we are worthy of the costly search, the saving grace, and the outrageous celebration. We need Jesus to seek us like a good shepherd, a persistent woman, the best father. We need Jesus to find us with rejoicing.

If we listen with the ear of our heart this morning, we may hear the sounds of a party. The lamp is lit. The table is spread with a bountiful feast—freshly baked bread and roasted meats, salads and side dishes, a cake with candles blazing. The music is playing and the kids are doing the electric slide on the newly swept floor. Jesus is the host and we, my friends, are the guests, no longer lost but loved, cherished, and welcomed with a shout of rejoicing. The lost coin is once again a lucky penny. Can we imagine it?

82-year-old Otha Anders began collecting lost coins and spare change around his Ruston, Louisiana home in the 1970s. Eventually, his coin collection filled an impressive fifteen five-gallon plastic water jugs. When Otha was forced to cash in his change to pay for some expensive dental work about ten years ago, he discovered that those lost and little regarded coins added up to $5,130. Now, that’s not chump change.

Otha isn’t happy about the demise of the little-loved penny because pennies mean a lot to him. Their value far exceeds the face value—or even the 3.69 cents that it costs to mint one. Otha says that whenever he spots a penny on the street or gets one back in change, he sees it as a reminder to thank God. $5,130—that’s a lot of thanks giving. Otha says, “I’d give you a dollar before I would give you a penny.”

I think Otha has a point, even if it doesn’t make good financial sense. Perhaps the next time we’re about to step over that penny on the sidewalk, we’ll stop. We’ll bend down. We’ll pick it up. Perhaps the next time we see a lost coin, we’ll remember Otha Anders. We’ll remember that persistent woman. We’ll remember Jesus, who told us all about God’s unstoppable love that will not let us go, no matter how lost we may be. Thank you, Lord.

Resources:

E. Trey Clark. “Commentary on Luke 15:1-10” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 14, 2025. Accessed online at Commentary on Luke 15:1-10 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Rachel Treisman. “Are Pennies Worth It?” NPR News, Feb. 10, 2025. Accessed online at www.ypradio.org/npr-news/2025-02-10

Aimee Picchi. “Americans Throw Away $62 Million in Coins Each Year” in CBS News Money Watch, Oct. 18, 2016. Accessed online at www.cbsnews.com

Karissa Waddick. “Penny for Their Thoughts” in USA Today, Feb. 10, 2025. Accessed online at www.usatoday.com

Jenna Busch. Passengers Leave a Staggering Amount of Cash Behind at TSA Screening Checkpoints in Islands, May 31, 2025. Accessed online at Passengers Leave A Staggering Amount Of Cash Behind At TSA Screening Checkpoints, Here’s Where It Goes

Luke 15:1-10

15 Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” 3 So he told them this parable: 4 “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? 5 And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. 6 And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my lost sheep.’ 7 Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. 8 “Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? 9 And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ 10 Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

Building Projects

September 7, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Building Projects” Luke 14:25-32

The National Monument of Scotland was never completed. Plans for the memorial atop Carleton Hill in Edinburgh were drawn up more than 200 years ago with the intention of honoring Scotland’s fallen heroes of the Napoleonic War. A massive pillared court, like the Parthenon in Athens, would contain a church, as well as catacombs for the burial of the country’s most significant leaders. By 1822 a foundation was laid, but by 1829, construction ground to a halt, due to insufficient funds. An effort to revive the project in the 1850s likewise failed. The city council eventually became the owners of the partially-finished monument, known as “Edinburgh’s Disgrace.” All that survives of the original grand plans are an immense foundation and twelve colossal Doric columns.

The Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City was never completed. One of the largest churches in the world, St. John’s is perched at the top of a flight of wide steps atop one of the highest hills in Manhattan. Standing in front of the massive building, you’ll notice a squat, square, unfinished tower on the south side, but no matching tower on the north. Initial work on the cathedral proceeded from 1892 but competing architectural visions slowed construction. Building efforts stalled entirely at the beginning of World War II and the congregation’s priorities shifted. They saw growing social needs in their community, like poverty, homelessness, and hunger, and they questioned whether they should continue to pour funds into construction. Work resumed in 1979 but stalled in 1997. Today, building efforts focus on preservation and basic improvements at a cost of about $11 million dollars a year. The cathedral is known by the nickname “St. John the Unfinished.”

Closer to home, Boldt Castle, located on Heart Island in the St. Lawrence, was never completed. In 1900, George Boldt, the proprietor of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, hired 300 laborers to construct a 120-room Rhineland-style castle for his beloved wife Louise. Four years after construction began, Louise suddenly died. The heartbroken husband abandoned the project and never set foot on the island again. For seventy-five years, the site sat abandoned and unfinished until in 1977 the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority acquired the property and opened it for visitors.

In our reading from Luke’s gospel, Jesus used hyperbole— a form of argument that embraces exaggeration—to make a point. Jesus cautioned his disciples about the cost of discipleship with dire-sounding words about family alienation, incomplete building projects, and unwinnable wars. The Lord was on his way to Jerusalem for that fateful final Passover. He was accompanied by large crowds of would-be disciples. The expectations of the crowd about what would go down in Jerusalem were radically different from what Jesus knew would unfold. The crowds thought they would have a ringside seat for healing miracles and earthshaking preaching. Many must have hoped that Jesus would bring change to the religious establishment ensconced in the Temple. Some were hoping for regime change, thinking that Jesus would be a militaristic Messiah, like the Maccabees, who could cast out their Roman overlords. No one wanted to hear that a cross awaited Jesus in Jerusalem. No one wanted to hear that crosses could await many who dared to follow the Lord.

All of Jesus’ apostles would know persecution and eleven of the twelve would face execution. James the Son of Zebedee would be the first, beheaded by the Romans in the year 44. Andrew was crucified on an x-shaped cross in the Greek city of Patras in the year 60. Peter was crucified upside down four years later during the persecution of Christians by the Emperor Nero. Jude was crucified in Persia. Thomas was run through with spears in India. Matthew was impaled and beheaded in Ethiopia. You see my point. The only apostle to die a natural death was John the Beloved, but he and his church were persecuted so harshly that they were forced to flee Israel for the far side of the Mediterranean in what is now western Turkey. Discipleship was costly, indeed, for Jesus’ followers.

It’s hard to know what to do with scripture readings like the one we have today. As first world Christians, not one of us is likely to be executed for our beliefs. Not one of us will be so persecuted for our love of Jesus that we will be forced to flee our homeland. Trey Clark, who teaches preaching at Fuller Seminary says that when we hear Jesus’ words about family alienation and impending oppression or victimization, we are more likely to say “Ouch” than “Amen.” So how do we make sense of it for people here and now?

The circumstances of our lives are very different from Jesus’ first century followers. Taking up our cross and losing our life for the sake of Jesus Christ may look more like death by a thousand paper cuts than a state sponsored execution. Losing our life for Christ involves recognizing that our true purpose and fulfillment are not found in worldly desires but in serving God and others. Authentic discipleship requires a willingness to deny ourselves and take up our cross daily. By embracing the Way of Jesus, we die to self, but we find true life and purpose. The Apostle Paul, who would lose his head for the sake of the gospel, put it this way, “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” There are millions of everyday folks out there, like you and me, who may not have literally died for Jesus’s sake, but they show singular commitment and deep allegiance by following the Lord in costly ways. Jesus lives in them.

I would like to celebrate those thousand paper cuts, the everyday ways that I see people denying themselves and taking up their cross for the sake of the gospel. I’ll name just a few and you can respond with an “Amen!” or an “Ouch!”

We could spend our Sunday mornings paddling our canoe or hitting the trail, doing a home improvement project or having a second cup of coffee, but we choose to come to church and worship our awesome God, and we carry the cross.

We could spend our Wednesday evenings watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune, but we make a joyful noise to the Lord with choir or meet with the deacons or come out for Committee Night, and we carry the cross.

In a world where income inequality is accepted, even as it grows and grows, we could ignore the need of our neighbors, but we share our food offerings and donate two cents a meal for hunger programs, we grow veggies in our Jubilee Garden to share at the Food Pantry and cook lunch for the Community Lunch Box, and we carry the cross.

Living in the remote beauty of the Adirondacks, we could close our eyes to the suffering and injustice of our world, but we advocate for the war weary people of Ukraine, and write letters for the starving children of Gaza, we accompany vulnerable refugees and support the widows and children of Mzuzu Malawi, and we carry the cross.

I could say more, but you see my point. We carry the cross. We die to self and live for Jesus, and when we follow the Lord, yielding our will to God’s will, Jesus lives in us.

Our deaths by a thousand paper cuts begin to build something. It isn’t the National Monument of Scotland, better known as Edinburgh’s disgrace. It isn’t the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, aka St. John the Unfinished. It isn’t even Boldt Castle, although New York State has poured millions of our tax dollars into making the castle an accessible tourist destination. Our deaths by a thousand papercuts build a world that looks like Christ’s Kingdom, where the stranger is welcomed, the hungry are fed, the sick and lonely are visited, and God is glorified. That’s a building project that I want to see through to completion. How about you?

Let’s pick up our crosses, my friends. There is building work to be done.

Resources

E. Trey Clark. “Commentary on Luke 14:25-33” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 7, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-23-3/commentary-on-luke-1425-33-6

Radhika Jhamaria. “15 Famous Unfinished Projects in Architectural History” in Rethinking the Future. Accessed online at https://www.re-thinkingthefuture.com/architects-lounge/a1289-15-famous-unfinished-projects-in-architectural-history-2/

Ellen Newman. “New York City’s St. John the Unfinished” in Hidden in Plain Sight, July 11, 2019. Accessed online at https://hidden-insite.com/2019/07/08/new-york-citys-st-john-the-unfinished/

Jenna Intersemone. “Massive Building Projects That Were Never Finished” in House Digest, Dec. 7, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.housedigest.com/663379/massive-building-projects-that-were-never-finished/ Edinburgh

Jack Wellman. “How Did the 12 Apostles Die?” in What Christians Want to Know. https://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/how-did-the-12-apostles-die-a-bible-study/

Luke 14:25-32

²⁵Now large crowds were traveling with him, and he turned and said to them, ²⁶“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. ²⁷Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. ²⁸For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? ²⁹Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, ³⁰saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ ³¹Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? ³²If he cannot, then while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace.

August 31, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Friends in Low Places

Limitless Compassion

August 24, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Limitless Compassion” Luke 13:10-17

Jimmy has spent most of his life feeling invisible. Born with developmental disability and a host of physical issues, he spent most of his childhood in foster care. He attended school, riding in a special bus and learning in special classrooms. Other kids called him names: retard, freak, spazz, dumbo. Nowadays, Jimmy is largely ignored as he stands outside his group home to watch the cars drive past. Eyes look past him as if he isn’t even there.

Heather feels invisible. Every day at lunch she sits in the corner of the cafeteria by herself. She wears outdated hand-me-downs and packs her lunch in a re-used brown paper bag. In gym class, no one picks her for their team. When it’s time for group projects, no one wants to work with her. She sees cliques of friends laughing in the hallways and wishes she were part of that. Eyes look past or around her as if she isn’t even there.

Bert and Jean feel invisible. They had been retired for a number of years when the pandemic forced them to also step back from their civic commitments. Their phone used to ring off the hook. But now, not so much. Many of their friends have passed on. Their kids and grandkids are just so busy. Some weeks, the Meals on Wheels driver is their only conversation partner. They don’t get out much, but when they do, eyes look past or around them as if they aren’t even there.

The world is filled with neighbors who feel alienated, invisible, and alone. You might think that would awaken a mass wave of empathetic outreach, but it doesn’t. Social scientists say our disregard for vulnerable others is a psychological phenomenon known as “compassion collapse.” Dr. Caryl Cameron, director of the Empathy and Moral Psychology Lab at Penn State University, writes that “People tend to feel and act less compassionately for multiple suffering victims than for a single suffering victim…. Precisely when it seems to be needed the most, compassion is felt the least.”

There are reasons for that. We are finite beings with limited resources. We may feel that our action (or inaction) doesn’t make a difference, so we withdraw. Or, we sometimes don’t get involved to protect ourselves. In the face of widespread tragedy and need, it becomes crushing to take on the pain of others. We grow numb and feel powerless.

The bent over woman was invisible to her neighbors. She had felt alone and unseen for eighteen years. In the world of the first century, she was a marginalized person—someone who lived outside the community of the righteous because she was physically deformed, spirit-possessed, and a woman. Anyone who has ever had a bad back can imagine the terrible discomfort that she must have felt: muscle spasms; neck pain; difficulty in rising, standing, or walking; the inability to look up and out at the world around her. At some point in her long years of suffering, compassion collapse kicked in for her community. She stopped being a neighbor and simply become the “bent over woman.” She would not have been seated in church on the day that Jesus preached. Instead, she would have been excluded, waiting at the entrance, hoping that someone would see her and speak a kind word into her life of suffering.

Only one person in the synagogue saw the bent over woman. It was Jesus. As only Jesus could, he instantly knew her suffering and need, and his heart went out to her with a limitless compassion that stretched the bounds of what was socially and religiously acceptable in his day. Carolyn Sharp, who teaches Hebrew Bible at Yale, notes that what one could or couldn’t do on the sabbath day was hotly contested in the first century. In fact, the Mishnah Shabbat, a collection of rabbinic teachings, forbade 39 different kinds of labor on the sabbath: sowing fields, baking, building, traveling, and more. It did not forbid healing. In fact, rabbis generally agreed that in life threatening situations, it was acceptable to heal. The rabbis divided, though, over whether healing for non-critical conditions, like being bent over, was permitted.

That’s a long walk to say that Jesus saw the woman and chose to act in controversial, even scandalous, ways. First, he invited her into the sanctuary, into the community of the righteous—to the Moses Seat—where he had been teaching. Then, Jesus did something even more provocative. He laid his hands on her bent over back and raised her up straight, freeing her from the disability that had long held her in bondage. Jesus next concluded his sermon for the day with an interpretation of scripture that silenced the critics. If God would permit a farmer to unbind, water, and feed livestock on the sabbath day, then surely it was permitted to free a woman from the spirit that had long bound her. Jesus gave the bent over woman a proper name, “Daughter of Abraham,” a sister to all the worshipers that day.

The world is filled with invisible people. Like Jimmy, they live with disability. Like Heather, they are friendless school-aged kids. Like Bert and Jean, they are elderly and alone. They are the non-English speaking workers who clean our hotel rooms or pick our crops. They are the economically challenged neighbors who frequent the Food Pantry or collect the empty cans and bottles after rugby weekend. They’d like to be seen, but eyes look past or around them as if they aren’t even there.

Jesus’ scandalous actions in a crowded synagogue one sabbath morning call us to see our invisible neighbors, to welcome them into the heart of the community, to make a caring and healing difference in their lives. Thomas Merton wrote that compassion is the keen awareness of the interdependence of all things. We cannot find wholeness—shalom—apart from community, and communities cannot be whole until the outsider, the excluded, and the marginalized are welcomed, accepted, valued, and included. In a world where some characterize compassion and empathy as weakness, today’s teaching from Jesus is a bold contradiction and a call to action.

Of course, there’s only one problem: compassion collapse. In a world where need can be ubiquitous, our compassion can be overwhelmed. We say, what can one person do in the face of such large-scale pain? We grow numb. We close our eyes. People become invisible. What are we to do?

Peter W. Marty, editor of the Christian Century, says that he builds compassion for those who live in difficult circumstances through the simple practice of imagining what it’s like to walk in their shoes. He does this when he encounters people in daily life who perform jobs that he’s not sure he could manage or tolerate for even a day. Whether it’s an individual enduring dangerous work conditions, tedious assignments, a hostile environment, or depressingly low wages, Marty tries to picture trading his life for theirs. It quickly his alters perspective and shifts his assumptions about how easy or hard life can be for those who undertake hazardous or dispiriting work that often goes unnoticed, work for which we typically feel indifference.

Researchers David DeSteno and Daniel Lim have conducted research to learn how we can have more resilient compassion. Through a series of studies, Lim and DeSteno identified a few factors that enliven our compassion and enhance our capacity to act. It begins with the belief that small steps can make a difference. We can’t solve all the problems of the world, but we can make a simple difference in the life of someone who needs our encouragement and support. It also helps to remember our own experiences of adversity. Remembering our past challenges, suffering, or need motivates us to accompany others. Finally, our personal practice of prayer and meditation can help us to be present to those invisible neighbors. Taking the time to pray and reflect allows us to trust that our actions serve a holy purpose and God is with us. When we are clean out of compassion, we can borrow some of the limitless compassion of Jesus. The world may be filled with invisible people, but it doesn’t have to be. Jesus believes we can make a difference in the lives of those who feel that they are on the outside looking in, longing for care, connection, and community.

This week, we’ll encounter them, those invisible neighbors. They’ll be sitting alone in Stewarts. They’ll be smoking outside their group home. They’ll be struggling to carry groceries to the car. They’ll fear they will miss that important doctor’s appointment because they don’t have a ride.

Let’s open our eyes and hearts. Take the time to see your invisible neighbor. Imagine what it’s like to walk in their shoes. Let’s remember our own experiences of adversity and isolation: that bitter break-up, the boss who bullied us, the health crisis we endured, the time we went broke. Let’s allow those suffering times to awaken our empathy for others and build our resolve to act. Undertake small compassionate acts and trust that they make a difference. Smile. Listen. Share a meal. Offer a ride. Bring someone to church. Finally, let’s ground our action in reflection and prayer. Remember Jesus, who healed a bent-over woman on the sabbath day and continues to long for the wholeness and redemption of our world.

Resources

Jared E. Alcantara. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 24, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-6

Jeannine K. Brown. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 22, 2010. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17

Ira Brent Driggers. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 25, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-4

Annelise Jolley. “The Paradox of Our Collapsing Compassion” in John Templeton Foundation News, Nov. 20,2024. Accessed online at https://www.templeton.org/news/the-paradox-of-our-collapsing-compassion

Peter W. Marty. “A Failure of Compassion” in The Christian Century, June 2024. Accessed online at https://www.christiancentury.org/first-words/failure-compassion

Carolyn J. Sharp. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 21, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-5

Luke 13:10-17

¹⁰Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. ¹¹And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. ¹²When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” ¹³When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. ¹⁴But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the Sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured and not on the Sabbath day.” ¹⁵But the Lord answered him and said, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it to water? ¹⁶And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day?” ¹⁷When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame, and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things being done by him.

The Great Cloud of Witnesses

August 17, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Great Cloud of Witnesses” Hebrews 11:29-12:2

In June, Duane and I traveled to Portugal and Spain to walk the Camino de Santiago. It’s an extended network of medieval pilgrim paths that crisscross the European countryside, all leading to the burial site of the Apostle James, the son of Zebedee. Our Camino journey would take us over 230 miles of trail from Porto, Portugal’s second largest city, to Santiago, and then on to the coast to Finisterre.

There were companions on our journey. About 75,000 people from all around the world will walk the coastal Camino from Portugal this year. They walk for many reasons. Some are expressing religious devotion. Others are in search of spiritual insight or self-knowledge. Some just want a good workout. One of the first pilgrims I met while walking was Karen, a Lutheran from Sweden. Karen narrowly escaped an aortic dissection when an x-ray for a persistent cough revealed a big bubble on the major artery near her heart. Her emergency surgery and journey to healing made her realize she wanted to walk the Camino. Less than two years out from my own experience of breast cancer, we connected with a shared sense of gratitude for restored health. The tough miles flew by as we talked, shared, and laughed together.

The Letter to the Hebrews was written for early Christians who were struggling in their journey of faith. They had made a good start on their pilgrim path. Enlightened by the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Hebrews had been filled with the Holy Spirit. They forged a caring community, loving and serving one another. But weariness, suspicion, and persecution, had challenged their faith. Neighbors who had once been friends now shunned them. Local authorities threatened them with prison. Even the emperor had begun to target them as enemies of Rome. Beset by adversity, the faith of the Hebrews was beginning to flag and fail. They questioned if the suffering was worth it, or if they could persevere through adversity. Some were neglecting to meet together.

We, too, can grow weary on the journey. Our chronic health issues wear us down and dim our hopes. Family troubles ramp up our worries and anxiety. Grief at the loss of loved ones feels like we are sojourning in the dark. Vitriol and chaos in American politics has us fearing for the future of our nation. As bombs fall in Ukraine and food aid is dangerously slow to relieve Gaza, man’s inhumanity to man tears our heartstrings and troubles our spirits. We know how it feels to be weary and overwhelmed. We know how it feels to struggle to find hope. We know how easy it is to become paralyzed, held fast by concerns that overwhelm us and in a quandary about what to do in response to circumstances that feel beyond our control.

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews reminded his friends that others had trod the pilgrim path before them. In seeking a good life with God, their ancestors had experienced trouble and hardship along the way. The Israelites had been only one step ahead of the Egyptian army as they ran for it thought the Red Sea. Gideon, Samson, Jephthah, and David had all fought impossible battles against better equipped enemies to defend their people. The Hebrew prophets may have had a holy hotline to God, but they were roundly persecuted and martyred. Somehow, those ancestors had found the temerity to persevere in faith, trusting that they were following the will of God and would one day fully know God.

Our journeys can be hard. The Camino was hard. I had trained and thought I was ready for the challenge. My trail walks and Adirondack hikes felt like the perfect preparation, but nothing really prepares you for the long miles, day after day, week after week. There were blisters for me and heel pain for Duane. There were temperatures soaring well into the 90s and a sun so intense that it burned me through my clothes. Washed out trails sometimes meant we had to walk on busy roads. Bathrooms were few and far between. Sometimes trail markers were missing or just plain wrong. It helped on our Camino journey to remember those who had gone before us. After all, pilgrims had been walking those paths for more than 1,200 years. They didn’t have the advantage of Adirondack training, zero-drop trail shoes, or Gregory packs. If they could do it, I could do it.

On the Camino, hardship is also faced as pilgrims support one another. My Swedish companion Karen and I met Suzie. A stewardess from Idaho, Suzie was about to turn 50 and had decided to celebrate her big birthday by walking the Camino. She looked great in her brand-new matching gear, clothes, and pack, but when we wished her a Buen Camino, we could see she was near tears. We stopped to listen: her knee hurt, her pack was painful, she didn’t have a place to stay that night, and she had gotten lost the day before and a farmer had needed to give her a ride for miles back to the trail. Soon, we were adjusting Suzie’s pack, sharing blister plasters, and commiserating about the journey. That night, another friend we met along the way, Laura from Texas, shared her lodging with Suzie—and Laura continued to do so all the way to Santiago.

We, too, have encountered those who make our way easier. Healthcare providers take a special interest in our recovery. Caring friends compassionately listen to our family woes and offer words of wisdom. Companions for the journey show up when we feel like we are walking though the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Level-headed leaders remind us of our nation’s founding principles and call us to be a better people, a better nation, a better world. We find encouragement for the journey as we attend to that great cloud of witnesses who have lived in faith and call us onward to the better path and the brighter kingdom.

The closing scene of our reading from Hebrews is borrowed from the first century athletic arena: a marathon race nears its end as competitors turn into a stadium for a final lap. An overflowing crowd cheers them on. Waiting to welcome them at the finish line is the glorified Jesus, now revealed in holy splendor. He has gone on before through sorrow, unimaginable suffering, and even death—and he is the victor. The Hebrews were reminded that they could run this race in faith because they were surrounded by that great cloud of cheering witnesses. Jesus had gone ahead of them and waited to welcome them to his Kingdom where sorrow and suffering and sighing would be transformed to never ending joy.

On the second day of our Camino journey, when the realization sank in that this would not be a cake walk, I remembered a word of advice from the spiritual reading that I had done in preparation for the journey. Traditionally, pilgrims have coped with their physical suffering by praying for others, sometimes even carrying a stone or a token that represents the burden of the other. As you walk the Camino, you can see impromptu trailside shrines, piles of stones, tokens, notes, and photos where pilgrims have left behind the burden they are carrying for another. As I posted to Facebook and Instagram that evening, I sent out a plea to the Metaverse—send me your special prayer requests.

In they came, from this church and from other churches that I have served, from friends and family, from the community. There were prayers for personal struggles, for health concerns, for beloved ones going through tough times, for the nation, and more. Each morning, as I set my feet on the pilgrim path, I began to pray. My silent prayers found the rhythm of my breath and unfurled into the beauty of the Galician countryside. As the miles unraveled, I found that I hurt a lot less, I felt more at peace, and there was joy. I began to see that I was surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. It wasn’t just those who were pilgrims around me and those who had walked the Camino before me over the eons. It was also those who had coveted my prayers, and all the people they had asked me to intercede for—and all the people who I knew were praying for me. We were all in it together. Best of all, Jesus was on the pilgrim path, Jesus who always walks this pilgrim journey with us.

May we follow in the footsteps of the Hebrews. Persist in the faith, my friends. Rise above weariness, hardship, and suffering. Draw strength from that great cloud of witnesses. Be confident in the meaning, purpose, and salvation that we have found in the Lord.

May we also know that we have a part to play in the faithful journeys of others. Indeed, we are part of that great cloud of witnesses, for we are all made one in Christ, our pioneer, our protector, our trailblazer. We are called to help and pray, to show up and cheer on, to point the way and keep the faith. We can make a difference in the lives of those who feel the journey is long, the way is dark, and there is no end in sight. Let’s open our eyes to those who need our witness. Let’s open our hearts and hands to make a caring difference. They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Let’s step out in faith. Amen.

Resources:

Madison N. Pierce. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 17, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-6

Mary Foskett. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 18, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-4

Amy L.B. Peeler. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 14, 2016. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-2

Erik Heen. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 18, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-3

John Piper. “Running with the Witnesses” in Desiring God, August 17, 1997. Accessed online at desiringGod.org.

Hebrews 11:29-12:2

²⁹By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as if it were dry land, but when the Egyptians attempted to do so they were drowned. ³⁰By faith the walls of Jericho fell after they had been encircled for seven days. ³¹By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient, because she had received the spies in peace.

³²And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets, ³³who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, ³⁴quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. ³⁵Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. ³⁶Others suffered mocking and flogging and even chains and imprisonment. ³⁷They were stoned to death; they were sawn in two; they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented— ³⁸of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains and in caves and holes in the ground.

³⁹Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, ⁴⁰since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect.

12 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, ²looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

Photo by Steffen A. Pfeiffer on Pexels.com

Beyond Fear

April 27, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / 2 Comments

Sabbath Day Thoughts — Beyond Fear John 20:19-23; Psalm 23

For 1,200 years, people have been walking the Camino de Santiago, the Way of St. James. It’s a network of trails that snake across Europe, leading to the Great Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain. According to tradition, the Apostle James the Great (the son of Zebedee) was the first to take the gospel to Spain, traveling to the Iberian Peninsula on the frontier of the Roman Empire and sharing the good news of Jesus Christ. When James returned to Jerusalem, he ran afoul of King Herod Agrippa, who ordered the evangelist to be beheaded, making him the first of the apostles to be martyred. James’ followers collected his body and took it by boat to Spain, where it still lies entombed in the Great Cathedral.

In the Middle Ages, as the black death swept across Europe and the Moors swept across the Mediterranean, the church encouraged pilgrims to travel to Santiago as an act of devotion that was a safer alternative to Jerusalem. Some were even prescribed the journey as penance for sin. William Wey of Eton College in England made the pilgrimage in 1456. In his account of his journey, William wrote, “Whoever has come on pilgrimage to the church of St. James, son of Zebedee, at any time, has one-third of all his sins remitted.” There must have been many people looking for absolution because William noted the diversity of the pilgrims: “They included English, Welsh, Irish, Normans, Bretons, and others.” Medieval pilgrims set out on foot from across the continent, some with little more than a pilgrim’s staff and the clothes on their backs. Along the way, they were tended by monastic hostels and refuges that provided food and a safe night’s lodging.

Nowadays, pilgrims walk the Way of St. James for many reasons. About 43% of people continue to walk for spiritual reasons, as an act of devotion, a time or prayer, or a rite of penance. Others, who may be spiritual but not religious, say they are seeking. A middle-aged man who is a self-confessed couch potato says he walked the Camino to find peace with the grief of his past. A newly graduated college student says that she walked for discernment, hoping she would find direction and purpose for her professional path. An overburdened youth counselor took a break from her practice because she needed to shed the non-stop needs of others and make time for herself. In June, Duane and I will embark on the pilgrim path that leads from Portugal to Santiago as an act of devotion, prayer, and spiritual renewal.

John’s Gospel tells us that James the Son of Zebedee was frightened. With his fellow apostles, he hid behind a locked door on Easter evening for fear of persecution. Mary Magdalene had returned early in the day with the amazing and joyous news that she had seen the risen Lord. God had broken the power of sin and death. But on Easter evening, Mary’s good news had not made a dent in the disciples’ despair. They feared arrest, torture, execution. They feared the cross.

Fear—and its friends worry and anxiety—are an essential part of being human. We need fear to galvanize us to take action, to make bold choices, and to prompt our personal growth. But when fear drives our bus, we can get into trouble. Fear, worry, and anxiety can keep us from getting a good night’s sleep, have a negative impact on our job performance, and undermine our relationships with colleagues, friends, and beloved ones. Fear can generate a host of unpleasant physical symptoms, too: muscle tension, headache, upset stomach, lightheadedness, diarrhea, and increased heart rate and respiration. Chronic fear and worry prompt our sympathetic nervous system to release stress hormones, raise our blood sugar, and boost our tri-glycerides. Unchecked fear can lead to chronic health problems, everything from irritable bowel syndrome to asthma and heart disease. For 57 million Americans, chronic fear takes the form of crippling anxiety that compromises their ability to live full and balanced lives.

To be human is to live with fear. That must be why God’s presence in the midst of our fear is one of the most persistent of God’s promises in scripture. When the aging, childless, patriarch Abraham cried out to God in fear that he would die and be forgotten, God answered, “Do not be afraid, I am your shield” (Gen. 15:1). When the Israelites feared that they would perish at the hands of their enemies in the wilderness, God promised, “Do not lose heart or be afraid or panic or be in dread, for it is the Lord who goes with you to fight for you and give you victory” (Deut. 20:1-4). When Joshua and the people prepared to cross over into the unknown land that God had given to them, God again encouraged them, “Do not fear or be dismayed. It is the Lord who will be with you. He will not fail or forsake you” (Deut. 31:7-8). God kept those promises. Abraham and Sarah gave birth to Isaac. The Israelites endured the wilderness with manna in the morning, quails at nightfall, and protection from fierce enemies. With God’s help, Joshua and the twelve tribes took possession of that land that flowed with milk and honey. Even today, as we face our fears, we are likely to keep them at bay with the promises of scripture. We pray with the words of the Psalmist, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.”

Those fearful disciples found a remedy for their fear on Easter evening. Neither a locked door nor the overwhelming terror of persecution could keep Jesus out. There he was in their midst, bringing repeated words of peace and the assurance that he truly was with them, ready to share his wounds to make his point. The apostles’ fear transformed to joy with alleluias, tears of happiness, and words of praise filling that upper room.

What happened next has piqued the interest of Bible scholars ever since. Some call it the Little Pentecost. Like God in the Garden of Eden puffing the breath of life into Adam and Eve, Jesus breathed on his friends. As the Spirit of Jesus filled the disciples, they became a new creation. They found the courage to be sent as Jesus was sent—out into a world that might reject them, that might persecute them. James the Son of Zebedee found his thoughts turning to the edges of the empire, to the wilds of Iberia and the people who waited in fear for the assurance of God’s presence and love.

We all live with fear. This morning, we may even have some fears that are related to the “s” word—that’s right sabbatical. Elders and deacons may feel a little overwhelmed by impending new responsibilities. Church staff may feel worried about not having the boss around for direction or moral support. We may all feel worried about Sunday mornings—other voices in the pulpit. Men! They’ll have different styles of worship leadership—and who knows what songs we’ll be forced to sing. We may feel anxious that we won’t have our pastor to listen to our concerns, visit us when we are under the weather, or preside at a memorial service.

I’ll even confess some of my personal fears. I worry that no one will come to church in my absence, or that you’ll all opt out of the special learning opportunities of this sabbatical time for the church. I worry about leaving our dog Gybi with family while we fly off to walk the Way of St. James. And what if in our trekking across Portugal and Spain, Duane or I are injured? This sabbatical is an amazing opportunity for pastor and parish alike. But even wonderful opportunities can stir fear within us. Can’t they?

Perhaps we can find a remedy for our fears in the example of James the Son of Zebedee, who left his fear behind and went forth to the Roman frontier with good news that would transform Iberia, news that still inspires pilgrims to walk the Way of St. James today (at least 42% of us). We can remember that the Spirit of Jesus breathes in us, comforting and encouraging, inspiring and leading. We can move past our fears because Christ will be with us and in us, even closer than the beating of our own hearts. We have what it takes to face everything that the next fifteen weeks will bring our way because Jesus is with us.

I want to finish up my message with some words of assurance. I’ll be naming some situations that may arise in the coming weeks. Then you’ll respond with the words, “the Lord will be with us.” Are we ready?

When worship isn’t led exactly as we would like, or we are forced to sing a new hymn, the Lord will be with us.

When announcements don’t make it into the bulletin, or no one signs up for Coffee Hour, the Lord will be with us.

When we get out of our comfort zone to meet in small groups or retreat to Montreal or join a Sermon on the Trail, the Lord will be with us.

When our muscles ache and our feet are sore from a long day of hiking, the Lord will be with us.

When we take a wrong turn, and we miss our dog and our friends and our family and our church, the Lord will be with us.

In all this and more, who will be with us? That’s right – the Lord!

May we find the ability to move beyond all those fears, worries, and uncertainties in the sure and certain knowledge that the Lord is with us, his very Spirit breathes in us. We will survive sabbatical—we may even thrive—because the Lord will be with us.

Resources

Kristin John Largen. “Theological Perspective on John 20:19-33” in Feasting on the Gospels: John, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

E. Elizabeth Johnson. “Pastoral Perspective on John 20:19-33” in Feasting on the Gospels: John, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

Susan Grove Eastman. “Exegetical Perspective on John 20:19-33” in Feasting on the Gospels: John, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

Paul Simpson Duke. “Homiletical Perspective on John 20:19-33” in Feasting on the Gospels: John, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

James Johnston. “STEPS: Why People Walk the Camino de Santiago.” Accessed online at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzPmdAd0Oek&t=485s

–. Harvard Health Publications. “Anxiety and Physical Illness,” July 1, 2008. Accessed on-line at health.harvard.edu.

Jillian Reid. “Medieval pilgrim shell tokens & St James’ Way” in The Blog of the London Museum, April 24, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.londonmuseum.org.uk/blog/medieval-pilgrim-shell-tokens-and-st-james-way/

John 20:19-23

¹⁹When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” ²⁰After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. ²¹Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” ²²When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. ²³If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

Psalm 23

¹The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
²    He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
³    he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
    for his name’s sake.

⁴Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
    I fear no evil,
for you are with me;
    your rod and your staff,
    they comfort me.

⁵You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.
⁶Surely^[e] goodness and mercy shall follow me
    all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
    my whole life long.

Photo by Gyu0151zu0151 Mu00f3rocz on Pexels.com

Meeting the Gardener

April 22, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Meeting the Gardener” John 20:1-18

The world is filled with weeping places this morning. In northern Nigeria, vulnerable people are hungry. They live with lingering violence of the terrorist organization Boko Haram, which has made international headlines for abductions, murders, and other criminal activity. They’ve been hit by natural and manmade disasters, too. Flooding has caused crops to fail. Corruption and poor governance exploit the poor, serve the rich, and sell justice to the highest bidder. According to Nigerian Peacemaker Peter Egwudah, life in northern Nigeria is a long-running struggle with food insecurity. Hardest hit are women, children, the elderly, and those with disabilities.

The world is filled with weeping places this morning. The family of Kilmar Abrego Garcia is weeping. Kilmar came to the United States illegally from El Salvador in 2011, sent north by his family to escape gang violence there. Here, he has worked construction, married Jennifer Vasquez Sura—a US citizen, and supported his family. His five-year-old child has autism, is deaf in one ear, and cannot communicate verbally. Kilmar was mistakenly accused of being an MS-13 gang member by a paid informant, who had never met him or even been in the same state. Last month, he was deported to the Terrorism Confinement Center in Tecoluca, El Salvador. Although the courts have called for his release and return, the Abrego Garcia family waits and weeps, unsure if they will ever see their husband and father again.

The world is filled with weeping places this morning. We know those who weep: the neighbor who struggles with a bleak diagnosis, the friend who has lost a job, the parent who laments the untimely death of a child, the family member who wrestles with addiction, the person on a fixed income whose retirement savings have been hard hit by volatile markets. We know those who weep; sometimes we are the ones who weep.

It is hard to see the Lord when we are in our weeping places. Just ask Mary Magdalene. Mary walked to the tomb in the pre-dawn darkness. Her footsteps echoed through the streets of the sleeping city. Her heart was heavy with memories of recent days. A week ago, Jesus had made a triumphal entry to Jerusalem, but things had gone terribly and unthinkably wrong. Powerful opponents had conspired to bring about his arrest through the betrayal of a trusted friend. Injustice had been served by both the Temple court and Pontius Pilate. On Friday, Mary’s world had descended into violence and chaos as her teacher was brutally beaten and scourged, taunted with insults and mockery, reviled in hate, and crucified. Mary wept at the tomb, thinking that the world’s evil had outmatched God’s goodness, and now her Lord was nowhere to be found. Mary wept.

It is hard to see the Lord when we are in our weeping places. When the doctor breaks the bad news or the boss hands us the pink slip, we wonder “Why me, God?” When we are bowed down with grief and cannot see tomorrow, we ask, “Why this, Lord?” When addiction controls our lives and wreaks havoc within our families we ask, “Where are you, God?” When we are gripped by fear and worried about the future, we lament “Lord, why would you let this happen?” In our weeping places, we feel powerless and overwhelmed. In our weeping places, we fear that God is distant and we are alone.

As she raised her voice in lamentation outside the empty tomb, Mary learned that Christ was with her in her weeping place. Eyes blurred by tears and ears closed with grief, Mary first mistook Jesus for the gardener, come to clean up any mess left behind by Friday’s hasty burial. But then her tears came to an end as she heard her name, “Mary,” spoken by that most beloved of voices.

On Easter morning, we remember Mary’s tears, and we proclaim again the beautiful, terrible truth of the incarnation and the cross. God loved us so much that God would become flesh and live among us with mercy, healing, and infinite compassion. God’s love would stop at nothing to be reconciled to us and to reconcile us to one another—willing even suffering death upon a cross. But God’s love wins the victory over sin and death. God shows up in our weeping places with our name upon God’s lips and a purpose for our lives.

On Easter morning, we can face our tears head on, because we see that we are not alone. When the test results arrive and the doctor shakes her head, the risen Lord is with us. When the pink slip is in and the job possibilities are out, the risen Christ is with us. When untimely loss sends us into the valley of the shadow of death, we are not alone for God is with us. When we feel brought low by addiction or hardship, economic chaos or uncertain times, we trust that Jesus is in our midst with a love that is stronger than all the tears our world can serve up.

Bible scholars like to call our attention to the placement of Jesus’ tomb within a garden. They say it recalls God’s amazing work of creation, described in the first chapters of Genesis. They say that in breaking the power of sin and death upon the cross, God made a new creation. The separation between humanity and God came to an end, our alienation from one another is over. As new creations, we can go forth in holy, healed, and unexpected ways. It was true for Mary Magdalene. There in the garden, outside the empty tomb, Jesus the gardener gave Mary a new vocation. She became an evangelist. He sent her forth to a weeping world with a message of resurrection hope, “I have seen the Lord.”

On this Easter Sunday, may we, too, know that we are a new creation. May we, like Mary, see that we have a new vocation. We are sent into the world with the hopeful message that we have seen the Lord. Yes, the world abounds with weeping places, and yet God’s love is stronger than our tears, stronger than the hurt and harm that cause our eyes to fill and our hearts to tremble. As we go forth into the world’s weeping places, we point to the presence of Jesus, who continues to walk among the hurting and broken people of our world who fear they are alone.

Today, we will share the good news of Christ’s presence with the vulnerable people of northern Nigeria through One Great Hour of Sharing. Since 2017, our contributions have supported the work of the Civil Society Coalition for Poverty Eradication (CISCOPE). CISCOPE is at work in northern Nigeria, Sudan, Somalia, and Yemen, places where 20% families experience a severe lack of food. Beyond meeting emergency needs, CISCOPE helps families to find long-range food sufficiency through vegetable seed, agricultural machinery, teaching farming practices, and training for disaster preparedness. 70% of those helped by CISCOPE are women, children, and vulnerable people who have traditionally been ignored.

How do we bear witness to Jesus for families like that of Kilmar Abrego Garcia? It’s challenging in this highly-politicized partisan climate, where one faction characterizes Kilmar as a violent criminal while the other side champions him as a local hero. We can begin by remembering that there are families at the heart of the immigration crisis. Kilmar is the public face of an international tragedy in a world where violence, disaster, and extreme poverty have forced people from homes in places like Central America, Africa, Syria, Afghanistan, and Haiti. They flee in search of safety and opportunity. They come to lands that welcome their undocumented, underpaid labor but prefer that they remain strangers to us, subsisting in the shadows on the scraps of the land of plenty. For Kilmar and those like him around the world, we remember that Jesus, too, was a migrant. We point to the infant messiah, whose parents were forced by threat of political violence to flee their homeland and sojourn in the land of Egypt. What might our policies and actions look like, if we envisioned the infant Jesus caught in the crossfire?

What does pointing to the presence of Jesus look like for the hurting people whom we know, those who fear and mourn, despair and weep? We can begin by going to the tomb, showing up and being present for folks who weep with shared tears and abounding compassion. When the time is right, we can try, like Mary, to share how we have “seen the Lord” in our own times of hardship, loss, and pain. We can bear witness to our hurting friends and neighbors with more than words: with hot meals, honey-dos, and practical support; with abounding prayer, phone calls, and cards; with generous encouragement and lots of listening.

On Easter morning, the world is filled with weeping places, my friends, but it is also filled with the presence of Christ. The Lord has risen; he has risen indeed. We have seen the Lord. Let us go forth to those who weep with the good news of God’s amazing love.

Resources

Ben Finley. “Who is Kilmar Abrego Garcia, the man ICE mistakenly deported to an El Salvador prison?” in The Associated Press, April 18, 2025.

Rich Copley. “How your One Great Hour of Sharing gifts are used” in Presbyterian News Service, April 6, 2022. Accessed online at https://pcusa.org/news-storytelling/news/2022/4/6/how-your-one-great-hour-sharing-gifts-are-used

Joy J. Moore. “Commentary on John 20:1-18” in Preaching This Week, April 21, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/resurrection-of-our-lord-3/commentary-on-john-201-18-10

Alicia D. Myers. “Commentary on John 20:1-18” in Preaching This Week, April 12, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/resurrection-of-our-lord/commentary-on-john-201-18-11

Jason Ripley. “Commentary on John 20:1-18” in Preaching This Week, April 20, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/resurrection-of-our-lord-3/commentary-on-john-201-18-19

Rolf Jacobson. “For Such a Time as This” in Dear Working Preacher, April 5, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/for-a-time-such-as-this

Paul Simpson Duke. “Homiletical Perspective on John 20:11-18” in Feasting on the Gospels, John, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

John 20:1-18

20 Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. ²So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” ³Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. ⁴The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. ⁵He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. ⁶Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, ⁷and the cloth that had been on Jesus’s head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. ⁸Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed, ⁹for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. ¹⁰Then the disciples returned to their homes. ¹¹But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look^[a] into the tomb, ¹²and she saw two angels in white sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. ¹³They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” ¹⁴When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. ¹⁵Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir,^[b] if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” ¹⁶Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew,^[c] “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). ¹⁷Jesus said to her, “Do not touch me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ” ¹⁸Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord,” and she told them that he had said these things to her.