Jesus’ march to Jerusalem at the start of Holy Week is full of clues for us today.

Scripture study tells us that there were likely two marches happening that week:

Jesus, coming from the east, and Pilate, from the west.

The backdrop for the scene is the Feast of Passover. Passover in the ancient world (when there was still a temple standing in Jerusalem) was a remarkable, exciting, high-energy, and chaotic time.

“When Pentecost Day arrived, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound from heaven like the howling of a fierce wind filled the entire house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be individual flames of fire alighting on each one of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit enabled them to speak.” – Acts 2:1-4

“I solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

There are a lot of half-truths hanging out in our world. Some are innocent and simply don’t catch the whole picture. Others are intentionally deceptive. We encounter these half-truths all over the place, from legislation (especially their titles) to marketing campaigns to our understanding of complex social issues to our relationships to our life of faith. Fact checking is no longer a measure of extra precaution, but a regular way of life.

Nothing worth doing can be accomplished in a lifetime;
therefore, we must be saved by hope.
Nothing true or beautiful or good makes sense
in any immediate context of history;
therefore, we must be saved by faith.
Nothing we do, however virtuous,
can be accomplished alone.
Therefore, we are saved by love.

-Reinhold Niebuhr

Long partners in crime, Brent Tanaka and I were on deck to preach. We’d known each other since we could remember, having been raised up week after week in the comfortable wooden pews of First Church’s 1908 Beaux-Arts sanctuary. Seattle First Church, that is.

No longer toddling around the nursery, we were now part of a small-but-mighty group of youth who descended upon this old downtown church each Sunday with powdered sugar donut holes in one hand and Starbucks coffee in the other. To jazz it up, we painted a labyrinth on the wall of what we affectionately called “the Crow’s Nest”: a random, disconnected room in the corner of the upper balcony that served as the youth space. It was a long stair climb down to the main floor of the Sanctuary and an even longer climb down to the Blaine Room - notable, as it held more snacks.

No powdered sugar on our hands today, though. Today was Youth Sunday.

I’ve been thinking about the moms this week.

On Monday, I had the joy of making a house call to two new moms in our congregation and coo over their 10-day-old bundle of delight. On Sunday, a couple of our musical offerings will be from or about Mary, Jesus’ mom. This weekend, I’ll miss out on the All-Church Workday because I’ll be on our monthly trip to my mom’s adult family home. I’ve been looking at old photos of her, such as the header photo taken the year she began to lose her memory.

This week I’ve been thinking about the Tower of Babel. Do you know the story? 

Around Christmastime, we sometimes need to emphasize to children that Jesus is not watching their every move with scrutiny like the popular tales of Santa Claus, but is rather an accompanying presence that they can always turn to no matter if they feel happy or sad.

This Sunday I shared that the resurrected Jesus’ accompanying presence (and/or watchful eye) really was everywhere – at least that was certainly the case in my office!

This week I’ve been thinking about the Tower of Babel. Do you know the story? 

In the beginning all of God’s people had one language and the same words. They migrated together to a plain in the land of Shinar and settled there. They decided, when there, to build a city. This city would have a tower that reached to the heavens. So the people built a city and a tower that, indeed, reached the heavens. God saw this, and said, “Look! They are one people and they have one language; this is only the beginning of what they will do; nothing that they propose to do now will be impossible for them.” 

The story of these days is a truly disturbing one.

This week we follow the story of a man arrested under a shroud of secrecy, for no clear crime.

“What accusation do you have against this man?” it is asked. The accusers don’t care to provide a steady answer.

It’s for the greater good, the authorities say to themselves. He is dangerous, he threatens our order of life, we must deal with him swiftly, they think.

Instead of releasing those whose crime is uncertain, they petition to release the insurrectionist.

As Diana Butler Bass summarizes, this week we follow the story of a government who “seizes an innocent man, tortures and jails him on trumped-up charges that change during a manipulated ‘legal’ process. The prisoner is left at the mercy of dehumanizing politicians and jailers to do what they please.”

It is Maundy Thursday. It is Thursday, April 17 in America.

In just days, we’ll live it like it’s the first time: palm branches will wave in the air and lay on the ground, the table of God’s grace will be set, the story of the cross will be read again, and we’ll wait what bated breath for what resurrection Easter Sunday will bring. Somewhere in the mix, a few thousand easter eggs will be scattered and (hopefully) found as well!

The ability to change one’s mind is quite possibly the most underrated personal trait.

Detractors call it waffling, inconsistency, lack of confidence, weakness of character - or in extreme circumstances, even betrayal. Proponents know it as cognitive flexibility. The Catholic Church calls it a “clarification.” I call it the greatest leadership skill you can have.

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” (Luke 10:36-37)

Disaster relief is something that follows you. Whenever a healthcare provider asks me how long it has been since my last tetanus shot, I do the mental math on how long it has been since Hurricane Harvey. The heavy-duty overalls hanging in my closet (specifically used for post-ice storm, post-tornado, post-hurricane, post-fire, post-flood work) remind me of the many times when we dropped everything and started coordinating recovery plans because there were people and communities who needed help clearing debris, ripping out flood-contaminated dry wall and carpet, or bleaching the already molding places of their home or church.

Winding through the Old City of Jerusalem, the Via Dolorosa represents the path to the cross. In Jerusalem, this route is marked by 14 Stations of the Cross, positioned from the Antonia Fortress to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. In church halls, sanctuaries, along corridors, and in gardens around the world, different versions of these stations have been created for centuries.

As I assume it is for most partners in the same industry, Paul and I have some very niche home conversations.

As I assume it is for most partners in the same industry, Paul and I have some very niche home conversations.

2025 has already been a full year in the life of our community – even if you don’t count politics!

Paul and I are back from a whirlwind journey to my mother’s motherland: the Philippines. My mom didn’t have the luxury of leisure, so we explored the places she didn’t get to go:

This southern gal gets excited when snow of any kind falls from the sky – we didn’t have much snow where I grew up and a snow day was almost like a once-in-a-lifetime event (okay, three times a year).

In case you missed it this week, the Western Jurisdiction College of Bishops released this statement calling for love, unity, and support for one another during this time in our history. 

Dear Friends,

Once a month in the 10:30 service and weekly in the 8:30 service we celebrate The Great Thanksgiving together. These times are the most holy times in worship for me.