It is knowing the truth is not only hard to say, but it is also hard to hear. When we speak the truth in love, it does not have a sharp edge to it, like a razor blade; but we say it with all of the compassion and mercy we can muster.
Our faith reminds us at every turn — God’s power is made perfect in weakness. It’s a truth that is as mysterious as the experience of love: an all-powerful, all-knowing God is found in suffering and despair.
No matter who we are we are all in need in one way or another. It can lead us to God, receiving God’s compassion or offering it to somebody else.
It is helpful, at times, to step outside of our routine and to take our theology for a walk.
The good news is we do not have to understand how it all works. We just need to know where to find it.
As the children of the church are building faith, community, and neighborhood, what are the tools we are giving them today that will serve them tomorrow?
Clay jars were the paper plates of the first century, so Paul is saying, “We have this treasure on paper plates.”
This is what happens on Pentecost, as we remember the Spirit of God blowing through the room and giving life to the Church.
Psalm 1 can become our prayer, “God, teach us the ways of Jesus. Root our lives in the stream of your grace. May we live in your mercy and abide in your wisdom.”
When we step out into a larger world, we discover a new song to sing, but it just might be to a familiar tune. A tune we learned long ago.