Jesus gets serious about stumbling: 19th after pentecost b

This past weekend, I preached at a congregation I had never been to.  I drew heavily on both River Needham's queery of Numbers and my own queery of Mark to craft the sermon using my usual method.  The events of last week, especially the hearings for the Supreme Court justice, heavily informed my sermon.

Fun fact not included in my sermon: foot is frequently used in the bible to refer to genitalia,
so when Jesus says "If your foot causes you to stumble, cut it off..." you know what that means!

If you have any questions or want to know more about my sermon, let me know!

God messes with our binaries: 23rd after pentecost a

The other reading I reference is 1 Corinthians 1:18-31.

El santo evangelio según San Mateo (25:1-13)

[Jesus said to the disciples:]

¹“Then the dominion of heaven will be likened to this:

      Ten bridesmaids took their lamps

      and went to meet the bridegroom.

            ²Five of them were foolish,

            and five were wise.

                  ³When the foolish took their lamps,

                        they took no oil with them;

                              ⁴but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps.

            ⁵As the bridegroom was delayed,

                  all of them became drowsy and slept.

                        ⁶But at midnight there was a shout,

                              ‘Look! Here is the bridegroom!

                              Come out to meet him.’

                  ⁷Then all those bridesmaids got up

                  and trimmed their lamps.

                        ⁸The foolish said to the wise,

                              ‘Give us some of your oil,

                                    for our lamps are going out.’

                        ⁹But the wise replied,

                              ‘No! there will not be enough for you and for us;

                                    you had better go to the dealers

                                    and buy some for yourselves.’

                  ¹⁰And while they went to buy it,

                        the bridegroom came,

                        and those who were ready went with him into the wedding banquet;

                        and the door was shut.

                              ¹¹Later the other bridesmaids came also, saying,

                                    ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’

                              ¹²But he replied,

                                    ‘Truly I tell you, I do not know you.’

                                          ¹³Keep awake therefore,

                                                for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

El evangelio del Señor.

-----

As I was rereading the gospel throughout this week, 1 Corinthians 1 kept popping into my head.  What does it mean for us to call some bridesmaids wise and others foolish when God messes with our understandings of what is wise and what is foolish?

Is it wise to hoard the oil?  Is it foolish to not bring extra just in case?  Is it wise or foolish to leave to buy more?  To leave the lamps lit while they wait?  To show up late to your own wedding celebration?  To arrive so much earlier than the bridegroom?  To go inside and lock people out?  To pretend not to know someone?

Paul writes, “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.”

God comes to mess with the good/bad binaries that we create.

We are so disposed to sorting the world into categories, especially binaries.  Good or bad, dark or light, women or men.  But the reality is that, as Sirius tells Harry Potter in the Order of the Phoenix, “The world is not split into good people and death eaters.”  It’s just not that simple.

Throughout the bible and throughout our lives of faith, God calls us deeper into the complexities of the world.  As our faith deepens and we come to understand that "when we recognize that noteverything is black and white, the next step is recognizing that it's not justshades of gray either, but instead that life is a rainbow of shades,highlights, colors, and tones."

The binaries we create do not serve God.  Instead they limit our understanding of God and the world around us.  If everyone has to be either wise or foolish, then what about those who are funny or sad or joyful?

Perhaps today’s parable is really about being prepared or receiving permission not to share, but as likely as not, it’s about wondering how else the story could play out.

What secret option c’s are out there that dance between and beyond the categories of wise and foolish?

Today is an easy day for us to find ourselves in the midst of binaries—good-byes and not hellos, endings, and yet beginnings.  Yesterday was Veteran’s Day and who better knows the value of peace, the danger and pain of war, and the ways it is not nearly that simple than veterans?  We’re even approaching the end of the church year and preparing for Advent, which itself breaks the binary as we live in the space of yearning for God’s reign on earth even as it has already begun in Jesus’ death and resurrection.

This Sunday is my last Sunday with you all and as we say good-bye, we are ending this pastoral relationship that we’ve had.  I won’t keep in touch, so that as you discern your leadership and pastoral needs, you can more fully embrace whoever comes to serve as pastoral leadership.  This is very much an ending.  

But it is also a beginning.  It’s a beginning for me as I move to Des Moines and it’s a beginning for you all as you begin to identify essentials for your community of faith—what is at the heart of your mission and ministry, the heart of your worship.

But even that is work we have already been doing together.  It is the ongoing work that we are always doing as people of faith in an ever-changing world.

You as a community embody a resistance to the binaries we humans like to create.  You are both ELCA and PCUSA in your worship together.  You have a building and yet next Sunday you will worship in a different building and for Thanksgiving you will worship in yet another building.  You care for each other and you also care for the community and the world.

The way you all engage in ministry is creative and visionary.  Investing your time and energy in relationships resists either being patronizing charity givers who keep others at an arms’ length or ignoring those who are different from you.

You are loved by God and you extend that love outward to care about this community and to care about this world instead of holding it in and keeping it just within yourselves.  You are witnesses to God’s transforming love and grace in your commitment to even what is not always popular or comfortable.  You are capable of wrestling with the hard questions of faith.

You wrestle with immigration policies that don’t honor the holiness of humans who immigrate to this country.  You can wrestle with what it means when thoughts and prayers aren’t stopping gun violence.  You can wrestle with what it means to live beyond and between the gender binary.  You wrestle with racism and white privilege and your place in it all.

You have enormous capacity as a community of faith to dwell in the in between.  You can question the text without losing your faith.  To ask if Jesus might not be the bridegroom, but instead a foolish bridesmaid, locked out of our religious celebrations.  You can ask what would have happened if the foolish bridesmaids didn’t leave or if the wise ones insisted on waiting just a little while longer until they returned before they went inside.

You, dear people of God, are vital to the body of Christ throughout the world.  The ministry God does through you in and with this community is vibrant and in whatever form it may take in the coming months and years, I trust that God will continue to work through you.

And even at this ending, I will continue to carry you in my heart.

Thanks be to God.

Love fulfills the law: 14th after pentecost a

Romans 13:8-14

⁸Owe no one anything,

      except to love one another;

            for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.

⁹The commandments,

      “You shall not commit adultery;

      You shall not murder;

      You shall not steal;

      You shall not covet”;

      and any other commandment,

            are summed up in this word,

                  “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

                        ¹⁰Love does no wrong to a neighbor;

                              therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.

¹¹Besides this, you know what time it is,

      how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep.

            For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers;

            ¹²the night is far gone,

                  the day is near.

            Let us then lay aside the works of darkness

                  and put on the armor of light;

                  ¹³let us live honorably as in the day,

                        not in reveling and drunkenness,

                        not in debauchery and licentiousness,

                        not in quarreling and jealousy.

                              ¹⁴Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ,

                                    and make no provision for the flesh,

                                          to gratify its desires.

The other reading referenced is Matthew 18:15-20.

-----

Much of this week could be characterized as a failure to love.  Echoing Jesus’ words, Paul writes in Romans, “the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.”  If love is the fulfillment of the law, then a law ought to be judged on its enactment of love.

Committing adultery—cheating on someone else—is not loving because it neither respects nor honors that one.  Killing—the violent taking of life of another—is not love because it neither respects nor honors that one.  Stealing is not love because it neither respects nor honors that one.  Coveting—jealously wanting what is not ours—is not love because it neither respects nor honors that one above the things they possess.

Love does not mean that we cannot disagree, but it does frame our conversations differently.  Love does not permit dehumanizing another person or group of people through the use of name-calling and slurs.  Love does not say, “those people.”  Love challenges us when we say “those people.”  Love challenges us when we are cruel or careless.  Love talks about issues that matter, even at the risk of making us or others uncomfortable.  Oftentimes, love is shared in stories about and with the people we love.

Love talks about conflict, disappointment, and disagreement.  We wrestle together in disagreements because we do, in fact, love each other.  We tell each other when we are upset because we want to be in good, loving relationship with each other and we can’t when we’re not honest about things that matter.  Love brings us together to challenge and to be challenged.

When Paul says that the commandments “are summed up in this word, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” ¹⁰Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law,” he sets a different standard for us.  When love does no wrong and love fulfills the law, the conversations we have are different.

There is a lot of space for disagreement about policy, but the test of a law or policy, whether locally, nationally, or internationally is if it furthers love: honor, respect, dignity.

Does repealing DACA, a bill protecting and supporting those who came to this country as children without papers, further love?  How is it loving to send someone away from a country they call home?  You all know that there is nothing loving about deportation.  The fear and anxiety it causes are not love.  The families that will be broken apart lose out on love.

Love cares for others.  Love helps families stay together—stay in this country we call home.  Love respects and honors each person’s humanity.  Love provides and cares for each person, sheltering them when they are in danger.  Love challenges rhetoric and actions of hate and racial bias, even when it’s done by a neighbor or stranger here in town.

Love holds us to higher standards.  Love decries the prospect of Mutually Assured Destruction because the lives of people in our country and in other countries matter and because the best way to keep troops and people safe is to not start a war.  Love does not kill.  Love does not bomb.

Paul, who is writing to followers of Christ in the powerful Roman Empire, writes, “you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; ¹²the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.” 

Now is the time.  Love is the way.

Love is the fulfilling of the law, as Paul writes, and it is hard.  Love is not easy or quick or painless.  We know the pain of losing someone we love, whether through death or geography or through relationships broken beyond repair.

In baptism, Love digs deep into our hearts and lays down strong roots.  That’s why it can hurt so much to lose someone we love.  But that’s also how we get to live out the love that grows up and out of those roots, bearing good fruit, bearing love. 

Love is what we need right now.  We need the kind of love that brings compassion back into immigration policies, that keeps Dreamers and immigrants safe and in this country we call home, that puts human faces on policies and budgets and programs—humanizing those others try to demonize.  We need the kind of love that is appalled by war, violence, and threats of mass destruction.  We need the kind of love that values diversity in language, race, and culture.

Paul writes that “salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers.”  Salvation is not for us individually; it is not a personal, private thing.  Salvation is communal.  Salvation is Love actually reigning over every part of life and every interaction.  Love gets us through the struggles together.  Love doesn’t leave people to fend for themselves.  Love isn’t neutral.  Love picks a side.  Love picks the side of love—of caring for humanity and creation, of dignity, of honor, of respect.

Love enacts salvation.

Thanks be to God.

Jesus walks toward us in the storm: 10th after pentecost a

The first reading is 1 Kings 19:9-18.

The holy gospel according to Matthew (14:22-33)

²²Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat

       and go on ahead to the other side of the Sea of Galilee,

              while he dismissed the crowds.

              ²³And after he had dismissed the crowds,

                     Jesus went up the mountain by himself to pray.

       When evening came, he was there alone,

              ²⁴but by this time the boat,

                     battered by the waves,

                            was far from the land,

                                   for the wind was against them.

²⁵And early in the morning Jesus came walking toward them on the sea.

       ²⁶But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea,

              they were terrified, saying,

                     “It is a ghost!”

              And they cried out in fear.

                     ²⁷But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said,

                            “Take heart, it is I;

                                   do not be afraid.”

       ²⁸Peter answered him,

              “Lord, if it is you,

                     command me to come to you on the water.”

       ²⁹He said, “Come.”

              So Peter got out of the boat,

                     started walking on the water,

                            and came toward Jesus.

                     ³⁰But when Peter noticed the strong wind,

                            he became frightened,

                            and beginning to sink, he cried out,

                                   “Lord, save me!”

              ³¹Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him,

                     “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

³²When they got into the boat,

       the wind ceased.

       ³³And those in the boat worshiped Jesus, saying,

              “Truly you are the Son of God.”

The gospel of the Lord.

-----

Storms are not new to us. 

10 years ago next week, a storm crashed waves of water through this town, destroying homes, a sense of safety, and this church building’s basement. 

8 years ago the ELCA decided to follow Jesus more closely during the Churchwide Assembly by beginning a campaign to raise millions of dollars to fight malaria and by recognizing and affirming the calls to ordained and consecrated ministryof people of a variety of sexual orientations and gender identities.  The response of some to the latter commitment was a storm that tore through communities of faith, including here in Rushford, tearing friends and colleagues apart.

Storms are not new to us, nor are they new to Peter, a fisher by trade.  Peter knows the danger of the sea—the water that can be so calm one day and life-threatening another.  So when he’s in the boat, “battered by the waves,” he knows how to handle the boat.  That’s not the terrifying part of it all.

The terrifying part is Jesus.

Jesus shows up in the midst of the storm, heading for the boat, walking on water, and this terrifies the disciples in the boat.  The storm isn’t terrifying, Jesus is.

How often are we scared of Jesus coming to us?

Are we scared of what it means to follow Jesus?  If we’re not yet, we probably should be.  We know where Jesus ended up.

We are currently in the midst of many storms.  A storm is raging as our president threatens and escalates this country towards a nuclear war with North Korea, which would likely destroy this whole planet.  Even as we’ve been praying for peace and de-escalation each week, the president has been intentionally escalating the threat.

Another storm, this one of white supremacy, has been raging, last week in the bombing of a mosque in Bloomington, and most especially this weekend in Charlottesville, Virginia.  Uninvited and unwanted white supremacists, engaging in acts of domestic terrorism, gathered without the KKK’s usual white robes of anonymity, carrying torches, and violently protested the planned removal of Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s statue.  These neo-Nazis chanted many horrible things, including “Blood and Soil,” a philosophy of the Third Reich, used as a Nazi chant in Germany.  The storm of racism and evil is real and alive in this country.

And Jesus is walking towards us in the midst of this storm.  It is easy for us to gather here in Rushford and dismiss what is happening in Charlottesville or with the president and North Korea as far away and not connected to us.  In college we called it “living in the Luther bubble” as we were fairly ignorant to much of what happened outside of our sphere of study, college, and community.

But Jesus comes to us, walking on the water through the storm with a different way of being.  The ministry we do here in this place as Trinity and First is important.  It matters.  It matters that we make this place more welcoming of Spanish-speaking folks, especially immigrants working on the farms, and of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, and questioning folks.  These are important ways of following Jesus by resisting racism and forces of oppression. 

And yet we are also part of a larger body of Christ.  We are part of a whole country and world in which storms are raging and Jesus calls us into this world and that can be terrifying.

We call this place where we gather a sanctuary.  A place of safety amidst the storm.  Many church buildings have historically been constructed like ships and have areas called “naves” to reinforce this.  And, the implication is that life is not always safe.  That’s true.  Jesus doesn’t call us to safety, he calls us to discipleship.

In our first reading for today, Elijah has just stood up to the priests of Baal, as God bests them in a challenge of sacrifice and power, which then ends the drought.  This provokes the ire of the powerful followers of Baal and so Elijah responds by hiding in a cave in the desert far away, feeling alone and afraid for his life.  And God comes to him as “a sound of sheer silence,” or in other translations: “a gentle and quiet whisper,” “a sound of gentle blowing,” or “a sound. Thin. Quiet.”  God’s gentle presence contradicts the storm of anxiety, fear, and loneliness raging in Elijah.

Yet even God’s presence cannot shake Elijah’s terrified and lonely lament, which he repeats word for word when God asks again what Elijah is doing.  And God persists, calling and equipping Elijah and those who would come after him to continue the work.  And Jesus keeps calling to us in the boat in the midst of the storm, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

Jesus calls us to deep commitments locally—in welcome and hospitality and boldness as we proclaim the gospel here.  And we are faithful in this call as a community of faith.

Jesus also calls us to deep commitments to justice throughout the world.  And what a witness that could be—

--to gather in our own town, or travel to the state or national capitols, advocating in solidarity with people of color being menaced by proud white supremacists, or to travel together as a community of faith to show up with people of color to resist racism.

--to challenge the narratives that separate our country into rural republicans or urban democrats, showing that more than any political party, we are children of God, caring for our kindred, our friends, and our neighbors around the country and the world. 

--to challenge the narratives that claim at best that we don’t care about and at worst that we support the president’s threats of nuclear war with North Korea, the bombing of the mosque in Bloomington, or the white supremacists’ presence in Charlottesville. 

But more importantly than any of those, what if we took this action to follow Jesus even in the storm that rages, because that is what faith means to us.

This weekend the ELCA issued a statement from Bp. Bill Gafkjen, the chair of the Conference of Bishops, with this prayer:

“Just and merciful God, we give you thanks for … bishops, pastors, deacons, people of God – who this Saturday walk the way of the cross in Charlottesville, Va. On this day and in that place, they join other courageous and faithful people across time and space to stand against bigotry, hatred and violence; to stand with those who are intended victims; and to stand for justice and mercy, peace and equality for all people.

“We stand with them in prayer, asking you to empower them, protect them, and use their witness as [a] hopeful sign of your resurrection reign afoot in your beloved and troubled world. By your might, break the bondage that bigotry, hatred and violence impose on their victims and their perpetrators. May your kingdom come on earth as in heaven. And, we pray, empower us in our own communities to follow their lead as fellow servants to your dream of a community in which all people and their gifts are welcomed and honored, cherished and celebrated as beloved children of a just, merciful and loving God; through Jesus Christ crucified and risen for the life of the world. Amen”

The PCUSA stated: "Because of our biblical understanding of who God is and what God intends for humanity, the PC(USA) must stand against, speak against, and work against racism. Antiracist effort is not optional for Christians. It is an essential aspect of Christian discipleship, without which we fail to proclaim the Good News of Jesus Christ."
- Facing Racism: A Vision of the Intercultural Community, 222nd General Assembly (2016), Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)

These are prayers and commitments of words and they are important, but so are the prayers we pray with our feet and with our resources.  Where we show up matters and resisting this mob of white supremacist terrorists, resisting nuclear war, is praying with our whole bodies.  How will we show up?  What are we willing to risk in the storm, to follow the Jesus who is walking to us now?  Jesus is calling to us, how will we respond?  How will we connect to those who suffer injustice not only in our community, but around the country and the world?

Our Church in the World moments have been a great way to keep us aware of what is going on in the world and we include places and people all over the world who are facing injustice and hardship in our prayers each week.  Awareness and spoken prayers are an important step, and they are good beginning steps. 

I think we are ready for our next step. 

What if we commit to showing up or hosting even just one thing a year that addresses injustice in the country or the world?  What if we show up at the state capitol, the nation’s capitol, or the site of resistance in the face of white supremacy?  One embodied prayer, one form of resistance to the storms of injustice that rage around us.  We stay in the boat to fight the storm, rather than escaping.  Jesus is walking toward us and calling us to follow.  So, we pray with our bodies because we trust that the storm can never stop Jesus.  

Thanks be to God.

resurrection breaks in: easter 1a

The holy gospel according to Matthew (28:1-10).

After the sabbath,

      as the first day of the week was dawning,

            Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb.

²And suddenly there was a great earthquake;

      for an angel of God,

            descending from heaven,

                  came and rolled back the stone

                  and sat on it.

      ³The appearance of the angel was like lightning,

            and its clothing bright as snow.

                  ⁴For fear of the angel the guards shook

                        and became as if dead.

         ⁵But the angel said to the women,

            “Do not be afraid;

                  I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.

                  ⁶He is not here;

                        for he has been raised, as he said.

                  Come, see the place where he lay.

                        ⁷Then go quickly and tell his disciples,

                              ‘He has been raised from the dead,

                              and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee;

                                    there you will see him.’

                  This is my message for you.”

⁸So the women left the tomb quickly

      with fear and great joy,

            and ran to tell his disciples.

⁹Suddenly Jesus met them and said,

      “Greetings!”

            And they came to him,

                  took hold of his feet,

                        and worshiped him.

¹⁰Then Jesus said to them,

      “Do not be afraid;

            go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee;

                  there they will see me.”

The gospel of the Lord.

-----

I need to confess that I have not been feeling Easter this year.  I have felt like I’m still in Good Friday, or even Holy Saturday.  Like these women—these Marys—I feel almost numb.  Every time I turn on the news or get online, there is another tragedy.  As I was working on this sermon, the news came out that we had dropped the biggest non-nuclear bomb ever used in combat in Afghanistan. 

And it’s not just what our and other governments are doing in other countries.  It’s in our corner of the world too.  Kids are still sick, people we love still die, Immigration and Customs Enforcement could come in and tear this community apart at any time, and domestic violence still haunts our community.

We know that the world both far and near is not how it should be.  And yet we still show up.  Like the brave women, the Marys, who show up at the tomb.  They bring nothing.  In Matthew’s account they don’t bring any spices to anoint the body, or anything at all really.  We don’t hear them worrying about how they’re going to get into the tomb.  They just go, walking numbly along the path to the tomb.  Maybe to sit and stare.  Maybe to sit and cry—if there are any tears left, that is.  Maybe just to not be alone with their grief.

The women show up and God crashes into their sorrow and grief.  God breaks in, literally rocking their world with the resurrection.  The folks guarding the tomb are lost in fear and become “as if dead.”

There is no denying the violence and pain that put Jesus on the cross and then into the tomb.  That violence is just as real today around the world: at the hands of our and other governments, as well as at the hands of individuals, like the pastor in San Bernadino who killed his estranged wife, a child in her class, and himself, and in domestic violence in our own community over the last few years.

Violence is real.  Jesus is still being crucified and in this reality the women come to the tomb.  Mary and Mary, these faithful women caught in despair, show up at the tomb.  They show up because even though they might not have a plan or hope, it is the faithful thing to do.   

The witness of these women—the first witnesses of the resurrection—would have held no legal standing in their time and they have been maligned throughout church history.  Yet these women show up, expecting nothing but a tomb and the bloodied corpse of the one in whom they had placed their hope.  The One they thought would change everything.

But this isn’t the end.  This is where we are with the world right now, and this is where Christ breaks in.  This is where the resurrection shakes the foundations of this world.

Bishop Younan of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land points out that “The powers and principalities of sin and death could not overcome the love of God.  Yes they could crucify Jesus.  Yes, they could bury Jesus.  But they could not bury God’s love for this world.”

THIS is what Easter is. 

The women show up at the tomb, because it is the faithful thing to do and God breaks in.  Into their sorrow and confusion, the angel proclaims the message Christians have greeted each other with for thousands of years as the angel says, “⁶He is not here,” Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed.  Alleluia!

In the face of all the violence: resurrection breaks in!

In the face of sickness, death, and despair: resurrection breaks in!

In the face of broken relationships, lost lives, and hopelessness: resurrection breaks in!

In the face of every single thing that beats us down, discourages us, and gives us every reason not to believe: resurrection breaks in!

Resurrection breaks in no matter what!

The women respond “with fear and great joy” because resurrection breaks in.

These women show up today and throughout history.  Though they are not always named or recognized, women have been showing up forever.  They have known the secret that perhaps we who gather here today know deep in our souls, no matter what else we might think.  The women know: sometimes you just need to show up, even if you don’t want to or even if you don’t know why.

Because resurrection does break in!

And God, after all these years, still breaks into our lives, shaking the very foundations we’ve thought were so solid. 

Resurrection breaks in when executions are stayed, granting life in the face of death.

Resurrection breaks in when Muslims give blood to help Coptic Christians who were victims of violence.

God breaks in in surprising ways that don’t make sense.

Resurrections breaks in and changes us!

Resurrection changes our relationship with Emmanuel,

      who is God-with-us,

      and who is the God of life!

Jesus has vanquished death and the power it holds over this life. 

Despite all of the potential for evil, resurrection breaks in and Love wins.

Despite all of the reasons we might have to despair, despite our human capacity for death, destruction, and hatred, resurrection breaks in and evil doesn’t have the last word. 

Love is still stronger than hatred or fear.

Life still conquers death.

Because: Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia!

Resurrection breaks into our lives!

Christ resists oppression and overcomes evil!

In the face of all that may come, we can trust that no amount of evil will ever be the final word.  No amount of evil will conquer.

Because life is different

Because resurrection breaks in

Because Alleluia! Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed. Alleluia!