"Rest That Heals, Rest That Frees"

Pastor Derek's Sermon August 24th

When we hear the word “Sabbath”, what comes to mind for you? Many of us may

imagine a quiet Sunday, church in the morning, perhaps a big meal with the family, then

rest for the remainder of the day. A very traditional Sunday for a Christian family.

However, others may imagine the Sabbath to be more of a rule, a day when we are

not

allowed

to do certain things. It’s more about rules and regulations than rest and

reverence. Then still for others, the Sabbath may be a foreign concept altogether. In a

world that often prizes busyness, productivity, and constant connectivity over rest, the

Sabbath isn’t something worth doing or something people have the time for.

In Scripture though, the Sabbath is not simply about doing nothing. It’s not a day just to

take off from the world. The Sabbath is about restoration. Sabbath is about freedom.

Freedom from the chains of this world. The Sabbath is about remembering who God is,

and who we are in God. And then, as we see in Isaiah and in the Gospel according to

Luke, the Sabbath is not simply about

personal

rest and restoration. It is about justice,

healing, and compassion for

others

.

The prophet Isaiah tells us that if we “remove the yoke from among us, the pointing of

the finger, the speaking of evil; if we offer our food to the hungry and satisfy the needs

of the afflicted, then our light shall rise in the darkness”. In the Gospel according to

Luke, Jesus heals a woman who has been bent over for eighteen years, setting her free

from her afflictions on the Sabbath, despite the heavy criticism from the religious

leaders that he violated the “rules” of the Sabbath day.

So, with all of this as a background to our conversation, the question we face is this:

How do we hold together God’s call to rest and God’s call to serve? How do we honor

the Sabbath in a way that honors God’s mission of compassion and liberation?

In order to answer these questions, we are going to start by looking at the many

different aspects of the Sabbath, explore how the Sabbath can be approached on an

ideological level, how those different aspects of the Sabbath can work together, and

then finally what that looks like for us. How can we or will we change our practices and

mindset for the Sabbath going forward.

We start with the “traditional” view of the Sabbath as a day for rest. The Sabbath was

given to God’s people as a gift. In the creation story, after six days of work, God rests on

the seventh day, the beginning of the concept of the Sabbath. God blessed this day and

made it holy. That rhythm of work and rest was therefore woven into the creation itself.

Then later, when God gave the Ten Commandments to Moses and Israel, the Sabbath

command was rooted not only in creation and stone but also in liberation. In

Deuteronomy 5:15 we hear “Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and

the Lord your God brought you out from there; therefore, the Lord your God

commanded you to keep the Sabbath day.”

​

The Sabbath then is both a return to creation and a deep connection with creation as

well as a remembrance of redemption. It’s about trusting that we do not hold the world

together by our own effort. It’s about letting go, resting in God’s provision, and

remembering that we are a freed people. We need this rhythm of Sabbath. The rhythm

of work and rest, of letting go, of being free. Because without rest, we burn out. Without

stopping, we lose our capacity for compassion. Compassion for others and compassion

for ourselves. Without space to breathe, we forget that God is in control and has been

present in creation and our story from the very beginning.

The Sabbath restoration is vital to our well-being. Without it, we risk losing our

connection to the holy. We risk losing our connection with God and with ourselves. It’s

written into the fiber of our beings. However, the Sabbath isn’t only for our own well-

being. It is also for the well-being of the community as a whole. And it is here that we

dive back into our two pieces of scripture from today.

First, in Isaiah, we find a powerful message that really redefines worship for people of

the time. The people of Israel were doing what they had been told to do in order to

remain faithful and connected with the Holy. They were fasting and practicing their

religious rituals, but then God comes in an tells them that those acts are empty and

devoid of power if they are not also accompanied with justice and compassion.

In essence, God says to the people, you all think the Sabbath and fasting are about

bowing your head and ignoring the world around you? No! True Sabbath, true worship,

true connection to the holy is about breaking down the bonds of injustice, letting the

oppressed go free, sharing your bread with the hungry, and bringing the homeless and

lost into your home.

God radically reorients everything the people of Israel believe rest and restoration

mean. The Sabbath is not only a day of rest for me, but also a day of rest for the poor,

the laborer, the foreigner, for creation itself. It’s about making space for everyone to

experience God’s rest. Not just those who are privileged enough to enjoy it. Isaiah then

goes further saying that when we care for the poor and the afflicted, our “light will rise in

the darkness,” and we will be like “a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose

waters never fail.” The Sabbath is not an escape from the world’s problems, it’s not a

time to bow our heads and shut everything out, but instead, it’s a time to enter into

God’s healing mission for the world. Honoring the Sabbath is to participate in God’s

work of justice.

We see this theme continued in the Gospel according to Luke. Jesus is teaching in a

synagogue on the Sabbath when he notices a woman who is clearly in a great deal of

pain and discomfort. For the past eighteen years, the scripture says, this woman had

been unable to stand up straight. So, without waiting for this woman to ask anything of

Jesus, he calls her over and says, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” He lay

his hand upon her and immediately she stands up tall and praises God.

However, instead of rejoicing, the religious leaders object, saying, “There are six days

on which work ought to be done, come on those days and be cured, and not on the

Sabbath day.” To which Jesus replies, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you untie your

ox or donkey on the Sabbath and lead it to water? And 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?”

The religious leader here is trying to dictate and control what is and what is not allowed

on the Sabbath day. Trying to establish the rules for how people are to reconnect with

the Divine. Jesus though, insists that healing and liberation are not a violation of

Sabbath, but actually the very heart of it. The Sabbath isn’t diminished by performing

acts of compassion for others, it is fulfilled in and by them. The Sabbath is the day of

freedom. Freedom from the chains of this world. The day when the enslaved go free,

when burdens are lifted, and when healing comes. And for this woman, who was bent

over for almost two decades, the Sabbath became her resurrection day. She was finally

able to stand tall not only physically, but also spiritually.

So with all of this, with these varying means of living into and living out the Sabbath,

how do we, as followers of Christ, live into this vision of the Sabbath that is

both

rest

and justice-oriented,

both

renewal and compassion filled? Oftentimes we fall into one of

the two extremes. On one side, we treat the Sabbath as pure individual self-care. It’s a

day off, a chance to relax, and possibly even a personal spiritual practice day. Which is

all important, but incomplete. On the other side, we turn the Sabbath into one of

constant service and activism, which can leave us depleted and exhausted. And is also

incomplete.

Living into the true Sabbath means holding these two sides together. True Sabbath

invites us to rest in God’s love while also extending that love to others. The Sabbath

renews us not so we can escape the world, but so we can engage the world with

refreshed compassion. We see this balance modeled by Jesus along his journeys. He

withdraws to rest and pray when he is able to and when he needs it, but he also heals,

feeds, and teaches the masses when they need it. His rest fuels his mission, and his

mission enables the deepest meaning of rest. Personal restoration leading into and

becoming the foundation for communal restoration.

So, what does this both/and Sabbath look like for us? To be honest, it’s not all that

different than the way in which Jesus engaged with the Sabbath. We first must make

meaningful time and space for restoration. Maybe that means turning off your phone,

letting emails go unanswered, and setting aside the endless to-do list. It may mean

spending time in prayer or walking in nature. Reading Scripture or simply sitting in

silence allowing the Spirit in. This is not a time to shut down or mindlessly scroll through

our phones. This is a time to actively participate, trust, and allow God to work within us.

And while God may be looking within us, the Sabbath also means looking outward. Who

around us may be “bent over” with burdens and ailments? Where are the hungry,

homeless, isolated or oppressed? Those around us who are in need of rest. The

​

Sabbath invites us to loosen the yoke, to offer food, to stand with those who are on the

margins of this life. This can take many forms. Volunteering at a shelter or food pantry,

advocating for justice and joining some of the many protests and community

organization events, or it could be as simple as visiting someone who may be sick and

lonely, providing their soul with much needed rest and restoration.

And finally, living into this true Sabbath means understanding that we aren’t in this or

doing this alone. The Sabbath, just like our mission and journey in this life, is not just

individual but also communal. Imagine if our community as a whole, whether that is our

neighborhood, friend group, or church, practiced Sabbath collectively, making sure that

rest and restoration and needs were the responsibility of all. Encouraging one another

and identifying when and where rest and justice were needed. And hopefully, when we

live into the Sabbath in this way, we realize that it is not a burden, not a lazy day not

contributing to a productivity focused society, but instead a gift. A chance to restore

ourselves, each other, and this world. A chance to honor God and honor the mission

Jesus undertook.

Now, of course, we will not always get this balance right. Sometimes we will be too busy

to rest. I’m sure all of us know what that feels like. With how jam packed our lives are,

we can’t possibly think of sitting down and allowing ourselves a minute. Sometimes we

will rest but it will be in ways that ignore the needs of others. Or sometimes we will

serve others while neglecting the needs of our own souls. The world is simply geared to

cause us to stumble when it comes to the Sabbath. However, it is in those times, when

we are most desperately in need of rest, that Jesus comes in like he did in scripture

today. Jesus sees our needs and invites us back into the rhythm of grace. Jesus does

not wait to be called upon for aid and he does not wait for the right day or the

appropriate moment.

Because as he showed us in scripture, the Sabbath is not about the rules, its about the

restoration. Sabbath is not about idleness and inactivity, but about freedom. It’s not

about what we cannot or won’t do, but instead about what God is actively doing,

healing, liberating, renewing, and reconciling. Isaiah reminds us that when we care for

the poor and afflicted, our light rises in the darkness. Luke shows us that when Jesus

heals on the Sabbath, the people rejoice at the wonderful things God is doing in this life.

So let us go forth and honor the Sabbath by not only resting in God’s love, but also by

extending that love to others. Let us keep Sabbath by not retreating from the world’s

needs, but by participating in God’s mission of compassion. For when we rest in God

and serve in love, then the Sabbath truly becomes what it was always meant to be: a

day of joy, a day of freedom, a day of healing, a day when God’s Realm breaks into our

very midst. Amen.

​

Faith That Keeps Going

Sermon August 17th

As I started to read through the scriptures for today and read through chapter 11 of Hebrews, I imagined it was as if the writer of the Epistle was standing in this great hall of history, pointing out these larger than life murals on the walls of heroes of the faith throughout time. There’s Moses, standing at the edge of the Red Sea, impassable waves crashing at the shores, leading God’s people through when the waters finally parted. And there’s Rahab, the unlikely ally who risked her life and the lives of her family when she bravely hid the Israelite spies, sparking the turn of the battle and the fall of Jericho. In this hall there are the prophets, the kings, the judges, and the nameless heroes who “through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, [and] obtained promises.”

But that’s not all that’s there in this imagined great hall of history. The author of this Epistle doesn’t just point out the scenes of victory. They also bring us to the shadows, to those moments of history we usually wouldn’t display. Here we see images of those who “were tortured, refusing to accept release,” who “faced jeers and flogging, chains and imprisonment.” Terrible pictures of some that were “sawn in two”, and others that “wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves.” Then, as if to reinforce the stark contrast of the room and to jolt us all back into reality from the awe of the murals, the writer of the Epistle captures the essence of the room with this statement: “Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised.”

In other words, these great leaders of the faith gave their lives for a mission that they never got to see completed. Faith, the writer says, is not just about believing God will do something for me, personally. Faith is about believing God’s work is worth my whole life, even if I don’t see the end of the journey. That’s the kind of faith we see in the Epistle to the Hebrews, and that’s the kind of faith Jesus alludes to in Luke chapter 12 when he says, “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!...Do you think I came to bring peace? No, I tell you, but rather division.”

Not the type of faith we expect from Jesus, is it? It’s not the peaceful Jesus we know and see throughout most of the Gospels. This is Jesus saying to us that when you live with great faith, with a great mission, you will stir things up. You’ll ignite fire in the world. And that fire will make incredible changes, but it will also cause divides. Some will be drawn to it, others will resist it. And sometimes, even your closest relationships will be strained by the mission you follow. The faith you profess and live out.

So it is in this space that we find the tension we will be exploring today. Great faith can overcome impossible odds, but great faith will also draw fire, cause division, and may never see the mission’s conclusion. Yet we keep going because we know the goodness that each step of the journey will bring to the world.

Now to structure this message, I’m going to use a counseling technique called an effective feedback sandwich. We start with the positive aspects of having great faith, then discuss the difficulties that it brings, and finally end with the ultimate goal of our work. And to start with the positive aspects of great faith, we go to Hebrews to see the author writing about how having great faith can overcome impossible odds. The author starts this section of scripture with one of the most easily recognizable examples of great faith. They say, “By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as on dry land, but when the Egyptians tried to do so, they were drowned.” We’ve heard this so many times I think sometimes the magnitude of it fades for us. But let’s think about the odds here. The Israelites had just escaped slavery; they were worn down and beaten. They had no army, no weapons of consequence, no power. Before them was essentially a wall of water, impassable. Behind them was Pharoah’s army, looking for blood.

It wasn’t simply courage that made them step forward into that sea. It certainly wasn’t some military strategy. It was faith. The kind of faith that says, God has brought us this far, God will see us through this. When you have that kind of faith, you can step into situations that look like a dead end and find a way forward. We have these type of “Red Sea” situations in our lives all of the time. It could be a medical diagnosis you can’t seem to see past, a broken relationship, job losses, or even impossible justice causes that need to be addressed but a wall of hate stands in your way.

Faith doesn’t make these walls disappear before we step forward. The Red Sea is still there when Moses took that first step. Faith is what makes us step into the impossible, trusting God to make a way.

However, then comes the fire. In our scripture, Jesus says, “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!” Jesus came to bring fire to the earth. On the first read, that doesn’t seem like a gentle image. It isn’t something we expect from the same Jesus that wasn’t sent here to condemn the world but instead to save the world. So, what does this mean? Fire can do so many things. We typically think of fire as a destructive force, and it most certainly is, but that’s not all it does. Fire can be used to refine materials; it can purify that which is tainted. Fire destroys, but in that destruction of the old, something new can emerge. I think of the first bits of green that pop up after a forest fire, eventually growing larger and more lush than ever before.

The mission of God is not about making everyone comfortable. It’s about transformation. Transforming ourselves and as such transforming the world. And that transformation is disruptive. If our faith never stirs anything up, if it doesn’t challenge anything, if it never risks friction, preferring to stay hidden and safe, then it may not be the type of fiery faith that Jesus is talking about. The kind of faith he wishes was already kindled in this world.

The kind of faith Jesus is looking for, which sounds surprising, is the type of faith that will sometimes bring division. And it’s not intentional, its not because we are going out looking for a fight, but because this faith in the gospel challenges the powers and systems that prefer things to stay as they are. To keep the status quo of the powerful against the weak. The haves versus the have-nots.

Think of the abolitionists who faced violence, family divisions, and public scorn. Think of the current day civil rights leaders who are labeled as troublemakers and agitators. Think of all those who fight to expose the darkness in this world, to make people open their eyes to the oppression and division happening right before them. All of these people who held great faith that something better could be before them, were not accepted with open arms. Instead, it felt as though the fire was burning all around them, sometimes isolating them, separating them from those they once loved.

And that’s not all. In Hebrews chapter 11 we also hear one of the most difficult parts of having great faith and using it to change the world. Most of the heroes of the faith, those in the great murals we spoke about, never got to enjoy in the results of their mission. Verse 13 says, “All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them.” All of those heroes suffered in their journey of faith, died in that journey, and never got to see the ultimate goal. Moses never saw the Israelites make it to the Holy Land, the prophets were never in sight of Jesus coming into this world. And yet they persisted, nonetheless.

Because with great faith comes the understanding that it isn’t just about personal blessing, it’s not about that at all I’d argue. It’s about participating in God’s story for the sake of others. If my faith is only about what God can do for me, it will certainly crumble when hardships come my way, which they inevitably will. But if my faith is about what God is doing in and for the world, I can keep going even if the results are beyond my lifetime. If my faith is for the world and the people in it, I can plant those seeds knowing I may never see the tree grow. I can speak truth to power knowing I may never see justice being issued. I can love generously, more than society deems appropriate, knowing that I may never see that in return. The writer of Hebrews understands this and tells us to continue to run and practice with perseverance. To run the race marked out for us, to keep our eyes fixed on Jesus. We are not to run for personal fame or glory, but for something bigger than we can ever imagine.

The question then ultimately becomes, “how?” I can understand intellectually the need for and importance of running this race with no end in sight. The need to keep moving forward when everyone is against us. But inevitably, we will faulter, we will get lost in the shadows and lose our way. How can we keep going as those did before us? Well, the writer of Hebrews says, “we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.” Imagine running this race in a great stadium, filled with all those who came before us. Moses, Rahab, all the prophets, the martyrs, the people who risked everything for the sake of the mission. And not just those who have great murals painted for them. In those stands are also our grandparents who always prayed for us, those pastors who guided us, and even those neighbors who if only for a second cared for us along the way. All of them, both large and small, cheering us on. Reminding us by their example that we can keep going. We are not alone. The race is worth it.

Seeing and knowing this cloud of witnesses is there is so important because great faith can feel incredibly lonely. When we seem to be the only one speaking up for fairness, when we are the only one in our families that are making different choices, when we are the only ones in our friend group giving up comforts for a cause, we need to know that there were others who walked this path before us. There are others who silently step right in line with us. This cloud of witnesses will help us to “lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely,” as it says in Hebrews chapter 12. This cloud will help us lay aside the weight of fear, resentment, or bitterness. Lay aside the weight that says we must stop and instead focus on ourselves. Because if we keep those weights on us, if we can’t lay them aside, we will most certainly stay from the path, tire out and quit. “Run with perseverance” the writer says. It’s a long race and this cloud of witnesses is so important for us to keep at the forefront of our mind that God’s mission is worth it.

God’s mission is worth it. I can’t emphasize enough how vital that knowledge is when we exhibit and step into great faith. Because when that great faith brings fire, causes division, and threatens to end us before we even see the results, it’ll be tempting to ask: Why keep going? And I hope that in those times our answer always becomes, because God’s mission is worth it. The goodness we bring into the world through this journey is worth it. We keep going for each and every person that can’t or isn’t allowed to reap the bounty of God’s grace. We keep going because we know that with each step we are following in the footsteps of Jesus. Continuing his journey. We keep going because we know that it was great faith that freed people from slavery, great faith that fought for equality, great faith that allowed people to live and love just as they were made. Refusing to bend to the powers of society.

Great faith can cross seas, can endure fire, and can run a race without seeing the finish line. Yes, it will bring division. Yes, it will test you. Yes, it will sometimes feel like you’re running uphill with no end in sight, no leveling of the road. But it will also bring light into the darkness, justice into oppression, and hope into despair. And when the day comes that you have to pass on that baton to the next generation, to the next runner in this race of faith, you will know that your life was part of something bigger, something eternal.

So, sisters and brothers in Christ, followers of great faith, keep running. Keep your eyes fixed upon Jesus. The race is worth it. The mission is worth it. The world needs the goodness that you carry. Amen.

Pastors Message July 13th 2025

It is Within You

 

A lawyer stood up to try and test Jesus. “Teacher,” they said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” It is a pretty common question for someone of Jesus’ position. Many people asked prophets this type of question all the time. Many of us ask this type of question all the time. “What does God want from me?” or “How do I know I’m on the right path?” or simply “Am I doing enough?”

These aren’t new questions. We asked these same sort of questions last week. What does God require of me? Do I need to do these big extravagant acts of faith? Or by simply living am I doing enough? This is an ancient line of questioning, echoing through the centuries, even back to the time of Moses. Which makes the scriptures from today so powerful. Because even Moses, when speaking to the people of Israel as they prepared to enter the Promised Land, addresses this anxiety.

And in this address, Moses says something pretty astounding to his people. When they are asking, where is God, what does God want from me, how will I know? He says to them, “The word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.”

It’s not far, not hidden, not locked away in the heavens or buried beneath the sands. It’s not something only for the experts of the laws or the saints. The Word (capital W and otherwise) is already within you, already a part of you, in your mouth and your heart.

We’ve spoken about the Divine within a little bit before and today we are going to reflect a little bit more on this deep truth. What does this mean? How do we live with this fact? And more importantly, how do we trust in it enough to act upon it?

In Deuteronomy 30, Moses is nearing the end of his life. In this time, like he has been for many years, he’s preparing the people to cross into a new season of life. A new land, a new challenge, a new experience. And in this preparation, he is trying to encourage his people about what they need to do in order to live in prosperity and survive the rest of the journey to the Promised Land. And in doing so, he tells his people, don’t worry though, “this commandment that I am commanding you today is not too hard for you, nor is it too far away,” You’ve got this! Moses says. Now coming from someone such as Moses, this is a pretty grace-filled statement. Most of us imagine that following God is a kind of spiritual obstacle course. If we just run harder, climb higher, pray more, or do everything just right, then just maybe we will earn God’s approval or sense God’s presence.

That’s what we talked about last week and I’m sure that’s what the people assumed after making this huge journey across the desert. But Moses shatters this illusion. It’s not far he says. Its not hidden. Although we’ve come so far and have far to go, it’s already within your reach. He says, “It is not in heaven…it is not beyond the sea…the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.”

And this isn’t some sort of abstract theology from a prophet nearing the end of his life. When he says it’s for you to observe, he means quite literally it’s for you to live, to embody, to enact. The Word of God is not merely to be studied and reflected on but instead to be expressed. And the radical message that Moses is telling his people and us is that we already have it. We already do it. It’s not somewhere else. It’s not some future version of us. It’s not something we have after we get our life together. It’s already here, now, within us.

Now, I don’t know about you, but this is something I need to hear in my life. Especially when it feels as though I’m crossing a desert of my own. However, sticking to the scripture, we fast forward centuries later. The Word becomes flesh and we have the person that is Jesus. And we have our religious law person, someone who knows the scripture, who knows the words of Moses by heart, asking Jesus, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?”

A common question and Jesus answered as he commonly does as well. “What does it say in the law?” You know the text, what does it say? And the lawyer answers, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart…and your neighbor as yourself.” This is the right answer Jesus says, do this and you will live. That’s not good enough for this lawyer though. And truth be told, that’s not good enough for many of us. We want clarity, we want boundaries, a left and right limit, we want some control in this decision. So we ask, just like this lawyer, well “who is my neighbor?” In other words, well what do you mean? How far does this love go? Where is the line? There HAS to be a line somewhere right? Who can I ignore in this neighbor business?

And in Jesus’ answer, he gives a story. Quite possibly one of my favorite stories from Jesus. A man, he says, goes down from Jerusalem to Jericho. In this journey, he’s attacked, robbed, beaten, and left for dead. Now as he’s lying there, a priest comes by, and then a Levite. Two religious men, thank goodness! Two people we would expect to help. But they just pass on by, going to the other side of the road even! Then comes a Samaritan, a cultural and religious outsider, someone Jesus’ listeners would least expect to be the hero. But this Samaritan sees the beaten man, he stops, bends down, and touches his wounds. Gives him some bandages, lifts him up, carries him to an inn, pays for his care and promises even more. This Samaritan does the work. This Samaritan lives the word. He doesn’t just know it like the priest and Levite. He doesn’t recite Scripture at the broken man. He simply embodies mercy.

And in doing so, he shows us what Moses meant when he said, the word isn’t far away. It’s not just in the holy texts. It’s not trapped within rituals. It’s in your heart, in your mouth, and in your hands. It’s the way you see and how you respond to this world. Now Jesus turns back to the lawyer and asks him, “Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor?” And the lawyer answers, “The one who showed mercy.”

It seems like a simple answer. It’s a simple story. One that the man of the law definitely knew, one that all of us know already. Yet we live in a world that is overwhelmed almost by information and utterly starved of transformation. We know what the Bible says, we can look up every single verse in seconds, listen to thousands of sermons, hear podcasts or seminars – yet we can still miss the point like that priest and Levite. And that’s why the concept of the word within you is so powerful. It’s not just a code of conduct to read and obey. It’s something that God has planted so deep within us that we need to allow it to reshape us from the inside out. God has planted something holy within us. God’s image, God’s love, God’s breath, God’s Spirit. It speaks to our hearts, it nudges our conscience, moves our hands and feet. It cries out for love. You don’t need to become someone else first. You don’t need to attain a certain status or make this long journey of discovery. You don’t need to be perfect. You simply need to trust the Word that God has already planted in you – and act on it.

But, but, but… what about this? What about that? What about when I don’t feel it? What if I don’t hear God’s voice? What about when my heart feels dry, worn out or distant? Trust me, I get it. There are many times in our lives when the Word feels buried. But even then, it’s still there. God doesn’t withdraw their presence just because of our circumstances. Yes, sometimes we don’t listen as well as we should. We’re too distracted, too afraid, too tired or simply too cynical. However, the Word doesn’t leave us. God doesn’t flee from our predicaments. The Word is near to you, within you, not because we’ve earned it from our accomplishments and acts but because God’s grace has placed it there. And that’s the beauty of it all. You are already closer to God than you realize. You know more than you think. You carry the image of God within you. You already have the capacity to love like the Samaritan. Not based on your predicament or the situation you find yourself in from day to day but because of God’s indwelling presence.

So then, how do we live out this Word in our lives? First, we must allow the Word to rise up to our mouths. Don’t let it dwell deep within us never to see the light of day. Speak truth, speak love, speak encouragement. It doesn’t need to be grand. It could be a simple story such as Jesus shared many times. All the Word from your mouth means is that your speech reflects the grace placed within you. What we say reveals what we carry within us.

Therefore, we must also allow the Word to settle on our hearts. We must allow the Word to shape our values and desires. Spend time focusing on the within. Dwell within God’s presence and witness the Word within you. Let it transform you. And then finally, let the Word move your feet. The Samaritan didn’t just feel and speak compassion. He acted. He got down off his animal and got involved. Because that’s what the Word within us wants to do – it wants to move us toward the pain and suffering of others. Not away from it.

It's not a lot. There aren’t many rules to the Word within. There aren’t many instructions on how to live it out within our lives. So therefore, I end this message with the words Jesus used to end his message, “Go and do likewise.” You already have the answers, you already know what to do. The Word is not far off. It is in your mouth. It is in your heart. For you to observe. For you to live. When we stop waiting for a more perfect moment, when we stop imagining we’re too far from God, when we stop using religion to avoid people instead of love them…then we are finally free to go and do likewise. To love our neighbor, to bandage wounds, to cross boundaries, to let compassion inconvenience us. And in doing that, in that mercy, we find the answer to what we’ve been asking all along, what must I do to truly live? Let the Word that is already within you come alive. And love – deeply, bravely, and now. Ame