Feb 12

In Tears Seeing the Glory of God

The Great Reversal of Lent 1

John 11:1–44 • Psalm 126:5–6
Why is it that we can only see the glory of God in tears?

Lent begins with this unsettling truth: the places we most want to avoid are often the very places where God’s glory breaks open. John 11 makes this painfully clear. Mary and Martha send word to Jesus, hoping he will prevent their brother’s death. Instead, Jesus waits. Grief deepens. Tears fall. Hope seems lost.

And yet, when Jesus finally arrives, he does not stand at a distance. He weeps. He enters their sorrow before he transforms it. Only then does he speak the words that change everything: “Lazarus, come out.”

It is striking that Jesus ties this moment to the revelation of God’s glory. Not in the triumph. Not in the miracle. But in the tears.

Psalm 126 gives us the language for this holy pattern: “Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy.” Tears become seeds. Grief becomes ground. What feels like loss becomes the soil where God plants new life.

Maybe this is why we see God’s glory most clearly through tears. Tears wash away our illusions of control. Tears soften the hardened places of the heart. Tears open us to the God who meets us not after we’ve pulled ourselves together, but right in the middle of our sorrow.

Lent invites us to trust this strange and beautiful reversal: that God is closest when we feel most undone, that resurrection begins in the dark, and that joy is already being sown in the very places we weep.

Pastor Greg

Feb 04

Leaving Our Jars Behind

John 5

There’s a small but powerful detail in the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well: after her encounter with Jesus, she leaves her water jar behind. It’s easy to rush past that line, but it carries the weight of transformation. She came to the well carrying the symbol of her daily burden—her routine, her isolation, her shame, her thirst. She leaves with something entirely different: living water rising within her, a new sense of belonging, and a story worth sharing.

Most of us know what it feels like to carry a “jar.” Sometimes it’s the jar of expectations—what we think we must accomplish or who we think we must be. Sometimes it’s the jar of regret, heavy with the things we wish we could undo. Sometimes it’s the jar of fear, the one that keeps us returning to the same patterns because they feel safer than change. And sometimes it’s simply the jar of exhaustion, the weight of trying to hold everything together.

But when Jesus meets the woman at the well, he doesn’t demand that she fix herself before approaching him. He doesn’t shame her story or her questions. He simply offers her living water—grace, truth, and a relationship that restores her dignity. And that encounter frees her to let go of what she no longer needs to carry.

Lent invites us into that same movement. Not through willpower or guilt, but through encounter. Through listening for the voice that knows us fully and loves us completely. Through trusting that God meets us in our thirst and offers us something deeper than we imagined.

What jar are you carrying today? And what might it look like to leave it behind, stepping into the freedom and joy of living water?

Pastor Greg

Jan 27

From Weeping to Joy: The Holy Reversal

A Lenten Invitation for Our Congregation

Lent often carries a reputation for heaviness—forty days of giving things up, feeling bad about ourselves, or trudging through the wilderness. But the heart of Lent is not punishment. It is transformation. It is the slow, sacred movement from the places where we feel stuck toward the places where God is already bringing new life.

This year, our Lenten theme is “From Weeping to Joy: The Holy Reversal.” It comes from a line in Psalm 30 that many of us know by heart: “Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” That single verse captures the entire spiritual arc of Lent. It names the truth that life includes nights—seasons of grief, confusion, loss, or uncertainty. But it also proclaims that night is not the end of the story. God is always moving creation toward morning.

What Is a “Holy Reversal”?

Scripture is full of reversals—moments when God turns things around in ways no one expects:

  • ashes → beauty
  • mourning → dancing
  • exile → homecoming
  • death → life

These reversals are not magic tricks. They are the pattern of God’s work in the world. God meets us in the real places of sorrow and leads us, step by step, toward restoration. Lent invites us to pay attention to that movement—not just in the Bible, but in our own lives.

Why This Theme Matters Now

Many of us carry unspoken griefs: losses that still ache, fears that keep us awake, questions that don’t have easy answers. We live in a world that feels fractured and weary. Lent gives us permission to name those realities honestly. But it also gives us a promise: God is not finished.

The Holy Reversal is not about pretending everything is fine. It is about trusting that God is at work even when we cannot see the outcome. It is about leaning into the hope that joy is possible—not because we manufacture it, but because God brings it.

What This Means for Our Lenten Journey

Throughout Lent, we will explore this theme in worship, prayer, music, and conversation. You will see it in our liturgies, hear it in our sermons, and encounter it in the visual symbols around the sanctuary. Each week will invite us to reflect on a different aspect of the Holy Reversal:

  • honesty about our sorrow
  • trust in God’s compassion
  • courage to let go
  • openness to transformation
  • hope that refuses to give up

Lent is not about becoming perfect. It is about becoming open—open to God’s presence, open to healing, open to joy.

A Season of Both Ashes and Light

On Ash Wednesday, we begin with ashes—symbols of our mortality and our need for grace. But even then, the promise of joy is already present. The One who marks us with dust is the same One who leads us to the table of life. The same Shepherd who lays down his life is the One who takes it up again.

This is the Holy Reversal at the center of our faith:
God brings life out of death, hope out of despair, joy out of weeping.

An Invitation

As we enter this season, I invite you to bring your whole self—your questions, your griefs, your hopes, your longing for renewal. Bring the parts of your life that feel like night. Bring the places where you are waiting for morning.

Together, we will walk the Lenten path behind the Good Shepherd, trusting that the God who begins with ashes will end with resurrection.

May this season be for you a journey of honesty, courage, and deep joy.
May you discover, again and again, the God who turns weeping into joy.

(Adapted from Biblehub.com, formatted with Chat GPT)

Pastor Greg

Jan 26

When Healing Interrupts Our Expectations

John 5:1–18; Psalm 103:1–5

Bless the Lord, O my soul,
    and forget not all his benefits,
who forgives all your iniquity,
    who heals all your diseases,
Psalm 103:2

We often imagine healing as something gentle, orderly, and predictable. We pray, we wait, and we hope that God will work in ways that make sense to us. Psalm 103 invites us to bless the Lord “who heals all your diseases,” and we tend to picture that healing as smooth and serene—like a warm light settling over our lives.

But John 5 tells a different kind of healing story.

Jesus walks into a crowded place filled with people who have been waiting a long time for change. He approaches one man who has been ill for thirty‑eight years and asks a question that cuts through resignation and routine: “Do you want to be made well?” And then, without ceremony, Jesus heals him—on the Sabbath, no less. The healing is immediate, disruptive, and deeply inconvenient for the people who thought they knew how God was supposed to work.

The religious leaders don’t rejoice. They don’t celebrate the man’s restored life. Instead, they focus on the broken rule: “It’s the Sabbath. You shouldn’t be carrying that mat.” Their expectations of how God should act become barriers to recognizing how God is acting.

This story reminds us that healing rarely fits neatly into our categories. Sometimes God’s grace arrives in ways that unsettle our assumptions. Sometimes healing interrupts our schedules, our traditions, even our comfort. Sometimes it asks us to see people—and God—in a new light.

And sometimes, like the man carrying his mat, healing asks us to step into a new life that others may not understand.

As a church, we are invited to stay open to the surprising ways God brings renewal. To resist the temptation to cling to familiar patterns when the Spirit is doing something new. To celebrate healing wherever it appears, even when it stretches us.

God is still working. And grace still has a way of interrupting our expectations so that new life can take root.

(developed from biblehub.org)

Pastor Greg

If you liked our fall Souper Saturday you will like our
Soup & Pie Day
3/14/2026 from 10A-2P
Eat in or carry out
We will also have gift card raffles!!

We are currently looking for 2 positions.

1. Part Time Minister

2. Part Time Office Administrator

Click here to go to the Job Openings Page