Oct 02

Pushing Against a Door Marked “Pull”

He fell to the ground. Then he heard a voice say, “Saul, Saul, why are you working so hard against Me?”  Saul answered, “Who are You, Lord?” He said, “I am Jesus, the One Whom you are working against. You hurt yourself by trying to hurt Me.” (Acts 9:4-5 New Life Version)

Have you ever found yourself straining against a door, only to realize—too late—it was marked “pull”?  There’s a moment of awkwardness, maybe a sheepish glance around, and then a quiet correction.  But it’s also a moment rich with spiritual metaphor.

Sometimes in life, we push hard in the wrong direction.  We strive, plan, and persist—only to find resistance, confusion, or exhaustion.  We may be pushing against grief, change, or even God’s invitation to let go. Like Saul on the road to Damascus, we hear the divine voice: “Why are you working so hard against Me?” (Acts 9:4–6).  It’s not condemnation—it’s compassion.  A call to pause, listen, and reorient.

Faith isn’t always about effort.  Sometimes it’s about surrender.  Pulling open the door marked grace.  Trusting that what feels like a closed path might actually be an invitation to receive, not achieve.

In our worship, our conversations, and our pub theology gatherings, we’re learning to notice the signs. To ask: Am I pushing where God is inviting me to pull? Am I striving when I could be receiving? Am I resisting transformation when I could be stepping into it?

Let’s reflect on the blockades of life and maybe God trying to bring grace to us, if we only do it his way.  May we be gentle with ourselves and one another. May we laugh at our missteps, reflect on our patterns, and open the doors that lead to deeper trust, wider welcome, and unexpected grace.

Pastor Greg

“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.”
Romans 8:37 (ESV)

Sep 17

Climbing the Ladder: A Call to Aim Higher

“If You Aim for Nothing—You Will Hit It Every Time.”

In Genesis 28, Jacob dreams of a ladder reaching from earth to heaven, with angels ascending and descending—this vision that is a profound metaphor for human potential.  This ladder isn’t just divine architecture; it’s a symbol of the vertical axis of meaning, a path each of us can choose to climb.

We are being urged to recognize that life is structured hierarchically—not just socially, but morally and psychologically.  To aim higher is to voluntarily shoulder responsibility, confront chaos, and strive toward what is most meaningful.  Jacob, alone and exiled, receives this vision not in comfort but in crisis.  It’s a reminder: revelation often comes when we’re most vulnerable.

To climb your own ladder is to organize your values, confront your shadow, and act as though your life matters—because it does.  Every step upward is a choice to become more integrated, more courageous, more whole.

Jacob names the place Bethel—the house of God. Peterson would say: when you aim upward, even the ordinary becomes sacred.  So, ask yourself—what rung are you standing on? And what’s stopping you from reaching the next?

The ladder is there. The ascent is yours.

Aim for the highest!

Pastor Greg

Sep 11

The Quiet Power of Sacrifice

Our text for this Sunday is Genesis 22:1-14, where we will be confronted with the idea of Sacrifice.  Here is an article I enjoyed about this topic in our current life.

In our fast-paced world, sacrifice might seem outdated—but it’s still the heartbeat of community and faith. Sacrifice isn’t just about giving something up; it’s about choosing what matters most. Parents sacrifice time for their children. Neighbors lend a hand when it’s inconvenient. Citizens show up to vote, serve, and speak out. These everyday acts build trust, connection, and hope.

Spiritually, sacrifice reflects our deepest values. Whether we give generously, live sustainably, or stand for justice, we’re saying: “I believe in something bigger than myself.” It’s how love becomes action, and how grace takes root in daily life.

As we gather in worship and conversation, let’s honor the sacrifices—big and small—that shape our shared journey. They remind us that transformation doesn’t come through ease, but through commitment. And in giving, we find ourselves part of something sacred, enduring, and beautifully human.

Pastor Greg

Sep 03

Creation and Chaos: Living the Story

Genesis 1:1-2:4

In the beginning, there was chaos. Not destruction, but potential. The deep. The void. The Spirit hovered.

And then—God spoke.

Genesis 1:1–2:3 isn’t just a story about how the world began. It’s a liturgical poem, a sacred rhythm that reminds us: even in the midst of disorder, God creates. God blesses. God calls it good.

Each day of creation unfolds with intentionality. Light and dark. Sky and sea. Creatures of every kind. And finally, humanity—formed in the image of divine creativity, called to steward and to rest.

But this isn’t just ancient history. It’s a mirror.

We live in a world that feels chaotic: climate crisis, political division, personal griefs and communal fractures. And yet, the Genesis story whispers: chaos is not the end. It’s the canvas. God still hovers. God still speaks.

In our worship, we echo this rhythm. We gather in the chaos of our lives, and together we name what is good. We create space for light. We bless the ordinary. We rest.

This week, as we explore “Creation and Chaos,” we invite you to reflect:

  • Where do you see God hovering over the deep places in your life?
  • What new creation might be emerging from your chaos?
  • How can Sabbath become a practice of resistance and renewal?

Let’s live the story—not as passive readers, but as co-creators. Let’s speak light into darkness. Let’s call forth beauty from the void. And let’s rest, trusting that even in the chaos, God is not finished.

Pastor Greg