Donna Brink-Fox, Elder; Personnel Committee

Light draws us in to the center, warming us with rays all around. This Advent season draw us together as a Third Presbyterian community, bathing us at the center of Christ’s light. Our time in Advent opens us up to receive—and to give—light.

Chris Bensch, Elder; Clerk of Session

During the winter months, one of our household’s traditions is to have candles lighted on the dinner table almost every night. It seems like a small thing, but somehow that glow has the power to turn leftovers into something much more elegant. Those dinner candles make me think of Advent. After all, a newborn baby is such a small and feeble thing. But like the glow radiating out from the candles, it’s amazing how the arrival of the Christ Child has the power to radiate out into so many lives and change the world.

Tom Klaseus, Elder; Congregational Fellowship Committee Chair

Reflecting on light in this Advent season, I think of:

• Long fall shadows, particularly at dusk and dawn;
• Warmth of home after being outdoors on brisk late fall days;
• Sharing a warm meal, particularly a hearty soup, upon arriving home;
• Offering thanks…

Peter DuBois, Director of Music/Organist

“I was glad when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord!’ Our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem. Jerusalem—built as a city that is bound firmly together” (Psalm 122:1–3).

The psalm for today in the Daily Lectionary is so timely… as we just celebrated our first Sunday back in our renovated church home yesterday! Our time of waiting and expectation is complete—just as our spiritual time of waiting and expectation during Advent is almost complete. Our celebration of the coming of the Savior is just days away, and the sense of promise and joy is palpable. Let us carry that awakened sense of possibility and promise with us through the year—as we celebrate Christmas, and beyond!
Loving God, help us always to look forward with expectation and a sense of possibility. And let us joyfully gather in the House of the Lord in this season, and always. AMEN.

Gregg Hamberger, Elder; Adult Faith Development Committee Chair

Since the Advent season takes place around the winter solstice, and culminates in Christmas just after the solstice, humans historically focus on the importance of light at this time of year. We too can correlate that historic focus with our religious observances…

“The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it” John 1:5.

George Gotcsik, Elder; Joint Budget & Finance Committee

A very special time for me is the first snowfall, whether seen with the filtered streetlight in front of the house or brilliantly lit by the morning sun. God’s creation is beautiful at any time, but in the stillness of that first snow, my excitement grows and I prepare to welcome Christ again as he comes into all the hearts that welcome him.

Rose Pethick, Elder, Outreach Committee

Advent Light:

• Brings brightness to friends and family;
• Warms gatherings and brings good feelings;
• Stirs us to send the gift of friendship to those far away during the Christmas season.

Bill Bay, Elder; Youth Committee Chair

Light is warmth—comfort in a time of harsh coldness.

Light is uplifting—raising spirits and encouraging activity and participation.

Light is reassuring—knowing that there is relief from “darkness”: sadness, trouble, sickness…

Chris Lenti, Associate Director of Music

“For as the lightning comes from the east and flashes as far as the west, so will be the coming of the Son of Man” (Matthew 24:27).

I love the power of this image of the coming of Christ. Sometimes we get so wrapped up with the sweetness of the image of the “baby” at Christmas that we forget the true impact of the coming of God into the world. Everything was changed on the day when Jesus was born. The world was never the same, human history took a new turn. Life was transformed. The light of Christ came as a powerful force, shattering the darkness of human loneliness, isolation, hatred and despair. May we look to this light of Christ with hope and expectation, knowing that the love of God has changed and will continue to change our world.

Your light can be a gentle, healing glow, but it can also be a powerful bolt of lightning. Help us not to be afraid to feel, know, and believe in the mighty power of your presence in our world. AMEN.

Karen Pryor, Elder; Congregational Fellowship Committee

Images of light that come to mind in this Advent Season:

• Gathering around a warm fireplace—its reflections on the faces of your companions;
• Sharing candlelight in the sanctuary—voices raised in song;
• The spread, gloved fingers of the homeless seeking warmth from a shared campfire.

Roderic P. Frohman, Associate Pastor for the Church in a Dark World

“The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned” (Matthew 4:16).

The Festival of Santa Lucia is a Scandinavian winter tradition, kept by my family of origin, that honors Saint Lucy. Santa Lucia is actually a saint of Sicilian origin. It is believed by many that the Santa Lucia Festival, celebrated on the 13th of December, is relatable to early Viking celebrations of the Winter Solstice on December 21. Since Santa Lucia is associated with light, and with spiritual sight, the Festival brings light into the darkness of the winter months. Traditionally a young girl wears a halo of candles and brings sweet breads to her family in the predawn morning of December 13 to announce the beginning of the Christmas season.
          Saint Lucy, or Santa Lucia was a young girl who lived in about 300 CE. At a young age, her Christianity made her the target of anti-Christian sentiment. She was blinded and executed. Lucy is now associated with both light in the darkness and sight. The festival of Santa Lucia celebrates the light brought to one of the darkest days of the year, just as Lucy’s faith shown in a dark period for early Christians. (http://www.wisegeek.com/)

Holy God, as the darkness of long winter nights descends on us we pray for the light of your presence in our lives and in our world. Keep us from maudlin thoughts, stewing in our own juices and projecting a sour attitude on those around us. Help us to see the promise of new birth symbolized by the light of small candles.

Susan Rupp, Elder; Joint Budget & Finance Committee Chair

This is the time of year when darkness draws us inward and we wait—preparing for the return of light; bringing with it clarity and peace. As a congregation, we join in a silent anticipation of the celebration of the One who demonstrates the full embodiment of divinity and humanity—who teaches us the meaning of being human.

Beth Adams, Elder; Membership & Evangelism Committee, Website Coordinator

Reflecting on light in this Advent season I think of:

• Absence of light and absence of family;
• Twinkling and sparkle of light that become reminders of hope;
• Cozy warmth by the fire that reflects the feeling of warmth from love within.

 

Suzie Kieran, Elder; More Light Committee

When I think of light and Advent I recall:

• Late November with its warmer clothes, less light during the day, and more time with family;
• Light means learning, bringing out old ideas and rethinking them;
• That the Season of Advent is just past harvest, giving us more time to reflect—What new ideas must come into the light, to outshine the old and bring us forward with our fellows?

Gregg Miller, Elder; Worship, Music & Arts Committee

When I think of light and Advent I recall:

• An end to a depressing time—transformed into a time of joy;
• Warmth that comes from the light, not only warmth of body, but also of spirit;
• The Light that allows us to see what was not visible in the darkness.

Becky D’Angelo-Veitch, Coordinator of Children’s Ministry and Congregational Life

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5).

This scripture is a part of the passage that we are focusing on for our current Qabats rotation. This sentence of scripture often comes to mind on Christmas eve when I sit at the 11:00pm service at my parent’s darkened church singing silent night with a lit candle in my hands. As a “tween” just old enough to stay awake through the late service, I would sit next to my grandmother. We would both surreptitiously glance down at her watch late into the service, until finally, its delicate hands came together at the12, and then, with huge smiles and soft whispers, we would be the first to wish each other, “Merry Christmas.”
         The first winter I came home from college, I removed my watch before heading out to church on Christmas eve, knowing that I could not bear to “see” midnight come, on that, our first Christmas without my Grandmother. And yet, midnight did come. Candles were lit, hymns were sung, and sorrow and joy mixed as we celebrated the birth of the savior who reminds us still that darkness will not overcome us.

Jim Chisholm, Elder; Joint Budget & Finance Committee

Reflecting on Advent, I think of the light:

• that shines in the eyes of grandchildren;
• that reflects in the eyes of grandparents;
• that warms the hearts of us all.

John Wilkinson, Pastor

Usually we perceive light to be a good thing. It provides warmth and illumination. But is the illumination always good? Good? Yes! Always easy? Perhaps not.
          An example... Recently, John Pilato (our wonderful lead sexton) replaced the overhead light bulbs in the chapel with a brighter, more powerful bulb. Suddenly, we were able to see better, more clearly, more brightly. We could read easily and see the beautiful details of that beautiful room. At the same time, we were able to see more clearly some work that needs done in the chapel, some worn out areas that had not always received the kind of care needed. Some of it is simply cleaning and maintenance. Some might have to wait until the next capital campaign! Either way, it was only with increased light were we able to see what needed attention.
          So was that good? Yes! Easy? Not necessarily, but surely needed in order for the chapel to be well-maintained and functioning at its best so that it can support our worship life.
          Perhaps Advent, or faith itself, can be that light that gives enhanced illumination and therefore heightened focus on what needs attention and care—in our church, in our world, in our lives.
          Jesus—whose birth we anticipate—is called the light of the world. As light, he illuminates and clarifies. Easy? Not always! Good? Absolutely?
God of light, help us to prepares our hearts and our world for the coming of Jesus, who is the light of the world. Help us tend to whatever needs illumination, so that we may live always into your promise. AMEN.

Bill Ramsay, Elder; Membership and Evangelism Committee

When I think of Advent and Light, I remember:

• The feeling of rebirth of the soul;
• The joy in singing the most beautiful music of this beautiful season of the church year;
• The joy and giving and receiving of fridship, love, and gifts.

 

Martha Tollers, Elder; Worship, Music & Arts Committee Chair

Reflecting on “Light”—I imagine:

The spreading of light—God’s light—within accompanies the is spreading of God’s love within one’s self. It is finding one’s self warm and calm and loved. Being warm and calm and loved, one can then share love outwardly. I think of the song: “This little light of mine…”

Ellen Rye, Elder; Youth Ministry Committee

Reflecting on “Light”—In this season of long cold evenings, we are reminded of the coming Birth of Jesus and the brilliant light he brings to our hearts. As the days grow shorter and the nights longer; we look forward to the coming birth of Jesus, who brings the light of hope, justice, and mercy.

Peg Rachfal, Elder; Membership & Evangelism Committee Co-Chair

Reflecting on “Light”—I think of:

• Flickering firelight on a cold evening;
• Arriving home to a dark, cold house that becomes filled with warmth, children’s laughter, the smells of dinner cooking, and the light of family;
• The light of the Christmas Eve service—candles flickering as they are lit during “Silent Night” and the added excitement of worshipping in our renovated sanctuary;
• God’s light, that follows us wherever we are.

Martha Langford, Associate Pastor for Congregational Care

Reflecting on  “Light”—The days are shorter now, so light seems precious—perhaps even as precious as the gifts those far-off kings brought the infant Jesus. I imagine them following the star through wilderness and wasteland, and wonder if that is not precisely the tenacity needed to follow Christ today.

God, grant us such tenacity so that we might follow your light wherever it leads us. AMEN.

Betsy Marvin, Elder: Worship, Music & Arts Committee

Reflecting on “Light”—One of my favorite types of day has bright, bright sunshine and cold temperatures, crunchy leaves (or crunchy snow) beneath my feet. In this season, I thank God for bright, crunchy days.

Jane Carden, Youth Ministry Coordinator

“Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16).

Last summer my husband and I took our real first vacation in many years. We spent several afternoons strolling through the tiny beach town. One particular shop kept catching my attention. I couldn’t go in to town without checking it out. It was a craft co-op that sold the works of local artisans. There were so many beautiful things for sale…quilts, stain glass light catchers, pottery and candles. The candle corner caught my focus. These candles came in all shapes and sizes….butterflies, seashells, flowers…fruit shapes, heart shapes, round shapes. Some were scented, some were not. Some were colorful, some were drab. One afternoon, I was mesmerized by a candle being poured. I said something about the candles being too beautiful to burn. The artist smiled and kept right on working. On the other hand, my always practical husband was puzzled. To him it was just a candle, a source of light. It didn’t matter to him what the color was or what the shape was as long as it had a wick to burn and shed light. Wasn’t that its purpose? That changed my mindset.

          Just as a candle shines light, we too are made to share light. We are all different on the outside. But we all have a wick…we all have the light of Christ within us and according to scripture we are to shine that light before others. Let God’s light shine this Advent season and always…with family, with friends, with strangers…at home, at school, at work…in our neighborhoods, in our communities, in every way. SHINE!

Loving God, Thank you for lighting up my life with your presence. Help me shine Your light always. Help me to share your love in every way. AMEN.

Easter Sunday, April 4

by John Wilkinson

Jesus’ life and ministry happens, and it matters. Holy Week happens, and matters. It absolutely matters – the last supper, the painful and tragic crucifixion. Resurrection happens, and of course it matters. It is the source from which our story flows. But it matters only so much as it gains traction, has a context, is shared from person to person, then from community to community, then from generation to generation, then from century to century, then back to its basics – acts of kindness and love and compassion, simple acts of praise, the formation of communities that gather and disperse to build and renovate and restore. The power and truth of resurrection is never resurrection itself, but all that flows from it, all that follows. Lives transformed. Worlds changed. Differences made.

Here is the gospel truth. From water the world was created and called good. Through water God led our forbears into freedom. In water Jesus was baptized, and so are we. By water God quenches our thirst and plants the tree of life.

And because Jesus meets us at the lakeshore and feeds us and empowers us, here is the gospel truth as well. We are all reconstruction projects. We are all renovation projects. We are all restoration projects. All reclamation projects. All reformation projects. We are all resurrection projects.

To conclude A River Runs Through It, Norman Maclean wrote, “Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time.” That sounds like resurrection to me, and all that flows from it. Do not weep, Mary. (John 20) Cast your nets, disciples. (John 21) Christ is risen. Christ is risen indeed.

Holy Saturday, April 3

by Martha Langford

By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our lyres. For there our captors required of us songs, and our tormentors, mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land? Psalm 137:1–4 (RSV)

“It is finished…” words from the cross as Jesus gives up his spirit, dying on a bleak Friday afternoon. The women watch; the men carry the body away, give it the dignity of grave clothes, lay it in that garden tomb. Roll the stone in place, “it is finished.”

“It is finished…” haunting words shroud the bleakness of Saturday’s silence. Jesus entombed—the light of the world alone in the darkness. Lay down your harps, “it is finished.”

“It is finished…” execution becomes exile; we too sojourn in Babylon, weep by its waters, and wait by its rivers. How shall we sing the Lord’s song; “it is finished,” is it not?

Gracious God, lift us up when we feel ourselves in exile, when we weep beside the river, when we hear the world’s voices mocking our hope. Fortify us as we wait in silence beside the stone-closed tomb. Having heard the promise of resurrection; give us eyes to see and ears to hear and hearts to understand. Bring us through the darkness of our days into the light of your eternal kingdom. Amen.

Good Friday, April 2

by Rod Frohman

Michel Quoist, born in Le Havre France in 1921 and died in 1997, was an urban parish priest and a French writer. As a post-war chaplain of Catholic Action he published Prayers in 1954. 2,500,000 copies have been sold throughout the world. I have a worn out copy to which I return very often.

Part of his book contains prayers for Good Friday, “Prayers on the Way of the Cross.” The central assumption of these prayers is Quoist’s affirmation: “Christ is still dying. He continues to offer himself for the redemption of the world through those who suffer and die around us today.” Here is prayer number five:

Simon of Cyrene Helps Carry Jesus’ Cross
He passed by on the road;
They pressed him into service,
The first to come along, a stranger

Lord, you accepted his help.
You did not want the help of a friend, the solace of a gesture of love, the generous impulse of one who cared.
You chose the enforced help of an indifferent and timid fellow.
Lord All-Powerful, you sought the help of a powerless man.
By your own choosing you are in need of us.

Lord, I need others.
The journey of life is too hard to be trodden alone.
But I avoid the hands outstretched to help me,
I want to act alone,
I want to fight alone,
I want to succeed alone.
And yet beside me walks a friend, a spouse, a neighbor, a fellow worker.
You have placed them near me Lord, and too often I ignore them.
And yet it is together that we shall save the world.

Lord, even if they are drafted, grant that I may see, that I may accept, all the Simons on my road.

Thursday, April 1

From “More Frightening than the Storm” by Lance Stone

And here all we can really say is that the immensity of the divine power is matched only by the immensity of its mystery. So it is that we have this great but troubling text from Job 38 that we read from, where God overwhelms Job with a vision of God’s cosmic, transcendent mystery. “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?” he asks. In other words, what do you know? What do you understand? Who are you anyway? You understand nothing. Human life is caught up in mystery far beyond human telling and rationalizing and our relentless determination to tame and to domesticate God will forever flounder upon the sheer mystery of who God is.

An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Martha Langford. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).

Tuesday, March 30

by John Wilkinson, Pastor

As Jesus has been teaching, preaching, performing miracles, the crowds are growing. In Matthew 14:22-33, he walked on the water, and Peter didn’t. But note the setting. He had just fed the crowd with loaves and fishes. He needs to get away. He dismisses the crowds. So perhaps our Lenten water can be the lake on which Jesus walked and Peter didn’t. But more so, perhaps it can be the lake shore where we gather to meet Jesus. That thin place between him and us, and our hopes and dreams and desires and fears—our expectations, and how he meets them.

Perhaps it is the same question, now some 2000 years old. Who is he? Who are we? What happens when we encounter Jesus at that lakeshore? How are our expectations of him, and us, met, exceeded, transformed?

So let’s ask the question one more time, as we prepare to meet him, at the lakeshore, at the foot of the cross, at the empty tomb. What are our expectations—of him, and us? Whatever they are, I could make the case that he does not meet them. Rather, he exceeds them, and better than that, he transforms them. We don’t necessarily get the messiah we want, or expect. But we get the one that we—and the world, and the church—need. And that is good news indeed.

Monday, March 29

by Jane Carden

“On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, ‘Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.’” John 7:37-38

My dad was a remarkable man. He was a fun-loving, forth-right, family man. He was a veteran of WWII, Korea, and Viet Nam. He loved the University of Delaware Blue Hens, the Baltimore Orioles, and the Golden Bear, Jack Nicklaus. And he loved to eat… the simple foods… ice cream, grape nuts cereal, and hotdogs or as my dad called them, tube steaks. Towards the end of his life, he found joy in the little things… petting a dog, singing along with Mitch, and his ice, oh how he loved his ice! During those last weeks, I was blessed to spend hours by his bedside reading, reminiscing and sharing glass after glass of crushed ice with him. I took joy in helping him as he took pleasure in the coldness, the crunching, and the refreshing feel it left him with. And those ice snacks always ended the same way, with a duet of “Ahhh.”

This Lenten season may your thirst be quenched with the Living Water, Jesus Christ. May you drink deeply from His well, be filled to overflowing with His loving Spirit, may your faith be refreshed and may you find yourself saying “Ahhh!” Glory be to God.

Loving God, as we continue our journey through Lent, may our thirst be quenched through the living water. Amen.

Palm Sunday, March 28

Prayer of Water
by Joan Brown, osf, Archdiocese of Santa Fe

"Be praised my God for Sister Water who is useful, humble, precious and pure."

As St. Francis prayed in great gratitude for Sister Water,
we pray in thankfulness for her life sustaining generosity.
Oh, water, in your mysterious beauty you cause the desert to bloom.
One tiny drop spread collected with thousands of drops
waters seeds and future harvests to feed us and all creatures.
One tiny drop multiplied quenches our burning thirst.
Our bodies, like the body of earth, are over 75% water.
We are a water people.
We are a water planet.

Oh compassionate God, Creator who breathed over the waters we seek forgiveness for our mindless use of water. We beg for wisdom to know how to conserve and cherish water, We ask healing for the ways that we disrespect and contaminate our sister. In this drought time we wait and watch for the gift of rain upon earth. We watch and wait for the rain of grace into our souls. Come free us from hatred, greed, fear, and our lack of love for your gifts upon earth. Transform us into living streams of water flowing green and moist with life, hope and love for earth and all peoples. We pray this prayer in the name of God who is gracious Creator, Jesus who is Eternal Word, and Spirit who is Wellspring of Wisdom.

Thursday, March 25

From “In His Hands Are the Depths” by Daniel G Deffenbaugh

Recently I discovered the work of an artist whose depictions of events from the Hebrew Bible and New Testament speak to me in a new and challenging way… Often He Qi uses very vibrant primary colors to give his paintings the impression of complex movement and life, but in some instances he relies on the more elemental shades of green, yellow, and umber, allowing only an incidental tone of red to nuance his canvas, as is evident in this scene. Here Jesus is seated at Jacob’s well and a young woman is standing before him; their red mouths accentuate the improbable dialogue that is about to take place.

An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Martha Langford. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).

Tuesday, March 23

by John Wilkinson, Pastor

During Lent, the Junior Choir has been offering a 200-year old plus paraphrase of the 23rd Psalm as a worship introit, by perhaps the greatest of hymn writers, Isaac Watts. It is in my top-five of all time favorite hymns, which I actually have. The first stanza is printed on this morning’s bulletin cover: “My shepherd will supply my needs, Jehovah is his name. In pastures fresh me makes me feed beside the living stream. He brings my wandering spirit back when I forsake his ways. And lead’s me of his mercy’s sake in paths of truth and grace.” I learned that hymn as a choir anthem in high school and it has stuck with me, sung at the baptisms of each of our children.

My shepherd will supply my need. We believe that. The theologians call it “providence.” It is one of those theologically jargon-y words that makes religion less accessible in the real world. But it is not that jargon-y. “Providence” and “provide” are related—to see ahead, to know what’s coming, to meet needs. Providence implies a provider who provides—like a health care provider, to use the phrase of the day, who can see ahead of a patient's need and offer the right response.

Isaac Watts concluded his lovely paraphrase of Psalm 23 this way: “The sure provision of my God attend me all my days. O may Thy house be my abode and all my work be praise. There would I fined a settled rest while others go and come. No more a stranger or a guest, but like a child at home.” May that be our benediction—may God’s sure provision attend us always, and the people we love, and the world God created and called good.

Monday, March 22

by Martha Langford

Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, ‘Do you want to be made well?’ The sick man answered him, ‘Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Stand up, take your mat and walk.’ At once the man was made well, and he took up his mat and began to walk. JOHN 5:2-9

The photo comes from a trip to Jerusalem; we had traveled to its northeast quadrant to visit St. Anne’s Church. Once outside, we saw it... a place where high walls crowd verdant ruins that hold at their center a pool of water. Closer examination confirmed what archeologists had already discovered; the pool at St. Anne’s has five porticoes making it this pool—the pool of Beth-zatha better known as the pool of Bethesda.

In the time of Jesus, two nearby caves were turned into baths dedicated to the Greek god Asclepius as a place of healing. And the healing properties of the water were known to the Jewish people of the day. They knew it as a place where God’s angels would stir the waters and make of them a healing fountain.

The invalid of this passage has lain by the waters for thirty-eight years, waiting for his opportunity to be first into the waters as they stirred; a long wait to receive God’s healing mercy. The days and weeks and years were filled—I am sure—with at least a few “almosts” and “might-have-beens.” But, there he lay, alone and unable to make his own way into the full measure of God’s grace as the first to enter the pool.

But this day, a different kind of stirring was happening in Jerusalem. It was festival time and crowds were on the move into the city; Jesus among them. Heading toward the Sheep Gate, Jesus sees the man—knows his plight—and asks the simple question, “Do you want to be made well?”

After tendering his excuses at his own inability to get himself well, he looks to Jesus who—with a full measure of God’s grace and mercy—makes the man whole once again.

First! He tried for thirty-eight years to be first! It was a competition and the gold medal was God’s grace and mercy. I wonder how often we treat God’s grace as if it was a prize that one might earn. What a burden to carry. I wonder how we would respond, if we were asked to lay such a burden down—to find grace and wholeness through the one who claims us and whose name we bear. I wonder how long it would take for us to find life in Christ’s question, “Do you want to be made well?”

Dear God, through your son Jesus Christ, you share the gift of grace and mercy and wholeness and life. Grant us the courage to accept the gift, to be made whole and wholly yours. AMEN.

Fifth Sunday in Lent, March 21

Thursday, March 18

From “Water—A Gift of Life and a Human Right” by Geoff Davis

It is therefore a deeply religious and ethical issue and transgresses all standards of justice when people—and all of the created order—are denied water. Injustice is inflicted, not only against God’s creation, but against the creator. A sound ethical and theological understanding regarding water is essential.

An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Rod Frohman. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).

Wednesday, March 17

by Mary Jane Link

Someone recently sent me this poem— The author is a young Canadian man, Mike Cumberland...

A Canadian New Year

At times you will feel the weight of the thwart on your shoulders—
There will be many miles of portages.
Remember, there will be a time to remove your canoe—
Your burdens will be swept away by the river's currents.
And—when you step into the river it will always be a different river—
And you—my friend—will always be a different you.

Gracious God, give us comfort as we remember that you bear our burdens. Amen.

Monday, March 15

by Peter DuBois

“They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, ‘Ephphatha,’ that is ‘Be opened.’ And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it.” – Mark 7: 32, 34-36

Growing up as a Methodist, one of the hymns prominent in my memory (some might say it’s the Methodist Anthem) is “O for a thousand tongues to sing,” written by Charles Wesley in 1739. And I think Wesley must have been inspired by this healing text from Mark, which is the gospel text in today’s lectionary. Among its eighteen verses (yes, 18!) are a catalog of all those whose sins are forgiven through Christ, and who then should proclaim His glory enthusiastically. One stanza, generally omitted today over sensitivities to the physically challenged, grows directly from this passage: “Hear him, ye deaf, his praise, ye dumb, your loosened tongues employ; ye blind, behold your Savior come, and leap, ye lame, for joy.” I believe the metaphor, however, extends way beyond the literal interpretation of the text to include shaking off anything that impedes our ability to praise God and Jesus.

Creator God, help us to recognize the wonderful gift of your Son, and to rid ourselves of any impediment to fully praising you, as if we had a thousand tongues to sing. Amen.

Fourth Sunday in Lent, March 14

Friday, March 12

by Amy Stratton-Smith

The Greek word from which we get “baptize” means “to dip so as to change” and was a common technical term in Jesus’ day. It was an every day working word, not an ethereal, holy, or abstract concept. Textile workers made their living “baptizing” fabrics in dye to infuse a piece of cloth with bright colors. Blacksmiths “baptized” hot metal in water to make it stronger. Warriors “baptized” the tips of their arrows in poison to make them more lethally effective. Peasants “baptized” hard, stale bread in their soup or stew to soften it enough to avoid breaking their teeth on it. In the same way housewives “baptized” their families’ dirty laundry in the river to make it clean, John the Baptist dipped his followers, and even Jesus, in the Jordan River to cleanse them of guilt for their sins.

The people were all agog, wondering about John, whether perhaps he was the Messiah, but he spoke out and said to them all: "I baptize you with water; but there is one coming who is mightier than I am. I am not worthy to unfasten the straps of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire" (Luke 3:15-16).

I have been wondering what it means to be baptized with the Holy Spirit and with fire. What does that look like? How would you know if you were dipped, or immersed in the Holy Spirit and fire so as to remain yourself but become substantially different? Still a piece of cloth, but with a brighter color? Still a piece of metal, but much stronger, and with your atomic structure rearranged? Still an arrow, but more potent? Still a garment, but fresh and clean? Still a chunk of bread, but more appetizing and digestible?

In Paul’s letter to the Galatians 5:22, he suggests that the fruits, or harvest, of the Holy Spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness, and self-control. (Galatians 5:22)

What brightens your spirit so that you bring joy to those around you? What gives you courage to stand up for someone weaker? What makes you more effective acting on behalf of someone needing help? What enables you to give up a grudge and embrace the possibility of a new relationship with an old adversary? What softens your hard edges, making you more compassionate and accessible to others?

When have you been patient where you might have been irritable? Open and welcoming when you might have been reserved and aloof? Confident and bold when you might have been timid? Offering kind words instead of the snappy come-back that first flashed through your mind? Calm and clear-thinking in the midst of a crisis, enabling you to be much more useful than you could have imagined?

Answers to questions like these are the footprints of the Holy Spirit making tracks across our lives. And when we look closely enough, they show up in the most outrageously ordinary and amazingly unexpected places.

Dear God, open our hearts to receive this baptism of Holy Spirit and fire, so that we may be immersed in it and come out changed: brighter, stronger, cleaner, and more nourishing, to the glory of God. Amen.

Thursday, March 11

From “Sermon Series: A River Runs Through It” by Thomas A Sweet

The Shorter Catechism has one hundred seven questions and originally was devised by the Westminster divines to educate church members in matters of doctrine and belief. But the Reverend Maclean believed in the encompassing sufficiency of the first question and answer as the key for leading a contented, faithful life, and well-lived life. Glorify God in everything you do and enjoy God. If you are not enjoying God, he would say, you do not know God well enough. Your conception of God is too small or mistaken. When I think of enjoying God, I recall the way Jesus answered the early questions the disciples asked of him by saying, “Come and see!”

An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Martha Langford. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).

Wednesday, March 10

by Kathy Wise

Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!"

He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.

The men were amazed and asked, "What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him!" Matthew 8:23-27

I fully admit that I am an avid movie fan—and have been for quite some time. One movie that I particularly like is Tender Mercies, a character study of a defeated, washed-up country singer-songwriter who finds redemption by the time the movie is over. Robert Duvall won a Best Actor Oscar in 1984 for his performance as Mac Sledge and Horton Foote won the Best Original Screenplay Oscar for his story.

In one scene, one Sunday Mac and his stepson Sonny are baptized in the local church with Rosa Lee, wife and mom, beaming from the church choir. On the way home, Sonny states that he doesn’t feel any different now that he is baptized and stretches up to see himself in the rear-view mirror. “I don’t look any different, do I?” he asks. “Do you feel any different, Mac?” And Mac replies, “Not yet.”

But as the story continues, Mac changes. He reaches out to a youthful country band and helps them become established. He reconciles with his daughter and his former manager. He remains a faithful, loving husband and learns to be an attentive stepfather. He even helps his ex-wife as much as possible when tragedy occurs.

Mac finds an inner calmness and strength to deal with life’s storms. Do we movie-goers believe that all the storms in Mac’s life are over? No. But we have confidence that Mac will be able to handle them.

Oh Lord, help us to open our hearts and allow you to calm the storms in our lives.

Tuesday, March 9

by John Wilkinson

The Third Church annual report, available this week, lists all of our members who have died in the past year. They, along with loved ones we all have lost, constitute the great cloud of witnesses testified to in the book of Hebrews.

Our funeral liturgy includes a prayer adapted from the Church of England’s Book of Common Prayer. It includes these concluding words. “Especially we thank you for your servant _____, whose baptism is complete in death…” Whose baptism is complete in death.

We do not know how we will live. We certainly do not know how we will die. But we know this. In life and in death we belong to God, and baptism, any baptism, every baptism, is not the exchange where that belonging is established, but it is the moment when that belonging is signed and sealed.

So perhaps the water we are considering during Lent can be for us a symbol of baptism. A baptismal font, perhaps, or the river in which Jesus, and millions since, have been baptized.

In Romans, Paul writes that “when we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised…we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with Christ in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”

That is our faith. This is our hope. Remember your baptism, and be grateful.

Monday, March 8

by Rod Frohman

For this slight momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory beyond all measure, because we look not at what can be seen but what cannot be seen; for what can be seen is temporary, but what cannot be seen is eternal. II Corinthians 4:17-18

My cousin through marriage is Marjorie Thompson author of Soul Feast. Her book is a good read for Lent. In it she suggests that the way the spiritual life is put together by, "developing a rule of life."

The rationale is this, "When it comes to spiritual growth, human beings are much like creeping vines and rambling roses. Without support they collapse into a heap on the ground. We need structure in order to give us freedom to grow as we are meant to. What we need is a rule of life. This is a pattern of spiritual disciplines that provide structure and direction for growth."

Marjorie cites several examples of personal rules such as: taking time to pray, read, meditate, advocate, engage in service, exercise, or sacrifice personal desires in order that others might be free. All of these involve choices. Lent can be a time to create a structure on which the fruits of our lives can grow.

Holy God may our own lives be a school for your service for preserving justice and correcting faults. May we not fear a rule of faith for our life but rather find therein freedom and salvation.

Third Sunday in Lent, March 7

Friday, March 5

by Karen Pryor

As I’ve been pondering plans for Third churchers to move out into various locations in the community during our construction period, it occurred to me that our Lenten theme of water is quite relevant. If not tightly contained, water has a way of seeping out, dampening whatever it finds in its path. Sometimes the effect is nourishing; sometimes destructive. I wonder—as we Third Churchers leave our building for other meeting places in the community—what will be our impact on those we encounter in those spaces? Will they notice us? Will they see the Spirit within us? Will we reach out in any way and will they respond? Any chance that the connections we make will be real enough that some may want to return with us to the shelter of our own four walls?

Lord, let us be cognizant that this time away from our usual church spaces may provide opportunities for evangelism that we should not overlook

Thursday, March 4

From “Social Justice Committee Water Sermon” by Toni Wing, et al

Life originally emerged from water, and water nourishes all living things. You can do without sex, books, movies, cell phones, even food, for quite a long time. But—go waterless for a mere 72 hours, and you’re dead. Water is essential to life. It is life. Without doubt, water is the sacred birthright of every living creature.

An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Rod Frohman. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in Room 103 of the Education Wing (ground floor).

Wednesday, March 3

by Dale Maddock

As a young man, soon out of high school I joined the Navy. After boot camp and Navy photographer’s school, my first assignment was to be part of an aircraft squadron. It certainly seemed to be a long way from the ocean.

Soon enough though, we were deployed for service onto the USS Independence, a mighty ship indeed. Fully 100 feet from the waterline up to the flight deck, and over 1000 feet long—it was quite awesome to me. Once underway, the sight of the ocean was even more spectacular. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but water. No signs of life other than my fellow sailors and the occasional schools of flying fish. Too much water to comprehend.

Our first port of call was Singapore which back then was a less than pristine, orderly urban environment. It was a cacophony of colors, sounds and textures. I most remember seeing up close a sampan . . . just like in the movies. Small, less than 20 feet, it was the home for an entire family of at least six people. There may have been more but I could not tell. I remember thinking how amazing it was that they could spend their lives on such a boat; that they could eat, talk, sleep, and play in a space so small. What a miracle—all on the water of a small river. It seemed incomprehensible that it could be a home.

The second port of call was Hong Kong. This was back in the time of its British ownership. Mainline China. . . close and forbidding. I took a bus tour to the countryside. Along the way, as the guide spoke, we observed tiny spots in the distance on a brown plain. Many, many spots. As we drew nearer, the spots grew larger and eventually resolved into a village of sampans on a sea of mud. Most confusing. The answer to our questions of how these boats came to be so isolated so far inland was that a typhoon had recently blown through and the sampans were carried into the bay by the winds. Then when the winds subsided, so did the water.

The sampans remained, waiting, waiting for the next rise of water to carry them from the mud. I thought then and now, how do they survive, these people of the small boats? I knew from Singapore that the boats actually represent families and that without water they were stuck. Their lives were, and are, dependent on God’s water for life itself. It is a visceral image of God’s grace. I had not imagined a sampan without water to ride upon, or families so dependent on the tide and rains.

I came to see then that my mighty aircraft carrier, home to over 5000 people, was as reliant upon God’s good graces as those small sampans. Water is God’s gift of life. Its abundance makes it easy to take for granted. At least until it is gone. Then life becomes very fragile indeed. It is God’s grace that keeps our boat afloat.

Monday, March 1

by Chris Lenti

May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from God’s glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father. Colossians 1: 11-12

Patience is certainly a virtue we all need in our daily living. There seem to be so many things that we have no control over such as the weather, a returned phone call, the arrival of a bus, getting over an illness, the resolution of a conflict. But patience is really not about waiting until someone does something about the problem. True patience asks us to live the moment to the fullest, to taste the here and now. Sometimes we behave as if the good things we hope for will happen tomorrow, or later and somewhere else. Let us learn to be patient and trust that what we are truly looking for maybe hidden somewhere close by or even right where we are now.

Loving God, Teach us to live in patience, searching to find the good in every moment, and joyfully giving thanks to you for every day. Amen.

Second Sunday in Lent, February 28

Water Prayer
From the Lutheran World Federation

Holy God, our Living Water and our merciful Guide, together with the rivers and seas, wells and springs, we bless and magnify you. You led your people by the pillar of cloud and fire through the sea, and provided them water from the rock. We thank you for the gift of water.

The Holy Spirit moved over water in the beginning of creation. In water, your Son Jesus received the gift of baptism and was anointed by the Holy Spirit to lead us into the way of everlasting life through his life, death, and resurrection.

Gracious God, you have called us into a community of faith. We are called to life by you and to sustain life with you, the source of life and creator of every being. We pray for those who struggle every day for their daily supply of water: in the slums of Brazilian cities, in the deserts of Africa, in the townships where clean water does not flow. We pray for those who experience floods and for others in desperate need of water. We pray that those who are fortunate to have an abundance of water do not take your gift for granted, or fail to heed and understand the cries of people who need water for life.

Amen.

Friday, February 26

by Betty Iwan

For inspiration for my Lenten blog, I looked in the Presbyterian Hymnal and picked hymn #368, I’ve Got Peace Like a River . It is an African-American Spiritual whose verses can be summarized like this.

I’ve got peace like a river in my soul.
I’ve got joy like a fountain in my soul.
I’ve got love like an ocean in my soul.

African-American Spirituals are often written in coded language. I wonder if the words in this spiritual are talking about God who is flowing continuously through our soul, who is as refreshing as a cool fountain and as wide and expansive as an ocean.

Even though I am fond of the imagery suggested by the original words, I decided to insert my own water images to bring this spiritual to life for me in another way. With my changes, the hymn looks like this.

I’ve got peace like a hot tub in my soul.
I’ve got joy like a shower in my soul.
I’ve got love like a warm spring in my soul.

I know that I can get totally outside of myself and feel relaxed when I am soaking alone in a hot tub. I feel at peace and at one with the world. I get that amazing feeling of being one with God as well.

I feel joy, like being in a state of nirvana when I am taking a shower and letting the hot water flow down over my body. As a good earth keeper, I know I should keep the shower short but taking a hot shower is a spiritual experience for me. I feel joy in living and joy in God.

When I bathed in Radium Hot Springs in Canada in 1981, I felt warm and comfortable all over, a physical state I rarely experience in chilly Rochester. I felt that life was good, that God is love and that I never wanted to leave the warm springs.

Of course staying in a hot tub or shower or warm springs is not practical and it is not where the world is. Dinner needs to be prepared, a meeting or follow up work from a meeting needs my attention, the hungry need to be fed at the Dining Room Ministry and a letter needs to be written to my legislator to lobby for laws that assure equal treatment for all persons. Yet basking in the warmth of the hot water cleanses and refreshes both my body and my soul so I that am ready to reenter the world and get back to God’s work.

God, you are our Source of Life and our Renewal. You flow continuously through our souls like a river. You are as refreshing as a cool fountain and as wide and expansive as an ocean. You are peace like a good soak in a hot tub, joy like the feeling of an ever flowing shower and love that embraces us like the gentle water in the warm springs. Thank you, God.

Thursday, February 25

From “Sacramental Mud” by Barbara Brown Taylor

“That is mud, you fool! You are about to lie down in a tub full of mud!” But lie down I did, and it was like nothing I have ever felt. It was hot, and heavy, and smelled like the kind of bogs dinosaurs used to get stuck in. I found a rock underneath me with one hand and a stick with the other. I wondered where exactly this mud had been before it was around me. Then the M.B.A. [Mud Bath Assistant] came back in and raked more mud over us until we were both covered up to our chins. At first we laughed, but as the heat and weight got to us we grew more solemn, and I at least was conscious as never before of what it was like to be buried alive, to be lying naked under pounds and pounds of real dirt. From dust you came and to dust you shall return, I thought. This is what it means…

An excerpt from today’s sermon for the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES led by Martha Langford. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in JOHNSTON HALL.

Wednesday, February 24

by Elizabeth Laidlaw, Deacon

The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life. John 4:13

When I boot up my computer each morning, my homepage takes me to a live webcam on Sanibel Island in Florida. I am greeted with the lulling vision of waves rolling in and out, caressing the beach. For me, the ministry of Third Church members washes over Rochester (and Louisiana and Kenya) in waves of love….sometimes smoothing over rough times, sometimes bringing food or removing obstacles for each other, sometimes agitating the landscape for change, sometimes just being there in stillness. Christ’s love, which moves through us in these waves, sustains me.

Loving God, help me during this Lenten season, to feel the energy of your son’s love and use the power of that love to do your work here and now. Amen

Tuesday, February 23

by John Wilkinson, Pastor

A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” (John 4:7-15)

The unnamed Samaritan woman—an icon to me—understands, as do we all, that we experiences a deep thirst, and that the only way for it to be quenched is an encounter with this living water. This living water appears here not as doctrine, not as dogma, but as relationship, as flesh-and-blood, as conversation, as journey.

What the woman does for us at the outset of Lent is call us back to the well, reminding us of our deep thirst. Tradition has spent so much time analyzing what has been wrong, or less frequently, right, with this unnamed woman. That may be a worthy pursuit, but it’s a pursuit that Jesus seems not to be overly concerned with. Rather, his focus becomes her focus – what she needs, what we all need, to live the lives we are intended to live, to have the deep thirst of our life quenched, to come into contact with this one, this living water, who meets us in unexpected items and places, and who transforms our lives, changing everything.

“Give me this water,” she says. Give us this water, we say.

Monday, February 22

by Becky D'Angelo Veitch

“Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water” John 7:38.

This verse of scripture is on the cover of our Lenten brochure. It was also included in a prayer in today’s “Mission Yearbook for Prayer and Study” which this day focuses on Kenya, and tomorrow focuses on the Democratic Republic of Congo. In preparing to write this devotion, I spent days thinking about water—water in scripture, water and its soothing properties, water and justice in the world. I thought about baptism and cleansing and quenching of deep thirst. Through it all, however, I kept coming back to my memories of my visit to Africa.

In the spring of 1998 my boyfriend (now husband) Robert and I returned to the village where he had served as a mission volunteer in the Democratic Republic of Congo. We were there for the purpose of helping dear friends of his (also mission workers) move their family of five back to England. While we were there, Robert was welcomed back to the village as family. I was welcomed warmly, and, as his girlfriend, scrutinized thoroughly.

On many occasions during our visit we ate dinner at the homes of people with whom Robert had worked closely. We were treated as honored guests, and I later found out that our host families would borrow water purification systems from the British and American missionary families to prepare for our visits, knowing that our unaccustomed bodies would be made sick by drinking the village water.

As anyone who has traveled to developing nations can tell you, there is no more humbling experience than to be the recipient of this incredible hospitality. These families were some of the most joyful and faithful Christians that I have met. I was thankful to these families for the special efforts that they made to provide us with purified water, but the living water, that still to this day nourishes my spirit, is the experience of breaking bread and sharing fellowship and prayer with them.

Loving God, May your life-giving waters nourish us in our bodies and our spirits, this day, and ever more. Amen.

First Sunday in Lent, February 21

Friday, February 19

by Peg Strite, Deacon

A number of years ago, on a trip to Israel, our tour group spent the night in Tiberias, a city on the West side of the Sea of Galilee. Earlier that day, a storm had brought waves crashing up along the shore, and some of the roads were flooded. Folks were driving down as close as possible to see the unusual event. We were told that our planned boat trip from Tiberias to Capernaum would be cancelled.

I always think of that experience when I read or hear the story in Matthew 8:23-27 about Jesus calming the storm on that very sea. His followers were afraid, crying "Lord save us. We are perishing." But Jesus said to them, "Why are you afraid, you of little faith?"

That's the most important message in the story, I think. Jesus seems almost surprised by their fear. After all, He is with them. Why should they be afraid?

Looking out our hotel window the morning after the storm, we could see that the sea was as smooth as glass. For me, that was a reminder of Jesus' calm, reassuring presence, and of how faith in that presence can fill our lives with peace, comfort, and strength.

Loving God, we give thanks for your presence in our lives each day. Strengthen our faith and remind us that Jesus is with us even in the midst of our fears. In His name we pray... Amen.

Thursday, February 18

From “The Water of Life” by Charles Kingsley

 The East—and indeed the West likewise—was haunted by dreams of a Water of Life, a Fount of Perpetual Youth, a Cup of Immortality: dreams at which only the shallow and the ignorant will smile; for what are they but tokens of man's right to Immortality,—of his instinct that he is not as the beasts,—that there is somewhat in him which ought not to die, which need not die, and yet which may die, and which perhaps deserves to die? How could it be kept alive? how strengthened and refreshed into perpetual youth?

An excerpt from today’s sermon for at the LENTEN VOICES SERMON SERIES, led by Rod Frohman. Bring your lunch and join the discussion at 12:00 NOON in JOHNSTON HALL.

Ash Wednesday, February 17

John Wilkinson, Pastor

We who live somehow connected to the Protestant Christian tradition are not quite sure what to make of Lent in general and Ash Wednesday in particular. It seems somehow “catholic,” whatever that may mean. It is not, or I should rather say, not exclusively, Catholic. Forty (40) is a biblical number – Noah’s Ark, the wandering Israelites, and Jesus’ time in the wilderness, you will remember. And the notion of ashes as a reminder of our mortality can be depressing and grim, though I prefer to think of it as liberating and humbling – and liberation and humility can go a long way in the living of our days.

On top of all that, there is the notion of giving something up. Perhaps you need to do that. Perhaps I need to do that. Not as punishment, but as an opportunity to focus, to contemplate. Or better yet, rather than giving something up, why not take something up. Something good for you – good for your body, your spirit, your mind, your community, your church.

So Lent begins. It begins at Third Church in a particular way, as we focus on water. You know about all of the events – come to some…your spirit will be nourished. I am particularly intrigued about water. Right now, its primary form is snow. By Easter, its primary form may be slush! But you get the point. It is such a simple thing, yet such a profound carrier of the biblical story, and such a fundamental need for human living and our globe’s future.

As Lent unfolds, please be in touch with me, through this blog or at jwilkinson@thirdpresbyterian.org. Let me know how living water is nourishing your soul, or how we as a community may discover new sources of living water. And may the blessings of Lent – giving up and taking up, be yours, as we journey to Jerusalem and new life.