Author: admin_tgc

“One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!”

The call to evangelism terrifies and confuses many of us because we don’t know our own stories. In John 9:9, Jesus heals a man who was born blind, and the miracle causes huge controversy. After his sight is restored, the man doesn’t understand everything about Jesus. When he is hauled before the authorities and questioned, he doesn’t know that Jesus is the son of God. He doesn’t know how he was healed, he doesn’t know whether Jesus broke the law by healing him on the sabbath. He does know one thing, though.

He knows his own story. 

He knows that he used to be blind and now he can see. He knows that Jesus gave him sight. He doesn’t understand it, but he knows that for sure.

We think we should say nothing until we can say everything. We think we shouldn’t open our mouths until we are confident we can answer every question and understand fully the mysteries of God. But, really, all we need to know is our own story. All we need is a willingness to be vulnerable and tell it.  

And, yet, many of us believe that we don’t have a story to tell. Many of us believe that our lives are too small, too ordinary, and too messy to become a worthy story.  

That’s not true. God is alive and at work in your life. Your life is full of Jesus stories—stories worthy of telling. People seeking the Lord aren’t looking for religious experts or sophisticated theologians or moral role models. People are hungry for God stories in the lives of people that are just like them.

I hope you’ll listen in. Together, we’ll discover how knowing our own Jesus stories is the first step to sharing our faith and growing in God’s love.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

This Sunday, we begin a new worship series called “Go Fish.” This is exactly what Jesus invited his first followers to do when they joined him on his mission. He said, “From now on you’ll be fishing for people.”

Seriously. What does that even mean?

Well, we find the first clue when we remember that when Jesus said this, he was talking to actual fishermen. He was telling them, as they stepped into a wholly new life with him, their old lives weren’t wasted. Jesus invited his first followers to give their whole selves to his holy mission, but Jesus was also telling them that anything and everything they had to offer would be relevant in the Kingdom.

You used to fish for fish, but now you’ll fish for people. From this moment on, you’ll find people where they are and catch them up into eternal life.

It’s the same for us, friends. The Holy Spirit is still on the loose, interrupting the lives of ordinary people just like us. The Holy Spirit is still inviting us to bring all of who we are into this new, wild, abundant life in the Kingdom. 

I hope you’ll listen in as we discover how Jesus is inviting us, exactly as we are, to become all that we were created to be.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

This Sunday, we explore the final part of our mission: Inviting All to Serve and Come Alive in Christ. But, this coming alive in Christ part, it’s the goal we equally long for and dread.

Because, for the most part, we can all see the value in having an open, welcoming community that invites all. And, the serving is something we understand—who doesn’t look at the world and hope to be a part of repairing its brokenness?

But, the coming alive in Christ part is altogether something different. It’s not something we do, it’s something that is done to us. And, if honest, most of us often wonder—do we really need it? Do we really need to come alive in Christ?

Sure, we have some bruises that need healing, some rough edges that might need sanding off, but aren’t we already alive? Aren’t we all good? Mostly?

No. Not at all. The ground at the cross—as the Saints say—is level. Meaning, that which we clearly see that others need, is exactly what we need ourselves. New hearts. New starts. New life—to come alive, again and again.

But hear the good news, Church—this isn’t a test or a challenge or a trap. Coming alive in Christ is a gift. I hope you’ll listen in to this message that unpacks more of why that gifts is the most important thing of all.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

It is time to recommit ourselves to what is unchanging—our mission. Here at The Grove, that mission is: Inviting All to Serve & Come Alive in Christ. Last week, we did a deep dive into the first part: Inviting All. And, afterwards, a lot of you reached out to say, “Okay, I’m in but…H-O-W?”

So glad you asked. Because, the answer is right there in the second part of our mission. Serve.

We invite people in by doing what we do—serving. We aren’t here to judge or to fix or to use, we are here to serve. Serving is the currency of the holy, beautiful wholly new Kingdom of God that Jesus is inaugurating in us. And because we are ridiculously in charge of how we live together at The Grove, we’re doing it Jesus’ way—the servant way.

Want to hear the best part? Turns out, serving is a party.

I hope you’ll listen in to this message as we discover how serving leads to celebration—celebrations full of abundance, joy, fullness, and life.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

January at The Grove is a time for remembering who God has called us to be and recommitting ourselves to our mission: Inviting All to Serve and Come Alive in Christ. This week, I’ve been studying and praying about the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman in preparation for a message on what it looks like to be a community that invites all to belong.

And then Wednesday happened—insurrection at the United States Capitol Building.  And, like everyone else, I was glued to my screens watching the events unfold. Like everyone else, I was trying to understand what was happening—trying to process, trying to hold space for the pain and fear and rage of those around me, trying to pray, trying to hold steady to Jesus, trying to trust and yield to what the Spirit is doing here and now with this brokenness.

It seemed like tone-deaf myopic foolishness to move forward with the worship service we planned. How can we recommit to inviting all with images of riots and armed insurrection on our screens?

But if not now, when?

If we are divided from our mission and one another in life-and-death moments of crisis like this, we never had holy purpose or vision. If our only unity lies in swallowing our pain and looking away and finding shallow common ground, then what we are doing here isn’t real and isn’t of God.

So, yes, this week—especially this week—we will speak of inviting all as we explore the passage where Jesus met a Samaritan woman at a holy well. Jesus and the Samaritan Woman were two strangers from two warring ethnicities, born into a multi-generational cycle of enmity. Their foundational myths and sacred stories demonized one another and, yet, Jesus offered her living water. He invited her to leave her current worldview behind and to step into a radically new story. It was the same invitation he made to every person he met. The only difference—she was one of the few who accepted this invitation.

So, maybe we can all start there.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

This Sunday, we gather for the first time in this new year to celebrate Epiphany. I am as eager as anyone to leave 2020 behind. But, I wonder if the Epiphany story of the mysterious, foreign strangers might challenge us to think differently about the year we’ve had.

The Magi—we don’t exactly know who they were, we only know they weren’t kings and they weren’t Jewish. They followed stars, not the God of Abraham, Issac and Jacob. They appear to practice divination and other spiritual rituals that we might label occult and that our scriptures label cursed. And, yet, God was present and active in their lives and caused a star to shine forth—a star that led them to worship the savior of the world.

Our God is omnipresent—always present, always near. God is especially present in the places and situations when we expect or feel his absence. God’s grace is sufficient even when we are certain sin and brokenness is just too much. As we look back on a year drenched in loss and pain and sin, we must be a people who seek stars—a people who search the seemingly overwhelming darkness for the steady, brilliant light of God’s presence. And, we must be a people who follow that light.

This last year can’t be undone. The losses and wounds are real. But, so are the stars and so are the gifts. Listen in as we uncover them as together.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

This week includes a day for rejoicing—because the Lord has come to live with and for us! This is a day for rejoicing, because God has kept all his promises!

This is a day for rejoicing, because the one born in weakness is strong to save us. And we need saving. This beautiful, broken world cries out for a savior and—good news—Jesus wasn’t just born for those with joyful hearts and vibrant faith. 

The coming of Christ is especially for you if your heart is broken this Christmas, if your life has been shattered by violence or injustice.  

This Sunday, we’ll ponder this part of the Christmas story that we usually skip. I promise, it’s not because I want to steal your joy. It’s because there is no part of our reality that the miracle of incarnation doesn’t redeem.

This tragedy belongs in the Christmas story because tragedy is a part of reality on this side of eternity, and we who trust Jesus don’t have to pretend otherwise. 

I hope you will listen in to this hard but really necessary message, because Christmas is only beginning and it’s better than we’ve dared to imagine.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

Tucked away in the very middle of the book of Psalms, you’ll find my very favorite verse of scripture. Psalm 85 describes what it will be like when God’s salvation reigns on the new earth. The tenth verse says that in those days, ‘”love and justice meet together, righteousness and peace kiss each other.”

Sometimes it feels like we have to choose, doesn’t it? Between peace and righteousness, between love and justice. But that is only because we’ve become accustomed to watered-down, inauthentic versions—peace-keeping instead of peace-making, vengeance instead of justice, comfort instead of love, self-righteousness instead of God’s righteousness. In the Kingdom of God, love, justice, righteousness, and peace need no reconciliation.

And the dawn of salvation, of course, is the story we are so eagerly anticipating in this season—the birth of Christ. The coming of our savior is a story of mercy, of forgiveness, of love, and of righteousness. And, it is also, always, a story of justice. That’s why when Mary is ready to rejoice, she sings a song of the coming of holy justice. Her magnificat  celebrates that with the birth of her son, God is establishing a kingdom where righteousness and peace kiss—where all are fed, all are healed, all are reconciled in God’s great love.

One of the things Mary knew is that God’s love looks like justice and God’s justice feels like love. I hope you will listen in to this message as we let Mary teach us the true meaning of Christmas.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

Years ago, on the third Sunday of Advent when we lit the joy candle, I had a terrible experience leading worship. I was newly ordained and it was one of the first times I served communion. When I went to break the loaf of bread, I discovered one of the elders had unintentionally bought a thickly buttered loaf of garlic bread.

Instantly, this sacred moment that I had anticipated for years turned into an embarrassing disaster. The people in the congregation understood, some even found it humorous. But, for me, it was anything but joyful.

All these years later, though, it’s become a defining moment of my ministry, and an experience that I treasure. That loaf of garlic bread helped me to learn that what we do on Sunday mornings isn’t a performance. It doesn’t have to be perfect to be real. Our unavoidable human failures can never empty God’s sacred gifts of their power. All these years later, this story does bring me joy.

Friends, the truth is that no matter how many years pass, much of the very real suffering and loss of this pandemic will never bring us joy. And, there is no real comparison to my story of garlic bread and what we are all enduring now. But, still I wonder—will some of the things that most challenge and disturb us now come to be memories we’ll someday treasure? Will some of the pain we feel now birth a wisdom and maturity that we might come to rejoice over in time?

Maybe this is the year we receive sacred joy—a defiant joy that springs up, even as we grieve and are afraid. Maybe this is the year we find the joy that Mary found when she discovered the astonishing truth that God was with her and that no word of God would ever fail.

I hope, especially if you are overwhelmed and angry and mourning and scared, that you’ll listen in to this message about joy. Even on your own you can light a candle for joy—together, we’ll discover that what God is doing is greater and stronger than anything that threatens us in these hard days.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS

This Sunday we light the candle of peace and rejoice that our savior is the Prince of Peace. But like everything else about Jesus, this peace doesn’t look the way we expect it to look. Jesus’ approach to peace is gloriously different than our own.

When we start thinking about peace, it doesn’t take long before we are cursing our enemies. After all, our peacelessness is their fault. If only the world were full of people like us, we would already have peace. We wouldn’t even need a savior.

The world, of course, is filled with people exactly like us, and so we desperately need a savior. 

And the glory of God comes down to show us a new way to peace, one that doesn’t require the participation or destruction of our enemies. It’s the path that John the baptist blazed through the wild spaces, far from the temple in Jerusalem—the word that drew all those seeking for more out into the desert. That word, that path, is repentance.

We hope you’ll listen in as we discover how the prophet’s call to our ancestors is for us as well. The way to peace still begins with repentance. This is the road that leads to new life in Christ.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Subscribe: RSS