a sermon from Fr. Nathan

When everything runs out—strength, strategy, even hope—what does God do? On Easter Day, we find ourselves with Israel at the edge of the sea and with humanity at the edge of death. In both moments, God acts where we cannot. The resurrection is not a reward for effort, but God’s decisive intervention when we have nothing left. If you’re exhausted from trying to fix yourself, outrun death, or manufacture meaning, this is the announcement: God has made a way—and it’s one you can only receive, not achieve.

A Sermon from Dcn Steward

On Maundy Thursday, we hear Jesus’ command: “Love one another as I have loved you.” But what does that love actually look like? Tracing the story from the Exodus to the Last Supper, we explore the meaning of covenant, the power of the Passover, and the shocking humility of Christ—who not only gives his body and blood for us, but kneels to wash our feet. In a world obsessed with worthiness and self-justification, Jesus offers a different way: receive his love first, then become people who embody it. This is an invitation to step under the covering of Christ, to be cleansed by him, and to become servants who carry his love into the world.

a sermon from Fr. Nathan

We begin with this celebration of Jesus entering Jerusalem, and not long after he finds himself on trial by the authorities. And the reality is that we too would have a tendency to desert God when he is not moving forward how we would like.

Jesus is coming in and being hailed as a king. People wanted him to restore Jerusalem’s former glory—wanted him to make Jerusalem great again—by crushing his enemies with overwhelming force. They expected a war horse, but he comes on a donkey, a farmer’s animal. God has always been revealing that the leaders of his people are servants, not conquerors in the way we usually think. And so we have to come to grips with the fact that when Jesus comes to do his work, he chooses the way of suffering—and our prayer is that we would walk in that way.

a sermon from Fr. Nathan

In Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones, Israel appears utterly cut off—no hope, no life. And we ask the same question: can these bones live? Ezekiel answers with trust: “Lord, you know.” Through the prophetic word—truth about God, ourselves, and his work—the Spirit brings life. We are dead in sin, yet loved and raised by God. In Christ, this is fulfilled: he conquers death and pours out his Spirit. So we confess, forgive, and proclaim: dry bones live again.

a sermon from Fr. Nathan

We all know what it’s like to need corrective lenses, because when we can’t see clearly we hurt ourselves and the people around us.

The Scriptures show us that something similar is true of the heart: apart from Christ we are spiritually blind, shaped by our assumptions, our pride, and our cultural habits.

In the Gospel today Jesus becomes the corrective lens, opening the eyes of a man born blind and revealing that God’s mercy is at work where people least expect it.

Through his death and resurrection Christ forgives our sin and opens the eyes of our hearts so that we can finally see God, ourselves, and the world truthfully. When we begin to walk as children of the light, we receive Christ’s love and reflect it into a world that desperately needs it.

a sermon from Fr. Nathan

We wake up wanting—coffee, food, approval, security—and that desire reminds us that we are contingent and dependent creatures who need God; the problem isn’t that we desire, but that our desires become disordered when we look to anything other than God to fulfill them.

Jesus meets a Samaritan woman living in the tangled consequences of that broken world and tells her that if she knew the gift of God she would ask him for living water—the fulfillment of all our deepest desires in God through Christ by the Spirit.

At the cross the world strikes Christ like the rock in the wilderness and from his side flow blood and water—forgiveness and life—and now the living water of the Spirit is poured out so that our hearts can finally be reordered around the beauty of God.

When we taste and see that the Lord is good, our restless hearts find rest in Christ and, like the woman at the well, we cannot help but run and tell others, “Come and see the Savior of the world.”

a sermon from Bishop Dan

Biblical faith is not certainty, not a mapped-out plan with charts and timetables, and not the absence of inward shaking; it is trust in the One who calls when the wind begins to blow.

Abraham did not receive a mission statement or a budget—he stepped into the wind without knowing the destination, and that stepping is what Scripture remembers as faith.

If we would walk with God and not merely speak about him, we must keep our ears open for that wind and dare to follow where he says, “to a land I will show you.”

a sermon from Fr. Nathan

True rest requires trust that you are going to be okay, and when trust breaks down, rest breaks down—as it did in the garden, in the wilderness with Israel, and in our own lives.

Jesus enters the wilderness as the true Adam and true Israel, facing the deeper temptations beneath all our particular sins: to provide for himself, to secure love by assertion, and to grasp for power apart from the Father’s will.

Yet he rests in the word spoken over him at his baptism—“beloved Son”—and by trusting that word all the way to the cross, he undoes Adam’s disobedience and overcomes sin and death.

Now, in our own wilderness moments, we are invited to remember our baptism, trust his provision, and rest in Christ as we are led toward the garden of eternal life.

a sermon from Fr. Nathan

Repentance is a continual turning toward the God who is actively forming us into His righteousness, shaping our hearts to reflect His own. Through Christ—who became sin for us—our frailty, failure, and mortality are met with a transforming grace that calls us to live as people reconciled and remade. This life of righteousness unfolds as we confess, repent, and open our hearts to God’s recreating work, allowing His light to overcome the patterns of sin that lead us toward death. Lent invites us to walk this path of joyful obedience, receiving God’s mercy so we may grow into the people He has called us to be—His righteousness in the world.

a sermon from Bishop Ken

When we understand that we are in Christ, we begin to hear the Father’s words at the Transfiguration—“This is my beloved Son, in whom I delight”—as words spoken over us as well, so that we live not to earn God’s favor but from the favor already given. If we miss this, repentance turns into an anxious effort to move from rejection to acceptance, rather than a joyful return to the One who already calls us beloved. Paul longed for deeper intimacy with Jesus because he knew that knowing Christ is worth losing everything else, and that this communion is the heart of the Christian life. Entering Lent with that assurance frees us to repent without self-loathing, to loosen our grip on lesser loves, and to run after Christ in the confidence that we are already delighted in as children of God.