
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


This is a special musical performance of Entertain the Angels by the chancel choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
As we have seen yet again in another horrific mass shooting, we as a people need to have a confrontation with self – confront our malevolent viewpoints and malignant ideologies. We need to confront the sin of white supremacy, racism, and hatred, and move into a new place, live into a new story, a new understanding of God’s love for this world. When talking about such confrontation, Richard Rohr writes:
Every viewpoint is a view from a point. Unless we recognize and admit our own personal and cultural viewpoints, we will never know how to decentralize our own perspective. We will live with a high degree of illusion and blindness that brings much suffering into the world. [As we work to recognize this,] the love of God is the source of all truth. Only an outer and positive reference point utterly grounds the mind and heart. People with a distorted image of self, world, or God will be largely incapable of experiencing what is really real in the world. They will see things through a narrow keyhole. They’ll see instead what they need reality to be, what they’re afraid it is, or what they’re angry about. They’ll see everything through their aggressiveness, their fear, or their agenda. In other words, they won’t see it at all.
Rohr aptly describes not only our present context, but also the early church as it was called to move beyond certain boundaries, beyond personal, cultural, and traditional religious viewpoints, and learn to love beyond those boundaries and narrow understandings. Today’s readings communicate this as we continue to learn what it means to be inclusive and love others beyond boundaries of cultic religious traditions and ideologies. They teach us what it means to truly be the body of Christ in this world.
In today’s first reading from Acts, we come face to face with a confrontation of cultic religious thought. The Jewish people considered all Gentiles unclean and thought the idea of sharing an intimate dinner around a kitchen table in a pagan home was off bounds. Peter had struggled with this and then one afternoon, while praying, he had a vision. He saw a sheet filled with animals repulsive to any Jew – reptiles and pigs for instance. And God said, “Peter, fire up the grill and eat.” Peter responded, “No way, Lord, for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.” But the Lord said, “What God makes clean you must not call profane.” Then, at that very moment three men asked Peter to come with them to the Roman centurion Cornelius’s house. And the Spirit spoke to Peter telling him not to make a distinction between them and us. So, Peter went to see Cornelius, accepted his hospitality, started to preach about the crucified Messiah who is Lord, and suddenly the Spirit descended on Cornelius just as the Spirit had on the disciples on the Day of Pentecost.
Peter’s vision had moved him beyond traditional Jewish religious boundaries. Then, when his fellow Jewish believers demand an explanation for his actions, Peter points to God. Peter says, “If then God gave them [the Gentiles] the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?”
God made it crystal clear that Jesus’ community on earth is to reflect the fact that, in Jesus, the dividing wall between peoples, nations, classes, races, and genders has been torn down! The church is to invite all people to share this life in Christ. God invites everyone so God can transform everyone with healing love. The community of believers is called to be a community of inclusive, sacrificial love.
Today’s gospel reading is also about inclusive, sacrificial love. Jesus is about to die, and he speaks these words to his disciples: “Love one another. I give you a new commandment: Love one another.” Now, most of us have always heard these words as a form of the Golden Rule. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Words to live by. Right? Frankly, these are words Jesus, a Jewish man, would have been very familiar with. In fact, these are words Jews, Muslims and indeed people of all sorts of faith traditions hold as sacred. “Love your neighbor as you love yourself. Do onto others as you would have them do unto you and love your neighbor as you love yourself.” However, the words of the Golden Rule are not the words that appear here in the Gospel according to John. In today’s reading, Jesus adds a new twist when he says, “I give you a new commandment: Love one another, just as I have loved you.” Now, that’s some twist: “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”
Harder words were never spoken. These words Jesus shares with us are not a suggestion. They are a command, to love all others as he loves. And, quite frankly, who among us can love as Jesus loved? Jesus’ idea of loving is hard-edged, it is infinitely tender, and it is nearly impossible. These words haunt me. When I think about loving as Jesus loves, I begin to second-guess my ability to love. Love is not simple. This kind of love is not easy.
Today, the words Jesus speaks to his disciples are some of the last words he shares with them and us as he gives us a command to love as he loves. He says if you are my disciples you will stand in a different place, stand in a different state of being, stand in a different energy. He says, you will stand in the place of love for all others, because you are to love as I love. You will do this because God is love.
When talking about this passage, Father Richard Rohr says that love is not what as much as how! If you do not live love for all others, God is simply an abstraction in your life. If you do not live love for all others, God is simply a theory in your mind. Living the love that Jesus showed and lived is what brings healing and wholeness to our lives, our communities, our society and our world. The command to love as Jesus loves is clear and simple. We are to love all people, no exceptions. This kind of love is not easy, and you cannot depend on feelings if you are going to love as Jesus loves. Like forgiveness – love is a decision of your mind and heart. Love is a choice. When you are not living this kind of love, not living in love for all people, you will use any excuse to be unhappy, angry, and hateful. Quite honestly, such negative feelings, actions, behaviors, attitudes and attributes cannot coexist in the mind and heart of someone who has made the decision to love as Jesus loves. They cannot coexist because living in the love of Jesus means you are standing in a different space, a different state, a different energy, a different reality. It means you are consciously aware that you are living in the reality and presence of the loving, living Lord Jesus Christ.
Today, as Jesus gives this command to love even as he loves we must look at what his love looks like. His is a love that surrenders itself to God’s holy dream to love all people, this entire world, to love and care for all of creation, to love the entire cosmos. His love surrenders itself to God’s holy dream to love the world into life, even to the point of giving his own life. Jesus’ love glorifies God’s purpose and mercy, and this is the love he commands us to live.
So, what does this love look like in our very lives? I love the way Brian McClaren talks about love in his book, Corey & the Seventh Story. He writes that we, as people, seem to continually live the same six old stories over and over again, the same old six stories that seem to be running the show. Those six stories are:
The story of power to dominate,
The story of striking back with fury and hate,
The story of running to find a safe place,
Or pointing at others to shame and disgrace,
Or being stuck in self-pity for the pain we’ve been through,
Or of me having more shiny objects than you.
These same six old stories steal freedom and laughter,
So, nobody lives happily ever after. But….
There’s a new Seventh Story to live by, my friends,
A new Seventh Story without “us against them”—
Of working for fairness in all that we do,
Of refusing to strike back when others strike you,
Of facing our problems and not running to hide,
Of not letting differences make us divide,
Of turning our pain into compassion for others,
Of not wanting more than our sisters and brothers.
The new Seventh Story that I’m speaking of
Is the story of peace, it’s the story of love.
Jesus spoke to those early disciples, and he speaks to each one of us saying, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” That is our new story. May we live in the reality of such love!
This is a special musical performance of The King of Love My Shepherd Is, a duet by Tammy Heilman and Ryan Thomson at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos, Michigan.
“What for?” asked Kreisler.
The policemen responded, “You have Fritz Kreisler’s violin.”
Kreisler said, “I am Fritz Kreisler.”
The cop said, “You can’t pull that on us. Come along to the station.” As Kreisler’s boat was soon to sail, he faced a crisis. His identity was being questioned and there was no time for prolonged explanations. Kreisler asked for his violin and played a piece for which he was well known. “Now are you satisfied?” he asked. They were. Kreisler’s identity was revealed through his action and the playing he exhibited. His actions spoke louder than any words he could have uttered regarding his identity.
In today’s reading from John’s gospel, we are plunged into a crisis – an identity crisis. In today’s gospel reading Jesus’ identity is again being questioned by the religious leaders. It is the middle of winter and the festival of Dedication, a festival now known as Hanukkah. Jesus is walking in the Temple, in the portico of Solomon – the place from which the king would render judgments upon those seeking justice. And, it is in that place where Jesus again responds to questions about his identity. The religious leaders who wish to discredit Jesus taunt him and demand to know just who he thinks he is. They say, “Hey, Jesus, stop keeping us in the dark. If you’re the Messiah, just tell us straight out. Just who are you, Jesus? What are you up to and how long are you going to annoy us?”
Now, in John’s gospel, Jesus’ identity has been revealed from the very beginning and, throughout the gospel, Jesus has been revealing himself as God’s light in the world. He has been healing people, opening the eyes of the blind and giving the people around him numerous, multiple insights into his identity. He has been demonstrating and revealing who he is through the entirety of his ministry. So, he now responds by saying, “I told you, but you don’t believe. Everything I have done has been authorized by my Father, actions that speak louder than words. You don’t believe because you are not my sheep. You don’t recognize the voice of the shepherd among you.”
Jesus uses the metaphor of sheep and shepherd, a metaphor very familiar to people of that time and place, one that is threaded throughout scripture and helps more fully articulate his identity. However, we are not always able to fully grasp an understanding of this metaphor. It really is quite foreign to our context and experience. At the time of Jesus, all the sheep of the village – the entire village – were kept in one place, one fenced in field. And, when it was time for each of the owners to take their sheep back home, each shepherd would call his own sheep by using a unique, special call. When the sheep heard that unique call, they recognized the voice and they would leave the fenced in field to follow their shepherd home.
So, in today’s reading, Jesus frames his identity and role in terms of being the good shepherd. He frames his identity as the trusted voice to whom the sheep will listen and follow. He frames his identity as the good shepherd by claiming those sheep the Father has given him as his very own. And, he makes a promise. He says no one will snatch his sheep out of the Father’s hand. He boldly articulates his identity when he claims that everything he has done has been authorized by the Father. And, he then makes this remarkable claim; he announces that he and the Father are one – he and the father are of the same mind. Jesus is saying that he and God are united in the work they do. He is saying it is impossible to distinguish his work from God’s work, because he shares fully in God’s work.
This reading is so meaningful for all of us as we live our daily lives. There are times in life when we experience great joy, and there are times when we experience enormous challenge and sorrow. Life encompasses a mix of all kinds of experiences. But, as we make this journey through all that life brings, Jesus’ words to us today are steadfast words of promise. Jesus is speaking to each one of us. Jesus, the good shepherd, promises us stubborn protection and care. His is a voice the flock hears and knows and follows. And, his voice is especially precious in the mixedness of all that life brings. We cling to that voice. We cling to the promise that, even though life itself may be snatched away, no one will be snatched from the Father’s hand and not one person will be snatched from God’s immense love. We cling to the promise that we do not go on in vain, that the Good Shepherd walks with us, guiding us and protecting us in the depth of everything life lays before us. We listen and cling to the voice of our Shepherd, the voice that empowers and equips us with something greater than all else, the power of love – forgiving, transforming love. This is the power that raises up, this is the power that enabled Peter to raise up Dorcas, this is the power that has infused this congregation and is raising us up as we move out of a pandemic, as we again boldly gather as God’s people in this place, as we live into the ministry of the body of Christ in this place. This is the power of the risen Christ! This is the power that will always raise us up throughout our lives as we face all the challenges and joy and sorrow and grief, all the mixedness of life that we encounter. This is the power that gives us our true identity.
The late theologian, Fred Craddock, once told a story of and encounter he had when he and his wife were on vacation. Craddock said:
They were seated at a table in a restaurant in the Smokey Mountains. An elderly gentleman engaged them in conversation and when he found out Fred was a minister, he pulled up a seat, and said “I have to tell you a story.” Little did Fred know at the time that the man who pulled up a seat was a former two-time governor of Tennessee, Ben Hooper.
Hooper told him, “I owe a great deal to a minister of the Christian church. I grew up in these mountains. My mother was not married and the whole community knew it. In those days that brought shame. The reproach that fell on my mother, fell also on me. When I went into town with her, I could see people staring at me, making guesses as to who my father was. At school the children said ugly things to me, and so I stayed to myself during recess, and I ate my lunch alone. In my early teens I began to attend a little church back in the mountains called Laurel Springs Christian Church. They had a minister who was both attractive and frightening. He had a chiseled face, a heavy beard, and a deep voice. I went just to hear him preach. I don’t know exactly why, but it did something for me. However, I was afraid that I was not welcome since I was, as they put it, a bastard. So, I would arrive just in time for the sermon, and when it was over, I would get out of there quick because I was afraid someone would say, ‘What’s a boy like you doing in church?’
One Sunday some people lined up the aisle before I could get out. Before I could make my way through the group, I felt a hand on my shoulder, a heavy hand. I could see out the corner of my eye his beard and his chin, and knew it was the minister. I trembled in fear. He turned his face around so he could see mine and he seemed to stare at me for a while. I knew what he was doing. I knew that he was going to make a guess as to who my father was. A moment later he said, ‘Well, boy, you’re a child of . . .’ and he paused. And I knew what was coming. I knew I would have my feelings hurt. I knew I would not go back again. He said, ‘Boy, you’re a child of God. I see a striking resemblance.’ Then he swatted me on the backside and said, ‘Now, you go claim your inheritance.’” Then the former governor of Tennessee told Fred, “I left the building a different person. In fact, that was really the beginning of my life.”
“You are a child of God. I see a striking resemblance.” That’s who you are. That’s who I am. We are children of God. Jesus, the good shepherd, has raised us to new life and given each one of us a priceless identity – naming us and claiming us as God’s very own. Go claim your inheritance and live into that identity.
This is a special musical performance of Run, Mary Run by the Faith Lutheran Chancel Choir.
As we look at our gospel reading this morning, I think the disciples have been on an exhausting, emotional rollercoaster, one much more intense and traumatic than the one I experienced, and they are now experiencing emotional overload. First, there had been that tension-filled yet joyous entry into Jerusalem which was followed by a Passover meal unlike any other. Then, there was that intense experience of Jesus’ betrayal and arrest. They had witnessed jeering mobs as Jesus was given a mock trial, beaten, and ultimately sentenced to death by bloody, torturous crucifixion. This left them emotionally crushed, numb, and afraid. They had been so afraid by this turn of events they fled, deserting Jesus in his last hours. And, before they had time to process what had happened, they experienced emotional overload of another sort with the news of the empty tomb and the various resurrection appearances which had to be seen to even be believed. The past few weeks had truly been confusing and overwhelming as they experienced emotional extremes from the deepest, darkest grief to the most unexpected, ecstatic joy. It is probably an understatement to say they were experiencing emotional overload.
In the aftermath of all that has happened, the disciples needed some time to process all they have experienced and think about what they would now do. So, they returned to Galilee. They go back home to find a new sense of normal while trying to assimilate all that has happened. They go back to what they know, attempting to escape to what is familiar to them, to what had been routine and ordinary, to what had been a way of life before Jesus took them on a disruptive three-year excursion. When back home, impetuous, reactive, Peter announces he is going fishing. And, following his lead, several of the other disciples tag along.
After the extreme, earth-shattering experiences of the past weeks, Peter and the others board a fishing boat and go back to handling those heavy nets throughout the cold night. Now, it is important to remember that Peter is the one who had denied Jesus three times. He had failed Jesus, and fear had led him to distance himself from Jesus. We are left to imagine his disappointment with himself and the feelings of guilt and shame he was most likely experiencing. And now, as he attempts to go back to what his life used to be like, his efforts are fruitless. After a night of fishing, the disciples are not able to catch any fish. In addition to having failed Jesus, Peter is confronted with failing at something he has done all his life, something that had been his vocation.
As they begin to catch the first glimmers of dawn break into the dark of night, the disciples see a man on the shore standing by a small charcoal fire. This stranger calls out to them suggesting something very odd saying, “Cast your nets on the other side of the boat.” The disciples comply and suddenly their net is full and overflowing with fish! Well, when one of the disciples recognizes this stranger as the Lord, impetuous, reactive Peter jumps out of the boat and clambers toward shore. The disciples discover that it is in fact Jesus who stands there and invites them to enjoy breakfast on the beach.
After gathering around the charcoal fire and finishing their breakfast of bread and grilled fish, Jesus begins grilling Peter. Speaking directly to this guilt plagued disciple, Jesus lovingly and graciously asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” Jesus asks him this question three times and, undoubtedly, Peter remembers standing around another charcoal fire where he had denied Jesus three times. When Jesus asks him for the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter seems almost irritated by Jesus’ persistence. But, in his persistence, Jesus shows he will not disown Peter or let him go. The betrayed one bestows overwhelming grace on the betrayer. And, as theologian William Loader suggests, “Almost irritated by divine grace, Peter opens himself to life and leadership. Peter will feed the sheep. Peter will follow Jesus, as he said.” With these three affirmations of love, the trajectory of Peter’s life is forever changed as Jesus now tells Peter what to do with that love – feed his lambs, tend his sheep, and feed his flock.
In this experience, Peter and the other disciples discover that going back to their former life and trade is not an escape. The ordinary and the routine will no longer be ordinary and routine. The disciples discover that there is absolutely no place where they can go or where they can escape the forgiveness and love of this one who has changed them forever. So, whether we are on emotional overload or not, what does this story mean for us and how does the resurrection change our lives right here and right now? There are as many responses to Easter today as there were two thousand years ago. Some flee from the good news and consider it an “idle tale.” Some go out and share the good news. Some return to their homes as did the disciples. But, going home to hide from Jesus is NOT an option for us any more than it was for Peter and the disciples. The implications of this Easter news are deep. We are completely loved. We are completely forgiven. When fear or guilt or shame hold us back, love is always going to call us forward. We are a people who have been Eastered, and we no longer need to make choices out of fear. We can now move away and break free from the fear that binds us and make choices that are rooted in love for others, even love for those we consider different from us.
Yes, the good news is that we have been Eastered! And, we are called not only to proclaim God’s love, a love we have seen and known in Jesus, but to also act on it by feeding and tending God’s sheep, all of the others in our lives. That means setting aside the way fear binds us up into small lives and small ways of living. That means embracing love as the basis of every action we undertake. In the resurrection, God’s love has been set loose in this world and that love is transforming the world through this broken body of Christ to which we belong and of which we are a part. Just as Jesus confronted Peter in the depth of his despair and guilt and, as we heard in our first reading, just as Jesus also confronted Paul who was angrily breathing threats of murder fed by misguided zeal, Jesus confronts us in the depth of all that is not life giving but life taking. And, that confrontation always comes to us as grace and love, changing our perspective, giving us new eyes to see, and NEVER leaving us where we have been or even where we are, but drawing us forward into life and love itself.
Paige, Kaden, and Austin, Jesus is speaking to you today. As I have said over and over to you, the most important thing I hope you will always remember is that God loves you and God showers you with grace and God will never ever let you go, no matter what you do and what happens to you in life. In the face of such overwhelming love, our response really is all about sharing that love with others. And, as you are about to make affirmation of your baptism, God is speaking to you and asking, “Paige, Kaden, and Austin, do you love me? Then, feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep.” Quite frankly, God is asking each one of us gathered here this morning, “Do you love me? Then, feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep. Share my love and grace with others and live out that love and grace in relationship to all people as you work for justice, peace, and healing in this world.” We live in the morning light of the resurrection and there is no room for guilt or fear. We are forgiven, loved and freed. And, yes, we have some work to do. We have some sheep to feed.
Dr. Rev. Jim Antal provides the sermon to Faith Lutheran Church in Okamos, Michigan on April 24, 2022.
This is a special musical performance of Rain Down by the Chancel Choir at Faith Lutheran Church in Okemos Michigan.
This is a special musical performance of Gaelic Alleluia by the chancel choir at Faith Lutheran church in Okemos, Michigan.
John 20:1-18
There is so much chaos in today's scripture passage.
We don't like chaos.
We like our scripture to be neat, straightforward and tidy
Just how we like our schedules and our plans for the next great thing
Just how we like ourselves, smart and on top of things
Just how we like God, predictable and in control /
But on this Easter morning, in the story of Jesus' resurrection
Our likes are challenged as we're thrown into chaos and unknowing
We zoom in on Mary Magdalene and enter the messiness of her reality
Friday she witnessed the horror of the crucifixion of her friend, her teacher
Her beloved
He was cruelly crucified and discarded
Saturday she honored the Sabbath as best she could
Perhaps out of a chaotic mixture of obligation, fear, devotion and desperation
And this morning, while it is still dark, she leaves her home for Jesus' tomb.
Mary Magdalene, from whom seven demons Jesus cast out
Mary Magdalene, Jesus closest companion
Mary Magdalene, who's been up all night with blood-shot eyes and tear-soaked bed sheets
She's like us, wanting to create order in the midst of chaos
She’s like us, preferring to control situations
She has been waiting to DO something about this mess
So, she plows through her grief-laden, exhausted, and fearful fog
And goes to the tomb
Alone
In the dark
An act of resistance with great risk,
To anoint Jesus' body. / /
When she arrives she sees that things aren't as she expected
The stone is rolled away
So she runs to get some others - and they run to see... out-running each other
All this running adds to the chaos of this early Sunday morning
They run full-out and find the tomb empty
With the burial cloths left behind
We glimpse the perspective of "the other disciple" - who wasn't even named here
He had faith, he believed - and went back home with Peter
His perspective would offer a much neater and tidier ending
The other disciple demonstrates the predictability we prefer
But the story plunges us back into chaos
with the perspective of Mary Magdalene
Who stayed \ \ and wept
She didn't find faith in the empty tomb - she only found tears
When I think about Mary Magdalene, I wonder about the seven demons that Jesus cast out of her.
I wonder if they were like the demons we struggle with today?
The demons that hang out inside our minds and our culture
Demons like unworthiness,
Maybe shame
Fear
Maybe a bit of self-justification,
Control
Or the longing for power \ \
I wonder if these demons were gone forever
Or if maybe, like with us, they crept back into Mary's mind when she was not at her best
I wonder if Mary believed that she was healed
Or if she gave all the credit to her incredible teacher and friend, Jesus
As she clung to him.
She followed him around, learning all she could, hanging onto his every word
Because he made her better
I wonder about these demons because we all struggle with demons
And, like faith, healing isn't straightforward, neat or tidy
So this morning we zoom in on Mary Magdalene in the midst of this chaos and she seems stuck / / entombed
Entombed in her disbelief
Entombed in her grief
Entombed in her hopelessness
Entombed in the old, well-worn paths of those seven demons
It doesn't seem like she believed that Jesus is God,
Who conquers all things, including death
As she sat and wept / /
She knew Jesus best,
She was one of his closest companions
And yet here she sits, crying and entombed in her old thinking / /
The chaos continues as Mary turns around and sees a man,
maybe the gardener
She doesn't recognize him
He asks her - why are you crying? Who are you looking for?
Then Mary challenges him,
In spite of her tear soaked cheeks she finds a bit of courage and says
"Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away."
Mary wants Jesus back.
Mary is willing to do whatever it takes to be near him, to touch him one more time
To cling to him
This situation is so chaotic and she's grasping for anything to regain some control
With Jesus things weren't so chaotic
With Jesus her demons couldn't take up much space inside her head
With Jesus it seemed she was on top of things
With Jesus Mary didn't have to believe because the schedule was packed and they were on to the next great thing
"Mary!"
He calls her name
"Mary!"
She turns and says "Teacher!"
You can imagine the mixture of emotions in her voice
It's him!
The chaos continues to swirl in this moment twisting tears, grief, joy, laughter, confusion and recognition into this single word
Teacher!
Mary longs to hold onto Jesus… yet
Jesus tells her "Do not hold on to me...but go"
But go
Jesus knows the society and culture Mary lives in, with its domination and oppression
Jesus knows the risk he’s asking Mary to take, as a woman
Jesus knows Mary’s past and present, all the things that hold her back
And he tells her to Go
Her healing is not about the person of Jesus whose every word she clung to and every act she observed
It's about the One to whom Jesus pointed
It's about the One Jesus reflected
It's about the One Jesus embodied
It's about God, Jesus the Christ, the Holy Spirit within which all things are possible
And in this moment, I think Mary Magdalene was truly healed of her seven demons
Because before she didn't believe she was whole
She gave all that credit to her amazing teacher, Jesus
But now Jesus tells her not to cling to him
/ / Friends, we are Mary / /
We become entombed in our old thinking
We cling to ideas and people - things we think make us better
Things like power and control
Things like dependence and the limitations of the way things are
Our demons continue to race around inside our minds
As we hurry on to the next great thing
Today, we are Mary
We doubt that God heals us
We doubt that God frees us and raises US
We doubt that God calls us
We doubt that God sends us \ \
On this Easter morning God is calling us into wholeness
God's love and grace and fullness are all ready with us,
all ready given to us, God has conquered our demons so they no longer define who we are
This is what it means to be Christian
The embodied church in the world
Easter people! \ \
So what are you clinging to?
It’s time to let go
This morning God is sending you out, in all of your beloved wholeness
"But go!" / /
Today Mary Magdalene believed
And she went, and risked and she proclaimed
In freedom, wholeness and authority given to her by God
She became the disciple to the disciples
"I have seen the Lord"
Happy Easter
From the publisher's feed