Sterling Severns Worship

Homily: When the Door Doesn’t Budge

What do you do when the door won’t open—when you’ve prayed, pushed, and persisted, only to find yourself still stuck? This week, Pastor Sterling Severns reflects on Luke 11:1–13, where Jesus responds to his disciples’ request: “Teach us to pray.” With insight from theologian Robert Farrar Capon, this homily explores prayer not as a formula for success but as a deep practice of surrender and connection.

Sterling walks us through the mystery of persistence in prayer—not to wear God down, but to wear down our own illusions of control. Sometimes the door doesn’t open right away. Sometimes it’s not the door that moves, but us. And sometimes, in the weariness and surrender, we discover that God has been with us all along, even before the door creaked open.

Whether you’re questioning, clinging, or simply tired, this episode offers a spacious, compassionate reminder: prayer doesn’t always change the circumstances, but it opens us to the God who is unshakably present in the midst of them.

Homily Transcript

July 13, 2025 Luke 11:1–13 Rev. Sterling Severns, Pastor

The disciples of Jesus have been following him for a while now. They notice that there’s something different about him beyond just his ability to perform miracles and the wisdom teaching and all the things it’s about. The way that he prays, they notice that when he goes off to spend time with God, he comes back kind of with a reset button having been hit or a renewed resolve. They become aware the more time that they spend with him, that there’s something about the quality, or whatever is that’s happening there in his connection with God that helps him in the moments that he finds himself being criticized. On the other side of the criticism, something that sustains him when he’s clearly getting weary. There is something about the quality of the nature of the way that he prays that sustains him. And so they ask the innocent question, hey, how do we pray like that? Teach us to pray now the cross thing at the beginning of our spiritual journeys, when we first start out, one of the great gifts of the initial period of time that we find ourselves just open and aware to the grace of God is that doors just kind of open for us as we go through them, we have a keen awareness early in our faith, In our childlike faith. 

It seems that when we approach an obstacle, a wall, or, in today’s context, a door, we just kind of assume, maybe, I don’t know how to say it, we assume the door is going to open, and it does. Can you remember a time in your life when things felt pretty easy for a lot of you, that was a long time ago? Anybody? Yeah, for most all of us, if not all of us, it’s been so long since life felt that way that we don’t even remember that moment in our lives. Because the longer that we walk in faith, the more we discover as we do life, that more doors are on the way, right? So whereas at first we may just walk through the door or we just assume God’s going to open it and God opens the door, we’re good, but then the longer that we move along, we find that we have to work at it a little bit more. Here’s the great truth that I’d like to share with you in this brief little homily today, the perception of this passage of Scripture is that if we can just nag it, God enough, God will finally be so sick of hearing us that we’ll get what we ask for. 

Robert Farrar Capon, one of my favorites, the quintessential go to for all things. Parables says that so many of us approach God as if prayer is a vending machine. You know, some of you are so young you haven’t used a lot of vending machines where you understand the frustration of putting all the quarters in and then watching your candy bar get stuck as it slowly is swiveling and it gets stuck, and you find yourself doing what, shaking the living daylights out of it, kicking it. And now you’ve gone and hurt yourself, and now you need to feed your feelings. So you’re going to need two candy bars, not one. And before you know it, and finally, it pops out, and Farrar Capon and says, No, that’s not prayer. That’s not what this author is saying, if you walk away from a parable and it tells you what you went into it, assuming that you knew what it was going to say, you’ve probably missed it. It’s not about wearing God out. 

When I was a teenager, I knew that if I needed to get. Way with something I should approach my mom, not my dad. My dad was the hard liner in our house. I so desperately wanted to go snow skiing, which is such a joke, because in central Tennessee, you don’t have a whole lot of skiing options. You might as well be in Dubai, where you have skiing but like, come on. But sure enough, in Crossville, there was this tiny, little one hill ski resort, and I couldn’t wait to get to it, and my mom said, I am not giving you permission. If your dad says you can go, you can go. And I remember begging my dad at first, and then it was very clear that wasn’t going to happen. And finally, I knew my dad’s buttons enough that I knew if I pushed hard enough at this point with where he was in life, he may very well relent, and he did. The weather forecast was terrible. They were calling for ice, and I actually wore my dad out to the point that he said, Fine, just go. And sure enough, halfway there, we got hit on the interstate, and we ended up spinning out of control and almost hit a tree off of the interstate. A tow truck had to be called pull us back on the interstate. We ended up still the vehicle was operational. We were able to go and we skied our little one hill ski trip, and I came home, and to this day, I don’t know that my dad knows that I was in a car accident on the way there. 

It’s not how it works. Here’s how it works. You didn’t get the life that you thought you would or for the religious types, we didn’t get the life that we thought we should have gotten. It didn’t pan out how we thought it would. And when we approach the doors as they come, one after the other, you know, sometimes in crisis, sometimes in deep pain, and other times, we just get worn out from doing the right thing over and over again, and somehow we just lose the ability to see that God is walking with us, that God is with us. In my own experience, I have had this experience multiple times now in adulthood, where I find myself looking at a proverbial door, and thinking to myself, I know how to get this door open. I’ve seen doors just like this door. I know how to do this. And I even assume that God expects me to be the one that opens it, and I end up beating on that door and turning that handle a million times and kicking on that door to the point that I have no energy left in my body, only to slunk down against that very door, and with what little energy I can muster, throw my hands up in the air and say, God, this is the end. I can’t do it. And sure enough, it’s the moment that I say I can’t, that I find that that door that I’m now leaning against, slunk down, just falls open, and I fall forward with this deep awareness that God just did something that I know I can’t. 

It’s Not about God as Santa Claus giving us what we wish for. It’s not about the vending machine. It’s about our persistence and the necessary knocking. That is more about us wearing our own selves out, our egos out, so that we know that ultimately, prayer is not about getting what we ask for but so much more getting a constant awareness that we are not alone. 

Jesus doesn’t say pray, and let’s see if you earn it. He just says it over and over again. Come to Me and, prayer….. intimacy…. is how God does that best. 

Teach us to pray like you do Jesus, Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Your kingdom come not mine. Your will be done, not mine. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive us, Lord, the way that we forgive other people by your example and please enough doors already lead us, not into temptation, but no matter what, just try to deliver us from ourselves and the evil in us. Amen. 

Amen.

Sermon: The Courage of Compassion

In this week’s message, we begin with the image of a watercolor world map—its softly blended greens, blues, browns, and rust hues—symbolizing how God’s love resists rigid boundaries. We explore how the parable of the Good Samaritan brings that vision into sharper focus. Rather than allowing us to shrink compassion to the neat lines we draw, Jesus invites us into something far broader.

Your question, “Who is my neighbor?” isn’t just a curious theological inquiry—it’s a dangerous attempt to limit mercy. In telling the parable, Jesus doesn’t define the neighbor; he makes us ask if we will become the neighbor. The priest and Levite play by the boundary lines while the Samaritan crosses them—paying time, money, reputation, even losing face within his own community.

Drawing on Bonhoeffer’s powerful warning that “the most dangerous question is ‘Who is my neighbor?’,” we explore how loyalty to citizenship, ideology, fear, or convenience can become lines that keep us from the compassion God calls us to. But mercy always costs—and it’s that crossing of lines that signals a radical allegiance to the Kingdom of God over any earthly divides.

Scripture: Luke 10:25–37

SERMON TRANSCRIPT:

Luke 10:25-37

We have a watercolor map that hangs in the church office. It’s been there for quite some time. Now, if you’ve seen it, then you know the way the colors run one into the other, vibrant greens and blues, burnished browns and rust. The borders of that world map are all blurred together. There are no sharp lines that say this country ends right here, and that one well, it begins here. I’ve always liked that about that particular print. That’s why I bought it a long time ago. What I haven’t liked as much about it is that it always makes me squirm a little bit at the dilemma that it presents. There is this universal truth that we have this need to draw lines, and this reality that that need is at great odds with God’s way of blending everything and everyone together like a beautiful watercolor painting, whereas we certainly want certainty. Of course, God is much more interested in the nuance where we want to claim what’s ours God. God wants us to share.

I’d say that picture that tension is a pretty good portrayal of today’s parable. Jesus tells it in response to a question that at its best sounds quite pious, but at its worst, is a very, very dangerous question. Sounds innocent enough, doesn’t it, who is my neighbor? It is a question that is looking for limitations. It’s looking for the lines, the boundaries, for the boundaries of obligation. It’s a question that wonders, who is it that we don’t have to care about quite as much? It’s a question about whether or not we can stay on this side of the road because of who it is that we see on the other side of the road.

Whereas yesterday, it was one person, it made sense to go well today, maybe not so much. Instead of Jesus directly answering the question in True Jesus form, when this dangerous question is asked, What does he do? He responds with a story. It satisfies deeply and it walks, we walk away from it feeling like we’re starving for the answer all at the same time. That’s what makes a parable a parable. After all, in God’s kingdom, neighbor isn’t a category that you fit people into. We know that. It’s the citizenship that we claim, it’s the mercy that has been offered to us that we have to choose to receive this lawyer’s question.

No offense to the lawyers among us. Is a story that is ultimately a story that is told meant to prompt one that is pretty certain of something, and he’s going to walk away feeling starved for the answer. I mean, he quotes well from Scripture at first you know about what the greatest commandment is. What’s the whole point of all of this? Love the Lord your God with everything you are, and love your neighbor as yourself. Okay? Yeah. He knows the words, but he wants to parse them. He wants to define them with lines. He wants to shrink the words. He wants to diminish the meaning. He wants to know the minimum requirement, perhaps, but nope. Jesus isn’t interested in that. He’s not going to let it happen.

Jesus, in turn, responds with a story that explodes the question. You’ve heard it many times before. You heard it earlier today, a man is beaten and left for dead. There’s a priest that crosses over and decides, nope, not for me. And then there’s the Levite, who sees and does the same. The people of faith who know the rules ultimately failed the test. Alright, we all get that right. But then there’s the Samaritan that comes along. Who is the Samaritan? We’ve heard it before, despised other than the Samaritan is the one that stops. The Samaritan is the one who sees. The Samaritan is the one that actually takes the time to act. He takes action, and then he actually pays the price at great cost, not just the financial cost and the loss of time, but something that we don’t often very we don’t really acknowledge very much is he also probably loses face with those that he comes from. You did what with who and how much?

Jesus ends the telling of the story with lobbying another question out, who is the neighbor in the story, not Who is my neighbor, but rather, are you going to be the neighbor? Make note. It’s a question that’s meant to unsettle us, to expose the lines that we’ve drawn, to ask if we’re ready to cross them, to blur them, to get out the watercolors with the paint brush.

We know this story is about crossing lines. Of course, we’ve heard it so many times before, but let me challenge us today to consider this, what borders or lines are drawn in your own life when you’re presented with the question that Jesus asked at the end of the story today, I don’t know about you, but in my piety, it’s very easy for me to point out the glaring mistake that others make where they draw their lines. But it’s not the question he’s asking. He’s saying, Hey, how about you? Where are your lines drawn?

On the neighbors that we pick are the lines that we choose, the schools that we prefer can become the lines, the conversations that we avoid become the line, the news we consume that reinforce what we already believe. They draw lines. And then there are those lines that sit buried in our hearts, the quiet predator prejudice that we don’t name, the fear of difference, the habit of ignoring pain that feels like it’s way too far away.

Jesus doesn’t ask us to erase all the differences. Of course, he asked us to refuse to let them decide who we’re going to love. He calls us to see humanity on the other side of the road. He calls us to recognize the image of God and those that we are very quick to dismiss. He tells a story to say there is no one that gets left behind. No one outside the reach of compassion, no one God has decided just doesn’t matter. In God’s vernacular, there is quite literally, nobody that’s illegal, nobody that doesn’t have a place in the kingdom of God.

This is a place where the colors, just like skin tones, blend together this kingdom of God. This is a place where boundaries and hearts alike are softened, where what matters isn’t the line, but the bond that we share, that all of us, ultimately, are immigrants in the kingdom of God. I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. Do I really understand that I am an immigrant in the kingdom of God? It’s the one bond that we share. Citizens in the kingdom of God, immigrants, one and all. Welcome one and all.

Jesus doesn’t tell this parable so we can feel righteous. Aaron spoke to this earlier. It’s real in my life, too, to feel this righteousness bubbling up when we spot the priest or the Levite that’s clearly doing the wrong thing and wag our finger disapprovingly. Jesus has no interest in telling parables that reinforce that we’re on the right side. He tells the story so that we’ll see the places that we cross over to the other side and to become aware of the places in our lives where we are struggling to cross over to the other side, the times where we choose safety over compassion, the ways we justify in action with our piety or our fear or our patriotism.

But he also turns the mirror today to show us the Samaritan, the outsider that actually chooses Mercy, the enemy who becomes the neighbor. He gives a vision of God’s kingdom with no insiders or outsiders. There are no first class or second class citizens here, quite frankly, there are no aliens here, just immigrants, one and all citizens, one and all in the kingdom of God.

And so herein lies the struggle. Which is it, am I a citizen of the kingdom of the United States of America, as I point to the flag in our sanctuary, or am I citizen first in the kingdom of God? Which is it Jesus? We say? And Jesus says, you know, before I answer that question, let me tell you a story.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer warned us that the question, Who is my neighbor is perhaps one of the most dangerous questions that’s ever been asked before. I will never forget the first time that I’ve ever went to the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC, dreading it, dreading it, and as I entered being surprised that I was handed a card with somebody’s picture and name on it and a little bit of backstory about where they were from. Do any of you know what I’m talking about? You’ve been through this experience, you weave through the whole museum, not having any idea how this particular story turns out, and when you finally get to the very end, you learn whether or not that person died in the Holocaust or lived in spite of the Holocaust. They just wanted to be sure that we all understood that every single person that’s represented in this big, giant building has a story and a name and a background, every single one of them.

Bonhoeffer says, The Most Dangerous question, perhaps in the world, is this question of who is my neighbor. It’s not a question that wants to expand our love, but determine where the lines are going to be drawn, to know who we get to love and who we can justify not loving not seeing. It’s a question that tries to define who we don’t have to care about. And he called that question a form of rebellion against God, and he was right to carry the cost of compassion when no one else will. Is the call to love that Jesus offers in the story this day.

And you’ll note, even though we don’t want to hear this either, Jesus is not denying in the story that mercy comes for free, Mercy has cost. It will cost us something in the story we know that the Samaritan paid the cost the Samaritan pays with his time, his resources, his vulnerability, and as I said early, the inevitable disproval of his fellow Samaritans to be the one that emerges when nobody seems to think that it’s the right thing to do, or everybody’s terrified to do is truly costly, and it seems to be what the story is prompting us to consider mercy always costs something.

This invitation that we’ve received today to be part of something bigger than we are. This kingdom of Jesus is built on the opposite of anything that is exclusionary. It doesn’t grow through a fear. It doesn’t grow through building walls. It takes shape when someone chooses mercy over caution, when someone crosses a line drawn that’s meant to keep people apart when a stranger becomes neighbor because someone refused to look away, that’s the kingdom he calls for us to enter.

And you’ll note this has been a thread through all the beautiful testimonies we’ve heard today. The thread is not about later, it’s not about some day. It’s about right now, this past week, this day and the day that will follow right now, we get to choose the citizenship that he offers us. We get to carry the passport of compassion. We are called to act like people who remember our own rescue, to remember that there was a time that we cried out for help, and somebody showed up, we are called to remember that this day so that, in turn, we can respond in kind people who don’t measure worth by citizenship papers, but by shared humanity, of a God that loves all, who refuses to Turn away from suffering because it’s inconvenient or complicated and doesn’t fit the political boundaries that we’ve drawn with lines in the sand one after the other.

It doesn’t grow through fear or walls. It takes shape when we choose mercy over caution. The Samaritan didn’t run the cost benefit analysis. He didn’t check the man’s background or his papers or his citizenship. He stopped. He cared. He paid. And Jesus says, now go do the same.

This is not easy work. It is not safe and it is not popular, and it is what it will take, ultimately, to be a full citizen in the kingdom of God that actually gets to experience the joy that comes with that citizenship. It asks us to risk comfort, time, money, pride, to ask for us to put our relationships on the line. It demands that we see the person in this ditch as somebody that could have been us, because there was actually a point in time where it was us, when we’re the ones lying there, broken exposed, needing mercy that we couldn’t repay. Someone crossed over the street to help us, and somebody will again, and in between those bookends, we have the opportunity to be that neighbor.

There’s a song that inspired today’s sermon that I’ll be posting online later today, by John Guerrera, and he puts it so very well. I’ve been listening to it on repeat for the last month, he says, and this is a paraphrase, this, God is building a city where we arrive as immigrants, and you call us God citizens, and you God welcome us as children home.

This is the call. This is the promise, may we have the courage to say yes, and the faith to live as citizens in that kingdom here today, now and forevermore, and all of God’s people said, Amen.

Sterling Severns Devotionals, Romans, Paul's letter to

Reflection Guide: Romans 6 and the Pattern of Dying to Self

Scripture: Romans 6:1-11, Sermon by Rev. Sterling W. Severns









Romans 6:1-11, Special Music, and Sermon










Reflection Questions





1. The Continuous Nature of Spiritual Growth





The sermon emphasized that spiritual growth is not a one-time event but a continuous journey. Baptism represents the ongoing pattern of dying to our false selves and rising with Christ, over and over. Paul calls us into a lifelong relationship with God that demands daily surrender to grace.





Quotes:





    

  • “Grace isn’t just for our past sins, but for the ongoing process of transformation in our lives.” — From the sermon
    • 




  • “Spiritual growth is a journey, not a moment. It’s an ongoing invitation to trust in grace.” — From the sermon
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • Where in your life do you feel called to surrender more fully to ongoing spiritual growth?
    • 




  • How might viewing your faith as a continuous journey change the way you approach daily challenges?
    • 











2. Baptism: A Continuous Journey, Not a One-Time Event





Baptism symbolizes more than a one-time moment of salvation. It’s an invitation to participate repeatedly in the death and resurrection of Christ. Paul teaches that we don’t leave behind sin in a single act, but we live in a daily pattern of surrender and renewal.





Quotes:





    

  • “Baptism isn’t a ritual of finality. It’s the starting point of an ongoing journey with God’s grace.” — From the sermon
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • How does your baptism (or your understanding of baptism) inform your current spiritual practices?
    • 




  • In what ways can you more intentionally participate in the “death and resurrection” pattern of spiritual growth in your everyday life?
    • 











3. Sin as Disconnection from God





Sin is not just a list of wrong behaviors, but an expression of our disconnection from God. It’s a failure to trust in God’s love and provision. Paul invites us to go deeper than surface-level morality and look at the spiritual root of sin—our distance from God.





Quotes:





    

  • “Sin is not about being bad; it is about being disconnected from God, and grace is the connection that heals and restores us.” — Greg Boyle
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • How do you typically understand sin in your own life? Do you tend to focus more on behaviors or the deeper issues of trust and disconnection from God?
    • 




  • What steps can you take to reconnect with God in areas where you feel distant or mistrustful?
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4. Idolatry and Fear-Based Living





The root of sin is a failure to trust in God’s sufficiency, leading us to live out of fear. We create idols—control, success, or security—when we feel uncertain. Living in fear keeps us from relying on God’s provision and invites us to hold onto false securities.





Quotes:





    

  • “The root of sin is our failure to trust in God’s sufficiency. Instead of trusting God’s provision, we rely ultimately on ourselves.” — Mark Biddle, Missing the Mark
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • What idols (e.g., control, success, security) do you find yourself clinging to in times of uncertainty?
    • 




  • How can you shift from a fear-based way of living to a life more rooted in trust and surrender to God’s provision?
    • 











5. The Tug of Grace: A Moment-to-Moment Decision





We are continually pulled by fear, the root of all sin. The tug of grace is what gets our attention, but it’s not enough to keep us from being pulled under. It’s the invitation to decide: will we allow fear to drown our true selves, or will we let go of the rope, die to self, and let God’s grace drown our false selves?





Quotes:





    

  • “The tug of grace is God’s invitation. It’s not about resisting fear through our strength but about letting go and trusting in grace.” — From the sermon
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • Can you identify moments in your life where fear has pulled you away from trust in God? How did the tug of grace invite you to respond?
    • 




  • What would it look like to let go of the rope and fully surrender to grace in a specific area of your life?
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6. Dying to Self and Living in Christ





Paul teaches that true spiritual life comes through repeated death to self. We are called to continually surrender our false selves—our fears, pride, and need for control—and trust in God’s resurrection power. This ongoing death and resurrection is what allows us to live fully in Christ.





Quotes:





    

  • “We are called to ‘just keep drowning.’ It is in dying to our false selves that we can truly live.” — From the sermon
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • What aspects of your false self (e.g., pride, control, fear) are you being called to surrender in this season of life?
    • 




  • How have you experienced spiritual resurrection after moments of dying to self? What new life emerged from those experiences?
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Quotes for Further Reflection





    

  1. “Grace isn’t just for our past sins, but for the ongoing process of transformation in our lives.” — From the sermon
    2. 




  2. “Sin is not about being bad; it is about being disconnected from God, and grace is the connection that heals and restores us.” — Greg Boyle
    3. 




  3. “We are called to ‘just keep drowning.’ It is in dying to our false selves that we can truly live.” — From the sermon
    4. 




  4. “The root of sin is our failure to trust in God’s sufficiency. Instead of trusting God’s provision, we rely ultimately on ourselves.” — Mark Biddle, Missing the Mark
    5. 




  5. “When we live out of fear, we are essentially choosing self-reliance over grace, and in the end, that will always pull us under.” — From the sermon
    6. 







	

		

			

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Adult Reflection Guide: Romans 5:1-11
		

		

			





Scripture: Romans 5:1-11, Duet by Jessica C. and Clara, Sermon by Rev. Sterling W. Severns





 Romans 5:1-11 (The Message)





Reflection Questions





1. Facing Resistance: Reflecting on Our Discomfort





The pastor acknowledged his initial resistance to Paul’s teachings, especially the perception of Paul’s arrogance. This resistance is something we often experience when faced with uncomfortable truths that reveal our own vulnerabilities. Paul’s writings, especially in Romans, challenge us to embrace grace over pride, and to let go of the need to control or judge. It is in releasing our resistance that we find transformation.





Quotes:





    

  • “God’s grace is not a gift we can earn by being strong; it is a gift we receive by admitting our weakness.” — From the sermon
    • 




  • “The arrogance that pushes back against grace is the same arrogance that resists transformation. The sooner we surrender it, the sooner God can work in us.” — Paraphrased from the sermon
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • When have you resisted a difficult truth in your spiritual journey, and what did that resistance reveal about your own need for control or comfort?
    • 




  • How does embracing the reality of God’s grace change your view of Paul’s teachings and how you relate to others?
    • 











2. Suffering as a Path to Growth





Paul teaches that suffering is not a curse but a pathway to growth and transformation. As Paul writes in Romans 5:3-4, “suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope.” This chain reaction is how God shapes us through hardship. Instead of seeing suffering as something to avoid, Paul invites us to see it as an opportunity to grow deeper in our faith and trust in God’s love.





Quotes:





    

  • “We continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next.” — The Message paraphrase of Romans 5:3-4
    • 




  • “Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.” — William Barclay
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • How do you typically respond to suffering—do you avoid it or embrace it as part of the journey?
    • 




  • Can you think of a time when suffering produced growth or deepened your hope in God?
    • 











3. God’s Presence in Suffering





One of the key themes of the sermon is that God is not distant or uninvolved in our suffering but walks alongside us through it. Paul understood this deeply, having endured great personal suffering. His message is that God doesn’t cause suffering, but God is present within it. This reframes how we view hardship—not as something to escape but as a place where we can encounter God’s love most powerfully.





Quotes:





    

  • “God is most present in our suffering, not to fix it, but to walk with us through it. It’s in those moments that we find the deepest sense of God’s grace.” — From the sermon
    • 




  • “Hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.” — Romans 5:5, NRSV
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • How has your understanding of God’s presence during suffering changed over time?
    • 




  • When have you felt God’s closeness during a difficult season in your life?
    • 











4. Justification: Being Grounded in God’s Grace





Justification, as explained in the sermon, is about God “putting us in our place”—not to humiliate or punish, but to ground us in grace. Whether we find ourselves feeling superior or inferior, justification reminds us that we all stand equal before God, with our feet firmly planted on the same ground of grace. Paul’s message is clear: we are all recipients of God’s love, and that levels the playing field.





Quotes:





    

  • “Justification is God putting us in our place—firmly on the ground, not hovering above others or sinking below. We all stand equal in God’s grace.” — From the sermon
    • 




  • “It’s not about what we do; it’s about what God has done for us.” — Paraphrased from the sermon
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • Where do you feel ungrounded or out of balance in your life? How might God be calling you to find your footing in grace?
    • 




  • How does seeing yourself and others through the lens of God’s grace change your interactions with others?
    • 











5. Endurance Leading to Hope





The sermon emphasizes that endurance isn’t just about getting through hardship, but about being transformed by it. Paul teaches that through endurance, our character is refined, and that character leads to a hope that will not disappoint us. This hope is rooted in God’s love—a love that doesn’t falter in the face of suffering, but is strengthened by it. Endurance, then, becomes a spiritual practice, not just a survival tactic.





Quotes:





    

  • “Suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope. And hope does not disappoint us.” — Romans 5:3-5, NRSV
    • 




  • “Hope is not a feeling; it is a decision to trust in God’s love, even when we cannot see the way forward.” — From the sermon
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • Where in your life do you need to cultivate more patience and endurance? How can you lean into the process of growth even when it feels slow?
    • 




  • How has God shaped your character through the challenges you’ve faced? How does that give you hope?
    • 











6. Peace Beyond Understanding





The peace Paul speaks of in Romans 5:1 isn’t just the absence of conflict—it’s a profound sense of reconciliation with God, a peace that permeates our entire being. This peace, described in the Greek word eirene, points to a state of wholeness and restoration that goes beyond what we can intellectually understand. It’s the kind of peace that, as the woman in the pastor’s story described, resides “in the gut” and transforms our outlook on life.





Quotes:





    

  • “By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that’s not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us.” — Romans 5:1-2, The Message
    • 




  • “Peace is not the absence of conflict, but the presence of God in the midst of chaos.” — Paraphrased from the sermon
    • 






Reflection Questions:





    

  • How have you experienced a deep, lasting peace in your life, one that goes beyond mere calm or absence of stress?
    • 




  • What steps can you take to seek a deeper peace in your relationship with God and others?
    • 






7. The Pharmacy Story: A Journey from the Head to the Gut





In the pharmacy, the woman’s story reflects a powerful journey of healing—one that moves from the intellectual understanding of suffering to a deeper, more embodied peace. She begins by touching her head, the site of her tumor, acknowledging where her suffering began. Then she speaks of the peace she felt in her heart—a peace that came after surgery and recovery. But months later, her description of peace had moved even deeper, down to her gut. This profound shift symbolizes more than just healing from illness—it reflects a deep, embodied understanding of God’s peace, beyond emotion, rooted in lived experience.





This story beautifully parallels the movement of faith from intellectual belief to heartfelt trust and finally to an embodied knowing that transcends mere feeling. The woman’s peace in her gut, as the pastor describes, is akin to the peace that Paul speaks of in Romans 5:1-5, a peace that results from enduring suffering and growing in hope.





Quotes:





    

  • “I had this understanding in my life of what it meant to have the good life and kind of this peace. It was right here in my heart. But now I’m discovering this peace that is here, in my gut.” — From the sermon
    • 




  • “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” — John 14:27, NIV
    • 






This deeper, gut-level peace is not just an emotional state; it is a knowing that transcends intellectual understanding and reaches the core of our being. It is the kind of peace that comes after we have walked through suffering and emerged with a renewed sense of God’s presence.





Reflection Questions:





    

  • The woman’s journey from head to heart to gut represents a deepening of her understanding of peace. How does this progression resonate with your own experience of peace?
    • 




  • Have you ever moved from understanding something intellectually to knowing it deep within your being? How did that shift change your outlook or your faith?
    • 




  • What does it mean to you to have peace in your “gut”—a peace that goes beyond mere feelings or thoughts and becomes something you embody in your daily life?
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Advent Devotion: The Journey from Christmas
		

		

			




Scripture Reading:  If you put an end to oppression, to every gesture of contempt, and to every evil work; if you give food to the hungry and satisfy those who are in need, then the darkness around you will turn to the brightness of noon. 

Isaiah 58:10





God has made us what we are, and in our union with Christ Jesus He has created us for a life of good deeds, which He has already prepared for us to do. (Ephesians 2:10)





Meditation:  Among my fondest Christmas memories are the Christmas Eve services at Fredericksburg Baptist Church –the traditional hymns, the candles, the sense of family, big and small.  It is a time of great joy when we allow ourselves to think about new beginnings and hope for a better world.





In many ways that is the essence of Christmas.  It is a journey toward hope.  But God’s call to each of us is to put hope into action.  It would be a mistake to only see the joy and hope that the baby Jesus represents and not listen to the rest of the story, the story of God’s call to reconciliation for each of us and for those whose lives we touch every day.  Our response to the journey after Christmas must be, “Here I am Lord, send me.”





Thus, as we celebrate this holy day, we must recognize that the journey to Christmas was to prepare us for the hard work of the journey from Christmas.  The road is long and filled with trials but the Jesus we meet on Christmas Day travels with us, if we choose to let Him.  And He transforms us on the journey. 





 These words from John Westerhoff, III say it well:





We have been called into a visionary community to risky, laughable lives of tomorrow’s people, to live in and for God’s dream, to witness to a world of peace and unity, freedom and equality, of justice and well being for all people.  We are called to accept the cost and the joy of discipleship, to proclaim the word and deed of the good news of God’s dream come true.  God promises us courage and strength in the struggle for peace and justice; God forgives us our failures and lifts us up to new possibilities; God is present in our trials and rejoicing and hopes from this day forward.





Prayer:  Oh Lord, thank You for the joy of Christmas and Your gift of hope wrapped in swaddling clothes.  Please travel with us on the journey ahead and continually remind us that if we are faithful to the trek, not only will we find friends along the way, not only will we find the beautiful and the true and the good and the lovely and the delicious tastes and sounds and smells and sights given to us by the Creator of the journey …but we will also catch a vision of what is at the end of the road.  Amen.





      (paraphrase from Ken Medema)

		


		
			
 





	

		

			
				

					
											
				


					

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Advent Devotion: ‘Tis as Blessed to Receive as To Give
		

		

			


Written by Ginny & Fred Karnas       Narrated by Meg Lacy Vega (recorded in 2019)





Scripture:  Do not be deceived my dear brothers!  Every good gift and every present comes from heaven; it comes from God….” (James 1:17)





Meditation:   For much of my life I have not been very good at accepting gifts.  I guess I could blame it on an upbringing that etched on my brain the old adage, “‘Tis better to give than receive.” 





I suppose that this saying is a useful tool for providing a perspective for children overwhelmed by the desire to receive, but as guidance for building relationships it is not very helpful.  





I have no specific memory of who helped me understand the subtle message of a reluctance to receive, but the value of that lesson has come home to me on many occasions as homeless friends, children, and others have sought to say “thank you” or “happy holidays,” or “I love you” with a simple gift. I have come to understand my acceptance of that gift is an acknowledgment of their humanity, that we are equals in the eyes of God, and that I have a need that they can fill.  I now believe that accepting a gift can be as much of an act of love as giving one.





On Christmas Day in 1986 an op ed piece entitled, “Gifts from the Homeless “appeared in the New York Times.  Written by author Jonathan Kozol, the short piece reminded us of the gifts we receive daily even from those who live on our city streets.





A homeless father of two children whom I met the other day in San Antonio told me that he sells blood twice a week to buy the food to feed his sons.  They sleep with him at night along a railroad track… Those of us who can afford to go to hospitals when we are sick should give thanks to those who offer us their blood – perhaps the one thing we might have supposed that they could call their own.





A woman who sleeps beneath the asphalt roadway of the Burnside Bridge in Portland, Oregon, donates her body for medical experimentation at a local hospital and earns thereby enough to buy the heavy padded clothes she needs to make it through the winter.  Let us thank her for the health she gives us.





An important lesson on the journey to Christmas is that each one of us is created in the image of God and that our relationships to one another, to be honest and healthy, must recognize the contributions we all make.





Prayer:  Lord, thank You for all the gifts we receive this season.  Help us to understand that receiving can be an important and loving act as we build relationships with those whom we encounter each and every day.  Amen. 

		


		
			
 





	

		

			
				

					
											
				


					

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Advent Devotion: The Phoenix Bird
		

		

			


Written by Fred & Ginny Karnas







Scripture:  When anyone is joined to Christ, he [or she] is a new being; the old is gone, the new has come.   (II Corinthians 5:17)







Meditation:  In the old terminal of Phoenix’s Sky Harbor Airport one finds a large, brightly colored mural depicting the legendary phoenix.  Egyptian mythology tells of a bird that rises from its own ashes to live again.





FBC’s 1995 mission team to Prague, Czech Republic went there to help raise the International Baptist Theological Seminary (ITBS) from the ashes of what had been a Nazi army camp during World War II and a Communist scientific laboratory compound during the Cold War.  We went to work with paint, cement, muscle, sweat, and prayer to renovate this site of former evils into a hope-filled place of beauty where Christ’s life-giving love is now proclaimed.  Although ITBS is no longer in existence, for nearly three decades the seminary made it possible for Christians from many lands to be equipped for spreading the gospel in their own countries.





While we labored to renovate the buildings of the old site, which contained some structures dated to the 1700’s, God was working on renovation in some of our lives, as no doubt has been true on many mission trips Tabernacle has sponsored





Sometimes these life “renovations” come not through pleasant experiences such as missions trips, but through painful ones which are difficult for us to understand.  C.S. Lewis uses a beautiful metaphor to illustrate how Christ brings about change in our lives:





Imagine yourself as a living house.  God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing.  He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on:  you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised.  But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense.  What on earth is He up to?  The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards.  You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage:  but He is building a palace.  He intends to come and live in it Himself.





The last verse of the age-old hymn by Charles Wesley, “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling,” echoes this theme of renovation:





Finish, then, Thy new creation; pure and spotless let us be;





Let us see Thy great salvation perfectly restored in Thee:





Changed from glory into glory, till in heaven we take our place,





Till we cast our crowns before Thee, lost in wonder, love, and praise.





Have you invited the Christ Child into your heart for renovation?





Prayer:  O Lord, thank You for loving us so much that You were willing to come to earth as a lowly Babe, to suffer, die, and rise again for us, and now to transform us into a place where You may dwell.  This Christmas may we willingly enlarge the place of Your dwelling in our lives.  Amen.

		


		
			
 





	

		

			
				

					
											
				


					

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Advent Devotion: The Gift of Diversity
		

		

			


Written by Ginny and Fred Karnas







Scripture:  You were baptized into union with Christ, and now you are clothed, so to speak with the life of Christ himself.  So there is no difference between Jews and Gentiles, between slaves and free men, between men and women; you are all one in union with Christ Jesus. 

Galatians 3:27-28





Meditation:  Simeon and Anna, the shepherds, the Magi….an eclectic collection of visitors to the young Jesus, but in their differences of class, gender and maybe even race, they shared a single purpose …they sought to be closer to God’s love, to understand His ways and His plan for their lives.  As we journey to Christmas, we should celebrate all those who journey with us, especially those who are different from us, and through those differences help us to see the face of God.





It was another steamy summer morning in inner-city Norfolk, Virginia when Steve opened the doors of the small Methodist church and welcomed the children of this vibrant, yet struggling, African American neighborhood to the daily recreation program.  As the children shuffled, bumped and sped their way in, I stood there watching with my five summer mission teammates.  I was just shy of my 21st birthday and yet I marveled at the exuberance of the youngsters.  That morning would proceed like most of the others that summer, a cacophony of laughs and cries mixed with the stickiness of lemonade spills and Elmer’s glue excesses.  Just before lunchtime, as I sat outside watching a game of kickball, the littlest of all the children, Joellyn, climbed into my lap and began to run her fingers through my hair.  After a couple of minutes of research, the four-year old exclaimed, “You have baby hair.”  





In a moment she was off and running once again and I was left to ponder the meaning of the differences God created in each of us.  I suppose Joellyn was referring to the way my hair felt compared to the hair texture of the African American adults with whom she spent most of her time.  In the many years that have ensued since that moment I have come to see beauty in our differences as they teach each of us a little more about what it means to be made in the image of God, and give us a greater understanding of the breadth of His love.  I am reminded of the beautiful Christmas song which helps us understand how the baby Jesus is seen through the eyes of children around the world.





Some children see Him lily white,





 the baby Jesus born this night.





Some children see Him lily white





 with tresses soft and fair.





Some children see him bronzed and brown,





 the Lord of heaven to earth come down.





Some children see Him bronzed and brown





 with dark and heavy hair.





Some children see Him almond eyed,





 the Baby whom we kneel beside. 





Some children see Him almond eyed





 with skin of yellow hue.





Some children see Him dark as they, 





 sweet Mary’s Son to whom we pray.





Some children see Him dark as they, 





 and ah they love Him too.





The children in each different place 





 will see the baby Jesus’ face





 like theirs, but bright with heavenly grace





 and filled with holy light.





Prayer:    Lord, this Christmas season help us to celebrate Your Kingdom.  Help us to recognize that in our differences we can learn a little more about Your love and Your plan for all of us.  Amen.

		


		
			
 





	

		

			
				

					
											
				


					

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Advent Devotion: The Widow and the School Crossing Guard
		

		

			


Written by Ginny & Fred Karnas     Narrated by Rachel Brock (2019)





Scripture: … the Lord Jesus himself said, “There is more happiness in giving than in receiving.”  (Acts 20:35b)





Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your strength, and with all your mind; and love your neighbor as you love yourself.   (Luke 10:27)





Meditation:  Lupe was a school crossing guard who lived with her husband and four school-aged children in a very small tarpaper dwelling in southside Phoenix, Arizona.  Her neighborhood of poor Hispanics, Native Americans, and elderly and mentally ill boarding home residents was not the pictorial stuff of travel brochures about sunny Phoenix.  As a neighborhood in the flight path of Sky Harbor International Airport, it was noisy, but most residents paid little attention to that until they were forced to move due to airport expansion in the mid-seventies.





Lupe enjoyed little of the world’s riches, but her soul was rich in faith which produced the gifts of God’s Spirit.  I can still see the light of her smile in my mind’s eye.  Because of her deep love for God, Lupe named her sons Moses and Solomon.  She made sure her children were in Sunday School and church every week and at every activity offered for their age groups at the Phoenix Baptist Center where we led Bible studies, sewing, crafts, recreation, and other activities.





Though she had very little in the way of material goods, Lupe was always finding a way to give – a shared meal, babysitting time, a hanging flower pot with a macramé holder she had made, and a small stuffed animal which our daughter, then a toddler, still cherishes to this day.





Lupe had learned the Christmas lesson that the widow in the Bible who gave her famous mite had learned centuries earlier – that it is more joyful to give than to receive.  They learned this truth and lived it out because they loved God with a passion that came close to total devotion – heart, soul, mind, and strength.





Prayer:  Lord Jesus, may we who have most of what we want and much more than we need become more like the widow and Lupe who gave from their little.  As we journey toward Christmas, may we give passionately to You of heart, soul, mind, and strength, so that we may know You more deeply as the Ultimate Giver.  Amen.

		


		
			
 





	

		

			
				

					
											
				


					

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Advent Devotion: Simple Gifts
		

		

			


Written by Ginny & Fred Karnas     Narrated by Hogan Brock (2019)      





Scripture:  Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Mathew 6:19-21)





Meditation:  It was a few days before Christmas when I saw the homeless man walking through the alley behind our office building.  I had seen him many times before as he wandered through the neighborhood looking for cans to sell.  He always came carrying a large garbage bag or pushing a shopping cart and went about his chore in a quiet and business-like manner, seldom staying anywhere long enough to say hello, or be caught by those who didn’t appreciate his entrepreneurial spirit.





On this particular day when I saw him in our back parking lot, I remembered that I had a large bag full of cans in the trunk of our car that I had been meaning to drop off at a recycling center for weeks.  I immediately determined that I could eliminate my task and perhaps provide the homeless “canner” with a little more capital than usual.





He was a bit wary when I popped out the back door of the office and got his attention, but I assured him I meant no harm.  I merely wanted to offer him something I had in the trunk.  





He stood by me silently with no real expression as I opened the trunk and pulled out what for him was an entire day’s haul of cans.  





As I handed him the bag, he realized what I was giving him and his expression changed dramatically.  A smile came across his face.  He looked me in the eye and in a loud voice he exclaimed, “Well, Merry Christmas!!”





Christmas is about joy.  Too often, however that joy is complicated by unreasonable expectations, endless advertisements, and the crush of holiday events, and, as a result, opportunities for small acts of love are missed.  But in that brief moment, the homeless man taught me that the joy of Christmas can come in the simplest of ways when we seek to cross the barriers that divide us one from another. 





Prayer:  Lord, help us cut through the drudgery of shopping and the dint of expectations to embrace the simple gift of a Baby in a manger and Your eternal gift of love to each of us.















Introduction to Ginny and Fred’s Devotion Series