"Teachers"

2 Kings 2: 1-12 and Mark 2:2-9

Sunday, February 15, 2015

First Congregational United Church of Christ – Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

Over the past month thousands throughout the world have been captivated by the story of Mott Hill Bridges Academy and its principal, Ms. Nadia Lopez. This small public middle school in Brooklyn has been the featured by Humans of New York. Now, if you’re on social media you probably already know about Humans of New York. It has over 12 million followers on Facebook. Each day Brandon Stanton posts a photo of a real, live New Yorker with a brief quotation from the person. The photos range from the mundane to the fabulous and the quotations are often inspirational, funny, poignant. I grew up learning the art of “people watching” from my grandmother. We would go to the mall so my mom could shop and Grandma would sit with me on a bench and we’d people watch. We’d make up stories about the people we saw. Humans of New York is like the best people-watching ever.

So about a month ago, Mr. Stanton started a new project. He had met a young man named Vidal Chastanet who told him about his principal Ms. Lopez. Vidal said, “When we get in trouble, she doesn’t suspend us….she tells us that every time somebody falls out of school, a new jail cell gets built. And one time she made every student stand up, one at a time, and she told each one of us that we matter.”

It’s no surprise that Vidal isn’t the only one who adores Ms. Lopez. Humans of New York began a fundraising campaign for the students of Mott Hill Bridges Academy. The original goal was $100,000. Ms. Lopez had a dream of taking the entire 6^th grade class to visit Harvard each year in the fall. She believed that these kids, most of whom had never been outside of New York City, needed the opportunity to stand on an Ivy League campus and dream about what they might become.

By the time the fundraising campaign ended earlier this week, they had raised over $1.4 million dollars. Now that’s a lot of trips to Harvard! The plan was to use some funds for the Harvard excursions, some for a badly-needed summer program, and some to endow a scholarship in Vidal’s name. They raised all of that money in less than three weeks. There were over 51,000 donors – most of whom donated just $10 or $20.

All of this was taking place at the same time Kansans were receiving news that the Governor plans to balance the budget on the backs of our children – cutting $45 million from already-strapped schools.

Several of us were privileged to hear Geoffrey Canada speak earlier this week at one of many excellent Black History Month events on campus. Canada is a world-renowned educational entrepreneur based in Harlem. As executive director of the Harlem Children’s Zone he has worked with thousands of at-risk children and families from birth through college. He calls the children in the program, “my children” and it’s clear he feels a keen responsibility for giving them the tools and opportunities they need to succeed.

Canada spoke about how the demise of public education in our nation isn’t a “black problem” or even a “poor-people’s problem.” Instead, it is an American problem. Sooner or later, he said, we will see that these problems in our educational system are going to affect all of us. Well, that’s certainly apparent in Kansas right now. Harlem and Brooklyn are pretty far away from here, but the systematic devaluing of our public schools seems to know no boundaries.

My mother and father were both career educators in public schools, so I am a little biased in my love of education and teachers….but I’d venture to say almost all of us have a story or two about a teacher who changed our life, yes? I am often astounded at the creativity, optimism, and tenacity of those who teach our children day after day, month after month. They are often unsupported. They work long hours. They certainly aren’t getting rich.

Canada told a wonderful story about one of his college professors. He wanted to study psychology but everyone told him he’d never make it through statistics. So he studied and studied and did his best on the first exam….and it came back with a 37. Out of 100. He took himself in to see the professor, who told him, “Oh, it’ll be okay. You just need a different textbook. Here’s a different one. Now, go and read this week’s chapter in the new book and do the homework.” He did. He failed. “Okay, now read it again in the new book and do the homework.” He did. He passed. And on and on throughout the semester. When Canada got to the end of the semester (with a passing grade) he realized, “Wait a minute. This guy basically just got me to read two textbooks. Of course I passed. I had to do twice as much work and he tricked me into it without wounding my ego. What a genius.”

There’s nothing like a good teacher. We heard a story earlier this morning of a brilliant teacher and his student. Elijah and Elisha wandering around the countryside. Elijah the teacher. Elisha the student. Three times, Elijah said to Elisha, “You don’t have to keep going with me. I’ve got a lot of traveling to do.” Three times Elisha refused to leave his teacher’s side. It reminds me of that other great story about accompaniment in the Bible – you know the one. Ruth and Naomi. Naomi travels back to her homeland after the death of her son, but her daughter-in-law Ruth refuses to leave her side, saying, “Do not press me to leave you or turn back from following you. Where you go, I will go. Where you lodge, I will lodge. Your people will be my people and your God my God.”

When you find a good teacher, a good mentor, someone who help you live more fully into the life God is dreaming for you, you don’t want to let go. You will follow that person, no matter what it takes. Elisha followed his teacher all the way until his death. After three times of trying to lose Elisha, I guess Elijah finally figured out he wasn’t going to get rid of this enthusiastic student. So he said, “What can I do for you before I die?” Now isn’t that just like a good teacher? Asking, “How can I help you one last time?”

Elisha had his answer ready. No hesitation. “Please give me a double-portion of your spirit.” In other words, “Please, teacher. Help me to become more like you.”

And Elijah. I can kind of imagine his gentle teacher smile. I mean, surely he knew there would be no way for his spirit to be passed on to his student, no matter how much both of them wanted it to be. But he did what all great teachers do. He found a work-around. He said to his student, “Well, this will be difficult. But here’s what we’ll do. If you see me being taken from you, you will get your wish.”

In other words – I need you to do the hardest thing I can think of right now. I need you to watch me leave. You have been clinging to me all along but now it is time for you to figure out how to fly solo. Watch me leave. Stand on your own two feet.

And Elisha does it. It’s not easy, but he does it. He cries out like a small child, “Father! Father!” as Elijah is taken up in the whirlwind, but he watches. And as he does, he grows stronger, more assured of his own abilities. If he can do this hard thing, surely he can handle whatever comes next.

He stands there, alone at the edge of the Jordan. He rips his own clothes in two, so distraught over the loss of his dear friend and teacher. And then he notices the mantle crumpled on the ground. That great symbol of Elijah’s prophetic power. He picks it up and wraps it around himself. That mantle carried so many memories. Remember when Elijah was running from Queen Jezebel, afraid from his own life? He went to Mount Horbeb seeking God’s face. He was terrified by the wind, the earthquake, the fire. And after the fire, he wrapped his face in that mantle and went, tentatively sticking his head out of the cave. And it was there that he heard that voice of God in the silence.

If mantles could talk….this one would have a lot to say. And as it is passed from Elijah to Elisha, I think it’s notable that it was Elisha who had to pick it up on his own. Elijah didn’t bestow it on Elisha. He simply left it behind. Elisha was the one who decided he had earned it and boldly picked it up himself, claiming his succession. The student becomes a teacher. It’s the hope of every truly great teacher. And Elijah was certainly that.

Elijah, of course, isn’t the only teacher in today’s stories from the Bible. We also get to stand on the mountain with Peter, James, John and their teacher, Jesus. As Jesus is transfigured before his friends, he literally becomes a beacon of light. And Jesus, the great teacher, is joined by his teachers – Elijah and Moses – those great prophets who Jesus emulates.

The students – Peter, James, John – do what any students might do. They want to stay with their teacher as long as possible. They say, “Let’s build some small houses so we can stay here with Jesus, Elijah, and Moses. We can learn from them here.”

But that isn’t the plan. Jesus may be a teacher, but he’s more likely to be teaching out there in the real world, not sheltered away on some mountain. And so the disciples follow him back out into the world. A world as challenging and discombobulating as ours. Jesus and his students were no strangers to poverty, discrimination, misplaced priorities. They would have likely felt right at home here in Kansas where we struggle with misguided politicians who seem to be doing their best to send our state back in time. They knew all about governments made up of selfish rulers who mostly cared about staying in power, whatever the costs to the average person. They knew all about leaders who were willing to sacrifice some to appease others.

And can we pause for just a moment to make sure and say out loud how incredibly enraging it is that we now, once again, live in a state that refuses to protect the civil rights of its employees who are gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender? We must continue to protest – loudly and vehemently and in the name of Christ – until all Kansans, not just those employed by the government, but ALL Kansans are protected from discrimination both at work and at home. I was unable to make the protest in Topeka yesterday but I am very thankful that some of you were there. I wrote a letter to Governor Brownback and I hope you’ll do the same.

When Peter, James, and John followed their teacher off that mountain, I can imagine they might have felt a bit like we do now. Back to the grind. Back to the work of loving loudly in a world where the voices of hate and fear often seem turned up to full blast.

I think their hope must have come from that time on the mountain. That image of Jesus, transformed into a beacon of light and hope and healing and wholeness. That is what guided and sustained them. And it is what guides and sustains us even to this day. As we prepare to journey into Lent together, we know we are going all the way to the cross with our teacher. The story will not end until we’ve encountered some of the most hateful vitriol that the world has ever known. And yet, we follow. We will not leave our teacher alone.

We will not leave Jesus alone – not when the Roman government says he is unworthy of basic human, God-given rights because he is less-than, from an unprotected class. We will not leave Jesus alone – we will journey together and recommit ourselves to loving loudly in the face of discrimination. We will not leave Jesus alone – we will continue to speak up on behalf of the children in this state who depend on us to provide outstanding teachers and great schools. 

We will not leave Jesus alone because God has not left us alone. In the words of Rabbi Rami Shapiro, “We are loved by an unending love.” God did not forsake Elijah or his student, Elisha. God did not leave Peter, James, John or their teacher Jesus. And God will not leave us.

We have been blessed by outstanding teachers. What will we do with all that we’ve learned?

"Freed for..."

Mark 1:29-30

Sunday, February 8, 2015

First Congregational United Church of Christ – Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

Last week, Jesus was casting out unclean spirits. This week, he’s healing Simon’s mother-in-law from a mysterious illness and then curing folks who were sick from all kinds of illness and casting out more demons.

I kind of stopped praying for miracle cures a long time ago. I’ve known too many people who have died from all kinds of awful diseases. Especially cancer – which, truly, if cancer were a person I might walk up to it and punch it in the face. I’m a pretty nonviolent person, but I’ve been known to curse and scream and cry a lot in the face of watching beloved children of God die from that wretched disease.

Where’s Jesus when we need him? Why can’t he just show up with his magic touch, say a few words, and cure those we love? 

When I think of those who I’ve watched march that steady journey from healthy, vibrant, seemingly unstoppable people to those who have lost the light in their eyes and are clearly ready to leave this world, I will always think of Lauri. Lauri died almost a year ago on a cold, sunny Saturday in early March. It was at the end of a long, hard winter and as I sat with her in hospice, I told her stories of spring. I told her about how the birds were starting to sing and the days were getting longer. I thanked her for all she had taught me and I whispered to her the hope of Resurrection.

I have no idea if Lauri heard me. But one of the things I thanked her for was how she had opened up my understanding of the word healing. When Lauri first came to our congregation she had already survived two rounds of cancer. She told me that figured it was only a matter of time until it came for her again. I preferred to live in denial, but she, of course, knew her body better than I did.

Shortly after she was diagnosed for the third time, I saw her in church one Sunday. By the way, the story I’m telling you is one I told at her funeral. I asked her ahead of time if it would be okay if I shared it with other people. Anyway, I knew Lauri had recently made the decision not to pursue any of the medical treatments available to her. I came up to her after worship and asked her how she was doing. I really wanted to know. Lauri was one of those people that always really wanted to know how you were when she asked you how you were doing, too. Lauri told me that she felt good. She felt peaceful. And then she said something I’ll never forget. She said, “I’m ready to begin working on my healing.”

I guess I looked surprised. She saw my surprise and gave me a gentle smile and said, “You know, Caela, healing isn’t always physical.”

As I watched Lauri walk towards death, it was clear to me that she would not be physically healed. Not by the doctors, not by the alternative treatments she tried, not by praying, not by sheer force of will. And yet – I would be lying to you unless I told you the truth: I believe she was healed. She was not cured, no. But I saw her spirit transformed. I saw her freed up to be the mother, sister, friend, teacher, human being she was called to be. Even at the end, her spirit was just so vibrant. You couldn’t help but look in her eyes and know that she was being healed in some very serious ways.

So when I read in Mark’s Gospel about Jesus miraculously healing people, I try to keep my mind’s eye on Lauri. I try to remember what she taught me: that healing isn’t always physical. It doesn’t have to be the same thing as a cure.

When Jesus went to his friend’s house to heal his mother-in-law he wasted no time. He healed her. And then she wasted no time. She jumped up and started to serve the others who were gathered in her home.

Some people are frustrated with this part of the story. I mean, as a feminist living in the 21^st century, I get it – it’s annoying that her first act upon being healed is to start taking care of all the men around her. Bringing them food, waiting on them hand and foot. Come on. Why’s it gotta be that way?

But then, on the other hand, it doesn’t do us a ton of good to try and impose our social norms and expectations on Jesus’s world. Simon’s mother-in-law was about as likely to take on a male task like teaching in the synagogue as she was to become an astronaut. It just wasn’t likely to happen.

The fact was, her job as a woman in the ancient near east was to take care of people around her. To offer hospitality. The actual word that is used is diakonos – which is where we get the word deacon. It means to minister to another person.  And I have to think -  getting the chance to minister to Jesus? That’s not a bad gig regardless of one’s gender.

Since serving was what was expected of her, it was really how she found her worth as a woman. And so, if she was sick, she was not able to do her job. It can be frustrating chen physical limitations keep us from being able to do our job, right? Maybe one or two sick days can be a nice break, but then I start wishing I could get back at it again – become a contributing member of society. Go back to doing  our regular stuff and doing it well -  whether that’s at the university or a shop or in your own home caring for children or volunteering out there in the community.  Most of us enjoy feeling useful.

I’m assuming Simon’s mother-in-law was no different. And when Jesus came, she was not only healed but restored. It’s not just that her fever went away, it’s that she was restored to her place in the community. Freed from the fever in order to serve others. Back to her regular work. I bet it felt really good.

David Lose, upon examining this passage from Mark, notes, “Jesus frees us not only from things that seek to oppress us, but also for a life of purpose and meaning.”[i]

When Jesus healed Simon’s mother-in-law she didn’t just sit around. She jumped up and lived more fully into her life. She was freed from the fever and freed for ministry.

When we focus on what we need to be freed from we are looking backwards. When we also consider what we might be freed for, we are oriented towards the future. I

f we were able to truly confront those things which possess us and, with Christ’s help, find a way to loose their power over us….what might we do next? What might we be freed up to do? Would we, like Simon’s mother-in-law, jump up and begin offering hospitality to everyone around us? Or perhaps our ministry would look completely different. Maybe we would advocate for justice or creatively confront systems of poverty. Maybe your call is to visit the sick or the imprisoned. Maybe your call is to proclaim the good news. Maybe your call is to bless others and remind them that they are loved more fully than they can every comprehend by the one who loved us all into being.

The possibilities are endless.

And then I think of Lauri. Her healing wasn’t physical. And so she was never freed up to lobby Congress or feed the hungry or any of those things. But she was freed from fear. Lauri walked as steadily and surely towards death as any I’ve ever seen. She did so with grace and assurance. She had no idea what was coming next, but she was not anxious. She was assured that the same God who had loved her completely in this world would somehow care for her in the next. She trusted that Holy Spirit of Love to parent her grown children when she was no longer able to do so. As I watched Lauri die I was reminded of the words we heard today from Isaiah, “God gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for God shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.”

Lauri died with grace and dignity, fully assured that she was a beloved child of God.  I don’t know about you, but, truly, when I think of my big life goals, dying well is right up there at the top of the list. Lauri died well. She was free.

As I pondered this concept of being freed for ministry this past week, I found myself wondering what we might be freed for as a congregation. What are we being called to do together?

I talked to Pastor Kent earlier this week on the phone. For those of you who are newer to the congregation, Kent was the pastor here from 2000 to 2011. I told Kent how thankful I was for his competent ministry here and that so many of you speak of him often and fondly. I told him how much I admire his strength. When Kent was called here, there was controversy because Kent is openly gay. We lost some members over that decision and I am sure it was a painful experience for everyone involved. It was a brave decision that the church made. I’m fairly certain Kent was the first openly-gay pastor of any Christian church in Kansas. I can’t imagine that there would have been another before us, right?

So when Kent was called there was a healing that had to take place afterwards. The congregation had to find a way to pick back up, find restoration, and re-orient ourselves towards the ministry we were called to offer the world. And one of the things we discovered in the midst of that was that we are called to be an open and affirming church. We are freed from fear and anxiety about being a little bit “out there” and different than other churches in town. And we are freed for proclaiming a gospel of radical inclusiveness….that God’s love is bigger than we could fathom.

One of the things that happens to those of us who have been in Open and Affirming churches for a while is that we forget just how radical this is. I have the privilege of being reminded because I all-too-frequently have the opportunity to sit with people who have been deeply wounded by other churches. I listen to people tearfully tell me about outright abuse they have faced as gay, lesbian, or bisexual people in the church. I hear stories of how parents and siblings and grandparents have disowned one of their own family members because that person is transgender….and all in the name of Jesus, of course.

It makes me feel really sad and angry and disgusted and horrified. And then I get to do what I always do when I meet with one of these people. I look them right in the eyes and I say, “I want you to hear me say this. I am saying it in the name of Jesus Christ. There is nothing wrong with your sexuality or gender identity. You are God’s beloved child and God is well-pleased with you. And there are churches like ours that will love you just as you are. You don’t have to change a thing.”

It doesn’t undo every hurt that’s ever been done to them in the name of Jesus. Not at all. But I want you to know how very important it is that we are offering these words of love together. They are words of healing. They are a balm. And they are offered from our church to the world around us because we have been freed for this work together. It is one of the many things we are called to do as a congregation.

So when I read this passage, I find myself dreaming about what else we might be freed for.  I wonder….where are the other people and places that need to be transformed? How else can we participate in healing ourselves and the world around us? If Jesus were here today and healed us, what might we jump up and do?

After the service today, you are invited to stay for a brief service of healing. I’ve recruited several people from our congregation to be present and pray with you. Bob wil lstay and bless us with some quiet music. You can talk to one of our healers and tell them what ails you. You can be assured it will be held in confidence...they may tell me about it, but no one else will need to know. Remember, healing is not the same as a cure. But these healers from our own congregation come to you in the name of Jesus, prepared to offer you prayer and a healing touch. It is our deepest hope that you will leave this place knowing that Christ walks with you, transforming you into the person you were made to be. Freeing you from whatever ails you and freeing you for the life you are called to live.

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[i] http://www.davidlose.net/2015/02/epiphany-5-b-freedom-for/

"Honored and Rebuked"

Mark 1:21-28

Sunday, February 1, 2015

First Congregational United Church of Christ – Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

Have you ever been possessed?

Don’t worry. You don’t have to answer that out loud. But I have been thinking a lot about the things that possess us this past week. Our passage from the Gospel of Mark is all about Jesus removing an unclean spirit from a man during a worship service. I have to say, I feel thankful this is not anything that’s ever happened to me while I was preaching. But it happened to Jesus. He was teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum when, all of a sudden, an unclean spirit that had possessed a man made a loud noise, disrupting the service.

I don’t pretend to know what you might think about unclean spirits or demon possession. My guess is, you probably don’t think about them too often at all. They aren’t particularly popular topics in our society. But they are all over the place in the Bible. Seems to me we have to deal with them.

Back in Jesus’s time, people got sick, just like they do now. They became physically ill – run-of-the-mill colds, cancer, skin diseases, the flu….all that same stuff. Just like us. And people were mentally ill – depression, bipolar disorder, anxiety, dissociative disorder, eating disorders, PTSD….all that same stuff. Just like us.

The difference, of course, is that we understand health and illness in very different ways now. People in the ancient world didn’t have the ability to look inside their bodies at tiny cell structures. They couldn’t examine the brain the same way we can. They couldn’t measure hormones, look at neural pathways. They didn’t do controlled laboratory experiments. In Jesus’s time they mostly thought illness came from God – often as some kind of punishment for bad behavior – or it came from forces of evil that weren’t well-understood.

Nowadays we recognize that there are a lot of things we still don’t understand about physical and mental illness, but most of us don’t think of health setbacks as being heaven-sent or the result of our bad behavior. And yet – stigma persists. Especially when it comes to mental illness and it’s close cousin, addiction. Many are still embarrassed to seek the help they so desperately need. Many are ashamed to talk about their experiences with mental illness and addiction.

Please hear me loud and clear when I say this: physical illness, mental illness, addiction do not come from God or from a demon. Not at all.

And yet – I find the language used in these ancient texts of possession to be very accurate in describing the effects of illness and addiction.

I am assuming that virtually all of us in this room have encountered addiction or mental illness in an up-close-and-personal way. We have either struggled ourselves or someone in our family or a dear friend has struggled. Those struggles often look a lot like possession to me. Something we don’t really understand appears to take over a person we love dearly and we can’t figure out how to get them back.

I remember so clearly what it felt like when I was struggling with a bout of anxiety and depression about a decade ago. I had been walking through this nasty cycle of anxiety and general malaise for months. I was kind of a wreck – crying in the bathroom at work, sick to my stomach every day.  I remember explaining to David at one point that I felt like I was underwater. Or like there was this thick curtain just kind of shrouding me. I knew that the real Caela was under there somewhere, but I couldn’t quite seem to find her. It was like this giant gulf separated me from the world around me. And though I tried really, really hard I just couldn’t break free. I couldn’t find my way back to myself. It was the worst feeling I’ve ever had in my life. And it was terrifying. It felt like I was possessed by something I could not control.

I wonder if that’s how the man in the sanctuary in Capernaum felt. We don’t know much about him. Just that he showed up for worship that day and cried out because the spirit that possessed him made him do so. I think it’s important to notice that Jesus does not condemn the man in any way. Instead, he speaks directly to the spirit that possesses him. But first, we are told that he rebukes the spirit. Only I’m not so sure that’s a perfect translation. The Greek word there is epitimao and the primary definition of that word is to honor. Rebuke or censure is more like the third one down on the list of definitions.

What if, instead of rebuking the spirit, Jesus honored it before telling it to come out of the man and leave him alone? I feel like honoring those things that possess us is a hugely important step in freeing ourselves. We all know that the first step in any 12 Step Program, like Alcoholics Anonymous is to admit that there is a problem. From the AA Big Book, “Step One: We admitted that we were powerless over alcohol, that our lives had become unmanageable.”

That’s giving honor to the addiction. Taking it seriously. I felt like I had to do that same thing when I was living with depression. I had to get to the point where I could say, “You know, this is a serious problem. Something is really not right and I want to figure out how I can get some help.”

The first thing Jesus did was honor the spirit and take it seriously. The next thing he did was tell it to come out of the man and leave him alone.

Wouldn’t it be nice if it was that simple? If Jesus was here with us in the room and could just tell our fears, our sense of unworthiness, our obsession with consuming, our anger, our PTSD, our addition to drugs, alcohol, food, praise, gambling, technology….wouldn’t it be great if Jesus was here and could just tell all of that to go away and leave us alone?

I want to tell you something. I believe Jesus can help. I don’t fully understand how, but I do believe that God has a way of working through Jesus to free us from those things that possess us.

I think it absolutely makes sense to do all those other good things, too – go to 12 step meetings, don’t miss them! Call your sponsor every day. Get a great therapist – a great therapist can be the Word of God incarnate, pushing you and supporting you in all of the best ways. Take your medication – and don’t be ashamed. You wouldn’t be embarrassed about taking antibiotics, right? Same goes with the medication you need for your mental well-being. Eat right, exercise, sleep well, surround yourself with friends and family who will listen to you, love you unconditionally, and pick you back up off the floor when you fall down again and again.

AND, in the midst of all of those things, don’t forget about Jesus. Because Jesus is a healer. There are too many stories of Jesus healing for me to believe it could be any other way.

I think we can learn a lot from the way each gospel writer begins their story. In Matthew, Jesus’s first public act is the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus is the great teacher. In Luke, Jesus is the one come to set the captives free, to proclaim liberty to the oppressed. He sides with those who have been marginalized. In John, he begins his ministry with a miracle of abundance. Turns water into wine at a wedding. He is the one who comes that we might have life, and have it abundantly.

And in Mark? In Mark, Jesus’s first act is an exorcism during worship. He is the one who has come to disrupt the world. He is not afraid of conflict. He is ready to confront the powers that possess us, head-on. He comes as one with authority. The authority to break the world wide open, expose our deepest struggles and remind us that they do not define us.

He speaks directly to the spirit and tells it to leave the man alone. He sees past the spirit, to the beloved child of God that is there just below the façade. He speaks words of love, words of power, words of encouragement, reminding us all who we are.

We are the beloved, with whom God is well-pleased. And nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus – not depression, not schizophrenia, not OCD, not eating disorders, not addiction in all its varied and awful forms. We are more than the things that possess us.

We may be a little broken, yes, but we are being made whole. With Christ’s help. Each and every day. Thanks be to God.