Listen Now

I begin every morning by asking Siri to tell me the news, and every news report begins with the war in Ukraine. I hear of attacks on "humanitarian corridors," peace talks that never produce fruit, the bombing of civilians, and sanctions that seem to move too slowly. I wish I could tell you that I follow every news report with a time of prayer on my knees, but I confess that many times I shake my head and wonder when it will all be over. And then I come to Jesus' words, "Blessed are the peacemakers." As I hear Jesus, I realize if I'm looking for peacemakers in embassies and bunkers, I'm looking in the wrong places. So instead, I look to the families caring for enemy soldiers, giving them water and food, and letting them use their cellphones to call home. Peacemaking doesn't happen between nations, but one-on-one, friend-to-friend, as we display the image of God for those who would be our enemies and seek His image in the same. None of this is easy, of course, and there are mornings when the news leaves me feeling less than charitable. But, nothing Jesus says should make us think it's an easy blessing. "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God." We have only to stop and consider what happened to the actual Son of God to realize this blessing will cost us. But when we consider what we have gained from his sacrifice, we know the cost is worth it.

The words "mother" and "mercy" seem to go together naturally. I see the connection as I watch my daughter hold my granddaughter; I see it as I watch Trish get Connor ready for school in the mornings. For many, mothers are their first experience of the blessing of mercy. But, in a parable where Jesus explained what mercy looks like, he didn't choose a mother as the merciful one but a complete stranger. Jesus reminds us that we don't only show mercy to family members or those we have a relationship with. Instead, mercy is a gift given to the one in need of it.

There was a commercial on TV when I was a child. I don't remember what they were selling, but it was a scene of an old well pump on a farm and a voice reciting Matthew 5:6, "Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled." Whenever the commercial came on, I would think, "I don't know what righteousness is, but it must be hard work. You're hungry and thirsty after you're done doing it!" I was right, just not for the reasons my young mind thought; righteousness is exhausting! Seeking God's "right rule" for ourselves and those around us can wear us out. It is seeking freedom for the oppressed, lifting up those who have been mowed down by the world, offering comfort to the hurting, and showing mercy to the desperate. All of this while seeking a "right relationship with God" for ourselves. Such a pursuit would wear us out if it weren't for Jesus' promise, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied." Thirst quenched, hunger sated; that is the promise of this blessing.

I just did a quick search on Twitter for "#Blessed." Among the results were: - A pool party for someone's grandson. - Before and after pictures from a diet. - The results of a soccer match. - And someone was celebrating finally hitting 500 followers on Twitter. #blessed indeed! When we count our blessings, we calculate the positive things that lift us up and make us feel valued—and we should! But how does our #blessed list stack up against Jesus' list? "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." I seldom see Jesus' idea of blessings hashtagged and celebrated on social media. Jesus' list sounds painful! Like if they don't bless you, they'll kill you! In this message, we begin exploring the Beatitudes, the blessings Jesus offers to those who follow him. As we do, we may have to redefine what a blessed life looks like to us.

"That which is of first importance." It's buttoning the top button so the others line up correctly. It's the flight check before take-off. It's the surgeon marking the spot for surgery. When we put that which is of first importance first, everything else falls in line. In 1 Corinthians 15:3, Paul writes, "For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received." He then details the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. When we put first things first, everything else falls in line."That which is of first importance." It's buttoning the top button so the others line up correctly. It's the flight check before take-off. It's the surgeon marking the spot for surgery. When we put that which is of first importance first, everything else falls in line. In 1 Corinthians 15:3, Paul writes, "For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received." He then details the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. When we put first things first, everything else falls in line.

"Hosanna!" It's an ancient word that meant "Save me!" If a fisherman fell overboard, he would shout, "Hosanna!" with his last few breaths, hoping to be saved. The fact that the crowds welcoming Jesus into Jerusalem shouted "Hosanna!" ought to remind us that the Easter story is not for people who've got it all together. It's for the hurting, hopeless, and those barely holding on. The Easter story is for people who need a Savior.

I was driving home the other day when I noticed it again. As the utility poles passed by, I couldn't help but catch the shape of the cross. Has that happened to you? Maybe you see the cross in the panels of a door, the mast of a ship, or just two pieces of wood that happen to fall together right. Something within us seems drawn to the cross; its image is ever before us. In a moment of wry humor, we might even call it our "cross-eyed view." I believe it's born out of our desire to see Jesus at the center of everything in our lives. As we draw near him, the story of the cross and his resurrection pull at us, changing how we view our world, the people around us, and ourselves. We see hints of his presence everywhere. We're spending a few weeks looking at Easter Stories as we lead up to our celebration of the resurrection, finding stories that point to the cross and new life in the Bible and the lives of our friends. All the while, the image of Jesus comes into sharper focus for us.

A friend of mine called to tell me of a possible cancer diagnosis he was facing. He said he felt far from God and wondered if he should read through the book of Job in the Bible. Of course, when we think of Job, we think of his suffering and patience. But what of Job's hope? And what of his Easter?

As a child, I never understood what the fuss of Easter was about. I simply accepted that once a year, we colored eggs, there was chocolate, and a basket with a few gifts showed up. Oh, and there was that Easter grass . . . that stuff got everywhere! As I grew into faith, Easter took on meaning. I remember the first Easter after I said "yes" to Jesus. I attended all the services: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, even Sunrise (I had no idea God got up that early)! Then, after I came home, I opened my Bible and read each Gospel's resurrection story. I remember thinking, "This changes everything." I believe it still does. The Easter story changes our stories. As we lead up to Easter, we're looking through the Bible to find Easter stories in unusual places (not just at the ends of the Gospels). We're also going to be hearing our own stories and seeing how the Easter story has brought new life to us.

I never realized the phrase "thoughts and prayers" was viewed with disdain by some people. But, of course, it's easy for me to get defensive about that—prayer has become my first response to tragedy. The problem is, for many of us, prayer is also our last response. We're seldom moved beyond prayer to sacrifice, give, and reach out to those who are hurting. We don't give "thoughts and prayers" a second thought. I feel the conviction of that. And, of course, some question what good prayer does anyway. Does prayer change anything? While we can tell stories of miraculous answers to prayer, we honestly have to tell the stories of when we prayed, and nothing changed. In fact, we need look no further than the Bible and the story of Jesus pleading with the Father to let the cross pass him by, to realize that prayer doesn't always change things. So what do thoughts and prayers do? C. S. Lewis once wrote, "I pray because I can't help myself. I pray because I'm helpless. I pray because the need flows out of me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God. It changes me." I think that's the place for all of us to begin with our "thoughts and prayers." If we plead with God to change our circumstances, we should be willing to receive his grace when he chooses to change us.

One of the first things I remember being taught as a child was my home address. I could rattle it off perfectly long before I started school. My parents thought it was vital to know my address if I ever got lost. Chances are someone who loved you taught you The Lord's Prayer a long time ago. They wanted you to know it by heart for those moments when you needed to pray and even needed to find your way back home. The Lord's Prayer gave you a place to begin a lifelong conversation with your Heavenly Father.

It's been a tough week for me. First, some difficult decisions have led to significant changes at Lincoln Christian University, a place I dearly love. Lincoln has been a massive part of my life and faith, and I find myself grieving. On top of that, the news from Ukraine has me praying for peace but anticipating the worst and concerned about those who find themselves in harm's way. I recognize within myself a tendency to pretend everything is ok. I anticipate that, at some point today, someone will ask, "How are you?" and I will very likely say, "Fine!" But I'm not fine. What makes it so hard for us to be honest with each other? Are we any better at being honest with God? When Jesus taught us how to pray, he included confession as a vital part of the way we communicate with God. "Forgive us our debts." Or is it, "Forgive us our trespasses?" When we tell God we have deficits in our character, and that we have stepped into places we didn't belong, we recognize all the more our need for his grace. Confession truly is good for the soul.

Norwegian preacher, teacher, and theologian Ole Kristian Hallesby was not known as a man who backed down from his beliefs. He spent two years in a concentration camp for speaking out against the Nazi occupation of Norway. The strength that sustained him was not found in his intellect or personal convictions. Instead, it was found in the time he spent in prayer. He wrote, "Prayer is the conduit through which power from heaven is brought to earth." I think it's essential to see that downward flow of prayer—from heaven to earth. It isn't only about us making our requests known to God; it's about how the conduit of prayer reveals the character of God within us. Before prayer changes our circumstances, it changes us.

6.5 million dollars will buy you a thirty-second commercial during tonight's Super Bowl. You can bet that at 6.5 million, every word has been carefully chosen for impact and engagement. We will talk about some of those ads for weeks to come. In Matthew 6:7, Jesus warns of those who, in their prayers, believe they will be "heard for their many words." While they would not have understood the value of 6.5 million dollars, they did believe their words were valuable, and the more words used, the better chance they had of getting Gods' attention. Jesus instead reminds us that God's attention is already on us. "The Father knows what you need before you ask him" (Matthew 6:8). So take heart; you are worth more than many Super Bowl ads.

The word for the day is “Labyrinthine.” It is the tendency to make things overly complicated or convoluted. I love that “Labyrinthine” does exactly what it defines! It’s quite anfractuous, don’t you think? Preachers tend to make things far more labyrinthine than necessary (See what I mean?). We add unnecessary complications to faith and following Jesus. We even have ways to complicate prayer! But, when the disciples asked Jesus to teach them to pray, he didn’t confuse them or overload them with information. Instead, he gave them a prayer and told them some stories.

Jerry Seinfeld once noted that most people's number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. This means that the average funeral attendee would feel more comfortable being the person in the casket than the person delivering the eulogy. Moses would have preferred the casket. In Exodus 4:10, he cries out to God, "I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue." There's something familiar to me in Moses' words. I've heard many people tell God what they can't do, but I've also witnessed what happens when they overcome that fear and serve anyway. I've listened to amazing messages from people who told me they couldn't speak, heard heartfelt prayers from those who told me they couldn't pray out loud, and seen God's grace poured out on those who simply said "yes" to him. Before we tell God what we can't do, we should take note of what he can do through us—any of us. That's what God confronts in Moses before he leaves the burning bush. If we listen carefully, we can hear his call for us and his promises as well.

Carolyn “Sue” Parker, age 78, of Kansas, IL passed away at 2:50 p.m. on Wednesday, January 19, 2022 at The Gibson Family Center for Hospice Care, Terre Haute, IN after a long, hard-fought battle with frontotemporal dementia. She was born on October 30, 1943 in Union Center, IL, the daughter of Roy Clifford Black & Edith Fern Black (Lilly). On April 21, 1962 she married the love of her life, Terry Fredric Parker, in Morris, IL. Survivors include her husband of nearly 60 years, Terry Fredric Parker of Kansas, IL; children, Charles Rodney Parker (Sherry) of Greenup, IL, Terry Douglas Parker (Lisa) of Kansas, IL; Wendy Sue Fuller (Donovan) of Bigfork, MT; John Wesley Parker (Delana) of Kansas, IL; grandchildren, Dustin Charles Parker (Morgan) of Wahpeton, ND; Hayden Douglas Parker (Chelsey) of Bloomington, IL; Dakotah LeAnn Shelton (Liam) of Fort Riley, KS; Dalton James Parker (Paige) of Toledo, IL; Hampton Allen Parker & Bryce Declan Parker of Kansas, IL; Akaiyan Leigh Fuller & Kinnerly Sue Fuller of Bigfork, MT; great grandchildren, Adalynn, Lucas, & Elliot Parker of Wahpeton, ND; Mason Parker of Bloomington, IL; GraceLynn & Oliver Parker of Toledo, IL; sister in law, DeAnn Parker (Bob Lasley) of Princeton, IN and many nephews and nieces. She was preceded in death by her parents, siblings (Leland Black, William (Bill) Reet Black, Mary Morecraft, Virginia Rose Carl, Kenneth Black, Harold Lee Black, Larry Dean Black), and granddaughter, Kintla Leigh Fuller. Sue was a graduate of Casey High School. She was a beloved wife and stay-at-home mom until her children were in school and then put her caregiving gifts to work as a teacher’s aide to children at Eastern Illinois Area of Special Education. Sue treasured spending time with her family and hosted countless family events and Sunday/holiday dinners that are precious memories for her children and grandchildren. She enjoyed attending church, weekly coffee chats with her friends, arts/crafts, and shopping and operated a resale business (P&S Rummage) in Kansas, IL with her longtime friend Nila Seales. She attended church at Kansas Christian Church in Illinois and United Church of God in West Terre Haute, Indiana.

Parents ask a question that prompts an almost universal response in children. You witness a toddler holding a strange item, and you ask, “What’s that in your hand?” A heartbeat later, the toddler takes off running! I remember for Megan, that item was often the television remote; for Connor, it’s more than likely a fork full of food. Either way, ask, “What’s that in your hand?” and the chase is on! There’s no way they’re giving their prize up without a fight! So in Exodus 4, after Moses has given God his excuses for why he cannot be the right choice to lead his people out of Egypt, God asks the same question of Moses. “What’s that in your hand?” But unlike your toddler, Moses is already on the run. He’s out here in the wilderness because he’s run away from his failure and shame. Still, God knows what he’s carrying can be useful. So, what’s in your hand? What are you carrying? When God asks that question, do you run away from him or run to him? Today we’ll look at Moses’ story and hear God’s call for us to run to him and trust him with whatever is in our hands.

It seems to have become a daily occurrence on Facebook. You sign in and find a friend request from someone who is already a friend. What do you do? Delete it, report it to Facebook, or send a message to your actual friend asking, "Is this really you?" In Exodus 3, Moses encounters God at the burning bush. In verse 13, he asks a question that's akin to, "Is this really you?" He asks God for his name. "Do I really know you? Can I trust you?" Maybe you've wanted to ask God the same question. Can I really trust that you're who you say you are? Can I really trust that you care? God responds not just with his name but with his name forever. In other words, if Moses could trust he was there, then we can trust he's there for us as well.

Are you familiar with "Imposter Syndrome?" It's that little voice inside your head that loves to tell you, "you're a fake, a phony, and one day everyone is going to figure you out. You can't fool them forever." Do you ever hear that voice inside your head? I love what Adam Grant says about Imposter Syndrome. "Imposter syndrome is a paradox. Others believe in you but you don't believe in yourself. Yet, you believe yourself instead of them. If you doubt yourself, shouldn't you also doubt your judgment of yourself? When multiple people believe in you, it might be time to believe them." Read that again, slowly. You probably need to hear it. When God encountered Moses through the burning bush and told him his plan to use Moses to set his people free, Moses' first question was, "Who am I?" In other words, "God, what makes you think I'm competent? I'm a failure, a phony, and everyone has figured me out." When we hear Moses' question, we hear something of our own self-doubt. And just like Moses, we need to hear God answer back, "But I am with you."