Jesus Everywhere!
Around Christmastime, we sometimes need to emphasize to children that Jesus is not watching their every move with scrutiny like the popular tales of Santa Claus, but is rather an accompanying presence that they can always turn to no matter if they feel happy or sad.
This Sunday I shared that the resurrected Jesus’ accompanying presence (and/or watchful eye) really was everywhere – at least that was certainly the case in my office!
After an anniversary trip with Paul, I walked into my office last Sunday morning to see a circle of 12 tiny Jesuses on my desk, communing around a tealight candle. Additional Jesuses were ‘sitting’ in each of the chairs in the office, holding a meeting. I laughed, recognizing these tiny Jesus figurines from the youth Easter egg hunt where each one was placed in an egg that could be redeemed for prizes. They must have had a few extra that they arranged in my office during those hazy post-Easter days.
I went about the early morning as I usually do, praying for those who would soon be entering the doors or logging onto the stream, listing the day’s check-ins to ensure folks were supported in their Sunday tasks, and gathering up the various papers I’d need throughout the day.
That’s when I noticed: Jesus was everywhere.
In planters, topping mementos, perched on every picture and door frame, inside communion chalices and desk lamps. Tiny, resurrected Christs watching my every move!
(There are over a dozen tiny Jesuses in these photos. Can you spot them?)
I laughed even more. What a joyful reminder that this Sunday was not business as usual; we are Easter people! Signs of Christ and the power of the resurrection are all around us (really, aaaaall around).
The best of all is that the signs of our life in a resurrection world are not limited to the nooks and crannies of the senior pastor’s office. They really are everywhere.
While holding the many difficult things that our local church, our community, and our country are wrestling with, I am so grateful that we also see signs of resurrection hope that can pluck our spirits from the thorny thicket of fear or mud of despair. Each place of hope is a reminder that we can keep going, each space of resurrection a nudge toward life and light.
As we have discussed since last fall and with the latest communication just before Holy Week, this year represents a challenge for how creatively we can staff our ministry and fundraise to fill the gaps. This opportunity feels more daunting some days than others. As we crunch numbers, brainstorm ideas, and make cost-saving or revenue-generating changes, little spots of hope always peek out throughout the month. One spot of hope from this week is your own generosity: through the Easter Offering you raised $8,353, surpassing our budgeted goal by 15%! We are thankful for your generosity in every season, especially for gifts like the Easter Offering that are over and above your pledged giving. A little spot of hope.
Beyond the dollars and cents, I see spots of hope all around our community- signs and reassurances that we do live in a resurrection world. This means that where there is difficulty and challenge, there is also the chance for new life and joy.
I see resurrection hope in celebrations of the one-year anniversary of The United Methodist Church removing the Book of Discipline’s exclusionary language. This change moved our denomination one step closer to the celebration of our queer siblings in Christ.
I see resurrection hope when I witness our new and newly arranged staff not only finding their own voice and vision with our faith community, but also thriving alongside you.
I see resurrection hope when hundreds of folks in our own church and the greater community descended upon the grounds for Easter egg hunt and potlucking connections– with more than enough to feed our guests and excellent volunteer teams to host it all.
I see resurrection hope when lay leaders, Parish Conference, and Ministry Conference thoughtfully wrestle with our responsibility to the immigrant and the particularly vulnerable in our midst.
I see resurrection hope when I feel the palpable joy of Portland coming alive on a sunny day, sidewalks no longer deserted or deemed unsafe.
I see resurrection hope in each person who continues to witness to their faith through civic action in the places where it matters.
I see resurrection hope in the meaningful relationships that have developed with members, volunteers, and pantry guests at the Lift UP food pantry.
I see resurrection hope. Do you?
I’d love to hear where.
In hope and gratitude,
Pastor Karyn