confession

Sunday’s Sermon – On Trial – Isaiah 1:1, 10-20

August 11, 2019 Leave a Comment

“May it please the court.” Though not in every case, these words often begin courtroom proceedings. Throughout high school and college, they were part of a standard for the mock trial teams I was on as we addressed the fictitious courtroom in competitions. They established a rhythm and guided us into the argument. This morning, as we approach our text from Isaiah, it’s appropriate to parallel it with the patterns of our legal justice system, for the verses we find in this chapter are just that: a courtroom scene.

Isaiah 1:1 is essentially the “May it please the court.” It is the introduction that locates this prophet within a certain place and time. Namely, that this is a vision given to a particular person from Judah, the southern kingdom of God’s people, during the reign of particular kings, making the historical timeline around the 8^th century B.C.E. From this we know a bit more about how to locate this text among the first hearers of its message:

The Assyrian campaign of 701 BCE has left Judah devastated. The nation is sick. From head to toe, the body does not have a single healthy, sound spot. . . Only Jerusalem is left, and that city’s condition is tenuous[i].

To these people of God comes Isaiah, whose name is a combination of the root words in Hebrew for God and salvation, and can roughly be translated to mean “God has saved” or “God will save.” From the start, we get a sense that his prophecy will include a recurring theme of God’s saving sovereignty over history and all the nations. And indeed it does. These parallels are why it is such a meaningful book in the Hebrew scriptures for us as Christians who believe that Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of the prophecies for the coming of the Messiah. What might seem just a cursory introduction verse for us actually tells us quite a bit about what we will hear next. The verses that follow are like the prosecutor’s opening statement, telling us what to look for in the evidence that will be presented. They illustrate the prophet’s passion for God’s message of salvation as well as God’s concern for justice, laying the groundwork for the beautiful and challenging poetry that will come.

With the stage set, the prophet launches into the brutal honesty of the facts. Verses 2-9, which are skipped in the lectionary, present some harsh evidence about what my study bible labels “the wickedness of Judah.” The charges are read, if you will. A courtroom parallel might be that these are pre-trial stipulations. That is, that both sides have agreed that a certain set of statements are true. In the case of God vs. the people of Judah, the picture looks pretty bleak from the start.

Verses 10-20 unleash God’s response. To get a sense of what he’s saying, hear again part of this passage as it’s relayed in Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase:

Quit your worship charades.
I can’t stand your trivial religious games:
Monthly conferences, weekly Sabbaths, special meetings—
meetings, meetings, meetings—I can’t stand one more!
Meetings for this, meetings for that. I hate them!
You’ve worn me out!
I’m sick of your religion, religion, religion,
while you go right on sinning.
When you put on your next prayer-performance,
    I’ll be looking the other way.
No matter how long or loud or often you pray,
    I’ll not be listening

And do you know why? Because you’ve been tearing
    people to pieces, and your hands are bloody [ii].

Yikes. This is a tough message to swallow. This, in some ways, is the point. Isaiah presents a powerful and scathing message, meant to jar listeners to change their behaviors. And for those of us sitting in the sanctuary for worship this week, with no less than THREE committee meetings on our calendar of events, we might be shifting in our seats in a bit of uneasiness or even outright shock, wondering if we have parallels with the 8^th century BCE after all. Those places of uneasiness, I think, are the Spirit that encourages us to examine and critique our own lives, so that we might grow to be more faithful.

As we consider this text in relation to our lives today, though, we might get hung up on one of the things that Isaiah identifies as being particularly problematic – the unworthy sacrifices being offered that God rejects. As Christians, we tend to not have a good understanding of their role in ancient Jewish practice, so Anna Case-Winters offers us a quick summary to catch up. She notes that:

There are different kinds of offerings. Some are understood purely as gifts to God. Peace offerings are meant to signal a reconciled relation with God. Other offerings are intended as expiation for breaches of ritual committed in ignorance. Forgiveness of other kinds of wrongs or wrongs done knowingly is never related to sacrifice, but is dependent upon repentance and confession. There is no understanding of divine forgiveness being “purchased” by sacrifice (propitiation)[iii].

In other words, the sacrifices and offerings that the people were making comprised a majority of the same components that we address with our acts of worship: our offering of praise and thanksgiving through hymns and affirmations of faith; our reflections on the Scripture, and yes, the admission of our shortfalls with confession. The issue here is not that the people of God have missed something they were supposed to be doing in order to receive God’s favor. God doesn’t work on a system of quid pro quo. Forgiveness is always the gracious act of God, even in the Hebrew scriptures. However, it seems that God’s people have tried to make it this way.

The priests in Jerusalem had been highly successful in increasing religious display. They apparently taught the people that the more sacrifices they made, the greater the chance that their desires would be grated. The fatter the animal, the better the reward[iv].

The people of Judah have been attempting to manipulate God’s goodness and favor with sacrificial offerings, as if God could be bought or bribed. And when this becomes what happens, the sacrifices become less about God, and more about the self-centered people who offer them.

We hear similar messages in Psalm 50, and also in Amos, Hosea, and Micah. All push against the offering of sacrifices or other worship rituals done for show or simply done out of obligation. They insist that they are idle exercises unless true change happens within. Put quite simply, the prophetic witness tells God’s people, over and over again, that our faith is not just about going through the motions and doing all the right steps or saying the right things. It has to be about something more.

Isaiah is calling out the people of Judah’s hypocrisy. What he has observed is that even those claiming to be the most pious have gotten caught up in the pageantry and display of worship, or of going through the motions, and have lost sight of the relationship that their worship has to their lives and their hearts. What really is “on trial” here, then, is not so much the methodologies of sacrifice and worship practices, but the hearts of the worshipers themselves. Isaiah is not suggesting that we not worship. But rather, that we pay better attention to our lives outside of the sanctuary; because what happens in the world shouldn’t be separate from what happens in our worship. That separation is what is so offensive to the prophet and to God.

We can’t simply go through the motions and assume that everything will be magically right with the world. Our worship, in order to be pleasing to God, must be linked with the lives we live. When it isn’t, our faith is emptyhanded. In the wake of yet another round of mass shootings, there has been sharp critique for those who offer “thoughts and prayers” to those experiencing tragedy in El Paso and Dayton. Every time I hear someone blow off genuine expressions of sympathy I get pretty cranky. After all, as a Christian, I believe we are indeed called to pray for those who are struggling. Last week, I heartbreakingly read the names of countless cities who had been impacted by gun violence with multiple victims; a staggering list in just one week’s time, with 2 major stories in the 24 hours preceding our worship. In times of tragedy and fear and terrorism, sometimes the only thing we can think to do is pray. And that is a good and faithful response. But the thing is; prayer can’t just be the only thing we do. If we truly take Isaiah’s words to heart, we must consider that our prayers beckon us into real, tangible action in the world. Otherwise, they are offered up almost in vain and leave us emptyhanded with a hollow faith.

This text convicts the parts of us that try to separate our lives to the point that we end up with “Sunday morning selves” and “rest of the week selves.” Not good enough, says the prophet. If we want to truly worship and offer ourselves to God, we have to do the work outside of these walls, too. This is the work of the people of God. In our communion prayers we ask that we be living and holy sacrifices. That means we are committed to being a part of God’s work in the world, not just thinking or praying about God doing it. Fortunately, Isaiah gives a pretty good listing of ways in which we can marry the two. As The Message puts it:

Say no to wrong.
    Learn to do good.
Work for justice.
    Help the down-and-out.
Stand up for the homeless.
    Go to bat for the defenseless[v]

It is when we do these things that we live into the covenant God created with us.

When it comes to a trial, the general advice is that the attorney should always end by asking the judge or jury for the verdict they desire, so that is the final thought. In Isaiah 1, God’s final word is not one of condemnation, but one of grace. “Come, let us argue it out,” God says, inviting us into reconciling conversation. The verb in this verse even:

comes from the language of the law court, and it refers to the kind of discourse that results in the disclosure of the truth[vi].

But rather than a dramatic trial in which God takes all of our offerings and shows how flimsy they really are, God offers words of promise and reconciliation. Nothing is beyond God’s redemption. In fact, God can and will transform everything into its pure state. Here, God shifts from prosecutor into arbiter, offering a path to forgiveness. God offers grace. It is not a cheap grace, but grace offered in the midst of our mess, from one who longs for us to be rehabilitated and restored once again.

This passage puts our lives, even and especially our spiritual lives “on trial” from start to finish. Isaiah deftly navigates the complexities of the lives of the people of Judah, and us today, with a beautiful poetry that weaves together a tight and concise case. The evidence is overwhelming; the offenses made clear. His words should prompt, then, a sharp examination of ourselves up against the vision God has for us as God’s own people, during which we likely discover the many ways in which we fall short and screw things up. But then comes the final offer of proof and request not for a punishment, but for reconciliation and the opportunity to turn things around. God is not finished with God’s people yet. Would we dare to accept this as the verdict?

That is the question left to the people of Judah, and to us today. Knowing of God’s displeasure with some of our choices and simultaneous desire to be in relationship with us to right these wrongs into a new way of living, how will we respond?

~Sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, August 11, 2019

____________________________________________________________________________________________________
[i] Gary W. Light, Isaiah, Interpretation Bible Studies, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001).
[ii] Eugene Peterson, The Message.
[iii] Anna Case-Winters, “Theological Perspective: Isaiah 1:1, 10-20,” Feasting on the Word: Year C, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010)
[iv] Gary W. Light, Isaiah, Interpretation Bible Studies, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001).
[v] Eugene Peterson, The Message.
[vi] Charles B. Cousar, Beverly R. Gaventa, J. Clinton McCann, James D. Newsome, “Proper 14” Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary based on the NRSV – Year C, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994)

Ash Wednesday Sermon – Selfies – Psalm 51:1-17

March 6, 2019 Leave a Comment

Selfies. If you are on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram, you have no doubt seen thousands of these images. And they aren’t just from teenagers. From celebrities to your neighbors down the street, selfies are everywhere. It has become an art form unto itself, transitioning from photos made in a bathroom mirror to those taken at creative angles in perfect lighting. There is a certain vanity associated with selfies, and naturally we want to look our best. What used to require time with Photoshop or other software can now be done in your smartphone. After the photo is taken, we can tinker with it, applying filters and special effects, text and other features to catch the eye. All of these possibilities are tempting, of course, because we want selfies to be impressive and garner comments and “likes” from our friends and fans. In fact, our obsession with this has gone so far that some people have two accounts on social media platforms like Instagram: their public Instagram, with those carefully crafted lifestyle images, and a private, “finsta” account, which stands for “fake Instagram,” and is a place you can just be unfiltered and silly for your friends, without pressure for likes or followers. Now, before you write this off as only being a trend with the younger generation, think about your own “outtakes.” Not every photo you take becomes one to go on the literal walls of your living room or on a Christmas card. The reality is our selfies and pictures, or whatever else we share with the world, are usually carefully curated to put our literal best face forward, in hopes that others will be impressed.

But Rev. Barbara J. Essex reminds us that “Although we can make ourselves look flawless in a selfie, we can’t fool ourselves into thinking that it’s an accurate depiction of real life[i].” Behind each well-composed selfie, there are the outtakes, sometimes a bit more true to who we really are. These are often rejected or deleted images, concealing the flaws we try to hide. But even our best filtered tricks won’t make them disappear from reality. Essex reminds us that while we live in a world of selfies now, the appeal to vanity is timeless. She suggests that, given the opportunity in biblical times, David would have been the king of selfies[ii]. As he rose into power, so did his ego. The story of David goes well beyond the shy boy with the sling who took out Goliath. As an adult, we see David making bold decisions, most of which raise a few eyebrows. Psalm 51, which we read just a few moments ago, is often considered his confession, with a preceding note in many Bibles that reads something to the effect of “a Psalm of David, when the prophet Nathan came to him, after he had gone in to Bathsheba.”

Barbara Essex offers that Psalm 51 reminds us that “we are never as perfect as we think².” In the psalm, David prays for a pure heart with urgency. All the filters and edits are removed, and his own humanity is laid bare before God. Of course, God already knows what his true selfie looks like, for God has created us and knows us intimately. But in this prayer of confession, David is able to humble himself and put everything on the line, in the hopes that there will be grace and mercy, all while knowing what he actually deserves is judgment and punishment. In these verses, David asks for a re-set from the inside out, captured in the well-known verse 10, “create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.” David isn’t just concerned here with his reputation or external appearance. He is concerned with making what is inside of him right with God. He knows he can’t do it on his own. He needs help from the creator to restore him to this previous state and cleanse him from his sins. He’s asking God for a re-boot, a system restore, longing to return to those factory settings that bring him into close relationship with the one who called him from the fields as a shepherd. Suddenly, his selfie looks a bit more like a Lenten one – one that is more real and authentic, and opens him to the possibility of change for the better.

As we begin the season of Lent tonight, we are called into a 40 day journey of self-reflection and repentance. It is tempting to make our self-reflections more like selfies; to shine them up, and make them more presentable to others. After all, we’re not that sinful, are we? It becomes easy to justify or gloss over our missteps, particularly when we are surrounded with problems and sins in our world that are much greater. But Lent isn’t about comparing our selfies to others. It’s about comparing our selfies to the one God gave us in the very beginning when we were created in God’s image, and realizing how far we are from the people God calls us to be. Our Lenten selfies feature ashes on our foreheads. “Remember, you are dust, and to dust you shall return[iii].” The journey to restoration and forgiveness lies in our ability to acknowledge who we are, and asking God to help us change. Our worship tonight reminds us of the first step – confession. Confession allows us to clean up our profiles and edit ourselves in real and lasting ways so that our inner lives align with our outer presentations.

This is the call of the prophet Isaiah, who urges the people of God to engage in real, authentic, true worship, rather than mere idolatry. Isaiah reminds us that our quest for holy living is not about putting on a show for others and serving our own interests. Rather, it is about a humility that comes from stripping away our pretenses and being more authentic in our relationship with God, and with each other. The images on Isaiah’s feed are those that speak to justice: sharing bread, welcoming into your home, clothing the naked, and meeting the needs of the afflicted. That’s where the best pictures are made.

One of the biggest difference-makers, I’ve learned, between an ok photo and an amazing one is lighting. My friend Jackie, whose selfies are always gorgeous, repeats a very practical tip to do this: get in front of a window! The natural light coming in will often dramatically improve your appearance and make for the best shot. Isaiah gives much the same advice; by engaging in sincere discipleship, we find ourselves in God’s light, that light that breaks into our world like the dawn, that comes even in the darkness[iv]. In the selfies of our lives, God’s light is perhaps the best filter we could find ourselves in. With God’s grace and mercy, our sins are forgiven, and those imperfections and transgressions are wiped clean. The one who created us down to the very last detail, and who sees all that we are, and in spite of our imperfections and shortcomings, calls us good and loved. God’s filter is one of resurrection, that good news and promise for new life in the dawn of Easter morning and the empty tomb. And that is where we’re headed.

But first, before we see those glossed up images, we must face the reality of our current selfies, raw and imperfect, in desperate need of revision and editing. And so tonight, I invite you to sketch out some of what that looks like. Inside your bulletin you will find an insert with a silhouette outline, ready for your “Lenten Selfie.” As we enter into a time of silent reflection, write or draw the truest selfie you can make of yourself. Later, you will have the opportunity to bring these forward, placing them into the fire pit as a symbol of the ashes they will become, before receiving the symbol of ashes on your forehead. For now, spend time in reflection and personal prayer. Focus less on the physical attributes, and more on words or phrases you need to lift to God in confession. Search in the darkened, cobwebbed corners of your persona and bring them into God’s light, dirty as they are. Don’t worry about what others around you might say or think. In this time of prayer, there will be no re-tweets, no likes, no comments from peers, only the conversation you have with God in the silence of these moments. Be honest, be free, be open to receiving God’s mercy. That is what confession is all about.

~sermon by Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford, Heritage Presbyterian Church, March 6, 2019 (Ash Wednesday)

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[i] http://www.pcusa.org/news/2014/1/31/honest-selfie/

[ii] Personal Notes from sermon on Psalm 51 by Rev. Barbara J. Essex, given at the Association of Presbyterian Church Educators (APCE) Annual Event, January 30, 2014, San Jose, California.

[iii] Genesis 3:19

[iv] See Isaiah 58:8, 10

Sunday’s Sermon – Homeroom Lessons: Make Good Choices – Ephesians 4:1-16

August 5, 2018 Leave a Comment

A fun and engaging way to get to know others, whether in a large group or passing time on a long road trip, is to ask each other a series of questions beginning with the phrase “Would you rather?,” giving two choices and inviting the responder to share why they picked one over the other. Let’s try it for a few rounds. I’ll let you point to the designated side of the sanctuary, and make a short comment to your pew-mate after each pairing. Ready?

Would you rather . . . go on vacation to the mountains or the beach?

Would you rather . . . be completely invisible for one day, or be able to fly for one day?

Would you rather . . . give up watching tv or movies or give up going out to eat for a year?

Would you rather . . . always be 10 minutes late, or always be 20 minutes early?

Would you rather . . . know all the mysteries of the universe or know every outcome of each decision you make? [i]

Every day, we are faced with an almost endless number of choices to make. What to wear, what to do, how to respond to any given situation. Our choices might be easy and quick, or require more information or deliberation. Some of these choices give us more options than others. Sometimes we are choosing between two things and neither of them is particularly appealing. And, of course, different choices carry different levels of meaning or importance in our lives. That is sometimes, but not always, reflected in the time we take to make them. I might, for example, only take a few moments to select which shoes to wear, but take longer to decide that I want to spend the rest of my life married to another person. Ultimately, what we choose can say a lot about us, whether it is simply a preference for an activity or lifestyle, or a reflection of a deeply-seated belief.

This morning, our text from Ephesians prompts us to reflect on the choices we make as we think about how we are “living our lives,” and whether or not they are in line with the “calling” we have as God’s people. This letter is often believed to be a kind of circular letter written by an associate or student of Paul’s, and includes exposition on the centrality of Christ, including a grand vision of what God has done and what is given to and through the church. Then, in this passage, the writer turns from the big picture to answering the “so what?” question of how this new reality might play out in the everyday life of the church, with discussion of the unity of the church and the ongoing sanctification of believers. That is, the ways in which our lives reflect God’s holiness. Ephesians, like many of the epistles, takes on a moral character and instruction for life. Not because it is what wins us God’s favor, that much is made clear in earlier verses, but because it matters how we respond to God’s grace. In essence, much of the letter, including these verses, shout that message we may have heard from a parent as we climbed onto the schoolbus or got out of the drop-off line, or shared by a homeroom teacher as we began our day: “Make Good Choices!” Our lives as Christians should be those that reflect the good news we believe. The large theological catchphrase for this is “embodiment” – which simply means that the beliefs we hold and witness we give can and should be reflected in our words and actions. The smaller acronymn that fits on a bracelet is something like WWJD – What Would Jesus Do? – implying that before we say or do something, we’ve put some thought into whether or not it is in line with the teachings of the one we claim to follow. It’s tough work, even for the most faithful, who seem to clearly be called for God’s purpose.

Ask David. His story is one marked from the beginning as being chosen by God, shepherded in unlikely ways to become king. But by 2 Samuel, the story takes a turn. To say David does not make good choices is a vast understatement. Chapter 11, just before what we read this morning, reveals more than just a series of bad choices. It is a devastating story of as repugnant a series of events as perhaps may be imagined, from his rooftop voyeurism and sexual exploitation of Bathsheba to his deception and attempts to cover it up by manipulating her husband Uriah to his savage final resolution of not only arranging for Uriah’s death, but the death of all who serve under his command. His actions are reprehensible and beyond excuse. They are difficult to stomach, and almost impossible to preach, because as tempting as it is to skip ahead to the ways in which the narrative redeems David, these verses are atrocious. So why attend to these chapters today, or in the 3 year cycle of the lectionary at all? One commentator notes:

This lection is one of the greatest passages in the entire Bible, for it not only makes a devastating statement about the moral priorities of God, but it also abandons sentimentality and romanticism to portray the human condition as it actually is[ii].

God’s response to David, if you keep reading into chapter 12, is to hold David accountable for these decisions, sending the prophet Nathan to condemn him and call him out for the choices he has made, prompting a confession and cleansing. In fact, it is believed that Psalm 51, which we often read on Ash Wednesday and which inspired our Prayer of Confession today, was David’s repentance and plea to God following his visit with Nathan. And it should be noted, since we will not continue to read this part of the text in the coming weeks, that while David goes on in continued service to God, his life is not all magically rosy. It is still fraught with pain and difficulty, related in part to his poor decisions. From this overall context, we learn that in the midst of grace and forgiveness, David’s choices still have real consequences. Life is lived in between these two truths.

The prophet Nathan exposes that David’s behavior is driven by self-interest and impulse, rather than a focus on God. He did not engage in some sort of discernment for how his faith and trust in God might guide him; he simply did what looked and felt good for his own gain. Such decision making methodology is often short-lived, and certainly falls short of the calling God has placed on God’s people. David’s story reminds us that “making good choices” is about much more than just selecting things that make us the happiest. They involve an attentiveness to something bigger than us. That is what the writer of Ephesians is getting at, too. As a people of faith:

We confess that there is a purpose other than our own that is being worked through our life. Our growth is to become more responsive and attentive to, and congenial with, that larger purpose on which we do not get to vote[iii].

This larger purpose connects us to others. David missed this mark, to say the least. To frame it in light of of Ephesians:

he is not “worthy,” because he did not yield his gifts to his community. He refused to live by God’s gifts, trying to seize a peculiar destiny for himself[iv].

It is no coincidence that the writer of Ephesians uses the word “one” seven times in just two verses in chapter 4. This passage drives home the idea that our decision-making happens not just on an individual level in isolation, but in community with others with whom we are supposed to live in unity. The writer continues to talk more about what this unity looks like, and presents a few core aspects to help readers understand unity, which hopefully inspires us to make choices that seek to build others up into this unity that comes in the body of Christ. G. Porter Turner notes that:

The tools for this body are humility, gentleness, and patience. Humility keeps us grounded in the reality of who we are as creatures formed from the dust by God. Gentleness reminds us of our corporate identity . . . Finally, we are patient because we live in time. [with an awareness that] the kingdom of God is a gift from God, not a work achieved by humans[v].

These tools, among the others that are revealed throughout the letter to the Ephesians, all point to a unity that binds God’s people together in love through Jesus Christ. This is the high calling of those who follow Christ, and the decisions that we make should always be oriented around this purpose. It is not some accidental phenomenon; it requires ongoing, active work to make it happen. Remember those choices? They’re going to come each and every day. Ephesians serves as that homeroom reminder of the importance of attending to them, not just cruising through life without thought. People of faith are called to live with the intention of building each other up in love and charged with the extraordinarily difficult task of being knit together as one.

The good news is, we have been prepared for this task, because of the one who unites us – Jesus Christ:

“Christ’s body” is that place at the intersection of divine and human life where sovereignty, brokenness, and communion are held together in God’s grace[vi].

That is the unity we celebrate with the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, gathering around this table not as individuals, but as the body of Christ, made one through the bread and the cup. Here, at this table, we come to proclaim that we are one, and declare our intention to follow Christ, making decisions that might contribute to that unity, until he comes again. So may we celebrate this feast together in unity, asking God to fill us once again and equip us for the lives to which we have been called, going from here to live and serve in Christ’s name, with choices that match. Amen.

~Rev. Elizabeth Lovell Milford
August 5, 2018

—————————————————————————————-
[i] Questions taken from https://conversationstartersworld.com/would-you-rather-questions/, accessed 8/4/2018.
[ii] Walter Brueggemann, Charles B. Cousar, Beverly R. Gaventa, James D. Newsome, Texts for Preaching: A Lectionary Commentary Based on the NRSV – Year B, (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993).
[iii] Ibid.
[iv] Ibid.
[v] G. Porter Taylor, “Theological Perspective: Ephesians 4:1-16,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).
[vi] Richard E. Ward, “Homiletical Perspective: Ephesians 4:1-16,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 3, David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, editors, (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009).

Sunday’s Sermon – On Trial – Isaiah 1:1, 10-20

Ash Wednesday Sermon – Selfies – Psalm 51:1-17

Sunday’s Sermon – Homeroom Lessons: Make Good Choices – Ephesians 4:1-16

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