I was on a flight back coming back from Texas several years ago, and I picked up one of the airline magazines. There was an article in it about a Harvard professor who began teaching a Psychology class on Happiness. I was amazed at how much of his teaching lined up with ancient biblical wisdom.

In addition to covering the importance of cultivating gratitude, generosity, and friendship, the professor also dealt with the destructive nature of worry. In his consulting work, he encouraged executives who struggle with rumination, to schedule in their day planners time to worry. 30 minutes to an hour will do. His advice is this: If you find yourself worrying during the day, write down your concerns and come back to them at your scheduled worry time. Nine times out of ten when you get back to it, it won’t be nearly as daunting.

The Apostle Paul has something to add to this advice. To the church in Philippi he wrote, “Do not worry about anything – but instead in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your request be made known to God. In other words, Let worry be a prompter for prayer. If you schedule a worrying time, perhaps you could also make it a prayer time. As Paul advises: Let your concerns be made known to God.

Paul continues in that same passage, “And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Let us pray: We remember that Jesus said, “Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” We thank you, O God, for the invitation. And we thank you for your presence with us – even in this moment. We offer you our burdens, our worry, our anxiety and ask that as you lift them from us, you would fill us with your peace. Then, may we share that peace with a world desperately in need. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

One night during the Crimean War, Florence Nightingale was walking through a hospital ward. She paused and bent over to help a seriously wounded soldier. As she tended his wounds, the soldier looked up and said, “You are Christ to me.”

Have you ever had an experience like that; when someone helped you in a time of need; when it was almost as if the hand of Christ himself was extended to you?

Whether it was a phone call at the right time, a home-cooked meal, an electric bill paid, groceries on the doorstep, a kind note, a hug, a listening ear, or a visit in a moment of need, Christ is there. And whether you are the one giving or receiving, in those moments, his love, mercy, and grace are real – even tangible.

Let us pray: Holy Spirit, Giver of hope and renewal, Your love flows from person to person, your mercy from hand to hand, your grace from life to life. Thank you for your presence poured out on us as we take our place in this eternal pattern of giving and receiving. Help us never to be too proud to receive, or too calloused to give. We ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Today let me say how grateful we are to those who make gifts to the Dial Hope Foundation that enable this ministry to touch so many. Your generous support is a real God-send.

On that first Easter, some of the earliest disciples were walking along a road at dusk and a stranger came along and started walking beside them. They invited the stranger in for dinner. The scriptures then tell us that it was in the breaking of the bread that their eyes were opened and they recognized that this stranger was really Jesus.

There is something quite intimate about sharing a meal with others.

Last year my daughters asked if they could on occasion, invite people to dinner from their high school who they found interesting. Over the course of time, we’ve hosted some really intriguing characters. The girls always have thought-provoking questions to ask, and the conversations have been fun, ranging from zany, to a little weird, to intellectually challenging. It seems we make space less and less for those who are different, especially those who don’t share our same worldviews. So this exercise has been refreshing.

I’ve heard that in Jesus’ day, the table was seen as a kind of altar. Time spent around the table with friends, family, and even strangers, was time spent in the presence of God. And hospitality to the “other” was imperative.

The first Christians took this a step further. There was a deep-seated belief that showing hospitality to the immigrant, the traveler, the foreigner or the stranger was a way of meeting and receiving the Holy presence of God. They believed that Christ very well could meet you in the visit of a stranger, even someone very different from you.

I don’t know whether Christ has visited us yet around the table at our house, but I’m certainly keeping my eyes and heart open.

Let us pray: May we notice your presence around our tables, O God, even when we are alone. When we sit with others, may we look for you in them. We thank you for your generosity to us. Help us to be generous to others, in our listening, in compassion, and in our giving. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Keith Miller tells a wonderful story about a busy executive in an eastern city who was rushing to catch a commuter train one morning. The executive had an important meeting at the office, and he needed to make this train in order to get there on time. Just as he was about to board the train, he accidentally bumped into a little boy who was carrying a boxed jigsaw puzzle. The box went flying, and the pieces scattered everywhere. What should he do? Should he stop and help the little boy pick up the pieces? Or, should he get on the train? He couldn’t do both; there was not enough time! If he stopped to help, he would miss the train and be late. What should he do? What would you have done? Well, the man stopped and helped the boy pick up the puzzle as the train pulled out. The little boy watched him closely with a kind of awe. The little boy said, “Mister, you missed your train.” “I know,” the man said. “Will you be late to work?’ the boy asked. “Yes, but it was more important that I stop and help you.” Then the little boy said, “Mister, can I ask you a question?” “Yes, of course.” “Mister, are you Jesus?”

Keith Miller wrote, “And for the moment, the man realized that – on that platform – he had been.” The little boy saw the light of Jesus in that man’s act of Christ-like love.

Friend of Dial Hope, during these difficult days, how is it with you? Can people see in you Christ’s spirit of forgiveness? And can people see in you Christ’s love?

Let us pray: Creator God, you are eagle, you are a dove, you are color and sound, you are wind and fire. How great Thou art! Your world is indeed full of pain as well as joy. Be especially with those who can’t sleep, with those who are fearful, who have little hope. Spread your love like a well-worn and beloved jacket over those who need comfort and love. For we pray in the name of the Prince of Peace, our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

A few weeks back, I was listening to a podcast with Jack Kornfield and he was talking about the great Vietnamese zen master, Thich Nhat Hahn. Hahn often talked about how, in the heart and mind, there are all kinds of seeds. “There are seeds of joy and love of connection, of creativity, peace, and wellbeing, of caring, of strength. But there’s also a whole set of seeds of fear and anxiety of anger or rage, greed or grasping and so forth.” He said, “How you live depends on which seeds you water. If you water and tend those healthy seeds, those are what will grow in you. And those become who you are… So if we want to change the world for the better, which we can, and I believe that many, many of us want to, it starts with these inner capacities…”

Kornfield went on to say, “Forgiveness is a part of this… As human beings, we need to learn the art of forgiveness.”

I like that he called it an art. Because it is certainly not easy, is it?

Over the years, I’ve heard people’s stories about being abused by a relative. A friend once told me about a business partner who stole tens of thousands of dollars from him. And I think about another friend whose wife left him after only a year of marriage for someone else.

So many of us carry so much around. And there’s no doubt about it, the pain is real. The anger and bitterness and feelings of wanting revenge are real. Maybe you know what that’s like – to carry that hurt and anger around. The need for revenge is a powerful emotion.

And yet the truth is, if we carry hatred and anger and bitterness around it around with us, who does it hurt?

One of the central tenants of our faith is the cross. And as Christians, we claim that Christ crucified reveals to us the heart and pathos of God: a God who knows what it is to suffer, who knows what it is to be betrayed, who knows what it is to be broken, to be cheated, to be alone. He quite literally bears our sins in his body, the violence, the injustice.

And yet on the cross, he prays, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

“Forgive us our sins,” he taught us to pray, “as we forgive those who sin against us.”

Let us pray: On this Good Friday, O God, as we remember Jesus crucified, we thank you for your undying, unconditional love, not only for us but for this world. Grant us your grace, as we seek to follow him, that we might walk in his ways. Amen.