The Power of the Spirit in You

The Power of the Spirit in You

One of the images for the Holy Spirit in the Bible is that of a flame. The Spirit melts cold hearts and sparks hope within us—a hope that can be contagious.

I recently heard a parable that makes the point:

Once upon a time, there was a piece of iron, strong and hard. Many tried to break it, but all failed.
“I’ll master it,” said the axe. But each heavy blow only dulled the axe’s edge until it gave up in frustration.
“Leave it to me,” said the saw. It worked back and forth, but soon its teeth were broken and worn.
“I’ll show you how to do it,” said the hammer. But at the first fierce strike, its head flew off.
Then, the small soft flame said, “Shall I try?”
Everyone laughed, “What can you do? You’re too small. You have no strength.”
But the flame wrapped itself gently around the iron and never left it…
Until, finally, the iron melted under its warm, irresistible influence.

Pastor James Moore reflected on this story and wrote:

“There’s a sermon there. Perhaps it means God’s way is not the way of force, but love. God doesn’t break hearts—He melts them. And perhaps that is our calling too—to melt hearts under the warmth of God’s gracious love.”

The truth is, we live in a world with tremendous need. Lonely and hurting people are all around us—in our neighborhoods, schools, workplaces. And there are so many opportunities for us to listen, to care, and to share Christ’s love.

In your own life, how might you show the irresistible warmth of God’s gracious love?

Let us pray:

Loving and gracious God, fill us again with your Holy Spirit. Melt our cold hearts and set us afire with hope— Hope that leads us to love boldly and make a difference in your name. Amen.

God Loves You This Much

God Loves You This Much

I remember being with an older, retired pastor who had started a small congregation near the end of his life. I didn’t know him long before he passed away, but I had agreed to help with his ministry. I’ll never forget his final worship service. At the end, as he gave the benediction, he turned to his congregation and said, “Never forget—God loves you this much…” And he stretched his arms wide, as though he were on the cross.

It was a beautiful, moving gesture—a reminder of Christ’s love for us.

I’ve often thought that his final benediction was a sermon worth hearing over and over again. If only we could let that message sink deep… if only we knew that unconditional love in the very fiber of our being—a love for us not as we should be, but as we are right now. That would be a gift worthy of sharing with a world that so desperately needs it.

Let us pray: God of grace, I pray today for those who feel far from you, For those carrying guilt or shame, and for those burdened by worry or pain. Meet us in this moment. May we sense your presence and know your love— a love that does not have to be earned, only accepted. As we receive it, may we share it—loving others as you have loved us. Through Christ we pray. Amen.

The Kite Shop Experience

The Kite Shop Experience

When I was in college, I worked for a short time in a little kite shop in St. Augustine. It was a cool job—making and selling kites and meeting all kinds of interesting people. One slow summer morning, I was straightening up the shop when two other college-aged kids walked in. They immediately approached me and said, “I want to introduce you to someone. Have you met my friend, Jesus?”

I was so taken by surprise that I didn’t know what to say. I guess my hesitancy was their cue to pounce. They began quoting chapter and verse, warning me I’d burn in hell if I didn’t get to know their friend immediately. I was afraid they might scare off any customers, and by the time I told them to hit the road, I was nearly convinced I’d rather burn in hell than spend eternity in heaven with people like them.

The thing is, I wasn’t involved in church at the time—but I was spiritually open. I knew I was missing something. Looking back, I can put my finger on that longing. I know now what I was missing then.

There was an opportunity for those kids to share God’s grace with me—but instead, they brought fear and judgment. They were definitely not a good witness to the beautiful message entrusted to us.

We have been entrusted with a beautiful message of grace and hope: that God loves this world, and each and every person in it. And we are called to share that message. The challenge is finding ways to do it with love.

Let us pray: Gracious God, we know that you have called us to be light in a world that is often dark. We all know people who are hurting. We all know people who have lost hope, who feel far from you. And yet, sometimes we pretend not to notice. Sometimes we feel we don’t have the words, or we’re afraid because of the hurtful and embarrassing ways the gospel has been shared by others. Forgive us, O God. Grant us the words to encourage, the courage to invite, and the wisdom to bring hope. Help us share the love, forgiveness, and acceptance we ourselves have experienced—in a way that opens hearts. We ask in Christ’s name. Amen.

Open to Surprises

Open to Surprises

It was Betty Tallmadge who said, “Life is what happens to you when you’re making other plans.” Serendipitous things happen if we are willing to let them. Our plans must be adjustable to allow life to do what it will with us. We collect seashells with our children but fall in love with the hobby ourselves. We search for a particular painting but come upon a gorgeous piece of furniture instead. We take an elective course as a filler and end up pursuing the field professionally. After the death of a Rabbi, one of his disciples was asked, “What was most important for your teacher?” The disciple thought for a moment and replied, “Whatever he happened to be doing at the moment.” 

Friend of Dial Hope, no matter where you are – driving in a car, the sanctity of your home, vacationing, a hospital bed, at your place of work – live fully this day, which is an unrepeatable miracle. Be open to surprises. Be playful. Focus on the constant sacrament of the little moments. 

Let us pray: O God of all precious things, including animals and the majesty of your creation, who hears our pain even when fears block our words, create in us a heart of laughter and hope. May your spirit of comfort still the anxiety of those who live with enormous pressure and stress; may it fill the emptiness of lost and lonely lives. Weave your love, joy, and gratitude into the tapestry of our moments this day. Thank you, God. Amen.

That Grace May Abound

That Grace May Abound

In an old Peanuts comic strip, Lucy answers the phone. It’s Charlie Brown calling for her brother Linus. She calls for Linus, but he refuses to talk. “I’m not speaking to him. He insulted my belief,” Linus complains. “I’m not speaking to anyone who doesn’t believe in the Great Pumpkin!”

Lucy replies, “Good luck with the world!”

Lucy is right! If we insist that everyone believe just as we do, we’re going to have a hard time getting along in the world. Pride can do real damage to our relationships—even with those we love.

Now, that’s not to say we shouldn’t have deep convictions. We absolutely should. And of course, there will be times when we disagree or feel compelled to argue our point. But if we try to dominate every conversation, or beat people over the head with our views—or, like Linus, shut them out altogether—we only isolate ourselves.

There’s an ancient rabbinical saying: “There is no room for God in someone who is filled with himself.”

On the other hand, when we’re able to listen to those we disagree with—and when we treat them with love and respect—we make room for our relationships to flourish. We also make room for God’s Spirit to move, and our experience of the world becomes a little more grace-filled and loving.

Let us pray: Loving God, we know we can’t make it alone in life for very long. We need other people. We need friends. Today, O God, we pray for healing in our relationships. Where our pride has been destructive, help us to make amends. Grant us a spirit of humility, that your grace may abound. Amen.

A Sermon to Live By

A Sermon to Live By

I know I’ve shared this before, but it is close to my heart. I still have my grandfather’s Bible—or at least the one he had with him on the day he passed away in early March of 1996. That morning, it lay open to the book of Micah, chapter 6, with verses 6–8 underlined:

He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

Next to that verse, he had penned the words: “Live by this…”

My grandfather served as a minister his entire adult life, even well into retirement. Though my grandmother would be the first to tell you he was far from perfect, his life truly did reflect the imperative of that verse.

His deep compassion for others and humility before God often led him to take action that left the world a little better than he found it.

At first, I thought the note in his Bible was just a reminder to himself. But I now realize it was his final sermon to our family. And today, it is a sermon for you.

Three simple—but profound—imperatives: Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with the Lord your God.

Let us pray: Loving God, we want to live in a world that is kind and not arrogant; Where compassion and love flow freely; And where all your children, across the globe, are able to live with dignity. Grant us your grace that we might work with you in this endeavor. We lift up to you today those carrying heavy burdens, those who have lost loved ones, those who are lonely, and those searching for answers. Rest your loving Spirit upon them—and upon us—even now. Amen.

Christ Is Near

Christ Is Near

Today’s message was written by my friend, Rev. Dr. Roger Kunkel, Founder of Dial Hope.

Friend of Dial Hope, Christ comes to us in a special way when we are ready. After Jesus was crucified, Cleopas and Simon were hurting as they plodded down the Emmaus Road. And then, suddenly, Christ was there with them—to give them strength and meet their needs. He opened the scriptures to them. He broke bread with them. And as they experienced the resurrected Christ, they too were resurrected.

The truth is that Christ is never nearer to us than when we are hurting. I believe there are two reasons for this. First, we are often more open to God’s presence when we are down and out. And second, God is like a loving parent who longs to be especially close to His children when they are in pain. Parents know what I’m talking about.

So, wherever you are on your spiritual journey, know this: hope is still alive. Christ is risen! Christ is alive!

Let us pray: God of the cross and the empty tomb, we come to you in humility. You are the God of hope, who declares love for the poor, the broken, the diseased, and the hungry of this world. You are the God who loves us—even when we are unlovable.
Help us to be channels of grace to all people across the globe. Amplify the voices of those who are kind and gentle, and silence the voices of those who are contentious.
Let love break out like an epidemic. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Summoned by God

Summoned by God

Yesterday, we reflected on the biblical theme of calling. Today, I continue that reflection.

Years ago, in a church I previously served, I gave a message one Sunday about volunteering at a local homeless and counseling center. After worship, one of our retired members came up to me and said, “Oh, I could never do that. It just sounds scary. Aren’t all those guys on drugs?” I said, “Why don’t you come with me one day?”

Years later, not only was she serving regularly—she had joined their board of directors and become one of the most faithful volunteers. She said, “God called me to this—through that simple invitation: Why don’t you come with me?

I think of her—this gentle but strong woman in her retirement years—sitting face to face with men and women who had experienced the hardest parts of life. Listening to their stories. Offering compassion. Helping them find resources. Washing their clothes. And in the process, realizing that she was needed—that her life mattered—that God was using her.

Has there ever been a time in your life when you’ve felt called or summoned by God to step out of your comfort zone? To stretch your faith?

Is it possible that God is calling you now?

Let us pray: Holy God, we thank you for your calling on our lives. And we thank you that your calling can shift and change over time. Give us ears to hear you nudging, and open hearts to respond. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Calling

Calling

Has there ever been a time in your life when you’ve felt called—or summoned—by God to step out of your comfort zone? Or to stretch your faith?

One of the major themes that runs through the Bible is that of calling. Often we think of calling as a vocation—and it can be. It may be a life’s work… or a part of it. But it’s not limited to that. Calling can also be something we feel compelled to do—something that requires us to step outside of ourselves for the sake of others. Something that adds meaning and hope to our lives.

A pastor friend of mine once told me about a capital campaign his church launched to eliminate a couple million dollars of debt. They hired a consultant to help. Before anything began, the consultant asked to meet with him personally. She sat him down and said, “As the pastor and leader of this church, I want you to prayerfully consider giving $10,000.”

He said, “You’ve got to be kidding me! I’m 36 years old. I don’t have $10,000. I’m already giving all I can!” She replied, “Well, you’ve told me that God has called you to this. What if you divided the $10,000 over three years? How much would that be a month? What could you sacrifice to make it happen?”

It turned out that not only did the campaign stretch his faith—it stretched the faith of the whole church. It became a time of great spiritual growth. And through it, they were freed up financially to do tremendous good in the community—to truly help and bless others.

Have you ever felt called by God to take a leap of faith? Maybe to reach out to someone in need. Maybe to serve in a particular ministry. Maybe simply to ask for help when you really needed it, but pride was getting in the way. Or maybe it was a call to let go of something unhealthy. Or to take a leap of faith to join a church—or return to one after years away.

Can you remember a time when you felt summoned by God?

Is it possible that God is calling you now?

Let us pray: Holy God, we thank you for your calling on our lives. And we thank you that your calling can shift and change over time. Give us ears to hear you nudging, and open hearts to respond. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Open Our Hearts

Open Our Hearts

I recently heard an interview with the rabbi Ariel Burger. He shared a story about his son, who was on a semester-long program in Israel and then Poland. While abroad, his son made a new friend named Mason. When they arrived in Poland, Mason disappeared for a day with one of the program’s counselors.

Later, Mason told the rabbi’s son that his grandparents were Holocaust survivors. They had been married three weeks before the deportation to Auschwitz. In Auschwitz, of course, they were separated, and his grandmother was transferred to a rabbit farm on the outskirts of the camp. The Nazis were experimenting on rabbits in search of a cure for typhus.

The rabbit farm was run by a Polish man who noticed, early on, that the rabbits were receiving better food and care than the Jewish slave laborers. So he began sneaking food to the Jewish inmates.

At one point, Mason’s grandmother cut her arm on a piece of barbed wire, and the cut became infected. It wasn’t a serious infection—if you had access to antibiotics. But as a Jewish prisoner, there was no way she could get them. In an incredible act of selflessness, the Polish man cut his own arm open and placed his wound on hers so that he would contract the infection. Then he went to the Nazis and said, “I’m one of your most productive managers. I need medicine.” When they gave it to him, he shared it with her—and saved her life.

Mason told the rabbi’s son, “When I left the other day, I went to see that Polish man. He’s still alive, living on the outskirts of Warsaw. I went to say, thank you for my life. Thank you for my life.

Rabbi Burger reflected, “This story raises a lot of questions about what it takes to be the kind of person who will share someone else’s wound, despite all the pressure to see them as less valuable than a rabbit. What does it take to see another person as a person when everything around you is telling you not to?” He went on to say, “That question—for me—is the motivating question right now… not just in extreme situations, but in everyday life.”

Today, in a society so deeply divided—when polarization often leads to demonization and even hatred—it’s worth asking: What does it take to see another person as a human being… to even share in their wounds, especially when they stand on the other side of a cultural or political divide?

Let us pray: We remember today, O God, that Jesus taught us to love our neighbor as ourselves. Open our hearts to our neighbors—near and far—and in that opening, may we also open ourselves to your healing and peace, through Christ our Lord. Amen.