There's a funny story about a man rescued from a deserted island by the Coast Guard. The captain noticed three huts on the island and asked, "What's that hut on the north side?" The man answered, "That's my house — that's where I live." "And the hut on the east side?" "That's my church. It's where I worship God." "I get that," said the captain. "But what about the third hut?" "Oh," said the man, "that's where I used to go to church."

It's funny because most of us have been there.

When I was fresh out of seminary and looking for my first call, a friend offered me this piece of advice: "Joe, if you ever find the perfect church — don't go. Because as sure as you show up, you'll ruin it." His point was clear. There are no perfect churches because there are no perfect people. There never have been. You can read about it in almost every letter Paul ever wrote.

And yet — the church, imperfect as it is, remains one of God's primary ways of doing something in the world. We were not designed to make the journey alone. We need each other. We need the songs, the prayers, the sacraments, the community of people who are stumbling toward God together.

If you have a church family, give thanks for it today — and pray for it. Pray for the pastors and leaders. Pray for the congregation. Ask God to bless the ministry there, and to use even its imperfections for good.

If you don't have a community of faith, I'd encourage you to keep looking. Ask God for leading. The right community may not be perfect — but it will be yours.

And if you have been hurt by someone in the church — and many of you have, I pray for God's healing and peace. Please don't confuse the church with God, and end up walking away from both. Keep your heart open. God is always doing something new — even here, even now, even in us.

Our prayer today was written in the early 1600s by Rev. William Laud, then Archbishop of Canterbury:

Prayer: Gracious God, we pray for your church. Fill it with all truth in all peace. Where it is corrupt, purify it; where it is in error, direct it; where in anything it is amiss, reform it. Where it is right, strengthen it; where it is in want, provide for it; where it is divided, reunite it; for the sake of Jesus Christ your Son, our Savior. Amen.

Pastor Scott Hoezee once told about a fascinating study on forgiveness conducted by the Templeton Foundation in cooperation with the University of Michigan and the National Institute for Mental Health. According to the study, 75% of Americans are "very confident" that they have been forgiven by God for their past offenses — remarkably, even among those who don't have much to do with God otherwise.

The picture was less encouraging, however, when it came to forgiving others. Only about half of those surveyed said they had completely forgiven the people who had hurt them.

What struck me most was this: where forgiveness does take place, researchers found a clear link between forgiveness and better health. The more willing a person is to forgive, the less likely they are to suffer from stress-related illness.

We seem to know, almost instinctively, that God forgives us. But extending that same grace to others — that is where it gets hard.

The scriptures teach us that God is a God of forgiveness and mercy, abounding in steadfast love. But they also suggest that our capacity to receive that forgiveness is somehow connected to our willingness to offer it. Jesus said, "If you forgive other people when they sin against you, your Heavenly Father will forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins." (Matthew 6:14-15)

That is not easy to hear. But perhaps it points to something true — that forgiveness, when we offer it, opens something in us. It makes room. It allows grace to move.

Is there someone or something in your life you are still carrying? What might it feel like to set that down today?

Prayer: Have mercy on us, Loving God. Help us to release the burdens we have been carrying — the old wounds, the long grudges, the things we cannot seem to let go of. May your forgiveness wash over us. And then, by that same grace, give us the courage and the freedom to forgive others — that new beginnings may be ours, through Jesus Christ. Amen.

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Yesterday we relected on moments of awe and wonder.  I learned recently that the Greek root for the word "beauty" is related to the word for "calling." The words are kalon and kalein — beauty and calling, wound together at their root.

The Christian poet and philosopher John O'Donohue reflected on this connection and suggested that in the presence of beauty — in the presence of awe, wonder, kindness, and goodness — something happens in us that is not neutral. Beauty, he said, is not passive. It is actually calling you. Calling something out of you.

Think about the last time you were stopped by something beautiful. A piece of music that hit you unexpectedly. A landscape that took your breath away. A moment of kindness between two strangers. A child's laughter. Something in you responded — leaned toward it, opened a little. That response, O'Donohue would say, is not accidental. It is an invitation.

An invitation to go deeper in your faith. To heal something that has hardened or been wounded within you. To engage the world in some new way — to grow, to serve, to give in response to what God has quietly placed on your heart.

The ancient Greeks sensed it. The contemplatives have always known it. Beauty is one of the ways God speaks — not in thunder, but in the still small voice of a moment that catches us off guard and whispers: there is more. Come further in.

May you have eyes to see it today. And may your heart be open when it finds you.

Prayer: Loving God, open us to your healing, transforming grace. Attune our hearts to the beauty you have woven into the fabric of this world — and to the calling that beauty carries. May your Spirit touch our spirits. And may we ever be channels of the blessings we have received. Amen.

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In an interview shortly before his death, the poet and philosopher John O'Donohue said, "It's beautiful when you find someone at work who's doing exactly what they dreamed they should be doing and whose work is an expression of their inner gift. The gifts that are given to us as individuals are not for us alone, or for our own self-improvement — they're actually for the community, and to be offered to others."

I think about a man I knew from another church — a retired CPA who was passionate about helping young couples find a way to live debt-free. With his help, I saw so many couples strengthened in their marriages, able to become more generous, and able to pass on a new way of being to their children.

I think about a woman named Jacki whom I met at a continuing education conference years ago. She was a former Miss Florida contestant who worked in the beauty industry — and she felt God calling her to begin a ministry offering facials, manicures, makeup, and clothing to women who had been physically or emotionally abused.

I think about Barbara Enos and Bonnie McCarty from my previous church, who made prayer quilts for veterans, women in shelters, and people in need.

Whether you experience a calling like this as a tug on your heart or a stirring in your soul — whether you hear God's voice clearly, or are moved by the cries of human need, or simply sense: this is one thing I can do right now — these callings speak to the presence of a caring God whose Spirit is deep at work within us, moving us toward the places where grace is most needed.

May you and I ever remain open to those callings. May we use the time, the experience, and the gifts we have been given to bless a world that is desperately in need.

Prayer: We thank you, O God, for glimpses of your Spirit at work in and through others — in the quiet, faithful offerings of ordinary people. Stir us as well. Show us where our gifts are most needed, and give us the courage to offer them. We ask in Jesus' name. Amen.

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Today's message was written by my friend, Rev. Roger Kunkel, founder of Dial Hope.

In the novel about life in a mental hospital, entitled One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, these words were uttered by Randall Patrick McMurphy: "That's the first thing that got me thinking about this place, there wasn't anybody laughing. I haven't heard a real laugh since I came through that door......When you lose your laugh, you lose your footing. " 

Because of the level of depression and pain in such institutions, a heavy dose of laughter is sorely needed. Through laughter, inner torments work themselves out. It is the medicine needed to revive a wracked heart or withering spirit. We need sure footing along life's rugged paths. A steady supply of laughter gives us footing. For when I complain, scowl, or retaliate, I am caught in the clutches of cursedness. I am miles from blessing anything. When I laugh, life giggles and shakes in delight. 

We are reminded that the Gospel is not boring, it is not ho-hum, it is good news. Ta-Da! In Proverbs, we read, "A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones." (Proverbs 17:22) 

Let us pray: God of all precious things, who hears our pain even when tears block our words, create in us a heart of laughter and hope. May your Spirit still the anxiety of those who live with enormous pressure and stress. So bring us comfort where we need comfort, but where we need justice, let there be love. Lord, you have become an undeniable presence, a reliable friend, the one who walks in when the rest of the world walks away. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.