Years ago, I was in a Sunday school class discussing the topic of fear. A friend, who is a Naval Helicopter Pilot, shared about a recent deployment. He told the class that night missions, particularly those when there is no moon to see by, can be scary. They take off and land from the deck of an aircraft carrier that is rolling beneath open ocean waves. My friend said he doesn’t like to fly with other pilots who don’t have some measure of fear. All senses are required for this type of operation, and any measure of arrogance can cost you your life.

That recent deployment was particularly tough, as his wife was home pregnant with their first child. He shared that in the hours leading up to a night flight, he turned again and again to God. He had to trust. He found himself praying Psalm 139:

O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up... Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you...

There are moments in each of our lives when there is nowhere else to turn. In such a time as that, Psalm 139 is a good one to pray. It is a reminder of God’s presence, strength, and mercy.

I wonder what resources you have at your fingertips. I wonder if you have a psalm or prayer, or passage that you turn to. Perhaps there is one that you would like to memorize as a resource today.

Let us pray: We thank you, Loving God, that you have promised to be with us—even through the valley of the shadow of death. We thank you for women and men, like my friend, who risk their lives for the protection of others. We entrust them to your care and ask you to watch over them, and their families. We long with them for the day when wars will cease and your peace will reign. Reign now in hearts, that amid our fears and struggles your peace would settle in us—and work through us. Amen.

There was an old story about a recent retiree who recruited the help of his 91-year-old father to help plant a spring garden. The older man began to set up the bean poles in straight lines, but his son protested. He contended that arranging them teepee-style was better. They argued for some time over which method was best.

Finally, the son said, "Dad, this is my garden, and I want to use the teepees!” The father threw down his hoe and stomped off toward the house, snorting as he went, "You kids! Turn sixty and you think you know everything!"

Sometimes I wonder if that is what God says about us… especially when we are feeling smug or self-made. “You get just a little older, you secure that job or that promotion at work, you get that next college degree, you earn enough money not to have to struggle, and suddenly you think you know everything!”

The truth is, no matter how old we are, no matter what degrees we have earned, no matter how much money we’ve made or what we’ve accomplished in life, we still need God. We still need his guidance, his grace, and his mercy.

In the book of Deuteronomy (6:10–12) we read, “When the Lord your God has brought you into the land that he swore to your ancestors... to give you... and when you have eaten your fill, take care that you do not forget the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.”

May we never lose sight of our own need. May we never forget the One who has blessed us, the One who has saved us, the One who has promised to lead us and guide us and love us even now.

Let us pray: Loving God, we remember today that we do indeed need you. No matter what we have accomplished, there is still so much of life that is beyond our control. We are still confronted with mystery at every turn. We surrender our hearts to you again in this moment, and we ask you to lead us, guide us, and use us as instruments of your love and grace. Amen.

Professor and theologian Shirley Guthrie once wrote: “What’s heaven like? Of course, no one really knows. The biblical writers didn’t spend much time on it. They didn’t worry about the future because they understood their own and the world’s future to be in the hands of God…. They focused (more) on living in the present in light of our future hope, knowing that what is going to happen to us, our loved ones, and the world will be better than the very best we can imagine in our wildest dreams.”

We still may wonder, what that’s like though? Will we see our loved ones? Will we have opportunities to make up for past wrongs?

Jesus tells a parable of a rich man dying and going to Hades and Lazarus dying and going to heaven. In the parable, it seems pretty clear that Lazarus knows and recognizes Abraham. We do get the sense, at least from that passage, that we will know others and that they will know us.

In 1 Corinthians chapter 15, Paul says we will have perfect spiritual bodies, and we will bear the image of the Man of Heaven—that is Jesus…

I think about being in the presence of the unconditional love of Christ, and somehow each one of us bearing his image. I have to imagine that the past wrongs and hurts each of us has suffered, and inflicted, will long be forgotten, that the separation and loneliness we have felt in this lifetime will be healed, and that longing in each of us for connection and love will ultimately be fulfilled—overcome by the mercy, forgiveness, and grace we know in Jesus.

In an Easter sermon, my friend Herb Meza once reflected on life after death. He wrote:

“I believe that one day every bruise, every cancer cell, every blind eye, every limp and every lump will be set right. One day every embarrassment and every rejection and every hurt we have suffered will give way to glory. I do not know how God will deal with all the shabbiness, failures, and betrayal. It surely must hurt God, but I know God is loving and forgiving. One day, every moment of hoping against hope will be rewarded.”

None of us knows for sure what heaven will be like. But we do know it is promised. We do get glimpses of heaven on earth here and now, a vision to work toward. And we can trust that God is as good as Jesus said: loving, generous, forgiving, full of mercy and grace… And we can trust that one day we will be with him—and experience that eternal weight of glory—beyond all measure.

Let us pray: We thank you, O God, for your presence among us, and for glimpses of heaven even here and now. Grant us peace about the future, and tune our hearts to your heart. By the way that we live, by the way that we speak, by the way that we love and give, may we join your Kingdom work—your heaven work—here on earth. We ask in Jesus’s name. Amen.

A woman and her grandmother were sitting on their porch discussing a member of the family. "He's just no good," the young woman said. "He's completely untrustworthy, not to mention lazy." "Yes, he's bad,” said the grandmother as she rocked back and forth in her rocker, "but Jesus loves him."

"I'm not so sure of that," the younger woman persisted. "Oh, yes," assured the elderly lady. "Jesus loves him." She rocked and thought for a few more minutes and then added, "Of course, Jesus doesn't know him like we do.”

Of course, Jesus would know him better than anybody—and love him anyway. In the same way that Jesus knows you better than anyone—and loves you anyway. This is called grace. And understanding that grace is essential to understanding God.

Throughout the scriptures, we are reminded that at the foot of the cross, we all stand on equal ground. God shows no partiality: rich/poor, Black/white, Mexican, Asian, American… The truth is we all stand in need of God’s grace. And there is not one of us who is not seen in God’s eyes as a beloved child.

This is at the very heart of our faith. And yet, there is a human tendency to make judgments. Who’s in, who’s out. Who’s acceptable… who’s worthy… who’s worthy of our company, of our compassion, of our love, of our help…

The Irish poet and peacemaker, Pádraig Ó Tuama, brings this home for me. He said, "Yeah. I do love praying. Like ‘prier’ from French, ‘to ask.’ What I love about that word is it doesn’t require belief. It just requires recognition of need. And I think the recognition of need is something that brings us to a deep, common language about what it means to be human. And if you’re not in the situation where you know need, well, then you’re lucky. But you will be.”

We all know what it is like to be in need—in need of healing, in need of forgiveness, in need of love. Every one of us…

It is in our shared humanity, and in our common recognition of our need, that we begin to understand God’s grace.

Let us pray: Holy God, we acknowledge that it is sometimes hard to love people who are different than us. But we trust that your love is extended to all. We thank you for this grace and ask you simply to soften hearts that all may accept and respond to this love. We ask in Jesus' name. Amen.

Some time ago, I was driving back from a hospital visit in Jacksonville and noticed a billboard. It had a picture of Abraham Lincoln with a quote that read, “A House Divided… Cannot Stand.” Then underneath, “Civility is in You. Pass it on.”

Of course, when Abraham Lincoln said, “A house divided cannot stand,” he was quoting Jesus…

I don’t love billboards, but I liked the message. Especially in our day when there is so much junk out there—so much trash—it was inspiring to see a positive message.

In the book of James, we are encouraged, “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger…”

When it comes to political conversations, are we quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger?

With all the problems in the world: poverty, war, injustice, how we communicate with each other may seem insignificant. But the truth is: our words can have a humanizing effect—or they can have a dehumanizing effect. Our words can create relationships, or they can destroy them.

In the book of Ephesians, Paul puts it like this: “Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear.” – Ephesians 4:29

May you come to see that you and I have been given a holy and awesome responsibility—to bring healing and hope to the world—even with our words. May you use your words (and your silences) carefully and with love. May you use them to build up and not to tear down. And may your words (your texts, your emails, your Facebook posts) give grace to those who hear.

Let us pray: God of Grace, for your sake, and for the sake of the soul of our communities and our country, empower us to be makers of peace. Amen.