8th Street Church of the Nazarene, Oklahoma City, OK

Tune in to hear about how God has faithfully been at work in the 8th Street Church and what lies ahead as we seek to be good & useful neighbors that live the way of Jesus.

Jesus is our Divine Healer who not only sets us free from the things that hold us but sets us free for a purpose. He is the source of ultimate healing by his resurrection of the dead, and he reminds us that we too will be raised up. And when we tire from being people who do the work of healing in a broken world, he is the one who replenishes us, the one who restores our soul. Take a deep breath, you are not alone; there is more healing to come.

When you attend church, do you expect to be amazed? Do you anticipate that you will have a healing encounter with the Holy One? Mark 1:21-28 reminds us that Jesus's healing power has final say of the forces that hold us.

Poems, Earthquakes, and Angels

The Two Sides

Life during a pandemic feels like one of limitation. And yet, Paul's words to the church in Philippi remind us that it is in our limitations that we may find possibilities of liberation. What might God be inviting us to say "yes" to in this season full of "no's"?

In the midst a global pandemic, we are reminded that we live in a world of fear, disease, hunger, and isolation. And yet we are reminded that it is Lent that proceeds Easter, and that chaos is the material out of which God brings new life.

Sometimes it is the things that we think are the most harmless that can be the most destructive to us. What happens when we let apathy set in and begin to feel like our efforts don't matter? How can God redeem and restore us to people of hope who bring meaningful change in accordance with the kingdom?

Anger often consumes us. When we hold onto anger and allow it to be misused, it causes hurt and destruction in us around us. But, the good news is that God is able to take our anger and redeem it for God's purposes.

Just as Peter and John were witnesses to an incredible mountain experience, we here at the 8th street church have had many mountain top experiences of our own. But, it is on this Sunday that we take time to remember the ordinary as well as the extraordinary ways that God has worked in and among this community.

When times get tough, where do we put our hope? At the end of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus offers us two ways of orienting our lives: trusting in him or putting our hope in other things that will ultimately leave us defeated.

No one can pretend that Jesus' words about loving enemies are easy to do; nor can we pretend that he didn't really mean them. It requires great courage and imagination to live these words of Jesus, and he helps to supply us with both.

Short Description: What do we do when we offend someone? What do we do when someone offends us? When Jesus addresses these questions in the Sermon on the Mount, we learn not only about ourselves, but about a loving and relational God.

For people who live in light-saturated cities where there's actually too much salt in our food, it can be hard to fully comprehend what Jesus means about being light and salt in the world. Jesus' words offer good news of exciting possibility, without obligation or burden.

The Beatitudes are some of Jesus' most well-known words, but perhaps least understood. When we hear these words from Jesus the prophet from within the prophetic, we are given entrance into a new reality that confronts and overturns the ways of the empire.

We often come to God after we have diagnosed ourselves, requesting the cure we deem appropriate. But what if Jesus' invitation to us offers a healing we didn't even ask for, or even expect?

The Christmas story does not end with "silent night;" it continues into strange and even dark events. But as we listen to Joseph and Mary's experience, perhaps we understand even more what it means that God is with us, and how we are invited into God's work.

Even when Isaiah encouraged him to "ask big," King Ahaz could not see beyond his fears to trust God. Can we? What sign would be enough for us to trust?

When we forget to think theologically, we forget that we are deeply connected to the land and abuse it. Judgment, or exile, follows; but it is not the end. Isaiah heard God singing a song of new creation, and it's a song for us as well.

Against the backdrop of empire politics, Isaiah is given a dream that is both a judgment of empire and an invitation into healing from the ways of the empire. It is a startling vision that may seem too far-fetched to ever be a reality. But those gathered by Jesus are given a new world and a new way of being in that world together.

Isaiah hears a word so clearly that he could see it -- a picture that was both the end and the beginning. How do we welcome a God who both dismantles and creates? How do we anticipate our own healing?

Harriet Tubman was the kind of saint whose life demands a response from all of us who follow her. But Tubman's life is not the only one that calls us to live differently; we are invited to listen to and respond to the many unnoticed women saints all around us.

Rev. Dr. Howard Thurman provided the scriptural and theological foundation for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the non-violence movement in America; but he was not a strategist. All of his work as a pastor, professor, writer and social activist flowed from his commitment to the inner work of meeting with God in the silence and solitude of his own heart.

Frederick Douglass, runaway slave turned famous orator, author and statesman, was not just a man ahead of his times. He was a saint whose courage and conviction was grounded in his experience of Christ, and a deep love for all people. His story is not easy to hear; but it is truly remarkable.

As we begin a month-long series to tell stories of saints, we recognize just how significant they are. In the extraordinary and ordinary-ness of living the way of Jesus, it is the saints who teach us the language and the practices only found in this way.

As Paul's own life is being poured out as a drink offering, he offers words of love, blessing, and challenge to Timothy. And as we listen in, we are invited to offer ourselves to be poured out too, with bravery and love.

What does it mean that scripture is inspired, and how exactly is it useful? As we explore these questions we can understand how and why Paul's best advice to young Timothy was simply, "Preach the word."

There is much conversation today about how to keep young people in the church. But is that the right question to ask? Perhaps the best way to ensure that the Gospel continues is that we live an embodied Gospel of suffering alongside our kids and neighbors, rather than trying to control them.

It's obvious that Paul's courageous faithfulness was fueled by his unwavering trust in Christ. But can we really trust like that? In an age where we are increasingly distrustful of our leaders, learning who and how to trust is not easy. But if we can learn to trust, then maybe we can also be trustworthy for the ones who are watching us.

In this lectionary text, Paul's words to Timothy are an invitation to join God, to live wholeness and holiness as we give ourselves away. And this way of life colors everything else we do, read, and say -- including the passages of scripture that are not lectionary texts.

It may not be surprising that the Apostle Paul instructs pastors and churches to pray for all people. But do we really need to pray for those in authority -- even when they abuse the authority they are given?

Staying on course in the way of Jesus is requires us to be brave. But just how brave are we willing to be? Only a deeply personal experience will help us decide on that answer.

We are not all the same, but we are all ready for transformation." Over the last four years of saying these words together, we have indeed experienced a lot of transformation. And now we are invited into the work of prayerful discernment to imagine and participate in the transformation that is to come.

When we experience Jesus as our Very Best Neighbor, we are invited into a way of remaking the world as we become good neighbors ourselves.

There's a lot packed into these words we say each week, that "God died in solidarity with us." The fullness of incarnation, a God who suffers, and a kingdom ruled by love may be offensive and nonsense to some; but it is incredibly good news for all of us.

Each week in worship, our congregation proclaims why we gather: to tell the truth about who we are, who God is, and what we commit to doing together. When this confession becomes the central narratives of our lives, it carries us past being "God consumers", and into the life-giving rhythms of receiving and giving.

We don't often think of how connected we are to everything around us. But as the divine dance of the Trinity pulls us into deeper connectivity with all of creation, we are able to recognize our collective need for rest. The ancient text commands rest for the land; but as we find ways to give the land rest, it's a gift for all of us.

In light of the recent violent events in Dayton, OH and El Paso, TX, we have stepped out of our God is Green Series to spend some time in lament and grief. We are a church that confesses that we are sick and tired of these types of activities. We also confess that we live in a place marked by violence. Our church, our city, and our state needs to recognize that violence happens all over and while we grieve, there are ways to think about who we are as the people of God in this time and place. Let us grieve together and let our grief move us to be advocates for love.

We often equate our ability to acquire things with a sense of power; but what if our desire to get stuff was actually a form of slavery? Jesus' invitation always requires leaving stuff behind, but as we listen to the witness of creation and scripture we find that this is a gift of freedom. We are invited to engage in the ancient Christian practice of simplicity not as a duty, but as resistance to the ways of Pharaoh and empire.

In the story, Jesus tells about judgment, neither group of people was fully aware of what they were doing -- good or bad. So as we talk about transportation and mobility, perhaps our greatest need is to notice. When we make decisions to notice our neighbor, we are more able to make decisions to care for our neighbor and our shared home.

In the Biblical account of the flood, we encounter an ancient story about what happens when creation is un-cared for; but we also find good news about God the Creator. Water may be a place of chaos, but it is also what provides life and purifies us. The way we respond to this gift will tell the story of creation well cared for, or not.

Historically Christians have been people of two books: holy scripture, and holy creation. But as Christians in 21st century America, we often forget these two sacred "texts" are in dialog. As we listen to the witness of creation, we are invited to be open to having our minds changed as we submit to God our Great Gardener.

We see the evidence of God's Spirit at work as believers learn to listen and help to bring "outsiders" inside. Racial and cultural prejudices may seem impossible to change, but nothing is impossible for God. The question is whether we are ready to participate in the change the Spirit wants to bring.

On this Ascension Sunday, we wrestle with the fact that the ascension is a hard thing to understand. But once we settle in to accept the mystery of it all, we find that there is very good news that changes everything. The ascension means that ordinary things - like time, and matter, and space - are now sacred because love has taken command.

The story of Lydia's obedience has had enormous impact in the Church of her time, and throughout history. Hers is not the only story like this; but we often don't give space to hear the stories we need the most. What would it mean for us to truly give space to listen to the stories of others, and how might they change us?

The story told in Acts 10 and 11 literally changed the course of history as the Gospel was opened wide for all people. But even more than being an important history lesson, this text raises many important questions for us to wrestle with today. How do resurrection people practice hospitality? How does the other become a part of us? Even when the answers challenge us, they are good news.

In the final story of his gospel, John tells a beautiful story about fishing, and friends, and breakfast on the beach. But it's really a story about failure, and deep love, and a whole new life -- for Peter and for us.

We like locks, and walls, and all kinds of things feel protected. But the resurrected Christ can get through any locked door, and it seems his followers don't pay attention to barricades either.

Although we equate resurrection with light; the truth is that Easter does not begin in the daylight, but in the dark of the early morning hours. It is in this darkness that Mary backs into the resurrected Christ. And maybe it is in our darkness where we encounter the resurrected one, too.

When we remember the events of this day, we are reminded that we are surrounded by messiahs: sports messiahs, political messiahs, even product messiahs whose advertisements promise they will save us. But Jesus is not the kind of messiah we expect; and in fact when compared to the usual messiahs, he's a failure. Even though Jesus is misunderstood, he's always very clear. So perhaps we're the ones who don't understand what kind of messiah we need?

The dinner party scene described by John is not a normal dinner party. Cultural protocols and appropriate boundaries are thrown out the window, and yet Jesus is ok with it. We are reminded that all barriers between us and Christ are human-made; and Christ ignores them all.