Parkside Church of Christ Sermons

"God hears their complaint as if it were a prayer... Rather than evaluating their complaint--both for content and tone, judging whether they were right or not in what they said and how they said it--God instead listens with empathy, hearing their grumbling in terms of feelings and needs."

"Easter's a day for those who've gone through it."

Join Wayne and Dan for a conversation about Jesus' authority in this week's midweek reflection. As they discovered as they talked, Jesus' authority presents a transformative challenge, but also a liberating hope!

“The reason Jesus came to earth was love, broken-hearted-but-refusing-to-give-up-love… The standing together, sticking out in the midst of the storm, kind of love. The til-death-do-us-part kind of love. The til-resurrection-finally-brings-us-back-together kind of love… It's the story of Jesus being faithful even when we weren't, Jesus being faithful on our behalf, inviting us to accept his faithfulness as if it were our own. It's God saying, ‘Despite everything, I'm going to stay true to my promise to love you, even to the point that it undoes the betrayal and heartbreak you've caused me. I still love you, and I'm asking you to love me back.'”

In our first mid-week reflection in our Journey to Easter, Dan invites us to ask ourselves, "Why am I here? What do I seek? Is it following Jesus on my terms, seeing what I can get out of it? Or have I come on this journey seeking God?"

"Our hope in all this is that, as we walk this road together—following Jesus alongside each other on the journey to Easter—we'll find ourselves in this crowd…. And as we walk forward together with Jesus in the weeks ahead, there's an invitation for each of us… For each of us—and for all of us together—it's an invitation to be formed, reformed, and transformed in the presence of the crucified and risen Jesus."

"God’s presence with them matters, not just for getting through this season, but for everything waiting for them on the other side. A future in which they get through but lose sight of God is a future to be mourned, to be grieved, to be avoided at any cost, even if it means staying put in the wilderness."

"Faithfulness is carrying a tambourine into the desert, holding tight to God’s future in the midst our present. But beyond that, this tambourine also strikes me as a profoundly prophetic symbol, as an instrument that prophesies just by showing up in this scene. Nothing says, 'Things aren’t the way they’re supposed to be, but God is at work making all things new' like owning a tambourine in slavery, like carrying a tambourine into the wilderness. The simple choice to pack this item is an act of forth-telling, a proclamation of God’s truth in challenging times." Painting: Nathalie Villeneuve, pauseandpaint.com Song: Pentatonix

Cassie Summers-Corp: In the thin spaces of life as birthworkers, Shiprah and Puah saw a tiny picture of hope in the midst of their despair, in the midst oppression, in the midst of hopelessness and pain and murder and tragedy and very little cause for happiness or hope. Every day they saw a tiny picture of the way that God intended it to be.

Fred Rogers: “Deep down, we know that what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves; what really matters, is helping others win too—even if it means slowing down and changing our course now and then… (so)make those choices which will allow you and your neighbor to become the best of whoever you are.” Paul: “We who are strong have an obligation to bear the weaknesses of the weak, and not to please ourselves, so let’s each please our neighbor for their good, to build them up.” Wayne: "We who share in the same story, the same Christ, and the same Spirit can share in the same commitment to join in the life of God by making the kindest choice, acting for the good of our neighbors by bearing their weaknesses rather than exploiting our strengths."

"God’s gift of peace draws together all of the things I’m finding myself longing for—for us and our neighbors—these days; it brings together non-anxious presence and healing and justice all into one package. It’s the perfect gift, and it’s what we need most. We need the non-anxious presence of God in the midst of our fears. We need God’s healing in the midst of pandemic and the distress it creates. And we need God’s justice in the midst of both personal prejudice and systems of oppression, the sin that dominates our institutions and sneaks into our hearts."

"The weeks and months ahead will be defined by our commitment--or lack thereof-- to look not to our own interests, but to the interests of others... Love means asking “What’s that like for you?” listening in order to understand, and then repeating that two-step cycle over and over again."

“As a result of God’s presence, what are you called to do? It is the Holy Spirit that propels us to do the things that we do, to see injustice and not be silent. It’s our way of demonstrating what it means to be a follower of Christ… And so, how can we remain as quiet as we have typically been?” -Sylvia Rose

"In hindsight—from the future vantage point of God’s abundance in which the psalmist can sing “God has kept our souls among the living, and has kept our feet from slipping!”—this wilderness season is also revealed to be a time of transformation and presence. It’s uncertain, long, and just so ambiguous. And God is with us in it, forming us into the church we’ll need to be to join in God’s future."

"This has been a deathly valley for our world, our tables are surrounded by an invisible enemy, and this has got me feeling pretty vulnerable. And at the same time—alongside all that—I think we’ve been discovering God’s presence at those same tables, in that same valley. Like a shepherd with sheep, God’s been walking alongside us through this wilderness, setting a table for us in the presence of an unexpected enemy. In the words of Jesus in Luke 10, we may be sheep among wolves, but the kingdom of God has come near."

"The first Easter celebrations—the first encounters with the risen Christ—all happened in isolated, anxious spaces: in locked homes, outside tombs, on nervous neighborhood walks, and around kitchen tables. When Jesus rises from the dead, the very first places he appears are places of fear, grief, uncertainty, and doubt... The God who raised Jesus from the dead and will one day raise us is with us in our homes, roads, tables, and tombs even now, raising up new life in surprising places, making something beautiful in the midst of our pain." Song: "Beautiful Things" recorded by Psalm 100 (UNC-Chapel Hill)

"On the cross, the full cacophony of human cries are drawn up into the single voice of Jesus. All of our Hosannas find expression in Jesus’s prayers of desperation and despair. Amid all the millions of voices crying out for salvation—among all the prayers we shout, the prayers we whisper, and the prayers we can’t put into words—this voice rings out from the crowd: the voice of the God who has joined in our longing, the cry of the savior who lived and died as one of us. This is at least part of what God’s victory entails: participation in our cries, our loss, and our death. Our Hosannas have been taken up into God’s experience, into who God is. In Jesus, God died alone so that no one else would ever have to." Poem: "Friday" by Amena Brown Song: "O Sacred Head, Now Wounded" recorded by Chris Shields

The mission of God is, perhaps first and foremost, a mission of divine empathy. Long before we stepped into God’s life, God stepped into ours. In the incarnation and crucifixion, Jesus became what we are—vulnerable, mortal, lonely, sad. Even in our spaces of isolation and loss... Jesus has joined us in our weeping. We have not been left alone. God has not been left unshaken. Jesus is with us through the Spirit, sharing in our tears even as we wait for resurrection." Art Credit: "Unbind Me" by Lauren Wright Pittman

Meeting Jesus at the Well | John 4:5-42 | March 22 by Parkside Church of Christ

"Even when they were set aside as off-limits to others, God had come near to them in Jesus. In a context of social distance, Jesus had pulled up a seat at the quarantined table. The space where they felt most isolated and alone had, through a mundane sort of miracle, become the dwelling place of God-in-the-flesh... In our spaces of isolation and uncertainty, Jesus has joined us in our homes. Our space has been intersected by God’s space. Our tables have become the Lord’s table. And not just my table and your table--not just in my home and your home and each individual home--but in all our homes together at once. The Spirit with me in this space is the same Spirit with you in your space, the same Spirit at work in and among the homes and hospitals that make up our surrounding community. God has joined us in Christ and the Spirit, and in Christ and the Spirit, God is joining us together... For us, for now, that means finding creative, compassionate ways to participate in God’s love from afar. Even as we adopt practices of social distancing, we can’t allow ourselves to become distant socially. After all, comforting words about God’s presence with our friends, family, and neighbors only ring true when we join in that presence, even from afar."

"This is the story of God joining us in the wilderness. In Jesus, God has moved into the desert God seemed to have abandoned, joining us in the very place we are at our weakest. In Jesus, God hungers with us; God thirsts with us; God is tempted with us. And in Jesus, God does what we haven’t been able to do, opening up a new way, a new hope in the wilderness."