Podcasts about united methodist

Discover the global impact of the United Methodist Church with a special look at how the General Commission on Archives & History will impact our church and world by relocating from New Jersey to Dallas

Send us Fan MailThis week, I'm reaching back into the archive to reprise the most popular episode in the history of my podcast.The Rev. Ben Cremer has built a significant and growing social media presence—one that caught my attention when I stumbled across a lengthy essay he titled “Myths We Believe.” In it, Ben details the things he was taught to embrace but has since had to unlearn. As I read it, I was struck by how closely his journey tracked my own.Ben was homeschooled from kindergarten through twelfth grade in what he describes as “a deeply conservative environment in rural Idaho—as far right politically and theologically as you can imagine.” He would eventually serve as a pastor in a small, traditional, conservative church that mirrored Idaho's deep-red culture, and later as campus pastor at Cathedral of the Rockies, a progressive, affirming United Methodist congregation in Boise. He no longer serves as pastor at either church.When we recorded this conversation, Ben had recently appeared on Boise's local ABC affiliate, Channel 7, in a feature exploring politics and religion. The journalist interviewed two pastors at opposite ends of the spectrum: Blaine Conzatti, a conservative pastor affiliated with the Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches and president of the Idaho Family Policy Center, and Ben.In our conversation, Ben and I unpack his remarkable journey, beginning with those early homeschool years and a curriculum rooted in the “Christian Identity” movement—a worldview that denied the Holocaust, argued that slavery was good because it introduced Africans to Christianity, and taught that the separation of races was part of God's design.From there, Ben moved through college and graduate school, where he learned to read widely, ask questions, and pursue his curiosity. His passion for ministry took him through seminary and into pastoral ministry. But lonely, underpaid, and increasingly burdened by questions, Ben slipped into a dark spiritual depression.In this vulnerable and deeply open conversation, Ben tells his story of recovery, redemption, and transformation—and of finding a faith that is open, fresh, and alive.It remains the most listened-to episode in my podcast history. If you missed it the first time—or if you're ready to hear it again—I think you'll understand why.SHOW NOTESSign up for Ben's Newsletter INTO THE GRAYSupport the showBecome a Patron - Click on the link to learn how you can become a Patron of the show. Thank you!Ken's Substack PageThe Podcast Official Site: TheBeachedWhiteMale.com

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli with Foundry UMC, July 5, 2026, sixth Sunday after Pentecost. “We Know Who We Are”series. Texts: Jeremiah 22:13–16; Luke 14:12–24   This weekend our nation marks 250 years since the Declaration of Independence. This is an occasion for celebration. It's also an invitation to reflection. Moments like this invite us to look backward with gratitude, to look honestly at who we have become, and to consider what kind of future is still possible. This year those reflections seem incredibly important. Ours is a nation of extraordinary gifts and extraordinary contradictions. We inherit remarkable democratic ideals alongside a history that has too often failed to live up to them. We are living through another season when many of us are deeply concerned about our common life. Because our nation is broken. We see division deepen, neighbors dehumanized, militarism, cruelty and violence normalized, power abused for personal gain, and disregard for the rule of law. Perhaps you'd describe our situation differently, but I can't imagine anyone would argue that everything's OK. And while it doesn't make it any better, I think it's helpful to remember that what's happening in our nation and world right now has happened many times before. If the prophet Jeremiah were to wander into our capital city he would feel right at home—surely to his dismay. Let me explain by telling you a story. Jeremiah is preaching in the final decades before Jerusalem falls to Babylon. Assyria has collapsed. Egypt and Babylon are competing for power. Judah is caught in the middle. The world order is shifting dramatically and it is a time of profound national anxiety—about security, identity, economic stability, and the future. In our text, Jeremiah is speaking not to the people, but specifically to the king, Jehoiakim. And he's none too pleased with what is happening. But to understand why you need some backstory. Jehoiakim's father, Josiah, had been one of Judah's finest kings. He wasn't perfect, but he loved God, took the covenant and the laws established during Moses' time seriously, and sought to govern with justice. As Jeremiah remembers him, he “judged the cause of the poor and needy.” Then Josiah died unexpectedly on the battlefield. It was a devastating national loss. The future suddenly felt uncertain. Egypt quickly asserted control over Judah, deposing one of Josiah's sons and installing another—Eliakim, whose name Pharaoh changed to Jehoiakim (a classic power play). Jehoiakim wasn't in an enviable position. He was set up to do the bidding of Pharoah, required to pay tribute, and anxious about survival for himself and his people. Maybe it was the pressure or maybe it was pure opportunism, but Jehoiakim made a choice. Rather than “judging the cause of the poor an needy,” he consolidated power, exploited labor, and built a magnificent cedar palace as a symbol of royal prestige. Jeremiah looked at that palace and didn't celebrate its magnificence but instead says, “Woe to him who builds his house by unrighteousness...” He asked a different question than everyone else. Not, “Isn't it impressive?” but, “How did it get built? Who paid the price? Who was harmed in the process?” And then this: “Did not your father eat and drink and do justice and righteousness?” This may seem a random question, but it reveals that Jeremiah's critique isn't about having wealth or a comfortable life. In other words, Josiah wasn't a monk. He enjoyed the ordinary gifts of life. The difference isn't that one king denied himself while the other indulged himself. The difference is that one understood leadership as doing justice and practicing right relationship, while the other understood leadership as entitlement. One king governed as someone who knew God, while the other governed as though power itself could save him. Jeremiah continues, clarifying his critique: “Your father judged the cause of the poor and needy; then it was well. ‘Is not this to know me?' says the Lord.  But your eyes and heart are only on your dishonest gain, for shedding innocent blood, and for practicing oppression and violence.” Again, the question Jeremiah asks it key: “Is not this to know me?” If someone asked you to finish the sentence, “To know God is...” what would you say? To worship regularly? To believe the right things? To pray? I imagine all of those can be valid answers. But Jeremiah offers this: to know God is to set your eyes and your heart on what God cares about; to attend to the needs of the most vulnerable, to use power wisely, generously, and compassionately, to treat workers with fairness, to do justice. Is not this to know me? In every age there is a dominant story about what will make things in your life “well.” There are temptations and pressures to sacrifice the good of the “we” for the benefit of only “me.” And in every age, God's faithful are called to offer a counter-testimony. And just to finish storytelling time, Jehoiakim made his choice. He went to a lot of trouble to try to make himself and Judah look strong. He builds his palace, projects confidence, accumulates wealth, uses forced labor. But within about twenty years, Jerusalem is destroyed. His dishonest gain and self-serving choices did not make things well. The palace doesn't save anybody—not the nation and certainly not the people. Jeremiah saw that writing on the wall. And his message to the king is one we need to hear again and again: A society cannot create security—a nation will never be great—while abandoning God's call to compassion and justice. There is no separating our love of God from care of our common life. John Wesley would agree wholeheartedly. He insisted there is no holiness but social holiness. He didn't mean that we're saved by activism. He meant what we discussed last week: that grace blesses me AND creates “we,” forgives me and sends “us.” Ours is not a private practice. Grace always creates community, reshapes relationships, and spills over into the way we use money, exercise power, welcome neighbors, and seek the common good. Personal holiness overflows into public holiness. That's one of the gifts of being United Methodist. Our tradition has never imagined that following Jesus ends at the sanctuary door. For more than fifty years we've had something called the Social Principles—not as a substitute for Scripture or as a party platform, but as a guide for Christian moral discernment. They are our denomination's attempt to ask, together, “What does faithful discipleship look like in the complexities of modern life?” And in 2024, our worldwide church thoroughly revised them. That revision wasn't simply updating language. It reflects the wisdom of the faithful from our whole denomination—disciples from Africa, Europe, the Philippines, the United States, and beyond—asking together how the Gospel speaks into economics, creation care, technology, war and peace, migration, human dignity, and public life. The principles guide our action and advocacy, but we don't pretend every faithful Christian will reach identical conclusions about every public question. We also refuse to pretend that the Gospel has nothing to say about public life. Our United Methodist Social Principles remind us we don't have to figure all this out alone. We inherit Scripture. We inherit tradition. We inherit the wisdom of Christians around the world. All helping us answer Jeremiah's question: What does it mean to know God? Jeremiah says that to know God is to care about what and who God cares about. Again and again Jesus shows us how to live that. He sits down at tables with all kinds of people. And in today' Gospel, while dining with a prominent Pharisee, he quietly begins rearranging everyone's assumptions about belonging. “Don't invite only the people who can return the favor,” he says. “Invite those who cannot repay you.” Then he tells a story about a banquet where the invitation keeps widening until there is room for everyone God longs to gather. ...the invitation keeps widening until there is room for everyone God longs to gather. The table is big enough. Grace is abundant enough. And everyone—from the richest to the poorest, from stranger to friend—is invited to be filled. And then things are well. As we celebrate our nation's birthday, the question before us is not simply what kind of nation we want to be, but what kind of people God is calling us to become. Christians have always loved their country best not by confusing it with God's reign, but by measuring every nation—including our own—against God's justice, God's compassion, and God's welcome. So we keep listening for Jeremiah's question, “Is not this to know me?” And we keep allowing Jesus to reshape our imagination around his table where there is always another place and the invitation keeps reaching farther than anyone expected. Friends, we're about to come to that table. Every time we gather here, we embody a different story from the one our world tells. The world teaches us to ask: Who deserves a place? Who has earned it? Who belongs? Jesus asks different questions: Who still needs an invitation? How can we make more room? And then he places bread in our hands and sends us back into the world to live the answer. Amen.   + + + Sending: This week, take one faithful public step. Maybe it is serving. Maybe it is giving. Maybe it is speaking up for someone whose voice is overlooked. Maybe it's inviting someone who wouldn't expect an invitation. Maybe it is reading a section of the Social Principles and asking where they challenge or deepen your own thinking. Not because the church is trying to tell you what to think, but because discipleship asks us to think faithfully about the world God loves. Just take one step. Because that's where holiness always begins. God in peace and power…

This week, Scott is joined by former colleague Ilka Vega, who has traveled the world serving in various mission, justice, and advocacy roles and is currently serving as the Executive for Economic and Environmental Justice at United Women in Faith. The Texas Impact team first met Ilka when she was a high school student at the Lydia Patterson Institute in El Paso, a United Methodist affiliated school in El Paso primarily serving students who walk across the border from Mexico, when Ilka attended her first United Women in Faith Legislative Event. Scott and Ilka talk about her journey from Lydia Patterson, her work in climate and immigration advocacy and her current work with United Women in Faith. We hope you enjoy this episode and invite a friend to listen along. If you share it in your social media, make sure to tag us! To learn more or get involved, check out Texas Impact's Action Center at texasimpact.org.     Weekly Witness is hosted by Scott Atnip and engineered and produced by David Vassallo. Our executive producer is Bee Moorhead. Theme music by Kimberly Zielnicki, Hayden Havard and Andres Garcia-Bonilla. The opinions expressed on Weekly Witness are those of Texas Impact and our guests, and they do not necessarily reflect the views of our sponsors. Weekly Witness is a product of Texas Impact. Visit us online at texasimpact.org.   

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli with Foundry UMC, June 28, 2026, fifth Sunday after Pentecost. “We Know Who We Are” series. ​​​ Texts: Romans 6:3-11; Luke 24:28-35​​​​   Humans are storytelling creatures. Our stories help us understand who we are and how life works. They teach us how people have lived and thought and loved and struggled through the ages. They give us a framework for how to be in relationship. Humans are also ritual-making creatures. Just as the stories we tell shape our sense of identity and reality, so too rituals shape our actions and the way we embody our values. Every culture has stories that shape human imagination and understanding. Every culture has rituals that shape human desires and loyalties. While powerful, formative, and often positive, we know stories can be told in ways that distort truth and do harm. And rituals can include habits that are unhealthy or destructive to persons or communities. Consumerism tells a certain story and has its rituals. White Christian Nationalism tells a certain story and has its rituals. Political tribes tell their own stories and have their rituals. Social media…well… All these things and more tell us who we are and what matters most. Christians also tell a story and practice rituals—it's a story of God's grace, mercy, and liberating love. And the rituals? Water. Bread. Cup. A few weeks ago, as we began focusing on the United Methodist way of living the Christian story, we thought together about the means of grace and the practices that shape us. We reflected on how we are all being formed by something. The question is: What is forming us? What stories, rituals, and practices are shaping our imagination, our desires, and our values? The sacraments are among the primary ways God shapes us into the people we are called to be. And because these rituals are so familiar, it is easy to participate in them without ever stopping to ask what they mean. Why do we call themsacraments? What do United Methodists actually believe is happening when we baptize someone or come to the Lord's Table? These are important questions to ask. Because if we are going to know who we are, then we need to understand the practices that have formed Christians for centuries and the theology that stands behind them. Let's begin with the word sacrament itself. United Methodists define a sacrament as “an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.” In other words, sacraments are the places where the invisible grace of God takes visible form. I could reasonably argue that, with that definition, every act of beauty, love, tenderness, and justice are sacramental acts. But the two liturgical sacraments recognized by our tradition are those Jesus specifically commanded his followers to practice in the stories recorded in scripture: baptism and communion. Here again, our rituals are embedded in our stories and our stories are embedded in our rituals. Stories and rituals belong together. In many cultures, stories are not merely told. They are enacted. Danced. Sung. The story becomes part of the people through repeated actions that connect memory to the body. Christians do something similar. We do not merely tell the story of God's grace.We enact it. We embody it. In baptism, we tell not just one story, but many: the story of dying and rising with Christ, of being washed by grace and mercy, and of being claimed and named as God's beloved and part of the Body of Christ. The beauty of sacrament is that it can hold multiple meanings at once. And we don't simply talk about those things. We pour water. We listen for the sound of the flow. We feel the water on our skin. In communion, we tell the stories of Christ's sacrificial, self-giving love, of God's provision and faithfulness; we reaffirm the story of God's mercy—of forgiveness, reconciliation, and belonging. But we do not simply describe those things. We break bread. We share the cup. The story is embedded in these rituals. The rituals carry the story. And over time, the story carried by the ritual shapes the people who practice it. One United Methodist resource describes the sacraments as God's “show and tell.” I love that image. If you've ever watched a child during show and tell, you know that simply describing something isn't the same as holding it in your hands. God doesn't simply tell us that grace is real. God shows us. Think about it: God showed us by drawing near in flesh, in Jesus of Nazareth. Andthat is just the most extraordinary way God has revealed a willingness to work through physical things. The God who came to us in a body still meets us through tangible signs: Water. Bread. Cup. So let's linger with some of the stories our sacraments tell. First, baptism tells the story of grace that comes before our response. In many churches, baptism is understood primarily as a public declaration of faith—as a person's decision to accept God's love and to follow Christ. There is truth in that. But United Methodists begin somewhere else. We begin with God's action. Before we choose God, God chooses us. Before we respond to grace, grace is already at work in our lives. Before we seek God, God is seeking us. That conviction lies behind one of the practices that often raises questions: infant baptism. Why do we baptize babies who cannot yet profess faith for themselves?Because baptism is first and foremost a story about God's grace, not our achievement. It is a visible reminder that grace comes first. Before a child can speak a word, God has already spoken a word over them: Beloved. Of course, each person must eventually respond to God's grace for themselves. But regardless of age, baptism reminds us that the first move always belongs to God. Baptism also tells the story of belonging—to God and to one another. In baptism, God claims me. And God joins us. When we baptize someone, we are not simply celebrating an individual spiritual experience or handing someone a ticket to heaven. We are welcoming a new member into the Body of Christ. That is why the congregation makes promises. We promise to nurture, encourage, teach, pray, and journey alongside one another. Baptism tells us who we are—beloved children of God. And baptism tells us who we are together—a people, a community, a body, a family bound together by grace and by a shared story. Baptism also tells the stories of forgiveness and liberation. The waters are a sign of God's mercy and cleansing, assuring us that nothing we have done or will do lies beyond God's capacity to forgive, that we are not bound to the worst things in our past or present, but freed for better things in our future. And the waters tell yet another story. Paul tells us in Romans that in baptism we are united with Christ in his death and resurrection. We die to an old way of being.We are raised into new life. Baptism is not simply about where we have been. It is about who we are becoming. It's about claiming the freedom and power God gives us to live a new kind of life. So baptism is the sacrament that initiates us into the Christian life both as persons and community. And Communion is the sacrament that nourishes us along the wayand continually reconnects us to Christ, to one another, and to our neighbors. We call it the Lord's Supper because Christ is the host. We call it Holy Communion because we are united with God and one another. We call it Eucharist (from the Greek word for thanksgiving) because it is an act of thanksgiving. But perhaps the most important thing to understand is that communion is more than remembering a dead prophet. It is being present with a living Christ. Certainly, we remember Jesus at the table. But United Methodists believe something more is happening—that communion is more than merely symbolic. We believe Christ is truly present. We call it a holy mystery precisely because we don't claim to fully understand how. But we trust that Christ meets us here and offers grace through the sacramental meal. Once again, as with Baptism, the sacrament is both personal and communal. At thetable Christ invites, forgives, and nourishes me. At the table Christ forms, nourishes, and sends us. Personally, we come seeking grace, forgiveness, strength, comfort, courage, and renewal. But communion is never merely about “me and Jesus.” Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 10 that because there is one bread, we who are many are one body. At the table we practice belonging to one another. We remember that our lives are bound together. We learn gratitude, humility, reconciliation, and love. The table does not simply feed individuals. It forms a community. This conviction also helps explain why United Methodists practice an open table.You do not have to be a member of this church, or a United Methodist, or to have everything figured out, or even to be baptized. The invitation belongs to Christ our host. And because grace comes before worthiness, Christ's table remains open. I will never forget the moment when a committed atheist who had been attendingthe congregation I served with her fiancé for more than a year, presented herself in line to receive the elements saying, “I have no idea why I am here, but I just felt that I needed to come.” People might encounter Christ for the first time in the midst of the gathered Body of Christ around the Table. Because sometimes people are moved to respond before they have language for what is happening. Sometimes grace reaches us before we understand it. John Wesley strongly encouraged frequent communion because he believed it was one of God's most powerful means of grace. Early American Methodists often received communion only quarterly because circuit-riding preachers and ordained elders were scarce. What began as necessity became habit. The church I grew up in still practiced quarterly communion! But in recent decades we have reclaimed Wesley's conviction that we need all the sacramental grace we can get! And so we return again and again to water, bread, and cup. Simple, ordinary things.Yet through them the story of God's grace is told, embodied, and practiced.Through them God reminds us who we are. Through them God reminds us whose we are. And through them God continues to shape us—both as individuals and as a community—into the likeness of Christ. Because over time, the stories embodied in our rituals become the lives we learn to lead. Thanks be to God. Thanks be to God.

The Smith and Rowland Show takes on a troubling headline in this episode, as Alan Smith and Jeff Rowland discuss Asbury Theological Seminary being removed from the United Methodist approval list after refusing to abandon the Bible's teaching on marriage. This conversation goes beyond one school and one decision. The guys walk through Asbury's long history of revival, including major spiritual outpourings on campus in 1905, 1908, 1921, 1950, 1958, 1970, 1992, 2006, and the widely discussed 2023 Asbury outpouring. They also talk about what made those moments stand out, prayer, confession, repentance, worship, reconciliation, and a hunger for God's Word. Along the way, Alan and Jeff confront the larger drift inside the United Methodist Church, the pressure to conform biblical convictions to culture, and the growing conflict between Scripture and modern ideology. Their discussion is direct, plainspoken, and rooted in the conviction that Christians should stand on the authority of God's Word, no matter the cost. If you care about revival history, biblical conviction, church doctrine, and the future of the American church, this episode is one you'll want to hear all the way through. Join the conversation, share your thoughts in the comments, and subscribe for more from The Smith and Rowland Show. #Asbury #UnitedMethodistChurch #Revival #BibleTruth #TheSmithAndRowlandShow

This week, we welcomed the District Superintendent of the Puget Sound District of the Pacific Northwest Annual Conference, the Rev. Mark Galang. In his sermon, he didn't flinch from the difficulty. Instead, he sat with the hard questions and found something we often miss: the climax of this story isn't Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son. It's God's refusal to let it happen! 

This week we continue our series, Beyond Fear, and turn to the story of God widening the circle of God's love in Ishmael. While fear asks, "Who is in and who is out?", we put our hope in a God whose loves is always larger than our fear. 

I AM the Gate | Rev. Kevin Johnson | John 10:1-10Podcast Description:What did Jesus mean when he said, "I am the gate"?In this message from John 10:1-10, Rev. Kevin Johnson explores one of Jesus' lesser-known but deeply meaningful "I AM" statements. Using the story of his family's adventurous beagle, Donut, Kevin illustrates why gates matter—and how Jesus serves as both our protector and provider.Drawing on the imagery of sheep, shepherds, and ancient sheepfolds, this sermon reveals how Jesus invites us into the safety of God's care while also sending us out into the abundance of God's provision. We are reminded that faith is not about restriction or limitation but about finding the abundant life Christ promises.This message explores: The meaning of Jesus as "the gate" in John 10  How God protects us from spiritual predators  The connection between Jesus the Gate and Jesus the Good Shepherd  The rhythm of being gathered and sent in the Christian life  Why abundant life is at the heart of the Gospel  How worship, prayer, and Christian community help sustain us Whether you're feeling lost, overwhelmed, or simply seeking a deeper understanding of Jesus' words, this sermon offers encouragement that Christ knows your name, welcomes you home, and leads you into life that is full, meaningful, and abundant.Scripture: John 10:1-10Keywords: Jesus, I Am the Gate, John 10, Good Shepherd, abundant life, Christian sermon, Bible teaching, Gospel of John, discipleship, faith, spiritual growth, worship, church, United Methodist, North Raleigh UMC, Christian living, grace, protection, God's provision, shepherd and sheep, abundant living, following Jesus, Christian encouragement, Rev. Kevin Johnson, Raleigh NC.About North Raleigh UMC: North Raleigh United Methodist Church is a welcoming church in Raleigh, North Carolina, helping people connect with God, grow in faith, and serve others in Jesus' name. Learn more at North Raleigh UMC.

Tammy Mills⁠ and I finally met in real life for this interview. Her journey from never being allowed to play sports as a kid to running the New York City Marathon when she turned 60 is one I know you will find inspiring.During this episode, sponsored by ⁠Noogs⁠ and ⁠Batch⁠, we talk about:How she found her coach, Christi Dee, after attempting to train for the New York City Marathon using multiple training appsGrowing up in Selma, Indiana and never being allowed to play sports as a kidFinding running in her 30s while getting sober, and running the Indy Mini with Ken Long's training programHer infamous "Jump the Gun" story — and the lady with the purse who passed herTruly finding running in her 50s after realizing she couldn't keep up with her kids at a Tamika Catchings basketball campRunning from mailbox to mailbox until she fell in love with movementHer first marathon at Indianapolis Monumental in 2016 — buying new shoes the day before and swearing she'd never run another oneRunning five marathons total, including the Kentucky Derby Marathon and Shamrock MarathonHer ultramarathon debut at The Full Mo, finishing despite a serious foot cramping injuryBecoming a Peloton devotee through Robin Arzon and the Swagger Society communityRunning the New York City Marathon with Kathrine Switzer's 261 Fearless team for her 60th birthdayHer mantra, "you don't know what you can't do," and how it carried her through training and the race itselfHer path to becoming a United Methodist pastor, getting defrocked after coming out, and eventually being "re-frocked" and serving a church in Michigan CityMeeting her wife Nancy, their fight to legally adopt their children as a same-sex couple in Indiana, and celebrating Pride Month together as a family32 years of sobriety and how running and gratitude have transformed her lifeHer love of building Lego and her Instagram account, mills365legoHeading back to New York City Marathon this fall, running for ⁠Tell Every Amazing Lady⁠ (ovarian cancer research)Previous Guests Mentioned⁠⁠Whitney Heins⁠⁠ - Episode 163⁠⁠Mike Vollmer⁠⁠ - Episode 156⁠⁠Christi Dee⁠⁠ - Episode 3⁠⁠Mary Pittman⁠⁠ - Episode 10Sponsor Details⁠Noogs⁠ - Use ALLYB for 15% off⁠Batch⁠ - Use FINISH for 30% offOther Links⁠Support Tammy's Tell Every Amazing Lady NYC Marathon fundraiser⁠Follow me on Instagram ⁠@allytbrett_runs⁠⁠Subscribe to Finish Lines & Milestones weekly newsletter⁠This is a ⁠SandyBoy Productions⁠ podcast.

This week, we welcome Brian Fu, our Director of Discipleship and Care, to preach his last sermon with us before we goes to serve both Colby and Gig Harbor United Methodist Churches. In this sermon, he challenges us to not hinder God's blessings for others!

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli with Foundry UMC, June 7, 2026, Second Sunday after Pentecost. “We Know Who We Are”series. Texts: Romans 12:1-2, 9-13; Acts 2:41-47   Last week we reflected on grace. We remembered that God's grace comes before we ever think about God, before we ever do anything right, before we ever earn anything. Grace comes first. Grace comes last. Grace is always the ground beneath our feet. This week the question is: If grace comes first, how does grace actually change us?   I grew up before car seats were common. Heck—I regularly rode in the back of my dad's or grandpa's pickup truck to get ice cream or drive out to the lake. Looking back, it feels like I was raised in the Wild West!?  As a teenager, I'd been driving a year or so when a new law was passed that required seatbelts. We started hearing about studies showing how seatbelts saved lives. There were those crash-test dummy commercials—remember those? But putting on a seatbelt wasn't something I thought about.  And so every time I got into the car, I had to remind myself: Put on your seatbelt. Sometimes I'd forget. Sometimes I'd remember halfway down the road. But I kept doing it. And then one day I noticed something. I was driving somewhere and realized I already had my seatbelt on. I hadn't thought about it. I hadn't reminded myself. I had just done it. What had once felt awkward and inconvenient had become a habit. It had become instinct. I had practiced and learned a new thing.   Most of us understand this when it comes to driving. Or learning an instrument. Or speaking a language. Or playing a sport. Or exercising.   A friend once told me, “Nobody likes running when they first start. You have to just do it. After a while you'll reap the benefits.” I never forgot the wisdom. You may not start out loving the practice. But you practice because of what the practice is shaping you to become.   And I've been thinking this week that much of the Christian life works the same way. Many of us want to become more loving, more patient, more generous, more courageous. We want to respond to conflict with grace. We want to be less fearful and more trusting. We want our lives to reflect the love of Christ. But how does that happen?   John Wesley believed that the goal of the Christian life was what he called “Christian perfection.” Unfortunately, that phrase has caused confusion for generations. Wesley wasn't talking about becoming flawless. He wasn't talking about never making mistakes. He wasn't talking about acting like we've got it all together. He was talking about becoming so filled with the love of God that God's love begins to overflow from our lives.   I often picture it like a pitcher being filled with water. As we open ourselves to receive God's love and mercy—God's grace!—we are filled. And just as a pitcher overflows once it becomes full, so God's love begins to overflow in our lives. Love spills over. Mercy spills over. Compassion spills over. Generosity spills over. Wesley believed that this could happen. In fact, he believed it was the goal of those who would follow Christ.   Or as the hymn puts it: “Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of thy love.” I love that phrase. The impulse of thy love. Because it suggests a life in which love becomes our first instinct. A life in which generosity and mercy become as natural as breathing. A life in which our hands move at the impulse of God's love. Wouldn't that be something?   The question is: How do we become those people? And Wesley's answer was surprisingly practical. We practice. We train. We place ourselves again and again in the flow of God's grace. Wesley called these practices “means of grace.” Prayer. Scripture. Worship. Holy Communion. Christian conversation and accountability. Small groups. Acts of mercy and service.   And this week, I want to invite you to choose one. Not all of them. Just one. Spend a few minutes each day reading scripture. Or pray each morning before you reach for your phone. Or read a daily devotion. Or intentionally perform one act of kindness or service each day. Choose one way to place yourself in the flow of God's grace and practice it every day this week.   These are means of grace not because they are things that earn God's love or make God love us more. They are not means of grace because checking enough religious boxes gets us into heaven. But because these practices place us where God's transforming grace can reach us. God's grace is always present—whether we're practicing the means of grace or not. But these practices have been shown over the centuries to place us in the flow of God's grace in a very concentrated way.   There is a distinction between trying and training. Anyone can try to run a marathon. But only someone who trains will actually finish one. The same is true of the Christian life. Anybody can try to be more loving. Anybody can try to be more patient. Anybody can try to forgive. But becoming Christlike requires more than trying. It requires training in grace.   This is why Methodists became Methodists. John Wesley was nothing if not methodical. The early Methodists became known for their methods—the practices and habits that helped them grow in love of God and neighbor. And that brings us to Romans 12.   After eleven chapters proclaiming the mercy and grace of God, Paul writes: “I appeal to you therefore...on the basis of God's mercy...” Paul doesn't begin with an appeal based on obligation or guilt or fear, but rather an appeal on the basis of God's mercy. Grace comes first. Then Paul says, “Present your bodies as a living sacrifice.” Notice that he doesn't say, “Present your beliefs.” He says, “Present your bodies.” The Christian life isn't simply a set of ideas we agree with. It is a way of life. It is embodied. It is practiced.   Then Paul says: “Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds.” This is such a perennial call—true in every age! It is easy to become conformed to the things of this world. All of us are being formed by something. The news forms us. Social media forms us. Fear forms us. Our families, culture, and education form us. The question is not whether we are being formed. The question is: By what?   Paul doesn't tell us to transform ourselves. He says, “Be transformed.” God is the one doing the transforming. Our work is to place ourselves where God's grace can do its work. And then Paul immediately shows us what a transformed life looks like: Let love be genuine. Love one another. Rejoice in hope. Be patient in suffering. Persevere in prayer. Practice hospitality.   These things are not feelings. They are practices. They are things we do again and again until they begin to shape who we are. Nobody wakes up one day naturally hospitable. Nobody wakes up instinctively patient. Nobody wakes up automatically generous. These things are formed through grace and practice.   And then our reading from Acts shows us what that formation looks like in community. The Spirit comes at Pentecost. Thousands are baptized. A movement is born. And what do they do next?   Luke says: “They devoted themselves.” That may be the most important phrase in the whole passage. They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. They devoted themselves. Not occasionally or when it was convenient or when they felt inspired. They devoted themselves. They showed up again and again. They listened to the story of Jesus. They prayed together. They shared meals. They worshiped together. They cared for one another. And over time something happened. They became a different kind of people.   Their possessions became less important than their neighbors' needs. Their tables became larger. Their hearts became more generous. Their lives became more joyful. Their witness became more compelling. The Pentecost miracle of Acts 2 is not only that the Spirit came in a wondrous way and moved previously fearful disciples to do wondrous things. The miracle is also that people kept showing up. They devoted themselves to practices that opened them to God's grace. And God's grace formed them into a community that looked different from the world around them. They were not conformed to their age, but were transformed by the saving grace and love of God in Christ Jesus.   Friends, this is part of who we are as United Methodists. We have practices. We have rhythms. We have a path: prayer, presence, gifts, service, and witness, and all the means of grace handed down through generations. They're not handed down because God needs them, but because we do. Not because they earn us salvation, but because they help open us to receive the grace that is already being offered.   And over time, through worship and prayer, through scripture and communion, through service and generosity, God does what only God can do. God transforms us. God fills us. And little by little, sometimes so gradually we hardly notice, our lives begin to move at a different impulse. The impulse of love. The impulse of mercy. The impulse of grace.   “Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of thy love.” That is the goal. It's not about perfectionism. The goal is perfect love—lives so shaped by God's grace that one day we discover we are no longer merely trying to love. By the grace of God, we have begun to move at the impulse of God's love. This week, choose one way to place yourself in the flow of God's grace. Not because God needs it. Because you do.  

In this brief update, Pastor Mark shares plans for his renewal leave from June 21 through August 3. During this season of rest, prayer, and renewal, there will be a temporary pause in podcast and YouTube episodes. Thank you for your prayers and support, and be sure to stay connected through the weekly worship livestreams and guest messages from First United Methodist Church of Cocoa Beach. Grace and peace, and see you in August! 

What did Jesus mean when he declared, "I am the light of the world"?In this message from John 8:12-20, Rev. Laura Johnson explores one of Jesus' most powerful "I AM" statements, spoken during the Festival of Booths while standing beside the massive lamps that illuminated Jerusalem. Through stories of caving in complete darkness and finding her way through a foggy campground at night, Laura invites us to consider how Christ's light guides us when life feels uncertain, exposes what we would rather keep hidden, and helps us see ourselves and others through God's grace.This sermon examines the biblical background of Jesus' claim, the significance of the Temple treasury and the Festival of Booths, and how God's people were guided by a pillar of fire through the wilderness. Along the way, Laura reflects on spiritual discernment, the work of the Holy Spirit, self-examination, grace, forgiveness, and the church's calling to reflect Christ's light into a dark world.Whether you're facing a difficult decision, navigating uncertainty, wrestling with fear, or seeking a deeper understanding of Jesus' identity, this message offers encouragement that we do not walk alone. Christ continues to illuminate the path before us and calls us to shine that same light for others.Scripture: John 8:12-20Topics: Jesus, I AM statements, Light of the World, Gospel of John, Christian discipleship, faith, spiritual guidance, Holy Spirit, grace, forgiveness, spiritual growth, United Methodist, North Raleigh UMC, biblical teaching, Christian living, darkness and light, prayer, church community, following Jesus, Christian sermon, worship message.About North Raleigh UMC: North Raleigh United Methodist Church is a welcoming church in Raleigh, North Carolina, helping people connect with God, grow in faith, and serve others in Jesus' name. Learn more at North Raleigh UMC

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli with Foundry UMC, May 31, 2026, First Sunday after Pentecost, Confirmation Sunday. "We Know Who We Are"series. Texts: Genesis 1:26-2:3; Ephesians 2:4–10 There are some words in scripture that change everything. Not because they're long or unusual. But because they turn the whole story in a different direction. Today's passage contains two of those words: “But God.” Before we can appreciate those words, we need to know what precedes them. In the first 3 verses of Ephesians 2, Paul reminds the church in Ephesus of their old ways of being. The direct translation from the Greek is convoluted and confusing, but Eugene Peterson's interpretation from The Message helps us get the point: “It wasn't so long ago that you were mired in that old stagnant life of sin. You let the world, which doesn't know the first thing about living, tell you how to live…We all did it, all of us doing what we felt like doing, when we felt like doing it, all of us in the same boat. It's a wonder God didn't lose his temper and do away with the whole lot of us.” And then…. “But God…” The old story gets interrupted. It moves in a new direction. Which is good news because most of us know something about stories that seem stuck in a rut. Maybe you've carried shame for something you did years ago. Maybe you've convinced yourself that some part of your life is beyond repair. Maybe you've spent so long trying to prove your worth that you've forgotten who you are underneath all the striving. Maybe you've watched the news lately and wondered whether cruelty and greed and fear are simply winning. The story goes one way. But God… That little phrase shows up all over scripture. Human beings build a tower to heaven. But God. Sarah is too old. But God. The sea is in front of them. Pharaohs army is behind them. But God. The disciples lock themselves in a room because they are terrified. But God. The cross stands on a hill outside Jerusalem. But God. Mary Magdalene despaired at the tomb. But God. Again and again, scripture insists that God is never limited by the stories we tell ourselves about what is possible. What a gift. Because one of the stories many of us carry is the story that we have to earn our way. This is so ingrained in our culture and mindset. We learn that story early. We learn it from grades and report cards. From performance reviews. From comparisons. From all the subtle ways the world teaches us to keep score. We absorb these lessons so deeply that eventually we begin to assume that God works this way too. God helps those who help themselves. God rewards the faithful. God blesses the deserving. God keeps score. But this is precisely the story Paul is trying to undo. Our temptation to slide into the world's quid pro quo economy isn't new. And in these few verses, Paul takes pains to refute it—not with an abstract argument, but by showing us, phrase by phrase, who God is and how grace works. So let's move through the text together and listen deeply to the word. Notice where Paul begins. “But God, who is rich in mercy...” Rich in mercy. Before Paul says anything about us, he says something about God. After describing the sorry, lost state of humanity, Paul doesn't say, “But we finally figured it out.” He doesn't say, “But we repented.” He doesn't say, “But we became more faithful.” He doesn't say, “But we got serious about our spiritual lives.” He says, “But God.” The turning point of the story is not a change in us. It is a revelation of who God is. “But God, who is rich in mercy...” Paul could have said simply, “God is merciful.” He doesn't. He says God is plousios (πλούσιος)—in the Greek: rich, abundant, lavish—in mercy. Possessing more mercy than we can imagine. This is so important! Because most of us have been trained to think in terms of scarcity. There's never enough time or money or security or opportunity. There is not enough to go around. There are only so many slices of any pie. And if we're not careful, we start to imagine that God's resources are limited too. Limited patience. Limited forgiveness. Limited love. Limited welcome. Only so many second chances. As though mercy were something God has to budget carefully. As though grace might run out. As though God were standing over us with a ledger, keeping score, calculating whether we've finally earned another chance. But Paul says, “Nope. That's not who God is.” Mercy is not scarce in God. Mercy is abundant in God. God's mercy is not pie—and there's not limited supply! Mercy flows from God as naturally as light from the sun. And lest we miss the point, Paul piles on another phrase: “Out of the great love with which God loved us.” It's almost as though he can't find enough words—mercy, love, grace, kindness. The language keeps overflowing because Paul is trying to describe a reality that exceeds ordinary human calculation. The world understands transaction. But God operates through grace. And perhaps that is why grace is so difficult for us to receive. We know how to earn. We know what it takes to achieve. We know the way to keep score. Many of us have spent our entire lives trying to prove that we are worthy of love, worthy of belonging, worthy of respect, worthy of a place at the table. And some versions of Christianity have reinforced exactly that impulse. Behave yourself and God will bless you. Believe the right things and God will reward you. Get your life together and God will finally accept you. Or the flip side: Mess up and God will punish you. Doubt and God will reject you. Fail and God will turn away. But Paul will have none of it. “By grace you have been saved.” Grace! We are not saved by following the rules or checking the boxes or through achievement or merit. The story isn't about keeping score or about earned interest and love averages. “By grace you have been saved.” Grace. One of the most beautiful insights of the United Methodist movement is that grace starts earlier than we think it does. We tend to imagine that grace begins the moment we become aware of God. But John Wesley said no. Grace was already there. We think grace begins when we decide to follow Jesus. Wesley said no. Grace was already there. We think grace begins when we repent. Wesley said no. Grace was already there. Before faith, grace. Before understanding, grace. Before discipleship, grace. Before baptism, grace. Before confirmation, grace. Long before we know how to pray, grace is already making a way toward us. Long before we know God's name, God knows ours. United Methodists call this prevenient grace—the grace that goes before. The grace that is always preceding us, drawing us, inviting us, wooing us toward life. And I don't know about you, but I find that to be astonishingly good news. Because it means that the story of faith begins not with our searching for God, but with God's refusal to stop searching for us. But Paul isn't finished. He goes further, saying God “made us alive together with Christ.” Alive—not merely forgiven or a little nicer. Alive. This is resurrection language. It is creation language. It's the language of new possibility. This strikes me as especially powerful in a world where so many people are exhausted and carrying grief. Where so many people are overwhelmed by the state of the world and struggling simply to keep their hearts open. Paul speaks a pastoral word into our lives, assuring us that grace is not merely about doing more today to get into heaven someday. Grace is the power that makes us alive right now. Alive to God. Alive to beauty. Alive to joy. Alive to compassion. Alive to possibility and hope. And there is something else here that often gets lost in translation. Paul doesn't say that God made me alive. He says God made us alive. The language throughout this passage is communal. Every “you” in the text is plural. It's not about me; it's about we. Which means the story is not simply about God saving isolated individuals. It is about God creating a people. A community. A new humanity. People shaped not by fear, scarcity, or competition, but rather shaped by grace, abundance, and love. Today, a group of young people will stand before us to profess their faith. And what moves me every year is that confirmation is not fundamentally about private belief. It is about belonging. These young people are not simply saying, “I believe.” They are saying, “This is my people. This is the community in which I will learn what it means to follow Jesus.” And we are saying, “We need you. Your voice, your gifts, your questions, your presence will continue to shape who we become.” Because grace doesn't merely gather individuals. Grace creates a people. Paul addresses this in what he says next. “We are what God has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works...” The Greek word translated here as “what God has made” is poiēma (ποίημα). It's where we get the word poem. You could translate it: We are God's handiwork. God's artistry. God's creative work. And suddenly the echo of Genesis comes into view. The God who formed creation, breathed life into dust, and called it good is still creating, still forming, still calling beauty forth from chaos and light from darkness. We spend so much of our lives trying to make ourselves. Trying to prove ourselves. Trying to justify ourselves. Trying to become enough. Paul says we are not self-made. We are God-made. We are God's handiwork, God's poem. God's art. God's ongoing project. And we are already enough—even as we keep learning and growing. Now, at this point, some people get nervous. If grace is this abundant, if salvation is truly a gift, if God's love comes before we earn it and before we deserve it, then what keeps us from simply doing whatever we want? Paul is clear that we don't earn our salvation. And he is equally clear that God created us for good works. Good works are not the cause of salvation, they are the fruit of salvation, evidence that grace is alive and active within us. Or to put it another way: God doesn't love us because we do good things. We begin to do good things because we have encountered the love of God. Grace is not an excuse to do nothing. Grace is an invitation to participate in what God is doing in the world. Grace is bigger than we think. It is not merely a drop of help when we're struggling or a nudge of encouragement when we're discouraged. It is not a small boost for the spiritual journey. It is the power of God's mercy and love constantly interrupting the stories that diminish life and opening up new possibilities we could never create on our own. And because grace is bigger than we think, it keeps interrupting the stories that tell us life can only go one way. The world says there isn't enough. But God is rich in mercy. The world says you have to earn your place. But God saves by grace. The world says shame gets the last word. But God is great in love. The world says what is dead is dead. But God makes us alive. The world says you're on your own. But God makes us alive together. The world says this is all there is. But God is still creating. Still shaping. Still calling life from dust. Still making all things new. The story was going one way. But God. Thanks be to God. Amen. + + + Keep a daily grace log. At the end of each day, ask: Where did I experience a “But God” moment today? Where did grace go before me? Where did mercy, love, beauty, hope, community, or possibility interrupt the story I expected?

This week, we continue our series, Beyond Fear, and turn to the call of Abram and explore how we might respond to God's call, not out of fear, but in trust of God's promise.

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli with Foundry UMC, May 24, 2026, Pentecost Sunday. “We Know Who We Are” series. ​​​​Texts: Acts 2:1-21; John 20:19-22​​​​   Last Tuesday evening, I found myself seated at a table listening to live jazz in the nave of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in NYC. The occasion was the celebration for my mentor, Rev. Dr. Serene Jones upon her retirement as president of Union Theological Seminary after an extraordinary 18-year tenure. It was such a gift not only to be in the room with and for Serene, but to reflect on her influence upon my life through her words, actions, and friendship. And when she rose at the end of the evening to address the crowd, she urged all of us to pay attention to the prompting of Spirit and to follow God's call on our life.   It was a gift to receive this charge: to ponder, remember, and honor God's call upon my life and how Spirit has been falling afresh on me at every age and stage of my journey. Sometimes Spirit's meddling and God's call have felt aggravating, disruptive, heavy, and even painful. But, with every twist and turn along the way, God has brought me through and Spirit has stirred me to keep going.   And the truth is, I didn't always recognize Spirit's presence while it was happening. Sometimes it was only later, looking back, that I could see how God had been nudging and guiding and sustaining me all along. Maybe you know something about that too. Maybe Spirit has shown up in your life in ways you didn't fully recognize at the time—in a relationship that changed you…a burden you couldn't shake…a moment of courage you didn't know you had…a conviction that kept growing in you…a grief that opened your heart…or a persistent tug toward compassion, justice, mercy, or love.   And it makes me think about how we focus just one day of the liturgical year on the miraculous story of Spirit blowing into the community of Jesus's disciples and setting them on fire to move out into the streets to tell God's deeds of power. But, really, Spirit is at work in all sorts of ways all the time.   I get it, though, why we make a whole day out of Pentecost. It is a powerful story, the church's origin story really, of the moment when the disciples realized that Jesus' promises would be kept—that the Holy Spirit would baptize them and empower them to continue the saving work of God in the world. That very day they did things that seemed impossible—they spoke in ways that people from all over the known world could understand. And in that moment Peter recognized and proclaimed the fulfillment not only of the promise of Jesus, but the prophecy of Joel. That God would pour out Spirit upon all flesh, empowering all to have visions and dream dreams and prophesy. It's very dramatic—like a sci-fi movie that brings unlikely people together acrossunimaginable odds to do extraordinary things—with the bonus of great special effects. And I love it! But I also recognize that Pentecost wasn't the first time Spirit showed up among the disciples. Maybe it was the first time they recognized so clearly the Spirit who had been carrying them all along.   How else were they able to have the courage to leave their familiar lives to follow Jesus? How else were they able to go into villages and tell the good news and care for the sick and those struggling with their demons? How, apart from Holy Spirit, did they feed the five thousand? How did they stay together after the trauma and terror of crucifixion?   And maybe that's why I love the quieter story in John chapter 20 so much. The disciples have had the wind knocked out of them. By grief, fear, trauma. By watching everything they thought was going to happen collapse before their eyes. They are huddled behind locked doors, trying to figure out what comes next.   And then Jesus comes among them—not first with demands or instructions, but with peace. “Peace be with you.” And then he breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” And honestly, I need to receive this right now and am pretty sure I'm not alone. I believe many people have had the wind knocked out of them. By grief. By fear. By the cruelty and chaos of this moment. By exhaustion. By disillusionment with the church. By watching Christianity so often get presented as domination instead of service, exclusion instead of welcome, certainty instead of compassion.   And on this Memorial Day weekend, many of us are carrying grief not only for lives lost in service, but also for the deep fractures in the country those lives sought to protect.   Many of us wonder whether the church can still mean something beautiful. Whether faith can still sound like Jesus.   We need the story we tell today! John and Acts tell it differently—but perhaps they are showing us two movements of the same Spirit. In John, Spirit comes like breath in a fearful room—restoring peace, courage, and life to weary people. In Acts, Spirit comes like wind in the streets—pushing those same people beyond fear and beyond every barrier to bear witness in a broken world.   But it is the same Spirit. The Spirit who restores breath to weary people. The Spirit who revives people who have had the life knocked out of them. The Spirit who reminds fearful people who they are.   And only then comes the sending. Jesus says, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you…” Notice that Jesus does not come into the room and say, “Once you've resolved all your fear…once you feel confident…once you fully understand everything…THEN I'll send you.”   No. The doors are still locked. The disciples are still afraid. And yet Jesus breathes Spirit into them anyway. God's mission doesn't wait for us to feel ready. Spirit meets us in the midst of fear, uncertainty, grief, and confusion—and sends us anyway.   What does it mean to be sent by Jesus as Jesus is sent by his Father? If the accounts of Jesus' life are our guide, then it means that we, like Jesus, are sent into the world to bring healing into places of suffering, hope into places of despair, mercy and forgiveness into places of sin, comfort into places of grief, peace into places of violence, love into places of hatred. To be sent as Jesus is sent is to be bearers of God's life in the world, to put our lives on the line for the sake of justice, and to stand in solidarity with those who are hurt by the systems of the day.   As disciples of Jesus Christ, we are a people who are not only gathered into the family of God—those who “go to church”—but we are also, inherently, a sent people, called to BE the church all the time and in every place we are.   Think for a moment of the life-giving rhythm of our bodies breathing in and breathing out. A healthy body needs to do both. The in-breath of the Body of Christ—the church—is the Spirit gathering us in to be loved, supported, fed, strengthened, and given purpose through sacrament and worship and study and community. Every Sunday or whenever we gather, the Body breathes in, takes in God's grace and power. And the out-breath is like the Spirit of God blowing out across the chaos of the world at the very beginning, bringing peace and new life. The “sent-ness” of the church is like that—the church moving out into the chaos and brokenness of the world to bring love, mercy, healing, and hope. Every day between Sundays the Body exhales, breathing the Spirit into places thirsty for life and hope and kindness.   As the founder of the Methodist movement, John Wesley, famously said: Do all the good you can, By all the means you can, In all the ways you can, In all the places you can, At all the times you can, To all the people you can, As long as ever you can.   I remember during the painful debates and divisions of the United Methodist General Conferences of 2016 and 2019, one of the pieces of legislation brought to the floor proposed changing the United Methodist mission statement—which is “To make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world”—by dropping the second half: “for the transformation of the world.”   I was aghast at the idea. It felt like a vision of discipleship focused only inwardly, as if Jesus followers were meant to crowd back into locked rooms and focus only on their personal “disciple” ticket. It sounded like a church withdrawing its prophets from proximity to the powers and principalities that so desperately need their voice. It sounded like a church trying to hold its breath. I'm happy to say the legislation didn't pass. Because the story of this day—the story of Pentecost, the story of the work of Holy Spirit in and through disciples across the ages—is clear: Spirit always exhales—sending us into the world to embody the love and justice of Christ. The way we say it at Foundry is “Love God. Love each other. Change the world.”   And so I want to extend to you the same charge I received from Serene: pay attention to the prompting of Spirit who is always at work and respond to God's call on your life. Every day. In all the ways and places and by whatever means you can. And if you aren't sure where to begin, I invite you to decide right now on one act of service or outreach you will do this week, even small, for the wider community. Just do one concrete act of service beyond your usual routine. It could be running an errand for a friend who needs a hand. Or calling your state or federal representatives. Or paying for someone's meal. Or any other thing that Spirit prompts.   Because Spirit has been nearer than you realized all along. And Spirit will keep giving you breath—and wind at your back—to move beyond yourself and into the wondrous, love-fueled mission of God.

This week, we launch our new sermon series exploring how God shapes ordinary people through blessing, disruption, doubt, mercy, and trust. Before we act, build, or grow, we are formed by a promise that frees us from fear and calls us to become Christ in the community.

Sunday, May 31, 2026 Message: "Why It's a Great Time to Be United Methodist"  Scripture: Matthew 28:16-20 By: Rev. Steve Price, Rev. Marisa Gertz, and Rev. Dr. Mark Charles Scripture https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%2028%3A16-20&version=NRSVUE Bulletins https://trinitygnv.org/s/Sunday-Bulletins-05-31-26-8AM.pdf https://trinitygnv.org/s/Sunday-Bulletins-05-31-26-930AM-WEB.pdf https://trinitygnv.org/s/Sunday-Bulletins-05-31-26-11AM.pdf Copyright: https://ccli.com/us/en/church-copyright-license Copyrighted content included in this webcast is used with license under one or more of the following: Christian Copyright Solutions WORSHIP cast Streaming License and PERFORM music License #7840 (to publicly perform and/or web stream any musical composition controlled by ASCAP, BMI, and SESAC), CVLI (Christian Video Licensing International) #503915511, CVLI ScreenVue License #502477880, CCLI Church Streaming & Podcast License #CSPL016331, CCLI Church Copyright License #1022361, and/or CCLI Church Rehearsal License #CRL011587.

Christina  Hello, everyone, I'm Christina Darnell, the managing editor of MinistryWatch. Welcome to the MinistryWatch podcast. In today's extra episode, I talk with Warren Smith about some news items that are slightly (even significantly) outside of our normal charity and philanthropy “beat.” So, Warren, what's up first? Warren I subscribe to Kate Bowler's Substack and read this week that she had spoken at Church of the Resurrection in Kansas City. When she wrote that this United Methodist congregation had 25,000 members, I was a bit incredulous. Christina United Methodist churches do not usually grow that large, especially these days. Warren So, I did some fact-checking, and she is right, though most online sources also say that weekly attendance at the church is closer to 6,000. Still, that is big. The church is centrist in theology and has so far managed to stay in the United Methodist Church without suffering a meltdown in attendance, though its growth has flattened in recent years. I am going to keep my eye on the church. It will be an interesting bellwether for the future of the UMC. Christina Moving on, there's a leadership transition coming up at a significant Christian organization. Warren After nearly six years of service, Kevin Van Horne has stepped down as Executive Director of International Fellowship of Evangelical Students/ USA. His last day was Friday, May 15, 2026. According to a statement from the organization, “Kevin led IFES/USA through a season of significant change, helping to serve our global fellowship and partners well. We are deeply grateful for his leadership and for the ways God has worked through him.” Dave Shepherd (Director of Finance) has been appointed to serve as Interim Executive Director. IFES was a MinistryWatch Shining Light Award winner in 2023 and has maintained excellent ratings from us since then. Christina Warren, I know you are always interested in demographics and statistics. But something special caught your attention this week. Warren That's right, and before I say what that was, let me as some rhetorical questions. What is the most significant problem facing America and the world? Nuclear winter? Global warming? Artificial intelligence? I would submit for your consideration the coming depopulation of the earth. For at least 30 years, most reputable demographers have been saying that the world population growth is slowing and will likely top out soon. By the year 2100 the world will be in the midst of a significant population decline. Christina And one thing that caught your attention is just how much this population decline will impact all areas of life on earth. Warren That's right. This decline will have enormous implications for every aspect of life. Cities built for millions of people will disappear, leaving a rotting infrastructure. Economic growth will be impossible. We are already seeing towns in the Midwest and West disappear. That trend will accelerate. Christina I've got to admit, Warren, that that sounds a bit melodramatic. Warren I think it's fair to be skeptical, but population demographics is one area of social science that has pretty sound prediction models. Birth rates have fallen to record lows, and they don't change that much from year to year. So it's actually pretty easy to predict what the population will be in the future. And the numbers don't look good. But if these predictions seem a bit melodramatic to you, I suggest reading a new article from The Atlantic, The Great Depopulation. A world with a shrinking and aging population will offer great opportunities for ministry, but for almost every country on the planet, it will be a culturally wrenching reality. Christina On May 17, an event called ReDedicate 250 brought speakers to the National Mall in Washington. The speakers included Eric Metaxas, Mark Driscoll, Sean Feucht, and Greg Locke – all men we've written about here at MinistsryWatch. Warren That's right. They are a part of what some are now calling the Dissident Christian Right. Christina What does that mean? Warren They are not quite Christian Nationalist, but not mainstream evangelical, either. Most assessments have judged the event as kind of a bust. A few thousand people attended, but DCR pundits had predicted many more. For example, The Christian Post reported that Robert Jeffress predicted the gathering “could be the nation's largest religious gathering in more than 50 years.” It is not clear what the attendance figures for this event forbode for the DCR movement, but the weak attendance was a surprise to me and to many who have been following the movement. Christina And there was a notable passing last week. Warren My friend Bob Woodson died last week at the age of 89. If you do not know about Bob's life and the legacy he leaves behind, I recommend reading John Stonestreet's excellent tribute. It was an honor for me to be a part of the Colson Center team that presented Bob with a Wilberforce Award in 2018. He was sui generis. One of one. I will miss him personally, and our country will miss his leadership. I helped arrange a trip for him to The King's College in 2010 to do a live interview with Marvin Olasky. That interview is worth a listen, and you can find it here. Christina Warren, you've mentioned before, that you are a fan of Carey Nieuwhof's leadership podcast. This week he dropped one of his most personal episodes ever. Warren He recounts how, about 20 years ago, he experienced a period of profound burnout. It is part of a two-part series on how to avoid burning out. I strongly recommend it. You can find the first episode here. Christina Warren, we need to wrap things up here. Any final thoughts before we go? Warren I'll be in Knoxville this week attending an event hosted by my former colleagues and good friends at The Colson Center for Christian Worldview. If you'd like to have lunch with me on Friday, let me hear from you. I'll be doing similar lunches in Denver and Colorado Springs in June. Let me know if you would like to join us. My email is wsmith@ministrywatch.com. Christina That brings to a close this EXTRA episode of the podcast. The producer for today's program is Jeff McIntosh. I'm Christina Darnell, along with Warren Smith. Until next time, may God bless you.

Text: 1 Corinthians 12:4-14, 27 May 17, 2026 Foundry United Methodist Church – Washington, DC Rev. T.C. Morrow Good morning! My name is Rev. T.C. Morrow. For the last twenty-four years I have been blessed to be a part of the Foundry community - first while finishing seminary, then like many of you serving in a variety of ways through the years, and when I formally became a clergyperson in the United Methodist Church, on the extended clergy team. In July, I will be starting as Senior Pastor at The United Church, a joint United Methodist and United Church of Christ congregation in Foggy Bottom. I am looking forward to my next adventures, but I am going to miss this Foundry community. I cannot start naming individuals or that will take all of my time, but I give my thanks to the three senior pastors during my time here: Rev. Dr. Phil Wogaman, Rev. Dean Snyder, and Rev. Ginger Gaines-Cirelli. I give thanks to God for their leadership, their guidance, their solidarity, and so much more. Today we are in the third week of a sermon series exploring foundations of Christian identity and discipleship. In a world full of competing messages about who we are, our purpose, and how we should live, we are returning to some of the core aspects of Christianity. We've already looked at our identity as beloved of God and how we are called to follow Jesus into a way of life shaped by God's love and grace. Today we're exploring the church and our belonging in it, the gathering in community of those seeking to grow in love of God and neighbor. Will you join me in prayer: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you O Lord, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen. As the U.S. nears its 250th anniversary, I've been thinking about some of the myths, like manifest destiny, that have shaped - or distorted – the direction of the country. As we gather this morning, not far from us, on the National Mall, others are gathering in what is ostensibly a day of prayer as part of activities marking the anniversary of the country. I looked at the speakers list. By all appearances, it is a Christian nationalist rally seeking to further solidify the myth that Christianity – a particular type of Christianity – is the only thing that will “save America.” I agree there is need for repentance in this country, but I think it is safe to say we deviate on specifics. I know that I do not need to repent for who I am as a lesbian and a beloved child of God. I do not need to repent for supporting my fellow trans Americans, and others who are being demonized and treated cruelly. But we do need repentance as a nation. Repentance from instilling fear and division. Repentance from greed and lies. Repentance from war mongering and violence. Repentance from the scapegoating of trans people, immigrants, non-Christians, and anyone who may be deemed “other.” Repentance from failing to uphold the common good. In today's scripture lesson, Paul names the reality of the diversity of the identities and the spiritual gifts of the community of Jesus followers in Corinth. Uniformity is not the goal; faithful interdependence is. Paul insists that there are indeed differences, and that it is only together, it is only collectively, that we are the body of Christ. Paul does not only acknowledge differences, he goes on to describe that we need the differences: “If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be?” Paul describes the need for robust diversity for the fullness of the church. Honoring diversity is biblical. Twenty-four years ago, a young lesbian couple – two cradle United Methodists with parents very involved in the church – decided to find a church home together. Logan and I wanted a church home where we could belong, as our full selves. We looked at a few options, and decided we wanted it to be a United Methodist Church, and with only a few Reconciling congregations at the time – churches that have gone on the record in support of LGBTQ+ inclusion – we ended up at Foundry. Logan quickly joined Jubilate, the choir at the then-9:30 service. Logan went to the Women's Retreat in the first year or two after we started attending, and Peggy Simpson was assigned as her roommate. It was fitting when a few years later the law changed in DC and same-sex couples could get married that Peggy graciously opened her home for our legal wedding, and then we had a celebration at Foundry with a service led by Rev. Dean Snyder. I attended the 2012 General Conference of The United Methodist Church with Rev. Snyder and several other members from Foundry. When there was no forward movement on LGBTQ inclusion through legislative change, LGBTQ+ people and allies sang in peaceful demonstration to the denomination they love and to themselves from Micah 6:8: “What does the Lord require of you?” We walked around the communion table and sang. A table that symbolizes God's reconciling activity through Jesus Christ. In one of the loops around the table, this non-musical child of God standing before you heard a word amidst the cacophony of sounds in the Tampa convention center: Stop waiting for the denominations rules to change. Put yourself forward as a candidate for ordained ministry. We are here today, by the grace of God, with different rules on the books thanks to the tireless work of advocates including several who are in this room today. And after a roadblock or two, a Judicial Council ruling or two, I was commissioned in 2019 and ordained in 2022. While it was my name in deliberations by the Annual Conference or in news stories, I was there as the visible representative of this community that kept saying over and over to the broader church that it was getting it wrong on the treatment of gay and lesbian and bi and trans and other queer people. It was only through the support, love, strength, and organizing work of this community that I was able to go on the journey that was my ordination candidacy process in The United Methodist Church. Christianity is meant to be practiced in community. Some make a theological case for this based on the relational aspect of God in the doctrine of the trinity. Some point to Paul's articulation of the church as the “body of Christ,” where no one body part is sufficient on its own and each part depends on the others. I personally wonder – how are you going to have a potluck by yourself? You can make yourself a dozen deviled-eggs or the best jello salad, but the whole point of a potluck is that no one brings everything, NO ONE HAS TO DO EVERYTHING. Each person does their part. There are certainly spiritual disciplines that are done individually: personal prayer, scripture reading, meditation, reflection, individual acts of compassion and advocacy. But Christianity is not a solo spiritual self-improvement project. Christianity is meant to be practiced in community. There are spiritual practices that we undertake together: worship, sacraments of baptism and communion, serving together, learning together, mutual care, accountability, sharing joys, being there for each other in the tough times. In the midst of a culture that too often celebrates self-sufficiency and radical individualism, the church is a place of interdependence. Paul says to the church in Corinth: “Now there are varieties of gifts but the same Spirit, and there are varieties of services but the same Lord, and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” For the common good. Not only for our personal betterment, but we are each given spiritual gifts for the common good. The interdependence is part of how God forms us. We learn generosity by sharing what we have, from a friendly greeting to our time to our resources. We learn humility by recognizing wisdom in unexpected places, including from a six-year-old giving a really good answer to Ms. Natalie during the children's message. We learn patience by working through differences and disagreements. Christian community is not always easy, but it is where we belong. This week I invite you to reach out to someone in the church – someone here at Foundry if you are a part of this community or of your own church community if you are visiting from another. I invite you to reach out to someone to check in with them. Maybe someone who you know has been having a particularly hard time lately, or someone you haven't seen at church in a few weeks or months. You might arrange a time for coffee or a meal, take a walk, or have a phone conversation. Plan brunch, schedule time for your kids to play together at the park, go to coffee hour with the intention of asking at least one person a few questions beyond the polite “how are you?” We live in a culture of curated images, quick fixes, and too often shallow connections. We need to make spaces where we can be our authentic selves. Where we can tell the truth about our lives. Where we can grow in love of God and neighbor. You might reach out to someone thinking that you are “helping” them, but I encourage you to be open to how God may be at work in that connection in ways you did not expect, shaping both of you. In the midst of increasing militarism and authoritarianism, in the midst of greed and lies, in the midst of racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia and so much more – our way through is together. There are days where we might want to do it alone. And rest and renewal are certainly important. And individual spiritual practices are important. But as Christians we belong together in community with other Christians to learn, to serve, to celebrate, to grieve, to remind each other that we are beloved children of God, no matter what anyone says. The body of Christ is not a collection of isolated spiritual consumers. It is a people learning how to belong to one another. I am looking forward to the next part of my adventure, but I am going to miss this community. I will carry with me so much and I give thanks to God for helping be a community that affirmed that I belong in the church, and that we all belong in the church. So #KeepShowingUp for each other. Give a wide welcome to those looking for a safe space to explore big questions and bring their full selves. Teach the children that God loves them. Let others care for you, and give that same care in return. Try out being an usher, or singing with the choir, or joining the prayer team, or helping out with Children's Worship. Join a small group. Participate in one of the ministries of care and justice. Be a vessel of hope in a world that desperately needs it. Remind each other that #GodIsYetAtWork in you and through you, Foundry United Methodist Church. And may it continue to be so. Amen.

This Sunday, we welcomed Rev. Cruz Edwin Santos, Director of Hispanic/Latinx Ministries for the Pacific Northwest Conference of The United Methodist Church as we celebrated Pentecost Sunday! He shared how the miracle of Pentecost wasn't that everyone suddenly sounded the same. It was that God showed up in every language, every culture, every story — and didn't ask anyone to leave theirs at the door.

Date May 24, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we trade the exhaustion of trying to "bat 1,000" for the scandalous grace of Pentecost—a day when God pours out a Spirit not for the perfect, but for "all flesh." We explore how our fragile, forgetful, and silver-haired humanity is exactly where the Holy Spirit chooses to take up residence. You are invited to stop waiting until you have it all together and instead become God's greatest surprise: the Risen Christ showing up in the middle of our beautifully broken lives. References Scripture: Acts 2:1–21 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

Rev. Jonathan Brown 05/11/2026 Sometimes the things that become central to who we are begin as a surprise. They do not always arrive with a clear plan, a perfect explanation, or a sense that we understand exactly what we are saying yes to. Sometimes a door opens, an invitation comes, a possibility appears, and only later do we realize that something important in us began to take shape there. When Francis came to us at eleven, he spoke very little English. I spoke no Spanish. Katy knew a bit. And DC Child and Family Services seemed to consider a person bilingual if they had Google Translate on their phone. Every day, I thank God because his young mind has been able to adapt to our language, while I still find myself cursing Duolingo. And since Francis became part of our family, he has also become an accomplished cyclist. He has won two Under 19 series championships, and he spends his free time training to get better. At our local bike shop, someone told us he was a unicorn because he fell in love with cycling even though his parents were not already obsessed with it. This was not a family culture he simply inherited. It became his. One day after a race, I was kind of in awe of him and all he had accomplished, and I asked him, “Francis, how did this happen? How did cycling become your thing?” And he said, “Do you remember when I first moved in with you, and you asked if I wanted a bike?” I said, “Yes.” And he said, “I did not know what you were saying, and I did not want to be rude, so I just said yes. Then I fell in love with it.” I love that. Because so much of life is like that. One day, seemingly out of the blue, something comes into our lives that we did not plan for and could not have predicted. At first, it may feel random. It may feel small. It may feel like a simple yes to a simple question. But over time, that unexpected beginning can become a practice, then a passion, then a major part of who we are. A bike becomes more than a bike. A first ride becomes a rhythm. A rhythm becomes a love. A love becomes part of someone's identity. And that helps me hear Mark's story with fresh ears. Simon and Andrew do not wake up that morning knowing they are about to become disciples. James and John do not begin the day expecting their lives to turn in a new direction. They are working. They are casting nets. They are mending nets. They are living the life they know. Then, seemingly out of the blue, Jesus walks by and says, “Follow me.” What may have felt sudden in the moment becomes the beginning of their identity. They will come to be known as disciples, apostles, witnesses, people whose lives are forever shaped by Jesus. One ordinary day becomes the day they discover the call that will define them. In this first movement of our series, we are asking one of the most basic and important questions Christians can ask: Who are we? In a culture that often tells us our worth depends on success, power, control, or fear, the gospel speaks a deeper truth. We are beloved. We are called. We are connected. We are sent. And today, we begin with this: we know who we are because we know who we follow. We follow Jesus. Mark tells the story with striking simplicity. Jesus passes along the Sea of Galilee and sees Simon and Andrew casting a net into the sea, because they are fishers. Jesus says to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.” Immediately, they leave their nets and follow him. Then Jesus goes a little farther and sees James and John, the sons of Zebedee, mending nets in their boat. He calls them too, and they leave their father in the boat with the hired men and follow him. That whole scene unfolds with surprising simplicity. Jesus walks along the water and sees ordinary people in the middle of their ordinary work. The call of Jesus meets them right there, in the texture of daily life, among boats, nets, family, labor, and responsibility. Before they have time to prepare themselves, before they know where the road will lead, Jesus invites them into a new life. He finds them in the routines they know and calls them toward a future they cannot yet imagine. That is good news, because many of us assume that if God is going to call us, we need to be somewhere else first. We need to become more faithful, more prepared, more certain, more spiritually mature. But Mark tells us Jesus calls people in the middle of life. Jesus calls them as they are, but he does not leave them as they are. “Follow me,” he says, “and I will make you fishers of people.” That phrase can sound strange to us, especially when it has been used in ways that feel manipulative or aggressive. But Jesus is calling them into a way of life that gathers people into the nearness of God. He is calling them to participate in healing, mercy, liberation, forgiveness, and beloved community. Jesus calls these first disciples to walk with him until his way becomes their way. That is discipleship. Discipleship is the lifelong practice of being shaped by the one we follow. That is why this sermon title matters: “We Know Who We Follow: Jesus.” The church is always tempted to forget. We are tempted to follow success, fear, nostalgia, outrage, or whatever gives us belonging without transformation. But Christians belong to Jesus Christ. And Jesus shows us who God is. As we follow Jesus through Mark, we see what God's life looks like in the world. We see Jesus announcing good news, healing bodies, restoring people to community, touching those others refuse to touch, feeding hungry people, welcoming children, challenging religious hypocrisy, confronting oppressive powers, and refusing to abandon the vulnerable. We see him going to the cross rather than returning violence for violence. We see him raised by God, with the promise that death and empire and abandonment do not get the final word. So when we say, “We follow Jesus,” we are saying our lives are being reoriented around the crucified and risen Christ. We are saying that the clearest picture we have of God's character is Jesus eating with sinners, touching the untouchable, forgiving enemies, blessing the poor, challenging the powerful, and giving himself in love. That is not ideology. That is a way of life. This is where our United Methodist tradition helps us. Methodism began as a renewal movement of people who wanted to follow Jesus with their whole lives. Early Methodists gathered in societies, classes, and bands. They prayed together. They confessed sin together. They studied scripture together. They gave money to the poor. They visited the sick and imprisoned. They held one another accountable in love. As the movement grew, John Wesley gave the people called Methodists what became known as the General Rules: first, do no harm; second, do good; third, attend upon all the ordinances of God. In more recent years, Bishop Rueben P. Job helped many United Methodists recover the power of these rules in his book Three Simple Rules: A Wesleyan Way of Living . Job summarized Wesley's General Rules in language that has become familiar across our tradition: do no harm, do good, and stay in love with God. These rules are a way of asking, every day, “What does it mean to follow Jesus here?” What does it mean to follow Jesus in this conversation, this conflict, this family, this workplace, this church, this neighborhood, this moment? There is a sitcom called The Good Place that, beneath all the jokes, bright colors, frozen yogurt shops, and absurd afterlife architecture, is really about moral formation. The show begins with Eleanor Shellstrop waking up after death and being told that she has made it into “the Good Place.” But Eleanor quickly realizes she does not belong there. In life, she had been selfish, rude, careless, and often cruel. So at first, her moral project is not really about becoming good. It is about passing as good. That is part of what makes the show so funny and so honest. Eleanor wants to learn enough ethics to blend in. She wants goodness as a disguise. And if we are honest, that is not always far from how people can treat religion too. We can learn the language, the gestures, and the right answers. We can learn how to pass as good. But Jesus does not call us to pass as faithful. Jesus calls us to follow. And this is where Chidi becomes so important. Chidi Anagonye is a moral philosophy professor. He knows the ethical theories. He can explain Kant, Aristotle, utilitarianism, virtue ethics, and moral duty. If anyone should know how to be good, it should be Chidi. But Chidi's problem is that knowing about goodness does not automatically make him free to live it. He is so afraid of making the wrong choice that he struggles to make any choice at all. His knowledge is real, but it has not yet become courage. His ethics are serious, but they have not yet become love in motion. That makes Eleanor and Chidi surprisingly helpful for the church. Eleanor reminds us that faith is not about passing as good. Chidi reminds us that faith is not only about knowing what is good. Knowledge matters, but knowledge alone is not discipleship. Discipleship is when what we know becomes a life. Discipleship is when truth becomes practice. Discipleship is when grace becomes courage, mercy, forgiveness, service, and love. Over time, Eleanor and Chidi both change because they are drawn into a deeper kind of formation. Eleanor has to practice honesty, compassion, and care for someone beyond herself. Chidi has to practice trust, courage, and choosing love even when he cannot calculate every possible consequence. In other words, both of them have to be discipled beyond appearance and beyond certainty into faithfulness. That is what makes The Good Place surprisingly Wesleyan. The characters become different not because they master one idea or earn enough points, but because they keep practicing a better way of being human. Christian faith is not self improvement with hymns. The gospel is grace. It is God meeting us before we are ready, loving us before we are worthy, and calling us before we fully understand where the road will lead. But grace does not leave us unchanged. Grace begins to form us. That is why the Methodist tradition has always cared about practices. We practice faith because practice keeps us open to the love that is already working on us. We practice doing no harm. We practice doing good. We practice staying in love with God. And over time, through the mercy of God, those practices begin to shape us into people who look a little more like the one we follow. The first rule is: do no harm. Harm is not only physical violence. Harm can come through words, neglect, silence, systems, assumptions, jokes, posts, grudges, and the people we refuse to see. To follow Jesus is to ask: Is my life causing harm? Are my words causing harm? Are my habits causing harm? Are my comforts causing harm? Most of us are not being asked to leave literal nets on the shore, but we may need to ask what nets we are holding. What old ways of being keep catching us? What habits make us feel safe but keep us from love? The second rule is: do good. Christian faith is about participating in God's healing of the world. “Follow me,” Jesus says, “and I will make you fishers of people.” In other words, your life is going to become part of God's work of gathering, healing, feeding, forgiving, restoring, and liberating. Sometimes doing good is serving someone who cannot repay you. Sometimes it is telling the truth when silence would be easier. Sometimes it is forgiving someone, apologizing, showing up, or acting with courage at work or at home. The third rule is: stay in love with God. Wesley's original language was “attend upon all the ordinances of God,” meaning the practices that keep us open to grace: public worship, prayer, searching the scriptures, receiving communion, fasting, Christian conversation, and works of mercy. In other words, stay close to the practices that remind you who you are and whose you are. Because we cannot follow Jesus for long on outrage, willpower, or guilt alone. We need grace. We need prayer. We need worship. We need scripture. We need communion. We need community. We need people who help us remember when we forget. And we do forget. The disciples forgot. Peter left his nets immediately, but later denied Jesus three times. James and John followed Jesus, but later argued about greatness. They followed, but they stumbled. They were called, but they were not instantly complete. And that should comfort us. Following Jesus does not mean we never fail. It means that when we fail, grace calls us again. This matters because the world is full of rival formations. Every day, something is trying to disciple us. Fear disciples us. Consumerism disciples us. Nationalism disciples us. Algorithms disciple us. Anger disciples us. Anxiety disciples us. The endless need to prove ourselves disciples us. The endless need to belong by having an enemy disciples us. So the question is not whether we are being formed. The question is: Who is forming us? So when we talk about discipleship, we are talking about formation. We are talking about what shapes our loves, habits, reflexes, speech, courage, compassion, and imagination. The world is constantly discipling us into anxiety, resentment, consumption, suspicion, and fear. But Jesus calls us into another formation. Jesus says, “Follow me,” and then teaches us the way of mercy, justice, courage, humility, forgiveness, and love. And when Jesus says, “Follow me,” he is giving us both a command and a promise. “Follow me, and I will make you…” The making belongs to Jesus. The transformation belongs to grace. Jesus calls us as we are, and then grace begins its work. Grace teaches us to do no harm. Grace strengthens us to do good. Grace draws us deeper into love with God. Grace makes us into people who can bear witness to another way of life. So this week, choose one small way to follow Jesus intentionally. Serve someone. Forgive someone. Act with courage in your work or home. Do no harm. Do good. Stay in love with God. Not because these practices save us by our own effort, but because they open our lives to the grace that is already calling us. Because somewhere, even now, Jesus is walking along the shoreline of our ordinary lives. He sees us. He knows us. He calls us. And his invitation is still the same: “Follow me.” May we have the grace to leave behind what binds us. May we have the courage to walk in his way. May we have the humility to be made new. And may our lives become a clear witness to the truth we proclaim: we know who we follow. We follow Jesus. Amen.

This week, we conclude our post-Easter sermon series, exploring what it means to live as Resurrection People. What might it mean for us to be formed, not by trust, but by trust in the One who restores, strengthens, and establishes us?

Date May 17, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we dismantle the cultural idol of selfish ambition to uncover the radical liberation found in Christ-like humility. We explore the "Christ Hymn" of Philippians, discovering that true divine power isn't found in climbing the ladder of empire, but in the courageous descent to serve others. By choosing the bottom, we find a unity that transcends our divisions and a love that washes the feet of both friend and betrayer alike. About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

Rev. Rodgers Chishiba, pastor at Colby UMC in western Kansas, joins Todd for a conversation about Miracle Sunday, an effort from the Council of Bishops to raise funds for an endowment for theological education outside the United States. Rodgers explains why it's an important effort and how participation is a reflection of our worldwide connection as United Methodists. Donate today by using this form.

This week, we continue our post-Easter sermon series, exploring what it means to live as Resurrection People. In a world that tries to form us in empire's image, how might we be refuse to ruled by fear and instead, speak boldly, truthfully, and remain grounded in hope? 

Date May 10, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we explore the defiant nature of joy as an unbidden guest that arrives precisely when we expect it least. Drawing on the series Surprise Party: 50 Days of Enchantment, we examine how the Apostle Paul—writing from the claustrophobia of a prison cell—aligns himself with a "do-it-again" God whose very nature is delight. We are invited to stop resisting these fleeting moments of grace and instead receive them as a holy resistance against a disenchanted world. Ultimately, we discover that when joy finds us amidst our grief, it is not a betrayal of our pain but a profound encounter with the nearness of God. References Scripture: Philippians 1:1–18 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

Matt and Zach sat down with Charles to discuss his upcoming mission work in Geneva, Switzerland. Charles shared his journey from a late-blooming pastor to becoming a United Methodist missionary. Along with many other topics connected to the Theology of Missions. You can find more info or support Charles athttps://gbhem-umc.my.site.com/hemgm/s/campaign/a3fPo000000RnB7IAK/mckinzie-charles-iiConnect with the Bearded Theologians at https://www.linktr.ee/BeardedtheologiansYou can find the Beardcast on Youtube, Stitcher, Apple, Spotify, Castbox, or wherever else you listen to Podcast.

Pastor Yvi continues our series on United Methodist tradition and beliefs in week 2 of "UMC: What Makes Us Matter."

Date May 3, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we confront the "surprise" no one wants: the devastating gap between the miracle we prayed for and the reality of grief. Amidst the heartbreak of losing a beloved child, we set aside the party to sit in the honest, defiant landscape of Psalm 23. We discover a God who doesn't offer trite explanations but a relentless, pursuing presence—a love that chases us even into the darkest valleys. When words fail, we find our way forward by simply showing up and mirroring the stubborn, enduring mercy that refuses to let us go. References Scripture: Psalm 23 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

This week, we continue our post-Easter sermon series, exploring what it means to live as Resurrection People. In a world that builds us with fear, power, and control, how might we be built together with belonging and love? 

Date April 26, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we explore the radical, countercultural surprise of staying put. In a world that profits from our restlessness, we investigate how the "vow of stability" offers a defiant path toward reenchantment. By looking at the grounded presence of Paul and Silas in a midnight prison cell, we discover that the grace we seek isn't found in our escape, but in our commitment to remain present to the beautiful, heavy reality right where we are. References Scripture: Acts 16:16–34 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

This week, Scott was joined by Rev. Mel Caraway, a retired United Methodist pastor and long-time Texas Impact Board Member. Mel is a leader in the faith-based climate advocacy space at the denominational level and international level as a long-time COP attendee.  Rev. Caraway joined the conversation to talk about his faith journey and how climate advocacy became his area of focus.  He also talked about the work listeners could take to engage their community and congregation in effective climate work—a perfect conversation for this Earth Day.  We hope you enjoy this episode and invite a friend to listen along. If you share it in your social media, make sure to tag us! To learn more or get involved, check out Texas Impact's Action Center at texasimpact.org.  Get full access to Texas Impact at texasimpact.substack.com/subscribe

This week, we continue our post-Easter sermon series, exploring what it means to live as Resurrection People. In a world that tries to shape us by fear, how might we be re-formed by love? 

Date April 19, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we explore the scandalous reach of Easter hope through the lens of Saul's blinding encounter on the road to Damascus. We confront a God who subverts our hierarchies of belonging, trading our rigid "safety patrol" certainties for a grace that reaches the very people we have labeled as "out." By examining the quiet bravery of Ananias, we are challenged to move beyond condemnation and embrace the radical humility required to call an enemy "brother." This is a call to inhabit the "Surprise Party" of the Gospel, where the scales of judgment fall away to reveal a kinship we never thought possible. About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

On this episode of “On the Aisle,” host Tom Alvarez sits down with community leader and musician Shelly Snider, who shares her journey from growing up as a United Methodist preacher's kid in Indianapolis to becoming a powerhouse in Indiana's LGBTQ+ community through Indy Pride, the Pride of Indy Bands, and now the Damien Center. She talks about juggling corporate life, nonprofit work, and family, the joy and healing power of music, and how a scrappy idea on a pizza-napkin became a 60+ member queer band that has marched in presidential inaugurations and is headed to the Tournament of Roses Parade. Shelly opens up about surviving professional setbacks, honoring queer history and the AIDS crisis, raising her son with her wife, and why she believes risk-taking, collaboration, and radical hope are essential for the next generation. If you care about arts, activism, or what it really means to build community in the Midwest, this conversation is packed with heart, history, and inspiration.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week, we launch our post-Easter sermon series, exploring what it means to live as Resurrection People. In a world that tries to shape us by fear, how might we be challenged to embody living hope? 

What if recovery isn't a niche ministry—but a universal reality?In this episode, Heather sits down with pastor and recovery leader Jorge Acevedo to explore how the church can better understand addiction, healing, and the power of recovery communities. Drawing from decades of experience, Jorge challenges assumptions, shares personal stories, and invites leaders to recognize where God is already at work—often outside traditional church walls.Jorge Acevedo has been transformed by grace and now lives for one mission: connecting people to Jesus and the Church. Raised partly in Puerto Rico and moved early to the U.S., he rose from addiction in his youth to lead and mentor across generations. For 27 years, he served as Lead Pastor of Grace Church, a multi-site United Methodist congregation in Southwest Florida, and in September 2023 he retired from 39 years of pastoral ministry. Now he coaches, writes, and speaks through Spiritual Leadership Inc. This season, we're diving into the streams of Fresh Expressions — from senior adults and recovery ministry, to arts, outdoors, recreation, and more. Each month, you'll hear directly from practitioners who are navigating these fresh ways of being church in the world. Their stories will spark your imagination and encourage you to see where God is already at work in your community and how you might join in! So whether you're a pastor, lay leader, or simply curious about how church can thrive beyond the walls, join us for Season seven of the Fresh Expressions Podcast.

Date April 12, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we crash the best party you never knew was happening. Jesus doesn't wait for you to unlock the door — he walks through it, wounds showing, saying peace before you're ready to hear it. This is the God who descends rather than demands, who meets us in the locked rooms of our fear, hopelessness, shame, and apathy, and whose first word is always grace. We are not just invited to the party. We are sent to throw it. References Scripture: John 20:19–31 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

Happy Easter! This week, Pastor Joe reminds us that Easter is a call to resistance against empire. He challenges us to remember that resurrection is not only something we celebrate, but a way of becoming the people God calls us to be!

Date April 5, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we slow down long enough to see what cynicism keeps us from seeing — that resurrection isn't a one-time event that happened long ago, but the very shape of reality itself, breaking through in ordinary moments all around us. We sit with Mary Magdalene in her grief, name the ways disappointment calcifies into resignation, and discover that what finally breaks through isn't argument or evidence — it's Love calling us by name. The world is more alive than we've been giving it credit for. Do you see it? References Scripture: John 20:1-18 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

This is a special edition of the Louisiana Now podcast, a reading of the Easter Story by host Todd Rossnagel. This reading comes from all four gospels and various translations. To find a United Methodist church in the Louisiana Conference, please visit our directory: https://www.la-umc.org/churches To find a listing of online church services in the Louisiana Conference, please visit here.  To find a United Methodist church near you, please visit: https://www.umc.org/en/find-a-church

This week, Pastor Joe continues to focus on resistance as a theme for Lent as we journey with Jesus into Jerusalem on what is known as Palm Sunday. He challenges us to take a side: to either align with power and empire or to follow Christ into a new way of love, justice, and communal courage. 

Date March 29, 2026 Synopsis In this Palm Sunday sermon, we repent of triumphalism—our desperate need for a God who wins—and discover what's revealed when those false images finally fall. We've all handed our hope to something that couldn't hold it, and called it faith. But the one who rides into Jerusalem on a donkey isn't heading for a throne. He's heading through death. And it turns out, that's exactly where the God who was always there has been waiting. References Scripture: Matthew 2:1–11 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

Since this Sunday is different from any other Sunday, we are doing something that is both different and familiar (for those who have followed the Lectionary Lab for a while, anyhow). The podcast features the Rev. Dr. Delmer Chilton, co-founder of the Lectionary Lab and long-time preacher in United Methodist, Evangelical Lutheran, and Episcopal traditions. Not so much textual work this week; more practical application and “what are you going to do?” from the pulpit on this Easter Sunday. God bless you all as you preach on this biggest of all big days!Let us know what you think! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit lectionarypro.substack.com/subscribe

Date March 22, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, guest preacher Alyson Tiwari invites us into the most honest question grief ever asks: Where were you? Using the story of Lazarus—and her own profound loss—she explores what it looks like to bring our full, unguarded selves to Jesus, anger and all. Reenchantment, she reminds us, isn't relentless optimism; it's the kind of presence that can hold grief and hope in the same breath, and discover God already standing in the middle of it, weeping. This week's invitation: release the cynicism that numbs, and dare to say, Show me something good. References Scripture: John 11:1–45 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

Date March 15, 2026 Synopsis In this sermon, we ask what we might be missing when we get stuck pining for the past. Nostalgia is seductive—it feels like home—but it can blind us to what God is doing right now. We explore how the man born blind models a different way: not reaching backward, but saying hello to here. Part of our series Reenchanted: A Series for Lent on Believing Again. The past isn't a destination. It's evidence. References Scripture: John 9:1–41 About The Local Church For more information about The Local Church, visit our website. Feedback? Questions? Comments? We'd love to hear it. Email Brent at brent@thelocalchurchpbo.org. To invest in what God's doing through The Local Church and help support these podcasting efforts and this movement of God's love, give online here.

Dr. Robert Ganung, chaplain and teacher at Taft School, joins Rick to explore how deep contemplative practice can ground a life of service, justice, and education. Drawing from Celtic Christianity, Buddhism, Vedanta, and the civil rights tradition, Robert shares how daily meditation, interspiritual study, and a sense of the sacred in all beings inform his work with students and his view of a world in crisis yet ripe for awakening. They discuss non-duality and interconnection, inner practice as fuel for action, the impact of mystical experiences, near-death research, and living with love and courage amid social and planetary upheaval. The Rev. Dr. Robert Ganung is an ordained minister, educator, and school chaplain whose life and work have been shaped by a deep engagement with both Eastern and Western spiritual traditions. He holds a doctorate from the Boston University School of Theology, where his dissertation explored how the mindfulness and meditation practices taught by the Vietnamese Zen monk Thich Nhat Hanh can enrich and nourish the spiritual lives of Christians. That work grew out of years of personal practice and study, including retreats with Thich Nhat Hanh in the 1980s and 1990s, as well as a lifelong interest in contemplative spirituality. For more than four decades, Dr. Ganung has served at the intersection of education, ministry, and social justice. He is currently Chaplain at The Taft School in Connecticut, where he also teaches philosophy, ethics, world religions, and global studies, and where he has brought an extraordinary range of voices into the community—among them Cornel West, Bill McKibben, Ibram X. Kendi, Angela Davis, Tibetan monks, and many others addressing spirituality, human rights, environmental justice, and the moral challenges of our time. Earlier in his career, he served as chaplain and teacher at Milton Academy, Punahou School in Hawai‘i, and Cardigan Mountain School. During these years, he also served as a minister in the United Methodist and United Church of Christ congregations in New England and Hawai‘i. Dr. Ganung's spiritual formation has been deeply influenced by the Christian mystical tradition—figures such as Howard Thurman, Bede Griffiths, Richard Rohr, & John O'Donohue—as well as by Advaita Vedanta, Buddhism, and interfaith dialogue. Introduced to Hindu philosophy and Sufism as an undergraduate philosophy major at Boston University, he later engaged Siddha Yoga and Advaita teachings, while continuing to explore how contemplative practice leads naturally toward nonviolence, compassion, and justice in the world. Discussion of this interview in the BatGap Community Facebook Group, Interview recorded February 7, 2026