Chaos Brings Change

Rev. Debbie Cato
Acts 2:1-21
Fairfield Community Church
May 28, 2023

Open our hearts and minds by the power of your Holy Spirit, God, that we might hear and receive the message you intend for us today. But don’t let it stop there.  Prompt us to do something with what we hear. Amen

 

Chaos Brings Change

 

I can’t remember if I told you this last year or not so I’m telling it again because I loved it.  In a church I attended in Tacoma, every Pentecost Sunday they would have people stand at different times during the scripture reading and start reading it in their native language.  French, Spanish, various African dialects, Chinese, Vietnamese.  They would stand up wherever they were seated in the sanctuary and start speaking.  Reading the Acts passage in their own language.  Blending their voices in their language with the other people speaking in their language. All these voices in all these different languages.  Voices coming from different parts of the sanctuary.  It became very chaotic.  Very loud.  It was beautiful.  It always gave me goosebumps. 

It was reminiscent of that Pentecost day in Jerusalem over 2,000 years ago when they were all standing in one place.  When devout Jews from every nation were present celebrating the Feast of Weeks; the festival of first fruits. When suddenly the Holy Spirit appeared like a violent wind and tongues of fire came down.  Then they began speaking in languages that they had never been able to speak before yet those from other nations were able to understand.

Imagine what that must have been like!  Suddenly speaking a language you didn’t know! Clearly you had power from the Spirit sent by God. 

It always gives me chills.  A sense of what it may have been like on that first Pentecost.  It’s good for us to get chills.  To realize the sheer magnitude of God giving each one of us His Holy Spirit.  It’s not that dramatic as that first Pentecost but it does not diminish the power of the Spirit.  Do we even realize or appreciate the power God’s very Spirit gives us?  We are filled with God’s Spirit.  That same Spirit that filled the people 2,000 years ago. Let’s sit with that a moment.

Like those first disciples on the day of Pentecost, God is constantly calling us to new and uncharted territory. Fifty days after Passover, fifty days after Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion, Jews from every nation gathered in Jerusalem for the Feast of Weeks, commemorating the harvest and “the first fruits of your labor”. This festival scene in Acts 2 is transformed by the dramatic arrival of the Holy Spirit, with the sound of a violent, rushing wind and tongues of fire lapping the air. Jesus told them this would happen saying, “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth”. But who could really be prepared for such a miracle? Such a transformation?

The miracle of Pentecost includes the Holy Spirit giving people from “every nation under heaven” the ability to speak new languages, to hear and understand each other. Because of this gift of God’s Holy Spirit, unity amidst diversity was discovered.  Although people were from different nations and different cultures, suddenly they could community and unity was found amongst one another.  This was a transformation so profound, some cast it as unbelievable, dismissing those blessed as a bunch of crazy drunks. But they were not drunk.  The Holy Spirit filled them with gifts and abilities and joy they had not experienced before.  Gifts and abilities and joy that they could not contain.

A prime example was Peter.  Peter who tended to put his foot in his mouth.  Who denied knowing Jesus three times. This very Peter stood up and boldly recited the words of Joel, emphasizing how the Spirit gives ordinary people extraordinary abilities.  Abilities to prophesy; to have visions, and discern dreams.

Too often, fear and self-doubt hold us back from all God’s Spirit can accomplish through us.  We don’t allow the Spirit to use her power.  I think we are often afraid of the Spirit.  Afraid of  how the Spirit might change and transform us if we allow it.

I wonder what would change if we trusted the Spirit’s power to transform? Disillusionment is easy — we mourn the church’s decline.  We grow frustrated over our failure to create positive change.  We lose hope in the face of overwhelming problems.

But what would you try if you truly believed the Spirit fills you and gives you the ability you need for the work to which God calls? Would you speak against the harassment you witnessed?  The injustice you see but have been too afraid to say anything about? Would you write an op-ed for your local newspaper on behalf of the poor or marginalized? Would you run for office? Volunteer for our outreach projects? Invite people to church?

What would we do as the church if we trusted the Spirit to fill us, use us, and give us abilities that rise to the call of God’s work? Would we knock on the doors of our neighbors, listen to their needs, then do something to meet those needs? Would we worry less about our financial safety net, and risk investing our money in new things to solve big problems we feel God is leading us to solve?

We think too small when we measure God’s call by our human capacity. We can do more and be more than we imagine through the transformative power of the Holy Spirit.

This Pentecost passage is all-inclusive. The Spirit is poured out on “all flesh” and “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” God’s Spirit can transform ordinary people, like you and me and those who quietly in their pew and then head back home right after service into extraordinary servants of Christ.  God’s Spirit can and will transform.

Like the song says, “Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on us. Melt us. Mold us. Fill us. Use us.” With the ability given to us by the Holy Spirit, let’s dream big dreams — and step into action, trusting God for the all that we need.  Amen.

 

 

Act Like A Child

Rev. Debbie Cato
Matthew 19:13-15; Mark 10:13-16;  Luke 18:15-17 
Fairfield Community Church
May 21, 2023 

Lord, Open our eyes; open our hearts. May we hear your Word read and proclaimed so that our lives and our witness will be strengthened. Amen.

 

Act Like Children

 

Jesus spent most of his time surrounded by large crowds.  Whether he was teaching or healing or performing miracles, the crowds followed him because they were drawn to this man who welcomed the marginalized.  Those that were left out and forgotten.  He welcomed the poor, the oppressed, those considered “sinners.” He welcomed women and children.  And always his disciples, those he personally invited to follow him, were with him, observing and learning.

Jesus was considered a rule-breaker.  He healed on the Sabbath, he touched the untouchable,  he forgave the unforgiveable, he ate with the unsociable, he welcomed women into his inner circle, and he spoke about things that the religious people found to be blasphemous.  So of course Jesus loved children.  The insignificant because they had no voice.  Too young to matter.  They should be seen but not heard.    

Though scripture doesn’t say this, I believe that Jesus played with children.  Surely there were children in the crowds that gathered all the time.  I imagine Jesus as being playful.  Laughing and enjoying himself.  In my office, I have pencil drawings of Jesus with children – playing, holding a baby up in the air and laughing, pictures of children surrounding Jesus and Jesus laughing with them, dancing with them. One of the pictures is on the front of your bulletin today.  You see, this is how I imagine Jesus. 

Loving and gentle, welcoming children and spending time with them.  Taking time to experience the joy of their laughter and play. The unabandoned sense of childhood without worries and responsibilities weighing them down.

Each of our scripture passages today tells us that Jesus said, “Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.” Jesus is talking abo0ut children who laugh and play and explore.  Children who are curious and ask a thousand questions; who wonder why and how and want to learn; who love without distinction; who trust and believe what they are told.

You see, something happens as we grow up.  I don’t know at what age or what happens in our life to cause it, but we begin to think too much, to analyze, to question.  We become skeptical. We stop being creative and curious and playful. We become too serious and forget to laugh. Our responsibilities and worries take over and we become overwhelmed with the minutia of daily life.  We forget that Jesus said, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”  We forget this because of our independence,  Our “I can do this myself” attitude takes over and we think we certainly don’t need God.  But it is in Christ that we find our true rest and relief. 

Young children don’t get burned out.  They don’t experience the weariness that we do as we get older. Granted, they do not have the responsibilities we do.  They do not have the worries we do.  But I also wonder if it’s because they have a playful spirit.  They laugh more.  They are allowed to be creative.  To be curious.  To pretend.  To be themselves. To take time to examine the bug on the sidewalk or watch the bird making its’ nest or splash in the puddle after a rainstorm.  We forget to be playful.  We forget to take time to be curious.  To examine the rocks.  To delight in the dandelions.  To just laugh from our bellies and feel the joy of being alive.

I think Jesus is saying that we cannot overthink this religion thing.  We can’t wonder how it’s all possible; how the things we believe in could happen; why God would do things the way he has.  Like children, we just need to trust and believe.  Hebrews 11 tells us that “…faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”  God coming to earth as a vulnerable baby.  The miracles Jesus performed.  The resurrection.  Jesus’ ascension into heaven.  These and other things defy logic and reasoning.  But faith tells us we just need to believe. We need to trust in God’s promises. That’s what faith is.  “Confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”  “Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.”

Let’s all be a  little more like the children who stood before us this morning.  They are precious in God’s sight just as we are.  We are all His beloved.  He asks that we have faith like a child.  Let’s allow the children to be our examples.  Let us pray:

Loving God,  Help us to be like children, trusting you and the promises that you have made.  Help us to let children be our examples in how to have faith.  Amen.

In-Between Times

Rev. Debbie Cato
Acts 1:1-11
Fairfield Community Church
May 14, 2023

O God, in you we live and move and have our being! May we hear your word today and live out the profound truth of your desire for us.  Help us be mindful of the beauty, the hope, and the calling of living in you. Amen.

  

In-Between Times

 

This is the sixth Sunday of Easter.  We’ve spent time thinking about the resurrection and how Jesus encountered his followers after rising from the dead. He walked through locked doors and gave them His peace.  In passages we didn’t read, Jesus met them at the edge of the Sea of Galilee.  He fried fish for their breakfast.  He met them walking along the road and explained the Scriptures to them.  Last week we talked about Jesus’ promise of a Holy Companion – the Holy Spirit. Today’s passage is Jesus’ ascension.  Jesus time on earth is over.  And now the disciples are to wait in Jerusalem for the promised Holy Spirit.  These followers of Jesus begin a period of transition; a period of waiting.  An “in-between time.” A time between doing ministry with Jesus’ physical presence and doing ministry without Jesus’ physical presence.

As a pastor, I’ve had a lot of in-between times.  I graduated from seminary and was approved to seek a call at about the same time.  So when I graduated, I was ready to serve a church, I was anxious to serve a church.  I had studied hard and long to prepare myself.  But we all know how long the search process takes!  It’s ridiculous.  So I had to wait.  I was in-between seminary and serving a church; being a pastor.  I was anxious but tried to be prayerful and trust God.  I tried to rest in this in-between time.  There was this let-down of surviving seminary and graduating and then this, “now what?” What was next?  Where would God call me?

Have you experienced an in-between time?  Maybe a time between a major event in your life and the next thing? Whether it’s surviving the Christmas season or getting your last child into school or graduating from high school and  trying to figure out what was next for you.  Maybe it was settling your child in college and their first dorm room and then leaving them behind.  Maybe it was helping your parents sell your childhood home.   Whatever it might be, there’s a collective sense of relief after a major event or busy season. But almost inevitably, your desire to move forward into something new comes back: What now, you wonder?   What’s next?

I think that might be what the disciples feel after watching Jesus disappear into the clouds. They’ve witnessed their Lord conquer death.They suffered a lot of trauma. Their eyes were opened to the Scriptures. Jesus has promised the Holy Spirit, called them to spread the news of God’s love to the world, and ascended to heaven. And now they wait. They wait because they don’t have the Holy Spirit yet, but Jesus said it’s coming soon.[1]  They are in an in-between time.  A time of waiting for what’s next.

I’m not good at waiting.  Especially when I don’t know what is coming next.  Waiting requires patience.  I am not good at patience.  I used to pray for patience and then I realized God gave me too many opportunities to learn patience, so I stopped praying for it.  I will admit that I want to be in control of my own destiny; my own life. Yet, really, such control is a fallacy. We can make decisions with consequences, but we cannot control everything the future holds. As a result, waiting reminds us of our vulnerability. It is uncomfortable. For Christians, it requires that we trust God to give us our “daily bread” – to meet our needs and connect us with the right people at the right time.[2]  It requires faith.  We have to put our faith into practice. We don’t always like doing that.

I wonder if the disciples felt any discomfort after the ascension. They must have thought about the most recent time when they were asked to trust God — and failed. Peter denied Christ in the courtyard. The male disciples didn’t believe the female disciples when they reported Jesus’ resurrection. Thomas didn’t even believe Jesus when he appeared in the room, he wanted proof. After they watched Jesus ascend into heaven and heard from the angels, as the days passed by with no showing of the Spirit, did they doubt? Did they remember?[3]  Jesus said the Spirit would come soon but God’s soon is very different than our soon!

If we read the rest of chapter 1 of Acts, we learn that the 11 disciples return to Jerusalem as Jesus instructed.  Scripture tells us that the women were there in the room as well and they all devoted themselves to prayer.  During this “in-between time” while they wait for the Holy Spirit that Jesus promised, they also do a  little business.  They need to replace Judas.  Jesus had chosen twelve of them and now there were only eleven.  Two men who had accompanied them from the beginning are nominated – Barsabbas and Matthias and they cast lots  The lot fell on Matthias and so he is added to the eleven disciples. Matthias completes the list of twelve disciples. The time of waiting, although hard, is filled with good things.  Prayer and filling an important vacancy.

Maybe that’s what those in-between times are supposed to be for.  Praying and taking care of important business.

When I look back to that in-between time between seminary and receiving my first call that’s exactly what it was.  It was a time of prayer and taking care of business.  I spent a lot of time praying about a call.  Praying for the church that might call me, the search committee that might be looking at my PIF – my Personal Information Form or glorified resume. I prayed for myself and my ability to be a pastor.  I prayed for the community that I might become a part of.  I also did a lot of reading.  I went back to the suggested reading lists in some of my seminary classes.  The books that were recommended but not required that you don’t have time to read during a class.  I got the books and did more reading on what it means to be a pastor and I continued to learn and discern.  I spent time with Jessica and Tracy.

Although the in-between time was hard for me – I struggled with the waiting and I was impatient waiting for a call, looking back I realize the benefit of not rushing into serving a church.  Whether I was aware of it or not, God used that in-between time to prepare my heart and mind for the plans He had for me, and I think to also prepare the church for me.

The liturgical calendar invites us to engage waiting alongside the disciples this time of year. Easter has come and gone. Pentecost is coming, but it is not yet here. And so, we wait. It may feel pointless at times. We are tempted to say, “Let’s skip to the good part” And don’t we all want that? We’ve celebrated Easter — let’s jump ahead to the gifts of the Holy Spirit that unite us to God and each other at Pentecost. Bring on the tongues of fire![4] 

But we’re invited by Scripture and church tradition to wait. Why? What is there to learn by practicing waiting with hope and expectation? What is there to learn by engaging what is directly in front of us?

Unlike the disciples in the days after Jesus’ ascension, we have the Holy Spirit. And in our seasons of waiting, we can engage the Spirit.  So though we wait for the celebration of Pentecost and a reminder of when the disciples received the gift of the Holy Spirit and the birth of the church began, we are not waiting for the gift of the Holy Spirit.  We have received it.  So we need to ask what this time of waiting is about for us.  If, like the disciples, it is about prayer and doing important business, what should we expect?  What should we be praying about?

Perhaps you could pray about what are you called to do today? Perhaps you could be sensitive to how God is moving in your life in this moment? Maybe that is sharing the gospel with someone by sharing your story.  Maybe it is inviting someone to church with you. Maybe it is community organizing or planting a garden in the community garden that’s being planned here in Fairfield.  Maybe it is simply being a good neighbor.

As we wait, we must trust not only that God will send the next task our way, but that God is using this time to prepare us for the next season in our lives.  God always has a plan for us.  God is always faithful.  God is always good.  Amen.     

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[1] Rose Schrott Taylor @https://pres-outlook.org/2023/04/waiting-on-a-promise-april-30-2023/
[2]Rose Schrott Taylor @https://pres-outlook.org/2023/04/waiting-on-a-promise-april-30-2023/
[3] Rose Schrott Taylor @https://pres-outlook.org/2023/04/waiting-on-a-promise-april-30-2023/
[4] Rose Schrott Taylor @https://pres-outlook.org/2023/04/waiting-on-a-promise-april-30-2023/

 

A Holy Companion

Rev. Debbie Cato
John 14:15-21
Fairfield Community Church
May 7, 2023

Savior God, your Word is a lamp to our feet on this discipleship road. Walk with us. Guide us with your wisdom and grace. Open us to recognizing your will and your way. Amen.

 

A Holy Companion

 

I love watching the Olympics.  Do any of you? I love to watch the athletes who have trained and sacrificed their whole life to compete at the Olympics.  Everything they have lived for, every ounce of their thoughts and efforts has come down to this one race, this one event, this one opportunity to be the best.  I’m always moved by the courage and fortitude the athletes have – fighting through pain and injury, participating on a world stage, putting it all on the line. 

Back in the late 80’s,  there was this 19-year-old British runner named Derek Redmond who had skyrocketed to fame by shattering Britain’s 400-meter record. But then an Achilles tendon injury forced him to withdraw from the 1988 Olympic Games and he endured five separate surgeries.  Five surgeries.  Just think.

When the Summer Olympics arrived in Barcelona in 1992, Derek Redmond was absolutely aching for a medal.  By now Derek was 23 years old and he was ready to win.  It was at these Summer Olympics in Barcelona Spain that hold the most memorable Olympic moment for me.

The day of the 400-meter race, 65,000 fans streamed into the stadium in Barcelona to watch.  All the media attention was focused on Derek – focused on his come-back story; focused on this athlete who was expected to win the 400-meter race.  The sportscaster pointed out Derek’s father in the stands cheering for his son and throughout the race the TV cameras panned back and forth between the race and Derek’s dad.  Sitting in my living room, I could feel the excitement mount as the racers lined up for the start.

The race began, and Derek immediately broke through the pack to seize the lead. “Keep it up, keep it up,” his father yelled. Heading down the backstretch, only 175 meters from the finish line, it looked like Derek was a shoo-in to win.

But then Derek hears a pop. It’s his right hamstring. He pulls up lame, looking as if he has been shot.  The camera shows his leg quivering, and his face is wrenched in pain. Derek begins to hop on the other leg, and then he slows down and falls to the track.  Medical personnel run toward him as he sprawls on the ground, holding his right hamstring. 

The TV cameras scan to the stands.  Derek’s dad, seeing his son in trouble, is racing down the bleachers. He is pushing toward the track, sidestepping people and bumping into others. You can see that all he can think about is getting to his son. He is absolutely single-minded about this, and he isn’t going to be stopped by anyone.

Back on the track, Derek must have realized that his dream of an Olympic medal was gone. The other runners streak across the finish line. Derek is like an orphan, a lonely figure on the track, all alone.

Tears pour down Derek’s face.  I imagine they were tears of pain and tears of heartache.  When the medical crew arrives with a stretcher, Derek tells them, “No, there’s no way I’m getting on that stretcher. I’m going to finish my race.” You see, “Did-Not-Finish” was not part of his vocabulary. And so he lifts himself to his feet, ever so slowly and carefully, and he starts hobbling down the track.

Suddenly, the crowd realizes that Derek isn’t dropping out of the race. He isn’t limping off the track in defeat, but is actually continuing on one leg, in a fiercely determined effort to make it to the finish line. One painful step at a time, each one a little slower and more agonizing than the one before, Derek limps forward, and the crowd begins to cheer for him. The fans rise to their feet and their cries grow louder and louder, building into a thundering roar.

Finally Derek’s dad reaches the bottom of the stands, vaults over the railing, dodges a security guard, and runs out to his son — with two security people running after him. “That’s my son out there,” he yells back at his pursuers, “and I’m going to help him.”

He reaches his son at the final curve of the race, about 120 meters from the finish line, and he wraps his arm around his waist. “I’m here, son,” he gently says while hugging his boy. “We’ll finish together.”

Derek puts his arms around his father’s shoulders and sobs. Together, arm in arm, father and son struggle toward the finish line with 65,000 people cheering, clapping and crying.  Just a few steps from the end, with the crowd in an absolute frenzy, Derek’s dad releases the grip he has on his son so that Derek can cross the finish line by himself.  It was very moving.

Do you ever feel like you won’t make it over the finish line?  Like you are hobbling on one leg, and the pain and disappointment is too much to bear?  Do you ever feel like you are all alone – yearning for someone to put their arm around you and bear some of your pain? 

In today’s scripture, I see similarities to Derek, the race, and his dad.  We see the disciples who’ve been riding on the back of Jesus for three years. They were together 24/7.  Jesus was their teacher, their mentor, their friend, their companion.  And Jesus is telling them it is coming to an end. He’s talking about his own death in terms that the disciples don’t clearly understand.  Something is in the wind.  The disciples begin to feel the tension, to feel the pain. But Jesus tells them that he “will not leave [them] orphaned. “I am coming to you,” he says, and his coming is in the form of the Holy Spirit.

You won’t have to do it alone; Jesus tells his friends.  You will have an advocate, a helper, a holy companion.  John understands the Holy Spirit as one who stands in for us.  He says that the Holy Spirit will strengthen us, keep us on track.  We can depend on the Holy Spirit, lean on the Holy Spirit and be in fellowship with the Holy Spirit.

John says that the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Life.  “Because I live,” promises Jesus, “you also will live”. The good news is that Christ has conquered the power of sin and death, and the same God who raised Jesus from the dead will give life to our bodies through his Spirit that dwells in us.

No matter what tragedies come our way, whether they are medical or financial or vocational or emotional, we can hold tight to the promise that Jesus gives us the gift of life – through the Holy Spirit. 

One of the confessions of our faith – the Heidelberg Catechism, written in 1562, begins with this question:  “What is your only comfort in life and in death?”  The answer is as true today as it was almost 500 years ago: “That I belong — body and soul, in life and in death — not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.”  We belong to Jesus Christ, and his Spirit gives us life. This is good news for any of us who find ourselves limping toward the finish line.

John also says that the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of love.  The love between God and Jesus spills over into our lives through the Holy Spirit and saturates us with unconditional love and acceptance.  There are expectations, of course.  Jesus does talk about obedience. “If you love me, you will keep my commandments”. The commandments of Jesus all involve living a life of love.  That same evening, Jesus tells his disciples, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another”.

When we are feeling defeated, we are to love one another. When the medical test is disturbing, love one another. When a family member faces a layoff, love one another.  When we are rejected and hurt, love one another. When there’s a death in the community, love one another. When life sucks, love one another.  “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples,” says Jesus, “if you have love for one another”. The Holy Spirit leads us into a life of love, comforting and She carries us through anything that life throws at us.

John’s words for Holy Spirit - advocate, helper, comforter; are not just names for the Spirit, but they are particular ways of describing the functions of the Spirit.  What the Spirit does is not new but is a continuation of the work of Jesus.  The Spirit shares in the work of Christ.  The Spirit is Christ’s presence within us and within the world.  Jesus repeatedly emphasizes his presence in and relationship with the faith community:  “the Spirit will be with you forever”; “the Spirit abides with you”; and “the Spirit will be in you”, he says.

The disciples never could have done all they did without Jesus. In their faith run, they’ve never been alone. Jesus has always been there. The very physicality of Jesus has been their source of reassurance; their source of strength. The miracles; the teaching; his leadership - It’s been enough to keep them going in the good and the bad; the easy and the hard.

Now Jesus is talking about dropping out. The unthinkable is happening. How are they to keep going? Some are no doubt already contacting their fishing buddies to see if there’s an opening at the cannery in Galilee. But Jesus says that even after his death he will still be with them. He will still encourage them, plead with them, pray for them, and teach them.

Just the nature of his presence will change. “In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me,” he says. He will be present to them in the form of the Holy Spirit.  They will not run the race alone; they will not have to cross the finish line alone.

We do not have to run this race alone either.  We do not have to cross the finish line alone.  God is with us – in the good and the bad; in the easy and the hard.   It’s easy to believe that God is present in our lives, that God is trustworthy, that God is Someone we can count on when things are going well.  When we are healthy, when we can pay our bills, when we are at the top of the mountain.  But then, things happen that seem to suggest that God is not with us. That Jesus has indeed left us “orphaned”. And when that happens, we’re tempted to take a Did Not Finish. 

It’s when we are in pain and exhausted, with our spirits dashed, drained of hope that we are reminded that Jesus did not leave his disciples – or us - without providing guidance for living in a world of hostility and fear. What he taught us is not only reinforced by Scripture, but by the Spirit - our Holy Companion that never leaves us.

 This race called life – specifically the Christian life is not for the lighthearted.  It’s a long-distance race – a distance that finds us exhilarated, excited, exhausted, hurt, broken, discouraged.  It takes work.  It takes courage and perseverance and hope. 

We are not alone.  Just like Derek’s father, God is walking beside us.  He has his arm around our waist and he’s bearing some of our weight.  He’s cheering us on, encouraging us to keep going.  He loves us.  He believes in us.  And he’s with us always.  Always and in all things he is present.  In every time and every place and every situation, Jesus says, “That’s my child out there, and I’m going to help them.”   “I’m here, beloved,” he gently says. “We’ll finish together.”  We’ll finish together.  Amen.