March 25 Message from Rev. Dr. Joann Whitt

Today we hear the ending of the story of Ruth, and while it is a happy ending, of sorts, Ruth is still “acquired” in a transaction by Boaz at the city gates. As honorably as Boaz behaves in this story, he still buys her as property. At the end of the story, Boaz is still Boaz and Ruth is still a Moabite woman—being ac

Who is the hero in a story of two women on the margin, looking to survive, praying for a break? What does the story of Ruth and Naomi teach us about the way we care for each other, about the way we structure our society? Where is grace to be gleaned in a story of famine?

We begin a four-week series on the book of Ruth. In this first chapter we hear about how famine causes Naomi and her family to migrate to the land of Moab. There, they meet Ruth, who will forever change their lives as well as the very lineage of Christ. This story of personal loss and loyalty shows us how to welcome.

God listens to our prayers. Our words? Not so much. God knows what's in our hearts, despite the words we choose. What if we, like the Holy Spirit, were to listen to what's underneath the noise? Perhaps then we could discover true common ground.

Our passage from the Letter to the Philippians contains what is called the Christ Hymn. Perhaps they used it in worship. It is very poetic language about who Jesus was. Jesus is described in this hymn as someone who 'emptied himself'.

The apostle Paul experienced hardships for his preaching. He was imprisoned, kicked out of towns, and suffered harm. He was willing to talk about his struggles, but he never stopped there. It can be easy to see our struggles as the conclusion of a story. It can be more challenging to see them as a part of a bigger story. In Paul's letter to the Philippians, Paul reminds us to look for the bigger thread that weaves our stories together, and, in the midst of his suffering, he makes the decision to rejoice.

In a city crowded with idols and an altar dedicated to an unknown god, the Apostle Paul discovered that humanity's deepest restlessness is itself a longing for the One in whom we live, move, and have our being.

When the earthquake opens every door and every chain falls loose, Paul and Silas don’t run. That inexplicable refusal — we are all here — is what converts a jailer, and what might yet convert us.

Paul’s conversion is one of the most dramatic stories in scripture. But if you had told 20 year old Paul that 2000 years later we would know him as the most prolific writer about Jesus, he would not have believed it. What a second act! Do we give people space to live their second acts?