Greeting all. I apologize for taking a couple of weeks off from #LetUsPray. Church has been extra taxing, and a bunch of colleagues came in for our annual gathering.

Today, I hope you will take a few minutes to leave feedback on The Amalgamation Content. The form is only open to subscribers (free and paid), and if you're one of the first 25 respondents, I'll send you a signed book of your choice.

Thanks in advance for the feedback!

In my pastoring, consulting, coaching, and speaking, I have probably worked or spoken with hundreds of churches about a broad range of topics: activism, organizational change, faith formation, Palestine, etc., but many (most?) conversations are about church growth sparked by some version of the question, "How do we get young people to join the church?"

Follow-up issues include, "How do I get my own children to come to church?" "Young people visit, but they rarely come back again" or some version of, "Please give us some tactics that get young people to join our church."

Honestly, it is nearly impossible to know exactly why visitors don't return or why people never come in the first place. Anyone who says, "Visitors don't come back because of X," is usually using non-returning visitors as a vehicle for their own gripes. Unless someone gives you a specific reason like, "I did not return because your sanctuary smelled like soup," saying people don't return because of music style, social media, or the preaching is just conjecture. That doesn't mean we stop trying to figure it out, but we must be honest about how legitimate our opinions are.

I find that many folks who have strong opinions about what it takes to grow a church have never actually been part of a growing church. Often, the more confident and definitive one's opinion is about a particular growth tactic, the more obvious it is that they have never actually been involved in the process of growing a church. Many may have been part of bigger churches, but participation in a bigger church isn't the same as helping it get there.

In my case, I have not only served churches that have grown in number and impact, but through my travels and coaching church planters, I have had the privilege of seeing effective church-growth strategies in action. The church will never be what it was when Christendom was the dominant faith narrative, but I believe self-reflective, discerning, and courageous congregations can grow.

Again, there is never one reason why so many of our older churches remain so, but there is one reason that I bet most of us have never thought of – "Young people love you too much to join you."

If you're one of the older congregations of which I speak, one that really wants young people to show up and participate, please stay with me through some of the critique. I very much believe that most church folks take their baptismal vows seriously when it comes to raising and nurturing the faith of future generations, but when I press folks, older churches that are chasing a younger demographic are usually motivated by a few things:

1. We love what our church has been, so we want younger people to replicate what we do and how we do it.
2. We are exhausted, so we want younger people to take over for us.
3. We are struggling financially, so we want younger people to give us their money.
4. We are watching our church die before our eyes, so we want young people make sure we surive – as long as they adhere to #1.

I know it's shocking, but these aren't inspiring, motivating, or compelling reasons for young people to rush to turn in those pledge cards. Still, I know young people will visit or come with their parents or grandparents, and when they do not stick around, we wonder why. We begin to catalog all of the reasons that this happens. We blame the one thing that must surely be the reason, because if it's not music, preaching, or technology, it means they choose not to join us because of who we are. Ouch.

I have many thoughts about church growth: theological, strategic, and tactical. I do know that there is not only one reason why older churches do not grow. Many individual variables, when combined, can create a space that repels young people, but have you considered that young people love and respect you too much to change something you love and cherish? Is it possible your kids will come on occasion, but not all the time, because they love you and don't want to change what you love? Is it possible that a young family that visits believes you are lovely people, but do not want be the ones responsible to start, populate, and run Sunday school?

Yes, it would be great if young folks would help, challenge, and even fight for the church they want to be part of, but why would they do that when they can find meaningful spiritual, musical, or communal experiences elsewhere? Sure, they may come for special occasions; they may dip their heads in to get a taste, and they may even stick around for a season. But wrestle and fight those of you who have built the church and are nurtured to make it into what they want; I doubt it. I think younger folks respect you and your space and aren't motivated to give their finite time, energy, and resources to change and dismantle what means so much to you. And sure, some churches say they are open to change, but why should younger people bear the burden of leading the charge? Short answer: they shouldn't, and they won't.

Remember, people today, young or old, can find community in many settings; music venues are plentiful, inspirational storytelling is easy to find, and the vibes that bring them joy take many forms. If the things that bring them meaning exist elsewhere, why would they spend energy changing something into something it isn't already? Again, they shouldn't and they won't.

How many of you would join an established community only to be told your first order of business was to change it? Why join and support something that does not already fit your needs? I join something because it already feeds me, not because I want to change it. Could you imagine the pitch, "We would love you to join our gym. Our machines are a little out of date, we only play heavy metal polka, and you will be the only one from your stage of life. But we would really like you to pay your membership (BTW, we only take personal checks), start a new run club, invite all of your friends, and spend extra time outside your workout to help us change. Oh, and we don't change very easily and we fight it tooth and nail, but pay no mind; we still want you to join. Whattaya say?"

Before you react with a "not all young folks," take a beat. Of course, one or two younger people are involved in many older congregations. I have met many of them, and they are awesome. Church nerds, but awesome. These folks most often already have a relationship with the church, so they feel enough loyalty and obligation to bear with what doesn't feed them, and enough ownership to try to change the church. It takes a particular personality and history to want to find a spiritual home, take the time to find one, show up, interact with a new group of people, and then commit to its future. These folks are few and far between.

Okay, Bruce, then how do you attract young people?

You'll have to keep up with So You Say You Want to Grow for that journey, but for today, I hope you can think differently about why young people aren't sticking around. What I am saying should not be a reason to stop thinking strategically or tactically, but permission and prodding to look through a different lens when thinking about young people's absence from the pews we love so much.

Peace —

I offer this weekly #LetUsPray as a way to stay anchored amidst the turmoil of the day. Paid subscribers have access to liturgical resources and sermon prompts based on the week's readings from The Revised Common Lectionary and/or The Narrative Lectionary.

Over the past years, as I've worked with churches through times of transition, I have had the chance to work with Sessions across all life stages and seasons of change. In Presbyterian-land, Session is the group called to lead and guide a particular congregation, and the Pastor generally moderates those meetings. In some cases, the community is filled with anxiety and conflict. In others, it is filled with anticipation and exploration. And in most cases, a little bit of them all.

Because the Session can quickly get tangled up in the church's business and mechanics, I begin each meeting with the Communion. Over the years, I have developed some meaningful group processes, but none is more important than helping the church's spiritual leaders reconnect to the reason we sit around that table, to be the Body of Christ in the world. Some might feel that the 20 minutes we spend at the beginning of Session could be used more efficiently, but I am confident that starting with the sharing of the bread and cup gives the rest of the meeting a more thoughtful, generous tone.

Having had such a meeting this week, I am glad to offer the penultimate part of the Faith Montage: Communion.

For the Beauty of Baptism #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

At the communion table, we are FED.

A table with space for stranger, sibling, sinner, and saint,
a table set with intention, tenderness, and care,
a table filled with an overflowing feast of love.

An ever-expanding table for all who wish to take their place.

Here our hunger is nourished by the bread of life,
the bread blessed and broken.

Here our thirst is quenched by the cup of the new promise,
the cup poured and passed.

Here a feast of faith is joyfully shared by the people of God,
a feast that nourishes and nurtures us all for the journey home.

— Amen.

Breath Prayer

Receive (inhale): We are fed...
Release (exhale): We are loved...

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

21st Sunday After Pentecost, October 18, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Isaiah 45:1-7 | Psalm 96:1-9, (10-13)
| 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10 | Matthew 22:15-22
Readings for Year 1, Matthew: Joshua 24:1-15 [16-26] Story of God’s deliverance. Joshua says, “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord” and Matt 4:8-10, Satan offers Jesus all kingdoms, but Jesus says, “Worship God and serve only him”

For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary (NL). For Bible translations, I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgical inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink.

Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

I offer this weekly #LetUsPray as a way to stay anchored amidst the turmoil of the day. Paid subscribers have access to liturgical resources and sermon prompts based on the week's readings from The Revised Common Lectionary and/or The Narrative Lectionary.

Everyone needs a good movie cry every once in a while. Over the past week, I have had two such cleansings.

First, like a good Filipino during Filipino American History Month, I saw Forgotten Island (95% 🍅🍿) twice, and the tears got me both times. Don't let the trailer fool you; it reaches deep into the pinoy/ay soul.

Then, on the recommendation of our Middle kid, this evening I saw If I Go, Will They Miss Me (also 95% 🍅🍿) All aboard the train to Bawler City 😭 Not only was this film visually stunning, but the pace and depth felt countercultural to today's speed of life. It is not playing everywhere, so if you are lucky enough to have it showing in your town, don't sleep on it.

I legit got teary just watching the trailer again.

Hold on to him tight, Don’t let him fly away, don’t let them take him away…tell him you love him.

Seems fitting that my tear-cleansing week would coincide with the section of my Faith Montage on Baptism.

For the Beauty of Baptism #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

In baptism we are RENEWED.
Renewed, refreshed, and reminded by the water of life,
the flowing waters of our ancestors,
the living water of future generations.

Baptized not as a transactional act that purchases God’s favor,
but as a response to what God is doing in our lives and the world.

Baptized not to settle for a future bound by scarcity,
but to see dreams realized that are fueled by the abundance of God.

Baptized not as a private gesture to prove our purity of faith,
but as a public act to proclaim our devotion to one another.

Baptized not as a final destination on our journey to know God,
but as a commitment to return over and over again to the place where the waterfalls, rivers, and streams of living water flow unrestrained.

— Amen.

Breath Prayer

Receive (inhale): Refreshed...
Release (exhale): And cleansed...

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

20th Sunday After Pentecost, October 11, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Isaiah 25:1-9 | Psalm 23 | Philippians 4:1-9 | Matthew 22:1-14
Readings for Year 1, Matthew: Exodus 19:3-7; 20:1-17, God brings Israel as on eagle’s wings. Matt 5:17, Jesus came not to abolish the law and prophets but to fulfill them.

For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary (NL). For Bible translations, I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgical inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink.

Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

I offer this weekly #LetUsPray as a way to stay anchored amidst the turmoil of the day. Paid subscribers have access to liturgical resources and sermon prompts based on the week's readings from The Revised Common Lectionary and/or The Narrative Lectionary.

This past week, I flew a lot: Burbank, San Francisco, Toronto, and Ann Arbor – and boy are my arms tired 😜 While I enjoy the seasons when I'm pastoring, I love seeing new places through speaking and preaching gigs.

I really loved my brief time in Toronto. It's like San Francisco and New York had a baby. Toronto had me hanging out with some young radicals on behalf of the Presbyterian Church (USA) at the International Coalition for Human Rights in the Philippines (ICHRP) Kapit Bisig (Arm in Arm) Conference in Toronto. Sidebar: Every justice conference should also have an action.

I then guest preached at First UMC, Ann Arbor, and delivered the Henry Loud Lecture at the U of Michigan Wesley Foundation.

But whew, the church reentry week has been a doozy. For some reason, Sundays keep happening every week; we are having some consequential conversations, and important interruptions have required attention. I do love this work, but this evening you MAY have found me at a late-night movie (Forgotten Island) and then eating an entire pizza on the walk home at 10:00pm. So yes, this late-night prayer post is being fueled by a sausage, onion, and mushroom pizza.

Today, this portion of the Faith Montage is a quick bridge to the sacraments. The next two weeks will be Baptism and Communion. The liturgies around World Communion Sunday center on the Isaiah passage.

Faith Montage: Heading to the Sealed and Sacramental #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

As we go, we join with other seeking and searching souls,
we name, we seal, and we proclaim our commitment to the faith.

We claim the faith that we chose to believe
in ritual and rite,
sacred and sacramental,
proclaimed and public,
jubilant and free.

— Amen.

Breath Prayer

Receive (inhale): May my faith.
Release (exhale): Be sealed and sacramental.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

World Communion Sunday, October 4, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20 | Isaiah 5:1-7 | Philippians 3:4b-14 | Matthew 21:33-46
Readings for Year 1, Matthew: Exodus 14:5-7, 10-14, 21-29: The sea parts at the Exodus; God’s deliverance. Matt 2:13-15: Mary, Joseph, and Jesus in Egypt, out of Egypt have I called my son

For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary (NL). For Bible translations, I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgical inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink.

Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

This past week I had another one of my regular post-COVID blood tests. Ever since my COVID scare, I have carried some elevated numbers requiring us to check in on my kidney function every 3-4 months. I have no obvious symptoms, but we are just making sure that my new "normal" stays that way.

Every time I go in for my blood test, two feelings inevitably emerge: gratitude and empathy. Gratitude for my health and for those who had a role in my treatment and recovery, and empathy for those who suffer from chronic illness, especially for those whose afflictions are not immediate or visibly obvious.

When I was in the early stages of my long COVID recovery, after the oxygen tanks were gone and I was back out in the world, I remember people's doubtful looks. They saw me as returning to my old self, so I'm sure they found it difficult to comprehend my explanation of spoon theory and pacing in response to my fatigue. "So, you just need more naps?" accompanied by a look of "lucky you" was more frequent than you may realize. I'm certain people were not thinking I was engaging in a long con, but I also know that it required extra work to believe that I was debilitaingly sick when I looked fine to them.

What folks failed to understand is that I ONLY went out when I could present as normal and have the energy to feel like me again. They didn't see me afterward, passed out on the couch. What folks didn't see were the days when headaches prevented me from opening my eyes. What they didn't see was the fatigue that would overwhelm me without warning. People certainly didn't see the frustration that ate at my spirit when I couldn't return to the "Bruce" we all wanted me to become. And not many were privy to the heartbreaking choices I had to make because I didn't know if I WOULD ever fully recover.

Thankfully, I am, for all intents and purposes, recovered. I am different for the experience, but carry no symptoms that restrict what I can do in life.

Many, because of long COVID or other afflictions, cannot say the same.

Every time I leave the hospital lab, I breathe a few prayers...

• for those who have to interact with the hospital far more frequently, undergoing invasive procedures and constant testing,
• for those whose chronic pain and fatigue prevent them from moving through the world unencumbered by the limitations of their bodies,
• for those whose chronic illness has put a strain on their relationships, financial security, and emotional well-being,
• for those whose suffering does not manifest in outward symptoms, so they are left to suffer in silence and be looked upon with thinly veiled suspicion and doubt,
• and for those who are more than their illness but struggle to be seen as such.

Compared to what others have to go through, my quarterly blood tests are a minor inconvenience, but they are a constant reminder that I probably interact with people suffering in silence every day. My guess is there are people suffering all around you as well, but for whatever reason, they have chosen not to disclose their situation. They have probably figured out how to navigate the waves of suffering, stay as productive as possible, and look fine in public. Please remember what you do not see.

Unless someone chooses to share their situation, there isn't much we can do. But since this falls firmly in the "you never know what other people are going through" bucket, creating spaces where anyone, regardless of physical ability, is the least we can do. 

Lastly, if you are the one suffering, no matter your situation, please know and believe that you are seen and loved. 

Also, #healthcareforall!

Peace,

I offer this weekly #LetUsPray as a way to stay anchored amidst the turmoil of the day. Paid subscribers have access to liturgical resources and sermon prompts based on the week's readings from The Revised Common Lectionary and/or The Narrative Lectionary.

Have you ever had one of those weeks when your schedule fits together like a well-cut puzzle? Or at least you think it does.

This is the week I am in now.

There are no major projects to do, but between spending with family in San Francisco, scheduling 4 local appointments, buying a new car and selling another, and buy a car, driving back to Pasadena, and then flying back out of Pasadena to events in Toronto and Detroit, it's a little more spinny in my head than usual.

All good things. It'll be fine.

If you haven't already figured out the content flow of the Faith Montage, it moves through the breadth of the Christian faith as I and many others understand it. We begin with God and Gathering and slowly make our way to our Sending.

My frenzy of a week got me thinking about all the ways we each offer what we have to the things we are passionate about: family, movements, work, etc. Too often the church thinks about offering mostly in monetary forms, but as we know, there are so many other ways we can offer back to God what God has given to our stewardship.

Today, the Faith Montage addresses offering that is grounded in the generosity of God.

Faith Montage: For My Offering to God #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

With a posture of plenty, wisdom, and faith I offer back to God.
What I have is not mine to store up and hoard.
What I do is not meant for acknowledgment and affirmation.
What I believe is not meant to remain stagnant and stale.

What I have, what I do, what I believe come from God,
with a spirit of hopeful joy,
with a posture of abundant generosity,
with trust in God that the world would deny.

I return all that I am and all that I have to God.
Time. Talent. Treasure.
Energy. Expertise. Wealth.
Presence. Passion. Privilege.

I choose generosity because God has been generous to me.

— Amen.

Breath Prayer

Receive (inhale): May I be as generous.
Release (exhale): As God is generous to me.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 27, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Exodus 17:1-7 | Psalm 78:1-4, 12-16 | Philippians 2:1-13 | Matthew 21:23-32
Readings for Year 1, Matthew: Genesis 39:1-23 Joseph is unjustly put in prison; yet God is present with him there. Matt 5:11-12, Blessed are you when people revile you

For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary (NL). For Bible translations, I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgical inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink.

Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

A few weeks ago, during a hospital visit, the nurse and I got to chatting. She had seen me a few times before, so she felt comfortable starting off with, "I don't know any pastors. So, what do you do?"

We then had a great conversation about being a church pastor. She didn't know that some pastors are paid. She had no idea what else a pastor might do besides Sundays. And she was fascinated by the different ways pastors show up in the community and with individuals. At one point, I said, "I bet you do know some pastors, but they probably don't lead with that part of themselves."

That interaction, along with meeting with a family to plan a memorial, talking with someone struggling with life, facilitating difficult discussions with church leadership, and my umpteeth one-hour coffee that turned into, "Oh my, how did two hours go by?" hang-out, got me thinking about why I keep saying yes to serve churches.

I posted this prompt on Facebook to see what others thought

I know pastoring a congregation can be difficult and overwhelming, but here's the prompt (to link to a new post)— "It is an blessing, honor, and privilege to be a pastor because..."

Read all of the responses on FB

Much of what was shared is what you would often hear from Pastors. Yes, it is frustrating; yes, it's exhausting; yes, it's lonely; yes, yes, yes, to all the difficult parts of the calling — but at this moment and season in my life, it is where God is calling me to be, and it is a blessed existence.

DISCLAIMER: For too many, pastoring has been anything but a privilege, blessing, and joy. After last week's post about all the ways not to give feedback to your pastor, I hope folks know that I have no delusions about congregational pastoring. For a variety of reasons, it can be a painful, overwhelming, and demoralizing existence; it's not for everyone. Too many good pastors have been chewed up and spit out by the endeavor. Sure, it can also be the person or the match, but make no mistake, churches can be soul-sucking and faith-crushing without everyone knowing it.

I have experienced the breadth of congregational life and treatment, good and bad (I have stories and receipts), but on the whole, pastoring has given my professional life meaning and my spiritual life depth.

I get to bring my depth and breadth, humor and pathos, energy and stillness, faith and doubt and everything in between to conversations that matter (even if just to us right there in the moment) pretty much every day.
—Laura Schmidt Viau in response to this FB prompt.

If you are new to the church or have no context to work from, I am afraid this next part is going to be a little churchy.

There are many, many, many ways to be a pastor today. Training, ordination processes, duties, expectations, and types of pastoral callings depend greatly on the denomination, association, or congregation. While some of my best friends are not Presbyterian Church (USA) pastors, this is the denominational context from which I speak.

I was ordained in 1995 after earning my Master of Divinity (Yes, a little presumptuous) and going through a care process that took roughly three years. It included passing multiple ordination exams (FTR I failed the multiple-choice Bible Content Exam twice and passed Polity, Theology, Worship, and Exegesis the first time. Go figure.) I also had to complete an internship in a context unlike my home church, so I did campus ministry at UC Berkeley with the ecumenical Christian community, UNITAS. It all ended with the ominously named "trials of ordination," when you stand before your new colleagues and get peppered with questions about theology, call, and pretty much whatever else folks want to ask. #BackInMyDay when our denomination was battling about LGBTQIA acceptance, it was brutal, and many of us got caught up in the middle of it. The general rule back then was, "Just stop talking after you answer the question," because the more you talked, the more likely you were to give one side or the other something to latch onto. These days, the care process is actually and usully caring.

While not every pastor serves a congregation, those who do have a variety of titles depending on the congregation's stage: Pastor, Associate Pastor, Interim Pastor, Pulpit Supply, etc. In my career, I have been a Designated Pastor (One who serves a bit before deciding if it is a good long-term fit), a Church Planter (One who starts new congregations), an Installed Pastor (One who serves the church for the, hopefully, long term), an Interim, Bridge, and Transitional Pastor (one who serves between pastoral leadership). I am currently the Bridge Pastor at Pasadena Presbyterian Church in CA. In all, I have served nine churches, all in California: two in Southern California and the rest in Northern California.

Over my almost 31 years of ministry, I have felt all the feels a pastor can feel. There have been seasons when my calling has been clear and compelling, and other seasons when the call has been more a job fueled by drudgery and burnout.

And yet, I keep saying. "Yes," and here are three reasons why —

1) Day Drinking at the Hospital

It’s a privilege to be admitted to the most important parts of people’s lives, to celebrate the arrival of new life, to hold a person’s hand as she breathes her last. It becomes holy ground.
—Stephen Scott in response to this FB prompt.

It was time. We all stood around this giant of a man (physically and spiritually) and said farewell the way he would have wanted: with a prayer and whisky, so after dabbing a few drops on his lips, he died. There were tears and grief, but the family also gave thanks for a life well-lived. "To Dad!" and the shots of Scotch whisky were lifted up and then down the hatch.

There were tears, there were stories, and there was laughter — especially because the only shot glasses the nurses could find for us looked suspiciously like urine sample containers. We were assured they were sterile.

It was holy, and I was invited in because I was the family pastor.

Hospital visits are among the most uplifting and heartbreaking parts of congregational pastoring. I have been in hospital rooms for a variety of reasons over the years: welcoming a new child into the world, praying with people before surgery, sitting with folks during recovery, and when they transition from this life into what is next. There is nothing more humbling and holy than being present when a family lets their loved one go. Sometimes these times the decision to remove someone from life support is clear, and at other times, filled with conflict. It is never easy, but these moments are always tender and the greatest privilege of my pastoral life.

Whether in times of tragedy or celebration, some families don't always want or need a pastor during the tenderest of times. That's always okay, but I always offer because folks more often than not will take me up on it. Too many people feel like it is an imposition on my time, when it is my greatest honor to be with folks in these intimate moments.

For everyone who has welcomed me into these spaces over the years, thank you.

2) Feeding Troughs in the Park

You often help change and undo people's wrong, scary ideas about God.
—Leah Sophia in response to this FB prompt.

I cannot imagine what the feed store clerk was thinking as he witnessed me going from one feeding trough to another, testing to see if I would fit lying down, "Code red: serial killer in aisle 4."

While I was pastoring in San Francisco, someone wanted to be baptized by full immersion, and because most Presbyterian sanctuaries are rarely built with baptismal fonts large enough for full immersion, we had to improvise. Not sure where we got the idea, but once someone said, "What about a feeding trough?" we knew we'd figured it out. Brilliant.

The baptism was meaningful, and I still giggle every time I think back to that poor feed store clerk, but the most memorable part of that experience was knowing that, because of the belonging they experienced in the church, they wanted to shift the lens through which they lived their life. This decision was not taken lightly or quickly. The decision to be baptized and publicly proclaim a relationship with Jesus only happened after hours of conversation and much discernment.

Of course, not everyone decides to make such a commitment when connected to a church. It is not a small act. As a pastor, it is my responsibility to nurture a space where they can discern that relationship with the holy, even if it does not lead to a commitment to Jesus. Knowing that I have played a small part in helping others on their faith journey is a privilege.

A pastor's role does not stop with individuals. We are also called to tend the processes by which the church discerns belief and to nurture healthy processes for discerning how those beliefs are manifested. Over the years, I have encouraged some to leave space for others, reassured others to step into spaces where their voices were needed, and have tried to do so with wisdom, grace, and faith. A healthy process, no matter the decisions made, should model faithful living in community. At the end of most meetings I lead, I ask, "If there were people watching our meeting, what values did they see expressed?" This simple exercise helps shape all our processes with an eye toward being the body of Christ over being right. Over time, communities take more care in what they say to and how they treat one another.

Whether it be an individual or a process, our role and the expections that are placed upon us are a responsibility that I do not take lightly. As I have engaged in ministry over the years with individuals and groups, I have not always been as positive an influence as intended. But playing a part in a process that moves people and communities toward a deeper relationship with God is a sweet, sweet feeling.

3) To Love and Be Loved

The saints around me show me every day what faithful, inspired living looks like.
—Chip Hardwick in response to this FB prompt.

We are a rescue dog family. Never say never, but we will probably never know a dog with AKA street cred. Give us the dog who has lived a complicated life and has not always been loved as well as it deserves. Without fail, I have posted something about our "rescue" over the years; without exception, someone drops a response to the effect of, "Who rescued who?" and they are not wrong to ask because there is always a mutual rescuing of sorts.

Please don't take the metaphor too far, but when a call is right, a common experience of belonging and home happens. While being the pastor is technically a job and the church is technically an employer, when the call is right, it is so much more — mutuality takes place in unexpected ways, and we become better humans for it.

It pains me to think back to what I must have been like as a 26-year-old pastor. While I am confident I did much well, I also know there were just as many times when I was less than who God hoped I would be. Reflecting on my early years in ministry, events may not have always worked out as planned, but God's hopes were certainly revealed along the way. As I think back over all the churches I have served, grace became real again and again through our mutual growth and love for one another. I also know that at 57 years old, and after 30+ years of ministry, I am not done growing or being part of the growth of others.

Just like the relationship between the rescued and rescuer (please don't break your brain trying to figure out who is who in this metaphor), it takes time to find those spaces of mutual healing and love. There are hills, valleys, and everything in between. What is ordinary and normal one day may be different next month or that afternoon. What matters is that we go through it together, with a shared belief that this is the relationship God intends for us all.

Bonus: Costco on Hump Day

I am being paid to love people.
—Wendy Komori Stager in response to this FB prompt.

 The pastor's schedule is a vehicle of liberation, more precisely, a liberation from long lines at the grocery store, inconvenient appointments, and crowded movie theaters. I have not been to a Costco on a weekend in decades.

Why? Because I don't have to.

Seriously, if you are on a pastor's schedule and you are not taking advantage of the flexibility to go to movies by yourself, run errands when it's not crowded, or be a parent who can be at all the school things, you are missing out. Do not let people or yourself fall into the trap of believing self-care and doing so when others are working is somehow slacking. It is not.

All of this is built on the assumption that the individual can hold healthy and holy boundaries AND the congregation understands the importance of doing so. I haven't always been great at this, but once I realized I am not an emergency room doctor and that I'm a better partner, parent, and pastor when my life is in harmony, being disciplined about my self-care is a no-brainer.

So yes, I am still at it, and I intend to keep saying yes for a wee bit longer. I have no idea what's next for me after this current setting (Not until mid-2027, so don't send me openings quite yet). I certainly have stipulations and non-negotiables at this stage of my pastoral life, but as much as possible, I will leave room for God to reveal where I am led next because I do love this pastor thing.

I offer this weekly #LetUsPray as a way to stay anchored amidst the turmoil of the day. Paid subscribers have access to liturgical resources and sermon prompts based on the week's readings from The Revised Common Lectionary and/or The Narrative Lectionary.

Greetings, all, from some late-night, hip, young workspace coffee place in LA. And yes, I may be the oldest person here. All good, just call me Kuya B.

Not sure if you have heard, but my new book just came out 😜

This week has been a doozy. Intense conversations abound in my life, personally and professionally. I have facilitated some important conversations that folks would rather not have and have heard some hard stories from others. I am not sure that I have been home before 10 pm in the past week. I firmly believe that there are seasons of life and work, so this will settle in time.

The part of the faith montage that comes up today feels almost like I wrote it as a letter to myself for this particular moment and season.

Faith Montage: For the Generosity of God #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

I believe in the GENEROUS spirit of God.

God has been generous to me, so I give back to God
all that I have the courage and faith to offer.

When the fear of scarcity causes me to forsake abundance,
I choose generosity.

When the insidiousness of convenience causes me to avoid
discomfort,
I choose generosity.

When capitalism makes me want to commodify what I offer,
I choose generosity.

When arrogance causes me to tie strings to my gifts,
I choose generosity.

When despair causes me to ask, “Why bother?”
I choose generosity.

When I forget that I have chosen to believe that, in life and in
death, I belong to God,
I choose generosity.

I choose generosity because God has been generous to me.

— Amen.

Breath Prayer

Receive (inhale): May I know generosity.
Release (exhale): May I be generosity.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 20, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Exodus 16:2-15 | Psalm 105:1-6, 37-45 | Philippians 1:21-30 | Matthew 20:1-16
Readings for Year 1, Matthew: Genesis 12:1-9 (Call of Abraham, promise of land, descendants, blessing to the nations) and Matt 28:19-20 (Go therefore and make disciples of all nations)

For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary (NL). For Bible translations, I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgical inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink.

Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

Prophets, Priests, Pastors, & Poets: Being and Becoming the Resurrected Christ is out today! I am so grateful for all involved in this project. I am still humbled that folks keep inviting me into these projects and bring a team together to ensure the end result is as meaningful as possible. Thank you, Team Chalice Press!

Get your copy of PPPP and the accompanying Advent Devotional for 30% off, direct from Chalice!

From the Introduction Section, "Who is this for?"

What I hope to offer is a textured understanding of Jesus that may
meet folks in various stages of curiosity, confusion, and contemplation:

If you are curious about Jesus for the first or fiftieth time, I hope the Jesus I offer is a meaningful one.

If you have had Jesus-adjacent experiences through friends or family and are now interested in diving a little deeper, I hope you will be inspired to keep exploring on your own or with others.

If you have been frustrated by the domesticated version of Jesus, one marked by indifference about the injustices of the world, I hope to share Jesus, the disrupter and teller of truth.

If you are tired of the one-dimensional version of Jesus that is expressed only in words, only in actions, or only personally, I hope to share Jesus, the holder of the richness of discipline and tradition.

If you have been harmed or traumatized by the ways Jesus has been weaponized against you and others, I hope to share Jesus, the gatherer, healer, and cultivator of belonging.

If you are drained by the version of Jesus that lacks inspiration, imagination, and joy, I hope to share Jesus, the creative unleasher of imagination.

After nearly thirty years of ministry, I am still on the same journey as so many others in understanding and following Jesus, meaning that my faith is always in flux. My personal and communal understanding and experiences with Jesus shift, change, and adapt as the world’s circumstances dictate. While some see a change in theological understanding as a weakness, I see it as a strength. Just as my actual muscles need to be stretched and strengthened as my physical body moves through different stages of life, my spiritual and theological muscles must do the same when my experience of the world expands.

I am constantly amazed by the revelations about my faith that abound when I embrace the idea that I will never be done getting to know the one we call Jesus the Christ. In short, this book is as much about my own exploration and learning as it is about yours. So welcome and thank you for taking me along.

Whether these newest books or any previous ones, if your group uses any of my books for a group read, I would love to Zoom and say "Hi!"

Video which is also on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube for your sharing pleasure.

I can hardly believe that by the end of the year I will have 10 titles under my name. I am as surprised as anyone else, but here we are. On behalf of all Z-List authors, every purchase, review, or library request is deeply appreciated. And if you can, please purchase from your local bookseller or from Bookshop.

Thank you to all who have walked with me through all of these projects. Here is a stroll down the stacks.

1. 2012 The Definitive-ish Guide for Using Social Media in the Church
2. 2013 But I Don't See You as Asian: Curating Conversations about Race
3. 2015 40 Days, 40 Prayers, 40 Words: Lenten Reflections for Everyday Life
4. 2016 Rule #2: Don't Be an Asshat: An Official Handbook for Raising Parents and Children (Co-written with my co-parent)
5. 2021 In Defense of Kindness: Why It Matters, How It Changes Our Lives, and How It Can Save the World
6. 2024 Everything Good about God Is True: Choosing Faith
7. 2026 How Long, Oh Lord?: A Prayerbook Concerning Gun Violence (Main contributor)
8. 2026 Prophets, Priests, Pastors, & Poets: Being and Becoming the Resurrected Christ
9. 2026 Possibility: Our Advent Journey with the Prophet, Priest, Pastor, & Poet
10. 2026 Beckon: Our Lent Journey with the Prophet, Priest, Pastor, & Poet

How Long, Oh Lord?: A Prayerbook Concerning Gun Violence is available only from the Presbyterian Bookstore (Code: BRC for 20% off). and The Definitive-ish Guide to Using Social Media in the Church is no longer available.

For Audio versions of Everything Good About God and In Defense of Kindness, please consider Libro.FM.

I offer this weekly #LetUsPray as a way to stay anchored amidst the turmoil of the day. Paid subscribers have access to liturgical resources and sermon prompts based on the week's readings from The Revised Common Lectionary and/or The Narrative Lectionary.

Greetings all, from 100+ degree Pasadena, CA 🥵

I had the most random thought today: "Why do we like one shape of pasta over another?" I told you it was random. I used rigatoni this evening, thinking I was "branching out" in my pasta game. Silly boy. It's the same food item, just produced in different shapes. And yet, people have preferences. FTR, I love me a good al dente angel hair followed closely by mini-elbows if I can find them. I am sure someone somewhere has done a study on such things. Again, random.

This week, there has been some very serious discernment at the church I work with, as well as some personal decisions. I was thinking about how I make some of my most important decisions. Of course, I talk wth family – and more and more with my adult children. I also have a group of colleagues who have been meeting together for 25+ years. We have walked with one another through the joys and tragedies of life and have participated in discernment journeys about both personal and professional matters. So grateful for these saints in my life.

This week's #LetUsPray is basically what I believe about Jesus and why I am grateful for the fullness of his life, death, and resurrection. There is always a possibility that ideas change over time, but I am confident my beliefs about Jesus will not change much.

Faith Montage: In Gratitude for the Fullness of Jesus #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

I choose to believe in grace made real through Jesus Christ.

For the complete and complex humanity of Jesus,
and the mysterious and boundless divinity of the Christ,

I am GRATEFUL.

Grateful for the prophet, activist, and agitator,
who speaks God’s hopes, intentions, and truth into the world.

Grateful for the pastor, protector, and gatherer,
who curates space for curiosity, compassion, and kinship.

Grateful for the priest, steward, and guide,
who tends, grounds, and guides the spirits of those on the journey.

Grateful for the poet, artist, and creative,
who instigates, inspires, and invites exploration of divine possibility.

Grateful for the unpretentious life of Christ,
the teacher and friend.

Grateful for the revelatory death of Christ,
the offender and threat.

And grateful for the promised resurrection of Christ,
the seeker and solace.

For in the life, death, and resurrection of the one called Christ,
we are reconnected to God,
reunited with the saints,
loved for eternity,
and promised that one day there will be a new heaven
and new earth.

For this I am grateful.
For this we are grateful.

In all of this, we find mystery, meaning, and motivation.

— Amen.

Breath Prayer

Receive (inhale): May I know Christ.
Release (exhale): May Christ know me.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 13, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Exodus 14:19-31 | Psalm 114:1-8 | Romans 14:1-12 | Matthew 18:21-35
Readings for Year 1, Matthew: Genesis 6:5-22; 8:6-12; 9:8-17 (Noah, the flood, and the promise of the rainbow) and Matthew 8:24-27 (Jesus calms the storm)

For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary (NL). For Bible translations, I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgical inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink.

Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

Because I am not serving in a church as a permanent pastor, I have the freedom to share a dilemma I suspect many pastors struggle with on the regular, "How do I let my congregation know that their feedback is not always helpful?"

Gather 'round, let me tell you a story.

One day a parishioner came up to me after worship and asked if they could have a word. Not the first time I have been cornered after worship, so I knew this conversation could go in a few directions: to inform me of a pastoral situation, to talk about a particular church program or event, or to critique the sermon I just preached or the service I just led. I still remember this particular instance because it began with kind words about the sermons I had been preaching of late. Cool, cool, cool, but there must be more, right? I remember standing there thinking to myself, "Buuuuuuuut?" because the other shoe would certainly drop soon, right? Wrong. This person only wanted to let me know that that day's illustration got him thinking about a particular situation in his life and that he was grateful.

This is what happens when we assume.

What was that about, assuming that feedback was going to be bad? Of course, these interactions right after worship often have a negative vibe, so I found myself closed off to the possibility that the interaction might be a positive one. So yeah, apparently three decades into this pastoral life, I am still living with my trauma from past stinging critiques, negative evaluations, and people just being mean.

Over the years, I've learned how to regulate my reactions when necessary. Not every word offered needs to be responded to right then and there. And in those times when a critique is so unfair or off-base that it requires immediate attention, I have learned to lovingly call people out in the moment. Most importantly, I no longer see every critique as all-or-nothing, as there may be nuggets of wisdom even in the nastiest feedback. Yes, I am 1000 times better at receiving critique than I was 30 years ago, and no, it is never fun. Yes, feedback of all kinds is helpful and needed, but it is never fun. And yes, reflecting on failures provides opportunities for growth, but it is never fun.

Before I present my grievances before the court, it is important to acknowledge that when it comes to offering and receiving feedback, constructive or otherwise, context is everything. There are so many variables at play: power dynamics, personal history, personality differences, and cultural norms. Everything must be translated.

Here are a few advisory notices for those times when you find yourself too eager to let the pastor know how to do their job.

Don't offer sermon or service critiques right after worship.

Many who plan and lead worship are already overly focused on production and flow elements. We can sometimes lose sight of the ultimate purpose of worship: to gather God's people in order to honor God. Worship can sometimes feel more like a gathering of tasks we must get through than an experience in which all involved, including the leaders, experience the holy. One reason this is the case is that participants have communicated to the pastor that not only is every worship element being assessed in real time, but they will also hear about it as soon as worship is over. Yes, there should always be an evaluation process, but if it happens immediately, the experience becomes a weekly timed test to pass rather than a divine moment for the community to share together.

The other reason not to offer critiques immediately after worship, especially if it's about the sermon, is that we are probably still exhaling from leading worship and may not be at our best. I am not responsible for my words if you come for me with accusations, innuendo, and constructive feedback in the receiving line. I guarantee you that most of us are not in the space to hear any of it. For some folks, preaching, leading, and then socializing all while wearing the pastor sash can be draining. While I understand that some might assume a pastor would want to engage while everything is still fresh, most of us really want to go home and take a nap.

Whatever critiques you were planning to lay at my feet, I promise they can wait until Tuesday.

Offer what and how you experienced a particular sermon or service.

For the love of God, please let me know how you have experienced something, either positively or negatively, and not what "people are saying," or by dropping an ambiguous judgment as if it were a peer-reviewed study backed by some unnamed group, when it is really a personal opinion.

Yes, use "I" statements. I find feedback that helps me know how you personally experienced something the most helpful. Settled decrees or verdicts, not so much. When we engage around how you experienced something, we dive in deeper and don't stop at the surface. When we engage more fully, even if we end up not agreeing and nothing changes, we can prevent any single issue from becoming a flashpoint of division because we understand one another's perspectives a bit better.

Don't presume you know what it is like to be a pastor.

Okay, this may feel harsh, but it is the one I get most worked up about. If your pastor's vibe changed after you told them how to be a pastor, and you are not or have never been one, this could be why.

I am not saying that our work and what we do are beyond accountability; rather, the assumptions made by those who hold pastors accountable must be examined. Is the feedback based on how the community has experienced the pastor's ministry, or is it given with the presumption that the one giving it knows best how to do the job of pastor?

To be as clear as possible, if you have never been a congregational pastor, you do not know how to be a congregational pastor. You may have ideas about what it may be like, or you may have seen other pastors serve in a way you like, but telling me how to do something that you have never actually done yourself is like me calling up United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Palestinian Territories, Francesca Albanese, and telling her how to be more kick-ass . . . and yes, in the metaphor, I am United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Palestinian Territories, Francesca Albanese. Don't @ me. Sure, I have a vague understanding of what she does and some knowledge of the topics she covers, but in all reality, I have no idea what she really does or what is required to do what she does.

Again, again, again, I am not saying that pastors should be exempt from evaluation or accountability or that every pastor is an excellent pastor (whatever that means). What I am saying is that assumptions about the scale, scope, and particulars of pastoral ministry should be examined before offering feedback — because being a church pastor is its own kind of special.

Here are just a few ways pastoral ministry differs from other work situations...

• Sunday is is just the tip of the iceburg, so until you have had to prepare to stand up in front of people and interpret The Word of God every week for 10 weeks in a row all while juggling fluid administrative duties, unexpected pastoral emergencies, family life, self-care, being sure to eat, and trying to sleep, don't be shocked when we do not respond as our best selves when sermons are nitpicked, you get mad at something that was never actual said, or you question how much time we put into our work.
• Power dynamics are hella messed up, so until you've had to tend to the spiritual life of the same people who make decisions about your livelihood, don't act surprised when we don't share where we are not performing well, when we don't ask for help, or when we aren't willing to stir up the kind of trouble you want us to. When you control our compensation and job security, we have to pick and choose if, when, and how we will risk losing them.
• Boundaries are often seen as suggestions, so until you have had a job where you were presumed to be accessible at all times, no one uses the same communication platform, everyone has a different definition "urgent," and taking vacation is not worth the energy output of the prep or recovery, don't take it personally when we hold to strict boundaries between church, life, and self.

There are more, but these were the first ones that popped into my head.

Now, if you are a church leader reading this and your first reaction is to come up with exceptions to dispute the issues I have raised, I dare say you may be one of those causing the stress in your pastor's life. I do not serve in a permanent call, so I am freer to lift these issues up.

We are far from perfect, but I dare say none of us are.

So what now? I certainly do not want folks to walk on eggshells around your Pastor in fear of what you might say, but I hope this will give some behind-the-pulpit insights into the lives of those called to serve the church. If you are a church leader on a council, board, or session, pass this along, especially to those who tend to be unnecessarily hard on pastoral leadership.

Pastors, this thing called pastoral ministry is, at its best, a blessing, honor, and privilege, so I hope you feel a little more seen and heard.

Peace,

[Update: the original post said this was six years ago. It was five 🤦🏽. ]

Wowza, it's been a while since I have reflected on COVID's impact on my life. I suppose that is a good thing, as COVID has not been front of mind for most of us these past few years. The revelations and ramifications of the pandemic continue to wreak havoc in many areas of life, and, sadly, we still don't know the full impact of long COVID on so many.

Make no mistake, in all aspects of my COVID experience, I count myself fortunate to be where I am today in body, mind, and spirit.

This month marks the beginning of it all. It is hard to believe that all of this went down six years ago. The world and I have changed so much since. If you want the detailed recap, visit my Ongoing Long Covid Diary, check out my saved COVID Highlights on IG, or read past Covid Update Posts.

For those who were not part of it, here is a quick recap.

It all began during our trip to drop off our youngest kid at college.

We were officially empty nesters!

Next was a stop in Surprise, Arizona, to visit my in-laws (Spoiler: there are zero surprises in Surprise, Arizona.) Somewhere along the way, COVID got me. We don't know exactly when or where, but I have my suspicions.

It was a Tuesday night (The day is burned into my memory). After spending the entire day with my in-laws, who miraculously did NOT catch the virus, Robin and I were lounging about, and I began to feel it. During the night, the headaches, shortness of breath, and chills began.

Like everyone else who got sick during that time, you pray it's just the flu, but there is a moment when it hits you: "Duck, this is not the flu."

I tested positive.

Now what? We were in AZ, we knew that I had some pre-existing conditions, and the Delta variant was hospitalizing a new wave of people. I called my doctor and told her the symptoms. She basically said that she could not advise me to travel, but if I happened to find myself back in CA, I was to call her right away so that we could begin COVID protocols. Robin and I thought long and hard about making the long drive home. Because of my in-laws, we knew what the healthcare system in AZ was: a chaotic, disconnected, and frustrating maze of a system. We were also aware AZ was approaching COVID much differently than we were. It was not a difficult decision, so we hopped in the car and drove home pretty quickly. We only stopped to charge the car and interacted with no one. We know that some felt it was irresponsible (Including one nasty-ass DM from a parent of one of our kids' friends who was a nurse [BLOCK]), but there was no way I was going to be treated by the AZ healthcare system.

Before we left, I informed the church I was serving because I was pretty sure I would not be leading worship that Sunday. Reading that post reminds me how divided we were then, and that division was just the beginning of the division we have today.

I know that many of you have very strong opinions about vaccinations, the pandemic, and the politics of it all, but let me emphasize that, at the end of the day, we must see one another as members of the Body of Christ — when one part suffers, we all suffer, when one rejoices, we all rejoice. Our compassion and empathy should not be contingent upon political agreement, so please continue to hold all — ALL — who are being impacted by Covid-19 in your prayers.

Read the entire IG caption.

After we got back to Palo Alto, I called my doctor and told her about my symptoms. She quickly referred me to the COVID response team, who called me back almost immediately. As I talked with them, I was barely able to complete a sentence without losing my breath, and honestly, I think we were beginning to get a little frightened. It did not take long for the COVID doctor to instruct me to go to the hospital right away. I still remember him trying to convince me to go while I was thinking, "Doc, you do not have to say it twice. The car is already running!" It is important to remember that, at this stage of the Pandemic, people were going to the hospital and not coming home again, so I bet many folks were reluctant.

Not me.

Robin and I quickly got ready. I grabbed the important things: glasses, phone, phone charger, and to the hospital we went.

Robin dropped me off, and the hospital staff was ready. I was whisked into a glass room that felt like the kind used in the movies to hold villains and serial killers. They hooked me up to all things, and the doctor and nurse came in to examine me. At this point, I clearly needed oxygen, as my pulse oximeter reading was dropping. After the initial consult with a doctor, from then on out, all communication was done via a phone outside the room.

I must say that the Kaiser people had this COVID thing down. While my body and breath were for $h!t, I felt completely confident in their care.

During this time, they let me know that I would start on Remdesivir, but it was no guarantee. I vaguely remember also having a conversation about my advance directive. My orders say that I do NOT want to be put on a ventilator to prolong my life. The doctors informed/assured me that, should I need to go on a ventilator for COVID, it was not the same. I OK'd the change.

Eventually I was moved into a room in what I think was the COVID floor. By this time, getting out of bed or walking a few steps had me gasping for breath. They put me on high-flow oxygen, and for the next two weeks I had to lie prone. It was as uncomfortable as you can imagine, but every time I tried to flip over, I felt like I was suffocating — so prone it was! A little discomfort over suffocating to death is not a difficult choice to make.

During my stay, I did get worse. I was constantly being poked and prodded, every movement exhausted me, and I could barely sleep. I also remember being alone. No visitors were allowed, and I couldn't hold a conversation on the phone, so I had a lot of time to think too much — all while being prone. I never really lost hope, but I did have plenty of "what if" thoughts, and no scenario ended well." Still, as long as I could text, post, and share, I figured I was heading in the right direction.

While I was there, I remember talking with the nurses about vaccinations. As soon as they found out that I was vaccinated, their body language changed around me. I am sure they took care of everyone, but knowing that so much suffering and use of resources could have been avoided, I bet the number of unvaccinated patients they saw was overwhelming.

Eventually I was released to my home care team (Robin and Vespa). We set up a bed in the living room because I was to be on oxygen for the foreseeable future, and I needed space to set up my veritable apothecary.

After a few more weeks, I was able to leave the house without oxygen 24/7. I was still exhausted all the time and still slept much of the day. I would have frequent headaches and I was on a medication regimen that made me regret failing calculus.

Then the long road of recovery...

• I did eventually build up enough energy to be able to leave the house.
• I returned to Pastor at the church.
• I learned that exercise exacerbated long COVID.
• I tried to get back to what was normal in all things.
• My grandmother died from COVID complications.
• I realized normal was shot to hell in most things.
• I resigned as pastor of the church.
• We moved to San Jose.

... and a new season of life began.

And today I am a different person.

After my COVID experience, much has remained true for me:

• I never had to consider how much I was going to have to pay for my treatment. There was no choice between rent or food, and risking dying from COVID. Seems we always had enough money for war, so we definitely have enough money for universal healthcare.
• Extending dignity is not dependent upon ideology. Today I, as I did then, believe that every human being is worthy of being treated with dignity. We do not have to agree with everyone's beliefs or ignore their actions, but we must not reciprocate the violence that demeans and dehumanizes the other. Even the worst of the people we know or see probably lost loved ones during this time. Grief is grief, loss is loss, and sorrow is sorrow.
• Community is love. I can only imagine what my close friends and family were experiencing during this time. I am sure there were tears of worry shed by many, but folks still held me in prayer and took care of me when I needed it. Special love to Robin, who has had to deal with my hospitalizations more than she should. I cannot imagine what it would have been like to go through all of that alone. Thank you all.

And there are some ways that I know I have changed.

I am glad to be alive and, in all the ways I move through the world, I do so fueled by gratitude for my life-giving breath.

I am chill when it comes to life. This does not mean that I am nonchalant about my responsibilities or do not care about what happens in the world, only that I no longer feed on the adrenaline of stress. So many parts of my gig work (pastoring, writing, hustling) have the potential to disproportionately consume my energy and attention, which in turn takes energy and attention away from other aspects of my life. I refuse to let this happen, so I now hold firm boundaries, prioritize more clearly, and no longer allow myself to get distracted.

Mostly, I stay chill by resisting the insidious call to believe and act like I am indispensable to any of the movements I am part of. This has freed me from the buildup of resentments, the exhaustion of my body, and the burnout of my soul. This liberation from centeredness makes me a better human and community member because I make room to be nourished by the things that give my life meaning: food, family, friendships, writing, activism, and amplifying good people and good organizations.

I am more of a risk-taker. One would think that going through multiple hospitalizations, I would be more cautious and careful. Much to the chagrin of some of my family and friends, nope, just the opposite.

As I enter the final third of my life, I do not want to miss opportunities to do good in the world or grow as a person because I am afraid of what might happen. Don't worry, I have not moved to irresponsibility town. I hope to approach every decision with faithful discernment, but I am equally as hopeful that God may have adventures for me that have yet to be revealed.

The other way I am less risk-averse is that I have the privilege of being so. When I think about friends in Gaza and the rest of Palestine living under occupation and the threat of constant violence, risking police brutality, arrest, or imprisonment is the least I can offer. The same goes for my support of immigrants, LGBTQIA+ siblings, and those being crushed under the boots of greed and wealth. Being public and present is the least I can do. But it is not just the big actions, it is the everyday ones as well: choosing what I preach on any given Sunday, being robust in my online and in-person advocacy, and supporting individuals and organizations with my fiscal and skills resources.

I am committed to my fitness. This may not be as big a deal for some, but being able to say I am dedicated and consistent with my fitness and health is a big deal to me. Truth be told, part of that commitment is fueled by an unapologetic determination to outlive my enemies and the a$$holes of the world. There are things that I can control in my life and things that I can't. There are no guarantees that eating better and exercising will prevent an untimely demise, but we know it helps. After losing nearly 30 pounds and always struggling with weight, today at 57yo, I like how I feel, I like how I look, and have found a discipline that is motivating and meaningful. WTF, I even started running on purpose. Never before in my life have I made my fitness and health a priority and stuck to it over the long haul, but I do now.

I am sure that if you asked my friends, family, and community, they would say there are other ways I have changed, and I hope to never stop. I want to be a better human today than I was yesterday. I do not accomplish that goal every day, but I hope to more days than not.

Thanks to all who hung out with me then, and to those doing the same today, I appreciate you.

Peace,

I offer this weekly #LetUsPray as a way to stay anchored amidst the turmoil of the day. Paid subscribers have access to liturgical resources and sermon prompts based on the week's readings from The Revised Common Lectionary and/or The Narrative Lectionary.

A few weeks ago I talked about that dangerous sentence, "Once x-task is done, things will slow down..." because it rarely does. Welp, it was true. Today I just caught up on all my emails from all the accounts, so the inboxes are down to zero (And no, I do not understand those of you who have hundreds and thousands of unread emails taunting you every day. To each their own.)

Anyhoo, it feels good.

Really wish that after I emerged from my cave, the world was in better shape, but it looks like the same old $h!t, different day. The settlers in Palestine continue to act with brazen impunity and full support from too many; it seems like there have been multiple mass shootings, and yes, we are still snatching people off the street and disappearing them to who knows where.

We must keep at it however and wherever: write, speak, pray, sing, agitate, act.

Next up are a couple of posts in the hopper. One is about restraint being the superpower of leaders of color who serve in predominantly white contexts. I am also starting to think through the How to Grow a Church project. And finally, I have a two-parter about church pastoring, why it is a blessing AND why it is terrible. I am going to link back to these two prompts on FB if you want to add your 4¢.

• Why it is a blessing: I know pastoring a congregation can be difficult and overwhelming, but here's the prompt (to link to a new post)— "It is a blessing, honor, and privilege to be a pastor because..." [link]
• Why it is terrible: As a follow-up to my previous post about why congregational pastoring is a blessing, I'll do a follow-up post and link back to this post, "Pastoring a congregation is [insert your adjective: difficult, overwhelming, soul-sucking] because . . ." [link]

Okay, now on to this week's #LetUsPray when we begin to talk about the how the Spirit reveals God's hopes and intentions for humanity.

Faith Montage: The Story Will Be Revealed #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

As it has been with generations before and will be for generations to come,

God’s story has and will be REVEALED to God’s gathered people.

The story will meander,
— but God’s time is God’s time.

The story will confuse,
— but God will guide us if we choose to follow.

The story will contradict,
— but God’s perfection lies in a willingness to change.

The story will be deemed weak,
— but God reimagines what is powerful.

The story will seem like a distant figure emerging from the mist-worn fog,
but when we see God,
we really see God.

And we will know.

The story will be revealed.

— Amen.

Breath Prayer

Receive (inhale): May I know and believe.
Release (exhale): The story of God.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, September 6, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Exodus 12:1-14 | Psalm 119:33-40 | Romans 13:8-14 | Matthew 18:15-20
NL Summer Readings (First and Second Timothy): Exodus 20:17 (Do Not Covet). Accompanying text: Matthew 22:34-40 (The Great Commandment)

For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary (NL). For Bible translations, I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgical inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink.

Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

I offer this weekly #LetUsPray as a way to stay anchored amidst the turmoil of the day. Paid subscribers have access to liturgical resources and sermon prompts based on the week's readings from The Revised Common Lectionary and/or The Narrative Lectionary.

It's been three weeks since the last #LetUsPray, but as promised, I'm back. This week, we continue working our way through my Faith Montage. We are about 2/3 of the way through and are now in the Spirit section. In this week's reading, the Spirit compels us to go into the world to be bearers and sharers of the Gospel, not as much a command as an invitation to live as if our faith matters.

Faith Montage: Not if We Go, but as We Go #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

It is into the revealing story of God that we are COMPELLED to go.
Where we are called to serve God and others.
Where we are drawn into a deeper relationship with God.
Where we are thrust into the struggles of the world.

It is in God’s revealing story where we grow
into who God intends us to become.

Not if we go, but as we go.

As we go, we seek:
Wisdom. Healing. Growth. Love.

As we go, we are healed:
By others. By ourselves. By surprise. By love.

As we go, we offer back to God:
Our talents. Our resources. Our humanity. Our love.

As we go, we share what and who we know God to be.
Hope. Joy. Peace. Love.

— Amen.

May we all know the Spirit whenever and wherever we need.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 2, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Exodus 3:1-15 | Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c | Romans 12:9-21 | Matthew 16:21-28
NL Summer Readings (First and Second Timothy): Exodus 20:12-16 (Tuned toward the Neighbor) Accompanying text: Matthew 22:34-40 (The Great Commandment)

For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary (NL). For Bible translations, I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgical inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink. Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.