siyam = "nine" in Tagalog

Whoa, it's been a few months since I have checked in with folks. I think it's cute that the original subtitle was, "A weekly . . ." Ha.

This one is not going to be all that long, as I am still climbing out from under a week's vacation worth of emails connected to my current church gig (more later) and I have to turn in the final manuscript (A Lenten Devotional) for the Prophet, Priest. Pastor, & Poet project.

There is way more to catch up on, but here is the executive summary of the highlights. Expanded narratives and photos for Paid Subscribers below.

• Bruce's Beverage: I am currently at the WeWork in Pasadena, and I may be the only person in the building. I am drinking a new favorite, a Milk Brew with Banna Milk. So yummy.
• PPC: I moved to Pasadena in June (after a two-month bridge at Burlingame PC) to become the Transitional Pastor at Pasadena Presbyterian Church. If all goes as planned, and they rarely do, I should be here for about a year.
• PPPP: The first two parts of Prophet, Priest. Pastor, & Poet: Being and Becoming the Risen Christ are now available for pre-order.
• SF -> NYC -> OR -> SF: My spouse and I took a whirlwind trip to NY and OR to visit the babies who moved away.
• IT: As you can see from the picture, I have given in to the dual-screen and external keyboard/mouse setup.
• Sight and Sounds: So many things. I went through another K-Drama era, from which I would recommend Agent Kim Reactivated, Can This Love be Translated, and Resident Playlist. I also started the new seasons of Ted Lasso and Reacher, but highly entertaining. Back to the movies, I LOVED Project Hail Mary and Hadestown, thought The Odyssey was fine, and really enjoyed Spider-Man: Brand New Day. We added another musical to our watched list (when in NY), Maybe Happy Ending, which was so very good. Finally, if you liked the Carl the Dungous Crawler vibe, you may enjoy How to Become the Dark Lord and Die Trying, especially the audio version.

Again, so much more to share, but a sermon is demanding my attention. More sooner than three months from now.

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 week has been a wild one, mostly because my spouse and I are on a week-long, whirlwind, zig-zag, cross-country trek to see two of our kids who had the audacity to move out of state to live their lives :-)

Our New York time has been filled with good food, much laughter, and sweet conversations. The time has been good for my soul, and it has been a serious example of a life of privilege. I have been struck by how easy it has been to simply unplug from the world for these first three days. An example, again, when multiple things can be true at the same time. I don't feel shamed by this reality; rather, I am further convinced and convicted that everyone should have the opportunity and resources to take a break from the pressures of the world . . . to have a vacation that reenergizes and rejuvenates their bodies and souls.

And then on the way home (and why this post didn't get sent out on time) we spent three hours on the LaGuardia tarmac behind 55 other planes, had to return to the gate to refuel, and then got stuck overnight in Denver.

So of course, at 4:00am . . . good times.

Anyhoo . . . in this week's installment of my Faith Montage, I am reminded that the Spirit shows up in so many ways no matter what is happening in life. My time of privileged rest is not for nothing, as the Spirit is active throughout – and has provided much inspration for future Amalagmation relflection on humanity.

This week my liturgical resources focus on that silent place where we meet God, and my sermon prompt is around the Romans passage and the idea of being the "beautiful feet" of God as we engage in conversation, not conversion.

The Spirit's Delicate Dance Between Creator and Created #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

The STORIED revealing of God’s hopes and intentions
is intricately woven in and through our interactions with God—
a delicate conversation between Creator and created.

The Spirit moves through prayer:
Not a checklist but a conversation.
Not performance but release.
Not to control but to relinquish.
Not to manipulate but to listen.
Not with words but also with words.

The Spirit moves through community:
Not to demand but to discern.
Not to fix but to encourage.
Not to confine but to compel.
Not to detach but to engage.
Not to seek perfection but to love perfectly.

The Spirit moves through the Bible:
Not an indifferent collection but an anthology of human experience.
Not a contract to be enforced but a covenant to be honored.
Not a map to be followed but an adventure to be embraced.
Not a literal set of rules but evolving truths to be revealed.
Not a weapon of faith but a wellspring of liberation.

The Spirit moves in the in-between:
Not always knowing where but trusting God is present.
Not always knowing how but trusting God is active.
Not always knowing when but trusting God is near.
Not always knowing why but trusting God is faithful.
Not always knowing but trusting that God is.

Through these windows
we meet ourselves,
we meet others,
our understanding of God is expanded,
the movements of God are made real,
and the revealed and revealing story of God is made known.

— Amen.

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

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 2, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): I Kings 19:1-15 | Psalm 105:1-6, 16-22, 45 | Romans 10:5-15 | Matthew 14:22-33
NL Summer Readings (First and Second Timothy): 2 Timothy 3:14—4:8, 16-18 (The Lord Stood by Me) Accompanying text: Luke 18:6-8

In writing liturgy, I attempt to be economical with words while addressing the events of the day in ways that help people find grounding in their faith. 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 liturgy 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.

First, how is it August already?

Second, I hate that there have been more shootings in the news and lawmakers are not even pretending to want to do anything about it. It's as if US society has resigned itself to a future filled with guns.

We must not go numb to or normalize gun violence as if there are no other options. We must not give up. We must not only keep pressing our legislators to have the courage to tackle the gun violence health crisis, but we must also teach and model ways to deal with anger and address conflict without resorting to violence of any kind, body, mind, or spirit.

And all the while, for our own grounding and for the Spirit who surrounds us, we must pray. I have been sharing prayers about gun violence, but if you need a prayer for your community, here is a litany, Another Shooting in America or purchase a copy of A Prayerbook Concerning Gun Violence and use promo code “BRC” for 20% off.

Seems appropriate that we move into the Spirit section on my faith montage, as it is always good to remember that the Spirit of God is always moving and always active – even in the midst of tragedy and heartbreak.

The Sweeping and Unwavering Spirit #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

The Spirit of God repeatedly sweeps over humanity leaving us inspired:
to seek God’s hopes for each of us,
to live into God’s intentions for the entire body,
and to answer the call to participate in the fulfillment of
God’s ever-revealing hopes for the world.

The Spirit invites us into relationship and conversations with God.
The Spirit encourages the quest and reveals God in the act of questioning.
The Spirit pokes and prods us to be open and aware that God is with us.
The Spirit revives, refreshes, and reminds us that God will help bear the weight of our weariness.
The Spirit is unwavering in the belief that we have the capacity to know God more.

The Spirit moves around us.
The Spirit moves through us.
The Spirit moves in spite of us.
And when we are open, the Spirit moves us.

— Amen.

May we all know healing.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 2, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Genesis 32:22–31 | Psalm 17:1–7, 15 | Romans 9:1–5 | Matthew 14:13–21
NL Summer Readings (First and Second Timothy): 2 Timothy 2:8-15 (Remember Jesus Christ, Raised from the Dead) Accompanying text: Luke 17:16-19

In writing liturgy, I attempt to be economical with words while addressing the events of the day in ways that help people find grounding in their faith. 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 liturgy inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink. Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

This past weekend, I had the chance to see Mexodus, playing at the Pasadena Playhouse through August 2, 2026. Walking in, I had zero idea what expect. I had never seen anything at The Pasadena Playhouse, but I am trying to get to know my new city while I'm here, I figured I would catch a performance.

Overall it was a ton of fun. I was a little sleepy going because of preaching that morning and the fact that it was a million degrees outside. When those houselights dimmed, I though, "Uh oh, I'm in trouble." Unlike the guy sitting next to me, I did not doze off and as the production progressed, my attention energy grew.

Without spoiling anything, Mexodus is a two-person musical, that tells the story of the underground railroad that goes across "the border" into Mexico and the interaction between a Mexican farmer and an enslaved person on the run. The unique thing about this musical is that the two performers create most of the music by recording sounds and instruments and then looping them into the backing music for all of the songs. Nygel D. Robinson and Alan Mendez were impressive.

If you are in within driving distance to Pasadena, this production is well worth supporting. My review of this musical pretty much consists of "Go see it!" so rather than offer any star rating or critical review, allow me to share a few thoughts that Mexodus sparked within me.

One more piece of history...

As far as the story goes, I was not surprised by the narrative. Of course there was and underground railroad that ran from Texas to Mexico. But because, like so many stories from the ancestors of this land that get buried in the mythic story of the formation of United State, I had never actually heard about it. I am so very appreciative of shows that broaden my understanding and knowledge of the world and Mexodus does just that. It gives "Larry, The Musical" vibes in that it exposes a wider demographic to a story that some already knew, not from the classroom, but from the many other ways stories are pass down from generation to generation. Yet one more time, because people were determined to tell a story that needed to me told, my understanding and knowledge of the world and those around me has grown.

A subtle nod to faith and liberation.

I was fascinated by some of Christian and Church references made by the performers before and after. With the backdrop of blatant trafficking and proliferation of Christian Nationalism in this United States, it was lovely to hear someone mention faith in a genuine way that acknowledged the reality that faith has been and is a part of all stories of liberation. Not sure if this was scripted banter, so I will not spoil what is actually said, only that I appreciated the sublet, yet powerful message that was offer to the audience to hold. I can only hope that is brought some nuance to people's understanding and impact of faith.

Applause turned into action.

Because this was a story about people of color, my guess is that there were more Black and brown folks present than usual. After living in Pasadena cumulatively for only six months over the past few years, I am not local, but when I arrived, I was not surprised by how white the crowd was.

Pasadena in many ways reminds me of Palo Alto, where I lived from 2019-2022. It has a provincial vibe going on, with the divisions between those from old Pasadena and the influx of housing that is bringing in young urbanites. My guess is that it is a generally "progressive" space. Not sure if is Biden, Warren, Sanders, or AOC leaning, but I am willing to guess that is it not Mamdani left. I would love to be proven wrong about that, but not holding my breath.

Mexodus is clearly a story that speaks to the oppression and violence inflicted upon Black and brown bodies, mostly by the United States. At times this was communicated with subtly and nuance, and other times there was almost a challenge to the white audience to remain comfortable in the face of such indictments laid at the feet of white America. There was one song in particular that probably made some folks squirm, but before the final note stopped ringing, the place erupted with applause. Obviously it was well deserved, but when white folks cheer with such gusto a direct challenge to origin and accumulation of wealth and power I am always left with the questions, "Do you know what this means?"

While I would love to give the benefit of the doubt that after being moved by such themes, people of privilege will then make choices that dismantle the cultural, institutional, and personal apparatuses through which that privilege was attained, but I have my doubts.

• Will people of means vote centered on their financial best interests or in ways that keep people trapped in poverty?
• Will people of security leverage and risk their power and influence so those who are oppressed do not have to risk their lives?
• Will people of comfort listen to the discomfort and resist falling into unhealthy patterns of racialized aggression, institutional barriers, and cultural exclusion directed at Black brown folks?

Essentially will the applause and affirmation offered to the performers indicate a substantially changed way of life — or is the bold and loud affirmation performative, self-soothing, and only expressed within the confines of the theater walls?

I hope people continue to create these types of offering for the world. We all need to see the fuller picture of the world's histories and hear stories that have long been silenced. Most important to me though is that the telling of these powerful and painful stories from the past, manifest themselves into the stories of love and liberation being built for today and the future.

I have no idea where the Mexodus production is headed next, but from the post-show comments it sounds like more performers are being added to the number of folks who could pull this off. If you are not able to catch it at the Pasadena Playhouse, hopefully, you'll have a chance to experience the power that is Mexodus at a venue near you.

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 feels like EVERY day we can say something to the effect, "When we look at the world, it seems like there is another round of violence, suffering, and hurt being experienced by God's people."

I hate that this has been normalized. It makes me angry, sad, and sometimes severely pessimistic about the future. And then something happens to remind me that, yes, there is too much pain in the world, but there is also healing. Does it come about when or how I want it to? Rarely, but healing is present.

This next section of My Faith montage follows the acknowledging of hurt. Even though we may cause much of the pain in the world, we are also part of the healing.

The Hurt Who Are Healed #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

And yet we know what it is to be HEALED.
To be healed is to be whole.
To move toward healing is to move toward holiness.
In mind. In body. In gut.
In heart. In spirit. In soul.

You cannot be healed if I am still hurting.
I cannot know wholeness if you are still in agony.
We cannot experience either while neighbors and strangers suffer still.

My wholeness is intricately and intrinsically woven
together with yours and yours with mine.
Healing is mine is yours is ours.
Wholeness is ours is yours is mine.

Yet we cannot know healing and wholeness
without the One who loves us into being.
God loves healing into the world.
In whispers. In whimsy. In wonder.
In exhale. In excitement. In euphoria.
In solitude. In silence. In subtlety.

Our bodies, minds, and souls are healed by God.
Healed in ways creative, soothing, beautiful, and bold.
Healed in ways surprising, subtle, unruly, and old.
Through boisterous laughter uncontained,
and anger righteously expressed,
through sounds that soothe and silence that settles,
through communities organized and justice realized,
through intimacy, generosity, understanding, and rest,
through equity, jubilance, remembrance, and risk,
through lament and confession,
through forgiving and being forgiven,
through grace offered and grace accepted,
through being seen, being heard, being known.

In all of these things,
in God’s good time,
in unexpected ways,
God’s healing and wholeness is a mighty balm
for our bone-tired bodies,
for our compassion-fatigued hearts,
and for our weary, weary souls.

— Amen.

May we all know healing.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

17th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 26, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): 1Kings 3:5-12 | Psalm 119: 129-136 | Romans 8:26-39 | Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52
NL Summer Readings (First and Second Timothy): 2 Timothy 1:1-14 (Rekindle the Gift of God) Accompanying text: Luke 17:5-6

In writing liturgy, I attempt to be economical with words while addressing the events of the day in ways that help people find grounding in their faith. 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 liturgy inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink. Paid Subscribers may use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

You're invited to be part of my next book adventure.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I said I was not going to jump back into another book project. We all knew that my pants were on fire. While I did mean it at the time, that was mostly an embattled author in the middle of editing talk. During that time, however, I was able to tend to any distraction that would help to protect my tender ego from the bloodbath of the editor's red marks on my manuscript. And yes, one of those distractions was to think about my next book.

Not long ago, I was asked to speak to a group about anything I wanted to. For some reason, I gravitated towards thoughts about church growth. Okay, not for "some reason." The reason was because of the increasingly blatant displays of Christian Nationalism by our government. Because people usually want to start with tactics, I did what I normally do: I began with 30,000-foot concepts. As I have continued to think about the big questions, I have begun to feel a tug to choose your metaphor: land the plane, fish or cut bait, or shit or get off the pot, and identify actionable steps born from these larger questions. Drawing on my 30+ years of pastoral leadership, my time starting a church, coaching pastors who have started churches, worshipping with new churches, and pastoring multiple established churches through a variety of cultural and operational transitions, I began compiling a list of practical church growth questions.

In all honesty, I have always been allergic to anything that came close to being a "10 Ways to Put Butts in Pews" handbook. Too often, I have heard members of shrinking churches or church growth couch consultants imply that there is a cause-and-effect relationship between tactics and growth. It is completely understandable that people want that kind of reassurance because it would be real nice if we were given a list of to-dos that would guarantee growth – painlessly and immediately. Obviously, few people say, 'If you make these changes, you will grow!' out loud, but I can tell, whether they are even conscious of it or not, that's what they want. Occasionally someone would verbalize it, often tongue-in-cheek, and my tried-and-true response is to joke, "If I could write that book, I'd be rich."

And then during a conversation about the state of the church and the need to have more impact, while I was dancing around giving practical advice, one of the participants said, "We know you have ideas for things that we could do, so why don't you tell us?" This was not accusatorial, but what it made me realize is that what I have been basically saying to groups is, "Here are some big concepts for doing something really different, now go and figure it out for yourselves. You're on your own. Good luck and godspeed." In my resistance to giving anything remotely close to definitive steps for growth, I was expecting the proverbial frog to all of a sudden realize the pot is boiling AND know exactly how to escape the predicament it was in.

As much as I have resisted, I am going to take a swing at writing the closest thing to a "handbook for church growth" that I will ever get. I am also going to go about this process a little differently. Like my friend and colleague Rev. Dr. Grace Ji-Sun Kim, I am going to have the manuscript completed before I shop it around: no publisher advance, no deadlines, and no guarantees.

As I write this book, I would love for folks to interact and give feedback during various stages of the process. Every few weeks, I will post a rough, rough, rough outline/draft of each chapter. Paid Subscribers will have immediate access to the full chapters. All other subscribers will receive a short excerpt in their inboxes. Subscribers, free or paid, are invited to give feedback, ask questions,or make suggestions over on The Amalgamation Discord. Everyone who engages in at least half of the chapter threads will receive a signed copy of the book when it is eventually published.

Below is an early and first run at a structure and outline for the book. It is pretty standard: some introduction and orientation to start and a wrap-up and conclusion at the end. In between, I'll post a number of questions (Eventually 20?) that address areas with a high impact on a church's chances of growing.

With each question, I will attempt to bring depth and texture by addressing importance, obstacles, practices, etc. Each question will be broken up into the following sections:

🧠 The Reason for Asking – Explanation of the question's relevance goes here.👍🏽 So You Said, "yes" – What it means if you are doing this goes here.
❓ A Deeper Dive – Follow-up questions to broaden the topic.
🛬 Tactics and Practices – A few ideas on how you can realistically address each reponse.
💡 One Big Idea: A potentially high-impact idea goes here.
🚦Signals & Cues: Signs and development that may require processes to be adapted or further conversations to be had.
💖 Grace Always: Words of encouragement and courage go here.

I am still debating the order of the questions, but for now, the progression goes like this: broad congregational understandings, scope of who can be reached, and congregational engagement. I bookend all the questions, starting with one about change and ending with one about the budget; for without a healthy approach to both, the endeavor will face an uphill battle.

Again, if you are a subscriber, come on over to Discord and join the conversation. These are early stages, so resist getting caught up in a web of wordsmith turmoil. There will be time for that later. At this point, all headings and subheadings can be changed. As the book builds, I'll link back to each post.

How to Grow a Church:

Questions that help recognize, realize, and reinforce invitation, welcome, and belonging.

Introduction [full post]

• Why and Why Now [full post]
• How I believe and know [full post]
• Who should read this [full post]

Ch 1) The Most Important Question: on Belonging [full post]

Ch 2) Who Cares about Growth: on Theology [full post]

Ch 3) Size Really Doesn’t Matter: on Numbers [full post]

Ch 4) Disclaimers and Assumptions: on Context [full post]

Ch 5) How to Use This Book: on Process [full post]

Ch 6) The Questions [full post]

• Culture of Change: Do you handle criticism, change, and conflict well? [full post]
• Who do you say that I am?: Do you clearly and unapologetically articulate what you believe about Jesus Christ? [full post]
• Congregational Identity: Do you know who you are now and who God is calling you to become? [full post]
• Theological and Social Beliefs: Are your values and beliefs integrated throughout the entire life of the church? [full post]
• Realistic Growth Demographic: Is God really calling you to reach young families? [full post]
• A Heart for Newcomers: Have you identified unspoken rules, practices, or expectations that exclude first-time visitors? [full post]
• A Place of Comfort: Is this a place where people turn to in times of crisis or tragedy? [full post]
• Can’t Miss Experiences: Do people feel they're missing out if they don't show up? [full post]
• A Growing Table: Is a new person easily able to engage in the life of the church? [full post]]
• Genuine Digital Ministry: Is your digital footprint honest and helpful to those searching for a spiritual home? [full post]
• Meaningful Use of Time: Do you honor the time and resources individuals offer? [full post]
• Community Connections: Are you engaged in the life of the surrounding community? [full post]
• Public Square: Are you engaged in the public square on issues that impact communities outside the church: locally, nationally, and globally? [full post]
• Show Me the Money: Are you ready and willing to realign your budget to center growth and newcomers? [full post]

Ch 7) The Big Three: On Friends, Flocks, and Fun [full post]

Ch 8) As You Go: On Evangelism & Confidence [full post]

Ch 9) Return on Investment: On Patience & Grace [full post]

Ch 10) People May Leave: On Care & Conviction [full post]

Ch 11) Enjoy the Ride: On Hope & Meaning [full post]

Conclusion [full post]

Charge

Acknowlegements

Artificial Intelligence

Keep in Touch

Again, this post is open to everyone, but future updates will only be available to Paid Subscribers. At the end of the day, Paid Subscribers are my "advance," so I appreciate everyone who is supporting this area of my life

Peace,

As many of you know, I am currently serving on the board of directors of Interfaith Movement for Human Integrity (IM4HI). One of the reasons I am committed to the work of this faith-based group is that what we do aligns with what we believe and what we say. As ICE activity has become more and more violent, in addition to our public actions, we have shared A Prayer for the Ceasing of State Violence and the Protection of All People and a public statement during the Minnesota crackdown. Yet ICE continues to act with an impunity that has led to more trauma, more separation, and more death. In light of recent killings, we have released another statement. Please share this statement, follow IM4HI on Instagram and subscribe to our newsletter.

Peace,

Statement on the Deaths of Johan Sebastian Guerrero, Lorenzo Salgado Araujo, and the Many Other Lives Lost at the Hands of ICE 

We are heartbroken and deeply saddened by the unjust killings of Johan Sebastian Guerrero, 26, who was fatally shot by ICE in Maine July 13th,  and Lorenzo Salgado Araujo, 52,  who was shot in Texas on July 7, 2026. 

Our heartfelt condolences go out to the family, friends, and communities of Johan Sebastian Guerrero and Lorenzo Salgado Araujo as they navigate these devastating losses. Guerrero was a hardworking and devoted father of a 3-year-old daughter, and Salgado was a loving husband, father of 3, and a valuable member of his community.

Unlike the ICE killings of Alex Pretti and Renee Good, the video footage of Araujo’s death has not been released and has not received the same public attention or media coverage.

We uplift the demands from the families and leaders in Houston and Maine and urge you to contact your Member of Congress. They are calling for:

• A full and independent investigation into Lorenzo’s and Johan’s killing.
  [Take Action] 
• The immediate release of the three men detained with Lorenzo, including his brother, and protection for all witnesses from intimidation, coercion, or deportation. 
• An end to local collaboration with ICE in EVERY city and state they occupy.

Our faith traditions say, Do not kill and take the life of another. Our faiths cherish peace, calling us to resist the empire and care for the vulnerable. Across our faith traditions, we share a common moral vision: Every human is sacred and deserves to be treated with dignity, compassion, and respect. Every family should not have to live in trauma stemming from needless and preventable violence. We are called to support one another, grieve together, and resist systems that devalue human life. No family should have to face such a tragedy.  We believe that community and moral courage are more powerful than fear.  We reject the normalization of war, state violence, surveillance, deportation, and detention as tools of social control — in our neighborhoods, at our borders, and across the world.

Since the beginning of Trump’s 2nd term, there have been at least 21 shootings, 10 of them fatal. This horrific moment recalls a very similar incident on April 7 of this year, in the Central Valley of California, when ICE officers shot Carlos Ivan Mendoza, a member of the Modesto community, leaving him critically injured with seven bullets lodged in his body.  Today Carlos is being imprisoned in California City, facing federal charges, with three bullets still remaining in his body.  Last week, a team of IM4HI volunteers were able to visit Carlos in the CoreCivic detention center across a glass window pane, since contact visits are prohibited at the California City facility.     

Despite this layer of separation, volunteers were touched by his deep warmth, kindness and sense of faith, even while suffering excruciating pain due to the facility’s widespread medical neglect. Carlos had heard about Lorenzo Salgado’s killing from inside California City that same day. He shared his belief that God granted him the opportunity to live so he could be a witness to the injustice of detention and work to make the world better by helping others facing criminalization.

As we stand with Houstonians fighting for justice for Lorenzo and community members in Maine outraged by the latest shooting, join us here in California in supporting Carlos as he continues to be persecuted and prosecuted by the federal government.  Please join us at his next federal court hearing in Sacramento, July 27th, at 9:00 am to support him and his family.  To get more information about this court hearing, join the Faith Signal group to support Carlos.  

We commit to leading with love, hope, and community, and must not allow indiscriminate ICE killings and detentions to continue. The IM4HI staff, board and community refuses to look away, to accept excuses, or to sanitize our language. ICE and Border Patrol are fascist, para-military forces committing acts of harm and evil in our country. 

Please collectively pray. We pass along this Litany of Confession for Araujo, written by Texas pastor Rev. Dan de Leon, which we’ve placed here. 

We acknowledge, honor and pray for the many others who have lost their lives due to ICE and Police violence: Alex Jeffrey Pretti, Renee Nicole Good, Keith Porter Jr., Silverio Villegas-Gonzalez, Ruben Ray Martinez, Eric Gardner, George Floyd, Trayvon Martin, Breonna Taylor. 

We remember their lives, pay tribute to their families, and stand in solidarity with the communities as they bear the burden of these losses. May their lives not be forgotten. This vicious cycle of violence must come to an end and we say, “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!”

The IM4HI staff, board, and community urge the following demands: 

• Defund ICE: We demand accountability and transparency for their deaths and urge ICE agents and officials to stop participating in the persecution of our communities. We call on our elected leaders to act with compassion, courage and urgency.
• Invest in Community Care: True safety does not come from intimidation or force—it comes from communities that look after one another and practice mutual care. 
• Show up in solidarity with one another: Vigils, gatherings and collective witness affirm to those most impacted that their lives matter and their experiences are seen.  Visibility breaks through the normalization of state violence to raise awareness about the human cost of immigration enforcement. 

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 have seen more violence and brutality across my socials. While I am grateful I have not become completely numb and these scenes still shock me, sometimes I simply want to look away. The thing is, some people do not have the privilege to look away because the pain and suffering are being inflicted upon them. This part of the Faith Montage both names the hurt that many experience as well as the hurt we may inflict upon others.

If we are going to live lives of healing, we must not look away.

The Gathered Who Are Hurting #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

But these called, sacred, gathered bodies are HURTING.
From ancestors and saints past to misfits and strangers of today,
we live in a world that feeds on destruction, rewards hatred, reinforces oppression, dismisses grief, denies accountability, and manipulates vulnerability
—and often in the name of God.

We have lost our way.
We have turned and been turned away from
God’s intentions and hopes for humanity.
We have brought pain upon my body, your body, our bodies.
Born from anger, disappointment, and mourning,

As we desecrate the earth,
God weeps.
As we equate light as good and dark as bad,
God weeps.
As we pursue profit and perpetuate poverty,
God weeps.
As we criminalize suffering and incarcerate siblings to invisibility,
God weeps.
As we fortify empire and exploit humanity,
God weeps.
As we legislate bodies and deny human agency,
God weeps.
As we mock emotions and renounce empathy,
God weeps.
As we choose individualism and abandon the common good,
God weeps.
As we worship “normal” and demonize difference,
God weeps.
As we benefit from unjust systems and justify their existence,
God weeps.
As we deny privilege and default to indifference,
God weeps.
As we choose apathy and forsake the body politic,
God weeps.
As we profit from disparity and blame others for their desperation,
God weeps.
As we deny the sins of our past and reinforce institutions of oppression,
God weeps.

And as we embolden violence upon bodies
who bear darker skin,
who go unheard,
who believe differently,
who love who they love,
who are deemed weak,
who are silenced,
who are unarmed,
who are not in control,
who broaden gender,
who are gifted to our care,
who are the “enemy,”
who are different,
God weeps.

We resist and refuse to lament and confess
to that which holds us back from fully knowing God.
Born again and again from anger, disappointment, and mourning, God weeps.
And yet . . .

— Amen.

May we sit with the hurt.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 19, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67 | Psalm 45:10-17 | Romans 8:12-25 | Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
NL Summer Readings (First and Second Timothy): 1 Timothy 6:6-19 (Take Hold of Eternal Life) Accompanying text: Luke 16:27-30

In writing liturgy, I attempt to be economical with words while addressing the events of the day in ways that help people find grounding in their faith. For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary from The Working Preacher (NL). For Bible translations I turn to The Common English Bible (CEB) or New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVUE). For more liturgy inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink. Paid Subscribers should please feel free to use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

Over the past year and prior to my current Transitional Pastorate, I have been a candidate for a couple of congregational pastoral positions. While I may still entertain particular full-time, permanent situations*, I am pretty sure that I am done with full-time congregational ministry. Even so, I suspect that in my ongoing life as a Bridge, Transitional, and Interim Pastor, there are many more interviews ahead.

Before I go much further, three things are important to name.

• Denominational Context: I realize that every denomination has its own call process. I come out of a Presbyterian governance system where ordained ministers of word and sacrament are basically free agents. If in good standing, we can apply for any pastoral position, congregational or otherwise. If we see an opening that we are interested in, we submit our PDP (Person Discernment Profile, AKA a resume) and hope to advance to the interview stage of the process. Unlike some traditions, there is no appointment process or guaranteed placement. Every process has its pros and cons, but the Presbyterian one is the one I know.
• Theology & Ideology: Defining theological or ideological perspectives can be tricky, but I consider myself part of the Christian "left" – think More Light Presbyterians, Presbyterian Peace Fellowship, Interfaith Movement for Human Integrity, and Sabeel Ecumenical Liberation Theology Center left. Needing to know about a congregation's theological and ideological perspective is driven by a congregation's willingness to explore the edges of faith and by my willingness to serve in opposition to a community's beliefs.
• Privilege & Access: Finally, because I am a man with 30+ years of pastoral experience as well as my age, gender, and public exposure, I may get eyeballs that may not be directed at other folks. That said, I am also a person of color, which creates some privilege dissonance, but that's for another post.

Okay, back to the interviews.

In these interviews, there is often time at the end to ask the interviewers questions. The type of question one asks should depend greatly on the stage of the process, but I have always found that time to be less than adequate or fulfilling. As much as I may want the position, this process is ultimately about discerning a mutual call. This process can be stressful for anyone being interviewed, but we must not allow our anxieties or desperation to shortchange our inquiry process. Churches and pastoral candidates have different life circumstances, but leaving important questions unanswered can lead to bad matches, unclear expectations, and harm to both the pastor and the congregation. Pastors, we are interviewing the congregation as much as they are interviewing us. These processes are meant to land in a place where we can offer our energy, care, imagination, love, and service to one another, so the privilege and burden of doing so must be held with genuine mutuality. Ministry is shared, so we must do everything we can to land in places where this reality has the greatest opportunity to be realized.

As I have been thinking more about a couple of future opportunities, I revisited a post that I wrote 14 years ago *yikes* when I was blogging for Patheos, 25 Questions to Ask a Pastor Search Committee (Day1.org 2025 update). Looking at it through 2026 eyes, it is not a bad list, but it's long. And since there is rarely enough time to get to everything during the search process, I narrowed it down to the 10 questions I will be asking any future search committee.

I will ask these questions not as a litmus test but to measure the degree of alignment and/or disconnect. Of course, I have ideal responses, but I will need to be careful not to confuse "ideal" with "absolute." After all, almost every question's response could begin with the caveat, "Well, it depends . . ." What I will be listening for is how they describe their current situation, how the congregation has thought about these things (or not), and how they have responded. I will also be attuned to whether responses are aspiration or actual. For instance, it is great to hope one day to be publicly and unapologetically LGBTQIA+ affirming, but quite another thing to not be that now. The current state of play should help determine the level of mutuality in the call. Lastly, I will remember to listen for creative responses that could help me grow in my own thinking and theology.

In order to give the call the best chance for success, these are questions I plan to ask at some point during any future process, temporary or permanent:

Dear Search Committee,

Thank you for the opportunity contiue our coversation about Awesome Presbyterian Church. As we are both discerning if there is a mutual call here, at some point I would hear the committee's response to any or all of these questions.

Please let me know if there is anything you would likeme to think about or prepare before our time. If not, see you all on Friday.

Peace,
Bruce

How a search committee even responds to this type of ask could reveal much in itself. And on to the questions.

10 Questions I'll Be Asking the Pastor Search Committee

• How do people experience belonging here? Listening for all of the ways the community may express and experience community.
• What did the COVID-19 Pandemic reveal about the congregation, and how has it responded to those revelations? Listening for what a community determined was important to hold on to, how they adapted during the pandemic, and what they did upon their return to "normalcy."

I promise it is not a gesture of false-humility to say I am shocked that my body, mind, spirit, and ego have made it through another book-writing process in one piece.

Yes, the writing part makes up a bulk of the mental and spiritual heavy lifting, but I find the post-manuscript even more grueling. I do think I have a pretty tough skin and know that editors are there to make the book stronger, but I have to take a running start before I am brave enough to open up that first draft of edits. Every time it is a bloodbath of red edits. We're talking hundreds and hundreds of corrections, suggestions, and comments like, "I'm not sure what you are trying to say here."

Having been through this a few times now, I am sure I require more editing than your average bear. I tend to write like I talk, which is the vibe of my writing, but does not always communicate what I am trying to say. From the amount of word salad my editors are forced to decipher, it has also become painfully evident that my brain moves much faster than my fingers. It is not hyperbole to say that editors are the real heroes of the book-writing process. They should get hazard pay for what their brains must go through on any of my projects.

After multiple rounds of editing, Prophets, Priests, Pastors, and Poets: Being and Becoming the Resurrected Christ is finished — Subject: Final Edit [SEND].

With a big sigh of relief, the schilling can now begin. With the final edits submitted, the official 30% off, pre-order link is live on www.chalicepress.com, and you are invited to pre-order two or ten copies for yourself, your book group, for a church read, or to secretly mail to your favorite Christian Nationalist (joking, not joking).

From the description –

Who is Jesus—and who is Jesus calling us to be? In Prophets, Priests, Pastors, and Poets: Being and Becoming the Resurrected Christ, explore the fullness of Jesus’ identity and how it challenges us to reflect His life in our own. Too often, we reduce Jesus to the traits we find easiest to follow while neglecting His full call. This transformative book unpacks the four-fold nature of Jesus as prophet, priest, pastor, and poet, inviting readers to view Jesus’ ministry through difference lenses and to see a broader, richer faith. Through action, reflection, and storytelling, this accessible resource equips individuals and communities to navigate life with deeper purpose and imagination—building bridges, inspiring change, and encountering God in expansive ways.

For those considering using PPPP for a book group or church read, let me know. If you would like me to remotely join your group for an hour, let's arrange a time. Email The Team to set up a time.

From the Introduction

Who do people say that I am?—Mark 6:27 

We begin this particular Jesus journey with a screaming toddler on a cold Christmas Eve night. It was the late ’90s, and we had been trucking it from the Christmas Eve service that I led as the pastor of a local congregation to our family gathering. Every year, the rest of the family had to wait for my mom (also a Presbyterian minister) and me to finish our services before the feasting could begin. We were all getting a little tired and cranky. During this particular service, Jesus stickers were handed out to the kids as a way for them to remember that Jesus was with them, with us, and with the world. When we left service, Jesus was firmly in Ev’s hand, but by the time we arrived, Ev had fallen asleep and released their grip, allowing Jesus to disappear into the wilderness of a minivan abyss of goldfish crackers, single socks, and mysterious substances. When we pulled up to the driveway of my mom’s place and Ev woke up, we were greeted with the type of scream that only comes from an abruptly awakened hungry toddler. 

“I lost Jesus!” was all we heard over and over and over again. “I lost Jesus! I lost Jesus! I lost Jesus!” 

Being the loving, straitlaced, pious church parents that we were, we could only giggle to ourselves as we tried to comfort our child, who was so clearly distressed about losing Jesus. Seriously, we could barely hold in our outright laughter while trying to console our screaming child. And, miracles of miracles, Jesus somehow showed up, and Ev triumphantly declared, “I found him. I found Jesus!” 

Whew. Crisis of faith averted. 

This is where we begin with Jesus. Make no mistake, I take Jesus very seriously. And at the same time, I do not take us humans too seriously in our pursuit of understanding this divine human we call the Christ. We are complex people deserving of all the reactions when it comes to how we have approached Jesus: compassion, encouragement, gratitude, patience, and yes, even sometimes a little playful mockery. 

Thanks again for all of the support and for helping to fill in the cracks in between all of these projects. I am deeply grateful.

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.

We close out the "gathered" section of my Faith Montage with the part speaks of the spaces in which we come togtether.

The Expansiveness of Gathering #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

We gather in forms and functions
as expansive as creation is itself,

by affiliation, association, denomination, and affinity,
in living rooms, kitchens, coffee shops, corners,
country churches, town-square sanctuaries, grand cathedrals,
amid blaring speakers, bright lights, sacred windows, shiny screens,
pipes floor to ceiling, folding chairs, dripping candles,
well-worn pews, and worn-out carpet,
with cymbals, bells, lyres, guitars, organs, drums,
soundtracks, and turntables.

Basking in the sounds of invitation.
Held in welcomed silence.
God gathers us still.

— Amen.

However or wherever you find yourself gathered with community this day, may you experience belonging, justice, and love.

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

13th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 12, 2026

The Day's Readings (Year A): Genesis 25:19-34 and Psalm 119:105-112 | Isaiah 55:10-13 and Psalm 65:(1-8), 9-13 | Romans 8:1-11 | Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23
NL Summer Readins (First and Second Timothy): 1 Timothy 1:12-17 (Have Confidence in the Gospel) Accompanying text: Luke 15:4-7

In writing liturgy, I attempt to be economical with words while addressing the events of the day in ways that help people find grounding in their faith. For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary from The Working Preacher (NL). For more liturgy inspiration, check out enfleshed or liturgylink . Paid Subscribers should please feel free to use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

One of the things that brings my heart joy, makes my soul sing, and gives me hope for the world is when friends do amazing things. Yes, all of my friends are amazing humans, but the path to doing these things out loud and being recognized for their amazingness is not the same for everyone, especially in predominantly white institutions like the Presbyterian Church (USA). Yes, my denomination has made wonderful strides in many areas of the past decade and has many Black and brown folks in leadership, but no one should underestimate the work, perseverance, and community that it takes for folks of color to be seen as equals.

So when Laura was called as the Transitional Executive Presbyter at the Presbytery of San Francisco, the community rejoiced. For those of us who have been around a while, we know that the search processes to which we are often invited often do not lead to the offer. One has to be exceptional. San Francisco, the Presbytery where I have spent the bulk of my ministry, is no joke, but with great activism, passion, and personalities come great chaos. From all accounts, Laura has been a healing and healthy leader for a presbytery community in turmoil more often than not.

One of the ways I have been moved by Laura is through the words she shares with the communities she leads. I have rarely been able to hear her preach, but when I have, I have been stunned by how she applies the craft. She somehow manages to powerfully challenge our soul and lovingly poke us in the eye, and all the while finding ways to draw us in, make us laugh, and speak to what we need to hear at that particular moment in time. I consider very few folks in my immediate world excellent preachers – Laura is one of them.

Last week, word of the banger of a sermon Laura delivered at a recent event started showing up in my socials, chats, and channels. Not being there, I only got bits and pieces from the online community and the PC(USA) News Service, so I asked if she was willing to share it.

With permission, here is the sermon text my colleague, friend, and sibling in Christ, Rev. Laura Mariko Cheifetz delivered at the closing worship of the 227th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA) on July 2, 2026, in Milwaukee, WI.

Here is a video recording of Laura's sermon moment. This is the kind of sermon that we should all play on the same Sunday. If you would like to view the worship service in its entirety, it is shared at the bottom of this post, just after her bio.

Scripture - Isaiah 58:6-12 (NRSVUE)

I bring you greetings from the Presbytery of San Francisco, land of the Ohlone people who were its first stewards, Alta California before the United States took it from Mexico. We are 67 congregations and 15 new worshiping communities strong. We are the collision of the sacred and the suffering, the brutal and the beautiful, and we do our ministry in English, Spanish, Korean, Cantonese, Mandarin, Portuguese, Tagalog. We do our ministry in jeans and robes, hanbok and haori, guayabera and drag. We are yours, and you are ours, siblings in Christ. It is our privilege to be in this together with you. 

Let us pray.

Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our Rock and Redeemer. Amen.

I am here to preach about healing, picking up on the thread explored so beautifully earlier this week on leaves of the tree for the healing of the nations. 

The audacity to believe that we, here, in a mainline Protestant denomination, could be agents of healing, when we helped make this country exactly what it is becoming, the original Christian nationalists, perpetrator of the heresy of believing God gave us the right to own other human beings for profit, of the shameful sin of believing we deserved this land and the original stewards should be pushed aside and contained or eliminated. 

I shouldn’t be up here. Not only because I never took a preaching class in seminary…

But because I am not the story this nation is officially celebrating on July 4th on its 250th birthday. I am a queer biracial woman, the daughter of the first in their family to marry outside the race, in a same-gender marriage, descended from people who made their way from Japan and eastern Europe, of Ashkenazi Jewish descent, ordained to ministry. I am a middle-aged normie, as boring as they get, I have lived in the west and the east and the midwest and the southeast, and I can guarantee you when the media profiles “real Americans,” it will never be my face.

But here we are, we have spent decades saying we were wrong then, we must do differently now because of our faith. And here I am, I am up here anyway as generations of the white heteropatriarchy spin in their graves and squirm in their seats. This is the task, and the only way out of any difficult moment is through, so let's dig into it together. 

We are here in chapter 58, part of what is known as third Isaiah. The first part of the book of Isaiah is focused on God’s judgment against Israel and Judah, preceding the Babylonian exile, when a large portion of the people were taken into captivity in Babylonia, humiliated and stripped away from their land, their people, and their God. The second part of the book is focused on the return of these exiles, with words of comfort and hope for the restoration of the people after this massive trauma of displacement. And in third Isaiah, this section of the book, the people were trying to rebuild. They had been enslaved, displaced, humiliated, and exiled - and now they were trying to make another go of it. This time, who would they be? 

Well, based on how the prophet speaks to them, they are not doing a great job. And here they are rebuked. The restoration for which the prophets had yearned, had hoped for so long, was not borne out in the reality on the ground.

Isaiah 58 begins: “Announce to my people their rebellion,

    to the house of Jacob their sins.”

The passage we read is about worship. 

This is a reminder that being a faithful person is not just the external outward signs of worship, it is also that worship and fasting must be accompanied by acts of justice, and that all of this together indicates righteousness. A beautiful worship service while the poor and hungry are shut outside of your fancy gates doesn’t cut it. An eloquent prayer when one ignores the immigrant and the widow doesn’t pass muster. Quoting scripture while mistreating your employees will not make you righteous. Declaring oneself agents of a true faith while committing spiritual violence against your siblings will not make you holy. Spirituality, expressed here in third Isaiah, is not about what goes on inside one’s heart. It is also what one actually does out there in the world.

This is an expansion of the understanding of worship. This passage says worship is not only the parts we think of, the liturgy and the music and the standing up and sitting down and the passing of the peace. Worship is also the healing of the broken, the feeding of the hungry, the justice for the oppressed, the real manifestations of God’s love that can be seen and held, that make a real difference in the real world.

“if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.”

Justice and righteousness are integral to the spirituality of our faith. The ancient ruins will be rebuilt, the foundations of many generations will be raised up, a people will be known as the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.

If we are really going to do this, then something will be required of us, not just as hearers of this scripture, but us, specifically.

What does it even mean to bring healing to a world in such desperate need of it, when we, inheritors of a religion of empire and a patriotism built of death and domination, are the ones who are so broken, everything we thought we knew and who we thought we were is up for grabs, when things we thought we were good at it turns out maybe don’t work anymore. And here is where we are called to have faith. 

I do not mean faith as a cliché, an anemic, meaningless word used as a weapon against those who disagree with us. 

I mean faith as the foundation, the backbone, the rebar. Faith as the love of a grandmother, the water the salmon swims in, the air we breathe, the soil in which the redwoods and the peach trees and grapevines grow. The faith that is strong enough to name evil for what it is. The faith that calls us to struggle with what ails us, what is really wrong with what we have done, instead of skipping to a quick symbolic action, as though our sins were written on an etch-a-sketch instead of upon the earth. 

But our sins are undeniable. They are stamped on us and on the earth… In Topaz, Utah, where my grandmother and her family were incarcerated during World War 2 for the crime of being Japanese American, the outline of that American concentration camp that held Japanese Americans and Japanese people prohibited from seeking U.S. citizenship by law, can still be seen from space. The earth holds the visible outline of that sin and it cannot be undone.

Faith calls us to know these sins in our bones.

We do not have faith. 

Faith 

has 

us. 

I think faith exists with or without us, that God holds us even when we have let go, that our collective faith is so everpresent that we as individuals may take a break, have a moment of doubt, step away, but the faith in and of itself will go on forever, the communion of the baptized is always ready to receive us back, and the grace of God catches us in its stream, carrying us gently in those times when we can no longer manage to swim.

This faith that will make even us agents of healing.

Where I serve is filled with people yearning for God’s love, committed to sharing that love with the world.

Where do you hear God?

Where I serve, we hear God everywhere: in the vast silence of the forest, with the mighty redwoods, sequoias, oaks, towering over us. 

We hear God in the busy chatter of the street, over vendors, in the voices of immigrants and descendants of immigrants calling for justice, where we leave our church buildings and go out into the world. 

We work to end systemic racism, nurture our congregations and our partners, believe Black Lives Matter, transgender people are sacred, too.

We seek to make things right by feeding our neighbors, serving hot meals, handing out bags of food from the food bank and produce from the church garden, going to encampments of neighbors who live outside to distribute toiletries and a meal. 

We seek to heal by showing up for our immigrant members and neighbors, providing cash assistance to those unable to support themselves because of this administration’s cruel and punitive approach to those who are refugees and immigrants. We go with them to court, stand outside in vigil with prayer, snacks and songs, cups of coffee, toys for the children (there are so many children going to immigration court). We connect the struggle for immigrant rights with the struggle to end state violence for all people. Carceral violence is carceral violence, whether it is inflicted by the state or a private corporation.

Are not your hearts broken, too? Because my heart is broken. Beyond the individual griefs I hold, I know we are a people who changed almost nothing after Sandy Hook and Uvalde, because we have allowed our government to lock children up behind bars and put them in cages with impunity. Because the Supreme Court has shredded the Reconstruction amendments, the hard work of those who fought for human rights, because we are still supposed to get up and go to work and buy things and protest respectfully.

I am not so foolish to believe our heartbreaks are the same, but I know we are all human. Because grief comes for us all. Because it is part of a regular human life. And being a human is so brutal… and so beautiful.

We worship as faithful people, as whores and Philistines, as saints, holy and broken, sinful and sacred. We have managed to be both/and, to inspire each other and hurt each other, to gather in worship and say ridiculous things, sometimes in the same breath. We break each other’s hearts all the damn time, and those of us who have been so deeply wounded because we must live in a church that cannot help but treat us with contempt because we are Black or brown or foreign or queer or nonbinary or neurodivergent or disabled, because we are the ones who have to find our resilience, to convince the rest of you that our humanity deserves respect, that our people are beautiful and strong and brilliant, that our faith expression is not a branch but the roots.

But I want to think about our broken hearts in the context of being healing agents. 

The moment our hearts break is the moment of possibility, where the breaks can make space for something different. 

God is in the break. 

In many genres of music, there is this part called the “break.” The “break” is an instrumental section, sometimes it’s the drum solo. It provides this space, where hip hop artists stretch out the time to allow for breakdancers to go wild, where jazz artists can shine, where the disco music changes completely for a moment. 

Poet, youth spoken word pioneer, and non-profit leader Michelle “Mush” Lee says “The break is the moment the song almost collapses and that is exactly where the freedom is.”

Don’t you see that we are free? We worship a living God, a savior, who was executed, died, was buried, and descended into hell, and who, on the third day, rose again. We have already lived through death. We have been to hell and back. We have already lived through countless heartbreaks, survived and fought to stay in a church that had broken its promises long before it baptized us. We have already lived through schisms. We have lived through shared dehumanization, and always, we have limped back together through a faith that holds us. We are a forgiven people. We are a free people. We are a people who have been shown immense grace even when we did not deserve it. We are here because all this together, this sin and this beauty, in one painful gorgeous mix, made today possible. This is not to say “suffering is character-building,” but 

we are the church we are 

because we were the church we were.

Sometimes, in the midst of our own failures, the sins of our forebears surrounding us, the grief of knowing we have benefited from the very same conditions that cause so much suffering, we trip ourselves up and forget we are loved, forgiven, and freed. 

In the book “My Friends” a teenager asked her friend’s mother, “Is it horrible being an adult?" ... "Unbearable," the mother replied. "You fail with almost everything, all the time.”

We forget that in this failure, in recognizing it, in breaking the heart open, our hearts have the chance to become bigger. A broken heart is the moment of possibility.

Every time we work to feed or house or clothe someone, every person who goes free because we worked together, every person who was told they were not enough and learn they are worthy because we make it so, we live into the possibility of healing that which is broken. 

I am heartened by our conviction to bring healing and I am flabbergasted by our audacity to believe we can do so, but do not be confused about our role. We are not agents, we are collaborators, if only because we have no other choice. God is the one who heals and we are the ones sent.

Liberation is still both possible and inevitable.

After all, our faith ancestors might be surprised? horrified? that a queer biracial Asian American woman of Jewish and Japanese descent closes this assembly, that I might be a physical manifestation of the possibilities of our faith. How many of us are less our ancestors’ wildest dreams, and more the culmination of the liberation created by the space in the heartbreak they caused or endured?

God’s healing will happen with or without us, “God will do whatever God must do,” said the preacher, and we are invited to join in. It is who we are, because of whose we are.

We are meant to stay ready for the break, the moment when the music changes, for the chance to jump in and dance. 

Well. Do you hear it?

The music has changed. The moment is now.

Go to “remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,” because you too know what heartbreak is, the heaviness in your chest, the sick feeling in your gut. You have been on the other side, too. 

Go to “offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted” because someone has accompanied you before, making sure you ate, making sure you knew you were loved.

Go to choose this fast, “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free.”

Go with the audacity and obligation to be leaves of the tree for the healing of the nations, because you are forgiven and freed as Christ’s own. We are free!

Ready? Here’s the break. Dance!

Thank you Laura

The Reverend Laura Mariko Cheifetz serves as the Transitional Executive Presbyter. A biracial Asian American queer ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church (USA), she has served previously in racial and gender justice advocacy, religious publishing, reproductive justice, and theological education in the Midwest, East, and Southeast.

Born in San Francisco, raised in eastern Oregon and western Washington, she is a double “pastors’ kid.” Laura is a graduate of North Park University (MBA, ’11), McCormick Theological Seminary (M.Div. ’05), and Western Washington University (BA in Sociology, 2000).

She is the co-author and editor of “Church on Purpose: Reinventing Discipleship, Community, & Justice” (Judson Press) and co-editor and contributor to “Race in America: Christians Respond to the Crisis” (Westminster John Knox Press), and a contributor to the documentary series “Trouble the Water: Conversations to Disrupt Racism and Dominance.” Laura's next project, "Crossing Shores and Horizons: Asian and Asian American Transnational Feminist Theologies" (Westminster John Knox Press) is due out in November, 2026.

She serves on the advisory team for Presbyterian Disaster Assistance and the board of PANAAWTM (Pacific Asian North American Asian Women in Theology & Ministry)

She lives with her partner and their rescue dog in the East Bay.

Laura's sermon text is being shared with her permission. Please do not quote without attribution to Rev. Laura Mariko Cheifetz. If you would like to contact Laura directly, she can be reached by eMail or on LinkedIn.

Laura on LinkedIn

"Happy Birthday America!" does not feel right.

When I think about a birthday party, I think of family and friends coming together to celebrate a person, to wish them well, and to show them that there is a community who loves and supports them.

Well, Bruce, why can't you do that for the good ol' U.S. of A? Why can't you celebrate the United States, wish it well, and show others that you're part of a community that loves and supports it? Why? Because the United States does not deserve or need a birthday party while it is stripping away civil rights, disappearing people, ravaging the environment, and keeping people poor.

We have all been to birthday parties in the past. They are filled with love, joy, and hopes for the future. Yes, they are also often seasoned with simmering beef between family members, unspoken slights, and the understanding that for one day, the person's flaws are overlooked, but they generally have a positive vibe. In the before times, sure, I could engage in a little escapism, overlook historic flaws and missteps, and join in for a good July 4th Birthday BBQ – but not this year.

You will not find me celebrating the 250th Birthday of the United States, because just like a family member who is making terrible choices that inflict violence, pain, and suffering on themselves and others, the United States does not need a party that glosses over its actions – the United States needs an intervention that confronts them.

While I assume most folks have been to a birthday party, I make no assumption that everyone has participated in an intervention or communal act of holding a loved one accountable. It is excruciating. There is an internal battle between wanting to loudly express rage at them, give up on them, or hug them so tightly that their pain could be released and all would be better in the world. I wish this experience upon no one, but sometimes because of the depth of our love and hope, there is no choice but to honestly and courageously confront our loved ones, or in this case and this year, the behavior of the United States.

Holding loved ones accountable does not diminish my love for them; rather, it is a necessary act that does the opposite: it shows the depth of the love, tenderness, and hope others have for them. Refusal to hold the United States accountable makes me an accomplice and would further normalize and reinforce its behavior. For many celebrations, I have no doubt that this is exactly the intent of many of this weekend's parties, fairs, and celebrations: "Look over here, have some cake, and watch some fireworks, but please do not look over there where we are harming our own citizens, abandoning global partners, choosing war, and ultimately tearing apart our very own soul. " I have written on this before, but like so many who have been challenging the negative effects of Americanism, I am grateful to be part of this country and I have high hopes and expectations for what we can be and become.

I admit that in the past I have allowed myself to overlook things I shouldn't have and participate in the occasional 4th shindig, but in this current political and cultural season, I cannot allow myself to take cover behind the privileges of my wealth, security, and social location. Of course, you do you, but on this Fourth of July, you will not find me celebrating the 250th birthday of our nation. The United States needs to be better before I can do so.

However you will spend your 4th of July, may you know peace,

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.

For you pastors out there, I don't know about you, but I generally dread preaching on July 4th. It has often been because many of the churches that I have served have sacrificed themselves at the altar of "let's just get along," or I simply was not brave enough to tackle Christian Nationalism and toxic patriotism.

This July 4th, you better believe that I am taking on both of those when I am in the pulpit. I'll expand in the worship resources section, but I am going to try and come at it from two directions: we critique because we want the best for things we love, and we are all closer to crossing the line of kindness to cruelty than we would like to admit.

But first, we continue working our way through my Faith Montage as we see how and why we gather as God's people. If you need a specific prayer addressing Christian Nationalism, here is one: For Those Fighting Christian Nationalism.

Gathering as Misfits and Strangers #LetUsPray

Let us pray —

By dirt roads and oceans vast, across concrete highways and infinite skies,
by coercion and by consequence, by circumstance, and by choice —
our journeys converge.

Ancestors and saints,
generations past,
generations of today,
and generations yet to come.

We arrive, we mingle, and we observe.

We step forward, we step back, we pause, we try again

We engage in a divine dance,
these bodies, the body,
all in a space that is God’s,

These bodies embody the depth and texture of the Divine,
seen and unseen,
known and unknown,
addressed and avoided.

These bodies are not always in control,
minds betraying,
bodies breaking down,
emotions in disarray,
mind, body, and spirit,
swirling, swirling, swirling.

Misfits and strangers uniquely gathered like no place other.
Gathered by love,
gathered to love,
gathered even when we are unable to love,
and gathered especially when we feel undeserving of love.

Woven together in moments momentary and lingering
to worship God,
to know what it is to belong,
to celebrate the jubilance of life,
to grieve when life is loss,
to lament and to confess,
to forgive and to be forgiven,
to worship, to pray, to march, to nap,
to argue, to ponder, to weep, to laugh,
to discern the mind of Christ and the will of God,
to love the other as the world would not want us to love
ourselves,
to affirm and proclaim that we belong to one another,
and in turn we belong to God.

— Amen.

Hoping that you experience belonging in many ways and in many places!

Peace,

LITURGY AND PREACHING PROMPTS

12th Sunday in Ordinary Time, July 5, 2026

RCL Year A Readings (NRSV): Genesis 24:34-38, 42-49, 58-67 | Psalm 45:10-17 | Romans 7:15-25a | Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30
NL Summer Readings (Ruth & Esther) (CEB): Esther 7:1-10, 9:1-2, 20-22, 29-32 (From Sadness to Joy) Accompanying text: Luke 1:68-72 (God Saves [Biblical] Israel)

In writing liturgy, I attempt to be economical with words while addressing the events of the day in ways that help people find grounding in their faith. For readings, I refer to the Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary (RCL) and The Narrative Lectionary from The Working Preacher (NL). Paid Subscribers should please feel free to use any of the liturgical resources with or without attribution.

Here is the trailer for Episode 90 of The Amalgamation Podcast — A Conversation with Co-Moderator Candidates Rebecca Luter and Chris Peters.

This episode is part of a four-part Amalgamation Podcast series profiling the teams standing for co-moderator of the 227th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA). 

In each episode, we discuss the future of the church, faith leaders and direction action, Christian Nationalism, ICE and Immigration, Christian Zionism, Artificial Intelligence, the debates about marriage, and more. You will also learn about the nerdiest parts of their lives, what they are watching, reading, or listening to, and each gets a chance to ask me one big question.

All four candidate interview episodes, along with background info and links, drop on Saturday, June 27, so be sure to subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, YouTube, Podbean, or wherever you listen to podcasts. For immediate access to all four interviews and all future episodes, become a paid subscriber or take advantage of this 30-Day Trial Subscription.

In this episode, I sit down with Chris Peters, a member of Homestead Presbytery and the pastor at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Lincoln, Nebraska, and Rebecca Luter, a member of the Presbytery of the Mid-South and the Pastor at Farmington Presbyterian Church in Germantown, Tennessee. They talk through how their partnership came together almost by accident, what it means to "stand" rather than run for office, and how they're each thinking about power, influence, and burnout as they enter a high-visibility two-year term. The conversation moves through some of the thorniest live questions in the denomination right now — Christian nationalism, immigration, the church's role in protest, AI in ministry — before closing out with a rapid-fire round on Enneagrams, Dave Matthews Band, and what's currently streaming in their living rooms.

Chris and Rebecca bring different temperaments (an Enneagram 7 and a 9, as they'll happily tell you) and different entry points into this calling, but a shared instinct toward transparency, gratitude, and staying grounded in the "roots" of congregational life. It's a candid, often funny, occasionally moving conversation with two people about to take on a job neither of them expected to want.

Thanks for spending time with The Amalgamation, and I hope you enjoy my conversation with Co-Moderator Candidates: Rebecca Luter and Chris Peters.

Co-Moderator Candidacy Website:  www.preparetoemerge.org/

The Amalgamation Podcast, paired with The Amalgamation Newsletter, focuses onsocial justice, pop culture, digital community, left-leaning faith, and more. With humor, with kindness and conviction, each episode shares passions and projects and invites the listener to join Bruce and his guests to co-conspire for good.

The Amalgamation Podcast is hosted by Bruce Reyes-Chow, produced by Emmie Hix, edited by Dessiree McFarland, with music by Merissa Magdael-Lauron.

Show ideas and inquiries can be sent to The Team.

Thanks for listening!