Keep the light ablaze

Photo by Peyton Clough on Unsplash

by Brandon Beck

Based on a sermon given at Reconciliation San Antonio, Sunday February 22, 2026

In Sunday’s reading from Genesis we heard this:

the Lord God commanded the man, “…of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.” the woman saw that the tree was good…it was a delight…the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate; and she also gave some to her husband. Then the eyes of both were opened.

Canadian singer-songwriter Alanis Morrisette, in her song “Ablaze,” which she wrote to her children, gives us an important perspective to listen to about this passage:

First thing that you'll notice is some separation from each other
Yes, it's a lie we've been believing since time immemorial
There was an apple, there was a snake, there was division
There was a split, there was a conflict in the fabric of life
One became two, and then everyone was out for themselves
Everyone was pitted against each other, conflict ruled the realm
All our devotions and temperaments are pulled from different wells
We seem to easily forget we are made of the same cells
My mission is to keep the light in your eyes ablaze
My mission is to keep the light in your eyes ablaze

Now, some people who have a lot of power and privilege, and have had for millenia, don’t want us to know that this passage from Genesis might be about something other than sin and separation, other than men over women, other than people becoming afraid of God. Morisette reminds us of something that we have to hear: separation is a lie. We are all created from the same cells.

We might be tempted to hang on everyone being pitted against each other. But we can resist that lie through our love. That’s the way we keep the light in our eyes ablaze.

What does that blazing light in our eyes look and feel like? How do we keep it burning when times are difficult? When the news is bad? When we’re frustrated or hurt by others?

The Episcopal Church of Reconciliation in San Antonio, Texas has five Core Values that embody our dedication to this practice of keeping the light ablaze:

  • First, we are authentic. We embrace transparency and spontaneity in order to be true to ourselves, to God, and to one another.
  • Second, we are inclusive. We welcome all persons into our common life and celebrate the gifts and growth that come with diversity.
  • Third, we are creative. We experience the fusion of the Divine and the human when we express and celebrate all of God’s gifts.
  • Fourth, we are liturgical. We connect with God in worship through traditional and innovative symbols, rituals, and the arts.
  • And Fifth, we are community. We become more fully alive and one with God as we connect, care and collaborate.

Still, we can always become more authentic, more inclusive, more creative. We can learn and grow in the ways we connect with God and others in liturgy and community. We can remember our same cells more and let the light in our eyes shine brighter.

We do that work of growth in what is called the grace margin.

The grace margin is a concept I learned from the Rev. Dr. Eric Law, founder of the Kaleidoscope Institute. The Rev Dr. Law says that the grace margin is this place of action between our comfort and our fear. He says that when we are in active Christian community, striving for justice and peace among all people, we have to get into that grace margin, that space between our comfort and our fear, because that is where we can be present for God to do what God does even in the lives of people we just don’t want to be around.

Church of Reconciliation was founded and continues to work in this grace margin. We actively seek ways to learn and grow between comfort and fear. Our Core Values emphasize exactly what the Rev Dr. Law is describing when he talks about the grace margin between comfort and fear, that working space where we have to get out of our own way to let God be God, even when times are difficult, even when the news is bad, even in the lives of people with whom we disagree.

I can sense this grace margin in each and every one of our Core Values, but we also have to acknowledge the growth margin that goes along with the grace margin.

And even though we have that grace margin built into our very DNA at Reconciliation, we’re still sometimes uncomfortable admitting it when something is difficult or news is bad or, especially, when people trespass against us. Sometimes, that discomfort leads to fear. However, we can admit our discomfort and fear to God and each other here. Being able to admit our own trespasses is exactly what allows for growth. We have to ask, how do we get past our discomfort and fear and take action to get back to the blazing light that is in all our same cells?

I offer you this four-part strategy from feminist theologian the Rev. Dr. Kwok Pui Lan, who writes out of her experience growing up in the British Colony of Exploitation known as Hong Kong. She advocates four ways a community can take action to create change in the grace margin. She offers us the challenge of the 4 Ds of Decolonial Theology: Disperse, Disrupt, Develop, and Deepen.

The Rev. Dr. Kwok believes, and I agree, that if we fully intend to remember that we’re all made from the same cells, fully intend to keep the light in our eyes ablaze, then:

  • We actively disperse power when we remove hierarchical barriers that separate people from God and each other.
  • We actively disrupt old narratives and interpretations when we listen to stories of real people.
  • We actively develop theologies when we celebrate local needs and learning styles.
  • We actively deepen our spiritual life in both body and mind when we pay attention to the physical needs of all people, especially those who have been marginalized.

Here in the grace margin between comfort and fear at Church of Reconciliation our Core Values draw us near to the Rev. Dr. Kwok’s call to disperse power, disrupt old narratives, develop celebratory theologies, and deepen spiritual life for all people.

Even though we ate the fruit of the tree of knowledge and our eyes are open, open to the truth of our oneness with God and each other, we cannot grow complacent or think that our work is finished. We have to remember why we’re here and renew our commitment to our mission in order to keep growing. Our core values matter more than ever as we work to grow in the grace margin so that justice and peace are ever more present among all people. Our mission is to keep the light in our eyes ablaze. Our mission is to keep the light in our eyes ablaze.

Love as resistance

Love in Action at Church of Reconciliation quarterly parking lot, drive-up Food Bank distribution and come-and-take clothing swap with donuts, tacos, and coffee. In December, a special visit from Mr. and Mrs. Claus with free photos for families accompanied the event. Blog author Brandon Beck is shown accompanying Mrs. Claus. Photo courtesy of Brandon Beck

by Brandon Beck

Dr. Natalya Cherry of Brite Divinity School, in a lecture to an Introduction to Christian Theology course, said, “We have to define theology so it doesn’t get co-opted by our oppressors” (Jan. 17, 2026). As a staunch post-modernist, I resist defining anything. I often quote Inigo Montoya from the 1987 Rob Reiner classic film The Princess Bride, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” While Inigo Montoya spoke these words to his companion Vizzini in response to his repeated misuse of the word, “Inconceivable!” with intention to point out Vizzini’s error, I use them in order to register my belief that all words defy definition and are merely “sound and fury, signifying nothing.” (Shakespeare’s Macbeth).

Yet, Dr. Cherry’s words have caused me to pause. If she is correct and defining theology prevents it from being co-opted by our oppressors, then it stands to reason that defining other foundational words would protect them from co-optation as well.

The art of definition and the very act of putting words into the world takes on an entirely new weight and significance when we are charged with preventing oppressors from co-opting them.

In a world overrun with words everywhere from classrooms to social media, the sides of buses to the skins of cars, sweatshirts to yard signs, how can we make our words mean what we want them to mean? How can we align our words to Jesus’ genuine Love? How can we prevent our words from being co-opted by our oppressors?

What if it has less to do with the words themselves and more to do with how our actions align with our words? I believe that our words are defined less by more words and more by the way we live them out.

In the First Letter from John, we learn a little more about aligning our words with Jesus’ genuine Love and our actions with those words:

For this is the message you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another. (3:11)

Do not be astonished…that the world hates you…we have passed from death to life because we love… (3:13-14)

Little children, let us love not in word or speech but in deed and truth. And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before [God] whenever our hearts condemn us, for God is greater than our hearts, and [God] knows everything. (3:18-20) (NRSVUE)

John teaches us as he was taught by Jesus to love not in word or speech but in deed and truth. Our words matter, but the way we behave matters more. Most importantly, we have to act in love.

And herein we return to that powerful call to define. If we don’t define love, then it will be co-opted by our oppressors. Jesus’ genuine Love is the love we must define and then with which we must act in the world. We must define Jesus’ genuine Love and then act with that genuine love against the oppressors.

Fortunately, Paul defined Jesus’ genuine Love for us already:

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable; it keeps no record of wrongs;it does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Cor 13:4-7 NRSVUE) 

All that’s left for us is to live out that genuine Jesus Love.

Honoring the heart of a stranger

Photo courtesy of Pam Tinsley

by Pam Tinsley

I was struck by an essay, The Greater Good, which the Irish Jesuits posted last month on their Sacred Space website:

In an individualist culture, perhaps more than ever, we need to learn from the lesson placed before us by Christ the King. We are our brothers’ and our sisters’ keepers. ‘We live in each other’s shadow,’ as one Irish saying puts it. While independence is all fine and well, inter-dependence is the greater good – a kind heart and open hand. The plight of war refugees has been well documented, but there were and are disquieting voices raising opposition.

The Irish Rune on hospitality says:
     We saw a stranger yesterday.
     We put food in the eating place,
     Drink in the drinking place,
     Music in the listening place.
     And with the sacred name of the triune God
     We were blessed, and our house,
     Our cattle and our dear ones.
     As the lark says in her song:
     Often, often, often goes the Christ
     In the stranger’s guise.

It is not uniquely Irish, of course, for many cultures instinctively know that we need to honour the heart of the stranger; we need to recognise how much like us the person is; we need to remember the humanity of each and every person. Welcoming the stranger blesses us as well as it aids the recipient of our hospitality.

In God’s family, there are no strangers, only kin or clan, as we might say. Kinship is God’s dream come true. It’s about imagining a circle of compassion and then imagining no one standing outside that circle. For whatever you do with love has eternal value.

Today Christ the King says to us, ‘What you do for others, you do for me.’ – Tom Cox, The Sacred Heart Messenger, November 2023

During this past month, I’ve found myself being the recipient of love and care rather than being the giver – to which I’m much more accustomed. As I’ve begun preparation for a bone marrow transplant, the importance of community speaks deeply to me. Although I’m certainly embraced by family, friends, and parish communities, I’m now being embraced by an ever-expanding network of caregivers, i.e., a new community. Outpatient clinic and hospital providers come together to form a team, of which I’m also an integral part. It’s clear that we are all walking this journey together, step by step. We were strangers yet now we are a community, dependent upon and honoring the particular gifts each one offers to complete the whole and pointing toward something greater than any one of us. And I am blessed not only by their professionalism, but also the warmth and hope that each person radiates.

The Lord is near

Photo by Alfons Taekema on Unsplash

by Demi Prentiss

The holy days we’ve just celebrated – All Hallows’ Eve (Hallowe’en), All Saints’ Day, and All Souls’ Day (Día de los Muertos) – form an autumnal triduum that, for me, is a hinge point in the Christian year, much like the Easter Triduum of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday. These autumnal days are marked with rites and readings that point our imaginations toward end times and our mortality, alongside the Northern Hemisphere’s season of first frosts, fall color, leaf-raking, putting the garden to bed, and hibernation.  The ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (say “SAH-win”) recognizes the season as a time when the veil between the living and the dead is thin.  Many seasonal customs – pumpkin carving, bonfires, wearing masks and costumes, and even trick-or-treating – have grown out of Samhain traditions. The observance of Veterans’ Day early in November echoes the theme as we honor the lives of service members, living and dead and acknowledge their sacrifices.

The “autumnal triduum” offers us a chance to recognize that death is a part of life.  Just as the trees celebrate the harvest by going dormant, the shortening days call us to reduce activity and value what stillness and silence can teach us. We can begin to grapple with the mystery that dying can free us, disencumber us, so we can resonate with the “new thing” that God is beginning to set in motion. Fields that lie fallow for a season are primed for bearing fruit when the time is right. The cycles of nature remind us that this is an eternal, God-formed pattern.

This year’s lectionary readings between All Saints and Advent 1 continue to explore the immanence of the reign of God:

  • “For I know that my Redeemer lives…and at the last…I shall see God.” Job 19:26-27
  • “But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings.” Malachi 4:2
  • “Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive.” Luke 20:38
  • “Surely, it is God who saves me; I will trust in him and not be afraid.  For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defense, and he will be my Savior.”  Isaiah 12:5-6
  • “Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel; he has come to his people and set them free.” Luke 1:68
  • “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” Psalm 46:1
  • “Be still, then, and know that I am God….“ Psalm 46:11
  • “He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” Colossians 1:14
  • “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” [Jesus] replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” Luke 23:43

As we claim our baptismal identity as beloved and called children of God, the autumn triduum reminds us to reflect on the paradox that shapes our calling:  truly, “we are but dust” AND “we are the image and likeness of God.”

God loves you, and you, and you!

Photo by Pam Tinsely

by Pam Tinsley

“God created you and he never creates things he doesn’t want” is the message on the reader board outside a church I often drive by. What an important message for us today and every day, especially when we hear so many messages to the contrary!

God loves us, even when we try to hide our flaws. God loves us even when we pretend to be worthy. God loves us, even if we feel we’re unworthy. God loves us, especially when others tell us we are worthless. God knows us intimately – our sitting down, our rising up, and every word on our lips, as the Psalmist observes (Ps 139) – and still God loves us simply because God’s essence is love.

Today, the world stokes our fear and insists that we must choose sides. Choosing a worldly viewpoint serves only to intensify our feelings of separation from one another and from God. Again and again, Jesus and angels assure us not to be afraid. Playing on our fears sends the message – and especially to the weak, the lost, and the vulnerable – that God doesn’t love us; that God doesn’t care; that God has turned God’s back on us.

But God’s way is love, and love is God’s way of saying that none of this is true.

When we claim the truth that we are loved, we free ourselves from the shackles of fear and can open our hearts to receive God’s abundant love. We’re then called to respond to God’s love by walking in love, not fear, hate, or indifference. We’re called to put our love into action by reaching out to others, regardless of whether we believe that they are worthy. We’re called to pass on the never-ending love we receive because there is no end to God’s fountain of love.

And why should we choose love instead of fear? Because God created us and will never stop loving us. Because God created our neighbors and loves each and every one of them. And because God never creates anything that God doesn’t love.

Lord, have mercy — What a week!

Photo by Sarah RK on Unsplash

by Demi Prentiss

The stream of alarming news over the past week has been unrelenting:

  • Conservative activist Charlie Kirk was shot and killed in front of a crowd gathered at Utah Valley University.
  • Another school shooting in Colorado placed 900 high school students in lock-down, with two students critically injured and the shooter dead by his own hand.
  • The Israeli military ordered a full evacuation of Gaza City, home to about one million Palestinians.
  • Russian drones violated Polish airspace, eliciting a response from NATO forces.
  • Ukraine continues to resist Russia’s unremitting attacks, now in the fourth year of this most recent invasion, as Ukrainian civilian casualties continue to mount.
  • The French government collapsed following a no-confidence vote, ousting the prime minister.
  • Four hundred US federal agents raided a Hyundai plant in Georgia, detaining 475 workers, including hundreds of South Korean nationals.
  • US National Guard troops remain deployed in Los Angeles and Washington DC, with planned deployments in Memphis and Louisiana. Chicago, Baltimore, New York City, and Oakland, CA may also see similar deployments.
  • The nation observed the 24th anniversary of 9/11/2001, when terrorists crashed four passenger planes, demolishing our country’s illusion of invincibility.

Perhaps we have access to too many bad-news stories. Allowing even 30 minutes of news from around the world is enough to quench hope and feed despair. This week, I sought out dependable hope-bearers I’ve discovered thanks to the world wide web. Perhaps you’ll glean a bit of perspective and courage from three full-length articles that have bolstered my courage and raised my spirits. Each one, excerpted here, offers a helpful focus for action:

   “We often say that we will pray for the victims and their families, and pray we must. But our faith demands more from us. We must guard the hatred in our hearts and on our lips; it is hatred and righteous indignation that leads to violence. Jesus said plainly, ‘it is that which is on our lips and in our hearts that defiles us.’”
   “My Bishop Allan Bjornberg once said that the greatest spiritual practice … is just showing up.
“And in some ways Mary Magdalene is like, the patron saint of just showing up.
“Because showing up means being present to what is real, what is actually happening. She didn’t necessarily know what to say or what to do or even what to think….but none of that is nearly as important as the fact that she just showed up. She showed up at the cross where her teacher Jesus became a victim of our violence and terror. She looked on as the man who had set her free from her own darkness bore the evil and violence of the whole world upon himself and yet still she showed up.”
   “George W. Bush, who was president on that horrific day, spoke in Pennsylvania at a memorial for the passengers of the fourth flight, United Airlines Flight 93, who on September 11, 2001, stormed the cockpit and brought their airplane down in a field, killing everyone on board but denying the terrorists a fourth American trophy….
“[W]e can take guidance from the passengers on Flight 93, who demonstrated as profoundly as it is possible to do what confronting such a mentality means. While we cannot know for certain what happened on that plane on that fateful day, investigators believe that before the passengers of Flight 93 stormed the cockpit, throwing themselves between the terrorists and our government, and downed the plane, they took a vote.”

Pray. Show up. Courageously claim your identity.  And for heaven’s sake, connect with a community of like-minded souls, who can walk alongside you, strengthening your resolve. Such practices help us give life to the baptismal covenant that seals our God-given identity — “child of God, beloved and called.”

As we make our way “through many dangers, toils, and snares,”[1] may we be en-couraged to walk in our rabbi’s footsteps.


[1] John Newton, “Amazing Grace” hymn text.

Holy labor

Frieze at St Pancras Station, London

by Pam Tinsley

Almighty God, you have so linked our lives one with another that all we do affects, for good or ill, all other lives: So guide us in the work we do, that we may do it not for self alone, but for the common good; and, as we seek a proper return for our own labor, make us mindful of the rightful aspirations of other workers, and arouse our concern for those who are out of work; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. – Collect for Labor Day, Book of Common Prayer

As Labor Day approaches, I’ve been reflecting on the meaningfulness of work and how its function is being transformed by technology and Artificial Intelligence. Our work has meaning because it matters to God. From the beginning, humans have sensed that creation is alive with God’s presence, and our role has been to do God’s work in the world.

The Hebrew word “avodah” means “work, worship, and service.” The word used to describe worshipliturgy – means “the work of the people.” And when we place God at the heart of our daily work, the eternal is drawn into the temporal. It becomes sacramental. Labor is sacramental not only for what it produces but for how it shapes our human dignity, builds community, and reflects God’s creative purpose. Honoring workers, therefore, is also honoring the divine image in each person and the sacred character of each person’s daily toil.

Even as technology reshapes jobs and entire economies, our deeper vocation will not change. Work is not simply what we do to earn money. It is who we are as beings made in the image of God: people of faith and gratitude linking heaven and earth. Every job – from the humblest to the most prestigious – carries the same sacred title when offered to God.

Although work may take on new forms, on Labor Day we remember and commemorate the true essence of work: to worship, to give thanks, to serve, and to reflect the presence of Christ in all people and in creation. Work is holy because it is our destiny—not defined by tasks or paychecks, but by our identity as God’s holy people, made to love and to reflect God through the work of our lives.

On eagles’ wings

Jackie and Shadow, photo courtesy Friends of Big Bear Valley and Big Bear Eagle Nest Cam

by Pam Tinsley

Ever since a bald eagle flew over our son and daughter-in-law’s outdoor wedding – and a friend observed that eagles are a sign of blessing – I’ve been mesmerized when an eagle soars overhead. If I hear a murder of crows squawking fiercely, I’ll search the skies for a nearby eagle.

Recently, my fascination with eagles led me to follow the Big Bear Eagle Nest Cam. Jackie and Shadow have been nurturing their two eaglets, as they grow from newly hatched little fluff balls into full-sized eagles. But the real excitement has been watching the young stars Sunny and Gizmo learn, from observing their parents and then practicing. Arranging freshly delivered sticks around the nest helped them develop nest-building and bonding skills. They tussled over fish, and they watched their parents soar overhead and sometimes fend off other birds of prey. Of course, the highlight has been their “wingercizes” as they prepare to fledge!

I was struck by the similarities between Sunny and Gizmo and Jesus’ first disciples, who observed, practiced, and learned from Jesus. The same qualities lie at the core of our call today, as we learn to live and to love like Jesus. Observing, practicing, and learning are how we learn to “fly” – that is, to reveal Christ’s love in the world. The Holy Spirit guides us, even when we falter – just as Sunny and Gizmo are encouraged by their parents. We also can look to each other for encouragement and support.

Our spiritual practices of learning and worship ground us in God. Like our eaglets’ “wingercizes,” they help us grow deeper in our faith. They strengthen us to go where God calls us: to befriend the marginalized; to feed the hungry; to house the unhoused; and to speak truth to and about power – and always with love.

Likewise, we “fledge” every week. Church is like a basecamp or a spiritual gym: It prepares us to put our faith – strengthened by our “wingercizes” – into action in our daily lives. We practice our faith with love by going out into the world to do the work that God has given us, wherever we may land.

Choose spirit-filled!

by Pam Tinsley

How Full is Your Bucket Is the title of a book I read years ago for professional development.Authors Tom Rath and Donald Clifton’s premise is that each of us has an invisible “bucket,” and each interaction with another person can help fill our “bucket” by making us feel more valued, more positive. Conversely, when we say or do negative things, we diminish other people and ourselves. Those interactions affect our physical health; our mental health; our productivity; and even our longevity.

Each of us also has an invisible “dipper.”  When we use that dipper to fill other people’s buckets – by saying or doing things to increase their positive emotions and energy[1] – not only do we fill their buckets, but we also fill our own bucket.

I was reminded of this book on the first Sunday in Lent when we read in Luke’s Gospel that Jesus is full of the Holy Spirit as he is led in the wilderness by the Holy Spirit. It’s no surprise that Jesus is full of the Holy Spirit. After all, he’s just been baptized in the Jordan River by John the Baptist and anointed by the Holy Spirit. He’s also been affirmed as God’s beloved Son, with whom God is well-pleased. As Jesus fasts for 40 days in the wilderness, the devil keeps trying to empty Jesus’ bucket by tempting him.

At baptism, we, too, are anointed and affirmed. We’re sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own – forever. Our buckets are full. They’re full of the Holy Spirit. They’re full of love – because God created us in love and for love.

Every day, throughout the course of our lives, each of us has multiple opportunities to fill someone else’s bucket – or to dip from it. Each such encounter is a choice. We can fill someone’s bucket, or we can dip from it. We do this by choosing to be loving and kind – especially in the face of adversity and even cruelty. By choosing to be kind we can profoundly shape our relationships, our health, and our spiritual well-being. This Lent, I’m choosing a daily practice of kindness. And I invite you to join me in this practice, as together we spread Christ’s love in a way that just might offer hope and healing to our hurting world.


[1] Tom Rath and Donald Clifton, PhD. How Full is Your Bucket (New York: Gallup Press, 2004), 15.

Not far . . .

Marked as Christ’s own forever – Instagram

by Edward Lee [From his parish’s daily 2025 Lenten Reflections written by parishioners]

And when Jesus saw that he [the scribe] answered wisely,  he said to him, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.”  Mark 12:34

And what was the scribe’s wise answer? A paraphrase of what Jesus had declared earlier when the scribe asked him, “Which commandment is the first of all?” Jesus’s reply, drawn from Hebrew scripture: “The first commandment is this: Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is the only Lord. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these.”

I am a “cradle Episcopalian” from birth (1934) and baptism (1935), all the way to becoming a bishop (1989). I am steeped in the language and liturgies of the Book of Common Prayer (BCP) the many texts of which have informed and nurtured my life as a disciple of Jesus, the Christ. And probably none more so than the above passage. For centuries it has been referred to as Jesus’s “Summary of the Law” with the “shall nots” of the Ten Commandments firmly echoing in mind and memory. In the current BCP it is incorporated in the text of “A Penitential Order” that can precede celebrations of the Eucharist. The emphasis in both contexts is on personal contrition, confession, repentance, amendment of life, and pardon; the getting our lives right with God, and therefore closer to God’s kingdom. Let’s be clear, it is a basic and faith-tested practice of Christian spirituality and discipleship. And still is when it comes to serious soul-searching.

However, over the years I’ve come to realize it is also a spirituality and discipleship for Christian community: how we relate to each other and our neighbors as deemed and demonstrated by Jesus; and live in the whole world that God with/in Jesus has “so loved,” and not just the church.

For me the operative biblical word is Covenant with a capital C. It’s about a holy relationship that is mutual and reciprocal, initiated by God in Christ, but beckoning us, even wanting us, to come and be nearer to God’s kingdom with all our capacities of heart, soul, mind, and strength, and not only our contrite confessions and repentance. It’s a radical hope and dare by God. Dare we reciprocate and embrace it?

The sacramental sign and action of this Covenant is Holy Baptism (BCP, p. 299ff) by which we are “sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own for ever.” Yes, marked for ever. This Lent let’s think, reflect, and pray about that holy claim on our lives. It can be risky, but I suspect we won’t get much closer to God’s kingdom if only we would let ourselves.