Category Archives: Sermon Segments

SERMON SEGMENT By Cynthia Robles, Final Year MA Diaconal Ministry Student

From a sermon preached by Cynthia Robles at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Dubuque, IA using the gospel text Matt. 25:31-46 

In a Seminary class on Ethics, we read a book called Lest Innocent Blood be Shed about a community in France during WWII that took in Jewish immigrants that were fleeing from Germany. The church in their town of Le Chambon had engraved over the door the words, “Love one another.” In watching a short clip from a movie about these people, when asked why they put themselves at risk by giving German immigrants refuge, they looked at the camera and said, “It’s what we do.” It was as if they wondered why one would ask such a strange question. The truth is, “Love one another” was not only written on their church, but also written on their hearts. It was woven into the fabric of their being.

As I thought about this, I began to see how this way of thinking is so similar to how I feel being called to a ministry of Word and Service. I cannot tell you how many times I am asked, “Why not become a Pastor?” I say, “I know it is not my call. My call is to Word and service.” When explaining this call to some of the men in the “Almost Home” shelter [At St. John’s] last week, one man said, “After all, it is about getting the word of God out there.” I said, “Through actions, right? And he nodded his head, yes.

As I have pondered my call to service, I wondered where it came from in my life. Was there something that happened that made me begin to think this way or is it just who I am? I tried to figure it out, because this sense of call is so strong for me. It came back to thinking about the great role models I had in my life. My Grandparents and my Dad. From the time I was small, I can remember going to church every Sunday, many times with my grandparents.

However, what I remember most about them was their home, only blocks from St. John’s here on Jackson Street. You could show up any time of the day or night and be welcomed. Not only would you be welcomed, but loved. They would give you something to eat or drink or even a warm bed in which to sleep. Their home was the place we gathered during the holidays, small, but filled with laughter and joy. If they knew they weren’t going to be home, we knew where the key was and we were still welcome to come in. If the light was on, you knew they were home and you were welcome. Although they did not have the words “Love one another” written on their home, it was certainly written on their hearts.

The Greatest Commandment written in the Gospel of Matthew is “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. And second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.

In today’s gospel the sheep depict God’s people. They participate in God’s mission. They have responded to Gods call and respond by expressing deeds that manifest God’s Kingdom in a sinful world. Jesus identifies with the poor and desperate. On the other hand, the goats, which have not welcomed the proclamation with positive response, are condemned. They have not “served” Jesus. Disciples live lives of service among those who are living on the margins. This is what is difficult about this text and what I think we all may wrestle with a bit. We know that we do not have to do good works to earn our salvation, but here God is condemning the ones who do not serve.

“Perhaps Jesus says in this parable what he has been saying all along through his teaching and actions and what he will soon say: that God loves us and all the world so much that God has decided to identify with us fully and completely. “We recognize God most easily in the face of our neighbor, meet God in the acts of mercy and service we offer and are offered to us, and live in the blessing of God as we seek to serve as Christ served.”[1]

Two years ago I was asked to resign from my job. I had been in management for over 25 years and for many years worked at making a difference in a community as a Parks and Recreation Director. Once I resigned, I did not know who I was, because I found all my value in my job. It was who I thought I was. Once that was gone, I thought I had nothing. This was a very dark place. I felt like I had no worth, like I was powerless. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life.

Each night there are men who walk through the church doors of “Almost Home,” many who have no job, many who fight addictions and come hungry and thirsty and cold. Many of you may have been through something in your life that has brought you to a dark place, and if you think back, this is where you may have seen Jesus. In this darkness and in this powerlessness we find power, not in ourselves, but in Jesus, the one who has given us this gift of Grace, by living and dying on a cross for you and for me. Because God did this for us, we are justified by Grace through our Faith and because we are given this gift of salvation we are free to serve our neighbor. I know this is true, because I have felt suffering in this life and I am here today to preach the Gospel as a broken, but saved Child of God. I am claiming my baptism, I am living out my Christian Vocation, and I no longer find value in what I am doing, but I find value in what has been done for me. All of you have value too, because this Grace is for you, saints and sinners. I look in the eyes of the men who walk through these doors each night and see Jesus, because Jesus says when you feed the ones who are hungry and you give the ones who are thirsty something to drink, clothe them and give shelter to the ones who need it, you have done this for Jesus. So, I ask, what do you have to give? You have what has been given to you….LOVE. You can love one another, just as God loves you.

And, just as important is a community that loves. When we love one another it spreads. You can see it here in the ministry that is connected to this building that you steward so well. I have seen volunteers from the community who have come forward to open the doors and show hospitality to the men in the shelter, and the neighbors who come to find clothes for the winter months to keep from freezing in their homes where many cannot afford heat. The men from the Shelter help those neighbors and I heard them bless one another over and over. Students from Wartburg made winter hats for the men. The young lady who we heard from at the beginning of the service has a mission in this life to make this community a better place by loving others. She has coordinated with several families to bring food for the men who are hungry, “And God said, let the Children lead,” This is the gospel in action; we have God’s love woven into the fabric of our being, in St. John’s and in this neighborhood community that God has given to us as a gift. Pure gift.

So, let us share this gift with others, tell the story of what has been done in the name of the one who loves us. We are sent out to tell this story to ones who may not ever hear it. “Mission itself becomes redefined when we consider the move outwards as a move towards God!” [2]”The community is sent out from the Lord’s Supper as body of Christ only to discover that the body of Christ is already waiting for the community in those suffering in the world.”[3] This is what I call discipleship; this is what we do. You can do this here or like my grandparents, in your own home, or in your work, or on the playground, in whatever you do. Let us etch the words over our door: “Love one another” and imagine then, that it will be etched in our hearts.

“I know that I want to have a door in the depths of my being, a door that is not locked against the faces of all other human beings. I know that I want to be able to say, from those depths, “Naturally, come in, and come in.””[4]

 

[1] “Christ the King A: The Unexpected God | …In the Meantime,” n.d., accessed December 4, 2014, http://www.davidlose.net/2014/11/christ-the-king-a/.

[2] “Commentary on Matthew 25:31-46 by Dirk G. Lange,” accessed December 4, 2014, http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=173.

[3] “Christ the King A.”

[4] Philip P. Hallie, Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed: The Story of the Village of Le Chambon and How Goodness Happened There, 1st edition. (New York: Harper Perennial, 1994), 287.

ALL SAINTS DAY REMEMBERED by Josh Johnson, final year M.Div.

Homily given at Wartburg Seminary Chapel November 3, 2014

Today is All Saints Day, a day in which we remember and honor the saints of our lives. Saints are far and near, and both living and dead. As part of preparing for today’s message, I reflected upon experiences of this day since coming to Wartburg.

My first All Saints day here at the castle was the type of day that I had grown accustomed to. We celebrated those who had gone before us with familiar hymns, the reading of the names of the recently deceased, and the lighting of candles. It was a celebration of all those who had touched us throughout the years.

The following year was quite the opposite. As some of you know, my second year here on campus was marked by the death of our son Josiah. Shannon and I found out 2 weeks prior to school starting that his heart had stopped beating. Josiah was stillborn at 37 weeks.

All Saints took on a much different meaning for me. I remember yearning to hear his name read with the other saints.

This wasn’t the planned path; baby’s names are to be read at baptisms and other celebrations, but this was it for me.

Death gave us this one the last milestone.

This past All Saints service was also marked with a death in my life. Last summer my grandfather died at 80 years of age. He lived a long, fruitful life and was very special to me.

All Saints Day was a day of fond memories as I remembered my special relationship with him.

This is how I imagined All Saints Day to go, a sad, yet joyous commemoration.

Today’s gospel lesson comes from Jesus’ familiar teaching from the Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes. I don’t know about you, but there’s something about these blessings that doesn’t settle with me.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, the mourning, the meek, the hungry, and so on. How are the people who experience these blessed?

There’s no way Jesus is telling us that some of the most challenging and miserable situations in life are blessings. It has to be a problem in translation.

So let’s try out some alternative meanings for this Greek word:

How about, favored are the poor in spirit… no that’s not it.

Oh, fortunate are those who mourn… that’s not any better, fortunate is the last word that comes to mind when I think about the death of a loved one.

Ok, how about this one: privileged are the meek, or happy are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness… no, those don’t work either

So, if blessed is the right word here, what is Jesus trying to tell his disciples?

The next question that begs to be asked from the text, is about the “wills” in the second half of the statement. They will be comforted; they will inherit the earth; they will be filled; and so on. So, when will this take place? When will those who mourn be comforted?

Death is an unavoidable reality of our world. Death sneaks in and takes away a loved one out of nowhere; death also comes for those for whom we expect it to come.

Nevertheless, death separates us from those we love. It stings. It hurts. It’s unfair. You know this. I know this.

When Josiah died and every hope and dream was dashed away in an instant, I was beyond crushed. I had nothing.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Sisters and brothers, I am here today to tell you that Jesus’ words are true. No, it’s not because Shannon and I were the “lucky” recipients ofa new angel baby watching over us in heaven.” Moreover, it’s definitely not because we were young enough to try to have more children. I love Noah beyond measure, but he is not God’s comforting answer.

God’s comfort came to us by other means.

God’s comfort came to us through two friends that showed up at a moment’s notice when we found out this dreadful news.

God’s comfort came to us through a supportive community that was present in our time of need.

God’s comfort came through the ones who finally treated us as a human beings rather than as a pity case.

God’s comfort continues to come through supportive friends who continues to be there.

In our time of desperation, we were blessed by the loving presence of those that God sent to comfort us. In our deep grief, in our most vulnerable state, we were blessed because all we had was God, and God was there.

The hurt and pain did not go away, and its memory still resides. Nevertheless, it is not to be borne alone.

We bear it in one another and we bear it in the one who experienced great agony on the cross.

This is the promise of our text today. No matter how crappy life feels, and no matter how far life beats you down.

God promises stand the test of time.

Christ is there when you are stripped of everything else.

The Spirit surrounds you with a witness of saints.

God is with you. Amen

HOLD HIM CLOSE; HOLD HIM LIGHTLY & EUCHARIST MEANS THANKSGIVING by Ralph F. Smith, former WTS Professor

Rev. Ralph SmithThe following are excerpts from Ralph Smith’s two final homilies. Dr. Smith was Professor of Liturgics and Dean of the Chapel for ten years (1984-1994), a pastor, teacher and hymn writer. This November, twenty years after his death, the Wartburg Seminary community is actively remembering Ralph Smith and the important and lasting impact he has had on this community.


Homily Wartburg Chapel, Oct 26, 1994 [Text: Luke l0:38-42]

Hold Him Close, Hold Him Lightly

“My good friend in graduate school and liturgical study, Paul Nelson, may be dying. My daughter had a baby three weeks ago and made me a grandfather a bit earlier in my life than I expected. These two seemingly unrelated incidents prompted my remembering words spoken to me years ago during a health issue of my own, ‘Ralph, you need to understand that we do not have all the time in the world’. . .

We do not have, you or I, all the time in the world. Neither did Mary nor Martha, nor even Jesus. . . Yet no matter how much our head and our heart tell us that we do not have all the time in the world . . .

to write that letter of thanks,

to take that meal to an ill friend,

to clean up the environment,

to finish those few important projects

to tell spouse, children, parents, friends that we love them, and show it,

No matter how much our head and our heart tell us that we do not have all the time in the world . . .

to spend a quiet moment with someone dear to us,

to sing a song,

to pray a prayer,

to gaze at the glowing embers of a fire,

to see the sun rise and set,

to listen to the cry of someone in need,

to ask for strength and courage to face an uncertain future.

No matter how much our head and our heart tell us that we do not have all the time in the world . . . we so often live as though we do. Now that could be the most oppressive and debilitating word I could possibly speak to you today . . .

Ah, but you see, in Luke’s and our post-resurrection perspective it is already too late . . . and it is never too late.

We do not have all the time in the world, but we do have time.

When I lamented not knowing how to react to my grandson, Norma Everist wisely advised me to hold him close and to hold him lightly. It was a liberating word, without sentimentality, and it frees me to do both. To not be distracted . . . one thing is needful . . .

Hold Jesus close, and hold him lightly.

We are invited to love Jesus, but we cannot possess him. Luke understood that… so did Mary… so did Martha… so do you.”


Homily Wartburg Seminary Chapel November 21, Monday morning of Thanksgiving Week. [Text: Luke 15:1-10]
Eucharist Means Thanksgiving
The homily was on the missing sheep and coin, on being lost or found, on cause for rejoicing and thanksgiving. After his death four days later, the Bible on his office desk remained open to the Luke text along with his notes for the service. Here is the conclusion to his homily:

“There are only a few days of classes left until the Thanksgiving holiday. It is a week for Thanksgiving, for celebrations; and even in the midst of sorrow of those alone, separated from family and friends there is still thanksgiving for what the missing relationships have meant.

Thanksgiving is the heart of the Christian gathering; eucharist means thanksgiving . . . Paul said in Colossians, ‘Keep you roots deep in Jesus, build your lives on him, become stronger in your faith, and be filled with Thanksgiving.’”

 


Read more about Rev. Dr. Ralph F. Smith, as shared by the Wartburg Seminary community

 

 

STAINED GLASS WINDOW by Mary Wiggins, M.Div. Middler

This reflection is one of four offered at the re-dedication of the central stained glass window in the Loehe Chapel at Wartburg Theological Seminary on 4 Feb. 2013.

Stained glass windows have always fascinated me. They are beautiful art regardless of how well known their maker is. There is something mystical about light mixed with color and steeped with symbolism and history. The windows are a beautiful interplay of the creation of people and the creation of our God. Their beauty changes with the turning of the day into something new. It’s something great to contemplate when sorting out deep emotions and discerning dense thoughts. Or something to just stare at when the mind is tired or the attention span is short. All in something as simple as a window. The window we welcome back today does that for us and even more. It is part of our life here. The image of Christ points outward beyond our view, symbolizing our formation.

I first glanced at the chapel window when I was discerning a call to ministry. I saw a photograph of the image on a computer screen of my friend’s Macbook. It was strikingly beautiful even in its 8 by 10 inch form. What was more strikingly beautiful was how this image was the reminder of this place that my friend took with her way out west for her internship. Such love and passion for this place, Wartburg, was represented in the image she saw almost every day in her life in this place.

I myself soon saw the window in person as my discernment lead to a “GO and start visiting seminary and see if the time is right.” This window plays an important part in our life at Wartburg even before we become a part of this place. As a community that worships together daily, the chapel window’s image is ingrained in our experience, just as much as the other elements of the community in which we live.

The image of Christ summoning the disciples is our past

It is our present now here at Wartburg

Ultimately it is our future as we will eventually leave this place.

We will all “Go” and we will proclaim regardless of our degree track. Our callings to discern and embody our vocations lead us here. And this window upon which many a student has gazed during worship epitomizes our experience. We heed God’s call, pick up our lives and “GO” to Wartburg.

In our life here at Wartburg we pick up and “GO” quite often. We “GO” on J-term trips near and abroad with some of us proclaiming in words and others in actions of service and learning. We “GO” on CPE and proclaim the Gospel as the listening chaplain offering comforting presence and sometimes words to those in crisis that we meet. We “GO” on field work and internship and proclaim the Gospel. Each time we return again to this place. And eventually we all GO to Preach the Good News as the leaders that we have been formed to be.

GEHET HIN UND PREDIGT DAS EVANGELIUM By Rev. Jan Rippentrop, WTS Guest Professor of Preaching

This reflection is one of four offered at the re-dedication of the central stained glass window in the Loehe Chapel at Wartburg Theological Seminary on 4 Feb. 2013.

This phrase holds a privileged place in our midst as it maintains a significance in our worship space.
In one moment as backdrop to the elliptical centers of our worship life
(Word and sacrament)
In another moment as focus of our pondering attention
It is privileged in our space
As focus
As background
As constant
A space where we practice ways of peace
That gathering in prayer for the nations here might
translate into ministry that mourns the hoarding of
resources and celebrates the tearing down of walls
A space in which our feet, our hands, our brows
Have worn to lustrous the path to the table
And what is the impact of this phrase as it presides over these and more worshipping acts?
Whether you read German or not, this bannerrolle has been bodying
this window forth.
A banderole is the way that art, classically, marks a quotation
So, this window claims that Jesus has been speaking in
our midst all of these days
And we interpret and are interpreted by Christ’s words

So, Jesus is addressing our community day by day…with proclamation:
“Gehet hin und predigt das Evangelium”
(Go forth and preach the Good News)
Go forth—there’s no becoming stagnant in this space
This space where we gather, and gather, and gather
For baptisms, for weddings, for ordinary time
Paradoxically, this space that gathers us,
Gathers us, not to make us insular
But to face us out
Toward first calls
Toward field work and internships
Toward CPE

So, gehet hin
There is a semester ahead of us
With ideas as yet unpacked
Practices not yet familiar
And conversations waiting in the wings
And with the spirited movement that winged Jesus from the Jordan to the Wadi
With that spirited movement get gehet hin
For the Spirit that makes Christ known in the gospel preached
Is the Spirit who beckons you, gehet hin.

THE BEGINNING…OF WHAT? Sermon by Rev. Dr. Gwen Sayler, Professor, Wartburg Seminary

Text: Mark 1:1-5; Isa 52:7-10
Tired, dusty feet honed and callused by desert sand
A voice proclaiming hopeful and yet fearful tidings….Turn, turn your feet and your hearts…get ready for the in-breaking of the reign of God.
More feet–wet feet wading in the Jordan
Voices confessing sins, hearts awaiting the One to baptize in Spirit and in fire.
Fresh feet as yet unmarred by suffering, unblemished feet wading into the Jordan to be baptized by John;
A voice from heaven as the heaven rips: You are my Son, the Beloved; in you I am well-pleased.
Hot, tired feet driven into the wilderness, defiantly standing firm, refusing the temptation to stand down, massaged by the angelic host.
Energized, fleet feet on the move.
The voice of the One whose body those feet anchor speaking into being the in-breaking of God’s reign in word and deed, challenging the power of forces of evil allied against that reign.
Feet that before the story comes full circle will lead a rag tag bunch of followers on a circuitous route through Galilee and down to Jerusalem.
Feet—talented, tired, beautiful, battered, bruised feet nailed to a cross.
The sound of the temple curtain ripping; life-less feet carried down from the cross and buried in a tomb.
And then, silence.
Three days later…..fearful, frazzled feet furtively moving through shadows to the tomb, feet bearing women firmly determined to anoint the dead body one more time.
A voice crying out:
HE IS NOT HERE; HE IS RISEN. GO TELL THE DISCIPLES THAT THAT HE IS GOING BEFORE YOU TO GALILEE; THERE YOU WILL SEE HIM AS HE TOLD YOU.
The beginning of the story of Jesus Christ crucified and risen, footloose and fancy free, on the move into all the shadowy desert places where feet are shaky, the wildernesses where fears abound, frustrations frazzle, feet fall down—the broken places of our world, our bodies and our hearts as well.
The risen Christ, footloose and fancy free breaking through the very barriers that hold us back and tie us down and tempt us to stand down.
The risen Christ, footloose and fancy-free with life-giving, death-defying hope, love, and courage for God’s fearful, frazzled people of every time and every place
The beginning of what? The beginning of the new world-changing day to which you and I are invited—no, more that, the new world-changing day to which you and I are called and challenged and sent to participate.
It’s no secret that Mark’s Gospel ends as abruptly as it began.
Our last sight—that of the women running as fast as their fearful feet will take them leaves open the ending of the story because the story has not ended—it lives on in and through you and me and all God’s people of every time and every place.
Beautiful, talented, sometimes tired feet—your feet and mine. …. feet that have borne us through our joys and sorrows, our anxious days and those we have eagerly anticipated. …feet washed in the waters of baptism, bearing you, God’s beloved, talented daughter and son, you in whom God is well-pleased……
…..and yet sometimes, when work pushes us further than we think we can go or uncertainly weighs us down like a menacing cloud hanging over us or when death tries to do its worst, those beloved feet get downright battered and bruised.
But through it all, the voice continues to ring: He is not here….he is risen….go and tell. Jesus the risen Christ, footloose and fancy free on the move for and to and through you and me.
The risen Christ, footloose and fancy free, on the move walking on our sometimes tumultuous roadways with us, massaging our battered feet and bruised spirits, making himself known in bread and wine, fueling our spirits and energizing our tired feet with God’s very own life-giving, life-sustaining power for today and tomorrow and every day ahead.
Jesus the risen Christ, footloose and fancy free, on the move refreshing and renewing, energizing and equipping beautiful, talented, tired feet for the mission to which their bearers are called.
The ancient prophetic oracle, spoken originally to give confidence and courage to exiles whose tired, talented beautiful feet were about to get to go back home says it so well : “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the one who brings good tidings, who publishes peace, who brings good tidings, causing us to hear salvation.”
Jesus Christ, crucified and risen footloose and fancy free, entering into the shadowy places of our lives and our world with light and love and peace…..energizing our feet for the ministries to which we are called…………

What more can we add to that except to thank God for God’s inexpressible Gift. Amen.

CHRISTIAN UNITY by Jennifer Dahle, M.Div. Jr.

Segment of a sermon Jennifer  wrote for a prayer service centered on Christian unity. Her sermon was chosen to be given in Oklahoma City this past spring.

Text: I Cor. 15:51-58.

“Listen! I will tell you a mystery.”  A mystery that will happen in the twinkling of an eye, a mystery filled with trumpet blasts and the raising of the dead to immortality, a mystery filled with the transformation of the living, when corrupted flesh is made incorruptible and the power of death, sin, is broken forever. In that moment God will fully reveal Godself, and we will eternally live out our new identity in Christ. This mystery contains an ending that is so wonderful it is beyond our wildest imaginings! BUT, while we are caught up in our contemplation of this future moment we must not forget that our mystery, just like all mysteries, begins with a death, the death of Jesus Christ. Jesus’ death is the key to our future transformation and our starting point when speaking of Christian unity.

I recently had an opportunity to visit Taize, France, a community that invites young people, year round, from all around the globe, to partake in worship, reflection, and work. Take, for instance, the story of Sebastian, a 17 year old boy from Chile who is studying abroad in Prague, and decided to visit Taize. One evening I found myself discussing with Sebastian the similarities and differences between the Lutheran and Evangelical churches. For Sebastian, this was a sensitive subject because in Chile there is a great divide between the two and tensions are high. He constantly finds himself put down by his family and friends because he enjoys worshipping at both churches while they do not. When I asked him if Prague was any better, he said it was worse. Beautiful churches sit virtually empty on almost every corner because most of the population is atheist. According to Sebastian, the people of Prague become very angry when you try to speak with them about God. In fact, the other young people he goes to school with in Prague spent the better part of a month calling him dirty names because of his Christian beliefs and his desire to talk about them.

It was at Taize that Sebastian experienced peace, love, and reconciliation, and he felt renewed. No one at Taize cared what church he attended. No one refused to speak with him about faith and God, nor did they avoid his questions. He found himself surrounded by young people whose primary concern was living for a short time in community with other Christians, other seekers, and other young people searching for a place where they were accepted without question. All that was asked of him was to help keep the bathrooms clean. Sebastian was content to join in the prayer of the brothers and found joy living in communion, united with his brothers and sisters in Christ.

  After visiting Taize, I found myself asking the question, why is ecumenism so easy at Taize, and so hard for the rest of us? Especially when you consider that all Christian denominations recognize the importance of Christ’s actions: his life, death, and resurrection. We agree that it is through Christ that we will undergo this mystery of transformation that Paul speaks of. We trust in Christ. I wonder, however, if we have a tendency to put our trust in our own traditions and denominations over and above the Word of Jesus Christ. In today’s text, Paul claims that “the sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.” Our persistence in creating distinctions amongst ourselves can take our attention from God and hinder the unity that God wants us to embrace.

 A man I spoke with at the World Council of Churches in Geneva said that it is our job as churches, in terms of creating unity, to “plant the seeds of the trees under whose shade we may never sit.”  We work together now for justice and peace, all the while knowing that “nothing we do here on earth affects what God has already done for us.”

God gives us victory through Christ. We don’t earn it and we definitely don’t deserve it, but we are free. Free to serve the Lord who is in the poor, the sick, the elderly, and the oppressed. We are free to live in community with each other. This is the good news. God loves us in spite of ourselves, and continues to work in us and through us. The incarnate Jesus Christ disrupts and ultimately breaks the power of sin and death on our behalf. This truth is what we keep at the center of our prayer for unity as we follow our call to move forward, to be in communion with each other, and to seek Jesus in the broken places of this world, as he seeks us.