Good Friday Reflections, Mark 14:66-72

by Steve Harsh, posted in Lenten devotion, prayer, Sermon

There are several things I don’t like about going to the gym to work out – the effort it takes to get there, the slim and trim young men who make me look bad, and the swimmers in the pool who do laps twice as fast and twice as many as I can. But the number one objection I have to the gym are the mirrors everywhere. They keep showing me this old man looking back at me!!  I think he’s stalking me!

Lent and Good Friday do the same thing if we are brave enough to look in the mirror. 40 days ago many of us got a smudge of ashes on our foreheads and heard those ultimate words of reality “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” And now the Good Friday narrative holds poor old bumbling, human Peter up to us as a mirror of ourselves. Peter is the ultimate fallible human being. He is the poster child for St. Paul’s confession in Romans 7:15 where he says, “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.”

Denise Gorden shared this picture with the Coffee Talk group a few weeks ago.  This is artist James Tissot’s depiction of what Jesus’ view from the cross on that dark Friday might have looked like.  Last Sunday Rev. Wayne Nicholson reminded us that we often read the Bible to find ourselves in there.  Well this picture is a great example of that.  Who’s there around the cross?  According to John’s Gospel the most faithful and brave ones are up close and personal – three Marys: Jesus’ mother Mary, Mary of Clopas (Mary’s sister-in-law), Mary Magdalene, and John, described as “the beloved disciple.”

Others are there who had cheered Jesus entry into Jerusalem just 5 days earlier – some who have turned against him, maybe out of fear of the Romans, and cried out for Jesus to be crucified instead of the criminal Barabbas.  Others who are rubber-neckers who just want to see what’s going on, and some who are ambivalent and curious who just want to see if Jesus is the real deal and might be rescued by a host of heavenly angels. 

But it’s also important to notice who’s not there – Peter, and most of the other disciples, unless they’re hiding in the back where the Romans or the religious leaders won’t see them.

Do you see yourself there?  What would have brought you to Calvary on that dark Friday?  As the choir just asked us, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord?”            

But regardless who is there at the cross, there’s one thing we know for sure about everyone, they are all fallible human beings.  St. Paul says it plainly in Romans 3:23: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” All means all; no exceptions.  We are all guilty as charged of being fallible human beings, and Peter and the other disciples are the mirrors that remind us, like it or not, that we are among the fallible. We don’t like that role – we want to be heroines or heroes, not examples of fallibility or weakness!

That idea struck me a couple of weeks ago at a meeting of our men’s group called “Men Under Construction,” another way of saying we’re all fallible and God isn’t finished with us yet.  Pastor Roger Gorden, who leads that group, described it this way.  He said, “Peter gets in the way of Jesus.”  Peter gets in the way of Jesus!  Isn’t that what we do when Jesus asks more of us than we can or want to live up to? When Jesus says, “Take up your cross and follow me” or “If you love your family more than me you aren’t worthy of me,” those aren’t great recruiting slogans.

At one point earlier in the Gospel story Peter literally gets in Jesus’ way. When Jesus tries to explain to the disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and be crucified, Peter says, “No way, Lord. We can’t let you do that!” And Jesus has to reprimand Peter and tell him, “Get behind me Satan.” That sounds awful, but it’s not if we remember that Jesus doesn’t need or want fair weather friends, he wants brave followers, and in order to follow someone you have to get – that’s right, behind them.

It’s hard to follow someone if we think we know a short cut or easier way to go, and especially hard when carrying a cross.

“Are Ye Able, said the Master, to be crucified with me?  Yea, the sturdy dreamers answer, to the death we follow Thee.”  All of the Gospels contain the dialogue between Jesus and Peter at the Last Supper where Jesus predicts Peter will deny him, and Peter responds emphatically, “If I must die with you, I will not deny you. And all the disciples said the same.” But when push comes to shove 90% of them aren’t there for Jesus, and Peter says, “No way – not me, I never met the guy.” Not once, but 3 times!

But here’s the deal.  We’re not here to judge or blame Peter and the other disciples for what they did or didn’t do 2000 years ago.  That’s ancient history.  Remember the disciples are in the Gospel narratives as reflections of you and me.  They are there to invite us to ask the really hard questions.  How do we, you and I, deny we even know Jesus today?  When we look in the mirror on the wall what do we see that we try to hide from other people and even from God.  Good luck with that one, by the way!  What sins of omission and commission gnaw at our consciences when we can’t sleep at night?  As Jesus reminds us, we can’t focus on the speck in Peter’s eye when we’ve still got a big old two-by-four in our own.

I identify with Peter because I hate conflict.  I will take a five-mile detour to avoid an argument or awkward situation.  That’s why Jonah is one of my favorite biblical characters.  I can relate.  When God tells Jonah to go preach behind enemy lines in Nineveh Jonah hops the first boat going in the exact opposite direction.  That would be like one of us getting called to go witness to the people in Tehran today!  I’d probably say, “Sorry, God, you’ve got a wrong number.”

OK, let’s consider some more practical, everyday choices we might have to make.  One person standing up for someone who is being bullied may stop the cruelty, and even if it doesn’t both the victim and the protector feel the priceless solidarity of friendship. One or two men refusing to laugh at a sexiest or racist joke, or a woman saying no to an unethical business practice can empower others to do the same.

Doing what is right but unpopular is one of the hardest things to do because it puts at risk our own comfort and safety. But what each one of us chooses to do or not do does make a difference.

The familiar quote, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good people to do nothing” sums up much of what I’m trying to say. As we all know it takes courage to do the right thing when it is so much easier to go along with the crowd. My favorite quote to describe that is from the play about the famous Scopes monkey trial, “Inherit the Wind”: Defense attorney Henry  Drummond says to Bert Cates who is on trial for teaching evolution: “It’s the loneliest feeling in the world to find yourself standing up when everybody else is sitting down.”  [repeat]

And to make matters worse, it’s not just individual actions that matter.  The mirror here is facing you as a congregation because our collective sins are even more important than individual ones.  What’s done in the name of the church, or our government, or any other group we belong to-we bear responsibility for that group’s actions and are called to stand up for what’s right and just and true.  

But – we need to shift gears here.  Lent and Holy Week are times for soul searching, facing the reality of who we see in the mirror.  But the crucifixion and betrayal and denial are not the end of the story and we dare not forget that or we will be overcome with our own guilt and denial. It’s Friday – but Easter’s coming.

Peter denies Jesus 3 times!!! That would be very hard for any of us to forgive!  It’s bad enough if a friend, a best friend, like Peter was, betrays us once, but 3 times?  How could anyone forgive that!  But Jesus isn’t just anyone.  When this same disciple, Peter, asks Jesus earlier in Matthew’s Gospel how many times he should forgive someone who sins against him, as many as 7?  Jesus says no, 70 times 7.  

And of course Jesus practices what he preaches.  He not only forgives those who nailed him to the cross; he also forgives poor old Peter.  I don’t want to steal the thunder of any Easter sermons, but you already know this; so I don’t think it’s a spoiler alert. Remember it is Peter who is the one Jesus designates as the Rock upon which he will build his church! Peter, the denier, the stumbling block – Peter who is the stand in for us in the Good Friday story, the reflection of our own faithlessness.  Yes, that Peter is ultimately the redeemed and forgiven one – just like you and me

Do you remember the line from Snow White – “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”  The wicked queen keeps asking the mirror the same question because she never likes the answer she gets. The mirror keeps telling her the fairest is Snow White.  Likewise we often don’t like what we see when we honestly examine our lives in a spiritual mirror. 

Mirrors don’t lie.  So Peter’s multiple failures on Good Friday can be an important time of growth on our faith journey if we are brave enough to really see ourselves reflected in Peter.  And here’s the good news –we can look in the mirror and see only our faults and shortcomings, our fallibility, our mortality – OR we can look deeper and also see the very one Jesus is counting on to build the kingdom. 

Why does God choose the likes of us to build the kingdom? Because fallible human beings are all Jesus has to work with.  So tonight and tomorrow we mourn our own guilt and responsibility for denying Jesus, but on Sunday we will rise with him to begin anew the absolutely critical work of following Jesus to the cross.   We can do that because when we get behind and follow a risen Savior our faith is stronger than our fear. 

Please pray with me:

Dear Creator and Sustainer of all that is good, just, and true, we are living in very sad times. The foolishness of war is robbing your neediest children of food and health care here at home and raining terror and destruction on the Middle East. You have called us to love our neighbors and our enemies. You have taught us that a few courageous people can make a difference. Give us courage to stand up when no one else can or will. Renew a right spirit within us. Show us how we can most faithfully be among those who refuse to deny you. Keep us near the cross and the one who died there for the Peter in all of us. Amen

Northwest United Methodist Church, April 3, 2026

You Can Make a Difference

by Steve Harsh, posted in brokenness, Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith Development, hope

Genesis 18:22-33: So the men turned from there and went toward Sodom, while Abraham remained standing before the Lord. Then Abraham came near and said, “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will you then sweep away the place and not forgive it for the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?”  And the Lord said, “If I find at Sodom fifty righteous in the city, I will forgive the whole place for their sake.” Abraham answered, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to my lord, I who am but dust and ashes.  Suppose five of the fifty righteous are lacking? Will you destroy the whole city for lack of five?” And he said, “I will not destroy it if I find forty-five there.”  Again he spoke to him, “Suppose forty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of forty I will not do it.”  Then he said, “Oh, do not let my lord be angry if I speak. Suppose thirty are found there.” He answered, “I will not do it, if I find thirty there.”  He said, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to my lord. Suppose twenty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of twenty I will not destroy it.” Then he said, “Oh, do not let my lord be angry if I speak just once more. Suppose ten are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it.” And the Lord went his way, when he had finished speaking to Abraham, and Abraham returned to his place.”

In these days when it feels so hopeless to to make a difference this story about the threatened destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah speaks to us about the power of each good life. Abraham bravely negotiates with God to try and spare whatever righteous people there may be in these two cities.

Disclaimer: I do not believe the God of grace I know punishes evil by inflicting destruction on individuals or whole cities, although there are times I wish it were so (as long I’m not the guilty party, of course). But that doesn’t mean there isn’t some deeper truth in the story.

For example, what if there were a few brave people had stood up to President George W. Bush in 2003 and demanded proof of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq before committing our troops to a long deadly war? Or what if a handful of founding fathers had stood firm against slavery in 1787 instead of kicking the can down the road to the deadliest war in our history 75 years later?

One child siding with another who is being bullied can stop the cruelty, and even if not both the victim and the protector feel the priceless solidarity of friendship. One or two men refusing to laugh at a sexiest or racist joke, or go along with an unethical business practice can empower others to do the same.

Those who have read Genesis know the unfortunate fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. Apparently Abraham couldn’t find even 10 righteous men, and the two cities were destroyed.

As an aside, I can’t pass on from this story about Sodom and Gomorrah without pointing out a serious misuse of this text which in some circles is used as a condemnation of homosexuality. That charge is not justified by the text and is clarified later in Ezekiel 16:49 where we find: “This was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease but did not aid the poor and needy.” That makes so much more sense because it is consistent with the constant emphasis in all the Scriptures to care for the widows and orphans, to love one’s neighbors as oneself, and Jesus’ stark admonition in Matthew 25 that “just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it me.”

How often are those same weaknesses in Sodom and Gomorrah the source of our failure to do the right thing, even when we know clearly what we should do. Excess of food and prosperous ease are symbols of comfort and privilege that we Americans should pay careful attention to. Doing what is right but unpopular is one of the hardest things to do because it puts at risk our own comfort and safety. But what we choose to do or not do does make a difference.

The familiar quote, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing” sums up much of what I’m trying to say. (My research says this quote is often attributed to Edmund Burke but may actually be a paraphrase of similar words from John Stuart Mill.

As we all know it takes courage to do the right thing when it is so much easier to go along with the crowd. My favorite quote to describe that is from “Inherit the Wind” by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee:

Attorney Drummond says to Bert Cates who is on trial for teaching evolution: “It’s the loneliest feeling in the world-to find yourself standing up when everybody else is sitting down. To have everybody look at you and say, ‘What’s the matter with him?’ I know. I know what it feels like. Walking down an empty street, listening to the sound of your own footsteps. Shutters closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against you. And you aren’t sure whether you’re walking toward something, or if you’re just walking away.”

But those acts of courage make a huge difference, just as they might have in Sodom and Gomorrah. But that is ancient history. What matters now are the moments today when we are asked to take a stand for righteousness and justice when everyone else is sitting down.

There are so many injustices it feels overwhelming to even try to pick one to address; I know it certainly does to me. But that cannot be our excuse to sit on the sidelines. For me there is also a very real fear of incurring the wrath of those in power if I speak up against them. I wrote a paper in grad school entitled “They Shoot Prophets, Don’t They?,” and the recent murders of Renee Good and Alex Pretti in Minneapolis have done nothing to lessen that fear.

I have never liked conflict of any kind; so speaking truth to power is way out of my comfort zone. But my despair over what’s happening to our democracy is stronger than my fear. I am reminded of the closing scene of Shakespeare’s “King Lear” where the bodies of all the main characters are strewn across the stage and Edgar alone is left to bring down the curtain. He says, “The weight of these sad times we must obey; say what we feel, not what we ought to say.”

Dear Creator and Sustainer of all that is good, just, and true, we are living in very sad times. Unjustified, unconstitutional war is robbing your neediest children of food and health care here at home and raining terror and destruction in the Middle East. You have called us to love our neighbors and our enemies. You have taught us that a few righteous, courageous people do make a difference. Give us courage to stand up when no one else can or will, to speak what we feel and not what the powerful tell us we ought to say. You have put a right spirit within us. Show us how we can most faithfully let that holy light shine into the darkness of this season of our lives until others join us and together our lights expose the evil around us and within us and drive it from our midst in a blaze of resurrection. Amen

Temptation: Fall or Faith?

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith Development, Gratitude, Lectionary Texts, Lenten devotion

The lectionary texts for the first Sunday in Lent this year include Genesis 3:1-7 (“The Fall”) and Matthew 4:1-11(the Temptation of Christ). What a perfect contrast these two Scriptures give us of human frailty and divine strength. In the former Eve and Adam fall like a ton of bricks for a couple of lies from a talking snake! And in the latter the New Testament version of the serpent promises Jesus food (after a 40-day fast!), divine glory and protection (for bungee jumping off the temple without a bungee), and worldly power (over all the kingdoms of the world, including Greenland and Venezuela).

And Jesus, with impeccable theology, politely tells Satan to go fly a kite all three times. And, of course, Peter reprises human frailty again at the end of this drama by denying Jesus three times. Adam, Eve, and Peter all are marked with the Ash Wednesday reminder that we are all dust, and to dust we will return. But Jesus is the Way, Truth, and Life.

These stories remind me of my need again this Lent to examine and resist by own human weaknesses; to be a little less fearful and self-centered, and more faithful to the sacred burden I carry as one created in the image of God. “I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24)

Nadia Bolz-Weber has shared in her Substack that she is going to observe Lent this year by looking for and recording 40 days of good “stuff,” which if you know Nadia you know she describes that exercise more graphically! As a glass-half-empty kind of person I need all the help with gratitude I can get, especially in these days of doom-scrolling doldrums. So I have decided to launch my own discipline of being aware of at least one good or beautiful thing each day of Lent.

My good stuff for today was seeing a beautiful red headed woodpecker at our bird feeder. The big red head is a gorgeous bird, and I feel especially blessed that we see one fairly regularly at our house. The habitat for the big woodpeckers is being destroyed by urban sprawl, but at least for now we still have enough wooded land around us that the developers haven’t snarfed up that we get to enjoy this one I call Woody. The bad news is he/she doesn’t stay at our feeder very long; so I wasn’t able to get a picture today.

I googled the Red Headed Woodpecker today just for fun and was rewarded with some great Lenten news. What I found is that for some indigenous people the RHW represents the spiritual values of determination, strength, and perseverance. Those seem like exactly the values lacking in the Genesis 3 story which are on full display in Jesus’ replies to Satan in the wilderness.

Humans in paradise still aren’t satisfied with all the blessings they have and are greedy for more. But the Son of God, starving in the wilderness, knows that faith alone is enough to get us through any and all trials and tribulations life throws at us.

Transfiguration: Surrender, Let It Go

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Christian Discipleship, Faith Development, Lectionary Texts, Lenten devotion, purpose, self-care, Transfiguration

As church tradition dictates our excellent sermon today by Pastor Mebane McMahon on this last Sunday before Lent was based on the Transfiguration story in Luke 9.  My takeaway today after hearing this text from one of the synoptic Gospels annually for at least 57 years was the need to surrender my great desire to cling to glory and homestead on the mountaintop. 

We all need special moments of spiritual inspiration more than ever these days, but Jesus followers can’t stay on the mountain top.  Jesus sets his face toward Jerusalem, straight back into the valley of the shadow of death, and yes, he says, “deny yourself, take up your cross and follow me!”

Of all the hard things I wish Jesus hadn’t said, that’s one of the toughest for sure.  For me right now as I prepare to enter my 80th season of Lent, one of the hardest things for me to surrender is my overwhelming desire to go back – back to a time when I could carry a bundle of shingles up a ladder onto a roof.  Or back to a time when I could run 5 miles in under 40 minutes, or even just walk out to my mailbox without pain.  Every time I see a recent picture of myself unable to stand up straight I want to give up all photo ops for Lent.

I’ve never been a great athlete, but I have enjoyed participating in a good variety of sports over the years. I know it can’t happen, but I would sure love to soak in the view one more time before skiing down from the top of Peak 9 at Breckenridge in Colorado, or enjoy the fellowship of playing one more game with my old church softball team, or a rousing game of basketball with my son. Those memories are wonderful, but they will never replace actually being there. So I don’t want to accept those days are no more.

Diana and I had the pleasure of attending a wonderful high school performance of the Broadway musical version of “Frozen” yesterday in which our great niece Ava Tobin starred as Elsa. The whole performance was amazing, but Ava’s powerful rendition of the song “Let It Go” moved me the most. And it tied in beautifully with the Transfiguration story’s message to let go of the glory of the mountain top and follow Jesus into the valley of Lent.

One of the lines in “Let It Go” says “the past is past,” and that is part of surrendering for me. I’m not the 40 year-old runner or skier or softball player I was 40 years ago. That past is past, and I need to let it go so I can live fully in the present reality of my 79 year-old body.

There’s a breath prayer I learned a few months ago that I’ve been wrestling with ever since. It says, “Show me who to be, and what is mine to do.” I keep meditating on that, but what I’ve heard so far as I pray that prayer is this: I am to be the best Jesus follower I can be, and what that looks like changes with the seasons of life.

I can’t preach much anymore or teach classes. I don’t have the stamina to do that. I can’t go to protests and marches because I can’t stand or walk for any length of time. But I can still read and learn and share my ideas and insights through my writing.

When I get depressed about all the things I can’t do anymore I have no energy to do the things I can still do; so I need to let the past be past and let it go.

I am reluctant to share this as I don’t want to boast, but I got a notification recently from Word Press, the site that hosts my blog, that since I launched this blog in 2011 there have been 100,000 views of my posts. I am humbled by that number and by the fact that those views have come from dozens of countries on 6 continents. 

I have no idea how those 100K readers have responded to anything I’ve written except for few comments I’ve gotten over the years.  My hope is that it’s like the parable of the sower. We scatter our seeds and never know where or how the seeds grow.

That’s true of teaching, preaching, ministry, and just life. We don’t know what influence our words and actions have on others. All we can do is speak and live our truth to the best of our ability because it is right thing to do and trust God to do the rest. That’s surrender!!! 

Let it go! The past is past.  Forgive recklessly, including oneself.  Love foolishly, including oneself, and walk humbly seeking no glory or riches – just integrity.  

“Go With Full Throttle Up!”

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, hope, mission, peacemaking, spiritual discipline

My mind is blown this week to be reminded that it has been 40 years since the Challenger space shuttle tragically exploded killing all seven people aboard. I was driving up US route 23 to a meeting at the Methodist Theological School in Delaware, Ohio when I heard the news on my car radio.  That was half a lifetime ago, but as a lifelong fan of space flight and exploration I remember it like yesterday.

 For the 40 years since I have cherished a very powerful and concrete image from that disaster of what it means to have faith and be at home in the universe. Part of being at peace is an ability to find meaning and truth in unexpected and even tragic circumstances. For me, the final words from Commander Dick Scobee before the explosion have become a mantra for me of peaceful living. About sixty seconds after blast off Mission Control informed the Challenger crew that they were going back to full power, and Commander Scobee’s confident reply was, “Roger, Go With Full Throttle Up.”


When we are at peace we dare to live life with full throttle up, knowing as those astronauts did that there are serious risks in living. We also know also that there are far more serious risks in refusing to face life’s challenges honestly and courageously. Chuck Yeager, a test pilot famous for his description of those early space pioneers who had “All the Right Stuff,” said after the Challenger explosion that “every astronaut and test pilot knows that such a tragedy can happen anytime you go up. But you can’t dwell on the danger or you would not be able to do your job.” Then he added, “There’s not much you can do about it anyway.”


Life is like that. We are all travelers on spaceship Earth, and like the Challenger 7, we are all sitting on enough firepower to blow us all to kingdom come several times over. That’s enough in itself to make us a little queasy isn’t it, even if we didn’t have to cope with the routine hassles of living—the doubts, the fears, the guilt, and the disappointments. But we all do have to cope with those things every day and much more these days.  And we all need a faith that will help us feel more at home and at peace in the midst of our hectic, frightening, and often chaotic lives.

And simple belief in long-held maxims is not enough for times of real testing.  Belief is holding certain ideas about something, or about life. Faith, on the other hand, is a more total and deeper response of inner peace and trust. For example, it is one thing to believe a parachute will open properly, to understand the physics of why and how parachutes work. But it is quite another thing to have enough faith or trust in a parachute to strap one on your back and jump out of a plane at 10,000 feet.


Faith, according to theologian Wilfred Cantwell Smith, is “a quality of human living. At its best it has taken the form of serenity and courage and loyalty and service: a quiet confidence and joy which enable one to feel at home in the universe, and to find meaning in the world and in one’s own life, a meaning that is profound and ultimate, and is stable no matter what may happen.”
To be at peace means to “feel at home in the universe,” to know as the “Desiderata” says, that “You are a child of the universe, no less than the rocks the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive God to be….and keep peace with your soul.” To be at peace at home in the universe is to be at peace with oneself and God.

I want to pick a bone with one phrase from that quote above.  I am certainly not convinced the universe is unfolding as it should.  Not one bit convinced, and that means it takes even more guts and faith just now to say, “Roger, go with full throttle up.”

That’s how I want to live my life, whatever the circumstances, full throttle up! I’m painfully aware that for my body’s full throttle is a whole lot slower than it was 40 years ago, or even 5 years ago; but my the Holy Spirit is still infinitely more powerful than that Saturn V rocket that launched so many astronauts into space. Full throttle doesn’t even get my old bones off the ground, but with God’s help my spirit can soar.

That’s what Jesus came to show us, that no matter what happens to us or around us, we have the power of the Holy Spirit to live life fully and abundantly. So wherever God calls us to go this week, my prayer is that we can respond with confidence and faith, and go with full throttle up!

Time to Stand Up and Be Counted

by Steve Harsh, posted in brokenness, Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values, Government Reform, spiritual discipline

Twice in my ministry that I know of I had parishioners complain to church superiors about political issues I took a stand on. I’m embarrassed by that, not about those two incidents, but ashamed there weren’t a lot more of them.

When people argue that pastors shouldn’t express political opinions that usually means they disagree with said opinions. 

It also means they don’t understand how political Jesus and the biblical prophets were. Not to mention that pastors are citizens too with equal rights to their own opinions.

Some would add those opinions must be expressed outside their role as pastor. But the problem with that approach is that clergy are really never able to step outside their ordination vows and be just a normal citizen. Clergy as spokespersons for God are constantly in the crucible where secular and sacred clash.

I say that now because the United States is at a very critical crossroads in our history. We are on the verge of civil war because of the brutal and unjust occupation of Minneapolis by thugs posing as federal law enforcement agents. No one operating outside the bounds of federal law and Constitutional safeguards can claim law enforcement authority. 

Today another American citizen, a VA nurse no less, was gunned down while simply trying to hold these vigilantes accountable by taking pictures of their activities. If ICE is operating within the law why would they object to photographic evidence of what they are doing? Or why do they hide their identity behind masks? 

The ICE occupation of Minneapolis is just one symptom of Donald Trump’s Emperor Complex. His appetite for raw power is insatiable – from Venezuela to Gaza to Greenland he is trying to assert his faux power at the cost of destabilizing the world’s balance of power.

He enjoys destroying things like NATO, the East Wing, and the Constitution just to prove he can.
The biblical scene this dangerous farce calls to mind is the temptation of Jesus in the wilderness at the beginning of his ministry. In particular Satan’s third temptation reminds me of Trump’s and any dictator’s moment of truth.

Matthew’s Gospel tells it this way: “Again, the devil took him (Jesus) to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory, and he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’ ” Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.” (4:8-11)

We know what Jesus did in that moment of testing. Without hesitation he sent Satan packing with a clear statement of his core beliefs. By contrast I think we all know what kind of transactional deal Donald Trump would make given that offer of world domination. Never mind that the one offering the deal is as phony as a three dollar bill.

More importantly however is this question: what would I do if tempted like that? Will I go along with cruelty and injustice so I can keep my privileged and comfortable life? Or will I speak up for God’s ways of truth, justice and mercy in whatever way I can? Will I keep contacting my cowardly congressional reps or give up because they have been accomplices with injustice so far? Will I keep hope alive for the salvation of our democratic way of life or throw up my hands in surrender?

There’s a great line in the play “Inherit the Wind” where Henry Drummond tells Bert Cates “It’s the loneliest feeling in the world – to find yourself standing up when everybody else is sitting down. To have everybody look at you and say, ‘What’s the matter with him?'” But that is exactly what Jesus calls us to do when he says, “Take up your cross and follow me.” (Matthew 16:24 and Luke 9:23). 

And that choice is not new with Jesus or Bert Cates or you and me today. Way back in the history of the Hebrew people there is such a moment where the refugees from Egypt are about to enter the Promised Land, and their leader Joshua challenges them with these words, just as God challenges us today:

“Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living, but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” (Joshua 24:15)

That’s not an idle or ancient question. It’s as current and urgent as the blood stains in the snow of Minneapolis. Whom will we choose to serve?

Be Still and Know

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics, Faith and Values, Faith Development, Sermon, spiritual discipline

I haven’t written anything yet in 2026 because I’ve been too depressed and angry about what’s going on in our country and world to muster enough energy to think, let alone write. I knew I am not alone in those feelings, but it felt strangely comforting when I read these words this morning from one of my heroines in the faith, Nadia Bolz-Weber. Nadia wrote, “I woke up wanting to write something that might be of help right now and I’m all tapped out. I got nothing.” She shared instead some modern Beatitudes she had written 10 years ago which were helpful and worth hearing again.

Fortunately for me I agreed weeks ago to preach this Sunday at a local retirement community, and that commitment forced me to wrestle with my faith and my doubts, and here’s what the Spirit has led me to prepare for that worship service.

When I told a friend I was preaching here at 3 pm he said, “Isn’t that nap time for old folks?”  If it is for you we’ll wake you when we’re done!  And then ironically shortly thereafter I saw an interesting article about something many of us remember from childhood.  How many of you remember pulling out your rug or blanket and lying down in kindergarten while soothing music played on the record player? 

The article is called “When We Taught Children How To Rest – And Then Forgot It Mattered.”  I don’t know the author,but he or she makes some important points I want to share with you. 

“For millions of children growing up in the 1950s, ’60s, and early ’70s, this ritual was as essential to kindergarten as finger paint and the alphabet. It wasn’t filler. It wasn’t babysitting.

It was the lesson. Stillness Was Once Part of the Curriculum

Educators believed something we’ve slowly forgotten: young children need quiet.

Not just sleep—but stillness.

A pause where feelings could settle. A space where overstimulated minds could wander safely.

The science agreed. Children’s brains and nervous systems were still under construction. Rest wasn’t a reward. It wasn’t optional. It was developmental maintenance.

Then We Decided to Hurry.  By the 1970s and ’80s, something shifted.

Kindergarten stopped being about socialization and curiosity and started being about readiness.

Pre-reading. Early math. Staying on track. Getting ahead.

Schedules tightened. Testing crept younger. Parents worried about falling behind before childhood had even properly begun.  Naptime began to feel inefficient.  Unproductive.

A luxury we could no longer afford.

And we act surprised when childhood anxiety soars.  Naptime wasn’t just about sleep. It taught us that rest has value, that quiet has purpose, that you don’t have to be productive every minute to be worthy……  We once dimmed the lights, put on a record, and gave twenty small people permission to just be.  Maybe it’s time we remembered how.”

A few weeks ago when we had that lovely warm October God reminded me of that wisdom.  After worship I spent some time praying in the beautiful outdoor chapel that we have at Northwest UMC, and the words that came to me were “Be still and know that I am God.” I have meditated on those words many times in the days and weeks since, seeking the balm they offer in the chaotic world we inhabit just now.

I am embarrassed to admit that I didn’t remember where those words come from in Scripture until I googled them. They are of course in verse 10 of the Psalm we just read, and the opening verses set the scene powerfully for having faith to be still when life is literally crumbling around us.

The psalm begins with these words:

“1 God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
    though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea,”

Scholars believe those words were written as the armies of Assyria were besieging the city of Jerusalem in 701 BCE.  Many of us can relate today.  We feel under siege from bodies that are feeling the slings and arrows of the aging process.  Or that the very values we thought our country was founded on are under attack, and we feel helpless to do anything about it.

How can we not wonder if God really is our help and refuge? Where is God’s help in this all too real time of trouble?  As I typed those words originally for a blog I write, and I’m not making this up, a notification popped up on the top of my iPad screen that said “Don’t Stop Believein’!” “Don’t Stop Believin’!”  I literally looked around to see if Big Brother or someone was reading over my shoulder!  It was spooky, but even more real than the message I heard that day in the chapel that said to be still and know I’m God.

As it turns out that message was a notification on my iPad advertising that the rock band Journey who sing “Don’t Stop Believin’” is coming to do a concert in Columbus next summer, but the timing of that message seemed way too relevant to be just a coincidence.

And that is what the psalmist is saying to the besieged, hopeless folks in Jerusalem surrounded by the mighty armies of King Sennacherib of Assyria.  Don’t stop believing!

God says, be still and know I am God, which implies the rest of that sentence – I’m God and you’re not.  So trust me.  I got you out of Egypt and through the wilderness, and I’ll get you out of this mess too.  But like us the people of Israel don’t always get it.  In my imagination I can picture God, like any frustrated parent, wanting to say, “Shut up and Listen!”

Every age has its moments of siege.  “A Mighty Fortress” that we sang earlier was written based on this Psalm by Martin Luther in about 1527-29 when he was under terrible persecution from the Roman Catholic Church and the Holy Roman Empire.

After Luther refused to retract his writings, Pope Leo X issued a papal bull excommunicating him in 1521. 

Luther was summoned before the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V and the imperial assembly, where he famously refused to recant his views, leading to his condemnation. 

The Edict of Worms (also in 1521)declared Luther an outlaw, banned his writings, and made it a crime to harbor him, with punishment for heresy being burning at the stake. 

To protect him, Prince Frederick the Wise of Saxony arranged for Luther to be “kidnapped” and taken to Wartburg Castle for his safety, where he translated the New Testament into German.

Even as Luther was protected, his supporters faced severe repercussions, including loss of jobs, imprisonment, and execution, as persecution against Lutherans intensified across the Holy Roman Empire. And through all of this people sang “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” which became known as the Battle Hymn of the Reformation.

The most powerful words in that hymn for me are, “The body they may kill, God’s truth abideth still.”  That was true in 1528; it’s true today; and it will never change.  That is what it means to be still and know that God is God.  God’s in charge and will prevail in God’s good time – not ours.  And because of that we can still pull out our blankets,   put on some soothing music and sleep in the heavenly peace of innocent five-year-olds. 

Benediction:

Because of God’s ultimate rule of the whole universe, no matter how bad things seem at this or any moment, personal or in history, we can“Be still, and know that I am God!    I am exalted among the nations;    I am exalted in the earth.” The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.”  Today, tomorrow, and Forever.  Amen

The Original Christmas Carol: Mary’s Magnificat

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Christmas, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowly state of his servant.    

Surely from now on all generations will call me blessed,
for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name;
indeed, his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their throne and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.” (Luke 1:46-53)

Those famous words we call The Magnificat are some of the most profound and radical part of the Christmas story. They are often ignored because of the discomfort they cause for us privileged people if we take them seriously. They are uttered by a poor pregnant peasant girl as she begins to grasp the power and mystery surrounding the birth of the baby in her womb.

Her words, of course, are a total rejection of the blasphemous Prosperity Gospel and Christian Nationalism so prevalent in our culture today. Mary’s words remind me of the disconnect between the Christmas Gospel and American materialism, namely the class divide between the working class and the investor class.  That division exists because of some missing links in the American Dream success story.  Not everyone has the same resources or knowledge about how to play the capitalistic financial game.

I grew up in a one-income blue collar family. I didn’t understand it as a child, but in hindsight I realize we lived pay check to pay check. When my dad lost his job because a union buster bought the newspaper he worked for my parents had to sell our home and move into a rental property.

There was no extra income in families like mine to be risked in playing the market. We had Christmas Club accounts at the bank to save up a little for next year’s Christmas. Families like mine had no need to learn how to invest because there was no money to do that with.

My other insight about our capitalistic system as I ponder Mary’s words is that the very people who still today can’t afford to invest are the ones working for low wages and poor benefits so the Fortune 500’s can make big profits and pay good returns to their stockholders.

Those same companies don’t promote fiscal education but feed the frenzy of consumerism. So those low wage earners run up 20% interest credit card bills and mortgages they can’t afford which keep them in perpetual debt and unable to benefit from the advantages of the unearned income of the investor class, of which I am now a part because that’s where my pension funds were directed. That income is, of course, earned – just not by the investors, but by the hard-working, pay-check-to-pay-check labor force.

It’s a vicious cycle older than Scrooge and Bob Cratchit, and young expectant Mary is the Holy Trinity of Christmas ghosts past, present, and future continuing to proclaim the true values of the Kingdom Jesus came to bring.  

Lighting the Christ Candle 2025

by Steve Harsh, posted in Advent, Christmas

[The 4 Advent candles should be lit before the service]

During the Advent season, we have waited like expectant parents for God to deliver – to show up like Amazon with the promised gifts of hope, peace, joy and love. We wait in a world that has never needed those gifts more. And God hides our gifts in plain sight, in Bethlehem, right where the prophets told us they would be. And like every year, we’re surprised, still not convinced that God’s Messiah should be born in a barn.


Tonight our waiting is rewarded, as we celebrate again the gift of unconditional love, and the marvelous ways God breaks through the darkness, and leads us to the Light of the World. God showed the shepherds and the magi the way to Bethlehem. And tonight God is showing us the Way again.


[Light the Christ candle as the next paragraph is read]


We light the Christ Candle on this holy night to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the Light of the World. He has led us here and calls us to follow him on a marvelous journey of seeking, finding, waiting, hoping, and spreading His Holy light.

Prayer: (Please join me in the prayer on the screen)


O eternal God, forgive us when we doubt that a peasant boy of low estate could possibly heal our fearful and divided world. When our skepticism threatens to overwhelm us, wrap us in the warm swaddling cloths of hope, peace, joy and love. We have waited and prayed for your Messiah. Now it’s time for us to receive the most precious gift ever. May Christ be born in us this night. Set us aglow with the light of Christ, to warm and heal broken lives and light our darkened world. In the holy name of the one we celebrate this night, Amen.

Northwest UMC, Columbus, Ohio

Fourth Sunday of Advent 2025 – Candle of Love

by Steve Harsh, posted in Advent, Christian Discipleship, Christmas, Faith and Values, spiritual discipline

In the beginning, God fell in love with creation, and pronounced it very good.  Like romantic adoration, God’s eternal love is blind to human betrayal, rebellion, and stupidity.  When God’s children ignore the prophets and break every covenant offered to us, God continues to love us like a star-struck lover.

We celebrate Advent and Christmas every year to remind us that God still so loves the whole world that He comes to share the risks and sacrifices of being a vulnerable human being. 

In the dark days of December, when wars and senseless violence dominate the news, God’s love simply grows brighter and stronger.  The Advent candles remind us that we are all created in the image of God, and the essence of our God is unbounded, unconditional love. 

So on this final Sunday of Advent, the circle of the wreath is completed.  We relight the candles of Hope, Peace, and Joy.  And today we light the Candle of Love, because the greatest of these is Love. 

[Light all four candles]

Please join me in the prayer on the screen:

O dear God, lover of our souls, we are undeserving and unworthy of your radical love.  Our souls our willing, but our flesh is weak.  Please sweep us off our feet again in your loving embrace.  Help us to share in your wild and crazy romance with this broken world.  Let these candles rekindle in us the dream of your beloved community, so we can throw open the gates of love to all of your weary, hopeless children.  Remind us once more that the Babe of Bethlehem still calls us to love one another, in the same reckless, unconditional way that you love us.  Amen

Northwest UMC, Columbus, Ohio