
This sermon was preached at Northside Presbyterian Church in Ann Arbor, Michigan and is based on Exodus 3:1-15.

This sermon was preached at Northside Presbyterian Church in Ann Arbor, Michigan and is based on Exodus 3:1-15.

Here are beautiful words of encouragement, found in the Letter to the Philippians:
Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Think about these things.
And for this moment we’re living, also. . .
Share these things.
It’s vitally important that we call attention to the longstanding injustices that are harming planet and human lives. For some, they are conveniently kept out of view. For many, they are very dangerous. We must speak about these things.
and
Alongside that effort, it’s vitally important that we spotlight and support people who are addressing, confronting, and transforming those very injustices. People need to see that change is possible. People need encouragement that the script can shift. In short, people need hope.
So what do we know about, and how can we support these efforts?
How do we think about these things? How might we share these things?

My friend Jennifer Pollard takes care of all the jazz musicians in our town.
It’s a beautiful calling that she has. She promotes all of their concerts. In fact, she created a hub for it – a Facebook page that is always spotlighting the work of local artists. She attends these concerts herself and thoroughly enjoys the music.
But this is much deeper than a logistical calling — organizing invitations, etc. It’s a spiritual calling. My friend is very intentional in her relational support with local jazz artists. She has created deep friendships with musicians. She can be trusted, and people confide in her. They can laugh together. With her, they can talk about their own callings too.
Jennifer Pollard says she takes great care to support local musicians because “they are conduits.” She holds a deep belief that these gifted, local artists lift us to something higher and more meaningful in their music. So Jennifer tries to be present to their needs and support them in any way she can. She wants to lift them up and help them be exactly who they are.
Conduits.
Because Jennifer uses this language a lot, so I also find myself thinking about it when I watch local musicians play. Then, I think about the ways we are all often conduits toward something higher and more meaningful. We participate in that kind of sharing all the time. It’s beautiful.
Well, last night, in that spirit, something very special happened.
Jennifer performed. Last night, along with bassist Eric Nachtrab and guitarist Alex Anest (they were both amazing) Jennifer sang jazz, and she was incredible! Such a gorgeous voice. . . soulful, fun, spirited, reflective. It seemed like she had been doing this all her life. Amazing.
When she came over to me during a short break, I had the pleasure of saying, “You’re the conduit tonight,” which, of course, was completely true. She was a conduit, soulful and alive.
And with her, we rose to the same.

Trans, Queer, Bisexual, Lesbian, and Gay siblings,
You have worth beyond words,
and
You are worth a fullness of love and belonging that can barely begin to be encompassed in words,
YET every life-filled Word reveals a cascade of truth-filled words in your direction –
Human
Beloved
Gifted
Treasured
Valued
Chosen
Partnered
Cherished
Honored
Fierce
Free
Alive.
Loved
Loved
Loved
Within and Beyond
all the words.
If you’d like to read the text of the Nashville Statement and the direct response of the Denver Statement, visit this page.

Bees bumble from flower to flower, using the navigation of bright colors to bring them to life-giving nectar. They collect it and covert it to honey to care for their young, and by extension, the whole hive.
But they have no idea about something else. . .
They have no idea they are pollinating the world’s food supply.
I think there’s something remarkably beautiful about that. The lives of bees are already so intricate and complex even in what they do intend, but beyond that, their work yields more life and complexity than they know.
Maybe this can serve as a parable:
Individually, and especially collectively, our best intentions, our best connections, our best work, our best loves, and our best visions may yield more life and complexity than we know too.
Last week, we said this. . .
“Our aliveness — our dreams, our connections, and the callings which fuel us — can be some of the best gifts we offer our neighbors. They are ripe for collective change.
So whatever it is. . .
that dream,
that hope,
that longing,
that resource,
that gift,
that ability which comes so easily that you forget it’s special,
Keep doing it.”
This is something I very much believe. Alongside the painful news stories, large looming questions, and occasional waves of despair happening in our world, I sometimes say to myself, “The God of Dreams.”
“The God of Dreams. . . The God of Dreams. . .” I repeat it to myself to remember, especially if I’m feeling overwhelmed in it all. Because deep down, alongside all the challenges, I still believe there is inspiration beyond us, and it is always meeting with us. It is always finding us because that’s how God is. Beyond my full understanding, I believe this within myself. Other things are possible because we are being called into new ideas and visions.
They will find us. Especially if we begin to seek them out.
Part of the reason I say this phrase to myself — “The God of Dreams” — is because over the last three years, I’ve seen what has happened in the story below. Do you need a little inspiration today? Listen to Ben Johnston-Krase and Allen Brimer talk about Farm Church.
Farm Church is a church that meets on a farm and leverages all of the resources of that farm to address food insecurity. And it all started with a dream in the middle of the night.
The God of Dreams.
In this video, unfortunately, Ben and Allen’s names are both misspelled, and at a couple of points, they are switched. Allen is on the left; Ben is on the right.

Today’s blog is a repost but one I very much want to share again.
In honor of the eclipse, I’ve been writing this week about the sun, its light, its energy, and its life. Yesterday, I was cleaning my house while the Mumford & Sons’ song “Lover of the Light” came on shuffle. I was reminded of how much I love a particular musical crescendo in this song. It makes me think of this:
Friends, there are simply things you can do uniquely that no one else can do in the same way. That might sound kind of hokey, I realize, but it is actually true. Within those skills, discover where the calling lies and then double down on it. Keep putting it in the world. Sometimes, we are shocked to discover what it can catalyze.
Here’s the repost. . .
That Glorious Crescendo
I have always loved that huge, prolonged, build-up crescendo in the Mumford & Sons song, “Lover of the Light.”
It starts at 3:44 and builds for a whole minute until 4:43.
I hear a bit of a metaphor in this music — a musical parable, if you will. Almost every time I listen, I end up thinking about change. This is what the best kind of change can sound like.
Intriguingly, the crescendo starts after these words:
“You may not trust the promises of the change I’ll show.
But I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine.”
Then we’re off.
We hear a motive.
And it repeats.
And it repeats.
And it repeats.
And it repeats
It keeps repeating the entire time. It keeps on sounding.
And soon, other themes and chords emerge. They begin to accompany it. Then they grow and become progressively stronger. The initial theme remains, but it is no longer the sole focus. Our attention is now drawn to the collective whole.
Change.
Over the years, I’ve shared a Howard Thurman quote with many people: “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
Of course, I do believe we should ask what the world needs. But I also think that our aliveness — our dreams, our connections, and the callings which fuel us — can be some of the best gifts we offer our neighbors. They are ripe for collective change.
So whatever it is. . .
that dream,
that hope,
that longing,
that resource,
that gift,
that ability which comes so easily that you forget it’s special,
Keep doing it.
Put it out into the world and double down on it. Because it may come along and accompany someone else’s gift. And other people may come along and begin to accompany yours.
There may be obstacles (there probably will be) but that is how the best, life-giving change is made.
So bring it into the light.

[Image found at http://www.unbelievable-facts.com]
Here’s a mind-blowing fact: There are more living organisms found in a single teaspoon of soil than there are people on the earth. (Yes! Mind blown!)
More than 7 billion living organisms. In just one spoon-full.
That’s incredible.
And like us, every organism in the soil is supported by the sun, a burning sphere of hot gas, fusing its energy 93 million miles away from us. This means our lives are sustained by an
enormous, far-away source of heat and light
and
tiny, nearby creatures, so numerous that we could barely begin to count them.
There are always more forces sustaining us than we can easily see.
So how much more?
In the earth? In the Spirit? In the dreams? In the relationships?
It is truly a miracle that anything grows.
Many plants, especially perennials, are empowered to grow in the spring because they’ve been storing energy from previous seasons. The sunlight from months ago enabled them to store that energy. When we see plants grow and bloom, they reveal the presence of the past as well.
This is hard to anticipate, but it’s true: How you live this chapter – this very day, in fact – may give life in future ways that you can barely begin to imagine.
Well, now that I’ve experienced it, I can tell you there are hardly words to describe how amazing a total solar eclipse can be. Yesterday, we traveled to Russellville, Kentucky to watch it happen. Truly, that was one of the most beautiful and spectacular things I’ve ever seen in my life. The moment of totality, when it all locks into place, is exhilarating. I love that everyone cheered and then made sounds of wonder. We were collectively mesmerized.
But also, long before we got to that moment, the day was really meaningful and fun. Lots of folks gathered at the Logan County Public Library for the viewing in Russellville. We arrived at 7 AM. People were already there, and throughout the next few hours many more came. It was a good number of people, but there was enough space outside for people to spread out. We spent a lot of hours together, waiting.
And I noticed that the stranger barrier just kind of came down. People were in a super good mood, glad to welcome people from a lot of different places. There was a lot of kindness. There were a lot of conversations. There were a lot of connections made. It was really refreshing.
Perhaps recognizing that it was a special day, people made a more intentional effort to connect well with each other. It was beautiful to watch. We didn’t solve any of the complex problems before our nation or world, but for a while, I think people felt safer with each other.
And that made me think of this:
Connections matter. The way we relate matters.
I don’t believe that mere kindness solves all our problems. Far from it. We need more than that. We can’t dismantle and heal the impacts of white supremacy, for instance, by just being nicer. Repspectability politics and tone policing can also be very harmful, so let’s not go there.
But I do believe that greater kindness cultivates greater relational safety, and this allows people to bring their more energized, grounded, and convicted selves to solving problems.
So those connections you make today might do much more than you know. You might lay the groundwork for something greater.
– Renee Roederer