And It Was Good

A Sermon on the Character of God

(Note: Sermons can be heard in audio format at https://millersburgmennonite.org/worship/sermon-audio/)

Today we are starting a 3-part series on the Goodness of God. Our theme verse for this series comes from Psalm 27:13:

“I remain confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.”

That verse will guide us through these weeks as we reflect on the goodness of God: what it means that God is good, how we have experienced God’s goodness, and how we are called to share God’s goodness with others.

Today, we begin at the beginning.

When I was a boy growing up on ten acres of wooded land in rural Mississippi, I used to climb the mimosa trees near our house. I would get sap on my knees and elbows and see ruby-throated hummingbirds seeking out the fragrant flowers around my head. I was not thinking in theological language then, but I was learning something. I was learning that I was stuck to something bigger than myself, and that something was rather wonderful.

We know about the Good Book, the Bible. We read it, study it, preach from it, and seek to live by it. But there is also what I call The Other Good Book: the book of Creation. Not a replacement for Scripture, but a witness alongside it. A book written in wind, soil, birdsong, tree bark, creek water, deer tracks, ant hills, and the breath of living things.

Creation has a way of teaching us if we are willing to listen. And one of the first things creation teaches us is this:

Dios es bueno.

God is good.

And because God is good, what God creates is good.

That is where Genesis begins.

Not with sin.
Not with shame.

But with God creating, God seeing, and God calling creation good.

Let us pray,

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

Homily

In the beginning, God speaks, and light comes into being. God gathers the waters and brings forth dry land. God fills the sky, sea, and earth with life. And again and again, after God creates, the same refrain appears:

And God saw that it was good.

Then God creates humankind in the image of God, blessed by God and given responsibility within creation.

And then Genesis says:

“God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good.”

That is where the story begins.

The first word over creation is not “broken,” “sinful,” or “condemned.”

The first word is good.

Before there is a fall, there is blessing. Before there is exile, there is a garden. Before there is shame, there is delight. Before there is sin, there is goodness.

That matters because we often begin the story in the wrong place. We begin with what is wrong: human failure, guilt, sin, and everything that has gone bad in the world.

We shouldn’t ignore those things. The world is wounded. Creation groans. Bodies suffer. Relationships break. Violence, poverty, and despair are real.

But Genesis does not begin there.

Genesis begins with the goodness of God overflowing into the goodness of creation.

The repeated phrase “and it was good” is not filler. It is a deeply theological claim. The created world is not a mistake. The earth is not trash. The body is not shameful. Human life is not an accident.

God looks at what God has made and calls it good.

Dios mira lo que ha hecho y lo llama bueno.

The world is good because God is good. Creation reflects the character of the Creator.

Thomas Aquinas said God is not merely one good being among others. God is goodness itself. God does not simply have goodness the way we might have a good day or do a good deed. God is good in God’s very being. God is the source from which all true goodness flows.

That is why I love this phrase:

God is good all the time.
All the time, God is good.

It may sound like a simple phrase. A church litany. A call and response.

But if we really hear it, it is one of the deepest confessions of faith we can make.

God is good.

Not merely when life is going well. Not merely when prayers are answered the way we hoped. Not merely when healing comes quickly.

But all the time.

That does not mean everything that happens is good. It does not mean suffering is good.

It means God is good.

That is an important distinction. If we confuse everything that happens with the will of God, we may begin to call evil good. We may begin to think suffering, poverty, despair, abuse, and violence somehow come from the heart of God.

Scripture tells us something different.

The Psalmist, in addressing God, says:

“You are good, and what you do is good; teach me your decrees.” (Psalm 119:68)

God’s actions flow from God’s character. God’s commands, teaching, correction, guidance, and wisdom all come from goodness.

God’s ways are trustworthy because God is good.

But this raises an honest question.

Do we really believe God is good?

¿Realmente creemos que Dios es bueno?

Not just in what we say out loud. Not just in our hymns. Not just in our theology. But deep down, what kind of God do we imagine?

Some of us may carry an image of God as a disappointed parent, standing over us with crossed arms, waiting for us to mess up. Some of us may imagine God keeping a record of every one of our failures. Some of us may imagine God as mainly angry, cold, distant, or impossible to please.

Some of us may say “God is good,” but inwardly live as though God is out to get us.

Nuestra imagen de Dios importa porque la forma en que vemos a Dios moldea la forma en que vemos todo lo demás.

Our image of God matters because how we see God shapes how we see everything else.

If we believe God is mainly punitive, then every hardship feels like punishment. If we believe God is always disappointed, then we may never rest in grace. If we believe God is looking for reasons to condemn us, then we may become fearful, anxious, defensive, or ashamed.

But what if God is better than that?

What if God is not the author of cruelty? What if there is no evil in God? What if humanity, not God, is to blame for poverty, despair, abuse, and violence? What if God is not waiting to catch us in something wrong, but is always working to call us back into life?

To say God is good does not mean God ignores evil.

God’s goodness is not weakness or sentimentality. Because God is good, God opposes everything that destroys life.

Porque Dios es bueno, Dios se opone a todo lo que destruye la vida.

God’s judgment, rightly understood, is not the opposite of God’s goodness. God’s judgment is what goodness looks like when it confronts evil.

A good doctor does not ignore disease. A good shepherd does not ignore wolves. A good parent does not ignore harm being done to their child.

Goodness acts. Goodness protects. Goodness tells the truth. Goodness heals. Goodness restores.

So when we say there is no evil in God, we are not saying God does not care about evil. We are saying evil does not exist in nor come from God’s heart.

God is not secretly cruel. God is not secretly malicious. God is not secretly against us.

God is good.

Dios es bueno.

And if God is good, then wherever life is being restored, God is at work.

Julian of Norwich lived in a time of great suffering, illness, plague, and uncertainty. She did not deny suffering or pretend pain was unreal. But she believed that God’s love was deeper than suffering, and that in the end God’s goodness would be stronger than all that wounds and destroys.

Her famous words were, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”

That is not shallow optimism. That is deep trust that God’s goodness is not defeated by brokenness,

Perhaps this is why Psalm 23 speaks so deeply to us.

Green pastures, still waters, restored souls, God’s presence in the valley of the shades[RS1] , a table prepared in the presence of enemies, and a cup that overflows.

And then comes this promise:

“Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.”

“Ciertamente la bondad y la misericordia me seguirán todos los días de mi vida.”

Goodness and mercy.

Not guilt and condemnation. Not shame and fear. Not wrath and suspicion. Not despair and punishment.

Goodness and mercy.

The word “follow” can carry the sense of pursuit. God’s goodness and mercy do not simply trail behind us at a distance. They pursue us. They come after us. They seek us.

We may often imagine the things following us are more sinister than that: regret, failure, the past, shame, fear.

And yes, sometimes those things can feel close behind us.

But Psalm 23 promises that there is something deeper pursuing the people of God.

Goodness and mercy.

(song)

The hounds of heaven are not guilt and condemnation. They are more like our blue tick coon hound Belle, who is sure that anyone and everyone is a friend and/or wants to be her friend too. Our pursuers are goodness and mercy.

And when sin wounds what is good, God does not abandon creation. God works to redeem it.

In Jesus, we see the goodness of God most clearly.

If our image of God does not look like Jesus blessing children, touching lepers, forgiving enemies, feeding the hungry, welcoming the outcast, forgiving enemies, and laying down his life in love, then our image of God needs to be redeemed.

Jesus does not reveal a God who is eager to condemn. Jesus reveals a God who seeks the lost, touches the untouchable, welcomes children, eats with sinners, heals the sick, lifts the shamed, and lays down life in love.

If you want to know whether God is good, look at Jesus.

Jesús es cómo se ve la bondad de Dios hecha carne.

Jesus is what the goodness of God looks like in the flesh.

So perhaps the invitation today is for each of us to look within and examine the image of God we carry.

When you think of God, what rises in you first?

Fear? Shame? Suspicion? Condemnation?

Or goodness?

Do you believe God is good? Do you believe God’s desire for you is life abundantly? Do you believe goodness and mercy are following you?

For some of us, the answers to these questions may surprise us. Distorted images of God do not always disappear in a moment.

But God is not limited by our distortions.

God is bigger than our fears. God is kinder than our shame. God is more merciful than our guilt. God is more faithful than our anxiety.

God is good.

Dios es bueno.

And because God is good, we can trust God with the truth. We can bring our pain, questions, anger, grief, failures, our whole selves.

No tenemos que escondernos de un Dios bueno.

We do not have to hide from a good God. We do not have to pretend before a good God. We do not have to earn the goodness of a good God.

We receive it. We trust it. We live out of it. And by grace, we reflect it.

Genesis says God saw everything God had made, and indeed, it was very good.

Psalm 119 says, “You are good, and what you do is good.”

Psalm 23 says, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.”

So let us begin here.

God is good.

Dios es bueno.

Not sometimes. Not reluctantly. Not only to the deserving. Not only when life makes sense.

God is good. All the time. All the time. God is good.

Amen

Benediction:

Go forth trusting the goodness of God.

Go forth seeing the goodness already written into the world God loves.

Go forth becoming people who reflect the goodness of God.

And may goodness and mercy follow us all the days of our lives.

Go in Peace.

https://anabaptistworld.org/new-trial-results-in-death-sentences-for-murders-of-un-investigators/

I knew Michael from his days working with the GI Rights Hotline-affiliated group in Germany.

While I'm glad that his murderers were brought to justice, I mourn the fact that they are likely going to be executed, which is not somthing that Michael ever would have wanted --- which is what his #Mennonite family has said as well.

#Congo #DeathPenalty

https://jmb.mx/blog/2026/06/09/three-benefits-that-come-when-a-religious-community-becomes-an-open-and-affirming-congregation-to-lgbtq-queer-people/

Sharing this transcript (and audio) of my message at Joy Mennonite Church (of #OKC) from this last Sunday.

But if you don't have time to read the whole thing, here are three benefits I mention:

1. LGBTQ affirming communities can gain the gifts, talents, and creativity of Queer folks who have been turned away elsewhere.

2. LGBTQ affirming communities benefit from having a queer perspective on their tradition.

3. LGBTQ affirming congregations benefit from the struggle itself.

P.S. Also, I have to mention to my friends at #JudaismUnbound that I discussed the concept I first heard on the podcast about "queering Torah" and why we need to think about what else needs to be queered.

#PrideMonth #LGBTQ #Mennonite #Oklahoma

Visual Art Interpretation – My Hopes and Dreams for the Next Year

I began with an idea of drawing my age and it gradually morphed into a radiant, hand-made number filled not so much with tasks to accomplish as with the people, callings, loves, and practices that give me joy.

The bright red border and repeated golden lights give it the appearance of a theater sign or a carnival ride. They are a remnant of posters I used to make when I was a boy. Inside that celebratory outline, the words curve, turn, reverse, overlap, and require the eye to travel.

The words I placed inside my age—Sing, Play, Memories, God, Laugh, Journey, Pastor, Author, Husband, PeaceGrooves, Friends, Art, Church, Love, Woodcraft—are striking to me because so many of them are relational or creative. Author is near Husband. Pastor winds along the same road as Journey. PeaceGrooves circles alongside Friends, Church, and Love.

The Word I Did Not Write

After finishing the piece, I realized that I did not write health or healing anywhere inside it. Those things matter deeply to me, especially in light of some of the recent physical concerns and uncertainties I have been carrying. And yet, perhaps their absence does not mean they were forgotten. Perhaps I instinctively wrote the life I hope healing will allow me to continue inhabiting.

I did not write healing, but I wrote Sing-Play: the hope that my body and spirit can still release themselves into music.

I wrote Laugh: the hope for lightness, delight, and joy.

I wrote Journey: the hope that I can continue moving forward.

I wrote Husband and Friends: the hope of remaining present in love and relationship rather than retreating into worry or isolation.

I wrote Pastor and Church: the hope that I can continue serving meaningfully among people.

I wrote Art, Author, Woodcraft, and PeaceGrooves: the hope that creativity will continue flowing through me rather than being swallowed up by discouragement, exhaustion, or fear.

Perhaps healing is everywhere in this drawing without being visible. It is hidden beneath almost every word: Let me be wekHzll enough, free enough, encouraged enough, and alive enough to keep inhabiting these loves.

But perhaps the omission also tells me something tender and difficult about myself. When I think about the future, I often think first about what I can give, create, serve, love, and build. I may not always think first about what I need. This picture invites me to remember that somewhere in the glowing year ahead, there must also be room for my own care. I am not only the husband, pastor, artist, author, musician, friend, and creator. I am also a person who needs healing, rest, gentleness, and grace.

The Smear Between Author and Husband

One of the small accidents in the piece occurred in the space between Author and Husband. Water smeared the color there, and I had to cover it as best I could. I was mostly able to hide the mistake, though I know it happened.

That accidental smear now feels strangely meaningful. Author and Husband are two of my most intimate identities: the part of me that creates worlds and gives language to inner experience, and the part of me that shares an actual life in love and covenant with another person. Perhaps those two identities were never meant to be sharply separated. My writing rises from my lived relationships, from tenderness, memory, fear, faith, longing, disappointment, and love. And my creative life inevitably spills into the life I share with my wife.

The water touched the border between those words, and I tried to repair it. That is not a failure of the picture. It may be one of the most honest parts of it. Life does not remain perfectly inside the lines. The roles I care most about do not remain untouched by mess, vulnerability, or accident. Sometimes the colors run together. Sometimes I try to cover what went wrong. Sometimes a trace remains, visible mostly to me.

Yet I did not throw the picture away. I continued working on it. I allowed the imperfection to dry and become part of the finished whole.

Perhaps that is an image of grace. A life of grace is not a life where nothing ever gets smeared. It is a life in which even the smeared places can be incorporated into the beauty.

Church: Almost Illegible

I also noticed that Church almost looks like “Churgh.” It is there, but it is not the clearest or most immediately readable word. That, too, feels symbolic.

Church is deeply present in my hopes for the coming year. It is part of who I am, part of my calling, part of my relationship with God and with community. But church is not always simple or perfectly clear. It can be difficult to read. It can be beautiful and messy, life-giving and exhausting, sacred and profoundly human all at once.

In this picture, church does not appear by itself in a clean, isolated space. It is crowded into a circling path alongside other words: Love, Friends, Art, the movements of creativity and ministry surrounding it. That seems truthful. For me, church is not separate from love, friendship, art, imagination, service, or reconciliation. It is beautifully entangled with them.

The fact that the word may be hard to dicipher signifies that church is something I continue to believe in and belong to, though at times, it may be difficult to see clearly its formation.

The Shape of the Year

The large number itself is not simply filled in. It becomes a winding course. The words curve around turns and corners; some appear upright from one angle and upside down from another. To read the whole image, I almost have to rotate it, follow it, and let my eyes travel through it.

I do not know exactly how it will unfold. My hopes do not form a straight road or a neatly numbered plan. They form a brightly lit labyrinth. Something that appears upside down from one position may look different once I travel farther along the curve. Something that seems peripheral now may become central. Something disappointing may redirect me toward an unexpected opening.

This drawing does not say, Here is my plan to master the next year.

It says, Here is the glowing path I hope to traverse.

Music feeds ministry. Woodcraft feeds contemplation. Writing feeds faith. PeaceGrooves gathers together my imagination, my longing for peace, my love of play, and my desire to offer something meaningful to others. Marriage and friendship keep my creative life from becoming merely solitary. Church places my personal dreams within a larger body. God is not outside all these things, looking down upon them from a distance, but present among them.

My life is not a ladder climbing toward a single success. It is a winding, illuminated journey through many loves.

The Lights Around the Border

The repeated yellow bulbs around the border give the piece a vintage, celebratory feeling. They make the year look like something grounded in the past yet being announced: a show beginning, a stage opening, a bright invitation to enter.

There is something almost exuberant about it. I did not draw a quiet little calendar page or a restrained list of intentions. I drew my age as a symbol of hope. Music, laughter, love, friendship, art, faith, craft, writing, church, PeaceGrooves—these are not hobbies or decorative extras around the edge of life. They are among the things that make life worth living.

And yet the lights are not machine-perfect. They are hand-drawn. Each one is slightly different. Some are rounder, some rougher, some more irregular. The brightness of this coming year is not a slick commercial promise that everything will be perfect. It is the brightness I have carefully drawn around my hopes with my own imperfect hand.

The lights continue around the bends. They do not shine only along the smooth or impressive stretches. They follow the narrow turns, the dips, the places where the shape curls inward. The light does not abandon the complicated places.

What This Picture Says to Me

This is a picture of my hope not merely to survive another year but to remain fully myself within it.

I want to sing and play.

I want to laugh.

I want to remember.

I want to journey.

I want to love and be loved.

I want to remain a husband, a pastor, an author, an artist, a craftsman, a musician, a friend, and a dreamer.

I want PeaceGrooves not merely to exist as a project, but to become an expression of something deep within me: my longing to imagine, create, and make peace.

I want God not as an abstract religious idea floating somewhere outside my life but as a living presence woven among music, love, creativity, friendship, church, memory, laughter, and journey.

And perhaps beneath the entire picture is the word I did not write: wholeness.

Wholeness includes health. It includes healing. But it is larger than both. It is the hope that all these different names for myself will not compete with one another, break apart, or fade away, but somehow curve together into a single radiant life.

The smear between Author and Husband, the almost-illegible Church, the reversed words, the crowded pathways, the uneven bulbs, and the wandering design do not lessen the picture. They make it more honest.

My hopes for the next year are not cleanly arranged or perfectly protected from mistakes. They are handmade. They are entangled. They are vulnerable. They are colorful. They are imperfect.

And, Oh Yes!, they are still shining.

Becoming Zero

A Sermon on Our Value in Christ

(Note: Sermons can be heard in audio format at https://millersburgmennonite.org/worship/sermon-audio/)

Philippians 2:1–13

Introduction

There is a strange kind of math at the heart of Christian faith.

Most of us are taught to become something: successful, respected, secure, noticed. We want a place, a voice, a purpose. There is nothing wrong with wanting life to matter. There is nothing wrong with wanting to be seen and loved.

And today, as we honor our graduates, we give thanks for real accomplishment, for effort, growth, perseverance, and the doors that now open before them. But I also want to bless them with this deeper challenge: do not let the world’s calculations of what counts for success be the measure for your life.

The world often teaches us an anxious kind of success. It teaches us to add and add and add: accomplishments, things, recognition, possessions, influence, control, certainty, proof that we are right, evidence that we matter.

Then Paul gives us the mathematics of Jesus.
Jesus, who had equality with God, did not use it for his own advantage.
Jesus emptied himself.
Jesus took the form of a servant.
Jesus became obedient, even to death on a cross.

Jesus became zero.

Not worthless. Not meaningless. Not erased. But emptied of grasping for power. Emptied of the need to dominate. Emptied of the need to stand above others. Emptied so completely that the love of God could be witnessed without obstruction.

Let us pray:

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean agradables a tus ojos, oh Dios, roca nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

Homily

Becoming zero does not mean believing we have no value. It does not mean allowing ourselves or others to be diminished or abused in the name of humility. That is not the way of Christ. The humility of Jesus does not protect oppression; it exposes it. The self-emptying of Christ is not self-destruction.

To become zero is not to become nothing.

To become zero is to become free.

I once wrote a short poem called “Becoming Zero,” subtitled “The Mathematics of the Divine.” It begins:

“It is where
I need to be
not past the center
into negativity
but more of others
and less of me”

That is the distinction we need. Becoming zero is not moving past the center into despair, shame, worthlessness, or self-hatred. It is the place where my needs, preferences, anxieties, opinions, and desires are no longer the measure of everything.

It is, as the poem says, “more of others / and less of me.”

And then the poem continues:

“What were gains
I now consider loss
for where the axes
meet at zero
they make a cross”

Where the axes meet at zero, they make a cross.

That is Philippians 2. The vertical line: love of God. The horizontal line: love of neighbor. And at the center: Christ, emptied, humbled, crucified, and yet revealing the very heart of God.

So when Paul says, “Value others above yourselves,” he is not asking us to wander into negativity. He is asking us to come to the cross-shaped center.

Paul writes:

No hagan nada por ambición egoísta ni por vanidad.

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.”

That sentence alone could transform the church.

Imagine if it became not just a verse we admire, but a practice we live. Imagine if every time we entered a room we asked, “Whose good am I seeking?” Imagine a disagreement where people asked, “How can I understand the interest of the other before defending my own?” Imagine life lived where the question was not, “How do I get my way?” but “How do we become more faithful to Christ together?”

That is the community Paul is describing.

“If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion…”

Paul is appealing to what the church at Phillipi has already received. If Christ has encouraged us, if love has comforted us, if the Spirit has drawn us into fellowship, then those gifts should become visible in the way we treat one another.

La vida de la iglesia debe ser el desbordamiento de la gracia de Dios.

Church life should be the overflow of God’s grace.

If we have been comforted by Christ, we become comforting people.
If we have been forgiven by Christ, we become forgiving people.
If we have been welcomed by Christ, we become welcoming people.
If we have been served by Christ, we become servants of all.

Paul says, “Be like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.”

That does not mean everyone in the church must have the same personality, opinions, politics, beliefs, preferences, background, or tastes. Christian unity is not sameness. The church is a body, not a wall of identical bricks.

La unidad significa que nuestras diferencias se reúnen bajo el señorío de Cristo.

Unity means our differences are gathered under the lordship of Christ.

We can disagree and still ask, “How do I love you?” We can see things differently and still ask, “How do I honor Christ in how I speak to you?” We can have strong convictions and still refuse selfish ambition and vain conceit.

That phrase “selfish ambition” matters. Paul is not condemning all ambition. There are holy ambitions: to serve well, love deeply, seek justice, create beauty, build peace, preach truth, care for the suffering.

He is naming the ambition that curves inward.

Selfish ambition says: I must win. I must be seen. I must be right. I must get credit. I must protect my place. I must not become less.

Then Paul names “vain conceit”: empty glory, hollow importance, the need to appear larger than we are.

Against all of that, Paul says: humility.

But humility is often misunderstood. Humility is not pretending our gifts are not real. Humility is not saying, “I am terrible at everything,” when God has given us abilities. True humility is living in the truth:

I am deeply loved, but I am not the center.
I have gifts, but they are not mine to hoard.
I have needs, but so do others.
I have a voice, but so does my neighbor.
I have interests, but they are not the only interests that matter.

Paul says:

“Not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.”

He does not say we have no interests. He does not say our needs do not matter. He does not command a community where some are always sacrificed for the comfort of others. In a healthy body, every member matters. En un cuerpo sano, cada miembro importa.

This is where John the Baptist helps us.

In the Gospel of John, John’s disciples come to him worried. Jesus is baptizing. Crowds are going to Jesus. John’s influence is decreasing. His ministry is no longer at the center.

And John says:

“He must become greater; I must become less.”

That is becoming zero.

John does not say it with bitterness. He does not say, “Well, I guess I failed.”

John fundamentally understands his calling. John is not the bridegroom. He is the friend of the bridegroom. John is not the light. He bears witness to the light. John’s joy is not in being central. His joy is in pointing to Christ.

John is free because he knows who he is and whose he is. He can decrease because his identity is not threatened by Christ’s increase.

Ministry is not about us. It’s about Jesus. Our identity and value are rooted in Christ. Like John, we are free because we know who we are and whose we are. And that manifests itself in our relationships with others. As Paul says:

En vuestras relaciones entre vosotros, tened la misma mentalidad que Cristo Jesús.

“In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus.”

“In your relationships.” At home. At church. In disagreement. In conflict. In leadership. In service. In community. Have the mind of Christ there.

And what is the mind of Christ?

Jesus does not humble himself from a place of lowliness. He humbles himself from the highest place. He does not become servant because he has no power. He becomes servant because this is what divine love does with power.

The world uses power to dominate. Jesus uses power to serve.
The world uses status to separate. Jesus uses status to kneel.
The world uses authority to command attention. Jesus uses authority to wash feet.

This is why “Becoming Zero” is not just an individual spiritual idea. It is the shape of the church.

A zero-shaped church is a church where people make room.

It is where the strong do not use their strength to get their way, but to support the weak. It is where her members do not say, “This church belongs to us,” but, “How can we welcome those God is bringing among us?” It is where leaders do not ask, “How can I be important?” but, “How can I help others flourish?”

A zero-shaped church is where people in conflict do not rush to defend themselves first, but pause long enough to ask, “What burden, wound, hope, loss, care might my brother or sister be carrying?”

And this is where we must be honest: valuing others above ourselves is hard.

It sounds beautiful until someone else’s interests inconvenience us. It sounds holy until someone else’s needs require us to change. It sounds inspiring until valuing another person means listening longer than we wanted, apologizing more honestly than we planned, giving up a preference we cherished, or making room for a voice we would rather not hear.

There is a kind of mathematics that says: If someone else gains, I lose.

But Christ gives us different math. I call it The Geometry of Grace.

In Christ, another person’s dignity does not SUBTRACT from mine. Another person’s voice does not erase mine. Another person’s gift does not make mine meaningless.

God loved us 100% before we even learned to loved God 1%. My friends, that’s the Geometry of Grace.

Division disappears and the church grows like in Acts where people were ADDED to their number every day. That’s the Geometry of Grace.

The dignity of all of us is multiplied to become a sum greater than its parts. That’s the Geometry of Grace.

The first become last, the negative becomes positive, the least of these become Christ, and King of kings chooses to become zero….

“Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name…”

This is not a strategy for self-promotion. We do not humble ourselves in order to get applause later. We do not become servants as a clever way to become masters. That would just be selfish ambition wearing religious clothing.

But Paul wants us to know that self-emptying is not annihilation. The humbled Christ is exalted. The crucified one is Lord. God vindicates self-giving love.

Paul ends:

“Continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”

Work out your salvation. Ocupaos de vuestra salvación.

Not work for your salvation because God is at work in you. The you here is plural. Do you believe that God is working in you? Do you believe that God is working in your sisters and brothers here? Do you believe that God is at work in our community, nation, and the world?

The mindset of Christ is being formed within us. God is working in us to will and to act according to God’s good purpose.

So yes, we practice. Yes, we choose. Yes, we repent. Yes, we listen. Yes, we serve. Yes, we learn to lay down selfish ambition and vain conceit.

But underneath our work is God’s work.

God is making us into the kind of people who can love like this. God is making us into the kind of church where people do not have to compete for worth. God is making us into a body where Christ is made visible more and more each and every day.

The text today is an invitation, but it also raises some hard questions. Let’s reflect on these together:

What do you need to let go? ¿Qué necesitas liberar?

Are you clinging to status, preference, control, resentment, recognition, or the need to be right?

Where is Christ inviting you to become less, not because you do not matter, but because Christ matters more?

Where is Christ inviting you to value another person’s interests above your own?

¿En qué momento te invita Cristo a valorar los intereses de otra persona por encima de los tuyos?

Maybe it is in your family. Maybe it is in this congregation. Maybe it is with someone you are avoiding. Maybe it is in a disagreement where you have been preparing your defense rather than your compassion. Maybe it is in a ministry where you need to rejoice that someone else is now carrying what you once carried. Maybe it is simply in the daily hidden work of making room.

John said, “He must increase, and I must decrease.”

Paul said, “Have the same mindset as Christ Jesus.”

Jesus said, “Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant.”

This is the way of the kingdom.

Not upward grasping, but downward love.
Not selfish ambition, but shared joy.
Not vain conceit, but holy humility.
Not my interests alone, but the interests of others.
Not becoming nothing, but becoming free in everything.

So let us become zero.

Let us become empty enough for Christ to fill us.
Low enough for Christ to lift us.
Humble enough for Christ to be seen in and through us.
Free enough to value one another above ourselves.
Loving enough to make room for all God’s children.

And may the same mind be in us that is in Christ Jesus.

Let us pray:

Prayer (Less of Me by Glen Campbell)

Let me be a little kinder
Let me be a little blinder
To the faults of those about me
Let me praise a little more

Let me be when I am weary
Just a little bit more cheery
Think a little more of others
And a little less of me

Let me be a little braver
When temptation bids me waver
Let me strive a little harder
To be all that I should be

Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker
Let me think more of my neighbor
And a little less of me

May it be so

In the name of our Servant King, Jesus the Christ.

Amen

A happy birthday to my Grandpa Henry Neufeld. Born this day in 1922 at present day, Hrushivka, Zhaporihzia,(Russia-occupied) Ukraine.

Here he is beside my Grandmother on their wedding day in 1943.

Oh cool! You know... Google maps is incredible. I was just looking at the location of the old Mennonite village on Google Earth and up popped a landmark pin and photo just down the lane from his birthplace. It is named:

"Staryy Holandsʹkyy Mlyn - Historical landmark
Unnamed Road
Hrushivka
Zaporizhia Oblast, Ukraine
71775”

Which translates as “Old Dutch Mill”... which would jive with Mennonite history!! I wonder if my Grandpa was ever in that mill, likely not as he was only 2 or 3 when they left for Canada but surely his parents and siblings were.

I wonder if it has survived the war? Another war…

#Ukraine #Mennonite #Family #FamilyHistory #Ancestry #RussiaUkraineWar

https://www.google.com/maps/place/Staryy+Holands%CA%B9kyy+Mlyn/@47.0467057,35.8238797,2894m/data=!3m1!1e3!4m6!3m5!1s0x40dd59849c53559f:0xeef602c02324c544!8m2!3d47.0467057!4d35.8238797!16s%252Fg%252F11n7s87khs?entry=ttu&g_ep=EgoyMDI2MDQxMy4wIKXMDSoASAFQAw%3D%3D

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Disturbing #documentary on #sexualabuse in the #Mennonite + #Amish communities.

Showing as part of #IndependentLense on PBS

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt35393499/reference/?ref_=ext_shr_lnk

PLANNING AN EPIC RAIL TRIP/SPEAKING TOUR

I was able to snag a half-price #Amtrak railpass on a special, so I'm planning some cross-country travel, but I also would love to take advantage of this opportunity to get to do some speaking in different communities while traveling.

The cities I'll be at (and would have time to speak in) are: Seattle, Portland, SF Bay area, and Denver.

The topics I can present on would include:

1. #DraftCounseling - Why local groups need to start getting ready to help people who may face military conscription under the Trump administration?

2. The issue of #IllegalOrders under US #MilitaryLaw as well as #InternationalLaw

3. #Indigenous Draft Resistance - stories and reflections from the history of resistance by Indigenous Americans to being drafted

4. The joys of engaging in MRP (multi-religious practice) --- I'm a Humanistic Jew who is also an active member of a progressive #Mennonite church.

5. Something else? - I'm open to other topics related to military law, #HumanisticJudaism, and the progressive Mennonite tradition.

As far as cost goes, I'm asking for local groups who can afford it to either: (1) find me a place to a stay, ideally a private bedroom that I can get to by mass transit from the Amtrak station, or (2) pay me an honorarium of at least $100.

I'm firming up my travel plans, but it looks like the cities and dates that I would be available for speaking engagements would be:

#Seattle, WA
Wed, April 29 (evening)
Thu, April 30 (all day)
#Portland, OR
Fri, May 1 (evening)
#SF Bay Area
Sunday, May 3 (all day)
Monday, May 4 (all day)
#Denver
Tuesday, May 6 (late evening, if train is on time)
Wed, May 7 - morning or lunch

If you know any groups who want me to speak for them and/or have other ideas, please me a message or email me at girightslawyer at gmail dot com.

Thanks!

Just a last minute reminder that our Draft Counseling 201 class starts at 1 pm central.

Here is the zoom link if you have not had a chance to register: https://zoom.us/meeting/register/-jYOUaW4QUWfaNujQ-fk1w

And to learn more about the training series, please visit: DraftCounseling.org

#MilitaryDraft #MilitaryConscription #Draft #USA #War #Peace #ConscientiousObjection #Mennonite

https://jmb.mx/blog/2026/03/02/looking-for-james-mast/

I’m making this post because I don’t what else to do.

I’m looking for James Mast, a son of Moses Mast (my dear friend and mentor who recently passed away). If you are James or you know how to get in touch with him, please contact me (jmb.mx/contact) , as I want to make sure James can attend the memorial service (even if it has to be remote) but also for some other important issues.

FYI, James was last known to be in Cornwall, Ontario (see https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/sixties-scoop-immigration-1.7541323 ) , but I haven’t had any luck tracking him down.

#Canada #Cree #Metis #Oklahoma #Ontario #SixtiesScoop #Indigenous #Mennonite