United Church of Christ

Books of the Bible: Jeremiah

It’s a strategy of power that has been taught through the generations: pledge allegiance to many gods (wealth, nation, race, religion) to guard what you believe to be yours.


A lot matters about how we choose to connect to the so-called least of these. Be careful of the Messiah complex, but not of relationship with the Messiah.


It’s awkward to imagine the Holy One in underwear. But like tighty-whities, the Lenten journey is mostly a journey of subtraction, paring down, and clinging to nothing but God.


Whatever it takes to wake me, Holy One, I will give you thanks. By coax or by curse, lead me once more to the trouble and beauty of being fully alive in your justice and joy.


Our church is filled at this time of year with processionals of children as angels, shepherds, and magi. The world, too, is full of processions as refugees seek new life and hope.


What we have done to others cannot be undone, yet God calls us to the hard work of building community for all people, that love and justice that reflect God’s measure.


Land is not mine or yours or theirs or ours. Land belongs to God, who gifts it to us, who lets us dwell in places. No one wins when we steal God’s land from one another.


What if—instead of quitting the communities that fail us (church, PTA, book club)—we practice stubborn loyalty, trusting that the crucible will make us all stronger and gentler?


When something stresses me out, my inclination is to ignore it. But when the smallest provocation angers me, it’s a sure sign that there’s a reality I am trying to deny.


Even when we are discouraged about the state of the world—especially when we are discouraged by the state of the world—we live by our best hopes and by God’s promise of love.