Ready: For Good

This week, I had the chance to see Wicked: For Good, where the final conclusion about which witch is really good and which one is really wicked is fleshed out. Well, sort of…No spoilers here. But I did discover some rather fascinating theological connections for our journey through Advent. Are you ready? Buckle up. I’m gonna bounce around a little.

In the Episcopal tradition, theology is often described as “faith seeking understanding.” It involves thoughtful reflection on the nature of God, the teachings of Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and the ways in which God is present and active in the world and in our lives.[1]

Theology is about asking the good questions. For example, “Are people born wicked or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?” That is the question posed at the very beginning of the book, turned musical, turned blockbuster film. This is the kind of question Episcopalians love to discuss, but it barely begins to scratch the surface of all the theological pearls in Wicked. 

But then it’s Advent, the beginning of a whole new church calendar year, a weird and wonderful season - a time to prepare for the Christ child, to stay alert for God to break in at any possible future moment, a time to consider the end of time. In Advent, we begin at the end, and we end at the beginning…[2]

This Advent, we start near the end of Matthew’s Gospel and move, in what might feel like a “clock tick” for some and an excruciatingly long time for others, to the birth of the baby Jesus. Wicked also begins at the end of the story and works its way back to the beginning, an effective literary device, similar to what will unfold for us as we journey from Advent One to Christmas. The ever-present clock motif in Wicked reminds us of the relentless tyranny of time. Our Advent wreath marks each of the four weeks with themes of hope, peace, joy, and love.

On this first Sunday of Advent, Matthew’s Jesus challenges us to step out of our obsession with time, out of our daily ruts and routines, into an alert, awakened state to ready ourselves for Emmanuel – God with us. The tricky part is we don’t know precisely when that will be. So, in Advent, we prepare, and we wait.

Elphaba, the green witch in Wicked, also waits. She waits for an audience with the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz, in hopes that he will agree to “degreenify” her. In the Hebrew Bible, two words were used for waiting. Yakhal, which means simply “to wait for,” is used in the story of Noah, who waited for the flood waters to recede. The other Hebrew word is Qavah, which refers to a sense of tension and hopeful expectation while waiting for something to happen.[3]

First-century Jewish Christians who had lost everything to Roman occupation were waiting for a return to normalcy. Jesus’ words offer hope for a more promising future. Timelines converge as Matthew’s Jesus speaks from Jerusalem during Holy Week. There is an urgency, as much for the disciples as for Matthew’s community around 90 CE, and likewise for us today, to stay awake and watchful for the coming of Christ.

Can you recall a time of waiting? Studies show that anxious anticipation can hijack our cognition, making time seem to move more slowly. Anxious anticipation can certainly hinder our ability to make wise decisions. Experts suggestmindfulness practices, time in nature, and the regular practice of stillness to mitigate the stressors of waiting. Easier said than done. 

In our Gospel reading, the theological drama intensifies. “One will be taken and the other left behind.” Is it better to be taken or left? I’m not sure. What do you think? Matthew’s community surely had some thoughts during their long years of exile. 

While first-century Christians awaited the imminent return of Jesus, he did not return as they had imagined he soon would. Still today, we sing, O Come, O Come Emmanuel…Lo he Comes with Clouds Descending, Soon and Very Soon…

But when? As Matthew tells us, only our God of all time and all eternity knows. And so, as people of faith, we are left to wait for God with hopeful anticipation. But how do we muster hope when days are darkest? 

In her keynote at our diocesan conference this past weekend, the Very Rev. Winnie Varghese spoke to us about developing a broader theological imagination. The new 12^th Dean of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City challenged us to consider new ways of thinking about our theologies of mercy and justice. She also suggested seeing our most pressing issues through different eyes – the eyes of the immigrant, the stranger, the marginalized, those from other cultures and faith traditions, and those with no faith tradition at all. 

Wicked director Jon Chu shared his ten-year journey of developing the two Wicked films. Shooting the two films concurrently required seeing the big picture, the entire arc of the story. In scripture, for better or for worse, for good and for wicked, humanity’s triumphs and struggles are all there. When we see the big picture, it can be easier to hold space for others, easier to forgive, and to question systems that threaten human dignity. It can be easier to imagine God’s love meeting us exactly where we are. 

Over the course of our long marriage, my husband has learned to wait patiently for me to get ready. I appreciate this. He knows me, and he knows it doesn’t go well when we rush the process.

That’s how I imagine God to be. God knows us and patiently waits for us. In an increasingly divided and secular world, a more imaginative theological vision of a loving God waiting for us to be ready is both hopeful and provocative. 

Don’t let the sentimental melody fool you; the lyrics in Wicked’s final number, For Good are also strikingly provocative:

“Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder halfway through the wood 

Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off the sea 
or a seed dropped by a skybird in a distant wood…

God is creative and is always looking for new ways to break into our everyday lives.

What if this Advent we welcome the disruption? What if we let it wake us up?

Our Episcopal theology, with its emphasis on scripture, tradition, and reason, is a faith that seeks wisdom. Deeply grounded in the Anglican liturgical tradition, we are open, aware, and even critical of the shifting culture and its impact on our discipleship. One reason I love the Episcopal church is our capacity to take on different shapes within our unique context, without compromising our values or vocation.[4]

Advent calls us into nothing less than mystical union, at the very intersection of time and eternity, where we can be and see the Christ light shining out in the world.[5] If we are awake, Advent, this yearly opportunity to check our theology, can change us for the better. If we’re really ready, it could even change us for good. Amen.

Spiritual Practice: Take a 10-minute silent walk outdoors this week. Where do you sense God’s presence in the unfamiliar or quiet places? Or try candle gazing!

 

No Extra Charge: Here’s Wicked, the book, author Jeffrey Maquire talking about Wicked: For Good.

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[1] Ellen K. Wondra, Introduction to Theology Third Edition (La Vergne: Church Publishing Incorporated, 2002), 1.

[2] Laurence Hull Stookey, Calendar: Christ’s Time for the Church (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1996), 121.

[3] “Advent Season: What Is It, and How Is It Celebrated?” accessed November 29, 2025, https://bibleproject.com/guides/advent/.

[4] Ralph McMichael, Vocation of Anglican Theology: Sources and Essays (London: Hymns Ancient & Modern Ltd, 2014), 291.

[5] Stookey, 17.

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A Spiritual Practice for Year's End

Resurrection (Transition) Anxiety

 “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves…”

~~Ranier Maria Rilke💛

Are you aware that St. Mark’s has a transition team? Headed up by Tim Swygert, the transition team is responsible for all aspects of facilitating a smooth transition from our old structure to the next. This includes packing and moving, storing stuff, and lots of other details too numerous to mention. Do transitions give anyone else anxiety? Thank God for Tim and the team!

The Sadducees seem to be experiencing some transition anxiety as they interrogate Jesus in the temple. 

While I understand the human desire for certainty about life after death, it’s hard to take seriously the question the Sadducees ask Jesus. Sure, they’re referring to Levirate marriage law in Deuteronomy, but it’s disturbing to hear a woman so blatantly objectified. There must be a better question.

The Sadducees were an educated and elite sect of Judaism, active from about the second century BCE until the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE. They were mostly priests responsible for pretty much everything that happened in the temple, and they seemed to take this job very seriously. Of the three prominent first-century Jewish sects —the Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Essenes — the Sadducees did not accept the concept of a general bodily resurrection of the dead, the prevailing Jewish theology of the afterlife. What did they believe? It’s hard to say, because they and their writings did not survive the destruction of the Second Temple, and anything we do know comes from those who were likely opposed to them. The Sadducees seemed comfortable in their beliefs without the need for any other teachings outside the Torah, such as from the prophets, and they certainly seemed suspicious of anything the prophet Jesus had to say. 

“Teacher, you have spoken well,” some scribes say to Jesus. And they ask him no more questions, Luke tells us.

Anxiety averted? I’m not so sure. Who still has questions about the resurrection?

At lunch the other day, my sister admitted that she will sometimes text our dad, who died three years ago this month. She showed me her phone. All her texts were received. Don’t judge.

My parents died so close together, and after 65 years of marriage, I cannot tell you how many people tried to console my siblings and me by saying, “At least they are together.” 

There’s another story of a woman in a caregiving facility, hanging on to life by a tiny thread. One day, the woman is visited by a kind chaplain. Trusting him, she confides in a small, frail voice, "People keep telling me soon I will see my husband in heaven." 

To the chaplain’s great surprise, the old woman suddenly sits straight up in bed and blurts out loudly, “I spent seventy years of my life with that man! Do I have to spend eternity with him, too? 

Let’s be real: resurrection is nearly impossible to grasp from our limited human perspective.

That said, I really appreciate Jesus’ respect for and sensitivity to the diverse theological beliefs of the Sadducees. Loving our neighbor means meeting people wherever they are in their faith journey, encouraging their curiosity, and welcoming their questions. 

You’ll have a chance to practice a little with our confirmation class during coffee hour today. Please stick around. I hope you will welcome their questions and share your own. We can all be teachers for one another. 

In these last days before his death, Jesus is teaching in the temple. Scholars note that Jesus teaches in spaces accessible to all bodies, including women and children. 

The temple is a main focus this week. We might pause here to consider the function of a temple. How does a physical structure encourage communion with God? How might it interfere with or inhibit communion? Do we need a physical structure to encounter God?

Next Saturday, all are invited to join me and others from our diocese for a pop-up Eucharist at Schooley Mill Park. We will hike a short distance and worship in creation, hoping to stimulate some new conversation about where and how we do church. 

Haggai’s book is short—only two chapters—but offers a historical perspective on the rebuilding of Solomon’s temple, which was destroyed in 587 BCE. 

Along with Zechariah and Malachi, Haggai is a post-exilic prophet, one of the 12 so-called minor prophets. After seventy years in captivity, returning Jews likely had limited memory of their homeland or their temple. Surely, they had heard stories. But they’d made new lives for themselves in Babylon. When they returned to the “land of milk and honey,” things had changed. They had changed. It was likely easier to stay in their comfortable homes than to do the demanding work rebuilding their temple. Haggai’s job was to encourage them and remind them of God’s abiding presence. Haggai was chair of the transition team, kind of like Tim.

As our own exile approaches, we might consider this to be a cautionary tale. How can we attend to our transition anxiety while doing the important work of rebuilding? 

Our new Inreach Program, spearheaded by Gail Gerdes, is designed to help us do just this. You’ll be hearing more about it in the coming weeks. Perhaps you will feel called to participate.  

As we move through our transition, we will need people to keep both our inreach and outreach ministries going. We’ll need our elders to remind us where we’ve been, and prophets like our fantastic building committee to help us stay focused on the future. 

We’ll need workers of all sorts, young and old, and in between. It will be challenging, fun, and sometimes crazy making. As we watch our new building going up, as we continue praying and caring for one another, we will be co-creating something new with God. Not every church community gets a chance to do what we are doing. I pray we will listen faithfully for where God might be calling us to participate.

At St. Mark’s, we have this excellent tagline: Built on faith, rooted in love. Very soon, it will be tested, as the proverbial rubber meets the road. If we can acknowledge our anxiety and do the good work over the months ahead, continually reminding one another of God’s presence with us throughout, I think we’ll be in good shape.

As followers of Jesus, we’re all called to be on the transition team. We’re all called to share the good news of the resurrection with one another and the world. 

I spoke with an old friend on Friday who’d not only grieved the loss of his wife to cancer but also received his own scary diagnosis. Now, ten years cancer-free, he told me the doctor had spoken the word “cure.” Thanks be to God. My friend asked for prayers that he would stay healthy and alive. He’s 72. “How long do you want to live?” I asked him. “Forever,” he said facetiously. No worries there, I thought. But I’ll still keep him in my prayers. 

Rather than focusing on an incomprehensible future, I think our better question just for now might be: How can we move most faithfully and gracefully through the next transitions? My sense, based on Jesus’ example, is that if we’re patient with ourselves and one another, we will get there together, and resurrection will be ever so much clearer to us from the other side. Amen.

 

The Greatest of These: A Wedding Sermon on Love

 Can we possibly learn enough about love? 

Much has been written about love; the different kinds of love, for example, romantic love (eros), friendly love (philia), and unconditional love (agape). Love’s even been extensively researched from physical, psychological, and social perspectives. The Greater Good Science Center has come up with a broad definition of love as “a deep, unselfish commitment to another person’s well-being—even to the point of putting another’s interests before your own.”[1]

But this is probably my favorite: A reporter asked a group of children ages 4-8 about love, and this is what they came up with:

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." Billy - age 4

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired." Terri - age 4

Love, as Noelle, Age 7 says… “is what makes your eyelashes go up and down and little stars to come out of you.”

"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then, when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together, and you talk more. Emily – age 8[2]

I wonder, can we really understand love? I mean, really?  Doesn’t love often seem like such a chance thing? 

One thing I am certain about is that love is a gift. 

And today, we rejoice with you for this gift of love, a sacred gift to be cherished and nourished and protected. 

 

Your love is downright poetic.

 

And so, it is only fitting that you have chosen to share the words from the Song of Solomon, one of the all-time most beautiful and passionate depictions of love. And yes, it is in the Bible:

“My beloved speaks and says to me: 
‘Arise, my love, my fair one, 
and come away... 

 

These verses are not only gorgeous poetry, they are also a promise. They remind us that love is God’s gift to us—an inexplicable force that can break down walls and call us to be the best versions of ourselves. 

 

This marriage you are entering simply provides a worldly container for what is otherwise a very otherworldly phenomenon: an irrational, seemingly happenstance, mysterious affection between two people we humans dare to try to codify and classify.

It is truly a gift that you found one another; companions to laugh with, to share the journey and the seasons of life. 

There is power in this love.

The Song of Solomon is not shy about the power of love. 

 

“Set me as a seal upon your heart,” the poet writes,
as a seal upon your arm; 
for love is strong as death, 
passion fierce as the grave. 
Its flashes are flashes of fire, 
a raging flame. 
Many waters cannot quench love, 
neither can floods drown it.” 
(Song of Solomon 8:6-7)

 

It does seem right and good that we couple. While life can be unpredictable, and so many things can seem out of our control, God promises to be with us whenever two or more are gathered (Mt. 18:20). You will be reminders of this mysterious holy presence for one another.

By choosing to commit to one another in holy matrimony, emphasis on holy, you have actually decided to leave as little as possible to chance. This act, this holy act of commitment before beloved friends and family and before God, is real – and you’ve got the paperwork to prove it! It’s intentional. And it’s a bold act of faith.

Let’s face it, to love at all is an act of faith in an uncertain and impermanent world. A commitment like this one takes faith and challenges it to go deeper by grounding it in the nitty-gritty realities of everyday life. 

Marriage is the real love laboratory. You’ll be doing your own research every day from now on. That’s why I ask everyone I marry to call me in ten years to let me know how you are doing it. I want to know. We all want to know.

Life can be hard on love.

You two get this. I know you do. 

Today, as you say your vows, you are not only promising to love each other just as you are, but also as you will become. You are choosing to be each other’s home, each other’s safe haven, one another’s greatest advocate and friend. From this day forward, there is a kind of invisible seal upon your hearts, but also a very visible sign of goodness and hope in this new family, this bond you have created. 

The world needs your love. Your courage to claim and celebrate your partnership is a testament that God’s love is real. You two remind us, as St. Paul writes, that “the greatest of these is love” (1 Cor. 13:13). 

So, let your love be strong and tender, rational and real. Let it be poetic and playful, powerful and protective. Let it be bold and brave, but give it breathing space. Most importantly, let your love be a reflection of God, Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer; the One who is Love; that ineffable Holy mystery that delights in all the music and the messes you will make together. May your love continue to grow and flourish, may your eyelashes continue to flutter, and little stars come out of you…

 And may the gift of love, sealed this day upon each of your hearts, be a blessing to you and to the world—this day and always. Amen. 

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[1] “What Is Love? Scientists Have Answers—But They Don’t All Agree,” Greater Good, accessed October 20, 2025, https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/what_is_love_scientists_have_answersbut_they_dont_all_agree.

[2] Ladan Lashkari, “What Does Love Mean? See How 4-8 Year-Old Kids Describe Love, by Ladan Lashkari | DailyGood,” accessed October 20, 2025, https://www.dailygood.org/story//what-does-love-mean-see-how-4-8-year-old-kids-describe-love-ladan-lashkari/.

Questions

Empathy is the engine that powers all the best in us.

~~Meryl Streep

💛

1.     What is your favorite word?
2.     What is your least favorite word?
3.     What turns you on?
4.     What turns you off?
5.     What sound or noise do you love?
6.     What sound or noise do you hate?
7.     What is your favorite curse word?
8.     What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
9.     What profession would you not like to do?
10.   If heaven exists, what do you hope to hear God say as you enter the pearly gates?

Here's one more question: What television show from the past do you miss the most?

Inside the Actors Studio was a brilliant show. It provided viewers with a deep insight into the motivations and characters of some of the most interesting actors of our time. The previous questions asked by the host, James Lipton, were modeled after the (Marcel) Proust questionnaire, a Victorian-era parlor game that might just be fun to resurrect today.
Each extensive Inside interview covered different roles and experiences to such a deep extent that the actors, no doubt, felt thoroughly seen, known, and understood, for better or for worse.

At the conclusion of each show, acting students from Pace University were given the opportunity to ask their own questions. In one episode from years ago, Actress Diane Lane was asked by a student to discuss how her Christian faith has influenced her acting. Lane’s answer was both compelling and sad for this new priest.

Lane spoke about her faith and her father’s influence on her theological exploration. Her father, she explained, encouraged Lane to have a mind of her own, and thus she came to her own sense of the spiritual, shunning the patriarchal tenets of traditional Christian doctrine and dogma, opting instead for a more expansive and inclusive moral and ethical framework, one that allowed her to fully embrace the inherent complexities in every character she played.

And the Best Actor Goes to... 

What feels ironic for me is that the Jesus I know would likely agree with Diane Lane's opinions of Christianity today. Just as the best actors, I believe, come to love the characters they play, finding aspects of their own soul inside the skin of whoever they are currently tasked to inhabit, true followers of Christ practice a similar form of empathy. 

What’s sad about Lane’s answer is that Christ, during his time on earth, demonstrated this very ability – the ability to enter into the life of each human he encountered and empathically respond to their unique individual needs. It's fascinating to watch really talented actors build relationships with their own characters and others through understanding. Similarly, for Jesus, relationships were everything. Even as he was dying on a cross, he was able to tap into the deepest fears of the so-called “least of these.” Christ would have made an excellent actor.

I wonder how Diane Lane would answer this young student’s question today. My hope is that she has since had the opportunity to learn more about Jesus’ life and real teachings about love, acceptance, inclusion, and justice. My hope is that more people come to know the radical nature of the love that Christ embodied.

My hope is that all who desire to be Christ followers will embrace the role fully, learning about the genuine teachings of Jesus, who walked this earth as one of us, Jesus who calls us today to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind, and to love our neighbors as ourselves, embodying compassion, forgiveness, and justice in all we do (Matthew 22:36-40; BCP, 851).

Questions?

Mind the Gap

“O heavenly Father, who hast filled the world with beauty: Open our eyes to behold thy gracious hand in all thy works; that, rejoicing in thy whole creation, we may learn to serve thee with gladness; for the sake of him through whom all things were made, thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” —Book of Common Prayer, p. 814

💛

Minding the Gap
If you’ve ever traveled on the London Underground, you’ve likely heard a voice reminding passengers to step carefully over the space between the train and the platform. This now-familiar warning—“Mind the Gap”—has become part of urban vernacular around the world, used in ways that have nothing to do with subways.

We’re faced with glaring gaps every day; gaps having to do with power differentials. There are gaps in access to food, clean water, quality education, and healthcare. There are racial and gender gaps, generation gaps, technological gaps, and accessibility gaps.

Our Gospel reading addresses another, between wealthy and poor in this life, and yet another - between heaven and hell in the life to come. Two key points to consider when we’re working with this passage: Luke is clear about the detrimental effects of an unhealthy relationship with money. And we want to approach this story with a critical eye, not as a literal guide to the afterlife. 

 

So, what are we to make of this story about a seemingly random, unnamed rich man and poor, miserable Lazarus? 

It’s certainly told in a dramatic and creative way, using hyperbole and vivid imagery: The rich man wears royal purple robes and feasts sumptuously. Poor Lazarus, on the other hand, is so destitute he’d be pleased with scraps from the rich man’s table. Dogs come to lick his sores. 

Both men die. Lazarus doesn’t get a funeral but rather is carried away by angels to be with Abraham. He goes to the good place. The rich man does get buried but soon finds himself in torment. Seems like it could be a story about heaven and hell.

Another Gap to Consider

Because the doctrine of heaven and hell is so deeply rooted in Christian belief, it’s wise for us to consider another gap, the roughly 400-year gap between the completion of the Hebrew Bible and the development of materials that went into the New Testament. This is a period when ideas about the afterlife from other cultures, especially Greek and Egyptian, were introduced and disseminated.[1]

 

So, with all this in mind, is this week’s passage even a parable? I think so. [2] 

 

Mark’s Gospel tells us that parables are Jesus’ trademark teachings. Mark also tells us that, in private, Jesus explained everything to his disciples (Mark 4:33-34). After Jesus shared the complicated parable of the shrewd or dishonest manager with the disciples, Jesus explains to them that they cannot serve God and money. We might simplify that one to: Just love God! Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind. Familiar, right?

If last week’s parable was hard, this week’s is harsh! Intended for the Pharisees, the disciples were also probably within earshot.[3] This week, Jesus, still on his way to Jerusalem, “minds the gap” between those who have left everything to follow him and some pretty cranky religious leaders. Described by Luke as “lovers of money,” Jesus seems to expect these Pharisees to know better. Indeed, it may seem he is warning them that their preoccupation with money could lead to eternal damnation. But, if they had “ears to hear,” they might catch that the story points to the second great commandment—love your neighbor. The Pharisees know these teachings well.

But will they see themselves in the rich man? You gotta hand it to him. He was persistent. Even in death, he dismisses the gap between rich and poor and tries to theologize his way out of his sorry predicament by begging Abraham to make Lazarus serve him.

You see? This passage is not about where we go when we die. It’s about a conversion of the heart, toward compassion, justice, and neighbor-love. It’s about minding the gaps in our understanding so that we come to see the world as God would. And sometimes money really does get in the way of loving God and neighbor.

St. Francis
Born into wealth in the 12th century, St. Francis of Assisi struggled in his relationships with his father, the government, and even the church. After his conversion, he gave up all worldly attachments and riches to live in solidarity with the poor, the sick, and all of creation. Francis came to know union with God, so that he saw every other person and the entire natural world as brothers, sisters, and neighbors.

Won’t You Be My Neighbor
We have some new neighbors across the street from us. What was once a babbling brook behind our home has become part of an entirely new and diverse ecosystem, thanks to some industrious beavers who have taken up residence in a series of meticulously constructed, interconnected lodges built near their impressive dam. We’ve spotted beavers swimming and diving, climbing up out of the water to shore to check us out, then ambling off back into what has become their pond with a loud, playful slap of their powerful tail.

 Leave it to Beavers
If we pay attention, beavers can teach us how individual actions can ripple out and benefit a community. Their commitment to caring for each other—and the way they share space with other species during long winter nights—reminds us of God’s invitation to welcome the stranger and love our neighbor.

 

One afternoon, a stranger did show up! Rising up out of the water with cute little ears and impressive whiskers was this guy – an adorable river otter! What’s amazing is that
otters and beavers, though not even distant cousins, peacefully coexist, sharing their homes and even playing together. Otters remind us of the importance of adaptability. They are social creatures who make time for play as well as hunting. After a storm, otters are often the first to return, displaying resilience in the face of disaster. They rebuild their lives even while remembering to make time for joy.[4]

As humans, we are called to be good stewards of creation and one another. At our best, we work together, in collaboration, so that we can do the jobs we came to do and make time for joy while we’re at it. If we put aside our egos, we can grow and thrive while building something beautiful together that the greater community can enjoy. 

In the months to come, we will be busy beavers here at St. Mark’s. We’d be wise to mind the gaps in our workloads and in our communication. We’d be wise to take time to pray, to play, and stay alert to the Lazaruses at our gate. 

One more thing about Lazarus. Of all the parables of Jesus, did you know that Lazarus is the only named person? A relatively common name in the ancient world, the meaning of Lazarus might be important for us to remember. The name Lazarus means “God helps.”[5]

Let us pray: Loving Creator, we thank you for our precious world, your creation. In this season of change, help open our hearts and minds to the gaps among us—those places where your love longs to bridge and heal. Help us to see one another fully, that all may know the joys of belonging and contributing. Help us stay together in compassion, so that no one is left alone, feeling unseen or unheard. This we pray through Christ our Lord. Amen.

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[1] Keith Giles, “Misunderstanding The Rich Man And Lazarus Parable,” Keith Giles, December 9, 2020, https://www.patheos.com/blogs/keithgiles/2020/12/misunderstanding-the-rich-man-and-lazarus-parable/.

[2] “STORIES WITH INTENT: A COMPREHENSIVE GUIDE TO THE PARABLES OF JESUS. Second Edition. By Klyne Snodgrass. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2018, 426.

[3] Snodgrass, 426.

[4]An Episcopal Path to Creation Justice. “Season of Creation.” Accessed September 25, 2025. https://www.episcopalcreationpath.org/season-of-creation.

[5] Snodgrass, 429.