This is Real | Proper 17A, Time After Pentecost +6 | August 30, 2026

Holy Baptism and Holy Communion are sacred moments when the invisible realities of God’s grace, forgiveness, and love become visible and tangible. The tension—the “gap”—between the kingdom of God revealed in Christ and the broken, often false world we experience, reminds us that faith calls us to meet that gap with compassion, sacrifice, and trust rather than seeking control or avoiding suffering. Through baptism, communion, and following Christ to the cross, we are invited to give our lives away, embrace what is real and holy, and discover that suffering and sacrifice are not the end but the path to true and everlasting life.

This is a rare day.

Three Holy baptisms, and soon we will celebrate Holy Communion…

Our two sacraments…

What is invisible and eternal, contained in the physical, visible.

In keeping with our faith and practice, the prayers of this assembly make real the elements of water, of bread and wine.

We see with our own eyes our prayers answered if but for a moment. 

This is real.

Sacraments are real, a moment when what is real appears before eyes grown accustomed to falsehood.

Every child is beloved of God, yet not every child is baptized.

Every man, every woman.

Every man, woman, and child is worthy of the bread of grace, the wine of forgiveness, yet not all receive Holy Communion. 

Our sacraments close the gap between what is real yet invisible and what is false but visible, between what we pray for and what we live; this we all know, and yet we often forget—faith lies in this gap.

the kingdom of God in Christ has already been revealed; the kingdom of this world set against it.

One real, the other false. 

One is ours through faith; the other is ours day by day. 

Ours is the question, the gap, to live according to what is real, 

For faith to close the gap with compassion, as Paul says so eloquently, 

To rejoice with those who rejoice, to weep with those who weep, to live in harmony with all, peaceably, not returning evil for evil.

Yet for our sake, speaking of our human longing to close this gap by our own power—when Jesus speaks what is real, the suffering the lies ahead—

For us Peter says “God forbid it, Lord. This must never happen to you.”

But it must happen because of the gap, because the gap is real.

Peter wants what we all want, for the power of God to set all things right, to put a visible end to the power of evil that defies God, to end human suffering, to overthrow tyrants, to set us free now, without suffering, no real cross to bear, compassion without sacrifice.  

We renounce the power of evil when we celebrate Holy Baptism, 

and it is this power of evil which Jesus rebukes Peter for, 

any who want to become my followers, 
let them deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow me.

He presents a choice as if it is a choice, and it is a choice, but not really.

For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for Jesus’s sake will find it.  

This is real.  

Baptism is gaining life by losing it.

These two babies were given away today, given to God, and thus gained life, so too this grown man.

Holy baptism is real; Holy Communion is real; this is what Holy means…What is real is holy. 

So we seek what is holy, what is real, though we are beset by unreality day in and day out.  

It our cross to bear, the real truth that none of us has control of time, none protected from human struggle; 

our days are numbered; 

family fails us, friends betray us….our bodies are not eternal. 

The cross Jesus speaks of awaits us all, in one form or another, but each and every cross is the gap between what we long for, what we pray for, and life as we experience it.

Living a real life is the cross we bear, not pretending there is no gap, resisting the false illusion we can overcome with our own power, as Peter longs to do.

But God meets us there, in this gap, with real hope, with real joy, with sacrifices we make glad for the honor of it.

For us Jesus goes to the cross to show us the cross is not an end but a beginning, real, holy.  

We are here to give our lives away and to gain life, this is Holy Baptism.

We are here for grace because we all need real grace,
for forgiveness because we all need real forgiveness, this is Holy Communion. 

Today we see the invisible appear before our eyes, the gap closed for just a moment, and we call it Holy because it is real and true and good.

Aivon and Calvin and Shawn are beloved of God, as are we all.

The gap is real, but in this moment we see it filled, and this too is real, holy, sacred.

To live real lives is the cross we bear, to deny our longing for power and control, to accept suffering when it visits us, to make sacrifices for the sake of compassion, to follow Jesus Christ toward the cross and there to find real life everlasting.  

Thanks be to God.

As If! | Proper 16A , Time after Pentecost +16 | August 23, 2026

Despite Pharaoh’s tyrannical decrees to oppress and destroy the Hebrew people, his cruel plans are continuously undermined by the quiet, courageous defiance of women. Midwives Shiphrah and Puah use Pharaoh’s own prejudices against him to save newborn boys, while young Miriam and Pharaoh’s own daughter conspire to rescue the infant Moses from the Nile. God's power operates through human compassion and unexpected acts of bravery, proving that systemic cruelty is no match for the defiant strength of everyday people.

She named him Moses, “because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”

Thus the Great Liberator, Lawgiver, is named by Pharoah’s own daughter.

His name we know, and his story knows too…

God hearing the Hebrews cries stuffing the tyrannical power of Pharaoh,

resonating through the ages with American slaves bitterly oppressed by tyrannical masters.

Go down, Moses, way down to Egyptland.

Tell old, Pharoah, 

Let my people go.

Moses we know, but what about Shiphrah and Puah?  

What about Miriam, his big sister?  

Pharoah fears the Hebrews because they thrive, so grow in numbers they outnumber his own people. 

He cruelly oppresses them, thinking they will fail to thrive, have fewer children, thus solving the problem of their growing numbers.  

But the more his taskmaster oppress them, the more they thrive

….they keep on marrying and having children,

singing and dancing and making music, chasing away the sorrow of bitter toil, 

Cruelty is weakness, as we know from our own experience with school-yard bullies; they appear strong, but we know better–their days are numbered

As we know Pharaoh’s days are numbered.

When oppressive toil fails, he then turns to genocide and Epstien-like exploitation, to kill all newborn Hebrew boys but to let only girls live. 

Fool that he is, his plans depend on Hebrew MIDWIVES, 

Shiphrah and Puah…

Shiphrah whose name translates to Beauty.

And Puah whose name means gurgle, as with the cooing sounds mothers make to sooth a child.

Pharoah tells Beauty and Soothing Comfort 

When you act as midwives to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birthstool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, she shall live.”

As if!

Beauty and Soothing Comfort are MIDWIVES, whose lives are devoted to taking care of pregnant women,
who are with them when they give birth,
who teach them how to care for and to nurse their newborns.

Of course they defy Pharoah–how can they not? 

When Pharoah calls them to account for themselves Beauty and Soothing Comfort say:

“Because the Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women; for they are vigorous and give birth before [we come] to them.”

Vigorous here means that Hebrew women are like animals, not human, needing no help during childbirth..

Hebrew women, they tell him, are like beasts–before we can get to them they drop another baby and are already gone, they say.  

They can see how Pharoah sees them, but he cannot see them.

…sees only who he imagines them to be, animals, less than human..

Cruelty depends upon compliance, the seed of its own downfall.

Pharoah can’t see that they make a fool of him; he can’t imagine they would defy him and they know it; cannot imagine they outsmart him, which they certainly do–they see his weakness and use his weakness against him.

Weak fool that his is, he doubles-down:

decreeing that entire population is to fling any Hebrew male child into the Nile to feed the crocodiles 

….as if…he can enlist an entire population to do such a thing….

***

All the while, the Hebrew continue to thrive.

One Hebrew couple has their first child, a girl, Miriam.

Next born, a boy.

Because she is wise to Pharoah’s decree, his mother hides him until his cries can no longer be silenced…

Then she fashions a little ark, and sets him afloat into the reeds,
perfectly timed for when the Pharoah’s daughter bathes with her maids.

She sends little Mariam into the reeds to look out for him, ready for when the bathing women hear him crying. 

Hearing his cries, Pharoah’s daughter sends her maid out   

Not to push it out into the current…

Not, in obedience to her father, to fling the child to the crocodiles,

But to save him.

She knows what she is doing…

She opens the ark and sees the child. He was crying, and she takes pity on him. She says “This must be one of the Hebrews’ children.”

She knows what she is doing.  

Though it is his own daughter, Pharoah cannot imagine her or any other Egyptian not obeying his command.  

Cruelty is no match for compassion–it is the shape of the human soul, the image of God imprinted within us.  

“This must be one of the Hebrews’ children,” she says

Just then Miriam steps forward….

“Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?”

Such courage. Such bravery.  

Pharoah’s cruelty is no match for the courageous bravery of this little girl.

God’s power moves not through the powerful, 

but in unexpected, overlooked people…like little Miriam. 

“Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?”

Yes, the Pharoah’s daughter replies.

Her yes to little Miriam is a defiant No to her father.  

Miriam goes and fetches her mother

who surely nursed her boy before she set him afloat, whose cries were answered by her bodily need to nurse him now.  

Do you think it would be possible for the Pharaoh’s daughter NOT, just by looking at her, to know she is the child’s mother?

When the hungry child is put into her arms and reaches up to her to be nursed again could Pharoah’s NOT have known?  

A Shiphrah and Puah know, so Pharaoh’s daughter knows,

They and little Miriam and the child’s mother conspire against Pharoah, which he could imagine.

He cannot control them any more than he can control water, like the power of God flows and flows and flows and will flow over him, fool that he is, cruelty ensures his demise.   

When we think of the majestic, almighty power of God, 

we imagine it as an overpowering force somehow, 

parting the Red Sea, 

to end human suffering, stop genocide, 

But God works through human compassion 

Power flowing from human hearts…

Tyrants cannot imagine compassion as power,
believe cruelty secures compliance, 

Shirphah and Puah do not comply

Courageous, brave little Miriam secures Moses’s rise and Pharoah’s downfall.

His own daughter defies him, and in time raises Moses in Pharoah’s own household.

Yes, we know the story of Moses leading the Hebrews dry shod across the Red Sea, the Red Seas sweeping away Pharaoh and his charioteers.  

But the story begins in small acts of defiance and courage and bravery of unexpected people, of compassion which unites all people against foolish tyrant’s weak cruelty.

Thanks be to God. 

Learning Surprise | Proper 15A , Time after Pentecost +11 | August 16, 2026


This surprising story reveals Jesus challenging the boundaries of religious tradition and, through his encounter with a Canaanite woman, confronting his own assumptions about who belongs within God’s mission. Her persistent faith opens Jesus’ heart, leading him to recognize that God’s grace extends beyond Israel to all people, and that even Jesus can learn, grow, and be transformed. The story calls us to keep our hearts open to surprise, allowing grace to challenge our ideas of fairness, abundance, and belonging so that we, too, may be transformed into something larger than ourselves

A surprising story in five parts.

Part one. 

Jesus offends religious leaders…

Saying it is not how well they follow the traditions passed down to them, but by what they say.

What defiles and corrupts is about the heart, about desires, about what is inside.  

Nothing surprising here.

Nothing new about Jesus challenging religious leaders whose hearts are closed to new revelation, whose authority relies upon upholding the traditions of the religious community no matter the expense to others.  

Part two: 

Jesus goes to Tyre and Sidon, into gentile territory for the first time. 

A definition. 

Gentile means simply other people, people not like us, who we do not understand, not part of us, of “we.”

Those people. Them. They.  Outsiders.  

When a Canaanite woman–a gentile woman– shouts “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon….”

Jesus ignores her, does not answer her at all.

Surprised?

Jesus ignoring her faith, ignoring the pleas of a mother on behalf of her child?

Is this what we expect of Jesus?

to ignore her prayer, to turn a deaf ear to her pain, her distress.

Isn’t Jesus the one who says let the children come…

What about the Canaanite woman’s child?

No surprise, following his cue, the disciple urge him to send her away so she will stop bothering them with her loud prayers.

As if to justify himself in much the same way the religious leaders justify themselves, Jesus says: 

“I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”  

The matter would seem to be resolved with Jesus teaching the disciples to ignore her, justified dismissing her because he is doing the will of the father.  

Part three: Many shocking surprises.  

The woman kneels at his feet and prays the same prayer we heard Peter pray as he begins sinking and cries out…

Lord help me.

Jesus does not reach out to her as with Peter, but instead says to her

“It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”

Three surprises.

First, fair?

Since when does Jesus advocate for fairness?

Is it fair for the last to be first?

Is the kingdom of God about fairness?

Is grace about fairness? Is forgiveness?

Second, is there not enough food for all? 

Hasn’t Jesus already demonstrated there is more than enough for all by feeding the multitude?  

Why then does talk of wasting food on gentiles as if there is not enough food for all?  

And third, cover the children’s ears.

He calls her a dog, this woman…calls a woman a dog…

Is this speaking from the heart?  

Is this not like what he condemns religious leaders of doing?

Part four.  Which should come as no surprise, and yet keeps on surprising us: Jesus learns something new.

To Jesus insulting, derogatory words, the woman replies:

“Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

Any dog owners here?

Not a new thing, loving dogs, having them in the house.

Rumba’s are new. Vacuum cleaners are new. Buying dog food at the grocery store, that is new.

Imagine the scene, a family sitting down to eat, a little dog under the table, hoovering up what falls from the table, or more likely, getting fed under the table by those who love the little critter.

Afterward, whatever is left over, the scrapes from the table, is given to the pup.

Part five at last, the most surprising, most wonderful, most grace-filled transformative moment.

Jesus hears her with his heart.

“Great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish,” he says, healing her daughter from that moment.

He learns from her, she changes him, transforms his ministry to something larger than it had been.

No longer will he minister only to the lost sheep of Israel, and this is new. 

It is not possible to learn with a closed heart,
not possible to be transformed by surprises,
like the challenge of the Canaanite woman
when challenges are ignored and dismissed

when hearts are closed to surprise.

Yes, even Jesus has something to learn.

He sets out sure of what is supposed to do and justifies himself as righteously doing the father’s will.

But his heart is opened by the surprising faith of the Canaanite woman, and because his heart is open he is transformed; he will no longer minister only to his own people, but also to other people, to gentiles.

Grace is a surprise, after all, and new, ever changing, ever challenging.

The way of Christ is to open our hearts and learn and in learning be transformed, renewed, our world expanded, our sense of mission far-reaching. 

To be open to surprise, as Jesus is open, is to have an open heart not closed by our sense of how it ought to be, 

about what is fair in our accounting, 

about insisting there is not enough for all. 

Open hearts transform our narrow focus on ourselves,
makes our world bigger,
helps us through grace to learn with Jesus to hear the cries of those who are left out, ignored, dismissed.

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ is always surprising and challenging, transforming us into something larger than ourselves. 

For this God sent him into the world, which is the greatest surprise of all.   

Thanks be to God. 

Deep Faith | Proper 14A , Time after Pentecost +10 | August 9, 2026

The story of Jesus walking on water emphasizes that faith and discipleship are not about safety or calm seas, but about taking risks and trusting God amid uncertainty and trouble. Peter’s willingness to step out of the boat allows him to experience both the vulnerability of sinking and the saving presence of Jesus, while his courage strengthens the faith of the entire community. The story reminds us that when the winds are against us, God has not abandoned us, and the courage of one person’s faith can become a gift that strengthens us all.

Our two-part story began last week in the aftermath of John the Baptist beheading for telling the truth about the tyrant Herod.  

A multitude gathers from the surrounding villages looking for Jesus, who has gone alone to a deserted place to pray

but compassion for them draws him to them away from his own need to be alone and pray.

It is getting late; the disciples want to send them away to buy food for themselves, but Jesus feeds them with five loaves and two fish the disciples have brought. 

The first part ends with the disciples gathering up twelve baskets of bread, one basket for each of them.

The second part begins after all have been fed, when Jesus puts the disciples in a boat,  likely with twelve baskets of bread for their journey, telling them to go ahead, he will meet them on the other side…

He then dismisses the crowds and returns to a deserted place to pray.

As the sun sets, and through the night, he remains alone in prayer…

But through the night the winds change, blowing against the boat so they make no headway toward the other side.

They find themselves in the middle of the tumultuous seas through the long night.  

Morning comes, but the wind remains against them,
the seas remain in tumult….

As Jesus left his place of prayer to care for the multitude,
he now leaves his place of prayer to care for the disciples.

But as he walks toward them, they are fear-stricken, 

and who can blame them.

They believe they are seeing a ghost and cry out in terror

…which Jesus hears and answers…

“Take heart. It is I; do not be afraid.”

As is if to test whether they can believe it is Jesus, Peter says..

“Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

What boldness; what courage.

Jesus says, “Come.” 

He steps out of the boat, begins walking toward Jesus,
but is soon distracted, loses heart, starts sinking, and cries out, “Lord Save me!”

If Peter had not ventured forth, had not obeyed the call to walk on the water, then he would never have had this great opportunity for recognition of Jesus, for rescue by Jesus

Peter stepping out of the boat, implies if we want to be close to Jesus, we have to venture forth out on to troubled seas, we have to prove the promises through trusting his promises, 

through risk and venture to deepen our faith, to find again…

when we come to the end of ourselves, we begin with God.  

Faith is a risky venture, found not in the safety of the boat

Like the disciples we may well set out expecting smooth sailing over glassy seas to the other side.

Or, we may even come to believe God is with us when the wind is at our backs safely carrying us forward.

We may even come to believe the opposite,

When we struggle against the wind, when the seas are troubled, that God has abandoned us.

We may even fail to recognize Jesus who comes to us in times of trouble, may be seized terror, huddling together afraid all is lost.  

Peter’s courage helps us to see what it means to follow Jesus,

Safety?

No, not that.

Calm? 

No, not that either.

Faith is risk, discipleship is a venture.

Times when the wind is against us are to be expected rather than feared, 

The tumult of life, times of dark aloneness, like the disciples on the sea at night, do not mean that we are going the wrong way, that God is not paying attention, that all is lost.  

And yet, dear friends, remember the eleven, who have lost heart, who are terrified…

Imagine what it means for their faith to find that Jesus is not a ghost, imagine what it means for them to see Peter brought dripping wet into the boat, and for Jesus to calm the troubled seas…

Then they worship him.  Then they see he is the Son of God….

In much the same way Jesus feeds the hungry multitude he feeds the faith and courage of the disciples who do not step out of the boat, who do not test their faith.

Their faith is deepened because of Peter’s faith, because he steps out and succeeds for a moment and also because he sinks and is pulled out of the water a baptized believer.

We are all in this together; the promises of God are given to all of us in this boat of faith we call the church.  

We are invited to take risky ventures in faith, stepping away from safety and into troubled waters where our faith is sure to be deepened because God promises to save us.

The courage of one is a gift to all, as the promises of God are given to one and all..

We can’t all be like Peter, but we can begin to see faith as a risk and discipleship as a venture, to step out in faith trusting ourselves to God.

We might well think that the eleven in the boat learn from Peter’s bold example as we do, and in other trying times, facing other winds, they like us will remember Peter’s boldness and step out in faith as we are all called to do. 

Thanks be to God.

Disruptive Kingdom | Proper 12 Time after Pentecost +9 | July 26, 2026

Summary: Jesus teaches in parables not to obscure the truth, but to disrupt comfortable assumptions and awaken those who are genuinely open to the Kingdom of God, especially amid the political, religious, and social tensions of his time. Through images that are surprising, unsettling, and even paradoxical, the parables expose the conflict between God's kingdom and the world's familiar systems of power, inviting listeners beyond passive curiosity into active faith and transformation. Rather than offering easy answers, Jesus' parables challenge us to see the world through the values of the Kingdom—where humility, sacrifice, mercy, and wholehearted devotion become the true treasure worth giving everything to possess

Why parables?

Why not teach in ways easier to understand, more straightforward.

Why does Jesus choose to teach with riddle-like unclarity, obfuscation, a kind secret code, as with the Kingdom parables 

Parables born of conflict between the new Jesus brings into the world and  the world as it is….

This conflict is real, not just a matter of fear, 

living in the awful shadow of Rome as the jewish people do 

means keeping a low profile—nothing worse for all than for a few to draw the attention of Rome…

Religious leaders help to keep order as a matter of survival, they are the heart of a vulnerable community…

These religious leaders, Pharisees,  maintain this not because they are bad people, but because they are responsible, caring people who want what is best for their community.

The Kingdom of God is a different kind of order. 

As when the disciples are hungry ON THE SABBATH and they pluck grains of wheat to eat on the sabbath, bringing condemnation from the Pharisees. 

Then, again on the Sabbath, Jesus heals a man with a paralytic hand, leading to yet more conflict with the Pharisees…

Then, when casts out a demon, not on the Sabbath, the Pharisees say he has been given the power to do this not by God but by Beelzebul.  

These kinds of conflicts draw a crowd, who begin following him to see what next he will do, a crowd so large that Jesus is forced to sit in a boat and the crowd along the lakeshore teaching them as they sit along the lakeshore and on the hillside.  …

With this crowd gathered, with the opportunity of this large audience, why parables?   

Likely as not, as with any crowd, there are many who are there for the carnival of it … looking for a show…

There are those, too, who are alert and looking for something, for what they are not sure…

Then, of course there are the disciples whose lives have already been disrupted by Jesus, they have left their families and businesses and homes to follow him.

Parables capture this disruption, friction between what is familiar with what is unfamiliar, between what is known and what is beyond knowing, creating a state of doubt, teasing our minds into active thought, 

separating the sheep from the goats, the wheats from the tares, those who are open to the kingdom of god from those who are along for the carnival of it.  

Action is required; openness is called for; disruption is the way it begins….

Maybe the world is not as it seems to be…

Maybe power need not be used to control and dominate but can be used to lift up and to set free…

Maybe what seems right and true and obvious is merely a comforting illusion to keep us compliant.  

The Kingdom of Heaven is like a mustard seed,

sown in a field,

growing so large that birds nest in it?

Mustard is a weed—think dandelions, purple loosestrife, or that cursed wild parsnip.  

The weed is neglected so it grows so large that birds nest in it, birds that will eat that grain that grows in the field….

This is like the Kingdom of God? 

How?  

Like a treasure found and reburried, 

like a pearl of great price discovered,

both so valued, so cherished that

….recklessly, heedlessly…passionately

Everything is sold for the value of the one thing,.  

The wildness of the parables Jesus tells cannot be tamed, 

they challenge the certainties we choose to live by,
the ways we turn away from the conflicts and disruption and passionate focus of the Kingdom of God, our treasure, our pearl of great price. 

Disruption is uncomfortable, disturbing, which is the point….

How are we to believe that God comes to us in the form of those who are hungry or thirsty or without shelter…

not as what we see with our eyes, but what we see in the Kingdom of God.

How are we to trust the power of humility, of service, of sacrifice, so treasured in the Kingdom of God if we are unwilling to be disrupted and disturbed from the familiar and comfortable illusions that lull us into inactions.

Why does Jesus teach in parables?

To disrupt our way of seeing, of hearing, of believing, the traditions and customs and normal order of things that tame the wild passion revealeld in Jesus Christ.  

Floating on a boat, with his own disciples close at hand and others yet known spread out over the hill side, Jesus says 

The kingdom of God is like the net cast into the sea catching fish to keep and fish to throw back, 

not just love and grace and easy acceptance for everyone and everything, 

but rather the mercy of judgment to startle us awake, 

to open our eyes and ears so that like the disciples before us, 

to disrupt the easy flow of life that is the water we swim in.  

To us, to the known disciples then, to those on the hillside who will become disciples, 

Jesus asks,

“Have you understood all this?” Jesus asks the disciples, 

They answer, “Yes.”

And he said to them, 

“Therefore every scribe who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.”

New and old together….

The scribe becomes a disciple, and this is the Kingdom of God, Thanks be to God.  

Distinctive Rock | A Proper 11, Time after Pentecost + 8 | July 19 202

Summary.  The ancient formation of Baraboo quartzite with the deep, parallels the layered history of scripture and human faith. Just as quartzite is shaped over eons into a distinct, resilient foundation despite its impurities, believers are formed through history, carrying both saintliness and sinfulness. Our faith and hope in God as an unseen yet enduring rock, relinquishing human judgment to rest in divine grace that feeds and sustains the world.

One of the ways scholars describe scripture is as sedimentary layers,
layers of rock formed over millinia, each layer representing an eon of time.

On the surface, we can’t see it, but there are places where the story of time is exposed in sedimentary layers of rock.  

Like  Baraboo hills…

Baraboo Quartzite.

The Wisconsin Geologic and Natural History Survey says:

“Before the ice ages, before the Age of Dinosaurs, before the sandy beaches and coral reefs of the Paleozoic Era came the first few billion years of Wisconsin’s geologic history. 

These early years contain dramatic stories of volcanoes, shifting continents, and even microbial life. In this earliest eon, the Baraboo Quartzite began as sand on an ancient beach, which had eroded from volcanoes towering above what is now Sauk County. 

This sand solidified into sandstone, which was then squished and squeezed deep underground until the grains of sand fused together to create a new rock—quartzite—that preserved the sandy environment in stone.” 

The prophet Isaiah says: 

“Do not fear or be afraid; have I not told you from of old and declared it? You are my witnesses! Is there any god besides me? There is no other rock; I know not one.”

“Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide, myself in thee.”

“Your name is Peter, and upon this Rock I will build my church.”

Timeless and enduring, and yet easily missed, we walk on land formed through eons, loam and sand resting on rock below, and yet there are times of hardship when we become aware, if only for a moment, of the rock upon which we stand.

The Apostle Paul gives it another name–hope–but this hope like the ground we walk on is both present and hidden, saying…

“Now hope that is seen is not hope, for who hopes for what one already sees?”

In this hope with the Psalmist we pray

“But you, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.”

… a prayer for rescue when we have exhausted our own capacity to save ourselves, when we are looking for rock to stand on, by faith to stand firm though our feet are but clay.

Hold all of this in mind, this complexity we all know between what we pray for and what we experience, our longing for proof that our hope is not in vain when our family fail us, suffering abounds, wars rage, and the world spins out of control

Keep in mind rock formed through the ages, scripture formed through the ages, and hear hope in these devastating words:

Jesus says:

“Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age.

The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” 

This is not rock, but the ground we walk on, the human desire for moral judgement, for righteousness to be rewarded and wickedness to be punished.

The Gospel of Matthew speaks to the first church getting its start, roots growing from the seeds of Jesus’ teachings…

and in the early church…as with the church in every age, we can look around and see weeds growing…

… our human longing is to root out the evil in others though we are all rooted together, growing together, in Luther’s famous phrasing

“we are saints and sinners alike,” both wheat and tares….

Weeping and gnashing of teeth and consuming fire is a grace for us as for the early church inviting us to trust ourselves judgement to God alone…

In hope to trust God to find the good growing in us and make bread of us to feed others.

Matthew speaks to believers like us who hope as the Apostle Paul encourages to hope, not in what we can see but in what is unseen….

the rock of our salvation that is the very ground we walk on, 

our belief when we hear “weeping and gnashing of teeth” that God is our rock…

… merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.

We need not fear the judgment of God, and yet we rely on the judgement of God to free us from judging ourselves for the many ways we are lacking…

…to free us from those who would presume to judge us as if they themselves are not lacking..

No, we are wheat and tares alike.

…we trust ourselves to God’s mercy, in hope of what we cannot see and yet is the rock upon which we stand.  

***

Baraboo quartzite is unlike quartzite from anywhere else in the world.

Because it contains iron and other impurities,
it is distinctively dark purple to maroon.  

It is distinctive also in the way it tells the story of its formation, 

ripple marks that appear visually similar to the patterns one might see in the sand at a beach, from which it was formed. 

Baraboo quartzite was mined to build northern railroads, along the Mississippi, to transport grain and other goods to feed and sustain the world.

St. Paul’s is not the first church founded on the rock of ages,
and yet we are as distinctive as the  colorful, rippling quartzite of this region 

…because of our own impurities, 

….because we are marked together by the rippling sands of time that form us.  

We might think of the rock mined to build railroads as our faithful hope that the worship and grace and service distinctive to St. Paul’s, along with our collective impurities, 

are beautifully colorful to God, 

and trust ourselves to the judgement of God, 

though faith and in hope believe that in Christ and through us, 

God is feeding the world as God has done since before began and will do even to the end of age.

Thanks be to God.

St. Paul’s Newsletter | August 2026

Interim times present opportunities for transformation and renewal, but these kinds of changes are no easier for us than they were for Nicodemus. 

Change brings Nicodemus to Jesus.  

He can see God at work in Jesus in a new way, “no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with that person” (John 3:2d).

Jesus says Nicodemus must be born from above. But spiritual rebirth, transformation from one state of being to another, is beyond human control.

The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. –John 3:8

When by faith we are open to rebirth in the Spirit, we transcend our own human limitations, as Nicodemus does.  But as Jesus explains, these transformations are like being born all over again, like being born from above.  

The Spirit leads us forward in the life-long process of transformation and spiritual rebirth–change born of the Spirit neither by our own choice nor according to our own timing.   

Times of change, of Spirit-led transformation, are uncomfortable, distressing, moving us from the familiar comforts we know to the new life God brings into being through us.  

During this time of transition, I pray St. Paul’s will seek to remain open and active. An active church is an attractive church, a quality pastoral candidates are looking for, a sign the congregation is ready to join with a new Pastor as they follow the same Spirit that brings them together.

Though it may seem otherwise, this time of transition for St. Paul’s is a gift. St. Paul’s is given the opportunity to follow the Spirit, which will transform us as it transformed Nicodemus.  

He was not the same, neither will we be. What this means for St. Paul’s, I can’t say.

The wind blows where it chooses.

Doing No Good Proper 09, Time After Pentecost +6 | July 5, 2026

Summary: In this first sermon at St. Paul's in Baraboo, Pr. Craig introduces the tension between the Apostle Paul's honest confession of human weakness in Romans and Jesus' promise of rest in Matthew. Through the story of a congregation whose ministry to homeless families ended in disappointment and exhaustion, Pr. Craig shows how even our best efforts cannot guarantee the outcomes we hope for. The good news is that Christians are not responsible for perfect results but are called to trust God's grace and mercy, finding rest in Christ rather than in the impossible burden of trying to make everything right on our own.

Today is but our third day together.

Wednesday, my first day with you, council members were waiting to welcome me as I walked in the door, representing you all with a warm welcome.

Sue was also here to greet me, to go over hymns with me, wearing her Ringling Theater shirt.

And then Alice and I set to work preparing for today.

Thanks to Alice, we are ready to worship
not only in the liturgy which sustains us, but with the AC working. 

On my second day, for the first time I went home by way of the Merrimac Ferry and had my first ice-cream cone.  

The drive to the ferry was a delight, this is such beautiful country,

I am looking forward to taking hikes and learning more about Baraboo that is new to me, and learning about the life and worship and ministry of St. Paul’s, and the new things we will learn together. 

Well, my first Sunday with St. Paul’s seems a fitting day to turn to St. Paul’s famous words in the Epistle to the Romans.

“I do not understand my own actions.
For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.

For I know that the good does not dwell within me, that is, in my flesh.

For the desire to do the good lies close at hand, but not the ability.

For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.”

Words which seem in conflict with those of in Gospel of Matthew:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,
for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me,
for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

***

Several years ago I was involved in starting a Family Promise ministry….

13 churches worked together to provide shelter and food and help with finding employment for families suffering homelessness

Each of the 13 churches took a turn 4 weeks a year hosting these families.

About as good a thing as a church can do.

The church of Jesus Christ lightening the heavy burdens of generational poverty.  

The good people of the church I was serving

—let’s call it St. Matthews, since this is our Gospel today–

”St. Matthews” had an empty parsonage which they gladly prepared for these families, and the good people of that congregation signed up for shifts to fill 24 hours for the whole week.

The rare chance to do something so very good
that we had no problem at all filling slots each of our 4 weeks.

On Monday, breakfast was served, lunches were packed, and everyone was gone by 7:30, children off to school and parents either off to work or to a day center for help finding a job.  

They returned about 4.

The good people of St. Matthew’s were there to greet families and play with the children as dinner was prepared.

One particular day, two lovely souls we’ll call Helen and Ellen had signed up to help.

Helen brought her two young girls with her to play with the children as Ellen prepared beef stroganoff lovingly made in her home kitchen.

While Helen and her girls were playing with the children,
one of the guest parents yelled something profane at her child,
snatched up the child and whipped her child right in front of Helen and her frightened girls. 

When the families set down to to homemade beef stroganoff,
they looked at the dish bewildered and uncomfortable,

Pushed the food around on their plates,
left most of it uneaten. 

Then while Ellen was doing the dishes the families ate what else they could find…hot dogs and cold cereal, energy bars that were to be used for their sack lunches the next day

Helen was heartbroken; Ellen was outraged.  

After the first year, St. Matthews withdrew from the Family Promise;  it could no longer sign-up enough people to serve homeless families.

***

To whom are Christ’s words addressed when he says, “Come to me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Surely, homeless families, struggling under the heavy burdens of generational poverty…

Surely, too, the good people of St. Matthew, who did all they could do, yet grew weary of the weight of their work.

But then surely also Jesus speaks to us here at St. Paul’s,
and to other churches like ours,

who are weighed down by worry over the future of our churches

wearied by the questions of what it means to follow Christ in these bewildering times. 

St. Paul answers for the first churches who were as confused and bewildered as we are:

I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.

Sin he calls it, not small actions or behaviors,
but our common human condition, our flesh is the way St. Paul speaks of it, the law of the flesh, which captures us and which we cannot be free of.

We can’t help believing that when we do good and follow the rules, good should be the result, and this belief makes us vulnerable when the result does not match our own expectations

and the expectations others put on our shoulders.

***

What seems to be a conflict between what Jesus says and what St. Paul says is indeed in conflict, but in this conflict lies grace and good news.

We are not asked to solve the conflict between the promises Jesus makes and the reality of what it is like for us when we encounter our own human limitations.

We are asked instead to accept that none of us are pure,
that none of us has the capacity on our own to do good,

We we are accountable to God alone,
who judges us with steadfast mercy and grace.

We are not asked to change the world but to change our hearts,
to give up the burdensome illusion that is it all up to us
as if we were the first Christians to be weighed down by burdens too heavy to bear.

St. Paul’s words resonate with our longing and yet our inability to make everything right in the church and in the world

Our mission is to trust God through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Results are are not our responsibility, and this is grace;
we are in no position to judge, and this is mercy. 

Jesus invites us to rest in him free of the ways we judge ourselves and from the judgements of others… 

For, as St. Paul says, the desire to do the good lies close at hand, but not the ability.

***

After the first year, The Family Promise ministry of St. Matthew’s ended because the longing to do good was too heavy a burden.

For a young mother to expose her children to seeing other children mistreated, for them to hear profane language, 

was too much to bear…

For someone who loves to feed people, the sound of the refrigerator and  the cupboards opening and shutting was too much to bear.

By the end of the year, it was all too much to bear,
so the good that we all wanted to do we did not do.

***

I am very glad to say that the Family Promise ministry did not end but carried on, 

other churches stepped in to ensure there were 13 congregations providing food and shelter to families suffering homelessness.

I like to think the ministry carried on because there are many good people like us who gather in worship and like us confess their sin and give to God in Christ the burden that it is up us alone, 

The conflict between the law of flesh and the gospel of Christ cannot be resolved.

It is the conflict of the cross, the source of our salvation, 

a grace and a mercy, 

setting us free the from sin and death 

of believing the good lies within us, 

when it is Christ at work through us that lightens burdens for all: thanks be to God.

Playing The Part | Ash Wednesday 2026

While we often think of hypocrites as public figures exposed for moral failure, Jesus points to something deeper. The word “hypocrite” comes from Greek drama and means “actor” — someone who wears a mask and plays a part. It is about pretending, appearing one way outwardly while hiding what is real within.

This kind of masking is common. We all play roles at times, sometimes out of politeness or self-protection. But over time, loneliness, pain, and fear can harden into masks of anger, resentment, and judgment. When we focus on fixing others or pointing out their faults, we avoid facing our own need for forgiveness and healing. We trap ourselves in old patterns because humility feels threatening.

Religion, rightly practiced, is not about performance or public piety. It is meant to protect us from the human tendencies that separate us from God and one another. At its heart is the radical truth that no one is better than anyone else — humility is the currency of the Kingdom of God.

The sign of the cross placed on our foreheads is not a performance for others. It is a personal and communal reminder that there is no room for pretending. It marks the beginning of an inward journey of repentance and honesty. In that visible moment, we acknowledge our shared humanity: we are dust, and to dust we shall return.

Lent begins with humility — removing the mask, embracing our need for grace, and following Jesus, the humanity of God.

The cross on our foreheads isn’t for others to see.
It’s for us to remember.