The Lord God took [the humans] and put [them] in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it. 16 And the Lord God commanded [them], “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; 17 but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”
~Genesis 2:15-17

[Jesus] answered, “It is written,
‘One does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”
~Matthew 4:4

Labyrinth indeed! To eat or not to eat… And why? Perhaps we associate Lent with wilderness because, in the invitation to shed what we do not need for survival, what we do not need for the journey, we begin to realize that much of what we thought was essential is, in truth, burden. The wisdom of wildnerness is that we may already have what we need. The wisdom of Lent is to open ourselves to the discovery of what truly makes for life amidst all that doesn’t, and may, indeed, take it away.

What are you hungering for these days?
​​
Enter into worship.
 
Readings: Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7 † Psalm 32 † Romans 5:12-19 † Matthew 4:1-11
 
About the Art: Moyers, Mike. Lenten Labyrinth, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57142 [retrieved February 12, 2026]. Original source: Mike Moyers, https://www.mikemoyersfineart.com/.

“Thus it is written, ‘The first human, Adam, became a living soul’; the last Adam became a spirit that gives life.”
~1 Corinthians 15:45
 
Humility, vulnerability, authenticity. Three words that draw us into this ancient practice of Lent, of lengthening, of extending and filling out our lives with newness in the same way that the light of day lengthens in Lent. Plants emerge from winter’s rest to explore new growth, new forms of possibility.
 
Humility, comes from hummus—dust, earth, soil—from which we became and to which we return according to the stories of our elders: Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes.
 
Vulnerability. From the Latin vulnus: wound. Indeed, to live is to be wounded, and to (be) heal(ed). To be subject to power and designs greater than ours. To be fully-formed creatures.
 
Authenticity. From the Greek authentes: from two words, autos or self and hentes or doing. One acting on one’s own authority. We are agents with agency, actors with purpose to enact. We are powerful.
 
So here we are, at the doorway to Lent, dusty, wounded, powerful ones seeking to be all that we are, all that we are created to be.
 
Enter into worship. Enter into Lent.
 
Join us this Wednesday evening at 7:00pm in person or online.
 
Readings: Joel 2:1-2,12-17 or Isaiah 58:1-12 † Psalm 51:1-17 † 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10 † Matthew 6:1-6,16-21
 
 
About the Art: Moyers, Mike. Ash, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57140 [retrieved January 27, 2026]. Original source: Mike Moyers, https://www.mikemoyersfineart.com/.
 
From the Artist: A painting depicting the cross of ashes imposed on Ash Wednesday. The painting style conveys the themes of mortality, brokenness, and our need of Gods grace. 
 
Mike Moyers loves to paint with the palette knife to keep his work loose, textured and bold. His deepest passion is to use art to communicate matters of faith. From his website: I firmly believe that art is a communion with the soul. Through my art, I strive to make known the beauty and wonder of life and faith. The pieces in this exhibit are inspired by things that have touched my life in a meaningful way. They range from plein air and impressionism to abstract and conceptual. My hope is to successfully communicate those inspirations so that you might be touched as well

​The Lord said to Moses, “Come up to me on the mountain, and wait there.
~Exodus 24:12a
 
…suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”
~Matthew 17:5
 
Before Christmas, before Easter, there was Transfiguration. Paralleled in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and referenced in Second Peter, it is one of the oldest feast days in the early church and, according to the scholarship, predates what are now these more dominant stories in the Christian calendar. What are we to make of this?
 
The hunger for encounter, for the exploration of the edges of our human experience and the meeting of the numinous, the mysterious, the holy that we hope and expect to encounter there reveals something of the hungers of heart and soul, the inner landscape of our lives. We seem to understand reflexively that we need to do our “edge work” if we are going to live life well, if we are going to be ok. We seem to know intuitively that our capacity to love and be loved absolutely requires following the story to the very precipices of life, and to the astonishing and transforming vision of the tender love and amazing grace we encounter there.
 
Enter into worship.
 
Readings: Exodus 24:12-18 † Psalm 2 † 2 Peter 1:16-21 † Matthew 17:1-9
 
About the Art: Moyers, Mike. Be Thou My Vision, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57145 [retrieved February 4, 2026]. Original source: Mike Moyers, https://www.mikemoyersfineart.com/.

"A life not lived for others is not a life.”
~Mother Teresa
 
[God] has told you, O mortal, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?.
~Micah 6:8
 
Do justice. Love kindness. Walk humbly. These are the simple, straightforward behaviors at the heart of true religion according to Micah.
 
Jesus’ words to the crowds in Matthew 5:1-12—the Beatitudes, or “blessings”—expand on Micah’s shorthand while also echoing the Torah, the commandments of Moses.
 
Interestingly, Jesus does not speak these as commands. He doesn’t speak them as if they are requirements of a demanding, record-keeping God, but as statements of fact, as a preexisting and confoundingly counter-intuitive reality. Blessed are the poor? The mourners? The hungry? Thomas Merton thought a better translation for meek was nonviolent. Blessed are the nonviolent? They will inherit the earth. Here, perhaps we can begin to make some cognitive leap toward what Jesus seems to be naming in Matthew—an upside-downness of this Way of Christ that turns us right-side up.
 
Enter into worship.
 
Readings: Micah 6:1-8 † Psalm 15 † 1 Corinthians 1:18-31 † Matthew 5:1-12
 
About the Art: Mother Theresa her Weapon : Relentless Compassion, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56291 [retrieved January 19, 2026]. Original source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/ladymissmarquise/4534743419.