What I’m Thinking: Temptation

Each Lent we tell the story of Jesus’ Temptation – because like Jesus, temptation is a part of our lives.

Here’s a transcript:

Lent begins this Wednesday, so I’m thinking about the fourth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 4:1-11). Each first Sunday in Lent, the Revised Common Lectionary tells the same gospel story (if from a different gospel each year). That story is the Temptation of Jesus.

As Matthew put it, after his baptism, Jesus went into the wilderness “to be tempted by the devil.” There were three of them that Matthew named. First, that the devil advised Jesus to transform stones into bread because he was hungry. The devil then invited Jesus to leap from a high place to demonstrate the protection of the angels to everybody else. Finally, the devil took him to a mountain and showed him all the realms of the earth, and said that they could be his if Jesus would just worship him: him, the devil. Jesus refused them all, and the devil left, and the angels came and ministered to Jesus.

Why did the editors of the lectionary place this story in front of us at the beginning of each Lent? I think it’s because it is a characteristic that we share with Jesus — not necessarily a direct encounter with a personification of temptation or evil (I suspect that those experiences are rare).

We do, however share with Jesus the experience of temptation, now don’t we? We know that there are times when we are invited to do things, to say things, to act in ways that are contrary to what God expects of us, to what society expects of us, to what our faith community expects of us, to what we expect of ourselves. Temptation may be small or it may be great. It can range from certain kinds of hungers to the temptation to ultimate power.

We share the experience of temptation with our Messiah.

Hopefully we also experience the resistance of temptation. Jesus did not rely solely upon his own inner strength to do so. He went back to the Scriptures. He went back to the things that he had been taught as a youth and as a young man: things that would help him to decide between what was right and what was wrong, what was good and what was better, what was fit to the circumstance and what would not help in this moment.

Somebody who is hungry should eat. That’s simply true. But in that temptation, Jesus refused to use his power to make stones into bread. And I think it could only be because he was tempted by the one he was tempted by.

So one of the questions for us is always: where is the temptation coming from? Are we hungry simply because we’re hungry, or are we in being invited to satisfy our hungers in ways that transform us into something we should not be? We should not be someone who exercises our power erratically or selfishly. We should be people who exercise our power on behalf of others.

Jesus resisted his temptations because he had the support of the wisdom of the ages and, of course, because he was he was. May we resist our temptations with the support of the wisdom of the ages, and with the aid of Jesus, who was who he was and is who he is in our lives.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: Mountaintop

Jesus and three of his disciples had a mountaintop experience of God’s presence and love. Can we bring our mountaintop experiences into our troubled times?

Here’s a transcript:

This Sunday is the last one before the beginning of Lent. That makes it Transfiguration Sunday, so I’m thinking about the seventeenth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 17:1-9), Matthew’s account of Jesus’ Transfiguration.

Jesus went up a mountain with his three closest friends: Peter, James, and John. While they were there, Jesus began to glow with some kind of inner light. Two other figures joined them on the mountain that they recognized as Moses and Elijah. Simon Peter offered to build some shelter and prolong the moment. A voice from a cloud, however, said that “This is my beloved son: Listen to him.” A moment later, the cloud was gone, the light was gone, Moses and Elijah were gone, and Jesus was saying to Peter, James, and John, “Get up, and do not be afraid.”

The Transfiguration of Jesus is a mystery. It has been a mystery since those first three disciples experienced it (alongside Jesus, of course). It was a mystery to them as they continued to follow him through Galilee and on to Jerusalem. I’m sure it was a mystery to those that they first told about it after Jesus’ resurrection. It was a mystery to Matthew, Mark, and Luke as they recorded it in their Gospels. And it’s been a mystery to all the rest of us over the centuries who have read it and sought to understand it — especially to those of us who have to preach about it.

We usually call significant religious experiences “mountain top experiences” based, in part, on this example from the Scriptures (there are other examples in the Scriptures as well). Mountains tend to be places where people have significant religious experiences, but they can have them in other places.

The point is that great epiphanies, great revelations of the heart and mind of God, are rare. We, most of the time live with the guidance we receive from Scripture, or from what we’ve been taught, from the example of other people around us. It’s not that common for a voice to sound from a cloud and say, “This is my beloved son: Listen to him.”

But most of us have something like that in our lives, some moment faith touched us more deeply than it had before, some kind of mountaintop experience unique to each one of us.

Hold on to the mountain top experience. Remember to bring its assurance down into the valley, not because the mountaintop experience makes you right about everything else, but because the mountaintop experience reminds you of the ever-present grace and love of God.

The first thing that Jesus said to his friends after that overwhelming experience was, “Do not be afraid.” Friends, I think that is what mountaintop experiences are for. When we’re down in the valleys and things are not going well, we can recall what we experienced that went so deep.

And in that memory we do not need to be afraid.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: Fulfilled

Jesus declared that he had come to fulfill the law and the prophets – and it’s worth remembering what the law and the prophets had insisted upon.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the fifth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 5:13-20), the continuation of the Sermon on the Mount. That began, as we heard last week, with the Beatitudes, that series of blessings. It continued with Jesus first saying to his listeners, “You are the light of the world,” and “The city on a hill cannot be hid…” “so let your light shine.”

Jesus then said that he had not come to abolish the Law or the Prophets, but to fulfill them. The ancient Law and the guidance of the prophets was still relevant hundreds of years after they had been driven or spoken to the people. And so it’s worth remembering some of the things that it says in Law and Prophets that I think do represent that true light that can be seen as it shines from a hill.

A lot of people will tend to tell you it’s all about idolatry, about worshipping foreign gods, and indeed, the Law and the Prophets were concerned with these. The Law and the Prophets, however, were also concerned with the way that we treat one another. Over and over again the Prophets raised the question: what is happening with the widows and the orphans? What is their condition?

It is the welfare of the most vulnerable in a society that measures how well it is following the directives of God. If the widows and the orphans are suffering, if the foreigner among you is oppressed, if people are cheating one another in the businesses and the marketplaces, if they are lying to one another: Well, that is a measure of a society that is failing to keep the word of God.

So many things we shortcut. I’m not talking about dietary regulations or things like that. I’m thinking about the ways that we kind of let things slide and not insist upon a real diligence in our own ethical behavior. Those are the kinds of things that Jesus was concerned about. Jesus always raised the bar. He increased the challenge.

So for us, I think, the question is not just how are the widows and the orphans doing, but how are those other people who fit into groups that are usually dismissed, disregarded, dishonored? How are they doing?

And if they’re not doing well, then we as a society are not doing well in fulfilling the will of God.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: Promise and Fulfillment

Transcript 1/27/2026

In the Beatitudes, Jesus said that people who were suffering were also blessed. It takes time to appreciate God’s presence.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about one of the best known passages in one of the best remembered sections of all the Scriptures. I’m thinking about the Beatitudes, which open the Sermon on the Mount in the fifth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 5:1-12).

I’m sure you’ll recognize probably most of these words:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven.

Familiar, I’m sure. Familiar and comforting. Jesus, I’m sure, intended them to be comforting, but they are comforting in a way that looks forward. They are less comforting in the now. Although Jesus described all of the people having these experiences as “blessed” and blessed in the here and now, the blessings that he associated with these conditions…

So, for example, the blessings for the poor in spirit: Theirs is the Kingdom of heaven, Jesus said. Well, we may own the Kingdom of heaven if we are poor in spirit, but those who are poor in spirit — at least any time that I’ve felt poor in spirit I’ve not been able to perceive even my presence in the Kingdom of heaven, let alone that the Kingdom of heaven was mine. When I was mourning, it took some time before I could appreciate and settle into the comfort. And that’s true for pretty much all of these.

When we are in those conditions of suffering, of sorrow, of loss, of oppression, we are still awaiting the fulfillment of Jesus’ promises. Even that very famous one — blessed are the merciful for they will receive mercy — well, all too frequently the merciful are paid with oppression, and suffering, even death. Mercy, it seems comes later.

I don’t think Jesus meant for his followers to always be looking ahead for the fulfillment of his promises. I think he meant for us to understand that we are always accompanied by God. We are always held by God. We are always relieved in our trials by God.

But there is a step between the experience and the realization of God’s presence and strength and mercy. That gap, to some degree, is just natural humanity. When we are in the midst of struggle or trial, I’m not sure it’s possible to fully appreciate God’s presence. Our attention is focused on what we feel, and what we feel is bad. I think what Jesus encourages us to do in the Beatitudes is to expand our awareness from that which is most evident in the moment, to expand our awareness to the presence of God that always was, always is, and always will be there.

Then we can appreciate the comfort. Then we can experience the Kingdom of heaven. Then we can know we are held in the arms of mercy.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: The Core of Christianity

As Matthew described it, Jesus began his ministry by teaching the good news of God’s realm, summoning people together into it, and bringing people healing. This is the core of Christianity.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the fourth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 4:12-23), his account of the beginning of Jesus’ ministry.

That ministry began when John was arrested. Jesus returned to the region of the Galilee. He then went and recruited the first of his disciples — Peter and Andrew, James and John — from where they had been fishing in the sea of Galilee. He taught in the synagogues. He proclaimed the good news of the Realm of God, and he cured the sick, any who came to him with some kind of a disease.

I think you can argue that this is the essence, not just of Jesus, but of Christianity. It is founded in the teaching (and the teaching of what?): the teaching of Good News, the teaching of God’s nearness, the teaching of God’s forgiveness, the teaching of God’s love.

And how do we express that love? We express it through healing, through comfort, through gathering people together, through building a better society, a better world.

There are so many ways to understand “Messiah,” “Anointed One.” The most obvious ones are to connect anointing with the creation of the monarch, or the appointment of a general, the selection of a leader of war. But Jesus, though he was the Messiah, simply didn’t go in any of those directions. He accepted baptism rather than an anointing with oil. He brought healing rather than war. He preached good news rather than condemnation. He spoke of repentance in order that people would find their way to full participation in the Realm of God.

“Come with me and I’ll make you fish for people,” he said to those first four followers. Fish for people not so that they might be consumed, but so that they might thrive.

This is the essence of Christianity: Teaching. Teaching good news. Summoning people together. And seeing that as many as we can find their healing.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: Come and See

After two of John the Baptist’s followers heard him speak – twice – of “the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world,” they chose to ask Jesus about himself. His reply, “Come and see,” made all the difference.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the first chapter of John’s Gospel (John 1:29-42). Unlike the other Gospel writers, John did not directly describe Jesus’ baptism. He took up the story on the next day when John the Baptist recognized Jesus amongst the crowd and announced, “Here is the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world.” Only then did John the Baptist describe what happened after the baptism, and he saw the Holy Spirit descending like a dove upon Jesus.

Then another day goes by in John’s Gospel. Again John the Baptist spotted Jesus and said to two of his — John’s — followers, “This is the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world.” Those two people went and followed Jesus, asked him where he was staying: and Jesus said, “Come and see.”

These two were Simon Peter and Peter’s brother Andrew. They would be Jesus’ first tw disciples.

The power of this part of John’s Gospel is in the repetition. John made sure that we heard very clearly, “This is the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world.” John also introduced here a phrase that comes back again and again in the Gospel: “Come and see.”

This is the secret to inviting somebody else into faith. This is the secret to inviting somebody else into wisdom. This is the secret to inviting somebody else into a better life: “Come and see.”

Come and see what I have learned. Come and see what I have found. Come see what I have experienced. Come and see what has blessed me, and maybe, just maybe, it will bless you as well.

“Behold the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world.” “Come and see.”

That’s what I’m thinking I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: Without Pride or Privilege

Transcript 1/6/2026

Jesus joined all humanity in his baptism, and led us from those waters into the ways of service, humility, and love.

Here’s a transcript:

Hau’oli Makahiki Hou! Happy New Year!

And I also wish you a Happy Epiphany. I’m recording this episode of What I’m Thinking on the Epiphany holiday. Epiphany is one of the most ancient of the Christian celebrations. It recognizes the revelation of God in Jesus Christ. And so as we begin 2026, may we all find God’s love revealed to us, not just through What I’m Thinking, but in God’s movements in our hearts and in our souls.

I’m thinking about a way in which God moved in the heart of Jesus. That’s the third chapter of Matthew: Jesus’ baptism.

Unlike the other Gospels, Matthew described a conversation between John and Jesus. “I ought to be baptized by you,” John protested, “yet you have come to me.” “Let it be so for now,” said Jesus, “for this way we will do all that is required.” And so John baptized Jesus; he came up out of the water; he saw the Holy Spirit descending on him like a dove; and he heard those words: “This is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.”

Matthew emphasized something that the other Gospel writers, I think, understood but chose not to emphasize, and that was Jesus refusal to play into notions of power and of privilege. Instead, Jesus chose to fully join us in that necessity of recognizing what we have done poorly or sinfully, and that we need to take steps to wash that away, to set it into the past, and take on new ways.

Jesus did, indeed, take on new ways following his baptism: his baptism launched his ministry. But he didn’t need the baptism to begin it, now did he? And John made that clear.

Jesus did the thing even though he didn’t need to because he didn’t want to take a shortcut that the rest of us cannot. Jesus chose not to exercise any kind of privilege or pride. He chose not to live in hubris. He chose to give us an example of humility and of acceptance and of following the hard and sometimes painful steps that lead us towards a brighter future, that lead us towards doing fully the will of God. Jesus in the Jordan not only joined us; Jesus led us from the waters of baptism out into a life of full service, and faithfulness, and loving kindness.

It was an astonishing thing to do then and now.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: Dream

Joseph had a dream, and it changed what he did, and what he did changed things for Mary and Jesus, and what they all did changed the world. What is your dream?

Here’s a transcript:

The service for the Fourth Sunday of advent the Church of the Holy Cross will feature the Christmas pageant performed by our young people. I’m not thinking about this week’s Scripture with the idea that it will become a sermon, but I am still thinking about the first chapter of Matthew (Matthew 1:18-25).

Luke described the circumstances of Jesus birth; Matthew didn’t. Matthew, however, talked about one of the real difficult moments in that series of events: because when Joseph discovered that Mary was pregnant, he determined to set her aside: quietly, so that she wouldn’t be shamed any more than she already was.

Then he had a dream, and in that dream an angel assured him that she was with child by the Holy Spirit, that this child would be the Messiah, and that he would be the one who would be called Immanuel, God with us.

You’ve got to have a dream.

That’s an old song from a musical, but it’s also true. Dreams change things when we set out to put those dreams into reality.

Joseph might have shrugged it off — I’m not sure how you shrug off the words of an angel whether in waking life or in dream life — but he could have. Mary could have had her child, the Messiah, all alone, cut off from family and friends. But Joseph had a dream, and Joseph’s dream meant that he had a role to play, and that was a supportive partner to those who were taking the lead roles: to Mary the mother who would carry and then comfort the newborn child, to Jesus himself, Jesus who would eventually carry everything including the cross, that Jesus had done so because Joseph had a dream and set out to live that dream.

What is your dream? Is it a dream of love and care and support? Is it a dream that overcomes your prejudices? Is it a dream that leads towards life becoming better, not just for you, not just for your family, but for all those around you and those perhaps on the far side of the world?

Dreams change life. Have a dream and live it.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: Good News

When John asked Jesus if he were the they’d been waiting for, Jesus took the opportunity to define what a Messiah was, and to invite everyone into thee Realm of God.

Here’s a transcript:

For this third Sunday of Advent, I’m thinking about the eleventh chapter of Matthew’s Gospel (Matthew 11:2-11). If this seems a little far along in the book to be describing things that happened before Jesus’ birth, well, it is.

John the Baptist, who had baptized Jesus, had been arrested and was being held in prison by King Herod. He sent messengers to Jesus to ask him if he was the one who had been promised, or should they wait for another? Jesus said to the messengers, go and tell John what you see and hear: the people are being healed, the dead are being raised, the poor hear good news.

The messengers left, and hopefully that message brought John some comfort and reassurance.

Jesus then turned to the crowd and asked them why they had gone out to see John the Baptist in the first place? Did they go to hear a reed that was being blown by the wind? Did they go to see somebody in great clothing?

No. They went to hear a prophet. And yet, said Jesus, the least in the realm of God is greater than John the Baptist.

Well, that’s a lot, isn’t it?

In this message, Jesus defined for us what he meant an Anointed One, a Messiah, to be: a healer, a teacher, someone who restored people to life, someone who restored people to the full care of their communities. But Jesus also defined what it is to be a prophet. A prophet is one who tells the truth despite discomfort, despite oppression.

But Jesus also said it is God’s grace, the grace that brings us into the realm of God, that surpasses everything. God’s grace made John a prophet. God’s grace makes each and every one of us a citizen of God’s realm.

As we approach this season of Christmas, as we prepare to rejoice once more in the gift of Jesus Christ, let us rejoice as well that we have been included in that same realm of God as John the Baptist, that we share it with that great prophet and with so many other saints over time.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below. I’d love to hear from you.

What I’m Thinking: Peaceable Kingdom

Isaiah’s vision of an utterly peaceful world began with wisdom, compassion, righteousness, and peace. May we move toward it this Advent season.

Here’s a transcript:

I’m thinking about the eleventh chapter of the prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 11:1-10). This coming Sunday is the second Sunday of Advent. The theme is peace, so it is entirely appropriate that the Isaiah reading is one of his accounts of the Peaceable Kingdom.

The wolf and the lamb lying down together. The lion eating straw like the ox. “And a little child shall lead them.”

Not surprisingly, Isaiah started with a description of what leadership would look like: that a shoot would emerge from the stump of Jesse, and that this new monarch would rule in a new and different way, with wisdom, with righteousness, with the fear of the Lord – that kind of reverent respect that, well, is frankly very uncommon amongst leaders of nations, now isn’t it?

The foundation of peace for the natural world, Isaiah said, was peace within the human world.

I can’t say that that is obviously true. If human beings ceased to make war upon one another, if human beings ceased to commit crimes against one another, if human beings abandoned violence forever, I’m afraid there would still be hunting in the forests and in the seas – at least until God changes the world. Nevertheless, Isaiah was absolutely right to seek out that first part of the vision rooted in peace amongst human beings. Because even if we can’t directly affect the peace of the rest of Creation, we can make peace amongst ourselves. We can choose wisdom over folly. We can choose compassion over violence. We can choose peace.

All too frequently, we choose folly. We choose violence. we choose war. All too rarely, we choose wisdom. We choose compassion. We choose peace.

In this Advent season, may we take a step, even a fraction of a step, towards Isaiah’s vision. Let us choose wisdom, righteousness, compassion, and peace.

That’s what I’m thinking. I’m curious to hear what you’re thinking. Leave me your thoughts in the comment section below; I’d love to hear from you.