Jesus’ ascension into heaven prompts more questions than answers, as any good Bible story should. These include: Why isn't this in other Gospels? Where exactly did Jesus go, and where is He now? When will Jesus return? How will He return? What about us slow people? Are we to be judged, too, or do we get a pass? Do other people get to ascend to heaven? I could and will go on.
The account of Jesus's ascension appears only in Luke and Acts, likely written by the same author as a two-volume work, first of Jesus, the other about the early church. Matthew, which shares sources with Luke, ends with the Great Commission, suggesting Jesus is going somewhere but not specifying where or how. Mark, the earliest Gospel, concludes with fears at the empty tomb, with no appearances or ascension mentioned; later authors added an ending because the original was vague, which was kind of Mark’s point. John depicts Jesus going fishing and having brunch, implying departure without details on when, where, or how. Luke-Acts presents a dramatic exit for Jesus, offering closure and a transitional point. Do these differences matter? Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Each Gospel reflects its author's perspective and purpose. Jesus appears differently across them, but this doesn't mean the story is inconsistent; rather, these variations provide a richer, multi-faceted understanding of who Jesus was and is.
So, we have this story of Jesus ascending into heaven to be with the Father, and the Creed says He sits at his right hand. Why the right hand? Being seated on the right in most cultures, past and present, is a sign of respect, status, power, and significance. We are not necessarily meant to take this line of the Creed literally, but it is symbolic of who Jesus is, what Jesus has done, the praise and honor He is due, and the authority Jesus still possesses. Specifically, judgement.
Where is heaven? We have been to space, explored the whole atmosphere, and they haven’t found it yet. There are so many theories out there. Christian flat-Earthers, which I can say is stupid, which is a very complex theological term, say God is above the firmament. You have your ancient alien people who say Jesus was taken back up to the mother ship. (I am not joking about this stuff.) The simplest answer, for me, is that heaven is a present reality that we cannot fully perceive. At the end of the day, I am okay with this being a mystery, but some people are not okay with saying “I don’t know.” Where is heaven? I don’t know, and I am okay with that.
When Christ ascends, he promises his return and the restoration of creation, though the timeline is far from clear. Those gathered around Jesus that day, really Christians everywhere, believed Jesus would come back within their lifetime. We see how many Christians struggled with Jesus not returning promptly in Paul’s letters. Honestly, I think that most Christians have thought over the past nearly 2000 years that Jesus would show up in theirs too. Last I checked, no Jesus, and doubt we would like Him very much when He does show up. When will Jesus come back; I do not know, and I am okay with that.
How will Jesus come back? That is a matter of great theological debate and in Seminary at lunch I would debate with fellow classmates on this issue, changing sides every day. I won every time. Some say Jesus will show up as a baby because of Revelation; others say he will descend as he ascended. But you know what I am about to say; I do not know.
One of the many problems that we Christians face today is that we convince ourselves that we have the answer. I have done the math, and Jesus should show up on Oct. 27th, 2026. (Please do not quote me that it was a joke.) We convince ourselves that our beliefs are the only right ones, try to explain and justify everything, and leave no room for mystery. Honestly, this is the antithesis of faith. Faith is belief in what we cannot prove. The moment we try to prove our beliefs, we end up proving that we have no faith. So, I might have some guess about where heaven is, some thoughts or beliefs that it is a reality we cannot see, but at the same time I also have to have the humility to know that I might be wrong.
Ultimately, as the angels told the gathered crowd, our job is not to simply stare at heaven and wait for His return. Or to try to guess when it will be, or how it will happen, or exactly where He went. We are called to prepare. For Jesus is going to come back to judge us… But we are not left alone, Christ leaves with us the Spirit, which gave Jesus the power to do all He did, and which we will talk about more next week.
Judgment, we talked a bit about this last week, with forgiveness as the two go hand in hand, for judgment is the tendency, while forgiveness is the calling. As we talked about last week, judgment does not belong to us; it belongs to God and God alone. The Apostles’ Creed says: “He (Jesus) Shall Come to Judge the Quick and the Dead.” The Father gave Jesus the authority and responsibility to judge. When we say quick, we mean the living, and the dead means well the dead. The implication is that Jesus will come to judge in human history while people are still living on Earth. All the dead are bodily resurrected (we will have fun with that in two weeks) to stand and face judgment before Jesus. Two things I want us to consider: our roles in casting judgment and how Jesus will judge.
As I said last week, our society is based on judgment. I don’t just mean the justice system, which operates more like a system of revenge and offers little to actual room for reform, and I won't beat a dead horse. Our need for judgment transcends into every aspect of our society and lives. If you still watch TV, what are the most popular shows? A courtroom, or an investigation, shows both real and dramatic elements. Like Court TV, Cops, Tiger King, or Chimp Crazy, and then all the NCIS spinoffs, Law and Order, and so on. Then there are all the competitions and TV shows out there, many of which the public has some say in who wins. I love these shows, from lighter competitions like Lego Masters, Is It Cake, and Blown Away, where there is little backstabbing and plotting. Then shows like Survivor, Ink Master, Big Brother, The Traitors, and so on, where alliances and plots form. I did not forget all the singing and talent shows either. How much of what media we consume is about judgment? That’s just a few TV shows out of society based on judging the worth of others. I know for a fact that you are judging whether this is a good blog post or sermon. I am going to have to judge applications, resumes, and interview candidates to find the right people for our staff. The problem with judgment is that a certain level of it is needed to navigate this world, but it cannot be our guiding light, because we become nasty people or “Karens.”
Judgment, final judgment, belongs to Jesus according to the Apostles’ Creed. How will he judge? At the end of the day, I don’t know because I am not Jesus. However, I believe that Jesus will judge on the final day, as he did throughout his entire life, with grace. I choose to believe this, to hold on to this hope, because I know I will need it. Hopefully, I have a long life ahead of me to grow, to make better choices, to live more like Jesus, but even still, I need grace. The Jesus I believe in, read about in scripture, and learn about in study, is the physical embodiment of God’s grace for us all.
So, I am going to keep growing. I am going to keep learning. I am going to keep working. All while relying on God’s grace to keep me going, and to give me courage when I stand before Christ.

Our Lenten Sermon Series focused on brokenness and how everyone is broken, yet God uses our brokenness for good. Jesus transforms our brokenness by giving it purpose and preventing it from defining us entirely. (Feel free to revisit some of these inspiring sermons on our website and YouTube channel.) After 40 days on this theme, it might seem repetitive, and I will do my best to avoid over-echoing. However, it's important to remember our true brokenness and the hope God offers to redeem it.
So, I ask you, have you ever made a mistake? Have you committed a sin against another or against God? There is only one right answer to this question. If you are a human being, then yes, you have made not just ‘a’ mistake or committed ‘a’ sin, but undoubtedly many in your life. I think many of our mistakes and sins are not necessarily intentional. I rarely cut people off in traffic on purpose. Most of the time I did not realize what I was doing until it was done. I have said things to people, not meaning any harm, only to realize later that I had hurt someone I cared about, though I never realized what I said was hurtful. Other times we unfortunately make intentional mistakes and sins. We seek out ways to harm others, to cause them suffering, to push their buttons. We are self-serving and simply do not care about the ripple effects on others. So it is a fair question to ask: Do we treat all mistakes the same? No, that would defy human logic.
There are minor mistakes, like forgetting to bring something home from work for my spouse. I do pay, but that’s a small act. On the other hand, intentionally and premeditatively taking another human life is the gravest error in society. Crimes are ranked from petty to capital, creating a hierarchy of sins and mistakes. Why do we do this? Partly for practicality, because we want a fair world, even though it’s impossible; we desire justice, but often equate punishment with justice. Thus, we develop systems that aim to be as fair and just as possible. Moreover, this ranking also helps us feel better about ourselves and justify our flaws: “I may have made mistakes, but I’ve never killed anyone!” We find comfort when we see others worse than us being punished while we avoid repercussions.
How do we react when others err? Typically, through punishment. But does this approach truly work? No. If punishment were effective, the fear of it would deter wrongdoing from the start; however, people still commit offenses. The system we've established fails in this regard. Often, individuals emerge from the criminal justice process worse off than when they entered. Our concept of justice is actually rooted in revenge systems, which rarely help people learn to make better decisions in the future. Nor do they ever really bring those who suffer ‘closer’.
Paul’s message to the Romans should make you uncomfortable, as it always should. Romans 3:22b-23 states: “For there is no distinction, since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God!” This means everyone has messed up, regardless of the severity or who was involved. Paul doesn’t hold back, and even after 2000 years, I still feel the impact. It’s not just Paul’s words; they reflect Jesus’ actions too. On the cross, Jesus forgave those who wronged him: “Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” He also told the criminal next to him: “Today you will be with me in paradise.” We start to see that sin itself is insignificant compared to God’s grace, which is offered freely and covers everything. Understanding this is a difficult challenge for us humans to wrap our heads around, as we desire human conceptions of ‘justice.’
What does this mean for us? First, stop being so judgmental. (I have to say this in the mirror every morning, and almost every day I fail). We are going to talk a bit about judgment next week, but what we have started to see is that judgment is not up to us. Thanks be to God for that, because I do not want that job.
Second, God is not fair. We also see that grace is far from fair, and God is far from fair, and again I say thanks be to God for that as well. Because if God were fair, we would all be in pits of hell spinning like a Costco rotisserie chicken, which is so good. Have you really lived a life that is always worthy of God’s grace? I am not saying you are bad people, cause that will make giving nosedive. “Pastor says I deserve to be spinning in hell like a chicken, church doesn’t need my money, I'll go buy one myself.” I am not saying that we are terrible people, but I am saying that none of us are perfect, not like Costco Rotisserie Chicken.
At the end of the day, if we are not the final judge, and if we have been recipients of God’s steadfast and never-failing grace, then we are called to offer the same grace to others. Believe me, I know it isn’t easy. It is one of the most difficult things God asks of us, to forgive as we have been forgiven by God through Jesus. We have all fallen short of the glory of God. However, God offers forgiveness to all through our faith in God, this is what we call grace. We are forgiven by God’s gift in Jesus. That is not a gift meant to be hoarded but shared. We will not always succeed but guess what is there to catch us when we fall, God’s grace.
How do we first receive that grace? The key word is 'received.' Just as Pat Mahomes has already thrown the long pass to Xavier Worthy, it’s up to him to catch it and stay on his feet. Similarly, God has already extended grace through Jesus Christ; it’s then our responsibility to accept it and cling to it during difficult times. Methodists and Wesleyans refer to this as "prevenient grace," which means “the grace that comes before our awareness.” God offers us grace before we even realize who God is, and this offer is universal. It’s our choice whether to accept that grace, begin our Christian journey, and pursue growth and faith. When we accept God’s grace and forgiveness and commit to growing in grace, we are forgiven.
This is why the United Methodist Church baptizes infants: because it represents God’s prevenient grace. Don't misunderstand, we also baptize adults. (We do not re-baptize. God’s promise stands firm even when ours falter. Also, it could jeopardize my ordination.) I find it hard to think of a better symbol of God’s grace than a child who cannot do anything for themselves yet is still worthy of it, despite having no full understanding of who God is. The water is not magical; it is a tangible and outward sign of and inward grace, of what God has already done. Though not in the Apostle’s Creed, baptism has been associated with the forgiveness of sins since early church days. It reflects our response to God's prior actions. God has already claimed this child, this person, this adult. Our commitment is to respond to God's work by raising the child in faith until they can claim it themselves. Adults, too, accept God's grace and seek a renewed way of living. The water symbolizes God's claim on our lives, a sacred sign of divine ownership and cleansing.
Often, we have seen others abuse the gift of forgiveness and even of Baptism. Perhaps we ourselves have as well. We are not forgiven for simply going on and sinning some more. Baptism is not meant as a last-ditch effort to save us before we die after a life full of sin. We take this forgiveness for granted when we do not change our behaviors and our ways of living. We make our faith in Jesus’ life, ministry, suffering, and death vain if it does not change us and shape us into those who look after the least, the last, and the lost. It is vain faith if we refuse to offer forgiveness to others since we have been forgiven, especially when it is costly.
Bonhoeffer famously distinguishes between "cheap grace” and “costly grace.” Cheap grace refers to grace without discipleship, the cross, or the living Jesus Christ; it’s called cheap because it requires nothing from us but helps us feel better about ourselves. We might attend an event for a few hours, but that doesn't truly cost us anything substantial. It’s merely checking a box without giving our true selves. Conversely, "Costly Grace" requires following Christ, obeying His example, and practicing self-denial. It’s "costly” because it demands our lives and “grace” because it offers genuine life. For Bonhoeffer, costly grace isn’t about earning salvation through works, it's about a grace that transforms us in response to Christ’s call. If it doesn’t, it’s just cheap grace. For a deeper understanding, read The Cost of Discipleship (1937), it’s worth a read. So, my final question for us this week is, do we practice cheap or costly grace?

What is the church? Is it a physical building with four walls and a steeple? Or is it a hierarchy of authority that leads to Christ? Could it be the Roman Catholic Church, the United Methodist Church, the Lutheran Church, or any other denomination? Or perhaps the church is simply all those who have professed belief in God. When we mention saints, are we referring to the legendary saints known for faith and miracles? Or are we referring to all those who have gone before us? Could it be the NFL team, or something else entirely? This single line, like all others in the creeds, raises more questions than it answers.
This week, we will skip ahead a line in the Apostles' Creed to focus on the Holy Spirit and the Trinity, coinciding with Pentecost. This is also one of the debates and divisions between the Eastern and Western Churches that led to the first great schism. The key question will be “from whom does the Holy Spirit proceed?” Additionally, this is the origin of the common phrase “one iota.” We will explore this great debate of our faith next week on Pentecost, so stay tuned.
Many Christians, especially non-Catholics, find this week's line quite confusing. Its meaning varies depending on whether one is Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant. Last week, we saw how theological tradition shapes how we view, read, and interpret creeds. Although we may all recite the same words, our understanding of their meaning often differs. This highlights the broad diversity of creeds and what they consider protected. These boundaries, set by the creeds, help us find our place within broader faith. Whenever I talk about the creeds, the number one question I get asked is about the word “catholic.” Are we professing faith in the Catholic Church when we say these creeds? Short answer, no. But of course, I have a much longer one for you as well.
Note the lowercase 'c' in 'catholic.' Capital 'C' Catholic refers to the denomination, while lowercase 'c' Catholic signifies the ‘church universal.’ When Christianity became not only legal but the official religion of the Roman Empire in 325, believers held diverse beliefs and numerous canons of sacred texts. The Council of Nicaea aimed to unify Christians across the empire into one institution in the name of unity, but it was also about control (99% about control). This was challenging; there were intense debates, and even Saint Nick was known to have punched someone, right in the face (look it up; I'm serious). When Christians were working on a common creed and set of beliefs, there were no denominations. The Catholic Church didn’t even exist yet; this was a gathering of Christians, not a denomination. When they wrote 'Holy catholic Church,' the line didn’t refer to an institution but to Christians worldwide, aiming to connect followers of Jesus into one body. It was a point of connection, saying “I believe in the church set up by Jesus” and in their shared faith in Him.
Later, the Catholic Church adopted the name to signify its status as the church universal. For centuries, it was. Until 1054, there were no other Christian sects besides the Catholic Church. For 700 years, the 'Catholic Church' was the universal church. The focus has shifted somewhat over time: when we say, “I believe in the Holy catholic Church,” we are not endorsing the church as an institution but affirming belief in the community of all believers and in Jesus as the ultimate head of that Church. No, we are not professing faith in the “Catholic Church,” but what we Protestants do not understand is that we all come from the Catholic Church. Who wrote the creeds? I have my theological differences with the Catholics, which is why my mom stopped being one, but we all have a lot more in common than you might think. We need to get out of this shame cycle we participate in, saying, “My denomination has all the answers.” We Methodists do, but that’s not the point. The church is far bigger than any denomination or sect, and it doesn’t belong to us either. We are all doing the best we can to comprehend the divine majesty of a God we cannot see face to face. Of course, we are going to see God differently.
This week, the focus continues with the “Communion of Saints.” There are various ways to interpret this phrase, unsurprisingly. As a non-Catholic, it's important to distinguish between the uppercase 'Saints' and lowercase 'saints.' Upper-case Saints are venerated Catholics, Orthodox Christians, Lutherans, and NFL fans like my brother-in-law. Saints are individuals who have met numerous requirements, including deeds in this life and miracles after death associated with their remains, something they owned, and the like. The title 'Saint' signifies not just honor in this life but also a close relationship with God in the afterlife. There are patron Saints for different professions, nations, schools, and religious orders, among many other categories. Some Protestants acknowledge Saints, but most typically do not believe in elevating certain individuals above others, though that’s not the main reason for honoring them. Saints are a point of connection to God. That can look like a certain way of living with God and neighbor, someone we can relate to and look to for guidance. Saints are tangible examples and connection points with God.
Do I believe in Saints? That depends on the day. I have three Icons of Saints in my office, all from the same workshop in Greece that has made Icons the same way for generations. There are also individuals like Martin Luther King Jr. and Dietrich Bonhoeffer whom I look up to and turn to for guidance on how to be a follower of God in a broken world. Do I think they have special importance? Yes. Do I pray to Saints to intercede on my behalf to God? No. So yes and no.
Lowercase 'saints' refers broadly to all who have gone before us, including those who have expressed faith in God, particularly in Jesus. Some even include Abraham, which is an interesting debate (the answer is yes). This includes friends, family, and those we may never meet. When reading the creeds, we connect with both the believers who came before us and those who will come after. This is where we find personal significance in this line. We are connected to all who have come before us, who shaped us, who made us who we are today. Whether they are with us in this life or have moved on to the next, we remain connected to them. All the adoptive grandparents I have had in my life, thanks to the church. All the mentors who have shaped my faith. My family, though we came from different traditions, helped make me who I am. We are bound by strings that can never be broken or forgotten. Even those great leaders of the faith, gone from this life long before I came into existence, whom I look up to. All those who are still alive and spread across creation. The greatest gift the church universal and local provides is relationships and the knowledge that we do not walk this journey alone. We have already talked about how God walks that road, but there are people here we can look to for support in our times of need, because that is what the church is for.
The church is not a building, however many walls it has. The church is not an hour-long commitment on Sunday mornings. The church is the relationships we create with each other. When the church is at its best, it fosters new relationships and creates a community that all humans need to function. One of my favorite atheists/agnostics is Neil deGrasse Tyson. I saw a reel on Facebook yesterday asking whether the church is healthy for humanity. What good has Christianity, or any faith, for that matter, done for humanity? Tyson is somewhat critical of the institution, and I agree with many of his points, or at least understand them. One thing that stood out to me in this conversation was his point that the greatest gift faith traditions have given humanity is community, because we humans need it. Unfortunately, many of the church's institutions have driven people away, leaving a great void of need.
The creed also says you cannot be a Christian without going to church; it doesn’t work that way. I am not saying this to guilt people into coming more often, although I wouldn’t mind if it did. To be a Christian is to believe in the Church. At a very basic level, we need community, not just as Christians but as human beings. No one can walk this life alone; it is not possible. I mean the walk of navigating faith and life itself, with its ups and downs. I have tried to do it myself, and it did not work for me at all. Believing in the Church means believing in the importance of community. A community woven across all cultures, all human differences, and even across time itself. It is a statement that says, I need help in my life, I need help in my faith, I need help in my relationship with God, and I will look to my church community for that help. There are countless other ways to find that community, but the Church offers a kind of community not often found elsewhere: to be loved for who you are, no exceptions, because God has loved us in that same way. I know how hard it is to ask for help, to acknowledge that we cannot do it on our own. I am terrible at asking for help because I don’t want to be a burden on others. To be a Christian, and thus to believe in the Church, is also a promise to be there for others when they need it. To be a Christian is to believe in the importance of community. I'll let you ask how well we are doing that today.

Last week, we noted that one modern function of creeds is to outline beliefs of faith. Creeds primarily serve to protect the church and correct understanding from heresy. Most ancient creeds emerged in response to theological debates of their time. Today, creeds still function similarly by defining boundaries for what a group considers distinct from other traditions. The United Church of Canada Creed exemplifies this. The first established creed by the ‘church' in 325, known as the Nicene Creed, was authored to affirm Jesus' divinity. Over time, the Nicene Creed has defended against various Christological heresies, such as Docetism, Arianism, Adoptionism, Apollinarianism, and Nestorianism. These creeds have been revised to guard the faith against errors concerning Jesus, God the Father, the Holy Spirit, the Trinity, eternal life, and core Christian doctrines. The Nicene Creed was notably revised in 381. Since doctrine exists, heresy has always been a challenge. Creeds serve to safeguard faith and distinguish between correct and incorrect beliefs. I taught a whole class about ancient and modern heresy, so I will try to be brief and not info-dump everything I know. In this section of the Apostles’ Creed, we affirm Jesus as the Son of God and Mary as the Mother of God.
In brief, I want to discuss the significance of the ‘virgin’ label for some people and its lack of importance for others. Additionally, we need to confront the well-known issue of how the church has historically defined women who are pillars of faith primarily by their sexuality. We have previously touched on this with a different Mary, but many other women face the same treatment. I could give a laundry list of all the core women of our faith who have faced similar challenges.
There are generally three different views on Mary’s virginity. (By the way, I’m keeping track of how often I mention that word or related terms.) The first, and the one implied in our discussion today, is the Virgin Birth. This doctrine states that Jesus was conceived not through human means but by the Holy Spirit. His mother was human, but his 'father' was a divine miracle of God. Many Christians affirm this belief as outlined in the Apostles' and Nicene Creeds. The doctrine of the Virgin Birth helps affirm the tradition of Jesus' dual nature: both fully human and fully divine, and ensuring that his two natures are preserved.
Christians have never been as unified on how Jesus was born as they are on who Jesus is. Some, however, do not see the virgin birth as essential. There are theological perspectives that continue to believe in Jesus without it. As discussed last week and as Paul suggests, Jesus relinquished His divinity to become human. In this context, the virgin birth might seem unnecessary. Jesus becoming human involved Him setting aside His full divinity to identify with humanity. All miracles were performed through the Spirit and God's presence within Him because He is God incarnate.
Additionally, some see this as problematic. Their main argument is that the theology of the virgin birth suggests sex is an unclean, sinful act, with some significantly influential theologians, most notably Augustine of Hippo, allegedly considering it the original sin. (Augustine had some serious issues with shame for his previous lifestyle). They further claim that this doctrine has caused shame and pressure, especially for women. No one truly believes Joseph was a virgin; all Christians acknowledge he fathered children like James. Why isn't Joseph held to the same standard? (Whether Mary was the mother of those children is another point we'll discuss shortly.) The rules about virginity and purity are not applied equally to men and women, neither in the Bible, in Jesus’ birth, nor today. Some argue that the virgin birth theology is linked to systemic sexism both in the church and society, leading some to reject the idea that faith in Jesus depends on a biological explanation of his origins.
The Immaculate Conception often causes confusion, but it specifically refers to Mary, not Jesus. This doctrine claims that Mary was born free of sin so she could carry Jesus, who is also without sin. Catholic traditions uphold this belief; however, most Protestants do not consider it necessary. Generally, Methodist theologians believe that Mary was not exempt from sin like all humans. While she was greatly favored and, in general, better than the average person, they acknowledge that God works through imperfect people. In short, Mary does not need to be perfect to be Jesus' mother.
The third and final concept is the Perpetual Virginity of Mary. Traditional Catholic theology affirms that Mary had no other children and never ‘lost her virginity.' All of Jesus’ siblings are considered to be Joseph’s children from a previous relationship and do not share a biological connection to Jesus. This belief explains why traditional nativity scenes often depict a much older Joseph compared to Mary. Supporters of this doctrine argue it emphasizes Mary's purity as the mother of Jesus, while opponents, who share similar concerns as mentioned earlier, criticize it. This has fostered a culture of shame and double standards. Most Protestants view this doctrine as unnecessary and not based on scripture.
What matters most, regardless of personal beliefs about these claims, is that Mary is revered as the mother of God, known as the ‘theotokos,’ meaning ‘God-Bearer' or 'Mother of God' in Greek. However, I don’t want us to define Mary solely by her role as Jesus' mother, as that overlooks the full scope of her identity. Mary did more than give birth; she nurtured him, helped him mature, journeyed with him, mourned and celebrated him, and shared the Good News about Jesus long after his ascension into heaven. She is far more than her virginity or her role as a birth giver, and she deserves our respect beyond these aspects. This applies equally to many women in scripture who are often diminished or misunderstood, her sexuality being the sole focus of their portrayal.
One aspect often missing from the creeds is Jesus’ ministry. While all creeds mention Jesus being born, dying, and rising again, they overlook the many events in between. We tend to forget how significant Jesus’ birth is; it signifies his humanity, especially since we recount the story yearly and anticipate the ending. It's crucial to remember that Jesus, the only Son of God, entered the world just like we did. He was a teenager at times, possibly rebellious, and he cared deeply for his family. When I visited Nazareth years ago, I imagined Mary telling Jesus to fetch water. Jesus spent time with the broken and the fearful, offering healing and peace. He experienced anger, grief, betrayal, denial, and suffering. Yet, these many human experiences are largely absent from the creeds, which focus mainly on His birth and resurrection. I’m not minimizing those events, but I want us to recognize that the rest of Jesus’ story is equally important.
As I have said before. No matter what you are going through, you can rest assured that someone knows what you face, for Jesus has walked the same path, encountered people with the same pain, and experienced the harsh realities of our world. I have said it before, and I will say it again and again, for it is the base of my faith: God knows what you are going through, and God does not abandon whom God has created.
While Jesus shared many aspects of the human experience, he was also divine and performed deeds beyond human capability. In Jesus, and in the miracle of his incarnation, all of deity resides in him, as the author of Colossians states (although scholars debate if Paul authored this). What Jesus did with that divine authority is what truly matters, as discussed last week. The miracles, teachings, and signs of that deity within him are often omitted from the creeds. I worry that Christians sometimes do the same with their faith. We tend to skip over death because it makes us uncomfortable; understandably so, since that’s the point. We celebrate Jesus’ birth and resurrection but often overlook his life and teachings that challenge how we live. We prefer comfort and resist anything that threatens it.
Jesus didn't endure all that to have us live unchanged lives. The whole point is that, through Jesus, the divine dwells within us, too. We are capable of great acts, things like feeding the hungry, healing the sick, comforting the afraid, and loving our neighbors, even when they seem difficult to love. It is through Jesus, in whom the fullness of God resides, that we are made complete in God's love. We now have the example of how to use what God has given us. We have been set free from the fear of death, knowing that God is stronger. We are left with the Spirit of God that worked through Jesus to do amazing things and can work through us today. Because Jesus was human, we get a glimpse of what we were created to be, and God gets a glimpse of what it means to be one of us. Mary was there for it all, and got to see her son do amazing things, and also had to watch his suffer, and ascend. Mary continued to share the Good News until she herself ascended when her work was done. Please, do not define people by a single aspect. Whether it is virginity in Mary’s case or modern issues such as the color of their skin, or nation of origin, their gender, identity or sexuality, their age or ability, for we are all far more than a single title that Mary got. Give others the space to be their full selves rather than putting them in a box for just one part of who they are.

Last week, I mentioned that the earliest Christian Creed was “Jesus is Lord.” In Greek, it's transliterated as “Kyrios Khristós” or “Kyrios Iēsoûs,” depending on the source. These mean “Christ is Lord” and “Jesus is Lord,” respectively. This week's passage, Philippians 2:3-11, is likely the second-oldest Christian Creed we have, and it forms the foundation of my personal theology and faith. I might write a lengthy, detailed book about it someday, but I'll keep this brief. While we don't know the exact age of this Creed or its author, we know Paul is quoting it, and the church in Philippi would have recognized it as well, which gives it its importance. The Creed explains why Jesus deserves the title “Lord” and why He merits our praise and trust. Therefore, the key term this week is “Kyrios,” or Lord, and we are going to do a brief word study today. Therefore, before exploring why Jesus is worthy of this title, we should understand what this word meant to early Christians.
Now that I know we have at least one landlord in our church community, I will try to be considerate here, but I must admit, I have never had a ‘nice’ landlord. Landlords are generally not known for their kindness. If you've ever rented an apartment or house, was your landlord-tenant relationship smooth? Even among homeowners with HOA, God rest your soul, do you have a good relationship with your HOA chair? When I lived with my parents in college, I didn’t pay rent, but tensions occasionally arose because it was their house. We all have people who hold some form of power over us, in one way or another. They may not have, or go by the title, but the power and influence remain. There are still those who go by the title of ‘lord’ in our world. Over in another country, many titles have been handed down through generations, but they hold only a small part of the power they once had. In our own nation, as I said, we have people who may not have the term, but certainly possess the quality. Families with wealth and power passed on through generations. The Kardashian family and the Kennedys are the two that come to mind immediately. As much as we think we have moved on from that tradition, we just rebranded it from monarchy to capitalism.
In Paul’s era, “Kyrios” was a multifaceted term, just as it remains today. The word "Lord" held various meanings depending on community and context. Usually, it signified "master" or "owner" in daily life, applied to household heads, landowners, governors, and slave owners as a sign of respect for their elevated status. Here, the term is non-religious; it merely mirrors the typical social hierarchy of the time. Something that we think we have escaped, but we most certainly have not.
By the first century, the term “Kyrios” also acquired political and divine meanings. Following the decline of the Roman Republic and the ascent of emperors, it was used for emperors to denote supreme authority. As the Imperial Cult grew, “Kyrios” also began to symbolize the emperor’s divinity, meaning that "Lord" for the emperor signified not only authority but also divinity. The emperors were gods.
Within the Jewish community, the term “Kyrios” also held divine importance, but in a very different way. The “Septuagint,” the Greek translation of the Hebrew scriptures, was produced around the 3rd or 2nd century BCE. The origins of this translation are quite fascinating. The Septuagint used the Greek word “Kyrios" to refer to YHWH, God's name. This usage was not meant to attribute divinity to any human but to the divine itself, marking a departure from the typical Greek use of the term. This Greek version of the Hebrew Scriptures was the standard for both Jews and Christians for many years before and after the time of Jesus. Some Eastern Orthodox churches still rely on the Septuagint today. Western Christianity, however, does not use it, partly because it is not considered a very accurate translation.
In summary: “Kyrios” represented personal, political, and divine authority simultaneously, depending on the audience. Interestingly for us, getting a bit ahead of myself here, is that Jesus fulfills all three meanings. Jesus is Lord personally, politically, and divinely. But what are the reasons and mechanisms behind this?
Why is Jesus considered worthy of the title “Lord”? Paul, in an early creed, provides a list. Jesus, who is divine, has the power of God but chose to set it aside to become one with us. Not as a ‘lord’ or ‘master’ or ‘craftsman,’ but as Paul describes, “the form of a slave.” Jesus was among the least, last, and lost, and chose that path over personal glory. This humility led him to die on the cross, bearing the sins of the world. Because of this humility and his willingness to sacrifice, God raised him up as worthy of praise and thanksgiving. This is what makes him worthy of being called “Lord,” because of what he has done for us. The true meaning of “Lord” isn’t self-centered; perhaps there’s a slight hint of that. A Lord also has the duty to care for those under their authority. A landlord, for example, has the power to oversee and also to help when needed. Privilege entails responsibility for others.
What do we mean when we say Jesus is Lord? Essentially, it signifies that Jesus should have personal authority over us and our way of life, that He surpasses any earthly power now or ever to come, and that He is divine, providing us with redeeming grace. Take a moment to absorb this. If we confess Jesus as Lord, He is before and above almost everything around us and within our lives. Declaring Jesus as Lord means He is first; everything else follows. Can we honestly claim that Jesus is first? Aside from Sunday mornings from 9:30 to 10:30, how often do we truly put Him first? Even then, how many times have we wished the service wouldn't go past 10:30? That we sang too many verses or that the sermon was too long; we have other plans. I admit I do this myself in the pews. Jesus is Lord, but the teachings on loving our neighbor are fine in principle, though we sometimes believe those people don't deserve it. We proclaim Jesus as Lord on Sunday, but on Monday, money becomes our Lord. For Jesus to be Lord truly means He comes first; no exceptions, period.
If that wasn’t challenging enough, Paul goes further, saying we are to live in the same mind as Jesus. That makes this whole thing even harder to live out. To use the power and privilege we have, which come from God and God alone, not for selfish benefit but for the sake of others. We are called to be those who serve, not those who are served. That way of life flips the world we know upside down. These are the opposite of the values we have been taught by society. But to say Jesus is Lord is to live like Jesus. To feed the hungry. Heal the sick. Comfort the grieving. To seek out the least, last, and lost. To fight injustice in any way that it presents itself. To sacrifice. To forgive when it seems impossible.
Why do this? Two reasons. First, Paul and Jesus told you to. That should already be enough. Jesus says, we do. Kind of simple. Second, because God has already done these things for you, it is only right that we pass them on to others. Especially when we don’t feel they deserve it or have earned it, because we don’t either.
Saying Jesus is Lord, meaning it and believing it, changes you. It shapes you and makes you more like Jesus. The Good News is that we do not face it alone. We go on this journey together and hold one another accountable.
Are you willing to say it, to mean it, to believe it? Then come and grow.

My favorite active Chiefs player might surprise some: Creed Humphrey. I've always had mixed feelings about offensive linemen. It’s a strange position for a Creed fan, because I don’t want to hear his name called as often as we did with Jawaan Taylor. There’s no hate or harsh judgment. It’s not like I’d play that position myself. Usually, hearing a lineman’s name called means he had a penalty or missed a block. But their job is to protect Mahomes, the quarterback, and create space for the running backs to matriculate down the field. I also really love pancake blocks. Creed’s role and the creeds are quite similar: both set the boundaries of our faith, shielding it from false beliefs while allowing room for interpretation and growth.
Today, we have a lot to cover, including the purpose of creeds, the history of the Apostle’s Creed, the Canadian Creed we're studying this week, and topics like "God the Father” and “God the Maker." The earliest creed was likely just “Jesus is Lord." A more detailed version appears in Philippians 3, which Paul quotes, and we'll explore this in a few weeks as it defines my faith in Jesus. Originally, creeds served to educate new believers, teach them what it means to believe in God, protect the faith, and establish its boundaries.
There's a story I heard from Justo González, a favorite theologian and historian of Christianity, that goes like this: A young monk went to the abbot, the head of his monastery, and said, “I am struggling with the creed; I don’t understand or believe it.” The abbot replied, “Repeat the creed until you believe.” The young monk kept returning, struggling to believe, and the abbot kept giving the same advice until, at last, it clicked, and the monk believed. This story illustrates that a primary purpose of the creed is to teach faith. Creeds also serve another important purpose: they protect the faith from heresy. They define what true belief in God entails and what it does not. We will see how creeds defend against heresy regarding topics like the nature of Jesus and the Trinity. Additionally, Justo González explains that creeds help set boundaries, much like foul lines on a baseball field. These lines mark limits, but there is plenty of space within them. We will observe this dynamic starting with the very first line of the Apostles’ Creed. Creeds set clear boundaries while allowing room for differing interpretations.
The origins of the Apostles’ Creed are highly debated. Despite being perhaps the most popular of all creeds, it exists in multiple versions even within our hymnal. There is no single, definitive story behind its origin. Over the centuries, between 20 and 30 people have been credited with its creation. Legend claims the Apostles each wrote a line of the creed, but almost no one believes this is true. Some date the creed to the medieval period, between the 5th and 15th centuries. Others argue it descends from the old Roman creed, possibly dating back to the 2nd century, though written records only appear from 341. The Nicene Creed was written in 325, while the Apostles’ Creed appears in records no earlier than the 8th century. The key point is that the origin of this creed is complex, passing through many hands. If you research this online (though I advise against it), you'll find varying accounts across different sources. Does this confusion matter? The answer is both yes and no.
Yes, we must acknowledge that, despite its name, this creed was not authored by the Apostles. It has also evolved over time, with changes even in recent history. However, regardless of these facts, Christians have relied on this creed for over a thousand years to understand, declare, and affirm their faith. It remains in use today across diverse Christian traditions worldwide. This enduring tradition underscores its significance and authority.
Now let’s talk about the first line: “I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth.” We are going to look at two things here, “God the Father Almighty” and “Maker of Heaven and Earth.” The first should be pretty quick.
You may have noticed I don’t usually refer to God as 'Father.' In sermons, prayers, liturgy, and blog posts, I simply say 'God.' Why? Two main reasons. First, not everyone has a positive relationship with the word 'Father,' for various reasons. Second, I don’t believe God is a man. I want to be clear that calling God 'Father' is both good and faithful; it’s the most common name for God, aside from 'God' or 'YHWH.' However, God also compares divine self to a mother hen who shelters her children—my favorite image of God. Jewish texts often refer to God in non-gendered terms like Elohim, El, and Adonai. Christian texts use names like Theos and Kyrios. God isn’t limited to human gender. Calling God 'Father' describes an aspect of who God is, not what God is. God is the Creator, Guide, Provider, Companion, and Comforter; qualities of a loving father, but not an old man with a beard. I already have a dad for that. If 'Father' fits your relationship with God, use it. If not, that’s okay. No single name fully captures who God is, which is why God has many names.
“Creator of Heaven and Earth” represents the other part of the statement. Heaven can be interpreted in various ways, and I want to avoid getting too caught up in the details. It could mean the place where God dwells or where Jesus ascended, which is the traditional view. However, I believe that God doesn’t live in a distant place but is present with us here and now. I also think that heaven was not created by God as an escape from earth. For me, stay with me, heaven is a current reality that we may not perceive. Our limited vision, as discussed last week, driven by our expectations, prevents us from seeing the God who is present with us today. Remember, God is also the creator of the earth.
The Genesis creation story is not meant as history because chapters 1 and 2 present two conflicting accounts. Instead, it is a parable. Honestly, I don’t care how long it took God to create the world—whether 6 days or 6 billion years doesn’t matter. What’s important is that God created everything. Humans are not the only beings God created; all living things on earth were called into existence by God, and everything God made was good! So why would God abandon what was called good and only take humans to heaven? Why spend all that time creating something just for us to leave it behind? That’s why I struggle with the idea of heaven as another place where God resides and takes us. Salvation isn’t just about humans but about all living creatures. In Noah’s ark story, did God abandon all animals? No! Except for the dinosaurs, they were left behind because T-Rex was too big to fit on the boat. We forget that God created the entire earth and called it good, yet we exploit it for our pleasure. We misinterpret ‘dominion’ as license to do whatever we want like: hunting animals to extinction, cutting down forests for bigger houses, spilling oil in the ocean, and filling landfills. Dominion actually means we are entrusted with the earth’s care, not given permission to do as we please. We were entrusted with the earth, but we’ve failed to care for what God gave us. Life isn’t meant for us to take for ourselves, to wage war, or pursue personal vendettas.
If God, as the Father, gave a wonderful gift to His children and they destroyed it, how do you think He would react? Fortunately, He responds with grace. Why are we entrusted with such a gift? Humanity alone is created in God’s own image. Don’t think of it as printing a picture; though that’s not a bad metaphor, since a picture fades each time it’s reproduced. We are simply shadows of God’s power and love. It’s not about us resembling God or vice versa; that’s the mistake of making God in our image, which is problematic today. To me, the image of God is the capacity to create and the free will to craft whatever we wish. We possess great power but often misuse it.
Why the United Church of Canada’s Creed? Because of two lines I want to highlight, one of which isn't in our hymnal for unknown reasons. The first line states: “We believe in God: who has created and is creating.” This emphasizes that creation isn't a one-time event, whether over six days or six billion years, but an ongoing process happening daily. Emily and I have seen plants she carefully planted begin to bloom again, bringing new life to formerly barren branches. God continuously makes things new, exemplified in the cross. Through Jesus, God renewed life by helping us conquer the fear of death and reminding us of God's omnipotence. That even death cannot overpower God. The second line, absent from our hymnal, calls the Church “to live with respect in Creation.” I appreciate this for two reasons: first, respect. Our duty is to protect God's creations. Second is the living in creation line. Since we live in a world created by God, it’s not ours, but something we must respect. We do not own this world; we are simply blessed to be in it as a gift from God.
*What is the United Church of Canada? According to the United Church of Canada’s website: “The United Church of Canada is the largest Protestant denomination in Canada. We minister to over a million people in about 2,500 congregations. The history of the United Church is closely entwined with the history of Canada itself. The United Church was inaugurated on June 10, 1925, in Toronto, Ontario, when the Methodist Church, Canada, the Congregational Union of Canada, and 70 percent of The Presbyterian Church in Canada entered into a union… The United Church continues to be a "uniting" church, and has been enriched by several additional unions since 1925.”
Know that you are created by God, and that every person, being, plant, rock, star, and more was created by God too. Our unique quality as Image of God is not just a gift but a responsibility to use it wisely and care for what God created. We are only here for a little while, so why don’t we try to leave it better than we found it?

We begin our sermon series on the Apostles’ Creed a bit out of order, with “Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was Crucified, Dead and Buried, the Third Day He Rose Again.” It is Easter, after all. Over the next few weeks, we will go through the Apostles’ Creed line by line, unpacking what it means and how the Creed shapes and defines our faith. We will discuss more about the history behind this Creed, the overall purpose of Creeds, and how we should engage with them next week, when we return to the first line of the Apostles’ Creed. I am going to do my best not to ramble, but I love a good creed, but like I said more on that next week. This week, we will focus on the line “Rose Again.”
But as I write this, it is still Maundy Thursday. It’s funny to me because I have an open bag of Reese’s Bunnies next to me, and I’m about to talk about how we celebrate Easter too quickly and get ahead of ourselves to avoid the discomfort of Jesus’ death. A little ironic, but they’re giving me the sugar boost to write, so we make compromises.
We often celebrate Easter quickly but forget what comes before it. The full line of the creed is “Suffered under Pontius Pilate, was Crucified, Dead, and Buried, the Third Day He Rose Again.” While we eagerly celebrate the resurrection, we tend to ignore the previous 2 ½ days. We avoid the suffering he endured, not only at the hands of Rome but also the betrayal and abandonment by those close to him, including his own people. We shy away from the true anguish and torture of dying on the Roman cross. We overlook Jesus’ mother watching her son die and mourning his loss. I understand that it’s uncomfortable to think about, but Jesus’ death should challenge us; that’s the core of the event. He was executed by a corrupt empire for sharing a different truth, and his own people turned against him for not meeting their expectations and challenging the status quo. Honestly, I believe we avoid contemplating this because it’s uncomfortable, and deep down, we realize we might have been in one of those camps. The simple truth is that there is no resurrection hope without death. But we prefer the Easter candy and all the commercialization that makes us feel warm and fuzzy inside. We make more plans for how to celebrate Easter than how to truly prepare for it.
For me, one of the greatest signs of hope in Jesus is that he understands what it means to suffer—to live on the margins, to be excluded, to be among the least, the last, and the lost. God not only knows that suffering exists but also what it truly means to suffer. That’s a huge gap. As someone who has lived with privilege, I’ve experienced ups and downs, successes and failures, but can I really say that I understand what it means to suffer? I know that suffering is real; I see it everywhere around me but seeing and truly knowing are different things. God doesn’t just see our suffering; God knows it because God has lived it. That solidarity has carried me through the darkest moments of my life, the truth that I am not alone. Hope isn’t just in the empty tomb but also in the Last Supper and the crucifixion.
On Sunday, we shall proclaim that the Lord is risen indeed! It is the death and resurrection of Christ that give our faith meaning, but do we recognize Him when He comes? Do we greet Him, or run and hide? When we know and believe in the risen Lord, we are called to share the Good News with everyone who will listen.
Each of the Gospels tells the Easter story somewhat differently. For example, there are variations in who visits the tomb first. Mary Magdalene always goes, but the others who accompany her differ. Are angels present, and if so, how many? Who, if anyone, sees the Risen Jesus? In Mark, there are no appearances. There is no single account of what happened that morning, and each story provides a slightly different lesson. This, after all, is why we have four Gospels. Each one offers us a different perspective on who Jesus was and is. Today, we focus on John’s account.
So, Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb early in the morning. Scholars have debated extensively why Mary chose to go there that day, partly because the Gospels do not agree on this issue. Some Gospels and scholars say that Mary goes to anoint Jesus’ body because they couldn't do so before the start of the Sabbath. According to John, that was all taken care of before sunset on Friday. (The Jewish day begins at sundown.) Honestly, the reason she was there doesn’t really matter. What matters is that she goes, and in every story, it’s only the women who are willing to go to the tomb while the men are scared and hiding in dark corners. Only the women have the courage to be seen, tending to Jesus or paying respects to Him. The disciples are certainly afraid for their lives. Peter was made before the night was over. They do not want to share the same fate as Jesus, even though Peter himself said he would. The men have any number of good reasons not to go out, but that does not make it the right thing to do. Mary is putting herself at risk. She was at the foot of the cross and now at His grave; it wouldn’t be surprising if she were arrested as well, but she is willing to take the risk for the one who gave everything to her.
Simply put, and I will say this again, we would not be here without Mary. Getting a bit ahead of myself, but Mary Magdalene was the first to share the Good News of Jesus’ resurrection. Not Peter or John, who argued over who was greatest a few days earlier, but Mary. For churches to not allow women to be pastors or leaders in the church is to deny the Gospel, for the first bearers of it were women.
When Mary arrives at the tomb and sees the stone rolled away and the tomb empty, how does she respond? Fear. Which is a very natural reaction. We shouldn’t judge Mary for her fear of the empty tomb because she was the only one bold enough to go. But how often do we see Good News and respond with fear at first? When I received the first call about coming to Heritage, well, when you get a call from the DS between January and March, it’s a scary moment. The DS doesn’t call you in late January just to chat… no, you're moving. Then the DS didn’t tell me what the church was. I was terrified because I had grown used to where I was, and there was the added weight of uncertainty about the future. Mary is partly afraid because she doesn’t know what comes next. Fear is a natural first reaction to something new, but it should not and cannot be our final reaction, as we limit what God can do next in our lives if we run away. I think Mary’s real fear is that someone stole the body, which wouldn’t have been out of the question. His body could have been stolen by the Romans to prevent the tomb from becoming a holy site and Jesus a martyr. It could have been stolen by looters because Jesus was in a fancy tomb, Joseph of Arimathea’s, and grave robbery wasn’t uncommon. What Mary and all who followed Jesus had forgotten was the promise of the third day.
Mary looks around and sees what she thinks is the gardener, begging him to tell her where Jesus’ body was because she cannot see who is actually standing in front of her. Again, don’t judge Mary too harshly. She is the only one who showed up, and in her mind, Jesus is supposed to be dead. Why would she think that this man was Jesus? The truth is right in front of her, but her mind won’t let her see it; her sight is blurred. How often have we done the same thing? I open the fridge to find something, but cannot see it. Emily comes and finds it immediately. It’s right in front of my eyes, yet I cannot see it, because I have limited my perception of what is possible.
We may look at the world around us and think that hope is nowhere to be found. Maybe our vision has also become blurred. Perhaps we struggle to see hope because we have convinced ourselves that it doesn’t exist. Jesus merely speaks her name, and she knows, recognizes, and has hope again. That is the meaning of this day: hope when everything seems lost. When we confess belief in Jesus, who suffered and died because of our sins, and that He rose from the dead, we declare hope in the midst of hardship. I believe that Mary never fully lost hope. The men, yes, they lost hope in just a few minutes. Mary's visit to the tomb is, in itself, a sign that she had hope. Maybe she hoped the tomb would be empty, or that she could find comfort, but certainly Mary believed that this story, His story, and her story weren’t over yet.
Sometimes, when we need hope, we have to seek it out, often right where our pain is. We see the results when hope is missing and fear takes over: you can't go anywhere where fear grows, and hope fades away. I’m not saying it's easy, because it isn’t, but if we truly want to find hope in Jesus, the cross, humanity, or ourselves, we must be willing to search for it. We need to open our eyes to see what God can do and not place human limits on God. If we do that, we might be surprised by what we find.
Join us for worship Easter Morning at 9 am or 11 am!
Also this is my first one of these so, thank you for your grace.