Sermons

Good morning All Saints, blessed Pentecost!

Continuing with theme of unity from last week, I wanted to expand on this conversation for Pentecost. As dutiful Episcopalians, we have read about Pentecost. No surprise here, this is where the Holy Spirit moved amongst the people, and different languages were spoken, yet the same message was heard. During this time, it shocked everyone, clearly, everyone had been drinking, right? God creates the opportunity for us to seek out our differences, yet also our similarities, and to not feel lost in this journey. 

At that time of the first Pentecost, several languages were spoken in the region known as Jerusalem. Now, we have many more languages that have evolved, from the languages that were spoken after the Tower of Babel, to the first Pentecost, to the present day in 2025, there has been an exponential growth in languages and cultures that have spread across the globe.  

Today, according to Google, we have approximately 7,159 languages. Now, of course, some of these are dialects of more prevalent languages. And so forth. There are variations and threads of Native languages among the First Nations, and some have sadly become extinct. This language concept is fascinating if you think about it. 

One of my classmates in Seminary holds a PhD in ancient Greek. He shared that he could read the New Testament. Silly me, when I first met him, I thought, ‘Oh, I would love to learn Greek maybe you can teach me.’ Then he had to elaborate that the Greek we have today is not the same as the Greek we had 2,000 years ago. The evolution of languages, the evolution of us, it doesn’t just start with the English language, right? Sadly, the evolution of languages can also have us lose languages and cultural traditions, too. 

How many other varieties of things do we have in the world that also might be lost unless we preserve them? We know there are over 7,000 languages, but how many different types of rice there was on the global scale. I was not shocked when I discovered there are 40,000 types of rice and 94 types of apples. I was curious on how many ethnicities are there in the world? (Yes, I love going down rabbit holes.)

The number of ethnic groups in the world can range from 13,000 to 24,000. The CIA lists ethnicities broken down by country, and it’s a doozy.  And sometimes we get ethnicity confused with race, ethnicity is more cultural & geographic, race is physical characteristics.   I took a class a couple of weeks ago, and it asked the question about the genetics of human beings.  

We might assume that those of us with a European background and descent share similar genes, as opposed to our sisters and brothers in Asia or First Nation populations in Australia.  We are all very similar, genetically; in fact, only one in 1,000 gene sequences differs compared to fruit flies, where their variations are one in 50 genetically.  Yes, fruit flies are more genetically diverse than humans.  

Did you know that we have seed preservation efforts to find & conserve seeds in the event of extinction of some species? Think about that, we have scientists gathering seeds to ensure that our food supply doesn’t lose its va-rit ial diversity. 

Now that I’ve got your attention with all this science talk on a Sunday morning, isn’t it beautiful how God created all these variations of food in the world? Isn’t it beautiful that humans are genetically more alike than fruit flies? Wouldn’t it be amazing to try all 92 types of apples? Speaking of food. Do I have any Indian food lovers in the house? I love Indian food. The flavors, the colors, the spices, it’s so exciting! I tell you, once I had Indian food, even Thai food seemed too plain to me; it was too bland! And don’t even get me started on how to compare pizza with Indian food. 

And isn’t that the beauty of our world? What if everyone liked pizza or everyone liked Indian food? Some of us would prefer the same schedule, the same food, and the same vacations. Some of us would prefer different flavors, new experiences. Personally, I am still looking forward to skydiving for my 50th birthday in a few years! 

What is beautiful is that God made us all uniquely, perfectly imperfect. 

What if, in God‘s omnipotent wisdom, we have thousands of varieties of rice, dozens of varieties of apples, thousands of ethnicities, and languages? But we could agree on one thing: that God is love. Therefore, we are to love everything God created, which includes loving one another.  

God asks us to have the same message, through the diversity of different languages. Through the various flavors, yet we all share common ancestors. Poetic biblical imagery, as seen in the Adam and Eve story, and scientifically, Lucy, discovered in the 1970s, walked this planet 32,000 years ago. We as humans, have most certainly evolved and have lost some of our traits, like the use of our appendix. I guess we can stand to lose that organ. 

Yet, we share the same common ancestor. We also share ways to sustain life (along with our two- and four-legged friends). We all need water, food for nourishment, and sleep to thrive. We are interconnected and interdependent on one another. When we feel lost, all we need is love, right…according to the Beatles and Jesus. 

All we need to eachother, according to Jesus’ New Commandment of loving God and loving one another. We know this not only from stories in the Bible, but also from scientific studies that prove that connection is the cure. The longest study on happiness conducted at Harvard showed that it isn’t the money or success you have in life, but rather the people you walk life with. They studied well-to-do men at Harvard, and men who grew up in rougher parts of society. Some rose to the top of the social and career ladder, while others fell downward. 

Happiness doesn’t derive from where you were born, nor necessarily from the family you were born into; it is the deep relationships and well-being that you establish with the people in your inner circle. The question is, how does a person nurture those deep relationships?

One can argue that maybe all we need is spiritual nourishment to sustain these deep relationships. God helps us to create this nourishment of all the many blessings that God has provided for us, which not only gives us spiritual nourishment but also the food we eat. We don’t need to form bonds with our sisters and brothers only here at church; we also find deep connections outside of these walls. Sometimes our flock might be lost, because well, let’s be honest, life can be hard! Having a deep connection with each other helps us not feel lost. 

Sometimes we don’t all speak the same language (of liking the same foods, the same TV shows, or even the places we worship), but that doesn’t mean we can’t hold space with one another to shape and form those deep bonds. What we might lose, we get to help bring it back to life through love. 

We are called upon to understand one another, have faith, love, compassion, and shared fortitude towards justice, to live out God’s directive that God will be a savior of all nations. If we get tripped up on these concepts, Jesus showed us the way with his actions & his parables. The Samaritan woman at the well, the Prodical Son, the good Samaritan on the road. 

He commanded his Apostles to take the message to the world. We are to find the lost sheep, the sheep outside the fold. We aim to help the most marginalized, those who are often left outside the margins. Jesus implores us to invite everyone to the banquet table, not just those that speak the same language as us. And let us not ever forget that we are all, all of us, all means all, are created in the image of God. 

Let’s bring in the BCP to help guide as to close in prayer on page 40

7. For the Diversity of Races and Cultures

O God, who created all peoples in your image, we thank you for the wonderful diversity of races and cultures in this world. Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of fellowship, and show us your presence in those who differ most from us, until our knowledge of your love is made perfect in our love for all your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Christina Cernansky

The Rev. Joseph Farnes

All Saints, Boise

Easter 7C

This year at our Easter Vigil we took to heart what Jesus prayed for in the Gospel reading we heard today. “That they may all be one.” It may have felt like a regular ol’ Easter Vigil for us, but it was a radical move toward living out Jesus’ prayer for unity among those who call themselves Christians.

            We brought together and shared table fellowship as best as we could in the complicated world of church polity and rules. It was risky, and it took work. It took work to navigate and negotiate what we were going to pray together, and it took openness and vulnerability to share what were the non-negotiables among the negotiables. This is the work that we must keep doing in the long, long shadow of the Protestant Reformation. Some things might feel silly, and yet they also can bear great significance.

            One of those things in the last 150 years was grape juice versus wine at the altar. For many of our Protestant siblings, the choice is clear: by using grape juice, those who cannot partake of alcohol are included. That makes sense. We Episcopalians use wine, generally fortified port wine. For us, we reserve the extra wine as an abiding sign of the presence of Christ and for emergencies, and wine keeps much better than grape juice. In our theology, partaking communion in just bread or just wine is full and sufficient. One kind is both kinds. Also makes sense.

But the grape juice and wine conversation brings up what welcome and hospitality at Christ’s altar looks like, and it brought up how each of our traditions thinks, and how we can navigate it. One school of thought would be lowest-common denominator – just use grape juice since everyone could, in theory, partake of it. But for us, the wine also has a sensory experience – the taste and sensation of wine are distinct, different than grape juice. And so we decided we would have both.

And then the bread – how do we do that? Some Episcopal congregations like us generally use unleavened wafers as a nod to St Paul’s reference of “the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth” and as it has been a tradition in the Western church… and the ease of storage and lack of crumbs. But it’s also perfectly acceptable to use leavened bread. And we decided that a gluten-free bread would work for everyone.

The other churches, especially our Presbyterian and Disciples friends, were also very gracious in letting our Episcopal liturgy take the center stage. I wove together bits and pieces of everyone’s worship styles, but the framework was ours. The Disciples of Christ don’t use creeds – their view is “no creed but Christ” – but they read our Baptismal Covenant and said they could go along with it. The Presbyterians keep the Eucharist very simple and straightforward, no long Eucharistic prayer, but they were willing to go through our ritual.

The holy work that we did at the Easter Vigil was hard, thoughtful, prayerful work. It was not a “lowest common denominator” liturgy but a worship where we all wanted to be together, to hear the Good News, and to celebrate communion together. I think we did a good job and brought joy to Jesus’ heart – he prayed that we may all be one, and we did it at the Easter Vigil 43 days ago.

When it comes to this unity, I turn to what is called the “Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral.” If you grab the prayer book with the cross on it in front of you, turn to page 876.

The Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral is not a plan for church union but rather how we can cooperate, think, pray, and work together.

Turn to the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral —

          — After the Chicago-Lambeth Quadrilateral           How do we inhabit the spirituality that moved previous generations to desire such union among churches? How do we learn what to hold tightly of our tradition as a gift, and what do we learn to hold more loosely so that we may find more unity with our fellow Christians? As the world spirals, it seems that we Christians may be a stronger light to the world if we bring our lights together and shine as one. Amen.

The Rev. Joseph Farnes

All Saints, Boise

Easter 6C

          From the reading from Acts: “During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them.”

          During this Easter season, we read from the book of Acts and the Gospels about how the Gospel spreads like wildfire. On Easter Day, it’s Mary Magdalene alone taking back the message, “I have seen the risen Lord!” The next week the circle keeps expanding: the rest of the apostles, groups of disciples in Jerusalem, and more. Then we see how a persecutor of the church, Saul, has a vision and changes his ways and becomes Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles. That’s how powerful the Gospel message is! And it keeps going outward.

          For many centuries after, there was a triumphalism in this message. “See? We’re right! We’re popular! We’re the ones with the truth!” Then with the Roman Empire making Christianity the official religion, where the Empire was, so too was Christianity. The mix of military and Christianity would persist throughout the ages – through the Crusades, through the explorers who took the Gospel along with swords and guns as they colonized and divvied up wide swaths of the world, stealing the land, resources, and rights away from the inhabitants who were first there.

          We now recognize how much that mix of power and the Gospel undermined the proclamation of the Gospel. The good and holy name of Jesus was defamed when colonizing forces denied the humanity and dignity of others – since the Gospel proclaims that God loved the world so much that Jesus Christ took on our human nature that we might be joined with God forever, then anything that denies that human dignity is a denial of the love of Jesus for all people.

          And so we changed our way of thinking. We no longer sing “Onward Christian soldiers” like we’re parading for war to convert others. We call people to the banquet of the Eucharist, we call people to the work of the Kingdom of God, we call people to the way of the love of Jesus Christ. It is an invitation, not a military campaign nor an advertising campaign.

          We forget, though, how much people really do want to hear the Gospel, the Gospel as it really is. There are people longing to hear this Good News. They call out like the Macedonian in Paul’s dream that we read in Acts: “Come to us, and help us.” People want the Gospel. They know, deep down, it means something holy, something transformative and loving.

          People want to hear the Good News of God’s love. The world around us feels so unloving so often. People argue with strangers on the internet, and people are strangers to their neighbors and communities. People don’t know what kind of greeting they’ll get if they go to a neighbor’s door – will it be a frosty reception through a security camera, or worse? People chatter on neighborhood apps about what they see peering out their front windows – is it a threat, or just a child or teen being a nuisance by existing? So how do we proclaim God’s love when humans seem so focused on closing off from one another?

          People want to hear the Good News of Jesus. People have long heard the “turn or burn” message that some people insisted the Gospel was – either turn and accept Jesus the way we accept Jesus, or you’re going to go to hell forever at the hands of a loving God. A monstrous message if I’ve ever heard one. “Love me or I’ll send you to hell” is hardly an invitation to love – and anyone who has read the Old Testament knows how much God keeps trying again and again to heal those who have rejected his love, and anyone who has read the New Testament knows how Jesus seeks out the wayward and the lost to lead them to the way we’re meant to be: to love God, and to love our neighbor.

People deserve to hear that the Gospel means new life now, and new life forever. They deserve to hear that the Gospel means loving God now and loving our neighbor as ourselves. The Gospel means caring for those in need and having a tender heart brimming and burning with God’s love – to let our hearts become like God’s heart. And God is loving, God is just, God is merciful.

If you read the Bible and listen to it, you’ll hear that message. If you read the early church fathers and mothers, you’ll hear that message. Christian theologians and mystics have proclaimed that very Gospel. This isn’t some new-fangled idea of the Gospel. It’s the root.

          Since this is what the Gospel is, then why don’t we share it?  We have all sorts of barriers we set up in ourselves for sharing it. What is it that holds you back from sharing Jesus and the Gospel with others? What is it that holds you back from talking about matters of the spirit with others?

          People hunger for deeper spiritual life. People hunger for community to talk about holy things, to grow in love and wisdom, to learn more about themselves and to be transformed by God. What is it that holds us back from sharing the Good News of all the good we find in Jesus?

          The people around us in Boise and the Treasure Valley want to hear this Good News. They want to hear the Gospel. We think that people know about the Episcopal Church and just aren’t interested – I got a note from a neighbor here on the Bench who was in awe of the Presiding Bishop’s stance on immigration, grateful for a moral voice when human lives are treated so callously. I’ve heard from folks grateful for Bishop Budde from Washington DC asking for mercy for immigrants and LGBT folks – Mercy is a core virtue of God, so mercy is a core virtue for us Christians! People want to hear Christians speaking the Gospel. People want to see Christians living the Gospel. People want to know that there are Christians who really do believe what Jesus taught and did, and who try their hardest to live it out and who admit when they stumble and who get back up and try again.           The world wants to hear the Gospel – and the world wants Christians on fire with God’s love. Will we proclaim the Gospel, and will we let the Gospel ignite our hearts with God’s love?

Fifth Sunday of Easter

Christina Cernansky

I speak to you in the name of Source, Word, God, and mother of us all. 

It was a cold, wintry night, and the mother of a teenage son was worried because he hadn’t checked in a while. She called his cell phone and the dorm room TA. Hours turned into days, and then the phone rang. It was the county jail letting her know that her son had gone on a spree, leaving a path of destruction. The police officer read out a long list of misdemeanors and felonies to her.  

Months passed, and this mother tried to get answers, tried talking to her son, but he had no rights because he was considered a violent felon who was awaiting a court date. He had not calmed down from whatever might be happening, and the days passed. She was embarrassed to tell anyone at her place of work, her church….her son was in jail for doing things that she had no idea he was capable of doing. 

And then, on a spring day, the phone rang.  Her son had finally seen a psychiatrist and was diagnosed with schizophrenia. She had no idea what that was or what was happening. He was placed on medication, became lucid, and was deemed safe to come out of solitary confinement. This mother was able to speak with her son for the first time in months.  He had no idea what had happened.  He remembered leaving school, and that was the last memory. 

Why am I talking to you today about this family?  Because these families are our neighbors. In today’s Gospel, we hear the infamous “New Commandments speech. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, we know what this is all about, right? Love God, love our neighbor.  We get it already….or do we?  For the sake of this sermon, I aggregated and mixed up some of the storylines of the families I have worked with, but I know many more that I could share.  

May is mental health awareness month, and I wanted to share stories that have been near and dear to my heart. The story is one of hundreds of stories that impact our community.  How can we, as All Saints, love our neighbors?  

A couple of weeks ago, I had the honor of hearing Bishop Rowe speak to a group of Lutheran and Episcopal Chaplains. He said that we don’t need to make our tent bigger; we need to ensure the tent’s center is marginalized, as Jesus taught us. The marginalized were at the center of Jesus’ ministry. Think about that, the most marginalized of society, those on the edge of society, those on the fringe.  Jesus taught us to center ourselves, our love, on those on the outskirts of society.  How does that translate to the mental health needs of the community? 

Mental health is near and dear to my heart. August will be my tenth anniversary of living in Idaho.  When I arrived, I was struggling with my own mental health. My best friend had died by suicide a year prior, and I was searching for my meaning in life. It was then, within my first two months living in Idaho, that I was introduced to an organization called NAMI as well as the Episcopal Church. Follow me here on a journey.   NAMI stands for National Alliance for Mental Illness. They provide support, education, and advocate for the mental health needs of those with a diagnosis and their loved ones who support them.  

Along with my volunteering with NAMI, I started attending St. Thomas’ in Sun Valley, their priest at the time, like Fr. Joseph, had clinical training in mental health. Combined with the Holy Spirit, I started rebuilding my relationship with God, Learning about mental wellness, and my calling to ministry.  God willing, I live in the sunlight of the spirit, not in the darkness of stigma, and   I am now over 9 years sober. 

My friend’s story and the families of NAMI’s stories are not unique. One in five adults and one in four children will be faced with a mental health diagnosis. Complete transparency: I sit on the board of NAMI Idaho. We have a saying: whether you like it or not, or want to admit it or not, you will be faced with a mental health challenge in your lifetime.

One common lament that I hear from families is that they feel so alone & isolated; there is a stigma associated with these incidents, with these diagnosis.  A casserole is delivered when your loved one is in the hospital or getting treatment for a medical ailment.  They don’t receive the same treatment if their loved one is in a mental health hold or in jail. I’m not downplaying our neighbors who go through the trials and tribulations of cancer diagnosis, treatments, complicated surgeries, or broken bones.  We are asked to show up for our neighbors and we are really good at reaching out during those times, but again…to reiterate Bishop Rowe’s point, how are we focusing on the most marginalized? 

How can we love those neighbors who might need support? What does loving your neighbor mean when someone is dripping with melancholy, as they described Abraham Lincoln, or a so-called bipolar episode of Winston Churchill?  We know some of the Saints also struggled with mental health and that didn’t block their faith.  

Again, how can we show our love and compassion to someone in a mental health crisis, such as what we saw with Britney Spears? 

How do we show up when we want to make small talk about public incidents, or when we forget to pray for those struggling during a mental health crisis? How can we support those who are on the fringe, on the edges of society? 

All Saints has been deep in this work for over 20 years with the Friendship Clinic. It has also opened its doors to NAMI Idaho and now rents space and hosts support groups. There are brochures in the common area that encourage you to read up on the free services they provide to the community. And you have opened your doors to 12-step recovery groups. That’s huge, amazing. Think of the ripple effect of those ministries in the Treasure Valley! 

I am going to kindly ask us to explore a little deeper.  We are reminded that we are made in the image of God. We are asked to love our neighbors because we are all God’s children. Jesus set us free because he laid down his life for us to follow and lead in his way of love.  He liberated us to set our focus on our ministry to those most marginalized. We need not fear, as this is what we are asked to do as Christians: step into that tent, raise it up, and shine our light so bright that others living in the shadows of despair will be able to “see”  the way of love.  How can we show radical hospitality, allow space for a wave of love over the most vulnerable, not just for Mental Health Awareness month, but every day, as Jesus commanded us to do at that last supper? 

The Rev. Joseph Farnes

All Saints, Boise

Easter 4C

          Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.” 

          In a day and age when we hear many, many voices, it might feel harder to discern that voice. Even within the church, the voice of Jesus has been hard to hear at times – but I give thanks that the Episcopal tradition has put the Bible, and especially the Gospels, at the heart of our liturgy so that at least we would hear that.

          In the history of Christianity, so often the voice of Jesus has gone unheard. In some centuries, blood was spilled and fires lit up the sky to try to purge the wrong kind of believers. In some centuries, blood was spilled and arms and legs were put in shackles to try to prove that the church and its European lords were the only force of civilization. In some centuries, no blood was spilled directly, but spiritual blood was spilled as the church became a bloodless social club for the “right” kind of people, and they belonged to a club that promised a beautiful salvation with a minimum of effort.

          Throughout the centuries, the voice of Jesus has called us – and those who responded we have called “saints”. They heard, they listened, they followed. And if we weren’t listening to the voice of Jesus, at least we might hear the voice of Jesus filtered through the voices of the saints and the voice of Jesus demonstrated in their lives.

          And, if we are without a saint whose life and witness make it abundantly clear they are following Jesus, we turn to our leaders, lay and clergy, to help us to listen for the voice of Jesus. Through their teaching, sermons, leadership, and compassion, we hope to hear the voice of Jesus speaking through them, even if it is soft and subtle.

          But still we are faced with so many voices around us. In every age, and especially in this one, it is easy to listen to the voice we want to hear, the voice that confirms what we want to think, the voice we want to be the voice of Jesus.

          We want the voice that aligns with our political views to be the voice of Jesus.

          We want the voice that aligns with our liturgical preferences to be the voice of Jesus.

          We want the voice that aligns with our socio-economic status to be the voice of Jesus.

          This reality has made it even harder to be a preacher, pastor, and priest for me and other clergy colleagues. As the rhetoric shifts, some words become buzzwords and landmines. Love, mercy, and empathy suddenly have a connotation beyond their Biblical meaning, and the pressure is on. To be a pastor is an impossible task – how are we to be the “all things to all people” that some expect, with contradictory expectations? And to be a preacher – how do we preach the Gospel when what people assume the Gospel means may not align with what is preached?

          Is the Gospel a self-help message about living a good life? Is the Gospel a comfortable message about an eternal life filled with family and fluffy clouds? Is the Gospel about building a “family values” society and hearkening to “good old days”? Or is the Gospel far more than that? And what if the Gospel as the Bible and tradition tell us is more demanding than what we want to give?

          In years past, I’ve always been mindful of trying to focus on the logic of the Gospel in how I preach. Instead of telling people which side of an issue they should be on like politically-focused pastors, I want to look at issues and concerns Biblically, to think through how our Scriptures, our tradition, and our thinking brains can sort through complexities. Any issue is far more complicated than our politics will ever make it out to be, and a Christian is not called to commit themselves to a party; we are called to follow Christ, to hear his voice. We have to discern, we have to ruminate, we have to contemplate our way into hearing his voice better. It’s deeply spiritual work to write a sermon, and it’s deeply spiritual work to listen to a sermon and to discern what it might mean beyond, “Oooh, I like that!” and “Hm.”

          Some pastors love the opportunity to preach in a way that tells people what to vote, what to do. Some shepherds walk into the pulpit with confidence that there is no difference between their voice and the voice of Jesus. Some shepherds have no qualms about guilting and shaming and raging in their sermons and writings.

          And from the other direction, some folks would enjoy sermons that focused on our rightness versus others’ wrongness. Some would want an uplifting sermon that tells us that we’re on the correct side by speaking from the pulpit what we already think. Some would want to just be told what to do and what to think.

          But the goal of a sermon is not to take the difficulties of the Bible and the challenges of being a Christian and make them easy; the goal of a sermon is to open up the Bible, to look around the world and to open our hearts to hear the voice of Jesus. That is hard. And it’s even harder when everything that is said also gets filtered through layers of assumptions and experiences. We pick who we trust, if they fit into our worldview.

Let’s see those layers at work. Already in the last few days with the election of a new pope, commentators have been poring over every single thing he’s written to try to predict what kind of pope he will be. Is he a leftist, woke, Marxist pope (yes, there are some commentators already calling him that), is he a centrist, is he secretly a conservative because he’s an American Catholic who served as a missionary?

          You tell me what kind of pope you think this is:

“The Church has a responsibility towards creation and she must assert this responsibility in the public sphere. In so doing, she must defend not only earth, water and air as gifts of creation that belong to everyone. She must above all protect mankind from self-destruction. There is need for what might be called a human ecology, correctly understood. The deterioration of nature is in fact closely connected to the culture that shapes human coexistence: when “human ecology” is respected within society, environmental ecology also benefits. Just as human virtues are interrelated, such that the weakening of one places others at risk, so the ecological system is based on respect for a plan that affects both the health of society and its good relationship with nature.” (Caritas in Veritate)

So themes of environmentalism, human relationships, a working “human ecology” where the parts of the world work together for mutual flourishing. I can tell you that the rest of the document I’m quoting from also supports labor unions and criticizes modern corporations for prioritizing only shareholder value and not the needs of communities and workers. So what kind of pope would write that? 

A trick question! It wasn’t the new pope, Leo XIV, that wrote it. And you might think because the environmentalism that it was Pope Francis. No, it was the “conservative” Benedict XVI that wrote it. Surprise! But our world wants to split up things into nice, neat ideological brackets. And those ideological brackets mark who we trust and who we do not trust, and that trust is an easy thing to lose.

          When we Christians try to follow the voice of Jesus, we should go deeper in our discernment. Jesus did not come to bring us pithy slogans and easy answers; Jesus’ favorite method of teaching was the parable, a short story that calls us to pray and contemplate many layers. Jesus gave us the Beatitudes, the Sermon on the Mount, the Summary of the Law, and then he gave us the fullness of his life, death, and resurrection. Discerning the voice of Jesus takes us back to the Gospel stories, takes us to the work of community, and it takes us to our own lives, the world around us to ask where Jesus calls us.

          In the week ahead, notice what Jesus is saying to you. Do you hear his voice? What does it sound like, what does it feel like to hear the voice of your good shepherd? Listen to the voice of Jesus, wherever he speaks. But always be listening for Jesus’ voice. Amen.