"Peace Be With You" Sermon by The Rev. Brad Landry April 14, 2024 This is not a ghost story. This is incredibly, unbelievably, joyously, a flesh and blood human being, fully alive, that God has revealed through the glory of God. And when we perceive Jesus for who He really is, we begin to experience that very same transformation for ourselves. Peace be with you, child of God. Jesus says these words to the disciples, Peace be with you. He's not giving them extra peace. He's urging them to see the peace that they have been given. And it's the peace he has given to us as well. Let us bid the one another recognize it!

Sharing Scar Stories The Rev. Ranie Neislar April 7, 2024 We do silly things when we first start to get to know people. I’m sure a few of you have participated in get-to-know-you activities often called “Ice-breakers”. Sometimes there will be a question thrown out to the group, like “if you could have dinner with any one person, dead or alive, who would it be and why?” or “would you rather have the ability to be invisible or be able to fly and why?” And, sometimes this one: “tell a story behind a scar you have.” We often call these “scar stories.” Sometimes the stories happen naturally. One person in the group says, “oh yeah, that reminds me of this time that I fell out of a tree trying to sneak out of the house and meet up with my friends and I broke my arm,” and of course, they show you this huge scar. And then I would be all this is mine: I have epilepsy and was out running, up a hill and all the sudden, boom, I had a seizure and came down hard on my chin, but I’m a beast and yes I went running two days later!” We want to share our scars, there is something about sharing our triumphs during hard moments; the very fact that we lived to tell the tale after some physically hard moments of our lives is something so many of us feel defines our ability to persevere as human beings; we feel good about these outward signs of resilience and sharing these stories because they tell people more about what we are made of—they tell people about our character; we are individuals that endure, physically. The scars that Jesus shares with the disciples proclaim a different endurance, one that changes each of our stories about resilience. Jesus has died and risen—and has the scars to prove it! Not a single one of us will, most likely, have that experience because we are not God, and instead, we will wait eagerly for the second coming. After our physical bodies are dead we will wait with the rest of creation to be raised to what God intends for us in the fully realized Kingdom of God. And then, we will be the same but different, like we see in the raised person of Jesus—the same but different. But for now, we have this: through our union with Christ, we can begin to practice this resurrection in ourselves, with our neighbors, and in the rest of creation. We can have tastes of new life, the resurrection life offered to us through Christ now! Jesus didn’t “pay it all”, because our God is not transactional, Jesus gave it all, and through that gift we can experience some of the healing, the freedom, the peace, and the joy through our communion with Christ, Jesus. You might be wondering where you can get this once-in-a-lifetime package deal, this experience that changes the trajectory of our lives. Well, you’re here. Since I’ve been here, I can’t count the stories of reconciliation I’ve already heard—people telling me about their experiences of healing, joy, peace, and newfound freedom they have found here, at All Saints. All this is here, now-- here in bible studies, here in the nave, here in Atrium, in the formation of our children and youth, through our pastoral care, through our dedication to learning and loving. I am finding out about this reconciliation because people are sharing their stories. Jesus in being divine through and through was compelled by this reconciliatory reality. One way I like to talk about God, (and I invite you to consider ways in which you might talk about God in this way,) is as a reality. God is not a created thing… God is not another being, like us except bigger and better. God is wholly different, not a being, not a thing, so the closest way to talk about God, that I’ve heard from theologians is God as a reality. God’s reality blankets the world, always present but not necessarily always recognizable. When God limits God’s self in a person, in the person of Jesus, that reality is amplified as it is focused in the being of Jesus, God’s reality is channeled through this one person. So, risen Jesus, like the Jesus we hear about today with the disciples, with Thomas, bearing witness to the reality of God, in this reality, in our God we see a new life, the same but different, and Jesus is inviting the disciples, inviting us to take part in this new life. Now, like I said, Jesus is different. Jesus is fully human and fully divine, being fully divine Jesus cannot NOT share the story of God, the reality of God… the reality that being in a reconciled relationship with God and with others brings new life, it refines us, and brings challenges, but new life—being in that relationship brings healing, peace, joy, contentment! Jesus speaks all this to the disciples: “peace be with you… forgive… put your finger here and see my hands… you may have life.” This is what we hear today. We hear that if we engage with the reality of the divine, as it is proclaimed in the death and resurrection of Jesus and therefore practice grace and love in relationship with creation, we will have the fullest life… we can participate in a new way of being a human in this world through the reality that Jesus brings. Now, here is what else we hear, perhaps the hardest thing in some ways: “I send you.” Uh-oh. The disciples are being sent… (are we disciples?… does that mean we are being sent somewhere? I get anxious when I travel!) I’m so over this tired cliché of “Episcopalians don’t do evangelism.” It’s so over played. Also, it’s not true. We invite people into our lives and show them a freedom many Christians don’t understand, and in that sharing this good news. We act out evangelism daily, often without speaking a word. But, yes, Jesus is telling the disciples to go out and proclaim, with words, new life, to proclaim reconciliation between people and God… Jesus is calling us to do the same. Our challenge, like it is for any Christian tradition, is to name, as individuals in our community, God’s reconciling work in our lives and share that with others. That is hard, it is like God asking us to share our scar stories, but instead of talking about that time you fell during a seizure and busted your chin open, you talk about how you couldn’t drive for two years. You talk about how you lost so much independence as a young adult with a disability and how the retired church women took turns taking you to the grocery store, picking you up for work… God is asking you to show your hands, the mark in your side, the signs of spiritual resurrection, the signs of new life. These spiritual scar stories are not often the ones we are willing to tell because they are not just physical signs of perseverance. Though, they can be physical, in a way, they often involve much more than that. They often involve telling of emotional, mental, and intellectual healing and peace you’ve found on the other side of a God-centered life, life after the scars have formed. The intimidating part of this sharing, the temptation to not share about this new life after the healing, is that it puts on full display our vulnerability, which is not a given like it is when we are talking about our physical bodies. Because, yes, of course if you fall out of a two-story building and land the wrong way it is pretty obvious to any human being you could break your arm. Living a disordered life, with thoughts that lead to painful thinking and behavior, painful to ourselves and others… those are not so obvious, some of us can hide those really well. But these are the healing stories we are called to share and people need to hear. People need to know that healing is possible and this is a place where it can start: All saints, a community centered on the reality of a loving, gracious, God. Those are the stories we need to share with our friends and neighbors. On May 4 th All Saint’s is hosting an “All Saints Loves Homewood” lawn party. Of course, the parade will be going on later that day, but earlier on we are opening our campus up and inviting the neighborhood over for a party on a gorgeous May day. Basically, we are part of a huge block party and we want you to stop by our house for some food, a beer, lemonade, watch the derby, listen to some live music… dunk Brad in a dunking booth. We are inviting our neighbors over to hang out and enjoy being together, and over that ice cold lemonade, while sharing that beer, with some great music in the background, that moment may very well be the time to share a scare story—maybe it’s a food prep scar, you took a little bit too much off the top of your finger, but nonetheless, share your story, share about the new life, this whole new way of being a human, what centered you, and where you found it, talk about how we are living into God’s reality, God’s dream here at All Saints… because that new life, that new reality, it’s an open invitation, and just like any good lawn party, the more the merrier.

Easter Sunday Sermon The Rev. Brad Landry March 31, 2024

Holy Saturday Sermon The Rev. Ranie Neislar March 30, 2024

"The Sorrowful Way" Good Friday Sermon The Rev. Cindy Carter March 29, 2024 The Passion According to John The Old City of Jerusalem is one of my favorite places on earth. I’ve visited that place on three different trips to Israel and Palestine, and I will never tire of it. If you’ve ever been there, perhaps you know what I mean. To walk where Jesus walked is an experience that is really difficult for me to find words to describe. But, the Old City, as ancient as it is, is not some sort of museum. It remains a living, breathing, vibrant city. Apartments where people live, a marketplace where people buy and sell, streets where children play and schools where they learn. It is full of brilliant colors and wonderful smells; and it is noisy.­­­­ A number of years ago, the group of pilgrims of which I was a part did what groups of pilgrims traditionally do in the Old City. We took turns carrying a cross along the Via Dolorosa, the Sorrowful Way, the route that Jesus took from his trial before the religious authorities to condemnation by the Roman Governor Pilate and finally to his crucifixion and burial… ending at what is now the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. For pilgrims, it is a very meaningful journey. But, as I walked along that day in the Old City, it suddenly dawned on me that no one around us seemed to notice what we were doing. No one was paying attention. For those of us who were pilgrims, it was a reverent, powerful experience, but for people in the Old City, it was just one more group of pilgrims. Nothing special. Israeli soldiers hassled Palestinian children playing in the street, tourist shops advertised their wares, all manner of items – everything from food and deliciously fragrant spices to clothing and shoes – were bought and solk. The busy life of the city went on as we walked the Sorrowful Way. And, then I realized - it was probably the same on that day when Jesus carried his cross to Golgotha. You see, the Roman Government that occupied Jerusalem crucified people literally all the time. Nothing unusual here. It was one of the ways that Rome kept things under control. It was how agitators were dealt with as a warning to others. And, while it was indeed public and violent and awful, it was usual. I’m guessing that the everyday life of the city went on as Jesus carried that cross. Perhaps only a few of Jesus’ followers who were scattered along the way noticed, but most of the people in the City that day weren’t really paying attention. One more man to be crucified. One more life that was expendable to preserve the “peace of Rome.” And, this Holy Week, I have wondered – how often do we miss the people travelling Sorrowful Ways all around us? Are suffering and sorrow so usual that we simply do not see it unless they smack us right in the face and affect us personally? How often do we fail to see the suffering, the violence, the sadness, the sorrow around us? If we miss the folks travelling on these Sorrowful Ways, how can we reach out to help them? And, if we fail to see the suffering and sorrow around us, do we perhaps risk our own minds becoming closed and our own hearts becoming hard ad uncaring hearts becoming hard and uncaring? (PAUSE) In a few moments, we will pray what the Prayer Book calls “The Solemn Collects.” We will pray for “people everywhere according to their needs.” We will pray for the church and for the nations of the world and those in authority. We will pray for those who suffer – the hungry and homeless, the sick and wounded, the lonely and fearful, the sorrowful and bereaved, those in prison, and those in mortal danger. We will pray for those who have not received the Gospel of Christ. I wonder – perhaps these prayers which are part of the Good Friday liturgy can help remove our complacency and inattention and remind us of all those travelling Sorrowful Ways. Perhaps we can pray these prayers today as a way to open our hearts and minds and eyes to see those close to us and those far away who need our love and help. Perhaps we can pray these prayers today to activate our hands and feet to do something to help. Today we gaze on the One who walked the Sorrowful Way and hung on a cross to show us how far love will go, what love looks like when it is lived to its fullest, to its completeness. May that One be our model of love and compassion, so we can truly see all those around us – close to us and far away – who walk the Sorrowful Way. So that we can show others the love we see on a cross today. AMEN.

Maundy Thursday Sermon The Rev. Brad Landry March 28, 2024

"Christian Guideposts for Joy on the Journey to the Cross" Sermon by The Rev. Ranie Neislar March 24, 2024  Human brokenness stood out to me clearly this Passion Sunday. Reading our sacred texts for this Sunday, I noticed, as I usually do, the sins of Judas, his blatant disloyalty, his corruption, the chief priests and their jealousy and fear, and as a result their plan to turn Jesus over as a threat to the government, the sinful system in which Pilate is also compliant. All these sinful individuals, these communities, and systems can seem so distant to us, yet they are closer than we would like to admit. This year the sinful reality of the people throughout these texts was sharply clear in a new way because they remind me of us, marked with brokenness, and are aptly described: as broken humanity. Before we explore those breaks and all that lays on the other side of them, it is very important to get clear on what I mean by humanity. God created everything with an intention; that intention was for all creation, including the human to be in right relationship with itself and with God. We failed to live as God intended. We failed to live into God’s intention, to be right with God, and the rest of creation, like our neighbors, people from different cultures, skin colors, religions, we failed to do right by the water, the air, and other aspects of God’s world. After some time, God sent God’s son to live as a creature, just like us: fully susceptible to the same failings we are susceptible to, better known as sin. Yet, this time, this creature, just like us in most ways, lived fully as God intended: Jesus didn’t fail to live as God intended and instead lived as, what we might call, the most humane creature to live. He was only able to be fully humane, fully as God intended, because, though he was fully like us, he was also fully God. And so, in the sense that Jesus lived perfectly into the intention that all persons are called into by God, he was fully human—he was able to live the most faithful, rich, full life that God has offered human creatures, because he was God in person form, and because he was the person, who lived entirely as God so intended, because he was God we have only to look towards Christ Jesus to understand what being fully human looks like. Anything that is less than that, any of what takes us away from God’s intention is our lacking humanity, or BREAKS in our humanity. Only Jesus is the true, full human. The rest of us have some lack, some brokenness that is less than human. All of that being said, I often look at other creatures, especially my dogs, and ponder the real possibility that they are more human than I am. There is so much here: to consider the divine becoming like us, “though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross.” If we take that text that Paul writes to the Philippians and use it as a prism through which we read the Passion narrative… at first glance it doesn’t make sense. Or rather, it doesn’t make sense to me. It doesn’t make sense that God, who created all things good, and right to begin with, is stuck fixing what we, creatures, got wrong in our freedom. It doesn’t make sense that a God propelled by an energy of pure love is willing and continues to be subject to everything in our lives that is not love, or good, or just. It doesn’t make sense that God, knowing full well how to live the most extravagant, lavish life, as a creature, chooses to allow his life to be cut short in an emotionally and physically painful way… an end punctuated by rejection. But that is what we are invited to do as we begin this Holy Week, to read and reflect on this sacred story as simple creatures. And through that reflection, through the week, can we most fully see the fullness of what we are called into as Christ-followers, it is only through that reflection can we most clearly see our own path forward as disciples— which is no path at all if it were not for divine intervention in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. On the other side of all the breaks of this world, this most human person is God that came to be with us, live like us, and invite us into a different way of being: a way through the gut-wrenching, soul-crushing breaks that all of us experience in our lives. Before Paul describes so succinctly Jesus’s life, death, and divinity, he says this “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus”… he is saying to the Philippians, and to us today, take on this mindset, set yourself on this path, follow the person Jesus along this way and be prepared to endure, to persevere through hard moments, and in some of the same moments experience a closeness with God and others like never before... and in the final season of reality as we know it, experience a glory unlike any you’ve ever known because you have lived a faithful life, pursuing love, accepting grace, and offering reconciliation. The reality of what lies on the other side of the tomb is most fully appreciated if we take the time now, to walk through this most holy week, and focus on the breaks—because we still live in a world marked by breaks in humanity. Last Tuesday night I was reminded of Holy Week and the hard story we are called to participate in and reflect on over and over again. I was called back, invited to see our human weakness, our inability to grasp God’s intention for us and our great need for reconciliation to God and one another. I was sitting in on a formation offering that has been ongoing Tuesday nights during Lent. It was a book study focused on racial healing. Racial justice and healing is something I am deeply passionate about so I was very excited that All Saints was participating. And though Tuesday night was the end of that particular book study, it was far from the end of All Saint’s participation in this work. On that night I was surrounded by All Saints parishioners of all ages, backgrounds, and stages of life, and each one of those individuals was deeply moved by the breaks in humanity and participating in the ongoing work of reconciliation, specifically racial reconciliation, but what is most outstanding is that each person realized that the work of reconciliation was not just their unique calling, but as disciples of Christ, as people who strive to “be of the same mind that was in Christ Jesus” they realized that each person, every disciple is called to participate in making a broken people more human. On the other side of Christ Jesus’s work as a creature in the world: a fully human and fully divine creature, is that which only the divine can work: reconciliation, healing, and justice on a cosmic level. I invite you into the most holy story this week, I invite you to reflect on the breaks in humanity then, and now, and to prepare yourselves to participate in what is on the other side of an open tomb.

"We Wish to See Jesus" Sermon by The Rev. Cindy Carter March 17, 2024 The religious leaders knew they had to do something. When they heard that Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead, they knew they had to do something. And, John’s Gospel tells us that “from that day on they planned to put him to death.” So, Jesus laid low with his disciples in the wilderness for a while. But, as the Feast of the Passover drew near, Jesus headed toward Jerusalem and a final confrontation with the powers that sought to destroy him and the message he brought. First, six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, just outside Jerusalem. Bethany was the hometown of Lazarus – the one Jesus had raised from the dead - and his sisters Mary and Martha. And when Jesus arrived in Bethany, these three good friends threw a dinner party for him. After dinner, Mary anointed Jesus’s feet with expensive, aromatic oil and then wiped his feet with her hair, in an extravagant, faithful act of love and devotion that filled the whole house with a beautiful fragrance. Perhaps Mary knew that this dear friend would not be with them much longer. When word got out that Jesus was back in Bethany and at Lazarus’ home, a great crowd gathered there. They gathered not only to see Jesus, but also they came to see Lazarus – this one who had been dead and now was alive. Now the religious leaders knew they had to do something – not only about Jesus but also about Lazarus. The following day the crowd that was already gathered in Jerusalem for the Passover festival heard that Jesus was coming into town, and they went out to meet him with palm branches and shouts of Hosanna. And, they kept talking. Talking about Jesus calling Lazarus out of the tomb, talking, talking, talking about Jesus. And, the religious leaders knew that things were out of control – everyone was going after Jesus to follow him. They had to do something. That is the ominous and threatening setting for our Gospel reading today. Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. We don’t know exactly who these Greeks were. They may have been Gentile converts to Judaism, but more likely they were Jews who had been dispersed from their homeland. We don’t know exactly why they had come to Jerusalem for the Passover festival this year. But, I am guessing that in Jerusalem they had heard all this talk about Jesus, because they came to one of the disciples, Philip, with a request – Sir, we wish to see Jesus. Sir, we want to see Jesus. Can you help us? Then, Philip went and told Andrew about this request. Now I have a special place in my heart for Andrew. First, because Andrew is the saint for whom the parish in Kansas City where I first acknowledged God’s call to ordained ministry is named. It is the place where my call was shaped and challenged, and the place where clergy and lay people helped me discern more fully the call I was hearing. I never hear the name Andrew that I do not see in my mind the beautiful stained glass window of Andrew high above the back of the nave there. But there is another reason that Andrew holds a special place in my heart. I love Andrew, because he seems be the guy who over and over again brings people to Jesus. It is often said that “it’s all who you know.” Connections are important, and John’s Gospel makes it clear that if you wanted to know Jesus, then it was good to know Andrew. First, it was his brother Simon Peter – when Andrew told Simon that he had found the Messiah and then brought him to Jesus. Then, it was a boy who had five barley loaves and two fish with him, when Jesus and his disciples were faced with thousands of hungry people and nothing with which to feed them. It was Andrew who said, “There is a little boy here..” and then connected that little boy to Jesus. And, now it is Andrew who takes these Greeks who are seeking to see Jesus to the master. Sir, we wish to see Jesus. Sir, we want to see Jesus. Can you help us? I have found myself wondering – If those Greeks (or others like them) were to show up here at All Saints his morning would they be granted their heart’s desire? Would they be able to see Jesus? Could we help them with their request? If people came here today, with this request that these Greeks made, would they be able to see the Jesus who reveals the heart of a loving God by giving up all of himself and going to the cross? Would they see Jesus, whose love knows no boundaries? Would they see Jesus, whose table always has room for more? Would they see Jesus, who brought people into his work of ministry, who shared that ministry with them so they could share the love they had found? Or, would they leave disappointed? Still seeking to see Jesus? Of course, I would like to think that we, like Andrew, would point them to Jesus. Not that they would simply hear about Jesus (although that is important), but that they would truly see Jesus. That Jesus would be real for them in what they saw and experienced here at All Saints. What does it mean to show people Jesus? I think this is more than a passing question for a Sunday morning sermon. I think it is something for us to think seriously about – individually and as a congregation. Because how can we claim to be Christ’s body in the world – Christ’s eyes and ears, head and heart, feet and hands – if how we live does not show people Jesus? Metropolitan Anthony Bloom, the Bishop of the Russian Orthodox Church in Britain and Ireland from 1957 to 2003, said that “We should try to live in such a way that if the Gospels were lost, they could be rewritten by looking at us.” Following the example of Andrew who showed others the way to Jesus, may it be so with us. AMEN.

"Grace is the Last Word" Sermon by The Rev. Ranie Neislar March 10, 2024 Our history with God is not linear. As a people of faith, we’ve had moments of doubt, questions, and wrong turns. Each one of us can look back on our own stories and see how we’ve made errors in judgement… we’ve stumbled along in the adventure of life. I’ve experienced quite a few of my own stumbling--seasons when it felt as if any goodness in my life had left me… and yet, great things, events that are born out of faith, continued to be made manifest in my life through a stubborn faith—the end of one marriage didn’t mark me as a failure in relationships forever, yes, I had doubts, but in time, through patience, prayer, and a lingering sense of hope, came a great, amazing love, more than I could have ever imagined in my husband, Worth. My path to ordination was not a simple, not an easy one step, two step, and done experience. I had plenty of zig-zags, moments of questioning, finally to culminate in ordination, a call to a wonderful parish in Huntsville, AL, and now, to another wonderful parish. Our lives are not linear, easy, simple consistent conversations with God, marked entirely with good ideas, faithfulness, and exemplary of good discipleship. Yet, that doesn’t shake the surprise of God’s judgement of humanity, humans similar to us. On the face of it, in our sacred texts, God has judged the chosen people as sinful and in these Lenten texts, like the ones we hear this morning, that can leave an uncomfortable mark in our hearts, and a bad taste in our mouths, for we too also fall short of God’s hopes. But, of course there is good news for the chosen people, and for us, despite the truth of our fallen ways, God’s judgement of condemnation is not the final word in our stories. The good news is that despite the confusion, the hard conversations, our conversation with God doesn’t end with a condemnation to die and be slaves to sin, but to evolve through an ongoing conversation with God. The people coming out of Egypt complain to God and Moses, they lose sight of God’s identity as a liberator and there are consequences to that… we have our own moments, when we lose sight of God’s identity and similarly experience consequences—perhaps not venomous snakes, but this is one of the truths of our story—when we lose sight of God’s identity, there will be consequences. It may be a loss of hope, and in our loss we make seek the easier paths or look to blame others for our lack, because when we forget the divine identity as the great Liberator, the faithful one, when we lose sight of that identity, we are tempted to act in ways that are not the ways of God. Again, I hope in your darkest seasons, when you have lost sight of the identity of God you have not had venomous snakes come after you, but at some point in our lives all of us have lost sight of God’s identity as the faithful one. As fallen creatures we experience the biting consequences of our inability to discern God as faithful, good, and loving. And even when we are beginning to sense our God again, the goodness, the faithfulness, it doesn’t always come easily… there are still stumbling blocks along the path, there are still events, temptations, on the adventure we are living out that draw our attentions. Again, our individual, and our communal history as creations are not linear, but evolving… and in so many ways, that is a good thing… that is a good thing… because throughout that history, there has been a singular event that brings all these histories together, an event that marks all of our shortcomings, an event that surpasses our inability to maintain a sense of God’s identity, and is so succinctly put in our Gospel reading: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” There are moments throughout Lent when the conviction of loss, the conviction of our Sin, our need to alter our ways of living that the heaviness that accompanies conviction can be overwhelming: our postures slide towards the incorrect inclination that we are doomed to live sinful lives, lives that consistently return to doubting the goodness of God, questioning the faithfulness of God, and our own ability to be faithful… I want to remind you of one thing, one thing that I hope sustains you through these hard moments of conviction, moments when we feel we have ultimately failed and will continue to do so… if I could write myself, all of us one sentence to endure hard moments, moments when we feel we are forever lost in the wilderness it would be this: “Dear Reader, God has already had the last conversation with you and it ended with grace.” That’s all. Every moment, every conversation, every wilderness season, all our most sinful, strayed moments are brought to the light through this one event, the event of God’s saving act in Jesus’s death and resurrection. This event defies time, moments of the past, the future, all time, all events, every person is reflected like a prism through this one event in history and through it we are presented as redeemed creations. The hardest part, of our ongoing conversation with God, for the people in the wilderness, or our children, our grandchildren, and generations we will never know, the hardest part for us is accepting this judgement of grace, accepting that as much as we lose our way during the adventure of our lives, the conversation with God continues even when no words are spoken. Through months, years, decades of ignoring or outright defying the identity of God, God awaits our words, our mumblings, God remains a faithful conversation partner by sustaining our relationship. God prepares a table for us, in anticipation that we pull back to the table, and even through the generations, even if we never turn back to the conversation, God has proclaimed the last word, and it is grace.