These letters from Pastor Harry and church leaders explore the challenges we face as people of faith in a complicated and fearful world, not unlike the world that Paul faced, and not unlike the world that Dr. King faced down.
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April 19, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
I never thought much about Holy Saturday before.
It has always been a day of preparation, to catch my breath after Holy Week which seems to be more busy and anxiety-provoking than I think. So, I spend my Saturday consumed with the Easter sermon I give the next day. Can I find the right angle? Do I have the right message? Is it good enough? Will anyone remember it?
I remember some. I remember when visitors came to Easter at my Ohio church and spent the entire service stuck in our old elevator when the door wouldn’t open and the fire personnel across the street had to come and get them out. I never saw them again.
Or the time it snowed so hard the night before that when I got to church early in the morning the driveway entrance was piled up with snow, pushed there by the street plows. Frantic shoveling and some early arrivals helped to clear an opening, and Easter was saved.
But this Holy Week seems especially important. On Maundy Thursday I could feel the sadness and see the shadows more. I anticipated Judas’ betrayal and found myself saying, “It is I, Lord.” I easily fell asleep in the garden, relieved that I could just let Jesus take it from here. I didn’t even raise a hand when Jesus was arrested but just thought how fortunate I was that I didn’t stand out enough to be noticed. I was relieved when I wasn’t allowed in the room where religious authorities interrogated him. On Good Friday I stood at a safe distance from Pilate and Empire and when it got tense I stood behind someone else. I kept silent and didn’t interfere when people around me yelled “Crucify him!” and wonder now if I had mouthed the words. I moved further away as Jesus carried his cross. Did I turn my back as well so Jesus wouldn’t see me? I didn’t want to see his eyes, how utterly disappointed they might look if those eyes, oh those eyes, caught mine. I ran away in the afternoon darkness and never thought I would see light again.
It’s Saturday now. “Sermon Preparation Saturday”. “Getting anxious about Easter Saturday”. Nothing else is on the church calendar now that Jesus is safely in the tomb.
Oh, but I did hear a rumor that some women from the church are planning to go to his tomb early in the morning. Thought I might join them if I get up in time.
It’s pretty early though. Not sure it’s worth it. And besides, I may still have my Easter sermon to finish.
Grace and Peace,
Harry
Recent Letters
April 12, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
I thought I heard alleluias.
I really did, every Palm Sunday, year after year, this parade of joy and celebration and waving palms, this recognition finally that Jesus is the man, the one that inexplicably defeats Empire for this one shining day on a donkey.
It’s like Easter without the eggs, without the cross, without the crucifixion. Less messy and more fun. Who doesn’t like a parade?
Yes, it’s time to sing our alleluias!
Arpil 5, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
Healing you, me, and the world.
I know this sounds a bit far-fetched, but the Bible doesn’t think so. Page after page is filled with stories of people who are ultimately persuaded that they and the world can be healed, with God’s help. Like our story last Sunday of Naaman, the great commander of the Aramaean army who was healed of a skin ailment. Let’s start there.
What did Naaman do to be healed? Not much really. He got angry. He felt entitled. He thought he could buy his way to healing. Then he listened to his wife who listened to a slave girl who talked about the power of God through the Prophet Elisha. And just as Elijah said, Naaman was healed on the seventh dip. How, again? And what about those first six dips? Here are some ideas, dip by dip . . .
March 29, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
When I get discouraged about church, Christianity, this present day . . .
Yes, you can answer this. Don’t wait for me. But while you are thinking and since I posed the question let me tell you how I would answer. I read John Philip Newell books. The latest one, The Great Search, has been the subject of our current Adult Education series that wraps up this Sunday.
March 22, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
When I think about it I am a bit amused and somewhat surprised.
I never imagined in my early years that I would ever give a sermon, let alone keep giving them for forty-one years! By my rough calculation I have given 1600 sermons and logged around 13,000 hours preparing them.
I cringe thinking about my first sermons and still cringe when I can’t figure out a way to make scripture come alive and grab hold of us and take us to a new address. That’s on me, not scripture. It has plenty of power and resources to change lives.
March 15, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
Here I am, Lord.
Have you ever said this? I know we sing the hymn a few times a year with this refrain, but have you ever thought more about what it means?
Be careful if you do. Ask a prophet, any of them, and you’ll learn that a call from God is not all sunbeams on a golden field or fluffy clouds spelling out your name. (Where did we ever get that idea?) Instead, God’s call comes in times of spiritual desolation, religious corruption, political danger, and social upheaval.
March 8, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
Jesus wept.
If you want to impress your friends with reciting Bible verses this is the one. It is easy to memorize, yes, but that’s where easy ends. Jesus weeps and it’s hard to watch. The fully divine don’t weep, do they? But the fully human do, I know, those who feel deeply the plight of the human spirit trying to survive in a world turned upside down and sideways.
March 1, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
Do I sacrifice my corn dog and let my coke splash to the ground?
Let me back up. It must be told that after all the games I have watched in stadiums across the country, I am yet to catch a foul ball at a major league baseball game.
I came oh-so-close twice. The first when I was twelve and came down with a fever the Sunday I was to go to a Dodger game with my friend and his parents and they gave my ticket to their uncle who sat in my seat. I get a call that afternoon saying that the uncle caught a foul ball! Came right to him, my friend told me. Right to my seat.
February 22, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
The forgiveness of sins.
Who would have thought this one small phrase could be traced back to the earliest books of the Bible, found in the narratives of cultures ancient and now, and has perpetually occupied the souls and pews of Christians in Sunday worship and in prayer? It has and still does.
Before I go any further let me state plainly and simply we all need forgiveness. We’ve all done things our moms would disapprove of. …
February 15, 2025
Dear Saints in Santa Fe, and other far-off places:
Greetings in the name and spirit of Jesus Christ!
What crisis was it today?
Every night after my brothers and I were in bed, mom and dad would sit in the kitchen and ask that very question. The country was coming apart at the seams, and so was Pasadena. The Vietnam war was at its brutal worst, the civil rights movement was splintering following the assassination of Dr. King, Robert Kennedy was killed just a few miles from us, controversy around Angela Davis was driving people from the Presbyterian Church, Pasadena was roiled by racial strife, smog filled the San Gabriel valley,,,