Tag Archives: easter

April 21, 2019

Easter at City Square Church

A fully inclusive celebration of life that comes when we leave the things of death behind.

*Sunrise Service: 6AM at Central Park 140 E Tonto St (south of Primera Iglesia)

*Breakfast Potluck: 8:30AM at Primera Iglesia

*Easter Service: 10AM at Primera Iglesia

*Easter Egg Hunt for the kids after the 10AM Service

April 21, 2019

Easter Sunrise at Central Park

Join us for a simple service of word and table as we remember the promises of resurrection and new life.

April 1, 2018

Easter at City Square

Sunrise Service at Coronado Park at 6AM

Breakfast at Primera at 8:30AM

Worship at Primera at 10AM

A fully inclusive celebration of life that comes when we leave the things of death behind.

April 1, 2018

Easter Sunrise Service in Coronado

Building on Coronado tradition, City Square hosts our 4th Easter Sunrise Service in Coronado Park. Join us for a simple service of word and table as we remember the promises of resurrection and new life.

April 4, 2013

Giving Away What Really Matters

In my last post I wrote about the difficulties associated with journeying through the darkness to find those things that give life and those things that matter most to us. When we truly discover those things, however, we will still question ourselves. We will quickly look for certainty. Is this who I really am? Is this what I’m really supposed to do?

Faith, is about giving up certainty.

I meet so many people who are looking for work or are unhappy in their current job and just want to follow their dreams and passions. In fact, I go to bed at night thinking about these folks and praying for them. When I wake up in the morning I often ask myself, am I doing enough to help them? But then I doubt. I doubt that there’s anything this terribly flawed pastor, husband and father can do to help others. There’s not enough opportunities out there, not enough time, not enough money. There’s jobs but not the “right” jobs.

Faith, is about giving up certainty.

And then there are the folks who aren’t working, on purpose. Well, sort of. They’ve left corporate jobs, jobs that allowed them to sock away enough savings that, just when those jobs had sucked the last bit of life out of them, they were able to walk away and spend a year or two following opportunities they were passionate about. Yet many of those opportunities don’t exist, they must be created, they must be fought for because our own minds and our world will fight against them. It’s hard to push forward when you start to doubt because you’ve heard “that will never work,” for what seems like the ten-millionth time.

Faith, is about giving up certainty.

Traditionally, the Gospel story that we encounter the week after Easter is the story of “doubting” Thomas. The disciples are huddled away in a room somewhere, heart broken over Jesus’ death and terrified that they may be next. Suddenly, the risen Christ appears to them, only for a few moments, but long enough for their hope to be restored. But everyone wasn’t there. Thomas was out grabbing a bite to eat, or something, and when he returns and hears what should be good news, he’s skeptical. Clearly, his friends are delusional. Thomas must believe without seeing. He must have faith. But he only believes when Jesus reappears, a week later, and Thomas can physically touch him.

Thomas is all of us. We have to see and touch in order to have faith. We have to know something will work, will be successful, profitable or meaningful. We can’t take that first step without certainty.

Faith, is about giving up certainty.

There are days when I’m terrified because I don’t know what’s going to happen a few years down the road or even a few months down the road. I worry about my career, my reputation and I worry about my family more than anything. I want certainty and I want to do whatever is necessary to hedge my bets, to create a safety net and to ensure my future and my family’s well-being in case I fail. I can’t give my time or talents to anyone or anything else because I’m not certain about my own life. Sorry, friends, but you’re on your own.

Okay, so those are my worst days. On my best days I’m that guy who can’t stop thinking about all of those people who just want to follow what they’re passionate about.

The disciples were pursuing what they were passionate about: God’s kingdom made fully known and present on earth; peace, justice and well-being for all of creation. Yet those hopes and dreams were shattered with the death of their leader. It would be faith that would move them forward, faith that is not immune to doubt, but the faith that if we give ourselves away, we will eventually realize the dreams and goals of the kingdom.

Even though Lent is over and we are early into the Easter season, let’s give up one more thing, let’s give up certainty. Let’s have the faith that if we work for the needs of others, that if we help other people follow what they are passionate about, that the rest will be taken care of.

So call that friend, family member or acquaintance and tell them you are here to help. Volunteer at that charity or non-profit that you’ve always been meaning to help with but just couldn’t find the time to (and to read more about the benefits of giving of your time and resources, check this article out),

Give up certainty.

Embrace fatih.

Follow your passion.

Change one life.

Change the world.

March 21, 2013

The Hard Work of Discovering What Really Matters

I deeply appreciate Holy Week. I don’t think it would sound quite right to say I “love” it or that it’s my favorite part of the Christian liturgical cycle, but I appreciate it. We spend the season of Lent preparing for Holy Week, stripping away those things that distract us and separate us from God and our neighbor. During Holy Week we are faced with dealing with the deep realities of our lives and our world. No longer are we focused on giving up coffee, or social media, or taking on a new spiritual practice, we are pushed to go deeper than that: we must deal with injustice, suffering and death.

The story of Palm Sunday, Jesus’ “grand” entrance into Jerusalem is the beginning of the Holy Week narrative. Jesus’ followers and those who lined the streets for what actually wasn’t such a grand entrance, believed this was a new beginning. And it was a new beginning, however, it was a beginning to a story that had a different ending from the one they expected.

Jesus’ entrance into Jerusalem was a joke compared to how a Roman official would enter a city. Their entrance would have been in true opulent fashion, with armed soldiers in a show of prominence and imperial power. So, Jesus’ entrance is meant to be ironic. He comes in on a young horse (donkey in other gospels) with his ragtag bunch of followers, mocking the roman processional. He’s the humble king, riding into town, not as a military ruler, but as the Messiah, the anointed one, who fights the battles of the world with love, humility, healing, compassion and restorative justice.

We spend so much time in our lives trying to attain that prominence and power, looking to find the next best thing, upgrading, getting a promotion or that big break. The more status we attain, the more stuff we get, the happier we will be; that’s what the world tells us, anyway. However, Jesus’ processional reminds us that it’s not about how flashy our stuff is, but it’s about the values we carry with us.

I’ve been intrigued lately by stories of people and businesses who are moving away from a “profits first, ask questions later” model and are working to build companies and products and cultures that benefit our lives and our world. There’s this story of an entrepreneur and millionaire who, after selling two luxury residences, now lives in a 420 square foot studio apartment because he found it was love, not stuff, that made him happy. Or this story about companies who intentionally pass up higher profits because people and the environment are just as important as making money. These stories are only possible because people were willing to ask the hard the questions and make meaningful changes. Sometimes, you have to walk through the darkness to find the light.

The Holy Week narrative will continue, recounting what happens when love goes up against violence and injustice. Initially love will not win and there will be intense suffering and darkness. There will be questions of God’s justice and goodness. There will be grieving and hope will be a far off fantasy. The Christian story would not be compelling if it ended there because all too often we hear that story, we live that story, where darkness crushes the light, where hate wins out over love.

So we remember that the story never ends there because when we strip away all of those things that we think we need, we uncover something new, things we didn’t think were possible: love, compassion and humility, true meaning and value. It is then that we glimpse the image of God that sits at the core of our being. It’s an image that is buried under so many misconceptions of who we are and what makes us happy, buried under so much pain, suffering and hopelessness. But it’s an image filled with so many possibilities of hope that we find on Easter morning when we discover the tomb is empty. Until we get there, though, we must continue to journey inward, to strip away, to empty ourselves so we can discover those things that really matter.