This Memorial Day message draws us into a reflection on Deuteronomy 1:9-13, where Moses invites the people to choose wise, discerning, and reputable leaders from among themselves to help govern their shared life. That same scripture shaped a foundational moment in American history: Rev. Thomas Hooker’s 1638 sermon to the Connecticut General Assembly, which inspired the Fundamental Orders of Connecticut—the first written constitution in the Western world.

In this sermon, we consider how biblical values of justice, shared leadership, and God-centered governance became the spiritual roots of American democracy. From the peaceful fields of Gettysburg to the personal story of a modern immigrant student filled with gratitude for opportunity, we are invited to build lives that are living memorials—marked by wisdom, service, and righteousness. In a divided world, this message asks: what legacy will you leave behind? What will your life stand for?

On the night before his crucifixion, Jesus offers his disciples one final commandment—not a plan, not a parable, but a legacy: “Love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34). In this message, we explore what it means to take that command seriously—not as a gentle suggestion, but as the defining mark of the Christian life. This is not sentimental love; it’s love that shows up, bears burdens, washes feet, crosses boundaries, and costs something. In a time when division is loud and compassion often quiet, this kind of love is how the world will know who we are—and whose we are.

This Mother’s Day sermon explores the transformation of Saul in Acts 9:1-20, not just through a dramatic divine encounter, but through the quiet courage of people like Ananias—and the unnamed hands that led, fed, and cared for him during his blindness. It’s a story of caregiving, community, and the sacred power of showing up. Whether or not you are a mother, you’ve likely played a part in someone’s transformation simply by loving them through uncertainty. Drawing from personal stories and Scripture, this message invites us to honor the unseen labor that makes new life possible. Because it doesn’t just take a village to raise a child—it takes a village to raise a soul.

In Luke 24:13–35, two disciples walking to Emmaus encounter a mysterious stranger who opens the scriptures to them and ultimately reveals Himself in the breaking of bread. This moment—alongside the reminder from Hebrews 13:2 not to neglect hospitality to strangers—shapes our understanding of how Christ is often encountered through unexpected people and surprising conversations.

Drawing also from Mark 16:12–13, this sermon explores the Christian tradition of seeing the sacred in strangers. In a culture that conditions us toward "stranger danger," Jesus invites us into something radically different: welcoming the unfamiliar, recognizing the divine in unexpected places, and remembering that some of the most transformative encounters come from those we do not yet know. Through the experiences shared from the recent AMO mission trip to Kenya, we are reminded that often the sacred is found not in the familiar, but in the foreign—at tables shared with strangers who become lifelong friends in Christ.

On the evening of the resurrection, in John 20:19–29, Jesus appears to His disciples behind locked doors. Despite their fear and failure, He offers them peace—not once, but three times. These words are not just soothing sentiments; they are a spiritual command, a declaration of wholeness in the midst of brokenness. The scars on Jesus’ body are not erased in His resurrection; instead, they become symbols of victory and testimony.

Drawing also on John 14:27, where Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you,” this sermon explores how Christ’s peace is unlike anything the world gives. It’s not the absence of scars, but the transformation of them into signs of healing, hope, and renewal. We are invited to claim this peace for ourselves and carry it into our homes, workplaces, and communities—not as perfect people, but as wounded witnesses of God’s redeeming love.

When we accept the gift of peace, we generate good energy—the kind that radiates grace, steadies tension, and restores what’s broken. That’s the call of the Risen Christ: to go into the world as people of peace, scars and all.

On that first Easter morning, as articulated in Luke 24:1-12, faithful women rose early, not to witness a miracle—but to finish the hard work of grief. Instead, they found an empty tomb, a rolled-away stone, and an unexpected question: Why do you look for the living among the dead? This Easter message explores how resurrection reshapes our routines and how each morning is an invitation to begin again—grounded in hope and joy.

Drawing on the story of the empty tomb, the enduring words of Psalm 118:24, and even the architectural choices of our forebears who built the church to face the sunrise, this sermon reminds us: Easter isn’t just a day. It’s a way of life.

In the sacred stillness of Gethsemane, Jesus shows us how to pray under pressure. This message reflects on Luke 22:39-46 and the symbol-laden olive grove where Jesus spent His final night in deep, honest prayer. What does it mean to pray, “Not my will, but yours be done”? What can an olive tree teach us about resilience and surrender? Drawing from personal pilgrimage to the Mount of Olives, this sermon explores the gift of sacred spaces, the purpose of prayer in pain, and the power of spiritual transformation even under crushing circumstances.

What if your greatest work isn’t the loudest or most visible—but the most faithful? This sermon explores the early church’s first internal conflict and how it led to the creation of the diaconate and care ministry. Drawing from Acts 6:1–8, we discover that meaningful service—like waiting tables or preparing Communion—is not only sacred, it’s the kind of work that transforms us. From Stephen and Philip in the Book of Acts to the Stephen Ministers and deacons in today’s church, “great work” begins with the willingness to serve others well.