When the world feels too broken to fix, the gospel does not offer escape . . . it offers presence. It stays in the struggle, sees what others ignore, and speaks freedom where systems have failed.

When the world feels too broken to fix, the gospel does not offer escape . . . it offers presence. It stays in the struggle, sees what others ignore, and speaks freedom where systems have failed.
As the program year winds down, St. John’s looks ahead to what’s next: a return to three Sunday services, a summer move to Alfriend Hall, and a fresh take on a beloved tradition—all signs of a church alive and thriving.
At St. John’s, a bold new Vision and Mission now shape our life together—naming a call to deep roots, true belonging, and abundant grace. Rooted in prayer and alive with hope, these words are more than a statement; they are a map to the Spirit-led future God is calling us to build.
On Easter morning, Mary Magdalene stands weeping in a garden, lost in grief—until the risen Jesus speaks her name. This is a story of grace that finds us, even when we cannot find our way.
From Eden to the empty tomb, the Great Vigil proclaims this: exile is over, Christ is risen, and God is calling us by name into a new creation. The garden is alive again.
On a night thick with tension and sorrow, Jesus didn’t wait for the world to be okay—he knelt anyway, fed anyway, and loved anyway. In a world aching for peace, his quiet presence still holds us fast.
Not every prayer has to ask or achieve. Sometimes the holiest thing you can do is sit still and love God for no reason at all.
Every baptized person is a missionary, called to cross borders with Christ’s love. Reconciliation begins when we show up, listen, and love.
What if every ordinary moment was already holy? This sermon explores how we learn to see the sacred in everyday life.
Some of God’s greatest promises were made in the dark. This Lenten sermon invites us to move beyond daylight faith and trust the promise, even in uncertainty.