​Last week, I talked about the "secret" in the suffering of our current global pandemic — the practice of consenting to what we did not choose. For there is a greater freedom found in the acceptance of our reality than in our ability to transform reality. And yet as we consent to what we did not choose, even though the world remains the same, our heart and our postures shift and transform our very experience of reality.

And so as we stare down the next weeks, maybe months, in quarantine, I am inviting each and every one of you to embark on a journey to find freedom in constraint.

For there are gifts to be found here in the wilderness of lock-down that we wouldn't receive in more buoyant times. There are things to be learned here that we wouldn't learn except for our current realities. These are the unique kairos moments of invitation in every moment, every day, and every season. No matter how difficult the circumstances, the Spirit's invitation beckons.

As The Practicing Church, our mission remains the same. We want to join in the renewal of all things through practices that ground us in the love of God and neighbor. Transformation is the goal. We want to practice the Way of Jesus to come home to love and embody love to our neighbor. And so over the next eight weeks, we want to journey together to find an interior freedom that no constraint or circumstance can touch.

Are you ready?

These apocalyptic times are revealing much. About us. About our consolations and desolations. And about what it means to be the church. As a contemplative missional community, we have struggled with how we are to be the church in light of spacial distancing. So much of our ethos of hospitality, embodiment, service and faithful presence now seeming painfully elusive.

We know we don't want to create a product to consume. For church is not an event but a community where every member is responsible for their own spiritual formation with gifts to give and receive. And we are committed now more than ever to being the church and sharing a way of life that forms us in the way of love. Folks everywhere are rediscovering the value of the local and the beauty of the neighborhood in the midst of sheltering in place. It is confirming all we know to be true about living the gospel here on the ground in our everyday lives and participating in the flourishing of our neighborhoods.

And so we are committed to taking this journey with you to move from anger to consent, from despair to hope, and from fear to love. And in a season of intense distancing, we are going to lean into presence however we can. All of the details will be unfolding in the following weeks; but here is a brief outline.

1) WE WILL JOURNEY TOWARD INTERIOR FREEDOM.
We will collectively journey through the book and study guide for Interior Freedom. This is one of my favorite books and Father Jacques has much to teach us about freedom in constraint. We have ordered multiple copies and will be getting them to you upon arrival.

2) WE WILL ENGAGE IN PRACTICES OF FAITHFUL PRESENCE — LOVING GOD, NEIGHBOR AND OURSELVES EVERY WEEK.

• Present to God: We will choose solitude over isolation and engage in practices of communing with God.

 

• Present to our Neighbors: We will look for ways to continue to love our neighbors from checking in on vulnerable neighbors, to giving grocery cards to families in need, and offering our gifts to the community.

 

• Present to Ourselves: We will attend to our own souls and health during this time, being intentional to implement life-giving rhythms.

3) WE WILL JOURNEY TOGETHER.

• Partnering: We will each pair up with a partner to do weekly check-ins with our practices and book reflections - and well, just care for one another.

 

• Spiritual Direction: We love the work of spiritual direction where a spiritual companion accompanies one in the work of discernment in their life. If this is something you are missing or longing for, we can help connect you to a spiritual director.

 

• Weekly Rhythms: We will continue to gather weekly online every Sunday as well as practice a few other life-sustaining rhythms (upon your feedback) to keep us all centered and sane.

An Invitation
The truth is that as much grief as we are all holding in this time, we have a profound opportunity to grow in faith, hope, and love. And as confining as our circumstances might feel, there is an interior freedom we can cultivate that cannot be constrained. In these extraordinary times, I believe there is an extraordinary invitation.

Will you say yes and embark on the journey?

Join us this Sunday as we begin leaning in. The choice is yours.

Freedom awaits you.


​by Jessica Ketola

​I keep waking up with the weight of the world pressing in, inciting my own prayers to heaven. Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy on us all. These are difficult times. And while no person’s experience of sheltering in place is the same, it is disruptive for everyone. For some, quarantine is a long vacation from the confines of their homes. For others, they are facing the terror of financial distress. For many, this is a much-needed corrective to slow down. But for those on the front lines, the work load has increased along with the additional burdens of risk, grief, and anxiety.

For parents who are working from home and having to juggle the responsibilities for caring for and homeschooling their children, life is almost unmanageable. Contrast that with those who live alone and haven’t felt human touch now for weeks. Then there are the high school students who won’t have a senior prom or graduation, the college students who have been forced home in isolation from the community of their dorm life, and all the students and teachers now relegated to the confounding and sterile world of online learning. Yes, it is disruptive to say the least.

And all this is overshadowed by those ravaged by the coronavirus – those who are struggling for their very breath, the grieving families forced to be apart from their loved ones, and the healthcare workers who are overwhelmed with anguish as they hold hand after hand of those passing from this life to the next. Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy on us. The collective grief is heavy and palpable in the air.

Which seems fitting, because today begins the Triduum of Holy Week where we enter into the grief of Jesus’ passion, crucifixion, and death. Here we find Jesus just hours away from his betrayal that will begin the arduous journey to the cross. And we find Jesus troubled, distressed, and heartbroken. Sometimes, we forget that Jesus was human just like you and me. For we see a Jesus full of grief and wrestling as he tarries and groans in the Garden of Gethsemane. Buckling under the weight of all that is coming – the impending betrayal and abandonment of those closest to him; the agony, humiliation and injustice of the cross; and a magnitude of suffering of which few can fully fathom.

So how in Jesus’ humanity did he endure this? I mean, really. We are hard pressed here in our own versions of COVID misery-and-suffering, but how is this possible?

I believe it is because he knew “the secret”. Far from creating his own reality or self-actualizing, Jesus chose to lay his life down. He didn’t simply endure suffering, but he consented to it. This is the confounding, upside-down gospel that says, “Whoever seeks to gain their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life will preserve it.” [Luke 17:33]

Steeped in a culture that avoids suffering at all cost, we are prone to fight and rail against difficulty in our lives. And yet the mystic saints would say that the path to finding interior freedom regardless of external circumstances is through acceptance and consent. Consenting to that which we did not choose. Trusting that the God who is able to draw good out of whatever befalls us will do so.

Etty Hillesum, a young Jewish woman who died in Auschwitz in 1943 learned this “secret” in the midst of great suffering. She wrote, “I now realize, God, how much You have given me. So much that was beautiful and so much that was hard to bear. Yet whenever I showed myself ready to bear it, the hard was directly transformed into the beautiful.” [An Interrupted Life: The Diaries and Letters of Etty Hillesum]

For the most painful suffering is the suffering we reject — and what really hurts is not so much suffering itself as the fear of suffering. While it seems counterintuitive, when we embrace our suffering, we open ourselves up to the beauty of transformation and new life. Now I get it. Acceptance doesn’t happen overnight, but we can begin to shift our hearts and our minds towards this work of the Spirit. It’s a process — through the resistance, rebellion, and resignation to acceptance and finally consent.

We have been taught that our happiness and freedom is about our ability to seek our own pleasure, choosing what suits us best from a wide variety of possibilities. And yet, we currently are experiencing that there is much in life we do not choose. In fact, we have far less control than we think. We are now experiencing just a taste of what those who experience oppression, illness, poverty and injustice know far too well. As our lives are now being constrained, our freedom narrowed, and our choices limited, there is a deeper truth. True freedom is consenting to what we did not originally choose. It is choosing the humble way of trust and surrender.

Jesus said, “No one takes my life from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.” [John 10:17]

Here is a paradox. His life was certainly taken from him; he was put in chains, condemned, led to Calvary, and crucified. But, as the liturgy says this was a “death he freely accepted.” In his heart was deep acceptance of what His Father wanted. Jesus remained supremely free in his death, because he made it into an offering of love. By his free and loving consent, the life that was taken became a life given. [Jacques Philippe, Interior Freedom]

As we journey through Holy Week facing the difficulties of restraint and quarantine, how can we surrender our grief, loneliness, anger, sadness and fear? How does our life taken become a life given? And what beauty awaits us as we find the deep place of freedom within that no external power can take away?

This is the mystery of the cross, the paradoxical “secret” of the gospel — that nothing can separate us from the love of God. When all else is gone, faith, hope and love remain, and the greatest of these is love. [I Corinthians 13:13] So let us accompany Jesus to the cross, laying down our lives in surrender, knowing that in the end, we are surrendering to love. And love wins every single time.


by Jessica Ketola

***To enter into Holy Week, we are providing you a liturgy for Stations on the Street.

We invite you this Holy Week to journey with Jesus to the cross and to connect the Easter story right here in the ordinary stuff of your life and your neighborhood. Use the liturgy below to walk meditatively through your neighborhood pondering the depth of Christ's passion. 

Today, I am grieving. And while there is much to grieve in the world. Far too much to grieve I'm afraid. I am grieving losses a little closer to home.

I'm grieving the beauty of faces across the room, the comfort of a touch or a hug, the joy of feasting together over a candlelit table, sharing our lives and our hearts, as our voices fall and rise with stories and songs, our bodies resonating with vibration, letting us know that we are not alone.

I'm grieving the tangible, the ordinary, the up close and personal — of presence.

For the past six years, I have been attempting (admittedly poorly at times) to grow in the practice of presence. What does it mean to slow down, to listen, to pay attention and to be present to those around me? What does it mean to be present to my family, my neighbors, my community, my place, and the very ordinary mundane of my life? This journey to be faithfully present has proven to be both difficult and transformative. I experience a richness in my life that is worth its weight in gold. And this I am grieving.

I miss our neighborhood dinners. Jeff's friendly pat on the back with his, "How's it going?" Matt's hearty laugh and appetite. Masoud's cooking that always comes from the heart. Courtney's wine pouring technique sure to aerate the finest $6 bottle of wine. Fred's treats for dogs and kids alike. Juanita's homemade beans. Carolyn's Trader Joes treats. The sound of Genesis and Malachi playing in the background. Becky and Kathy, my 6am walking buddies, tired like me after a long day. I miss the gift of being present and in person with my neighbors.

I miss our sacred gatherings. Cooking in the kitchen with Jenni and her adorable dog Oliver. Greeting the community with hugs and warm welcome. Scriptures. Prayers. Songs sung in beautiful harmonies. Bill's thoughtful, unhurried reflections. Diane's kind and empathetic presence. David D.'s profound rambling poetic. April's refreshing honesty and exuberant smile. Jocelyn's bravery. Carrie's eloquence. Sharing the heartrending grief of what it means to be human. Sharing the heart-bursting dreams of what it means to be the church as we join in the work of love here in our small patch of earth.

These themes of grief and hope persist. We are currently in a Lenten season that none of us would have chosen. Confined to our living spaces, our only connection to the world is through our screens. We grieve a way of life now suddenly vanquished. The world has shifted beneath our feet. And so yes, grief and hope, death and life are very present on our minds. As we approach Holy Week, the “Stations of the Cross”, Good Friday and Easter now resonate with fresh meaning.

What does it mean to journey with Jesus in the grief, the disorientation, the confusion, and the immense hope of Holy Week?

Embedded in the stories that unveil Holy Week, Jesus says these words that eerily parallel what our world is currently experiencing. He, too, was lamenting a time when they would not be together. For the world was indeed heaving and rumbling with the birth of new creation and would never be the same.

“Behold the hour is coming, indeed it has come, when you will be scattered, each to his own home, and will leave me alone. Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” [John 16:32-33]

Jesus was speaking of the days to come when he would be abandoned by his disciples, distanced and isolated, and he leans into the presence of the Father knowing he is not actually alone. In fact, even death couldn't separate him from Divine Love. And so he encourages his followers, who have "self-isolated" and scattered into their own homes in fear and uncertainty saying, "Don't be afraid." For he knew the grief that they would be feeling. Jesus, in all of his humanity, profoundly felt it too. For the suffering of the cross was before him.

And yet he also knew the joy set before him. "...Jesus...who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." [Hebrews 12:2]

This is what Jesus speaks of when he says, "Take heart, I have overcome the world." Love wins. Death is not the end of the story. This is the greatest reversal the world has ever known. Easter means that we have been liberated from the oppression of fear and death. The evil powers of this age that ravage our world with sickness, violence, racism and greed have been dealt a final blow. And so even now, in the midst of a global pandemic full of disruption, disorientation, grief and loss, we are invited into the birth pains of new creation [Romans 8:18-28].

We are invited to grieve and to hope, to groan and to wait, to dream and to create.

So will you accept the invitation to journey with Jesus perhaps more intimately than ever before? As we move through Holy Week, in the absence of the presence of our communities, let us lean into the Presence of the One who is closer than our very breath. And let us enter fully into both the grief and the hope of our stories.

These themes of death and life, confusion and disruption resonate very closely in these times. And yet there is a place in our souls of deep peace, freedom and contentment that is untouched by any circumstance or hardship — it is a place of Divine Presence. Love. Connection. Communion.
​
As many of our rhythms are now being stripped away, I encourage you to lean into new practices of Presence. Take some time for solitude, silence and reflection. What comfort awaits us as we become more attuned to the Divine Presence who is acquainted with sorrow and suffering like no other? What beauty awaits us as we experience union with a humble, self-sacrificing Love that is more powerful than empire, evil or death? As we join in the birth pains of Holy Week in concert with a world collectively heaving and sighing, let us experience the transformative power of death and life, grief and hope, loss and redemption. This is holy work indeed.

by Jessica Ketola

by Kayla Craig, reposted from Red Letter Christians

Forgive us
As we have feared others,
And in doing so
Have contaminated our hearts.

Forgive us
As we have hoarded our resources,
And in doing so
Have abandoned our witness.

Forgive us
As we have desired control,
And in doing so
Have not loved our neighbor.

Comfort the afflicted among us.
In their loneliness, provide care.
In their sickness, provide health.
In their weariness, provide rest.

We grieve the contagious fear that we consume and spread.
Soothe our anxious minds as we read viral headlines.
And protect those who have been victims of racism and fear-mongering
Because of our dread of the unknown.

Protect us from the evil one
Who aims to use each update, not to inform or guide,
But to stoke the flames of chaos and confusion.

We thank you for health care workers
Who care for the sick and tend to bodies and souls
With great compassion and commitment.
Give them stamina.
Give them wisdom.
Give them grace.

We pray for those who lack access to health care,
Or safe places to rest their heads.
We pray for the vulnerable:
The sick,
The disabled,
The elderly,
The uninsured.
For the Kingdom is theirs.

We pray for the mother working paycheck to paycheck,
Who worries about her children and the job she can’t afford
To take time off from.
For she reflects Your image.

We pray for the chronically ill fighting invisible battles,
Hour by hour, day by day.
Nourish their bodies;
Protect their souls.
For they are never out of your sight.

We lament our roles in an empire
That values profit over human life
And takes advantage of our anxious spirits.
We acknowledge that we are not immune to the human condition,
And we repent from ways we have benefited
From dehumanizing systems and structures.

We ask for your Holy guidance
As we journey into the unknown.
Ignite in us a spirit of generosity;
Of hope and mercy;
Of grace and truth;
Of gentleness and self-control.

​Cleanse our spirits,
Comfort our minds,
Care for our bodies,
And make us new.

We give thanks that you lavish your grace onto us,
Not pushing us into shame, but providing a steadfast comfort.
When all else falls away, we turn to You and You alone.

We pray this in the name of Jesus
Who healed the sick
And sat with the poor.
Amen.

​In these times when the whole world is grieving and sighing, we need to sing songs and pray prayers to our Great Healer and Comforter. This is a song that's still in process but stays with me as I sleep and as I rise. Lord, have mercy.

As someone who is intentionally doing life with my neighbors, this global pandemic has shifted life in the neighborhood rather dramatically. Every week, we host two gatherings in our home: a midweek neighborhood dinner with about 20 of our neighbors and a dinner church gathering on Sunday evenings where we gather with followers of Jesus around a sacred meal, liturgy, prayers and communion. Now with gatherings banned to slow the spread of the novel virus, loving my neighbor has meant keeping distance. This has felt disruptive and counter-intuitive. And as I’ve been sequestered in my home battling my own cold symptoms, I’ve been forced to take a step back even further.

But in keeping with last week’s reading, like St. Ignatius, I have to believe that God is in all things and in these particular circumstances of my life. And so I’m asking the Spirit — how are you at work in my neighborhood? I’m listening. I’m discerning, and I’m paying attention. These are all postures that I practice in my neighborhood; and yet, now in the stillness of activity, they’re amplified in new ways. And here’s what I am noticing:

I’m noticing my neighbors who are stepping up, caring for others, and checking in with each other. Some have created a group on Facebook to care for one another – offering to bring groceries to those on quarantine, pitching in to pay looming bills for single moms, and just encouraging one another. It’s beautiful to see.

I’m noticing others leading in this time. In response to the closure of schools and our after-school tutoring program, the director of our nonprofit is pivoting to support families adversely affected in this time, many who are out of work and hard pressed to feed their families. I’m grateful for the fabric of love that has been woven here.

I’m noticing my neighbors who are missing. I’m grateful for the neighbors I do happen to know and for their contacts in my phone that make it easy to check in on them. But I find myself wondering about all the contacts I don’t have. I wonder how these neighbors are faring, how they’re affected, and if they need anything? And I’m praying that this crisis offers the opportunity for deeper and wider connections. How can those on the margins get pulled in?

I’m also grateful for sweet and unexpected moments of presence. Yesterday, my 23-year-old son and I spent a rare day together. We ate breakfast together. We took the dog for a hike together. We ate dinner together and even watched Little Women together! (Yeah, I know!) And as he prepares to move across the country for graduate school this fall, I’m grateful for this sacred gift that I will treasure. Sometimes the “other” that we are called to love and to attend to is right here under our noses.

So how is the Spirit at work in your neighborhood? Who is stepping up and offering their gifts? Who is leading? Who is needing? Who is missing? And what are the sacred gifts right under our noses? Like the good Samaritan, are we paying attention to the invitations of the Spirit? Will we allow ourselves to be disrupted from our daily routines, to take time to pause, and to be moved with compassion?

Father-in-Heaven,
Bless those to my left and right, those in front and behind.
Bend my mind and heart toward them in ways that please you.
Bring them to mind and nudge me to pray for them.
Help me notice your invitations to love, Holy Spirit.
Give me grace and courage to respond as you lead.
May my neighbors thrive in all the ways that matter to you, Lord. Amen.
​
See full liturgy here, posted on Sustainable Faith.

by Jessica Ketola

LIVING IN A TIME OF PANDEMIC
This is uncharted territory. None of us have had to figure out what life looks like in the midst of a worldwide pandemic. Anxiety is widespread - as we worry about the well being of our families and loved ones, our finances, our security, our sanity, and our world! So let us be gentle with ourselves and with each other. These are unprecedented times. Stressful times. There is much we have lost already and we don't know the full measure of the losses to come.

Students from wee-high to college-age are missing out on the power of in-person learning. Neighbors from all backgrounds, cultures and economics are missing out on the richness of community and the structures of support in their lives. Workers across so many industries are missing out on the crucial income they need to survive. Families are mourning the deaths of their loved ones. And those on the front lines— grocery clerks, social workers, health care workers and first responders, are missing the safety they once felt as they enter a war zone every day. There is much to grieve.

ALL THINGS HAVE THE ABILITY TO DRAW US INTO THE LOVE OF GOD
And yet as crazy as it sounds, all of this is the soil to grow in faith, hope and love.

Therefore, since we have been declared righteous by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. We have also obtained access through him by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. And not only that, but we also rejoice in our afflictions, because we know that affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope. This hope will not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. [Romans 5:1-5]

God's love remains true. Suffering, affliction and persecution are not new to the world or to Christians historically — and yet nothing, nothing can separate us from the love of God.

Who can separate us from the love of Christ? Can affliction or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? ...No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. [Romans 8:35-39]

Perfect love casts out fear. And so even in times of global pandemic, we can be conquerors of anxiety, greed, fear and loneliness. St. Ignatius' first principle states that “all the things in this world are . . . presented to us so that we can know God more easily and make a return of love more readily.” And so over the course of the next few weeks, we will be exploring what it means to find God in all things - here and now, in the midst of our own fears, worries and constraints. How can we move through what feels like a loss of freedom to find the expansiveness of interior freedom that comes as we grow in love and childlike trust with our Creator who knows us intimately, Christ who understands our suffering, and Spirit who is closer than our very breath.

JOINING IN GOD'S WORK OF LOVE IN OUR NEIGHBORHOOD
God loves and invites us to love God in return. Secondly, God loves and invites us to love our neighbors. We are invited to join with God in this work of love that is transforming and healing the world. And in a time of widespread anxiety and economic uncertainty, the call to love our neighbor is crucial, especially for the most vulnerable. As the COVID-19 pandemic affects the ways in which we gather as a church, it doesn't change the fact that we are the church. And we are perfectly poised to be the church in our neighborhood.

"The questions each member of a local church needs to ask are "How can our participation in a particular gathering grow our capacity to be a living expression of the church together in everyday life? How can it really help us to become a tangible witness of Christ's love, and to participate together in what God is doing in the place we live?" -The New Parish

I believe we have been faithfully asking this question and that we are called for such a time as this. I urge you to reach out to your neighbors in this time, especially those who may be sick, elderly, or disabled. I have seen so many great examples of how neighbors are offering to check in on one another and offering to run errands or get groceries for those who are quarantined: See Neighborhood Pods, Neighborhood Flyers, and Curing Our Moral Virus of Loneliness.

Today I conspired with Lynn Newcombe, the Director of Turning Point, our nonprofit that provides free tutoring to students who qualify for free and reduced lunches in the Shoreline School District. With the need for spatial distancing, our tutoring program has closed with the closure of school. However, our community and love for one another has not stopped. In fact, we are putting together a plan to continue to support our families who will be hard hit by this pandemic. Chromebooks, good fiction, and board games are being shared and given. Tutors are being recruited to offer remote assistance. And grocery gift cards will be given out to families now who are struggling to survive! And because of our relational equity over the years, we are able to uniquely bring our neighbors together! And each one of you can join in this work of love in the neighborhood! You can give here toward grocery cards for neighbors in need. (Just select -Lenten Generosity for Neighbors in Need-)

“In love, one always wants to give to the other what one has.” - St. Ignatius.

So what is our invitation to love? What does love compel us to do or to be? How do we show our love for God, for ourselves, for others, and for our neighborhoods?

SPATIAL DISTANCING, NOT SOCIAL DISTANCING
I'm not a fan of the trending phrase, social distancing - as if we are not already isolated, fragmented and lonely! Instead, I am using the term spatial distancing for we absolutely cannot afford to go it alone. And while love may dictate that we keep some spatial distance during this time, I encourage you to make sure you connect, check in, and care for one another!

Last week, we ended up making the decision to move our weekly in-person gathering online and we will continue to meet virtually through the end of March or as needed. It was really heart-warming to see everyone's faces and it was good to connect with one another in these challenging times. So I encourage you to join us this Sunday at 5pm for a Zoom Call. And we will explore these questions. How do we lean into the interior freedom of love and trust in these times? And what is the invitation to love our neighbor in really practical ways? How do we find Love in all things?


​by Jessica Ketola

As part of the Lenten season, every year as a community we consider the invitation to live a life of generosity. Historically, charity to our neighbor and the poor is a Lenten practice. And especially now in a time of pandemic with widespread anxiety and economic uncertainty , the call to love our neighbor is paramount. This is why as followers of Jesus, we are called to resist our selfish inclination to stockpile and instead choose to give generously! This is admittedly a challenge in light of rampant fear, empty shelves and long lines at our local Costco store.

This week, as the serious ramifications of the Coronavirus escalate in our city, I reached out to some of our friends at the City of Shoreline asking how we can help. We know that with the school closures, the burden on working families, especially at or below poverty, will be great. The big needs are food for families, childcare for working families, workers without sick leave, and supporting income loss for small businesses.

While many in our community are hoarding and stockpiling, we want to move in the opposite spirit of generosity. Heck, maybe we'll even give away toilet paper! And we are not alone! I have been overjoyed to see how many people in our community are stepping up to support small businesses, offer their skills and take care of neighbors in this time.

PRACTICE GENEROSITY
So through this Lenten season, we are asking you to be generous to your neighbors in need. Turning Point programs are also now closed and we will be collecting funds to continue to offer support to our families who will be adversely affected, many who find themselves out of work. We will be giving grocery cards to these families along with warm smiles, board games, and snacks. You can give a physical donation of a gift card or you can choose to give through our Tithe.ly app and select <Lenten Generosity to Neighbors in Need> and your funds will go towards our neighbors in need.

Now is also a wonderful opportunity to make a commitment to regularly give to The Practicing Church and to be a part of what God is doing in the neighborhood! You can invest in faithful presence here in our community and partner with what the Spirit is up to in us and around us. You can let us know you are participating by filling out our online form or a generosity card at our gathering.

We urge you to resist fear and greed and instead to commit to the radical generosity and sacrifice of love!

We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods [i.e. toilet paper] and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. [I John 3:16-18]

by Jessica Ketola

​

​USE THE TITHE.LY APP!
Giving just got easier. We know you don't carry cash and checks are becoming obsolete — so now you can give anytime, anywhere! You can make a donation on your phone or online! Live a life of generosity and invest in God's dream in the neighborhood!