PASTOR'S BLOG
Discovering Spiritual Truths & Celebrating God's Grace in the Every Day Happenings of Life.
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Between our early men’s Bible study and a funeral this morning, I have these words of Jesus on my mind: “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.” (Matt. 5:13–14)
Jesus tells His disciples that they are salt and light. He starts with the Gospel, simply by His decree He declares us to be Kingdom people. His children. He then commends them to go live accordingly. What does this mean? Without taking a deep dive, salt and light have something important in common: they are to make a difference where they are placed. Moreso, they are meant to make whatever they come into contact with better. Salt brings out flavor and helps preserve what is good. Light pushes back darkness and helps us see clearly. Neither exists merely for itself. They exist to have an impact. Jesus says that His followers are to be like salt and light. Through our words, actions, kindness, and service, God uses us to bring His goodness into the lives of others. Sometimes that means encouraging someone who is discouraged. Sometimes it means helping someone in need. Sometimes it simply means being willing to listen. We don’t need to do extraordinary things to have impactful and winsome lives. It could be as simple as a kind word, a helping hand, or an encouraging note. Of course, our good “salt” and “light” works do not save us. Christ alone does that through His death and resurrection. But our good works do reflect the faith we have in Jesus. Because He has saved us, we are free to serve others—to make better the lives of whomever we come into contact with. The call here isn't to draw attention to ourselves, but so that people "see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven." (5:16) God places us in this world to make it a better place and to invite others into a life with Him. Look for the opportunities. Be salt. Be light. Be a blessing. And let your good works point others to Jesus. “God does not need your good works, but your neighbor does.” (Martin Luther) “Be generous, and you will be prosperous. Help others, and you will be helped.” (Proverbs 11:25 GWT)
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This past weekend, I attended our NJ District’s LWML Convention. I’ve been able to serve as their pastoral counselor/advisor for the past four years. The LWML is a wonderful women’s group in our church body. For 84 years women across our church have dedicated themselves to supporting the mission of the church and serving those in need. Faithful Christian women that come together in genuine friendship, humility, and Christian love. They raise money, bring awareness, serve locally, worship together, and so much more! They really do so many great things! My hope, at some point, is that we can have a group like this again here at King of Kings. The theme of their convention last weekend was based on Psalm 46:10, “Be still, and know that I am God.”
Be still. We’ve heard this before. But it’s easier said than done. Our world rarely encourages stillness. Especially this time of the year when we are both trying to squeeze the last few days out of summer while also preparing for another school year. There is always another task, another worry, another notification demanding our attention. We live loud lives—phones buzzing, deadlines pressing, worries multiplying. God's command here isn't a suggestion for the overwhelmed; it's a call for everyone. Be still. Spend some time, undistracted, in the presence of God. Prayer. Bible Reading. Meditation. This stillness isn't passive resignation—it's active trust. Faith clings to God's promises even when circumstances scream otherwise. Being still does not mean that our problems disappear. It means we stop pretending that we must solve everything ourselves. The Lord remains God even when life feels chaotic. He is our refuge and strength, our ever-present help in trouble. Look at the overall context of Psalm 46; it was written amid chaos, nations raging, mountains shaking. In a world of instability, God is the steady and reliable. His word reminds us, “I am still God.” Today, let your hands loosen their grip. Pause and breathe. Lay your burdens before Him. Trust His promises. Be still—and remember that your faithful God is still in control. This morning, in our men’s Bible study, we discussed the privilege (and challenge) of being “salt” and “light” in this world. Jesus expects His followers to be difference makers. This is not relegated to just acts of service, but also to boldly sharing what we believe. “But in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.” (1 Peter 3:15) God wants us to be out there engaging a world that is often stuck in darkness—bringing the hope of Jesus to a hopeless world.
As our final two weeks of summer end, we will soon find ourselves settling back into the familiar rhythms and routines that the school year brings. This could be a perfect time to extend an invitation to someone. Fall is not only the ideal season for pumpkin spice lattes, but also an opportune time to invite someone into the life of our church. In John 1:46, when Nathanael doubted that anything good could come from Nazareth, Philip didn't argue or over-explain. He simply said, "Come and see." That's the heart of invitation—not pressure, not a perfect pitch, just an open door. When it comes to sharing our faith, we often psyche ourselves out. We let the lies of the Devil get the best of us. The reality is that you don't need the right words or a five-step evangelism plan. You don’t need to quote chapter and verse of all sorts of Bible passages. You just need to be willing to say, "Come with me." As the new school year approaches, think of a neighbor, coworker, or friend who's been on your heart. Fall brings fresh starts — new schedules, new routines, new openness to try something new. Who is God putting in your path this season? Invite them. Let Him do the rest. Found some fantastic quotes about this. I could not just pick a couple! Check them out… 😉
Nearly time to start packing my bags! We leave for Guatemala in less than 48 hours. In five days, our goal is to build two new homes for impoverish families. It will be a new, unique experience in a new and foreign land (for me) to serve others; and undoubtedly gain a greater appreciation for the many blessings we have here in our country. I look forward to sharing this experience with my son, and 10 others from our congregation.
Please keep us in your prayers! However, one needs not travel far to do this sort of “mission” work. At my previous church, we had a sign at the exit of the parking lot that read: You Are NOW Entering the Mission Field. Catchy, isn’t it? It is meant to catch you on your way out of church, not your way in. A less-than-subtle reminder. The idea is simple but easy to forget: the mission field isn't a place you fly to. It's the parking lot. It’s the home you pass. It’s the diner you eat at afterwards. It’s the grocery store. It's your kitchen table. It's the cubicle next to yours… I’m sure you get the point. Our mission field is much closer than we often think. They are in the present places we already find ourselves spending most of our time—where we live, work, and play. We tend to picture missionaries with passports and prayer cards, serving in places far from home. And Scripture certainly sends people that way— the Apostle Paul crossed seas, walked mountain roads, endured shipwreck to carry the Gospel to strangers. That call is real and honorable. But it isn't the only call, and for most of us, it isn't our call. This is worth sitting with, because it can be tempting (and perhaps a bit too comfortable and convenient) to treat "real" ministry or “mission” work as something that happens elsewhere or by other people—on a mission trip, in a foreign country, among people who look and speak differently than we do. That kind of service matters. But it can also become a way of quietly excusing ourselves from the mission field we're standing in. Every. Single. Day. Every Christian, by virtue of our baptism and relationship with Jesus, is a missionary. No matter where we live. No matter what our professional vocation. No matter how polished or equipped we think we are. We are all called to actively and intentionally winsome for the sake of the Gospel—sharing the love and salvation found in Jesus. This quote (source unknown) comes to mind, “We are not called to save the world; we are called to be faithful in the place God has put us." The coworker who never mentions God but is clearly carrying something heavy. The young adult child who is still trying to figure out what they believe in a world of mixed messages. The neighbor who's lived beside you for years and whom you've never really talked to. The relative who stopped going to church and never says why. The list goes on… You don't need a passport for that mission field. You need simply to be present. Be attentive. Be patient. Pray for a bold willingness to show up in small, ordinary ways like a meal, a phone call, an honest conversation, a listening ear. Jesus did not just wait for people to come to Him. He met them where they were at. Jesus did not meet people exclusively in temples and synagogues. He met them at wells, on roadsides, in fishing boats, at dinner tables. The mission field has always been wherever people already are; and you’re in it! "Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love." (Mother Teresa) “The mission of the Church is not to occupy space, but to occupy the neighborhood." (unknown) During the last month of our recent discernment and call process, several pastors encouraged me by reminding me of the importance of my different vocations. Or to put it another way, understanding rightly the order of my callings from God.
All are important; but not necessarily equal. Wise colleagues reminded me that my first calling is that of husband, and then a father, and then (thirdly) a pastor. I needed to hear that. This order is important, but it is often ignored. This is true for all of us. It does not only apply to pastors trying to discern where to serve. We overlook, neglect, or take for granted the needs of those most intimately aligned to us. Time for a self-inventory and probably course correction. We each have our own, unique professional vocations, whatever they may be. God has carefully crafted each of us with special talents and abilities, crafting us to serve the world around us in a variety of capacities. Different jobs. All are important and, when done to the glory of God (cf. 1 Cor. 10:31), all are God-pleasing. But before any title or task the world assigns us, we have a prior calling: the people God has placed under our care. After our relationship with Him, nothing outranks our duty to spouse, children, and grandchildren. This order is easy to affirm, yet also easy to neglect. Not intentionally of course. We are quickly enticed by professional ventures, leisurely activities, and other good things. Ambition, urgency, and the applause of accomplishment can quietly reorder/pollute our priorities. But faithfulness isn't measured by how well we perform in public roles, especially if we've abandoned our first ones at home. Our Lutheran tradition is big on this. The home is holy ground. Family needs are important. Serving your household is paramount. Yes, we all have God-given tasks or jobs in which we serve the world; but the most sacred and holy callings we have are in the relationships we have with those around us. After all, for me specifically, anyone can be the pastor at this church or any other. But no other person has been given the privilege and responsibility of being a husband to my wife and a father to my children. This is true for every one of us. Today, consider your own order. Whatever your calling (occupation), ask: are those closest to you receiving the "first" of your time and care—or merely the leftovers? "Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it." (Ephesians 5:25) “But those who won’t care for their relatives, especially those in their own household, have denied the true faith. Such people are worse than unbelievers.” (1 Timothy 5:8 NLT) When was the last time you had a tough decision to make? What college to attend. Seeking a new job. Starting a family. Moving cross country. In life, we frequently stand between two things, trying to discern the will of God, wishing for a divinely detailed roadmap. Deciphering between the path on the left or the path on the right. What door do we close and what door do we go through? In gut-wrenching moments like these, it is natural to wonder, "Which one is God's will for me?"
We want God to tip His hand—a dramatic sign, a peace that feels obvious, some unmistakable answer that one door is "His will" and the other isn't. We pray for a Jonah-like moment—an undeniable sign from God that swallows us whole and spits us up just where we are to be. But God rarely works that way. Abraham is a powerful Old Testament example of trusting God when the future is unclear. In Genesis 12:1-4, God told Abraham: "Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you." God did not hand Abraham a full map. He didn’t give details. He did not explain every hardship, delay, or blessing ahead. Abraham simply received God’s promise and stepped forward in faith. Discernment, for him, looked like faithful obedience, not certainty in advance. Proverbs 16:9 says, "The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps." We plan, but God establishes. That's not permission to be careless—wisdom, counsel, and prayer matter. But it does free us from the paralysis of needing a perfect answer before we can move. Pray for wisdom (James 1:5), seek counsel from trusted Christians (Prov. 15:22), honestly weigh the responsibilities and opportunities before you, and then move forward in faith rather than fear. After all, the Lord already reveals His deepest will for you: that you belong to Him through faith in Jesus (John 6:40), that you grow in holiness (1 Thess. 4:3), give thanks in every circumstance (1 Thess. 5:16-18), and love God and your neighbor (Mt. 22:37-39). Specific details of your future may remain hidden, but God's promises never are. From simple decisions to major ones, research suggests that that an average person will make over 30,000 choices each day. Yikes! Whatever lies ahead for your future, trust the One who establishes your steps. Discernment is less about decoding a hidden script, and more about walking close enough to God to know that even our unknown-to-us decisions are held in His omnipotent hands. The will of God is less a puzzle to solve and more a relationship to walk in. No matter the tension you are in or the decision you face, do not fret. The Lord who saves you is also the Lord who goes with you. Whichever path you take, His grace is sufficient, and His faithfulness will not fail. “Yielding to God's will can be hard. And sometimes, it really hurts. But it always brings peace.” (J.M. Perkins) “The will of God will not take us where the grace of God cannot sustain us.” (Billy Graham) “I will not try to run my own life or the lives of others; that is God's business.” (Eugene Peterson) What do you do when the bottom drops out? When life as you know it stops? There are moments when life gives way beneath your feet—plans unravel, diagnosis are given, loved ones are in crisis, jobs are lost. Everything that you once thought was steady and secure, suddenly slides you off your axis. As a pastor, it is a humbling privilege to be invited into some of these moments for members of our church. Within the past two weeks, I have conversed with several people who are experiencing “bottom drops out” moments of their lives.
They’re really going through it. And, I know, that nearly all of us are also going through something right now; even if we do keep it pretty well hidden from most of the world. The brokenness of this world makes itself known in our lives. We lose something or someone that was once so reliable. Abruptly, we are thrown for a loop. We are tossed and turned, desperately grasping for something solid. It’s in those moments, when the bottom drops out, that we need to adapt. But how? "I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, the Maker of heaven and earth." (Psalm 121:1-2) The promises of God found in scripture can sustain us. They will. Don’t get me wrong, it is not easy to trade our worry and fear in for peace and faith. Doubt and despair still try to creep in. Being human is not for wimps! But there are so many words in where God’s quiet, steady promise speaks most clearly: You are not falling alone. Scripture reminds us, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble” (Psalm 46:1). Not a distant help. Not an occasional help. Ever-present. Even when everything else feels unstable, He remains unshaken. Think of Peter stepping out onto the water. The moment he focused on the wind and waves, he began to sink—but Jesus was already reaching out His hand. The same is true for you. The chaos may be real, the uncertainty heavy, but Christ is closer still. God doesn’t promise a life where the ground never trembles, or the bottom never falls out. But He does promise that when it does, His grip holds firm. His grace is deeper than your lowest moment, and His faithfulness stretches farther than your worst fear. “I waited patiently for the Lord; He inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.” (Psalms 40:1-3) A very noticeable thing happened a couple of weeks ago in worship. Three people walked out of the church... Sunday morning, mid-service.
Just got up and left. They weren’t even sneaky about it. Worship continued, but they weren’t there. Actually… it was right in the middle of my sermon. Can you believe that? The audacity! The exact details have faded slightly, but no doubt I was midsentence inspiring all the pew-sitters that morning. Nevertheless, they got right up and walked right out of the sanctuary. No matter how much of a homiletical masterpiece I was delivering, they left. Departed. Gone. Hit the proverbial road. And I loved it! Still makes me smile every time I think about it. Kudos ladies. I hope they do it again! Here’s what I noticed… At one point, in the middle of my rousing sermon I looked up and saw three moms, just outside the sanctuary, on the narthex floor. Backs toward me, engaged in conversation with each other. With each mom was an ankle-biter. Technically, I guess that means that six people walked out of the church, mid-service. Even better! I could not tell you who it was or how long they were out there. They may have been members. They could have been visitors here for the first time. Honestly, I have no idea. But I do remember seeing them. I remember thinking, “How cool is that?!” And I remember sending up a quick post-sermon prayer thanking God for their presence. In all my years of pastoring, when kids are fussy or babies are crying in church, I hardly even notice. I wouldn’t call it oblivious; it sounds better to say that I’m in my preaching zone. But even if I did. They are not a distraction. They are not a disruption. They certainly do not need to be removed. They are a beautiful blessing, a welcome reminder of how important it is to be a church filled with people of all ages—young babies and seasoned veterans. Of course, the mortified parents feel a bit differently; they are embarrassed and panic. They bombard their little ones with goldfish crackers and squeezy applesauce, anything to get them to sit still and keep them quiet! Tired moms and dads faithfully doing the right thing even when it’s not so easy. Flustered as they may have been, how reassuring then for those moms a couple weeks back to walk out into the narthex and immediately see that they were not alone. Many of us have been here before—children fussy and bouncing with energy at church, in a movie theater, at a concert, in a restaurant. It is likely that anytime kids “act up” in church their anxious parents feel as if the eyes of everyone in the church are shooting daggers at them, silently rebuking them to keep their kids under control. Not me. Not here. Not ever. Hopefully not you either. I’ll look at them, smile, and silently thank God they are here. It would be so much easier for parents of little kids to stay home. Less stressful. More relaxing. Stay in the jammies. Turn on Mickey Mouse. Enjoy another cup of coffee. No fuss, no crying, no tantrums. It has been many years since our kids were that small, but I remember Calie telling me that she wasn’t sure she heard a single sermon for at least the first six years of our kids’ lives while in their toddler stages. (She may not listen to my sermons now either, but she can’t blame the kids anymore. 😊) Perhaps it would be easier for all of us to bail on worship. But God is pleased when we gather—not because everything runs smoothly, not because every child sits quietly, and not because every parent feels put together… but because His people come. We come with noise and need, with distractions and fatigue, with crying babies and wandering minds—and still, our gracious God meets us there. He graces us. He restores us. He blesses us. The sound of little ones in the sanctuary is the sound of life, of our Christian faith being carried forward. Little ones in the pews remind us that our church—by the working of the Holy Spirit—is not fading but flourishing. Not every church is so fortunate. A quiet church is often a church without growth. This old proverb, of which there is no known author, is true: “If You Don't Hear Crying, the Church is Dying.” I recall reading a similar quote, that said “The noise of children is the sound of the next generation worshiping.” So dear friends, please join me in rejoicing over every holy interruption and embracing every holy cry. Celebrate the screams. Embrace the tantrums. Delight in the occasional distractions. Smile and make silly faces at the little ankle-biters among us. Encourage the parents, no matter how old their kids are. Let’s welcome it. Let’s give thanks for it. For our God is indeed “giving the growth!” Oh, one last thing… this does NOT give you all permission to get up and walk out of church mid-sermon this coming Sunday! But Jesus said, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children.” (Matthew 19:14 NLT) “Therefore we must have young people in the church, for the church must continue to exist.” (Martin Luther) Happy (Day-After) Tax Day! You know what they say? “There are only two certainties in life—taxes and death.” How true that is, and fortunately neither one of those things need cause us great concern or worry. In that vein, I’m recycling this devotional thought from several years ago. Easter reminds us, we’ve got a guy for that! 😊
Hopefully, you got all your taxes taken care of for yesterday's deadline. No doubt you are now anxiously awaiting your bountiful refund check from our beloved national treasury. We’ve all seen the H&R Block commercials suggesting that we can “get our billions back!” Needless to say, I’m still looking for mine! For many people, tax season is stressful and burdensome. Not at all for me. During the months of January and February, I gathered up all my necessary documents and financial information so that I could send it off to my tax guy. It is so nice to have someone else take care of it. There are nuances of self-employment and clergy allowance that I don’t pretend to understand. Every year, laws and requirements change a bit. It is an immense relief to not have to worry about any of it. No headaches crunching numbers. No anxiety trying to reconcile the final amounts. No need for me to invest in the newest TurboTax software. It is a wonderful, burdenless feeling to put the papers in the mail and then not have to fuss about it. No stress at all. My tax guy will work through the mess, comb over the details, and make sure all my files are in order. He’ll make sure the government gets its due. He’ll make sure I don’t land in jail or get flagged by the IRS. To be sure, I do have to pay for the services of my tax guy. But it is worth it. It is a tolerable investment to have a capable, reliable guy take care of things that I can’t do myself. Can you sense where I’m going with this? Today, as we stand in the afterglow of Easter. The energy and excitement of Easter Sunday may have dissipated a bit as we quickly had to get back into a normal work week routine. Our “He is risen indeed!” choruses have faded somewhat as we find ourselves in between Sundays. Now we gear up for the home stretch of the school year, spring planting, and other outdoor activities. We start thinking about summer vacations, fishing trips, and full days at home with the kids or grandkids. Yet we dare not so quickly or easily close the book on Easter; Easter has a lasting impact. The joy and celebration, the good news and victory of Easter still rings loud in our worship and in our lives. Like taxes, we are all forced to face the reality of death. We’ve dealt with it personally and we see it constantly on the news. Easter reminds us that death does not win, because we have “a guy” that takes care of it for us! That’s the Easter message—because Jesus conquers death, so do we! Sin, death, evil—it is so nice to have someone else take care of it. No need to worry. No further work or effort needed from us. We don’t even have to pay for His services. Our guy, our Lord Jesus, makes sure all our spiritual affairs are in order—free of charge! He has covered the bill Himself, written in His own blood. We no longer need to fret over what may happen to us; Jesus assures us that He is always with us. He offers us a hope that can stare death in the eye and proclaim, “Oh death where is your sting!” Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (1 Cor. 15:57) Throughout our time upon this earth, we have “a guy” who takes care of us. 1 Peter 5:6-7 says, “Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.” Thank you, Jesus, for taking care of us. We stand secure knowing that the inevitable and guaranteed certainties of life are already dealt with. They are handled. No need to worry. Nothing more to do on our part. My tax guy has my taxes done. My death & sin Guy has the rest under control. Time to relax and enjoy the spring weather. He is risen indeed! Alleluia! “A dead Christ I must do everything for; a living Christ does everything for me." (Andrew Murray) Blessed Easter week to you all. Christ is still risen!
Did you notice the grammatical nuance of what we say at Easter? Christ is risen! We use the present tense. Not “Christ has risen” or “Christ was risen.” We use the present tense because this is still our current reality. Christ is risen! Here. Now. In this very moment. That might not seem like a big deal, just semantics and wordplay. But a comforting truth lies within. The events of that first Easter is not just a past event we remember, but a present reality we still live in now. It isn't just a historic event to celebrate once a year; it is our ever-present reality. Because Jesus conquered the grave, He is not merely a distant, historical figure, but a living Savior who is actively present in the ordinary moments of your life right now. His Great Commission promise still reverberates today, "Lo I am with you always, even to the end of the ages." Because He lives, our hope is not fragile and our joy is not temporary. Even, or especially, in uncertainty, Christ’s presence anchors us. He is still at work for us! When fear, doubt, or grief settles into your day like heavy weather, the resurrection declares that love has outlasted hatred and life has outrun death. He is the “first fruits,” meaning His resurrection power is available to you today to overcome obstacles, calm fears, and wipe away tears. Let the truth of the empty tomb shape your confidence. Let the enthusiastic cries that filled our church this past Sunday still be on your lips. The Risen Christ walks with you here and now—in the tension, in the questions, in the chaos and unrest, and in the quiet spaces. Jesus is near, personal, and constant. With you. Always. Live today with the unwavering assurance that because He lives, you are never alone. He is your ever-present help and your living hope! |
AuthorPastor Steve Vera Categories |