How can we pray when we are grieving or angry? Because there is a lot to be grieved and angry about.
Jill and Kevin tag team "bring your anger to church" Sunday.
"He Was a Nutjob"
"He Was a Nutjob" (Good Friday)
Give 'Em Hell
Matthew 23
Kevin Makins
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2016.03.25 - Kevin Makins - Give 'Em Hell / Lent 2016
"He Was a Nutjob" (Good Friday)
Matthew 23
Every year we host a wake for Jesus where people dress in black, eat funeral food, and tell stories of the deceased. This year the wake was hosted by a Pharisee, who spoke some harsh words.
How to be Angry at Religious Insitutions, or, "Don't Woe Me If You Don't Know Me"
How to be Angry at Religious Insitutions, or, "Don't Woe Me If You Don't Know Me"
Give 'Em Hell
Matthew 23:1-14
Kevin Makins
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Ever been angry at bad religion? Ever felt like priorities in the church were misaligned or hypocritical? Ever wanted to protest and raise your voice about it?
Jesus shows us that our anger matters, and he shows us what to do with it.
Give 'em hell, Jesus!
The Shadow Side of Faith
2014.02.16 - Prayer 2014 - Leshia Knopf
Leshia Knopf shares an honest and reflective sermon on suffering, lament, trust, and being angry with God. Leshia is a part of the Eucharist Church “Preaching Guild”, a student of theology at McMaster Divinity College, and has spent the last few months driving her mother back and forth to her cancer appointments.
Suffice to say, this is not an intellectual exercise.
Leshia draws from the (little preached on) prophet Habakkuk to present a way of wrestling with God that is both faithful and raw.
Jeff Wynands also lead us in songs of lament, including a remixed version of Psalm 137.
The music starts at 32 minutes.
The lyrics to the song are below:
If I sing it wouldn’t mean a thing
If I dance it wouldn’t prove a chance
If I shout it wouldn’t lift the doubt
But I will if just to trust
We sit in endless sorrow at this river of defeat
We hang our songs in sadness on this tree of memory
Our joys are shapeless shadows these foreign city streets
We’ve fallen prey to mockers and their morbid mockeries
These hands surrender function and this heart it stutters beats
Were I to forget mount Zion my lips would surely seize
The wreck and rubble of a promise now dust upon our feet
We pray the same for the infant of these wretched godless deeds
If I sing it wouldn’t mean a thing
If I dance it wouldn’t prove a chance
If I shout it wouldn’t lift the doubt
But I will if just to trust…
Your will is enough oh God
Father this city’s cursed but you bless it with your name
Oh son this home is exile but you make it all the same