Kindred in Christ,

This Sunday, we’ll hear one of Jesus’ more startling parables—a story about a man who builds bigger and bigger barns to store up his wealth, only to discover he won’t live to enjoy any of it.

But this isn’t just a parable about money. It’s about how we live. It’s about the myth of self-sufficiency we’ve all been taught: that we must secure ourselves through more—more savings, more possessions, more control.

Jesus offers a different vision. In the Kin-dom of God, everything is gift. Grace is not a private possession. It’s not something we own—it’s something we receive with open hands and pass along freely.

This week, we’ll explore what it means to live in the kind of community where grace isn’t just a comforting word—it’s an economy. A different way of relating to one another and to the world.

Our early Methodist ancestors believed in this deeply. At the New Room in Bristol—the very first Methodist meeting space—the seats were intentionally movable. People would gather to hear the Word preached, then reconfigure the space to serve the poor. Worship and justice-making weren’t separate acts—they were woven together into a shared life of generosity.

Centuries earlier, Saint Basil described the same vision. He said:

“The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry. The coat unused in your closet belongs to the one who needs it.”

For the early church—and for us—this isn’t just about charity. It’s about seeing what we have not as our own, but as belonging to the whole body of Christ—everyone.

As both our congregations explore what it might mean to share life, ministry, and even possessions together, Jesus’ vision of an alternative economy offers both a challenge and an invitation—to imagine church not as a place of scarcity, but as a community of grace and mutual care.

We’ll begin Sunday with the beloved hymn “Great is Thy Faithfulness”—a song that reminds us that our lives are sustained not by what we store up, but by God’s daily mercies. When we trust in God’s provision, we’re freed to live open-handed, generous lives.

I hope you’ll join us this Sunday as we continue our summer series, Interwoven by Grace.
The sermon is titled Grace is Not a Private Good, drawing from Luke 12:13–21 and Colossians 3:1–11.

Come ready to reflect, to sing, to be challenged, and to find joy in the freedom grace brings.

Alongside you,

Rev. Paul Ortiz

Kindred in Christ,

As summer unfolds around us, I find myself filled with gratitude—for the journey we are on together, and for the ways both congregations have shown up week after week to worship, learn, and grow side by side. Each shared moment has been a thread in the tapestry of something new being woven among us. Thank you for your presence, your prayers, and your trust in this unfolding story.

This Sunday, I’ll be away, and our own Jeff Shamblin-Mullinix will be preaching and leading worship. Jeff brings deep wisdom, a kind spirit, and a gift for connecting scripture with everyday life. I’m grateful for his willingness to step into this role, and know you’ll be encouraged by what he shares.

The Gospel reading this week is from Luke 11, where the disciples come to Jesus and say, “Teach us to pray.” It’s a simple request, but such a human one. They didn’t ask for clarity or certainty or power—they asked for connection. Jesus responds, not with complicated theology, but with a pattern: ask, seek, knock. Trust that God is not distant or withholding, but generous and near.

In times of transition and discernment, prayer doesn’t always come easily. Sometimes our words feel jumbled or uncertain. But this passage reminds us: we don’t need perfect words to be heard. We are already known. Prayer is less about saying the right thing, and more about staying in relationship—with God, with one another, and with the grace that holds it all together.

I look forward to what lies ahead with you all. Let’s keep asking, seeking, and knocking—together.

Alongside you,

Rev. Paul Ortiz

“Saints Mary and Martha” by Ukrainian iconographer, Nadia Solomija

Kindred in Christ,

This Sunday, we continue our Interwoven by Grace series with a message titled “Beyond Sameness: Becoming a Community of Difference.”

The story of Mary and Martha in Luke 10 has often been misused—to pit spiritual contemplation against practical service, and worse, to dismiss the work of women, caregivers, and laborers as somehow less important than study, scholarship, or prayer. But when we slow down and really listen to the text, something much richer emerges.

You may know the story: Jesus comes to their home. Martha jumps into action—preparing the meal, caring for her guest, doing what needed to be done. Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, listening and learning. When Martha asks Jesus to make Mary help her, Jesus gently responds, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things… Mary has chosen the better part.”

Over time, some have interpreted this as Jesus choosing one sister over the other. But many feminist and womanist theologians have helped us hear it more faithfully. Jesus doesn’t rebuke Martha for working—he simply names her unnecessary worry and distraction. And Mary’s desire to learn from Jesus? That was a courageous choice in a world where theological conversation was often off-limits to women. Jesus affirms her full dignity as a disciple.

Interestingly, in traditional Christian iconography, we see a deeper understanding of this story. Mary is often depicted in a posture of contemplation or adoration. And Martha? She’s holding a loaf of bread or a chalice—symbols of service, hospitality, and Communion. Together, they reflect what the early Church knew: both women’s actions were holy. Listening and labor. Contemplation and action.

Rather than telling us to choose one over the other, this story invites us to hold the tension—and to honor the many ways people show up in faith. As our two congregations walk together in this season of discernment, this story offers us a timely reminder: being a community of grace doesn’t mean we all serve in the same way. It means we create space for difference and learn to trust each other’s gifts.

Whether you find yourself more like Martha or Mary—or maybe a bit of both—I hope you’ll join us this Sunday as we explore what it means to be a community of difference, woven together by love.

There’s a place for you at the table.

Alongside you,

Rev. Paul Ortiz

The Good Samaritan—mosaic by Fr. Marko Rupnik

Kindred in Christ,

This Sunday, we continue our summer series Woven by Grace as we reflect on what it means to be shaped into one community by God’s love.

Our theme this week is: “Who Is Our Neighbor?”
We’ll reflect on Jesus’ Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37)—a story many of us know, but few of us have truly wrestled with. It’s a story that invites us not only to show compassion, but first to recognize those who seem different from us as neighbors, equals, and people from whom we have something to receive.

The question, “Who is my neighbor?” isn’t just ancient—it’s still at the heart of many of our most pressing political debates. We see it today in the inhumane treatment of immigrants and refugees. Too often, we draw the lines of neighbor based on skin color, language, religion, or documentation status. But Jesus tells a story that disrupts those boundaries—before sending us out to serve, he first invites us to see differently.

We’ll also hear the Apostle Paul’s prayer to the ancient church in Colossae (Colossians 1:1-14), where he gives thanks for the love that connects the church to all the saints and prays that we would bear fruit through spiritual wisdom and compassionate action.*

As U Gathering and Green Lake UMC continue this season of shared worship and discernment, we are invited to consider how God is weaving us together—not just in structure, but in deep relationship and shared purpose.

Whether you are a longtime member, a newcomer, or somewhere in between, we hope you’ll join us as we seek to live into a more expansive vision of neighbor-love and grace.

Alongside you,

Rev. Paul Ortiz

*While some scholars believe Colossians may have been written by someone influenced by Paul rather than by Paul himself, others note strong continuity with his voice and theology.