Jan 11, 2026 Sharing Lit Candles Past and Present Through A Wedding at Cana and A Vigil in Minneapolis

The Minnesota Immigrant Rights Action Committee Vigil 
near the for Renee Nicole Good Jan. 7, 2026.

“Truth has stumbled in the public square, and uprightness cannot enter.”  Isaiah 59:14

This week, a clarion call was heard for empathy and morality. Our scripture offered us a vision that stands in painful contrast to the world many of us currently inhabit. Another shocking moment, reminiscent of George Floyd's, moved our nation.

Both grief and hope are accumulating faster than we can metabolize them..When the steward remarks, “You have kept the good wine until now,” during the wedding at Cana, he names a reversal. In God’s economy, the best is not hoarded by the powerful or consumed early and wasted. It emerges precisely when a community is on the brink of embarrassment and loss. Glory, in this story, is not domination or self-display. It is relational abundance. Shame is spared. Joy is restored. The celebration continues. 

That vision stands in painful contrast to the world many of us are inhabiting now. 

Many of us are still reeling from the murder of Renee Nicole Good, a life taken by a federal ICE agent, followed not by humility or accountability from national leaders, but by a manufactured narrative designed to justify the unjustifiable. Within hours, she was labeled a terrorist, despite video evidence that clearly contradicts those claims. Truth did not matter. Control of the story did. The opportunity to spread intimidation is taken. We're shown the bloody airbag. Don't try to protest or resist; otherwise...

Before that grief could even settle, more blood was spilled. In our own East Portland neighborhood, two additional people were shot by federal agents during an immigration enforcement operation. Once again, officials claimed necessity. Once again, communities were left stunned and terrified. Governor Tina Kotek named what many feel in our bodies: the federal government is causing chaos in our cities and shattering trust across the nation.

Power rarely admits its own violence. It re-frames it. It renames the dead. It insists the victim deserved what happened. James Baldwin warned, “It is not permissible that the authors of devastation should also be innocent.” And yet innocence is precisely what this administration claims, through repetition, spectacle, fear, and declarations of absolute immunity. When the state kills and then lies about why, it asks the public to participate in unreality. That demand is itself a form of violence. In such moments, lament becomes refuge for the sane.

In the Hebrew scriptures, lament erupts most fiercely when truth is under assault. The psalmists cry out not only against suffering, but against falsehood. The prophets rage when injustice is paired with deception. “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil,” Isaiah says, not as poetry, but as a diagnosis.

This moment carries many layers of sorrow: the killing of innocent people; the terrorizing of immigrants; the erosion of law and accountability; the steady drumbeat of a masculinity that confuses domination with strength and cruelty with order. These are not separate events. They are expressions of the same moral corruption, the replacement of truth with power and care with control.

Grief, in this context, is discernment. As Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, indifference to evil is more insidious than evil itself. Lament is the refusal of indifference. It is what keeps conscience awake when institutions fall asleep. It is what keeps us human when lies attempt to numb us.

Anger, too, is warranted. Rage rises when accountability is mocked, and victims are erased, something our African American and Native American siblings know all too well. But lament gives rage a different shape. It slows it. Grounds it. Keeps it from becoming what it opposes. Lament says: This mattered. This life mattered. Truth matters.

Faith traditions do not rush toward closure. They let lament linger. They understand that before repair comes truth-telling, and before truth-telling comes the guttural cry: How long, O Lord?

So let us say plainly: calling Renee Nicole Good a terrorist does not make it so. Repeating a lie does not transform it into justice. Defending violence with propaganda deepens the wound it claims to heal.

Cana reminds us that the common good is not secured by control, scarcity, or performance. It is discovered when we notice one another’s needs, submit ourselves to shared practices, act together, and trust that God’s abundance is meant not for isolated selves, but for all of us, together.

We are allowed to cry.
We are allowed to rage.
We are allowed to say this is wrong, without qualification.

And we are allowed to keep believing in the long, unfinished work of goodness and justice, not because outcomes are guaranteed, but because surrendering to lies would cost us our souls.

Be kind to your tender hearts. Let them grieve. Let them tell the truth. And then, together, we return to the slow, necessary work of building a more just and generous world.

Bishop Curry Issues Statement on ICE Shooting in Minneapolis 

Sermon from a Sister ELCA congregation in Minneapolis 

Reflection on Creator's 1/11 Worship 

Today I stood inside a sanctuary filled with song, liturgy, memory, and the gift of generations, all supporting this worship through service. So many moments in the service were profound 

Wednesday's Scripture Reflection

Sermon 

Pastor Emillie's sermon was heartfelt. She preached how John writes of signs rather than miracles. Jesus began his ministry in a public celebration of joy. He blessed it with an abundance of the best wine. She helped the congregation understand this was the beginning sign of a ministry that would end on the cross. She also lamented the present temptation to let our hearts grow numb. We offered thoughts and prayers for Renee Good. This was something no one from this administration did. We did not allow the death of Renee Good to become background noise by asking, "Really, what business is it of mine?" We acknowledged and understood the poet, wife, and mother who has been taken away from us, and responded. It matters. 

Kelly Carlisle, a former Creator Music Minister, played piano to our appreciative congregation. Old memories were shared, voices blended singing familiar music about light and Christ. The Gathering Song, in fact, was "Christ, Be Our Light" and the selected Sending Song was "This Little Light of Mine", His performance was, at times poignant, at other joyous. When Kelly played "All That I Have" the congregation sang with a special and familiar reverence.

Creator hosted a MIGRA training after worship, with Storyline facilitating. We learned more about what is going on in our community and how to respond to ICE actions. This training was open to all and felt particularly relevant to what happened this week.

We're in this together. 

Jan 11, 2026 Reflection on the Wedding at Cana and Acting for the Common Good

 “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of hosts.” Zechariah 4:6

We often read the wedding at Cana as a story about abundance or transformation, which is what it is, but in a careful reading today, it also appears as a quiet, radical reflection on the common good: how human joy, communal responsibility, and divine generosity are woven together.

This common good has me thinking about the philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre, who spent his life naming a problem many of us feel but struggle to articulate: that modern moral life is deeply disordered. We argue endlessly about justice, freedom, rights, and responsibility, yet our arguments rarely persuade or heal. In After Virtue, MacIntyre suggests why. Our moral language is made up of fragments, words lifted from older moral traditions but detached from any shared understanding of what human life is for. We still talk about “values,” but we no longer agree on the kind of people we are meant to become.

MacIntyre called this condition emotivism: a culture in which moral claims are reduced to expressions of preference, power, or feeling: I want, I feel, I have leverage. In such a world, moral debate becomes performance rather than formation. Institutions are no longer places that shape character; they are stages upon which selves display themselves.

This is why "current" figures like Donald Trump do not appear as moral aberrations but as an exaggerated embodiment of modern assumptions. Trump speaks the languages our culture understands fluently: acquisition, dominance, and self-assertion. He does not seek to be formed by the roles he inhabits, even the presidency, but treats them as personal property. As MacIntyre famously warned, “The barbarians are not waiting beyond the frontiers; they have already been governing us for quite some time.” The deeper tragedy is not simply who governs, but our loss of the moral vocabulary needed to recognize character when we see it.

Recovering from this moral malaise requires more than replacing one leader with another. It requires restoring a shared grammar of the good, learning again how to distinguish a person of character from a person of mere success, and a community of shared purpose from a collection of competing selves. That kind of recovery is slow work. It involves education not only of the mind, but of the heart and will. It asks us, as MacIntyre insisted, to sacrifice some autonomy for the sake of belonging to practices and communities that can actually make us good. The church has played a part in this consciousness and may play more in the future, but as Pastor Steve preached, Christians may need to "walk their talk". 

The story of the Wedding at Cana begins not with preaching or command, but with a community celebration. A wedding in first-century Galilee was not a private affair; it was a public, multi-day event that united an entire village. To run out of wine was not merely inconvenient; it threatened communal shame. Joy here is not individual or optional; it is shared, fragile, and socially held.

Mary is the first to notice: “They have no wine.” Her words are not a demand or a strategy. They are an act of moral perception. She sees that the community’s shared joy and dignity is at risk. This is where the common good begins: not in policy, power, or spectacle, but in attention. Someone notices when joy is running out.

Jesus hesitates. “My hour has not yet come.” He resists being drawn into performance or premature revelation. Yet he acts anyway, not because the moment is ideal, but because the need is communal. The common good often calls us to act before conditions are perfect, before we are fully “ready,” because the stakes are relational.

The miracle itself is revealing for what it does not do. Jesus does not create wine for himself, for his disciples alone, or even explicitly “for the poor.” He creates it for a celebration already underway. The common good, John suggests, is not only about survival or efficiency; it is about shared flourishing. Joy, beauty, and festivity belong to communal life.

The abundance is extravagant, six stone jars filled to the brim. This is not a rationed charity. Yet the miracle flows through human cooperation. Servants fill the jars, carry the water, and present the wine. Divine generosity does not bypass human participation; it deepens it. Virtue, in MacIntyre’s sense, is learned not through isolated choice but through shared practices ordered toward a common end.

When the steward remarks, “You have kept the good wine until now,” he names a reversal of expectation. In God’s economy, the best is not hoarded by the powerful or consumed early and wasted. It emerges precisely when a community is on the brink of embarrassment and loss. The common good is not secured by scarcity or control, but by trust that shared life can be renewed.

John tells us this was the first of Jesus’ signs, revealing his glory. But the glory revealed is not domination or self-display. It is relational abundance. A community is spared shame. Joy is restored. The celebration continues.

In a world shaped by emotivism, competition, and fear of running out, Cana offers a different moral vision, one that MacIntyre would recognize as thick with purpose. The common good is not something we protect by withholding or performing. It is something we discover when we notice one another’s needs, submit ourselves to shared practices, act together, and trust that God’s abundance is meant not for isolated selves, but for all of us, together.

January 19, 2025 - Second Sunday after Epiphany - A Cup of Water Compared to the Ocean

This week's Gospel describes the "miracle" at the wedding at Cana of Galilee. Pastor Emillie's sermon preached on, and found inspiration in, the faith that led to Mary come to Jesus rather than anyone in charge of the wedding to inform him that the wine has run out. And, after she hears his response, to say to the servants at the wedding, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Jesus' initial  response would appear to have shown an indifference to or, perhaps, a potential disagreement on whether to act on what she was implicitly asking to be done. And so this became an example of taking everything to God in prayer, no matter how trivial it might initially appear.

Mary shows a trust and confidence that Jesus will always do what is right and what is possible for him to do. When something is brought to God, whatever happens will be in accordance to God's will. Even when the journey to the Promised Land should actually have taken a shorter amount of time, the forty years of wandering is what God willed. This requires a belief that God will not simply say no to a prayer, but whatever happens is the response God intends to give.  This also requires patience to understand that response. A cup of water, added or taken away when compared to the ocean, will not have an immediate or noticeable effect

I see the beauty of perceiving Mary's faith this way and there other meaningful ways to interpret the wedding at Cana. This account, unique to the book of John, never calls the water turning into wine a "miracle". Rather it is the first of Jesus’ seven "signs" that reveal Jesus' glory. True, water turning into wine is something extraordinary, but the "signs" point to a truer revelation about Jesus. Revelation for revelation’s sake is not the point but what deeper reality is revealed? What are we supposed to "see"?

Particular details as provided in John Chapter 2 are initially hard to understand. They are presented the way Jesus' conversations with Nicodemus or the woman at the well are told. Jesus and his mother barely respond to each other. Actually this exchange between them is really quite funny and we do ourselves no favors when thinking the Bible is devoid of humor. 

At first she notes that they have run out of wine. Jesus’ response is, basically, on its face, that they should have hired a better wedding planner when he responds with “Woman, what concern is that to me and to you? My hour has not yet come." Not answering him directly, she says to the servants at the wedding, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Here the mother of Jesus is like a mother of a schoolboy, encouraging her child to get on the school bus for the first time: “Come on, you can do it! I know you can!” The Chosen episode that dramatizes this wedding by providing a narrative soliloquy on the importance the first moment of a ministry can be.

Jesus addresses his mother as woman. This may be a formal or culturally appropriate way to address her for the time period. Maybe this is included to indicate a shift in their relationship. It also hints that this is not a simple report of what happened. While Jesus addresses her, she chooses to speak to the servants.  Again, a possible clue something more is being revealed here.  Another beautiful explanation is that she is showing her faith in Jesus to do what is right and possible for him like Pastor Emillie preached. "The Wedding Gift" episode of The Chosen highlights this aspect of her faith as well.

So this is the first of John's seven "signs". The "mother" (she is never called by her name in John) thinks this is this is the time for the messianic feast. Jesus says no, "my hour has not yet come". This is not to be the messianic feast. That will come with Jesus' death and resurrection. This "sign" foreshadows what will eventually be his hour. A foreshadowing of Jesus' crucifixion opens this story.  This "sign" occurs on the third day of the wedding. And the mother of Jesus is referenced only twice in the John's gospel, at the wedding at Cana and at the foot of the cross.

It is so poignant that the mother of Jesus brackets his earthly ministry in John's Gospel. She is present at the beginning of his career and she is there as she watches him die. She is the nurturing force when he is the Word made flesh, a shared parenthood with God, the father. This can be a reminder that whenever Jesus reveals his divinity, something about his humanity is simultaneously revealed. Perhaps, in this sign of turning water into wine, we might want to use it to experience something that we need to know about ourselves.

Six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification are filled with the water that will become wine. There is far more than what would be needed to satisfy the thirst of wedding guests. This shows not only that God provides in abundance but suggests the purification purpose of the jars is important and relevant. 

On deeper examination more than one miracle takes place as this transformation occurs.. Jesus, revealing his glory, is instantly fulfilling a role of host rather than a guest. The wedding steward assumes that the old bridegroom is still the host when making the observation "Everyone serves the good wine first and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” We know this assumption is not the case.

Note that this account does not mention anything about the bride or the ceremony itself. This leaves the wedding open to standing for something more - the union of daily, routine aspects of life with a higher calling we have as humans. This union is producing a born again man .The wedding celebrates this as a time of joy and abundance.

When read like this other details here fall into place. "My time has not yet come," implies the importance of timing and readiness in undertaking great spiritual work. Transformation occurs when conditions are right—when the individual is prepared and receptive to a higher call. Jesus calling his mother woman also fits. She, the servants, and the water stand for the ordinary, mechanical aspects of life and human nature. The wine then shows everyone working to achieve this higher call of  bringing God's kin-dom to earth.

Wine is associated with joy and festivity. After this miracle, when Jesus acts as the new bridegroom and host of the wedding. Both spiritual teachings and psychological development become interconnected.

Dwelling with the fortuitous incidentals John brings into this wedding at Cana account reveals profound truths. The story encapsulates and stirs within us so much of the joy and festivity the celebration extols. When Creator members talked about this passage last Wednesday, we had an animated and inspired discussion about the fruits of the spirit listed in Galatians. This is, in part, because in John's Gospel Jesus’ signs show, rather than tell what abundant grace is, “from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (John 1:16). Turning water into wine reveals abundant grace. And what does abundant grace taste like? Like the best wine when cheap stuff is expected. It’s one thing to say, “Jesus is the source of grace.” It’s quite another to have an experience of it.  

January 16, 2022 - Second Sunday after Epiphany - Who's Getting Married and Where is the Epiphany?

The Wedding at Cana is unique to the Fourth Gospel and is the first of Jesus’ seven signs in the narrative.

According to John changing water into wine is not a miracle but a sign of who Jesus is. What does this reveal about who Jesus is and what Jesus will do? We should remember that the miracles Jesus performs in the Fourth Gospel are never called miracles. The miracle itself is not really what we are supposed to see, as miraculous as it is.

True, water into wine is something, but the signs point to a truer revelation about Jesus. Revelation for revelation’s sake is really not the point. What deeper reality being revealed? What are we supposed to see about Jesus?

First there is Isaiah 25:6 that predicts what, in the Old Testament, is known as the messianic feast: 

On this mountain the LORD Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine— the best of meats and the finest of wines.

The "mother" thinks this is this is the time for the messianic feast. Jesus says "my hour has not yet come". This is not to be the messianic feast. That will come with Jesus' death and resurrection, his hour. Yet the atmosphere and foreshadowing is undeniable. The Wedding at Cana, for example, opens with and takes place on the third day.

The word “grace” occurs only four times in the Fourth Gospel and only in the Prologue (1:1-18). Why? One could make the argument that John’s source for the Prologue was an extant hymn that John borrowed and inserted into his narrative. But, what if we take the incarnation seriously and suggest that once the Word becomes flesh, the rest of the Gospel shows you what grace tastes like, looks like, smells like, sounds like, and feels like?

Jesus’ signs show you, don’t tell you, what abundant grace is, “from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (1:16). Turning water into wine is revealing abundant grace. And what does abundant grace taste like? Like the best wine when cheap stuff is expected. It’s one thing to say, “Jesus is the source of grace.” It’s quite another to have an experience of it.

The details of abundance cannot be overlooked in this text — six water jars, each 20-30 gallons, filled to the brim, of the best wine. The amount in and of itself is extraordinary. But the best wine? At this point in a wedding celebration? Unheard of. Back in the day, weddings typically lasted a week, where the host would serve the better wine when the guests could actually taste what they were drinking, a nice expensive Chardonnay, perhaps. After a few days of drinking and determined levels of inebriation would the guests be served a Gallo jug Chablis instead. Let's think how real this is and how extravagant. This is not a miracle of healing or feeding. No one is going to suffer if this does not happen. God is declaring party time for humankind

Another important detail in this first sign, this first act of Jesus’ public ministry, is that his mother is present. In the Gospel of John, the mother of Jesus is never named, never called Mary. She is always denoted by her relationship to Jesus. Here, it is her urging that initiates Jesus’ action.

The exchange between Jesus and his mother is really quite funny and we do ourselves no favors when insisting that the Bible is void of humor. She notes that the wedding hosts have run out of wine. Jesus’ response is, basically ,that they should have hired a better wedding planner. But then, she tells the servants to do whatever Jesus says. 

Here we can see the mother of Jesus, like a mother of a schoolboy encouraging her child to get on the school bus for the first time: “Come on, you can do it! I know you can!” But, I also wonder what she saw in that moment. What had Jesus revealed to her up to that point that would cause her to believe that such a miracle was possible from him? How did she suspect this could be a time for revelation even if it was not the messianic feast.

The mother of Jesus appears only twice in the Gospel of John, at the wedding at Cana and at the foot of the cross. Another detail that ties the wedding at Cana to the cross. While we are not told about here about her reoccurrence later in the Gospel, we get a hint of her return in Jesus’ reason for what seems to be a refusal of her request, “My hour has not yet come.” Throughout the Gospel of John, Jesus will refer to his “hour” which signals the time of his death.

It is more than poignant that the mother of Jesus brackets his life, surrounds Jesus’ earthly ministry. She is at the beginning of his career and watches him die. She is the nurturing force when he is the Word made flesh, a shared parenthood with God, the father. This can be a reminder that whenever Jesus reveals his divinity, he is simultaneously revealing something about his humanity. Perhaps, in the sign that it is the water into wine, we might even experience something that we need to know about ourselves.

Not only does the water change into wine but, by doing this, Jesus has turned from a guest to being the host. God wants to be, and is always, the bridegroom. And this is the epiphany we can glean from this account  

January 17, 2016 - Second Sunday After Epiphany - Interim Pastor Michelle's First Sunday Worship at Creator

Creator welcomed Pastor Michelle as she presided over worship today.  Most of the congregation wore their name tags and enjoyed conversations with the new Interim Pastor and her husband Robert (who attended this morning as well) both before the service and in the Adult Forum after the service.

Creator Praise opened with an energetic Come, Now Is The Time to Worship.  Matt provided his best musical leadership on the piano and, once again, there were five strong singers leading at the mics up front.

After announcements, Council President Trish Voss led the congregation in the statements of commitment contained in the Liturgy and Welcome for the Beginning of the Interim Journey. The words of the Kyrie reinforced that beginning of that journey: Kyrie eleison, on our world and on our way.  Kyrie eleison, every day.

After the Prayer of the Day Pastor Michelle took as her subject for Children's Time the Second Lesson 1 Corinthians 12:1-11.  She talked to the children about the individual gifts that they had and started them off by example identifying her gift as caring.  Speaking, silence and marriage all came up in the Lessons and the Gospel for the Day, John 2:1-11 The Wedding at Cana.

Pastor Michelle started her sermon with the current political climate of the nation. She mentioned how easy it was for politicians to peddle fear and how that affects our view of the world.  She observed that looking through "fear colored glasses", particularly if they taint our vision of those around us, can leave us feeling empty. She talked about the consequences of that empty feeling when all we are able to think is "I can't" and yet God can work with us even when we are feeling helpless.  God says, "Be still. Do not be afraid. Alone you can't, but I can."

When the sermon moved to the Gospel reading Pastor Michelle did a humorous and effective role-play between Jesus and his Mother (from the perspective of the Mother).  Basically it was from the Mother's perspective.  She points out there is no wine. Jesus asks "What has that got to do with me?" and the Mother holds back from saying anything, giving "the mother's look", confident that Jesus will do something to help the host with the hospitality crisis.

Personally, having the Wedding at Cana as the Gospel lesson just coming off last week's retirement celebration gave the passage additional meaning and resonances.  First was a rather whimsical coincidence. John tells that nothing is spoken to the main beneficiary at the party about water changed to wine.  To keep Pastor Dayle surprised the congregation needed to keep silent about the party details.  There is something powerful and unique about this kind of silence and probably why "surprise" parties are popular.

Jesus used the image of the wedding banquet to describe the Kingdom of God in some of his parables.  My mind was on that last week and here was another clear reminder to underscore that importance of partying for those who are drawn to worship.

The non-chronological placement of Cana in John also drew my attention today.  Just before is the calling of disciples (Pastor Michelle pointed out today disciple translates as learner) and the Cleansing of the Temple which chronologically happens at the end of Jesus' ministry unless there were two times when in his ministry where Jesus cleared the temple.

The connections in these Bible verses are evident.  There is ritual cleansing referred to in the Cana passage and a cleansing of the temple.  Again Pastor Michelle, when talking about how much water changed to wine, made a wry reference to cleansing by converting the abundance measurement for us to "bathtubs full of wine".

Both John passages also contain words that foreshadow Jesus' death that almost feel forced into the passages.  My hour has not yet come in the Cana story and Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up in reference to the temple of his body in the Cleansing of the Temple.  The other "wedding" parables also contain death references  For example, in the Parable of the Wedding Banquet the king orders his army to kill those who killed his servants who invited them to attend the wedding of the king's son.  I will use the example of silence not to elaborate further on ideas as to why this is.      

Singing Now the Silence during communion drew attention back again to the silence emphasized in the Lessons and the Gospel.  The Cleansing of the Temple also brought to mind the power of silence and how Jesus was silent in front of Pilate.

As the congregation ended communion with Bind Us Together, it felt very much like the prayer and recognition embodied in the words that we are all one body.  That God is the glorious new wine connected to Cana and how ritual purification, after the miracle, would never be the same at this wedding because all the water had become wine.  God changed the ritual wholesale.

The service ended with We Are Marching in the Light of God. When it came to the verse We are dancing in the light of God, Pastor Michelle danced.  Her dance and the song expressed the joy and delight of the congregation moving forward on Creator's newly launched Interim Journey.

Photos by Ron Houser