Category: Stories

Scripture: Luke 19:37–40; Luke 23:1–5; John 18:36
Holy Week Devotional by Rev. Philip Allred

Holy Week begins with a parade.

However, this is not the type of celebration Rome would have envisioned. Rome showcased its generals, military triumphs, and displays of power—processions filled with soldiers, war horses, and trophies from victory. In contrast, Jesus enters Jerusalem on a humble colt rather than a war horse. He carries no weapons but instead brings humility. His procession features the ordinary and the overlooked. The crowds proclaim, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!”—an inherently subversive claim, for in the empire’s eyes, the title of king already belongs to Caesar.

This marks the initial indication that Holy Week represents a confrontation. Instead of swords, it involves truth; rather than violence, it embodies love. Jesus does not shy away from the world’s powers—he boldly approaches their stronghold, declaring through both words and actions that another kingdom has arrived.

Throughout the week, Jesus turns the symbols of the empire upside down:

• He enters the Temple not to uphold religious respectability but to disrupt its collusion with political power.
• He washes his disciples’ feet, refusing the ladder of dominance and choosing instead the basin of servanthood.
• He shares a meal, not with elites, but with friends—some of whom will betray and abandon him—proving that love is not earned but given.

On Good Friday, the empire does what empires always do: it silences dissent, this time with a cross.

They call him a threat to national stability. They say he’s undermining public order. They accuse him of inciting revolution.

And in a way, they’re right. He is leading a revolution—not with legions, but with love. As Brian Zahnd says, “Jesus didn’t come to start a religion; he came to start a revolution. Not a revolution of violence, but of love.”

This Holy Week, we’re not just remembering a story. We are being invited to live it.

The empire’s narrative is still alive in the world today—in systems that oppress, ideologies that divide, and the lies we tell ourselves about who matters and who doesn’t. To walk the way of Jesus is to reject the ways of empire—whether that empire looks like nationalism, violence, racism, exploitation, or any system that crushes the vulnerable to protect the powerful.

However, Holy Week presents a contrasting narrative: embodying the subversive gospel includes

• Choosing forgiveness when the world demands retribution.
• Showing mercy when the culture demands judgment.
• Standing with the vulnerable when empire protects the powerful.
• Loving enemies when the world teaches us to fear them.
• Carrying a cross, not to punish, but to redeem.

This is not just a nice idea—it is a different way of being human. A different way of ordering the world. A different kind of kingdom.

The cross is not just where Jesus died. It’s where the values of empire go to die. And the empty tomb is not just about life after death—it is about life before death, a new kingdom breaking through.

So, as we walk through Holy Week, may we see it not as a series of rituals but as a revolution. May we find ourselves caught up in the story of a God who defeats violence with peace, hate with love, and death with resurrection.

Let us walk this week not as spectators but as disciples—people shaped by the subversive nature of a different kind of king.

By Rev. Philip Allred

I recently returned from a pilgrimage to Argentina, a journey that was as emotionally difficult as it was spiritually rich. We sought to learn from Methodist churches and those who experienced one of the darkest periods in Argentina’s history- the military dictatorship from 1976 to 1983 that led to the disappearance of 30,000 individuals.

I listened to a man speak about his parents, who were taken by the regime and never returned. I stood in a former military base turned museum filled with faces—thousands of the disappeared—all tortured, all killed. Then I learned something that made the grief heavier: the U.S. government helped fund and train the Argentine military behind it all.

I left that day asking deep questions:
What is the Church’s role in the face of political extremism?
When do we speak up?
How do we discern the truth when even history itself is contested?

These aren’t abstract questions. Today, Argentina wrestles with the same divisions we do. Some deny the scale of the atrocities. Others cling to a version of history they believe restores order. And the Church is caught in the middle—divided, weary, and still trying to be faithful.

I thought of Jesus’ words:

“By their fruits, you will know them” (Matthew 7:16).

Truth isn’t just a claim; it’s what endures. It’s what produces justice, humility, and compassion. That’s the truth we must live by.

But alongside that grief, I also encountered something holy. I saw radical hospitality.

We were welcomed like family in a church, not polished and pristine like American churches. At this church, we enjoyed a prepared meal, sang together, and shared with them in laughter. I noticed they were organizing children’s programs—not to boost attendance but to bring hope to the community. Another church launched job workshops aimed at helping people achieve dignity and earn a living. Yet another church trained former sex workers and unhoused women in sewing to provide income for their needs and their families.

These communities weren’t wealthy. But they were rich in presence. Their ministry wasn’t flashy—it was faithful. This kind of hospitality was beautiful to experience. I was reminded of the early church in Acts 2:

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer… And they had everything in common.”

True community is not just programs—it’s people, showing up for each other. Creating space. Sharing what they have.

As I reflected on the political and social complexities I witnessed in Argentina, I found a mirror of our own challenges. Just as they wrestle with contested histories and deep division, so do we. Some churches there are deeply engaged in political advocacy. Others avoid politics entirely. Some lean more conservative; others more populist or progressive. But like them, we are asking: How do we follow Jesus in a politically fractured world?

I believe the Church must not perfectly align itself with any one ideology or party. Instead, we must evaluate every policy and every power through the lens of Christ—through the call to love, justice, and humility. Sometimes, this means we will align with a particular group or movement for a time, but our allegiance is never to them. Our loyalty is to the way of Christ, who calls us to stand with the vulnerable, speak truth, and pursue the peaceable Kingdom above all else.

Here’s what I’m bringing back from Argentina, which I will be processing in the coming months:

• Truth matters—not for argument’s sake, but because real lives are shaped by it. The Church must be a voice of clarity and compassion in a world of spin.
• Hospitality is Resistance—against despair, against division, against apathy. It’s what makes the Kingdom of God tangible.
• Kingdom allegiance means no tribal allegiance. Not red. Not blue. Not purple. But the radical love of Jesus, who sided with the least of these.

As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn said,

 “You can resolve to live your life with integrity. Let your credo be this: Let the lie come into the world; let it even triumph. BUT NOT THROUGH ME.”

My prayer is that spin, lies, and disinformation come to an end with us! Let us be known not by our opinions or party but by our courage to tell the truth and our commitment to breaking bread with our neighbors.

Let us be a Kingdom Church where Christ is King, honesty is sacred, and the table is always set.

I want to share where I have seen hope recently.

Yesterday, I gathered with about 200 other United Methodist Clergy in Lakeland for 5 hours of worship, fellowship, learning, challenge and dreaming. It was our Clergy Day Apart and we do enjoy being together. Ministry is difficult at times and while I have a Covenant group and friends in ministry, gathering with other pastors to pray and worship and hope for the future was so good for my soul.

Our time was led by our Bishop, Tom Berlin and he started by painting a realistic picture of our current reality in this country and what the church is likely to face over the next few years. Then he walked us through a Pew Research Poll that tells us where those that are not in faith communities sit currently. According to this research, 62% of US adults describe themselves as Christians.

The Pew Research Poll found that of the US adults who participated in the research, this is how they describe their relationship to faith:

• 29% are religiously unaffiliated
• 5% Atheist (Belief in no God)
• 6% Agnostic (Belief in some higher power)
• 19% is nothing in particular
• 2% are Jewish
• 1% are Muslim

(I realize this only equals 64% and doesn’t represent the whole population, but it does give us, I think, a more realistic picture of the culture we live in.)

And of these same adults who were polled, 66% of adults who attend religious services say that most or all people in their services look like them.

These are the data points we now see lived out in our churches that are getting smaller and older and more homogenous. The above are simply facts and while facts are helpful in some things, they don’t always give us hope. We know that the church in America is getting smaller. We know that people who used to come to worship every week, are coming now only once ever 4-6 weeks and feel good about their attendance. We know that the church of the 1980’s and the 1990’s is over and we would be silly to go back. And you are all smart enough and wise enough individuals to feel that change, but we don’t stop there; don’t give up. Here is where I see the hope.

If there are 29% of folks religiously unaffiliated, meaning they grew up in some faith, but they are no longer associated with that faith anymore and there are 19% describe themselves as nothing in particular, that means, if you add up those two categories that almost 50% of US adults are still making their mind up about God and this thing called faith…how cool is that?! This means that US adults are still seeking, still questioning, still doubting, still yearning and the followers of Jesus, if they are brave enough, can make a safe enough space to allow them to question in community.

When John Wesley has trying to summarize what it meant to be a Wesleyan Christian in the 1700’s, he established our Three General Rules:

1. Do No Harm
2. Do Good
3. Attend upon the Ordinances of God (or stay in love with God)

Yesterday our Bishop proposed Three General Rules for the rebirth of a new United Methodist Church and I tend to like how he summarized them. I wonder if you could get behind these General Rules today.

1. Heal the Harm
2. Offer the Good of Christ to the Community
3. Teach People to Love God, love each other and love themselves, because they are deeply loved

Brothers and Sisters, what would that look like if we prioritized our time and our resources as people, as a church, as a faith family around these three things? If Christ is the great Healer, then let His hands and feet heal. If God is Good and Gracious, let us tell our neighbors about it. And if Jesus loved the world so much that he gave up his life to set us free, we have the best story to tell our community!

I don’t know about you, but hearts are opening and ears are listening and eyes are watching the people who call themselves followers of Jesus as we respond to these trying times. What new thing might God be up to as we obediently and joyfully respond to the work of the Holy Spirit?

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent. Within the church calendar, Lent is to Easter as Advent is to Christmas. It is a period of preparation. For the cross. For the resurrection. A period of preparation that begins with “Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

The story that begins with the God of the universe putting on human flesh and entering the world through blood and water, ends as all human stories must: with death.

Christianity, predicated on following the footsteps of Christ — is about descent and not ascent. It is about surrender, it is about gratitude, it is about becoming nothing because, as Father Richard Rohr would say, “when we are nothing we are in a fine position to receive everything from God.”

And so on this day, we participate in a symbolism that holds together two things. The cross that is marked on our forehead is made of two elements, ash, from the palm branches of the Palm Sunday past, and this ash represents the dirt and mess of life. And oil, which represents the anointing of holy and sacred beings. Oil was poured on the foreheads of those being anointed to be kings or in positions of high and holy power. And so can we see the crosses of Ash Wednesday as a combination of both dirty and holiness; of messy and yet sacred promise?

In talking through our upcoming services with my husband Ryan this week (he is also a United Methodist Pastor) he shared something with me that I had never learned before. He said that the anointing happened on the forehead in the Ancient Times because it was believed that your hair was the gate to your soul. Because the roots of hair run deep, long or short, hair is very deep. It’s like the body and soul’s antennas transmitting energy from a higher realm, while also exuding the deepest, most inner parts of one’s being. Which is why we use the forehead for this cross. We hold on our foreheads a mixture of mess and promise; dirt and oil, sin and purity…but isn’t our life a combination or both of these things. Don’t we all live in these tensions every day as we walk with Jesus?

If Lent is the somber reminder of our human condition, then Easter declares that there is hope, but that hope lies not in escaping our humanity but in journeying through it. Because Lent also points us to the inevitability of suffering and how, even as followers of Jesus, we don’t get a “get out of suffering free” card. We know the hard truth that life without suffering does not exist.

One of my favorite authors, Rachel Held Evans reminds us, in Searching for Sunday, that healing comes when we “enter into one another’s pain, anoint it as holy, and stick around no matter the outcome.”

Anoint it as holy. Think about that.

What would happen if we really believed that? That our suffering, our neighbors’ suffering, was holy? Holy not because God delights in suffering but because God came and joined us within it. Holy in the same way that Communion is holy — the spilled blood, the broken body — because Christ comes and meets us there. Not symbolically, but sacramentally. Incarnationally.

And so tonight, if you are receiving the imposition of ashes at our worship service remember that you are mortal. That you are human (with all the perils and frailty the term implies). And remember that being human is a holy thing. That our mortality is a holy thing. Sanctified by the One who came, the One who died, and the One who rose again.

May we all have courage to face our deaths and walk more fully into life.

Scripture: Numbers 27:1-11

In Numbers 27:1-11, we encounter Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milkah, and Tirzah—daughters of Zelophehad—who boldly approach Moses and the assembly with an unprecedented request: to receive their father’s inheritance since he left no sons. Their courage and faith result in a remarkable response. God acknowledges their plea and instructs Moses to amend the inheritance laws, ensuring justice for them and future generations.

This story raises a challenging question: Did God change, or did the people’s understanding of God evolve? Pastor David posed this question in his sermon, inviting us to wrestle with how we interpret Scripture. Is God’s justice fixed, or is it continually unfolding as humanity grows in its capacity to understand and embody divine love and mercy?

I want to give you two different perspectives to consider as you think through this question, but both lead to the same answer. God’s grace is ever-expanding:

1. Pete Enns suggests that the Bible portrays moments where God literally changes God’s mind in response to human advocacy. You can explore this view further in an excerpt from his book, Inspiration and Incarnation: Evangelicals and the Problem of the Old Testament: Does God Change His Mind?.

2. Brian Zahnd offers a different perspective, emphasizing that it’s not God who changes but rather our understanding of God. We grow, mature, and see more clearly the expansive grace that was there all along. Read more here: God and Genocide

Which perspective resonates with you? Do you believe God’s justice is fixed, or are we the ones throughout the Bible expanding our understanding of grace and mercy? Perhaps the truth lies in holding these tensions together—trusting the Holy Spirit to guide us into deeper truth while remaining open to the mystery of God’s wild and free nature.

As Richard Rohr reminds us:

“Now, believe it or not, we are threatened by such a free God threatens us because it takes away all of our ability to control or engineer the process. It leaves us powerless, and changes the language from any language of performance or achievement to that of surrender, trust and vulnerability…That is the so-called “wildness” of God. We cannot control God by any means whatsoever, not even by our good behavior, which tends to be our first and natural instinct.” 

Prayer: Gracious God, we thank You for the example of Zelophehad’s daughters, whose boldness expanded the community’s understanding of justice. Help us to remain open to Your Spirit’s guidance and to grow in our understanding of Your mercy and grace. May we listen, learn, and respond with courage to reflect Your unfolding love in our lives. Amen.

Thought for the Day: God’s grace invites us into an ever-expanding journey of discovery and transformation.

This past Saturday, a lay leader and I drove all the way up to Pinetta, FL, to celebrate the 10^th Anniversary of the Madison Youth Ranch. If you don’t know, or haven’t heard me mention it before, I am on the Board of the Florida United Methodist Children’s Home. We are now called Residing Hope and we have quite a story to tell. Starting back in 1908, we were an orphanage, but over the last 115 years, we have grown into something so much more. We recently changed our name to reflect the wide services that the Florida United Methodist Children’s Home provides and to help tell the story of Hope to our neighbors. Now, we have not only a home for at-risk youth, but we also offer counseling services, an Early Learning Preschool, Foster Care, Residential Group Homes, Equine Therapy, Independent Living, Legacy Academy, and Chapel and Religious Community Life. We accept Private and Public youth and we never say no to a youth, no matter how hard their situation is. You may know a little about the Children’s Home because of what you have heard said on 5^th Sundays when we take up a special offering to support it, or maybe you made baskets with me on a Serve Day or maybe you have been on campus for a tour. I wanted to invite you to Residing Hope’s Day on Campus, in Enterprise on Saturday, March 8^th from 10am until 2pm. I will be there and I would love to tell you more.

But back to Saturday. The event this Saturday was the 10^th anniversary of the Madison Youth Ranch, which serves children in the northern part of our state, and I mean Northern, almost to Georgia. This area could not be more different from the bustling life of Central Florida, but what a gift it is to the 9 girls that currently reside there. There is room for 16 children and youth in the cottages, aging from 10-18 years old, but right now, because of therapist shortages, there are only 9. I got to meet a few of these remarkable ladies, their house parents and the staff of the Madison Youth Ranch. We got to tour the cottages, the Chapel, the office buildings, the pool, community garden, Stickey Stables, and the Equine Therapy Center. As I talked to a few of the teenage girls who are currently residents there, I was beyond thankful to be a part of this incredible ministry. I have attached a few photos of the event because it is a beautiful and safe space. I don’t know the situations or stories of the girls there, but who we met told us their story with confidence, joy and deep respect for the process and for the community that they were living in.

These girls grew up in a family different from my own, with challenges that I never faced. But with bravery, humor and creative determination, they are facing their new challenges with such a profound sense of knowing who they are and whose they are. I heard them share about how they are working hard in school, sending allowance money to a grandmother in Puerto Rico, or working to get her grades up so that she can pass the classes to one day be a CIA agent. One girl told me about her love of the Harry Potter books and how important time with the horses has been for her confidence. Another spoke about youth group and how they are reading the Bible with their house parent and growing in their faith. I am always blown away by what God is doing in the hearts of young people and I wanted to share with all of you, who have been giving sacrificially to the Florida United Methodist Children’s Home for years, what your partnership with the Holy Spirit has done. Please know that I am here to answer any questions you have and to celebrate this ministry with you.

Today I lost my keys and it threw off my whole morning. I am usually not a forgetful person, but I had to run an errand and in the midst of the rain and rushing to get back to my responsibilities, I misplaced my key. For whatever reason, I have simplified my keys to just one car key and not the normal handful of keys, don’t ask me why, I don’t remember but it sure made it hard to find. I had a meeting I had to get to and so I was searching frantically in all the nooks and crannies where I had last been. Long story short, I finally found my key, but I found several other things too. I found some missing socks, an important charging cord for a phone or IPad and where my missing heating pad has been all of this time.

These may seem like minor things and they are, but if I hadn’t lost my key, when would I have eventually found them? I don’t know, like I said, I am not a forgetful person and I don’t lose things often, but maybe sometimes, lostness can be a good thing. Maybe needing to slow down and look can give you a new perspective. It is probably why I enjoy traveling or going on new adventures that I have never explored, because lostness can be a chance to find something you may be missing.

I believe that God is a God that isn’t afraid of our lostness, or our forgetfulness. Sometimes our brains are going a mile a minute and we lose track of what task is before us. Our minds were never intended to be as fast pasted or cluttered as it seems we are this day. I know it is not just me, but in any five-minute block of the day, I could have five or six voices calling for my attention. The voice of a loved one or colleague asking a question, a call on my cell phone or office line, a notification from one of the kid’s school or a news update, an email for work or from the doctor, a person passing by that needs attention or a hug, and that doesn’t even take into effect our heart, soul and mind. It is too much, too much clutter, too much noise.

All of that to say it can be exhausting. Maybe lostness is a blessing.

I don’t know what you are feeling in this new year with new challenges and so much division around us. I don’t know if you are feeling lost or wanting to get lost. But let me encourage you that lostness isn’t always a problem. Sometimes being lost allows you to take the time to look in the nooks and crannies of the places that collect dust and are hard to reach. Maybe those “hard to reach” places are the anxieties you hold deep down, your fear of the future, your anger that hasn’t been resolved, your bitterness toward a person or position that has caused much pain, or your lack of forgiveness for your yourself or someone else. What are those “hard to reach places” in your soul where a missing set of car keys could be hiding? It could be that in slowing down long enough to find essential things like keys, you realize just how much abundance you have in your life (or how much you desperately need to dust under your couch). When those places of darkness and dust have light shine upon them, and preferably the all-encompassing, loving light of Jesus, you can pull out those things that have been tucked away and dirty for far too long and the Holy Spirit can begin to do her good work on them.

Either way, here is my permission to get lost a little bit from time to time because the God that made every nook and cranny within you isn’t afraid of a disordered or misplaced child. I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt because the God we know in Jesus has always been in the business of finding us and shining light on the darkest of places.

As we continue through our Stewardship Sermon series, we talked first about witness, then Sabbath and this past week about Money. I have heard and preached many sermons on giving of our money and I feel this was one of the best. I have had conversations with folks after Sunday’s sermon that have had good questions and faithful follow through about it. The scripture we unpacked together is Mark 10:17-27 when a wealthy man approaches Jesus to ask what he must do to inherit eternal life. Often in the church we focus on how the man went away and how he missed out. But what if he eventually figured it out, obeyed Jesus and returned to follow him? What if he did end up shifting his priorities, putting his trust in Jesus and becoming one of his first followers? We can never know what happened after this story, but the part of the Scripture that really stood out to me this time in studying it is when it says, “Jesus looked at him and loved him.”

When I think about how many times I have asked Jesus for the “right answer” on a problem I had to solve and he looked at me with love, I am overwhelmed. And the more I learn about the love God has for me and how God wants the best for me, I see how “my money” plays a role in that. It is because of Jesus’ love for me that I am invited to live free from being possessed by my possessions. Not that we have to give everything we own away but so we won’t be “owned” by things. We have freedom when we know that Jesus loves us enough to not let us be defined by material things. And as I studied this text again this week, I felt the love that Jesus had for the wealthy man wash over me too.

As I was talking with my Connect Group about this passage this week, what came up over and over again was the word TRUST. Do we trust that God will meet our needs? It could be that we have thought that the wealthy man in this Scripture went away from Jesus because he was greedy and didn’t want to give away all he had (which to be honest, I would struggle with too). But what if it wasn’t greed that stopped the wealthy man, what if it was FEAR? Apprehension and distress is the opposite of trust and if we aren’t careful, fear wins every time.

With that in mind, I want to ask you, does FEAR stop you from giving all you can? Fear that there won’t be enough. Fear that incoming medical bills will be more than you can handle. Fear because you are on a fixed income. Fear because your family or friends might need your financial help one day?

These are all fears and very real and honest truths for the world we live in today. The older I get and the more ‘adulting’ I do…I think this story is less about being greedy and more about naming the fear of not having enough. I believe that one of the reasons why talking about financial stewardship is so awkward for those in the church is because we have yet to address the fear of not having enough. We live in a culture that is always pushing us to buy more, invest more, spend more and I heard yesterday that the credit card debt in our country this quarter is at an all time high. The truth is trusting that we don’t need all of our wants and that God will be faithful in meeting our needs is so counter-cultural to our lives today.

But here is what I have learned:

Ryan and I have been giving over and above since we were married 14.5 years ago and since we have always given 10% or more of our salary back to the churches, ministries and non-profits that work to bring God’s Kingdom to earth, we have NEVER GONE WITHOUT. Yes, we have had to be diligent and money smart. We have had to budget and save and say no to a lot of things we wanted to say yes to, we have had to work side jobs, and shop around and buy clothes and shoes second hand, but we have never gone without. The point is, we don’t just blindly trust that God will meet our needs, no, as followers of Jesus we still have to be wise and steward our finances well, but when we give 10% or more to the churches we serve, we have such freedom in knowing that God has been, is now and ever will be faithful. We learned a long time ago that all we have is God’s anyways and we are only stewarding these gifts while we can in the time we have. And in this mindset, we have such freedom. We don’t always get it right, but we are clear about our financial priorities and how we have put God first not just because we are spiritual leaders, but because we refuse to let fear win. We commit to each other and to our church families that we will model trust in a God that gave his first and best for us.

I don’t know what you are struggling to trust in today, but it always helps me when I am afraid to sing a song. And so I want to end today’s devotion with the lyrics from the Hymn: God of the Ages.

God of the ages, by whose hand
Through years long past our lives were led,
Give use new courage now to stand,
New faith to find the paths ahead.

Thou art the thought beyond all thought,
The gift beyond our utmost prayer;
No farthest reach where thou art not,
No height but we may find thee there.

Forgive our wavering trust in thee,
Our wild alarms, our trembling fears;
In thy strong hand eternally
Rests the unfolding of the years.

Though there be dark, uncharted space,
With worlds on worlds beyond our sight,
Still may we trust thy love and grace
And wait thy word, Let there be light.
Amen.

Hymn written by Elisabeth Burrowes