Rev MaryGean Cope

Tag: discipleship

  • The Heart of Prayer

    The Heart of Prayer

    Leslie Weatherhead wrote a book called The Will of God that I read when I was young, and it saved me. Not spiritually saved, but intellectually—it gave me a framework for holding all the ways my life didn’t look like what I thought God wanted.

    Weatherhead was a preacher who lived through two world wars and the Depression, all the things that make you question what God’s doing. And he came up with three ways to think about God’s will.

    There’s the intentional will of God—what God actually wants for us. What God designs for us. In the creation story, God wants order and goodness and beauty. God’s intention is that none be lost. When Jesus came, God’s intention was for us to follow him, to understand God, to become the kind of people who love the way God loves.

    But we have free will. And we don’t usually do what God intends. We rebel. We choose ourselves. We want what we want and we’re willing to make a mess to get it.

    So here’s the second one: the circumstantial will of God. Given the mess we’ve made—given that we’ve rejected God’s intention—what does God do? Does God just give up? No. God looks at the situation we’ve created and asks, now what? What can I do in these circumstances to move things toward good?

    Here’s the hard part: Jesus’s death wasn’t God’s intention. God’s intention was for Jesus to be followed, to teach us how to live. But we wouldn’t do that. So God said, okay, what can I do with this rejection? How can I redeem this death? And the answer was resurrection. God took our rebellion, took our evil, took our worst act, and turned it into salvation.

    That’s the circumstantial will of God. Not God causing the bad thing, but God refusing to let the bad thing have the last word.

    And then there’s the providential will—the long view. The way God weaves everything together over time. We don’t see that one clearly until we look back. All those things that seemed like disasters, all those detours—they were working toward something. You can’t see it while you’re in it. But you see it later.

    Most of us live our whole lives asking why things happen. Why did my marriage end. Why did I lose the job. Why is my child struggling. And those are real questions. But the answer isn’t always clear, and sometimes there is no good answer. Some things are just evil. Some things are just human stupidity.

    What helps is understanding that God’s working on multiple levels at once. Trying to move us toward the intention while working within the circumstances we’ve created. And trusting that the long view, the providential will, is carrying us somewhere that will make sense.

    Not because everything works out. But because God doesn’t let anything be wasted. Even our rebellion. Even our pain. God’s always looking for the next move toward good.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Heart of Prayer

    The Heart of Prayer

    New Year’s Eve. Candlelight service. Which is funny because candlelight feels peaceful, right? Contemplative. But I got a call this morning from someone whose husband just had triple bypass surgery. Lying in the hospital on New Year’s Eve. And I’m sitting there holding that phone thinking about peace.

    Here’s the thing about December 31st: we all want to believe next year will be better. Cleaner. We’ll finally get it right. But that’s not really how God works. God doesn’t give us a fresh start by magic. God says: I’ll be with you in the mess. Even the parts you thought you’d escaped.

    I was reading about the old tradition of watching for the New Year at midnight—the whole thing about “year in, year out.” Like time is just this turning wheel and you get to stand at the threshold and imagine something different. But then the phone call this morning reminded me: you don’t get a fresh year. You get a year with your actual life in it. With people you love in hospital beds. With failures from last year still hanging around.

    The real gift—if there is one—is God’s presence in that continuity. Not some magical erasing. Just God saying: I’m here. Still. Again. You don’t have to start clean. You just have to start true.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Heart of Prayer (Luke 1)

    The Heart of Prayer (Luke 1)

    We’re in Advent now, waiting. Waiting is hard. We’re not patient people. We want what we want and we want it now. But Advent is teaching us that waiting can be holy. That longing for something good, something true, something that really matters—that’s not wasted time.

    Jesus came once, and we know that story. But we’re still waiting for him to come again, to make everything right, to finish the healing work. In the meantime, we get to be his hands and his heart. We get to show people what God’s love looks like while we’re waiting. That’s our work. That’s our calling. And it matters more than you probably know.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Heart of Prayer

    The Heart of Prayer

    That young man came running up to Jesus and asked what he had to do to get eternal life. Jesus told him about the commandments—don’t murder, don’t commit adultery, don’t steal, don’t give false testimony. And the guy said, well, I’ve kept all of those since I was a boy.

    And then it says something that just stops you: Jesus looked at him carefully and loved him. He hadn’t even decided yet. Hadn’t committed to anything. But Jesus looked at him carefully and loved him.

    Then Jesus said: you’re missing one thing. Go sell what you own. Give the money to the poor. Then come follow me.

    And the man went away sad because he had a lot of stuff.

    Jesus looks at us the same way. With that same careful, loving look. And he points out the one thing that’s in the way. Not the same thing for everybody—something different for each one of us. For this guy it was his possessions. For you it might be laziness. Or selfishness. Or greed, whether you’ve got a lot or a little. Maybe it’s hatred. Maybe it’s prejudice. Maybe you’re so full of yourself there’s no room for God.

    What’s the one thing standing between you and the grace God freely gives?

    The disciples were terrified when they heard this because they’d left everything. They wanted to know, okay, so what’s our one thing? And Jesus said all things are possible with God. Not just possible to accomplish. Possible to transform. Possible to let go of. Possible to become whole despite.

    He doesn’t ask you to be perfect. He asks you to be all in. Not just close. Not just this close. All the way in.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • Following the Way

    Following the Way

    You know, we talk a lot in church about coming to the table, about communion being this family meal. I want to say that clearly. If you’re here and you say you follow Jesus, you’re invited. It doesn’t matter if you were baptized Methodist or anything else. If you’re trying to follow our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, this meal is for you. All of us. All ages, all conditions, all the mess we’re carrying.

    I think sometimes we miss how radical that is. In Jesus’ time, you didn’t just eat with anybody. There were rules about who sat with whom, who touched what, who could be at the table. And then Jesus says, no. This is a family meal. My family. Everyone in it.

    So when you come to communion here, you’re not joining a club. You’re not passing some test. You’re sitting down with family. And that family is bigger and stranger and more broken than you probably expected. But it’s your family if you want it to be.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Gift of Forgiveness (Romans 6)

    The Gift of Forgiveness (Romans 6)

    Romans 6:23 says that the wages we earn for our sin is death. It is a debt each of us must pay one way or another. But that verse goes on to say that God decided to give us a gift instead of death. We can accept the gift of eternal life because Jesus paid the debt for us when he took our sin to the cross.

    The old hymn says it: “Jesus paid it all, all to him I owe. Sin had left a crimson stain, but now I am white as snow.”

    Jesus became sinned for us so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. Scripture tells us that everything went dark as Jesus hung on the cross. The sun disappeared. He completed the sacrifice and yielded his life.

    The women who had followed him watched from a distance. Two influential but secret followers buried his body. A heavy stone rolled across the tomb’s entrance. But all that happened before Sunday came.

    We have been bought. Our freedom purchased with God’s grace. And there’s more to this abundant life we’ve received than just forgiveness. The Savior who made our future secure wants to make this life we live now something that brings him honor and glory.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope

  • The Heart of Prayer

    The Heart of Prayer

    For three years, Christ followers watched Jesus reach out to the poor and weak, heal the sick and dying, even bring the dead back to life. They heard him speak to the storm and watch the sea become still. They saw a small lunch become enough food to feed thousands on a hillside.

    And yet something even greater was happening. In every encounter Jesus took broken lives and made them whole. A woman who had exhausted every resource trying to find a cure for her disease touched his robe and was healed. Another who had searched for love in half a dozen failed relationships found his forgiveness. One who was facing death was given new life when Jesus rescued her.

    But a life of love had led Jesus not to admiration and applause but to suffering and death. He didn’t die by accident. It wasn’t a malicious plot that caught him off guard. Jesus laid down on the cross a willing sacrifice for us.

    And then Sunday came. The stone rolled away. The women arrived to hear the glorious news. Darkness had covered the earth. But the darkness of death could not cover the light of resurrection. He arose. Hallelujah, he arose.

    A reflection by Rev. MaryGean Cope