My dog, Dursey, is a vizsla. His breed is known as “velcro” dogs because they love to be with their human at all times. They’re prone to separation anxiety when they feel apart from their human. 

 

So, once Dursey was eight weeks old, I began by training him to be separated from me by leaving him in a kennel for 45 minutes -- a blink of an eye to us, but an eternity to a puppy.

 

The kennel had comfortable bedding, toys, water, food -- all the signs that might Dursey know he is loved and his needs will be met. On day one of our training, I latched the kennel and drove to town for groceries. Forty-five minutes later, I was met in the driveway by neighbors, who had sitting inside their homes, listening to Dursey howl, bark and yelp for 45 minutes. Non-Stop.

 

I explained the training regimen and I persisted. A week later, I increased our separation time by 15 minutes. The neighbors who lived closest to me went camping for the weekend. 


Last week, we heard the story of Abraham and his first-born son, Ishmael. This week, we hear the story of the child born to Abraham and Sarah, Isaac.  These two stories are presented back-to-back in Genesis: Chapter 21 and then Chapter 22. They should be read and interpreted together, because they are intentionally parallel stories. 

 

In both stories, God is testing Abraham. 

 

God had entered into a covenant with Abraham and Sarah.  Though Sarah was barren and elderly, Yahweh promised that she would bear a son and Yahweh would bless her son.  But it didn’t happen quickly enough for Sarah…she began to lose confidence that Yahweh would deliver. So, she convinced Abraham to have a child with her servant Hagar. This child was named Ishmael. 

 

The first story, Genesis Chapter 21, is known as the sending of Ishmael. Sarah tells Abraham that he must send Ishmael, still a child, into the desert. Abraham believes Ishmael and his mother Hagar will die in the desert. He was very upset. Abraham loves these people. God responds to Abraham’s despair:  Do as Sarah says. “Because Ishmael is your child, I will make a nation of him.” Abraham sends Ishmael and Hagar into the desert.

 

The second test of Abraham, today’s reading, is known as the binding of Isaac. After the birth of Ishmael, Sarah and Abraham have a son who was named Isaac. Yahweh tells Abraham to take his only son Isaac, whom he loves, to a faraway place. There Abraham will offer his son as a burnt offering. Abraham gets up the next morning, and begins the journey. The firewood is assembled, Isaac is bound to it, and Abraham is ready to do the deed when God finally intervenes. 


During the first three weeks of my dog’s training, when I got home and opened the kennel gate Dursey would pour himself into my arms, whimpering. It was as if he was saying, “Please don’t go away. Please don’t go away.”   

 

But a curious thing happened during the fourth week.  One day I came home, opened the gate, and Dursey bounced into my arms, licked my chin and headed for the door. He rang the bells that tell me to open the door and he ran to the flower pot where I keep a tennis ball for play time. He dropped the ball at my feet and started the Dursey dance, “throw the ball, throw the ball, throw the ball.” From that day, this is how I’m greeted every time I come home.

 

Over the course of our training, the kennel did not change and my behavior pattern did not change. Each time I left, Dursey was surrounded by the same signs of love in his kennel. And each time I came home, I opened the gate and loved on him.

 

What changed in week four, was Dursey’s response to the experience.

 

He grew in trust.


In Genesis, there was a change in Abraham’s behavior that piqued my curiosity.

 

 

1.   In Chapter 21, the sending of Ishmael, Abraham is very emotional.  He is distraught. And Yahweh is compassionate…he assures Abraham that Ishmael will be the father of a nation. It will all be ok.

 

2.   But in the second test, the binding of Isaac, Abraham shows no emotion. None. And there is no compassionate assurance from Yahweh.

 

God calls to Abraham three times in today’s reading. Each time Abraham says the same three words: “Here I am.” 

 

 

Something happened between Chapter 21 and Chapter 22:  Abraham was changed.

 

He no longer needed God to reassure him that all would be well. When God called Abraham, his only response was: “Here I am”. And then he began walking toward God’s calling on his life.


 

Like Abraham and Dursey, we are tested on a regular basis. Dursey learned to trust through consistent experience with his human. Abraham learned to trust Yahweh through experience and faith.

 

Usually, the tests we face are little things. Sometimes, they’re big things. And every now and then, they are life-changing events that we can only comprehend through faith.

 

We don’t know the future for ourselves or our parish: twenty years from now or even 20 minutes from now. But we do know that God surrounds us at St. Christopher’s with signs of God’s love for us. 

 

God is present here: In us and through us.

 

There is so much hope in this place. You can feel it. Hope isn’t buried in the walls, or the pews, or the flooring.  Hope is inside you…and me.  We are signs to the world—and to one another--of God’s hope, love, and peace. 

 

Every time St. Chris meets a challenge with those three words, “Here I am,” we are changed. We grow in faith and courage. This is a place where Holy Boldness is chosen and lived.

 

We are ready for whatever is next.

 

Throw the ball, God. Throw the ball.

 

Here we are.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Paula Jefferson November 2, 2025
It has only been a few months since we last heard this particular Gospel reading. While I was driving up and down Highway 35 last week, I thought about how we might approach the text differently…especially on All Saints Sunday. This is the day we remember all the faithful people who have gone before us…ordinary and extraordinary folks who lived lives of love, mercy, courage and hope. I began with questions: Who is a saint? Who is not a saint? The second question is much easier to answer. We can all think of people throughout history who would definitely not fit any definition of sainthood. But the other question is harder. It brought to mind a character who wears a red suit, big white beard, moves around in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. Santa Claus is an icon of generosity. But is that the fullness of a saintly life? We often admire people for what shines outwardly: strength, beauty, power, fame, athleticism, traveling the globe on Christmas Eve delivering millions of gifts…because that stuff is easy to see and easy to glorify. But Luke is reminding us that true blessedness looks very different…it is found in the poor, the hungry, those who mourn. Blessed are those who are rejected or marginalized because they embody love…feeding the hungry, forgiving enemies, speaking truth to power. Paraphrasing Jesus: Blessed are you who are living in such a way that your life looks like mine. So what are the signs of a Christ-shaped--or saintly--life? To answer that, I drew from Jesus’s sermon on the Plain and a few well-known saints. 1. Humility —Jesus said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” Richard Foster devoted his life to guiding Christians into deeper spiritual formation. He described humility as the freedom to see ourselves truthfully, to rely fully on God, and to serve others without seeking recognition. [1] Humility reflects the blessedness of those who recognize their dependence on God. 2. Courage —Jesus said, “But I say to you who hear: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” Dietrich Bonhoeffer devoted his life to following Christ faithfully in a world that was in moral and political crisis. He said that moral courage is nurtured in the context of faithful Christian community. Courage is faithfully doing what is right, trusting God’s guidance, even when it costs us. [2] His moral courage exemplifies living faithfully in the face of evil. 3. Joy —Jesus said, “Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied…Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.” Henri Nouwen devoted his life to helping others encounter God’s love through prayer, presence, and compassionate service…especially alongside the most vulnerable among us. He said that joy does not simply happen to us. We have to choose joy and keep choosing it every day. It is a choice based in the knowledge that we belong to God and have found in God our refuge and our safety and that nothing, not even death, can take God away from us. [3] 4. Love and mercy in action — Jesus said, “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” Mother Teresa devoted her life to making Christ’s love tangible through service to the poorest, sickest, and most marginalized people in the world. For her, love was not an abstract idea—it was what you do with your hands and heart every day. She incarnated mercy in action, making tangible the call to bless and serve others. 5. Faithfulness in difficulty —Jesus said, “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man.” Martin Luther King, Jr. devoted his life to pursuing justice and equality through nonviolence and love rooted in faith and moral conviction. He said, “The ultimate measure of a [person] is not where they stand in moments of comfort and convenience, but where they stand at times of challenge and controversy.” [4] His nonviolent witness and moral perseverance reflect Jesus’ promise of blessing for those who are persecuted and remain steadfast in their faith. There’s something of a paradox here that drew my attention. Each of these Christ-shaped lives emerged in response to real suffering, injustice or need. If Christianity had not moved through a period of superficial evangelism in the 20 th Century, we would not know Richard Foster. Without Adolf Hitler and the evil that surrounded him, we would not know Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s name. He would be a little-known academician teaching systematic theology. Without societies that toss aside people with disabilities, Henri Nouwen would have been a Roman Catholic priest none of us knew. Without human class systems that devalue whole groups of people, Mother Teresa would not be a household name. Without systemic racism, Martin Luther King, Jr. would have been a Baptist preacher in an Atlanta Church. We would not know his name. Each of these people responded to the wounds and injustices they saw in their own time in their own backyard. They took up the cross of love and carried it just a little farther. And I wonder if that quality is the benchmark of sainthood? As I look around this congregation, I see 100 saints: people who walk into classrooms every day, prepared to teach growing minds; people who walk with friends going through difficulties like loss of memory; people who feed the hungry: with meals on wheels, Union Gospel Mission, food pantries in Fort worth, and in leper colonies far away; people who make bed rolls for the homeless; Sunday School teachers who faithfully prepare to help children, youth, and adults grow in faith. People who extend hospitality to us and to St. Matthew’s and to families who gather here to celebrate the lives of their saints. Friends, we live in a very challenging era of American life. Everywhere we look, we see signs of division, misunderstanding, and an inability to work together for the common good. It is, I think, a reflection of a deep dysfunction in our culture….an incapacity to listen well, to negotiate in good faith, and to compromise for the sake of the whole. In times like this, the calling of the Church is extraordinary. We are called to embody the values of God’s reign: faithfulness, humility, courage, joy, and love---showing the world what it means to live differently, even when society struggles to do so. We, too, must take up the cross of love in our own lives, carrying it just a little farther each day. And as we do, we join the great communion of saints who have walked before us, who have borne witness to God’s love in times of trial, and who now cheer us on as we continue the journey. [1] Richard J Foster; Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth [2] Dietrich Bonhoeffer; Life Together [3] Henri Nouwen; Spirituality & Practice [4] Martin Luther King, Jr; Strength to Love 1963
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