Forest Hills Mennonite Church

Jesus brings light to the world—and teaches us to see anew.

In John's Gospel, Jesus is the light of world, illuminating all things and bringing life. Throughout the season of Advent, we're reflecting on love's pure light.

Most people would define the good life as a happy life, yet many of us struggle to experience happiness. Maybe we can learn from the ancient wisdom of Christian practices of gratitude.

All of want things. But where do those desires come from? And what do we do with wants we don't want to have?

In urban design and landscape engineering, planners have to contend with a well-known aspect of human nature: people tend to go where they want and how they want. This leads to a phenomenon known as a “desire path,” where people remake the landscape by walking over it. So what should designers do? Plan a careful route, or accommodate people’s desires? The same tension holds true in Christian faith: we tend to orient our lives around what we want. If the Psalmist is correct, God desires to give us what we want—but only as we learn to recognize the God-centered nature of all desire.

In order to provide care, people have to recognize and guard against the pathogens we might encounter. Right now, our body politic seems to be infected with contempt. We all need some personal protective equipment.

We can know nearly anything at any time, and we often feel intense pressure—perhaps even an addiction?—to staying informed. Apostle Paul presents a startlingly different perspective, reminding the Christians in Corinth that when he was with them, he “decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” Is it possible for us to adopt of posture of care by knowing differently, or maybe even knowing a little bit less?

What does this cultural moment call for from us? How do followers of Jesus best engage and respond to a society that seems poised to tear itself to pieces? One possible response may be to actively adopt a posture of care—individual attention to each and every person we encounter.

Where does the Anabaptist stand within the great story of Christian orthodoxy? Perhaps the richest expressions of Anabaptism are the ones that cling most tightly to historic Christian faith.

The concept of "empathy" has been at the center of quite a bit of cultural discourse recently, with some people describing it as the "greatest weakness of Western civilization" and others calling it a "sin." The forth poem in Lamentations describes a community utterly bereft of empathy—and challenges us to consider what went wrong.

The Book of Lamentations emerges from nearly incomprehensible suffering, while challenging us to move beyond simplistic explanations for why suffering exists.

What do you do when your world falls apart? Is there space in the life of faith for the sad, sad songs? The Book of Lamentations offers a roadmap for responding to unspeakable tragedy.

Do you think the world is getting better or getting worse? Does your faith shape how you respond to that question? If the promise of Christian faith is neither the destruction of the world nor its natural improvement, what does our hope look like?

Understanding God's nature and character is one of the most important aspect of our formation as followers of Jesus.

If all the paths of God's wisdom are peace, what happens when we stray off that path? Drawing from the wisdom of Cyprian (who served as Bishop of Carthage about two hundred years after Jesus' resurrection), we reflect on the wilderness of war.

The Book of Proverbs personifies wisdom as a thoughtful, warm woman: "All her paths are peace." Angelina Atyam, a midwife in Northern Uganda, offers presents a powerful example of what a life looks like when we follow wisdom—and follow Jesus—in these paths of peace.

Christy and Peter reflect on their work in Central Africa and the ways that Jesus wants to use our small acts of faithfulness to accomplish incredible things.

In the aftermath of the resurrection, two disciples look Jesus right in his eyes—but fail to recognize him. If we're serious about faithfully following Jesus, maybe we need to confront the things that make it difficult for us to recognize him.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer famously said that "When Christ calls someone, he bids them come and die." If Bonhoeffer is right, how can we claim that Christian faith is good news? Perhaps it's because Easter changes everything.

As Jesus enters into Jerusalem, is he acting as an authoritative king or a humble servant? Maybe the paradox of Palm Sunday is that as we follow Jesus, we see that he's both—at exactly the same time.