When God Steps Into View

Have you ever desperately wanted to see God? Not just believe in Him—but see Him? I have. Sometimes I imagine it like Moses at the burning bush: awe falling on you like lightning, the air cracking with holiness. Moses saw the fire, heard the voice—and came down glowing so brightly they made him wear a veil. People couldn’t handle the afterglow.

But in Luke 3, something even more astonishing happens. At the Jordan River, one man—John the Baptist—witnesses something no other human being has ever seen before or since. Heaven doesn’t just whisper. It opens. And God steps into view.

All at once, the Trinity comes into focus:

• The Son rises from the waters—Jesus, flesh and bone, soaked in our humanity

• The Spirit descends gently, visibly, like a dove gliding through sunlight.

• The Father speaks from above with thunderous tenderness: “You are my beloved Son; in you I am well pleased.”

It’s the closest we’ve ever come to seeing God with our eyes open. It was, as theologians later called it, the clearest glimpse of the mystery we call the Trinity—not three gods, but one God in three persons. Hard to grasp? Of course. But necessary. Because if we can’t imagine God loving, sending, dwelling, and delighting—then we’ve seen only a sliver of who He really is.

Jesus shows us what God looks like in skin and sandals. No wonder I’ve heard atheists say, “If God is anything like Jesus—I might believe in Him.”

C.S. Lewis once said, “If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”

God doesn’t fit in our pockets. But sometimes, like He did at the Jordan, He shows up in a way that we cannot ignore.

I like the story:

A man said, “Pastor, I want to see God. Just one time. Face to face.”

The pastor said, “Well, are you really sure you are ready for such a divine encounter with a personal Epiphany?

The man replied, “Let me pray about it.”

Two minutes later, he peeked one eye open and whispered, “Okay, maybe just a strong feeling and a goosebump.”

This Sunday, I get to preach on this very moment. I’d love to have you join us—either in person or online—as we look at what it means to “see” God now. Not just in the skies, but in the pages of Scripture, in the face of Christ, and maybe even in each other.

Your friend for the rest of my life,

Pastor Tim White

The Parable of the Persistent Widow

A man once said, “I gave up jogging because it was making the ice in my glass clink too loudly.”

Some of us have the same approach to prayer. We say we want intimacy with God, the kind of life that hears His voice and sees His hand—then we quit too soon because it rattles the ice in our comfort. It stirs us up. It takes too long. And we prefer microwave answers to crockpot wisdom.

But in Luke 18, Jesus tells a story about a woman who didn’t quit. She was a widow. No husband. No lawyer. No leverage. Just a cause, a complaint, and calluses on her knuckles from knocking.

She kept coming to a judge who “neither feared God nor cared what people thought.” In other words, the kind of man who wouldn’t open the door even if the house were on fire—unless it was his own.

And yet… she wore him down. She didn’t charm him, or bribe him, or flatter him. She just kept showing up. Not because she believed in the judge, but because she believed in justice.

Jesus tells us this parable “so that we ought always to pray and not lose heart.” He’s not saying God is like the judge—He’s saying He’s not. God doesn’t delay because He’s cruel, but because He’s crafting something holy in us while we wait.

“Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul…” — Emily Dickinson

Persistent prayer is feathered with hope. It perches in our soul and sings even when the windows are shut, and the winds howl, and no answer has arrived.

The widow’s faith wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t dignified. But it was real. She kept asking not because she was religious—but because she believed something true and refused to let it go.

So, you who are tired…

You who are still praying for the child to come home, the diagnosis to change, the silence to break—

Don’t lose heart.

The door will open.

 Prayer: Lord, help me pray like the widow—without giving up, without dressing up, without letting go. I trust You, even in the silence. Give me the kind of faith that knocks until grace answers. Amen.

Closing Thought: The persistent widow was not a hero because she was strong. She was a saint because she stayed.

Pastor Jonte’s sermon this Sunday is going to be insightful you don’t want to miss it!

Your friend for life,

Pastor Tim

Flipping the Script: Living Out Radical Love

Scripture: Luke 15:1–5

“Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’

Then Jesus told them this parable: ‘Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders…’”

There’s a kind of holiness that keeps its robes clean and its hands in its pockets — the kind that crosses the street when it sees trouble limping along the sidewalk. That was the religion of the Pharisees. They drew lines in the sand and dared sinners to cross them. But then came Jesus, wild-eyed with mercy, calling the unworthy to dinner, and kicking over the chalk lines of respectability.

Jesus didn’t just welcome sinners. He ate with them. In the ancient world, sharing a meal wasn’t just about food. It meant friendship. Acceptance. Solidarity. And to the pious onlookers, that was scandal enough to grind their teeth to dust.

So Jesus flipped the script.

He told a story. A shepherd — gritty, wind-chapped, tough as barbed wire — notices one sheep gone missing. He doesn’t sit there counting his losses or figuring percentages. He goes. Through thorns, over hills, across ravines. And when he finds the lost one, he doesn’t scold it. He lifts it. Joyfully. Slings it across his shoulders like a precious burden.

It was the same with the woman and the lost coin, and the father with the prodigal son. Same story, three times: God isn’t waiting for you to grovel your way back. He’s coming for you. With love that hunts. A joy that lifts. A grace that refuses to give up.

The world still hasn’t caught up. We keep drawing lines — between the holy and the broken, the worthy and the shamed. We act like we’ve earned our place at the table, when the truth is, not one of us got here by being good enough. As C.S. Lewis once said, “A cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute.”

I remember when I was a young seminary student, there was this heated debate about something called “second-degree separation.” It meant not only should Christians stay clear of the world, but they should also avoid other Christians who weren’t separate enough from the world.

I saw this play out firsthand when I was heading off to study at the University of Jerusalem. One of my closest friends — a man whose heart was cracked wide open by a brutal divorce — came with me. Some folks who believed in second-degree separation wouldn’t talk to me because I was still talking to him. As if grace had limits. As if mercy had conditions. At the time, I thought, This can’t be what Jesus meant by holiness.

This Sunday, Pastor Mark is leading us in flipping the script. Reclaiming a Jesus-shaped vision of love — the kind that doesn’t flinch at messiness, doesn’t pull away from the hurting, and doesn’t treat people like spiritual contagions.

So come. Bring your bruises, your doubts, your weariness — and maybe a friend or two who’s felt left out of church too long. Jesus has a seat at the table for them. For you. For us all.

And remember: even sheep who wander off still belong to the Shepherd.

Oh, and if you’re worried about being the one lost sheep, just know — you’re in good company. At least you’re not the guy who tried to baptize a cat. That didn’t go well. (Don’t ask. Trust me.)

See you Sunday at 10:30.

Your friend for the rest of my life,

Pastor Tim White

A Father’s Blessing

“Esau said to his father, ‘Do you have only one blessing, my father? Bless me too, my father!’ Then Esau wept aloud.” —Genesis 27:38

Out in the wild, when a wolf pup yelps, the pack turns. When a lion cub strays, the pride notices. In the animal kingdom, fathers defend, feed, and fight for their young. But here in the world of men? Sometimes sons cry out for blessing… and the silence echoes back.

Esau wasn’t a weak man. He was the kind of man who could break a yoke with his bare shoulders. But in this moment, he’s not in a wrestling game in the field—he’s weeping for his father’s words. A blessing. A single spoken affirmation of his worth. And what he hears is heartbreakingly close to nothing.

Men, we know the truth in our bones: God longs to bless all His children—it’s in His nature. And fathers? We’re called to echo that divine blessing. Not with perfection, but with courage and conviction. Every child deserves to hear, “You matter. I am behind you. I see something great in you.”

But some of us were never blessed. We grew up on scraps of approval and cold winds of criticism. Some of us still ache for what was never said.

Here’s the good news: it’s not too late. If you’re a dad, keep the blessing rolling. If you’re a father figure, step up. And if you’re carrying that old ache like Esau, come find healing. It can start this Sunday.

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” —Frederick Douglass

Join us this Father’s Day at 10:30 AM. Pastor Michael Fernandez will bring a message that could help you speak the words that change a life—and maybe even heal your own.

Your friend for the rest of my life,

Pastor Tim White

Living Life with Spirit

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place.” — Acts 2:1

Ever tried to ride a dead horse? Of course not. But we’ve all been there—strapping on the saddle, digging in our heels, shouting “Giddy-up!” to something long past its expiration date.

You’re leading a class, and no one dreams anymore. They’re scrolling through life like ghosts with glowing thumbs. You’re steering a team, but instead of catching your fire, they’re quietly hoping you cool off. You’re trying to take your business to the next level, but the crew’s still polishing trophies from a decade ago.

That’s life without Spirit. And you can’t ride that horse.

You can’t make your kids love school when their hearts are unplugged. You try to build a better marriage, but it feels like learning to dance in a fog, with lead boots. You show up at church, and instead of Pentecost fire, you get lukewarm coffee and polite yawns.

The truth is, we don’t need more clever plans or motivational speeches. We need wind. Fire. Breath. We need Spirit.

Pentecost was no quiet moment. It was a wildfire of heaven breaking loose. And it’s not just a story from the past—it’s an invitation for now. Because when the Spirit comes, dry bones dance. Old dreams rise. Dead horses? Suddenly gallop.

Join us this Sunday at 10:30 a.m. Pastor Mark is bringing the match! Let’s stop dragging what’s dead and start living what’s alive.

Quote of the Day:

“Without the Spirit of God, we can do nothing. We are as ships without wind. We are useless.” — Charles Spurgeon

Joke of the Day:

What do you call a church with no Holy Spirit?

A Christian Book Club with snacks.

See you Sunday.

Your friend for the rest of my life,

Pastor Tim White

The Rich Fool

This Sunday, we’re in for a special treat — Pastor Paul, the mentor who first called Pastor Mark into ministry at Rainier Avenue Church, will be preaching on a powerful and sobering passage: The Parable of the Rich Fool.

Jesus tells of a man who had everything — a booming harvest, barns full to bursting, and big plans to build even bigger ones. He had it all… except the one thing that mattered. A rich soul.

Jesus doesn’t condemn planning or productivity. He doesn’t criticize farmers or entrepreneurs. He warns against greed that forgets God, wealth that insulates us from wonder, and comfort that cancels our calling.

“Life is not measured by how much you own.” (Luke 12:15)

This parable hits home — especially for those of us living in relative wealth. Most of us have a roof, clean water, a fridge, a phone, a car — luxuries by global standards. But Jesus isn’t just talking to billionaires. He’s talking to all of us who are tempted to measure our lives by square footage, bank balances, or five-year plans instead of the depth of our trust and the generosity of our hearts.

As someone once said:  “You never see a U-Haul being buried next to a grave.

You can’t take it with you. And yet, how many of us live like we’re packing for the afterlife?

C.S. Lewis once wrote:  “He who has God and everything else has no more than he who has God only.” In other words, if you have God, you’re already rich.

Lord, teach us not to measure our lives by what we own, but by how well we know You. Keep our hearts soft, our hands open, and our faith rich. Amen.

We look forward to seeing you Sunday as Pastor Paul brings a word that promises to challenge, encourage, and re-center us around what really matters. Bring your Bible, bring a friend, and an expectation of blessing.

Your friend for the rest of my life,

Pastor Tim White

Flipping the Script: Living Out Radical Love Part 2

“He answered, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” - Luke 10:27

Years ago, two young men from our church were graduating high school and received a small inheritance—just enough for a quick three-day trip to Hawaii. They had never traveled before, and you can imagine their excitement!

Both were athletes. One was a runner, and the other, a basketball player. They each set off on their own to explore the island through exercise. The basketball player, ever committed, decided to run the stairs of their hotel for his workout. But when he finished, he realized something horrible—he had locked himself in the stairwell.

He pounded on the door. He yelled. People passed by, but no one stopped. Maybe they thought he was a troublemaker or just didn’t want to get involved. But he figured, “At least my best friend will notice I’m missing and come look for me.”

Hours passed. Finally, his friend emerged from their room—but walked right by the door without so much as a glance. The trapped young man screamed and pounded on the window. Still—nothing.

Eventually, at midnight, a hotel employee rescued him. But by then, the damage to their friendship was done. They didn’t speak for a year.

That’s the story of the Good Samaritan in reverse.

Jesus told us to love God with everything we’ve got—and to love our neighbor as ourselves. But how often do we walk by those in need, not out of cruelty, but out of distraction, discomfort, or convenience? Radical love flips the script. It listens when others walk by. It looks when others turn away. It stops. It helps. It pays the price.

As C.S. Lewis once said, “Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person’s ultimate good as far as it can be obtained.”

And maybe this goes without saying—but if your best friend gets trapped in a stairwell, at least look!

Join us this Memorial Sunday as we remember not only those who’ve sacrificed for us, but also our calling to live out Jesus’ command—to love big, to love radically, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

And yes, we’ll also be flipping the script on your appetite—with a chicken dinner potluck after service. Because love shows up with casseroles, too.

Your friend for the rest of my life,

Pastor Tim White

Flipping the Script: Living Out Radical Love

“The seed that fell among thorns stands for those who hear, but as they go on their way they are choked by life’s worries, riches and pleasures, and they do not mature. But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop.” —Luke 8:14–15

Jesus never played by the world’s rules. He flipped the script, over and over again—placing the crown not on the powerful but on the humble, not on the loud but on the faithful, not on the platform but in the dirt where seeds take root and grow.

In the Parable of the Sower, Jesus isn’t just talking about agriculture. He’s talking about us—about the condition of our hearts and the daily choices we make to let God’s Word grow deep and real within us. Life throws thorns—worry, wealth, comfort, fear—but Jesus calls us to cultivate something different: radical love, faithful service, and quiet perseverance.

And let me tell you, when I think of all the incredible knights in shining armor God has placed in our midst, I’m moved to tears. People like Toni Othieno, Tony Woods, Duff Simpson, Frank Eaton, Violet, Emily Boyce, Don James, Joanne Vath, Jane Bishop, Scott Nicholls and Marcy Marquez. None of them went looking for applause—they just lived the gospel. And in doing so, they surprised the heck out of everyone. That’s what good soil does, it bears unexpected, world-changing fruit.

Luke also reminds us of something quietly revolutionary: women—often overlooked and undervalued in Jesus’ time—were front and center in His ministry. Mary Magdalene, who had every reason to shrink into the shadows, instead becomes the first to witness and proclaim the risen Christ. That tells us something huge: Proclaiming the gospel isn’t just for preachers—it’s for everyone who dares to follow him.

So maybe the question today isn’t just, “What kind of soil am I?” Maybe it’s, “Who around me needs their story heard? Whose voice needs lifting? What love can I plant today?”

Quote of the Day:

“Do small things with great love.” —Mother Teresa

Joke of the Day:

Why did the seed go to church?

Because it needed a little spiritual growth! Okay, not funny but funny because it’s not funny 😄

Let’s be people who practice heaven now. Let’s listen closely, love deeply, and live like Jesus really meant it.

Your friend for the rest of my life,

Pastor Tim White

Mother’s Day Is Inspirational

“As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted over Jerusalem.” —Isaiah 66:13

Isn’t it amazing that in this verse, God actually compares Himself to a mother? That’s one of the highest honors motherhood could receive. When you think of the very best qualities of a mother—her comfort, strength, patience, sacrifice—you’re getting a glimpse into the heart of God.

When I think of mothers, I think of my own mom and Jackie’s mom. I think of my grandmothers—Betty and Ione. Grandma Betty was so kind and gracious that, believe it or not, when Jackie Kennedy was in town and had a wardrobe malfunction, she came to my grandmother’s house to fix it! That’s just how welcoming and wonderful my grandma was. And Grandma Ione? She was one of the first female ordained pastors in the Methodist Church. Talk about trailblazers.

I think of Anne Nsimbi—what a role model. Jennifer Eaton—an amazing mom. Diana Smith and Jeanne Sutten—accomplished mothers who’ve raised incredible families. And Pastor Linda, who has mothered so many in our church through the years. She’s one of the secret superpowers of Washington Cathedral.

God says, “You want to understand Me? Think about mothers.” Long before society ever debated the role of women, God was already showing us that the nurturing strength of a mother reflects His own character.

So, this Sunday, let’s decide to make Mother’s Day truly inspirational. Join us at 10:30 AM as Anne Nsimbi, Jordan Hoover, and Kristy Dykes share their hearts in a powerful celebration of motherhood.

Here’s a quote to carry with you this week:

“God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.” —Rudyard Kipling

And just to leave you smiling:

Why did the baby strawberry cry?

Because his mom was in a jam.

Your friend for the rest of my life,

Pastor Tim White

God Provides—If We Work with Him

The exciting thing for us today is that we can all live better lives. Yes, things can get better if we follow our creator’s advice. And this week we have a world-class speaker to give us the advice we need.

The seventh chapter of 1 Samuel gives us a look at an old war-scarred prophet named Samuel. A man who’d walked with God since boyhood and bore the weathered voice of someone who’d seen his share of broken covenants and bitter mornings.

“Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, ‘Thus far the Lord has helped us.’” —1 Samuel 7:12

Ebenezer means “stone of help.” Samuel raised it like a battle flag—half gratitude, half testimony. Life with God doesn’t mean fewer battles. It means you’re not swinging alone. And when you’ve got a mile of scars and a few victories behind you, sometimes you stop, stack a stone, and say, “Look here. We made it this far. By His help.”

God’s way doesn’t promise ease. It promises better. Families built on love, honesty, and sacrifice—better. Businesses run with integrity—better. Churches that love the least and walk humbly—better. And even when the storm hits—and it will—you’ll find you’re lashed to something unshakable.

There are always shortcuts. Dishonesty, betrayal, manipulation. The world hands out shovels and says, “Dig here, it’s faster.” But fast isn’t always wise. Or lasting. Or right.

God provides—when we work with Him.

This Sunday, we’re going to hear from someone who has stacked more than a few Ebenezers of her own. A woman whose boots have walked the back roads of children’s ministry in 40 countries. A pastor. A missionary. A leader with fire in her bones.

Rev. Alma Thompson, the ICCM Global Director of the Free Methodist Church, will be preaching with us. Since 2019, she’s led International Child Care Ministries—an organization that now supports over 50,000 children around the world through sponsorships, scholarships, and gospel-rooted community work. She doesn’t just believe in the next generation—she builds bridges for them with grit, grace, and a deep trust in God’s provision.

She and her husband, Rev. Brent Thompson (Ohio Conference Superintendent), serve together, lifting up the church both in the U.S. and abroad. From the dirt roads of mission fields to the boardrooms of strategy, she’s been a voice for the voiceless and a guide for those of us who still believe in God’s better way.

Come ready. Come open. And maybe bring a stone in your pocket—just in case you need to raise your own Ebenezer.

See you Sunday!

Your friend always,

Pastor Tim White