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This past Sunday, we continued our sermon series on "Cultivating Fruits of the Spirit." In her sermon, Pastor Alison explored how some of the cultural messaging we receive around Generosity — like through popular children's books such as The Rainbow Fish and The Giving Tree -- can be confusing and at times problematic. Both The Rainbow Fish and The Giving Tree would lead us to believe that we should strive to be generous no matter the cost to our own well-being. That we should always say yes to helping others no matter what. But the problem is, pursuing generosity in this way is unsustainable. If we give in this way, over time, we will inevitably become burnt out, angry, and resentful — unable to embody the freedom and warmheartedness that true generosity entails. As we seek more sustainable perspectives on generosity, Alison encouraged us to consider the work of playwright and screenwriter Topher Payne. As part of a fundraiser for The Atlanta Artist Relief Fund, Payne created a series called “topher fixed it” where he created what he called “parody alternate endings to beloved but problematic children's literature.” For example, in these thought-provoking works The Rainbow Fish became The Rainbow Fish Keeps His Scales, and The Giving Tree became The Tree Who Set Healthy Boundaries. We encourage you to give these parodies a read and to consider the ways they challenge popular cultural understandings of generosity!
If it’s not through sheer willpower or by saying yes to every request, then how do we cultivate generosity in our lives?
To help answer this question, Pastor Alison drew upon the work of shame and vulnerability researcher Brené Brown. Brown and her team spent years studying compassionate, generous people. Going in, Brown’s hypothesis was that what compassionate, generous people have in common is faith or spirituality. But the pattern in the research data showed something else. Brown discovered that what compassionate, generous people actually have in common is boundaries. They respect other people’s boundaries and they are very clear about identifying, communicating, and enforcing their own. In Brown’s own words, “They assume that other people are doing the best they can, but they also ask for what they need, and they don’t put up with a lot of shit.” Brown defines boundaries in a couple of ways. The first is “boundaries are what’s okay and what’s not okay.” So, what am I okay with? What allows me to live in integrity with my values? And what am I not okay with? What prevents me from living in integrity with my values? And, borrowing from Prentis Hemphill, the second way Brown defines boundaries is: “boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously.” So, in other words, how do I actually live out Jesus’s Greatest Commandment to “love your neighbor as yourself”? How do I go about loving my neighbor and loving myself at the same time? According to Brown, boundaries are what help us to live out of a place of freedom. To be able to release our death grip on any number of things — our time, our resources, our sense of righteousness — and open our hands instead. Being open-handed does not mean that we automatically say yes or give what we are holding away. But it does mean that we are more able to make purposeful choices about how we want to be compassionate and generous. That there is more room to consider, both for ourselves and for our neighbors: What will bring love? What will bring joy? What will bring life? To be intentional about what we hold onto and what we release. What do you think about this idea that boundaries and generosity are connected? Is this something you have thought about before? To explore these ideas further, we encourage you to take some time to consider the resources listed below:
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This past Sunday, we continued our sermon series on Cultivating Fruits of the Spirit by focusing on Peace. We looked at Psalm 23, one of the most beloved and comforting passages in Scripture — but we explored it not as a static promise of stillness, but as a prayer we return to in the middle of real life.
Peace, we said, isn’t the absence of struggle. It’s something we carry through struggle. It’s found when we know who our Shepherd is, even when the path winds through valleys and shadows. To help us reflect on the tension between peace and progress, we turned to the discography of Jay-Z, who quotes Psalm 23 twice in his music. We listened to six songs and considered how his career arc might help us to reflect on the three visions of God put forward in the Psalm:
Jay-Z’s story helped us wrestle with the search for peace in a world driven by hustle, injustice, and change. It reminded us that praying the psalms doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine — it means bringing our whole selves to God, trusting that peace is found not by escaping life, but by walking through it with God. If you’re looking to go deeper this week, here are three resources that explore the power of the Psalms — and how they speak into our world today: 📘 Praying the Psalms by Thomas Merton Thomas Merton was an American Trappist monk, writer, theologian, mystic, poet, social activist, and scholar of comparative religion. In this short but powerful book, he begins by asking: Why has the Church always considered the Psalms her most perfect book of prayer? Merton’s answer is that the psalms are not ancient and dusty — they are young, full of purity, sincerity, and spiritual vitality. He sees them as the means of full participation in the liturgy and the deepening of one’s interior life. Merton invites us to set aside modern prejudices and recover a more contemplative posture — praying the psalms not just with our minds, but with our souls. He believes that in the Psalms, Christ prays in us, and we are united with Him in praise, lament, and longing. The second half of the book walks through key psalms and invites us into their world, not just for study, but for transformation. It’s a wonderful read for anyone curious about how to pray the psalms not as poetry, but as spiritual practice. 📘 Psalms of My People: A Story of Black Liberation as Told through Hip Hop by Lenny Duncan In this powerful and creative work, black trans Lutheran pastor Lenny Duncan treats hip-hop as sacred scripture. Through exegetical reflection and stunning artwork, Duncan explores how artists like Tupac, Lauryn Hill, and Jay-Z are modern-day psalmists, giving voice to the pain and hope of Black America. This book is a brilliant companion to Psalm 23 — especially if you're interested in how music, race, and theology intersect. Duncan’s thesis is bold and deeply moving: if we want to understand the Black experience in the U.S., we must understand hip-hop. It is, in their words, “a conduit to tell the modern story of Black liberation.” 📰 “Jay-Z on Therapy, Marriage, and Being a Black Man in America” (Interview by Dean Baquet, The New York Times) This long-form interview offers a rare, vulnerable look at Jay-Z’s evolution as an artist, husband, and human being. Baquet (then executive editor of The New York Times) asks thoughtful questions about race, identity, therapy, and legacy. Jay-Z reflects candidly on his childhood, his marriage, the weight of Black celebrity, and the spiritual cost of hustle culture. If you were intrigued by the sermon’s use of Jay-Z’s music to explore Psalm 23, this interview offers rich context for how his life mirrors the psalmist’s journey — from green pastures to dark valleys and back again. Peace isn’t something we stumble upon. It’s something we cultivate — with honesty, prayer, art, and reflection. This week, may these resources give you new language for the journey and remind you that even in the midst of chaos, God is still leading us beside still waters. Most of the time when we think about Patience we are thinking about the ability to wait well. But is that all there is to it? In her sermon this past Sunday, Pastor Alison explored a deeper meaning of patience, "quality of suffering," rooted in the word's etymology. Patience is certainly about waiting well — after all, waiting can be a form of suffering — however, it's also about much more than that. As much as we may wish it weren’t so, suffering is an inescapable part of the human experience. No matter how hard we may try to avoid it, in the end, in one way or another, suffering touches us all. Many of us here in this community — in New York City, in our country, and around the world — are hurting right now, for reasons personal and public, individual and systemic. And so it seems that there is great value in considering how to suffer well. How to improve the quality of our suffering. Not to prove our mettle or our holiness, but for the sake of unconditional love. So that we may be more able to show up for ourselves and for others in the midst of pain. In order to improve the quality of our suffering, Pastor Alison encouraged us to practice sitting with and welcoming all of our emotions — especially the ones that seem difficult, overwhelming, embarrassing, or shameful. She also spoke about the practice of acceptance (in times when we cannot change our circumstances) and the ways that it differs from approval. For example, we can accept that we are experiencing an emotion without believing that it is pleasant or comfortable. And we can accept that a situation cannot be changed without saying that it is good. Two resources that can help us with these practices are a poem by Rumi called "The Guest House" and the famous Serenity Prayer. We encourage you to spend some time this week reflecting on the poem; sitting with your emotions; and praying for more serenity, courage, and wisdom in your life! May we grow together in patience — the quality of our suffering — so that we may love ourselves and others more deeply.
 On Sunday, Maddie preached about how comedy helps us to navigate the tension between Joy and all the reasons why we shouldn't feel it. In a moment when there are so many reasons not to be joyful, humor can help us to see another perspective that God is offering us. Sometimes taking ourselves less seriously can allow us to respond to our circumstances with more grace — for ourselves, for other people, and for the rest of God's creation.
This week's two resources build on these themes: an article about how we might read the book of Esther as a satire and a comedy special that navigates the tension between joy and deep personal pain. Our first resource is an article in the Christian Century by Pastor Debbie Blue about the book of Esther. On Sunday, we looked at how many scholars read the book of Jonah as a satire. In this article Pastor Blue explores why we might read the book of Esther similarly. The Book of Esther tells the story of a Jewish woman named Esther who becomes queen of Persia and, with the help of her cousin Mordecai, courageously thwarts a plot by the king’s advisor Haman to annihilate the Jewish people. Though God is never mentioned explicitly, the narrative highlights themes of divine providence, hidden identity, and courageous advocacy. The Jewish festival of Purim commemorates this dramatic deliverance and celebrates survival through cunning, bravery, and solidarity. According to Pastor Blue, the book of Esther is a comic farce that mocks imperial power, gendered expectations, and human egotism through exaggerated characters, bawdy humor, and absurd political drama. Rather than offering solemn moral lessons or divine mandates, it invites readers to laugh at the powerful, question the pretensions of empire, and find grace in human courage and wit. Purim, the festival inspired by Esther, preserves this spirit of joyful subversion — celebrating hiddenness, survival, and laughter as sacred acts. This reading of Esther is politically subversive. By laughing at the Persian empire — the pompous king, the sycophantic advisers, and the ridiculous laws — it undermines the authority and permanence of empire itself. It shows that the structures we’re taught to revere (royalty, gender roles, power) are often absurd and fragile. The humor becomes a weapon — a way to reclaim agency, especially for the marginalized. Esther, a woman with no power on paper, uses wit, timing, and beauty to save her people. That’s not just a story of survival — it’s a satire of how power works, and who gets to wield it. In that way, reading Esther as satire is a kind of resistance. It invites us to take joy seriously, to question seriousness itself, and to see comedy as a theological act. Our second resource is a groundbreaking comedy special by queer comedian Tig Notaro that some people call "Live," but that others remember as the "Hello, Good Evening, I Have Cancer" set. This set was not intended to be a recorded special, but someone at the venue thankfully happened to tape it. The audience was so moved by the set that night that others convinced Notaro to release the recording. As the alternate title suggests, the set begins with Notaro taking the stage and saying "Hello. Good Evening. Hello. I have cancer." The following thirty minutes are a hilarious and cutting exploration of Notaro's fresh cancer diagnosis, her mother's death, and her recent breakup. At various moments, Notaro attempts to comfort the audience members who seem concerned for her, assuring them that they will be ok. Her humor plays on the bleakness of her own situation as she attempts to make meaning of recent events. At one point, towards the end of the set, she apologizes to the audience for being so depressing and asks them if they would prefer for her to switch to jokes. But you can hear them yell in reply "No! No! Keep going!" This is one of my favorite comedy specials that speaks to the power of the genre to navigate tension well. As you head into this week, may you open yourself to the possibility of seeing God's joy, even in the midst of so much sorrow. I'm praying that you find a moment to laugh as well! Next week, Pastor Alison will be kicking off a book study that will meet virtually throughout July and August. The group will be reading Do You Still Talk to Grandma?: When the Problematic People in Our Lives Are the Ones We Love by Brit Barron. Whether or not you can join the book study, we'd highly recommend checking out this book! About the Book Do You Still Talk to Grandma? is an incredibly readable book full of personal stories and thought-provoking ideas. It tackles questions like: What can it look like to strive for justice without causing new harm or giving up on the people we love? How do we create gracious and risky spaces for people to learn and evolve? These types of questions feel incredibly important for navigating the world we find ourselves in today. About the Author Brit Barron is a speaker, teacher, and storyteller. She is a pastor at New Abbey church in Los Angeles, CA and is a member of the Post-Evangelical Collective's Working Board. Brit and her wife Sami live in LA and you can often find Brit ready to have conversations on the topics of spirituality, race, personal development and storytelling. Interviews with Brit Barron
During her sermon this past Sunday, Pastor Alison shared a letter called “Acting faithfully in troubling times,” which was written by Presiding Bishop Sean W. Rowe to members of the Episcopal church. Rowe's letter does a great job of painting a vision for how our faith can influence how we navigate the troubling world we find ourselves in today. While we, at the River, are not members of the Episcopal Church, we are part of the global communion of hope in the Risen Jesus. We too can draw upon the strengths of our faith, as we seek to resist evil, to strive for justice and peace among all people, and to respect the dignity of every human being. And we too can find courage and resilience in our identity as members of the Body of Christ. Text of the letter is included below! Dear people of God in The Episcopal Church:
I am writing to you from Geneva, where I am meeting with global partners at the World Council of Churches and the United Nations Refugee Agency. As we have discussed how our institutions might act faithfully and boldly in these turbulent times, I have been reflecting on how we Episcopalians can respond to what is unfolding around us as followers of the Risen Christ whose first allegiance is to the kingdom of God, not to any nation or political party. The events of the last several days lend urgency to this spiritual challenge. Earlier this week, President Trump’s executive order banning or restricting travel from 19 countries went into effect. This order impacts countries that are home to dioceses of The Episcopal Church and many of our Anglican Communion partners, and I have written to the bishops and primates in those countries to express our concern. The unwarranted deployment of the National Guard and U.S. Marine Corps on the streets of Los Angeles also signals a dangerous turn. As the bishops of California have written, these military deployments risk escalating the confrontations unnecessarily and set a dangerous precedent for future deployments that heighten tensions rather than resolve them. As Christians committed to strive for justice and peace among all people, we know that there is a better way. What we are witnessing is the kind of distortion that arises when institutions like the military and the State Department are turned on the people they were meant to protect. These mainstays of the federal government, designed to safeguard civil society and promote peace and stability, are now being weaponized for political advantage. The violence on television is not our only risk. We are also seeing federal budget proposals that would shift resources from the poor to the wealthy; due process being denied to immigrants; and the defunding of essential public health, social service, and foreign aid programs that have long fulfilled the Gospel mandate to care for the vulnerable, children, and those who are hungry and sick. With all of this in mind, we are finding ways to respond as Christians to what we see happening around us. We are exploring options to support litigation challenging the travel ban on the ground of religious freedom; advocating for federal spending that safeguards the welfare of the most vulnerable; caring for immigrants and refugees in our congregations and communities; and standing in solidarity with other faith groups. In short, we are practicing institutional resistance rooted not in partisan allegiance, but in Christian conviction. At its best, our church is capable of moral clarity and resolute commitment to justice. I believe we can bring those strengths to bear on this gathering storm. Churches like ours, protected by the First Amendment and practiced in galvanizing people of goodwill, may be some of the last institutions capable of resisting the injustice now being promulgated. That is not a role we sought—but it is one we are called to. In Geneva, I have been reminded that we are part of a global communion of hope in the Risen Christ. We do not stand alone as we live by our baptismal promises: to persevere in resisting evil, to strive for justice and peace among all people, and to respect the dignity of every human being. In these troubling times, may we find courage and resilience in our identity as members of the Body of Christ. Yours in Christ, The Most Rev. Sean Rowe Presiding Bishop The Episcopal Church Last Sunday, as part of our Pentecost celebration, Ministry Assistant Maddie Abbott invited the River community into a daily spiritual practice: find a place you pass each day — a doorway, a mirror, a subway entrance — and pause to pray the simple words, “Come, Holy Spirit.” This short prayer is rooted in centuries of Christian tradition — but it also resonates with radical movements of justice and renewal in more recent history. That’s why this week’s Resource of the Week includes two offerings that speak to one another:
Together, these two resources invite us to live more deeply into the reality that the Spirit is always moving — and always creating something new. Come, Holy Spirit: A prayer with deep rootsThe simple invocation, “Come, Holy Spirit,” has been prayed by Christians for centuries. One of the most well-known versions of this prayer begins: Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of Thy faithful and kindle in them the fire of Thy love. Send forth Thy Spirit and they shall be created. And Thou shall renew the face of the earth. O God, who by the light of the Holy Spirit, did instruct the hearts of Thy faithful, grant us in the same Spirit to be truly wise, and ever to rejoice in His consolation. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen. This prayer, drawn in part from Psalm 104:30, became a central part of Catholic devotional life in the Middle Ages. It was often used to open classes, sermons, or times of discernment — especially when people felt uncertain or needed guidance. Its words express longing for God’s presence, but also trust in God’s renewing power. A related text, the "Golden Sequence" (Veni Sancte Spiritus), is a Latin hymn composed in the 13th century, traditionally attributed to Stephen Langton or Pope Innocent III. Still sung during Pentecost Mass today, it describes the Holy Spirit as consoler, rest-giver, truth-bringer, and joy-maker. While the shorter prayer and the hymn are distinct, they share a deep theological insight: that the Holy Spirit is not just a comforting presence, but a creative force — a Spirit who renews the face of the earth. Across centuries and traditions — from medieval monasteries to charismatic revivals — this prayer has helped people open their hearts to something beyond their own power. It’s a way of saying: "I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know what’s next. But I’m open. Come, Holy Spirit." Azusa reimagined by keri dayIf "Come, Holy Spirit" is a prayer of invitation, Keri Day’s book Azusa Reimagined: A Radical Vision of Religious and Democratic Belonging is a vision of what happens when that invitation takes root in the world.
In this powerful theological reflection, Day reclaims the story of the Azusa Street Revival — a 1906 outpouring of the Holy Spirit that began in a small, multi-racial Los Angeles church led by William J. Seymour, a Black Holiness preacher. What happened there was extraordinary: people of all races and economic backgrounds came together to pray, sing, speak in tongues, and experience healing. The revival spread rapidly, sparking similar Spirit-filled gatherings across the U.S. and the world. This moment marked the birth of the Pentecostal movement, one of the fastest-growing expressions of Christianity globally today. Its emphasis on the power of the Spirit, deep worship, and the full participation of all people — across race, gender, and class — was radically countercultural then, and remains vital now. Importantly for us: the River traces its roots to this tradition. We come out of the broader Pentecostal and charismatic movement — part of a lineage that believes the Holy Spirit is not just a historical idea but an active, present reality. While the River has evolved over the years as we’ve left the Vineyard movement and fully embraced the LGBTQ+ community, we continue to be shaped by that same conviction: that the Spirit moves among us with power, compassion, and creativity. In fact, we believe that it is an openness to the continued presence and work of the Holy Spirit that allows us to continue to grow and evolve as we continue to discern how we can best support and uplift all members of this community, during Pride month and every month. Keri Day invites us to take another look at Azusa — not just as a revival of individual hearts, but as a theological and political event. She argues that the Spirit at Azusa didn’t just transform people’s emotions or prayer lives — it disrupted structures of white supremacy, patriarchy, and economic inequality. It was a new vision of belonging, a Spirit-birthed community that defied the social order. In her words, Azusa offered “a radical social imaginary,” one in which the Spirit collapses hierarchies and invites us into a deeper, freer form of community. That vision speaks powerfully to the kind of church the River strives to be. Last Sunday, during River Roundtable, guest preacher Steve Watson mentioned a book that we love! In Woven: Nurturing a Faith Your Kid Doesn’t Have to Heal From, Meredith Miller explores how we can help children connect with a loving God in ways that are healthy and lasting, and casts a vision for how to do this even while deconstructing faith and/or not having all the answers. So much of what Miller talks about aligns with the approach we've been using in RiverKids/Youth for decades. It is wonderful to be able to have a book like this to recommend to our parents and volunteers! If you are interested in checking it out, we have a copy available in the River's Lending Library! And, we were also excited to discover that Miller has additional resources available for families and churches on her website. Things like a podcast ("Ask Away") where kids can ask anything about the Bible, and a weekly subscription-based newsletter ("Great Big Bible Story Walkthrough") that equips families to explore the Bible together in life-giving ways. We recommend checking them out! About Woven Most Christian parenting books are ready with exact practices every family should follow in order to raise obedient children. In this obedience-training model, faith is a wall, constructed brick by brick, as adults tell children what to believe and how to behave. But what if obedience is not the goal of Christian parenting? What if it’s our job as parents to instead help our kids get to know God and discover that God can be trusted? And what if faith is not constructed brick by brick, but rather woven strand by strand? Much like a spider’s web, in which anchor strands and internal threads combine to form a unique web, Woven can help children anchor to who God is and have faith practices that are rich, textured, and all their own. Kids need space to explore the Bible, ask big questions, and even change their understanding of God and faith along the way. With Woven, families can nurture the kind of faith that can flex and grow, be broken and repaired. This is the sort of faith that can stand up to the life a child will live, the doubts they will encounter, and the questions that will come up along the way. So many parents want to pass along their faith, but know that God is so much bigger than the list of do’s and don’ts they were taught about as children. They want to pass along a faith their child doesn’t have to heal from. Woven is the guidebook parents have been looking for. With a deep reverence for scripture and suggested activities to help your family grow in faith together, Woven is for parents who want to go beyond a list of do’s and don’ts and pass along a resilient faith based on genuine love for and trust in God.
As RiverKids Director Amelia Cunard was preparing for her sermon titled "Returning to the Mystery of 'I AM'," one of the resources she consulted was Karen Armstrong's book A History of God: The 4,000-Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. If you are interested in checking it out, we have a copy available in the River's Lending Library! Armstrong has a fascinating story. After spending seven years as a nun, Armstrong left the convent and proceeded to distance herself from organized religion for 13 years. After this long break from religion, while on a television broadcast assignment in Jerusalem, Armstrong had a "breakthrough experience" that defied her prior assumptions. This experience allowed Armstrong to revisit her own faith and was the inspiration for virtually all of her subsequent work as a scholar of world religions. Interviews with Armstrong
Armstrong's Author Bio Karen Armstrong is the author of numerous books on religion, including The Case for God, A History of God, The Battle for God, Holy War, Islam, Buddha, and Fields of Blood, as well as a memoir, The Spiral Staircase. Her work has been translated into 45 languages. In 2008 she was awarded the TED Prize and began working with TED on the Charter for Compassion, created online by the general public, crafted by leading thinkers in Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Confucianism. It was launched globally in the fall of 2009. Also in 2008, she was awarded the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms Medal. In 2013, she received the British Academy’s inaugural Nayef Al-Rodhan Prize for Transcultural Understanding. About A History of God Amazon.com Review: "Armstrong, a British journalist and former nun, guides us along one of the most elusive and fascinating quests of all time—the search for God. Like all beloved historians, Armstrong entertains us with deft storytelling, astounding research, and makes us feel a greater appreciation for the present because we better understand our past. Be warned: A History of God is not a tidy linear history. Rather, we learn that the definition of God is constantly being repeated, altered, discarded, and resurrected through the ages, responding to its followers' practical concerns rather than to mystical mandates. Armstrong also shows us how Judaism, Christianity, and Islam have overlapped and influenced one another, gently challenging the secularist history of each of these religions." —Gail Hudson
As Pastor Alison was preparing for her sermon titled "Making Sense of the Trinity," she found the Center of Action and Contemplation (CAC) to be a particularly helpful resource — one that you may find beneficial as well! Founded by Richard Rohr in 1987, the CAC "offers programs and resources that introduce Christian contemplative wisdom and practices—guiding seekers toward personal transformation and inspiring compassionate action in the world." Their offerings include daily written meditations, guided spiritual practices, books and other media, podcasts, events, online education, and the Living School (a deep immersion program focused on Christian contemplative traditions). If you want to narrow things down to one simple resource, we'd recommend signing up to receive the Daily Meditations (either daily or a weekly summary). CAC describes the meditations this way: "Rooted in the Christian contemplative tradition, the Daily Meditations offer reflections from Richard Rohr, CAC faculty, and guest teachers to deepen your spiritual practice and inspire compassionate action in the world. Each meditation invites you to embody a transformative presence in your life and community." Below are some of the CAC daily meditations that Pastor Alison considered when preparing her recent sermon:  |
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