March 8, 2026
The Third Sunday of Lent – Mark S. Winward
This coming Saturday will mark the twenty-eighth anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood – but the beginning of that journey goes back to a call to ministry when I was but 15 years old. Looking back over these fifty years, I find myself asking what I’ve learned. Today’s Gospel, the story of the woman at the well, gives me one answer. And it says something important about who Jesus is and about how we are meant to live as his followers.
Usually, when we hear this passage, we focus on the woman from a distance. But it may help to picture the moment as she experienced it. Imagine it is noon near Sychar. She has come to draw water in the middle of the day, alone. It is hard work, and she is by herself for a reason. Her life has left her isolated, even within her own community the Jews viewed as outcasts. Then Jesus speaks to her and asks for a drink. That may not sound unusual to us, but it would have been unusual to her. Jews and Samaritans did not relate to each other easily, and men did not normally start public conversations with women this way – let alone a Samaritan woman. Jesus ignores those boundaries. He speaks to her directly and treats her as someone worthy of attention and respect.
That matters because it reflects something basic in our life of faith.
March 1, 2026
The Second Sunday of Lent – Mark S. Winward
“Jesus answered [Nicodemus], Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” – John 3:3, NRSV
Reclaiming a Term
The theme of John chapter 3 is the “new birth.” In recent years, a great deal has been made of this passage. It was fifty years ago that a massive stir was caused when a presidential candidate named Jimmy Carter stated publicly that he was “born again.” (Yes, half a century!) Since then—and especially after Chuck Colson, one of the most notorious figures of the Watergate scandal, wrote of his dramatic prison conversion in his bestseller Born Again—the term has firmly entered our popular consciousness.
However, following the rise of the Moral Majority, the term became heavily associated with Southern fundamentalism and specific political positions. I know many people—even clergy, no less—who refuse to identify themselves as “born again” simply because of those political connotations. And I recognize that may resonate with some in our congregation.
But whether or not you are “born again” has nothing to do with politics or religious factionalism. In this passage, Jesus tells us that being born again is a description of a spiritual state of being—one that determines your relationship with God. Quite simply, understanding what it means to be born again is the most important question you could ever ask in your life.
February 22, 2026
The First Sunday of Lent – Mark S. Winward
The Grit of the Ashes
“You’re dust.” Does that feel like an insult? It shouldn’t. If you were in church this past Wednesday—Ash Wednesday—you can probably still sense the grit of the ashes on your forehead. Those haunting words still echo: “Remember you’re dust, and to dust you shall return.” With that reminder of our mortality, our sin, and our desperate need for redemption, we began our journey through Lent.
I’m not standing here this morning trying to be abusive, but I have to ask: how does that make you feel? If you’ve come here today with a crushed self-esteem, I owe you an apology, but I also bring good news—you’re indeed the “poor in spirit” Jesus spoke of, to whom belongs the kingdom of heaven.
However, if you’re like me—and I suspect like most of us—you might bristle at the suggestion of being called “lowly.” If you see it as an attack on your self-esteem, I’m here to tell you that we’re in great peril. At the heart of that bristling is a vice to which we’re drawn like moths to a flame. It’s the only vice in the world that everyone hates when they see it in someone else, but rarely notices in themselves. Lust, anger, greed, and deceit all pale in comparison to it. It’s a vice that separates us from every other human being and, ultimately, from God. It’s the fuel for wars,
February 18, 2026
Ash Wednesday – Mark S. Winward
“Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Those are the words I will say as I apply a small, cross-shaped smudge of ashes on your forehead as a reminder of your mortality. Many of us don’t need to be reminded of this, as we bear the grief of a cherished loved one or close friend. But if we are realistic, we are aware that any day might very well be “our day,” when we will not see another earthly sunrise.
Besides reminding us of our mortality, since biblical times ashes have represented our desire to turn from our sins. Now sin is not a very popular topic nowadays. After all, preachers go on and on about God’s grace—but we hear less and less about sin. The problem is this: unless we admit our own sin, we can have no grace. Grace implies there is something wrong for which we receive God’s unearned mercy.
Ash Wednesday, pure and simple, is about sin—sin with a big “S” and sin with a small “s.” As I remind you to “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return,” I am directly quoting Genesis, chapter 3, when God imposed the penalty for the sin of disobedience. Whether you accept the Genesis account literally or not, the message is that at the dawn of humanity, something went terribly wrong. The human race turned against its Creator with devastating consequences.