ALOHA kākou! This Lent, we’ve been learning to live more honestly and authentically before God. First, in the wilderness, we learned to trust God’s promises and tell the truth. Then, with Nicodemus at night, we learned to trust God enough to be born from above. At the Samaritan well, we learned to name our true spiritual thirst. Last week, with the man born without sight, we were invited to see truthfully, allowing Christ to open our eyes to what we might rather avoid. Now, as Lent draws closer to Holy Week, the Gospel story leads us into one of the most powerful and mysterious stories in Scripture: the raising of Lazarus. Here we discover that truth, once revealed, does not leave us where we were. It calls us out into the light.

THIS SUNDAY the Gospel lesson from John 11 tells the story of Jesus standing before the tomb of his friend Lazarus and calling him back to life. In the sermon, “Coming Out into the Light,” we’ll reflect on what it means for Christ to call us out of the places of darkness, grief, fear, and silence that can hold us captive. As we move toward Holy Week, this story reminds us that God’s power is not only about life after death, but about new life breaking into the present moment. Please join us Sunday at 9 a.m. in the Chapel, or on Facebook Live, as we listen again for the voice that calls each of us to step forward into the light of God’s grace.

LAST SUNDAY we heard the remarkable story about Jesus healing a man who had been unable to see since he was born (John 9:1-41). In the sermon, we explored how Christ challenges our assumptions and invites us into a clearer, more compassionate way of seeing. What have you been seeing more clearly and brightly this past week?

Beloved brothers and sisters, I hold you in my prayers. I ask your faithful prayers for St. Timothy’s Church, for those who lead and serve, for every member of our ‘ohana, and for your vicar. May the blessing of Almighty God be upon you and remain with you always. 

Aloha Ke Akua!
Fr. Pete+

We’ve had a lot of people here having to deal with cataract surgeries lately! And they are in our
prayers!

I had my own cataract surgeries years ago. Since childhood I’d been severely nearsighted, but now it
was time to deal with my cataracts. Oh, it seemed to me that my vision was just fine. I wore glasses
or contacts back then, so I could drive. I could read. I could recognize people across the room.
Maybe a bit of fuzziness, but everything seemed normal to me.
​
But after my cataract surgery, suddenly, the whole world sharpened. And everything was so much
brighter! One of our dear members who just had the surgery said, when she went back home, she
thought she had left the lights on! And another person wondered if someone had changed her
light bulbs to a higher wattage! But no, everything was just brighter, clearer.

What I hadn’t realized until after my cataracts were removed was how long I had been
compensating. Squinting. Adjusting. Accepting fuzziness as normal. I wasn’t blind—but I wasn’t
seeing clearly either.

That’s kind of how our spiritual vision works. We assume we’re seeing the world accurately. We
trust our interpretations. We rely on familiar categories. And only later—sometimes much later—do
we discover how much we’ve been missing. That’s where today’s Gospel story takes us.

By the way, speaking of seeing, when you came in this morning, I hope you saw something different.
Yes, today is Laetare Sunday. Laetare means “rejoice.” In the middle of this reflective and
penitential season, the Church offers a little glimpse of joy along the way. That’s why the altar
hangings and vestments shift today from the deep purple of Lent to rose—a color that hints at the
light of Easter beginning to dawn. It’s a reminder that Lent is not meant to leave us in darkness, but
to help our eyes adjust to the holy light that is coming. And that makes today’s Gospel story
especially fitting.

"This Lent, we’ve been learning to live more openly and honestly before God. First, in the wilderness,
we learned to trust God’s promises and tell the truth. Then, with Nicodemus, we learned to trust God
enough to be born from above. Last week, at the Samaritan well, we learned to name our true
spiritual thirst.

Now Jesus invites us into something even more unsettling: learning to see clearly and honestly.
John tells us that Jesus encounters a man who has been sightless from birth. Immediately the people
around him begin asking the wrong question:
​
“So who sinned and made this guy blind? Did he do something to cause this, or did his parents? We
gotta blame somebody!

That instinct feels familiar. We like clean explanations. We want moral clarity. We want to believe
suffering fits into tidy categories. We want to know who to blame—for the problems in our lives, our
country, and the world.

But Jesus refuses that framing entirely. “This is not about blame,” he says.

“This is about God’s work being revealed.”
​
And then Jesus spits on the ground, makes mud, smears it on the man’s eyes, and tells him to go
wash. The man does—and for the first time in his life, he sees.

But the miracle, it turns out, is only the beginning. Because sight, once received, cannot be undone.
And seeing clearly comes at a cost.

His neighbors are unsettled. The Pharisees are threatened. The parents are afraid. It’s actually a very
comical story. Everyone wants the man to explain himself—to fit back into the comfortable, familiar,
old story.

But the man refuses. At first, he knows very little. “I don’t know how it happened,” he says. “I only
know this: I was blind, and now I see.”
​
That simple honesty is the beginning of authenticity.

As the Pharisees’ interrogation continues, the man’s vision deepens—not just physically, but
spiritually. He moves from calling Jesus “the man,” to “a prophet,” to finally recognizing him as
Lord.

And with each step of clarity, the cost increases. He is challenged. Mocked. Eventually thrown out of
the community.
​
This is where Lent sharpens. Because living authentically before God does not always make life
easier. Sometimes it makes it harder. Seeing truthfully means we can no longer pretend not to see
injustice, cruelty, or our own complicity. Becoming true of heart means we may no longer fit
comfortably into systems built on denial, or even outright corruption. There are any number of
situations in our society right now that may haunt us about this.

Paul names this tension in Ephesians: “Once you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.
Live as children of light.” Not just feel like children of light. Live as them. That means aligning our
lives with what we now see.

The religious leaders in John’s Gospel insist that they do see clearly. That’s the irony. Their certainty
blinds them. They cling so tightly to what they think they know that they cannot recognize the truth
standing right in front of them.
​
The blind man, meanwhile, grows braver as the story unfolds. He doesn’t claim certainty. He simply
tells the truth of his experience. He refuses to deny what has happened to him—even when it costs
him immensely.

That is what authenticity looks like in real life. Not perfection. Not certainty. But courage.

The man born blind walks straight into the consequences of his words—social rejection, spiritual
risk, costly honesty. And there, Jesus meets him again.

When Jesus hears that the man has been cast out, he goes looking for him. Jesus does not heal and
disappear. He stays. He seeks. He asks the final, decisive question: “Do you believe?” And the man
answers—not with theology, but with trust.
​
This Lent, we are being asked similar questions.

What are we seeing now that we once overlooked?
What truths have come into focus that we can no longer ignore?
Where might authenticity require courage rather than comfort?

Learning to live authentically before God means allowing our vision to be healed—even when that
healing disrupts familiar arrangements. It means becoming true of heart, even if it costs us approval
or comfort, or our easy life.
​
So this week, I invite us all to pray a dangerous prayer:
“Lord, perform spiritual cataract surgery on me! Help me to see the clear light of your holy love.”

Help me to see, not just what is comfortable, or flattering, or easy—but help me to see what is true.
What needs to be addressed in my life. Not just what confirms my assumptions—but what deepens
my love.

And then let’s trust that the One who opens our eyes will also walk with us—through every valley,
into every hard conversation, toward a brighter, clearer life ahead.
​
Amen.

ALOHA kākou! This Lent, we’ve been learning to live more openly and honestly before God. First, in the wilderness, we learned to trust God’s promises and tell the truth. Then, with Nicodemus at night, we learned to trust God enough to be born from above. Last week, at the well, we learned to name our true spiritual thirst. Now Jesus invites us into something even more unsettling: learning to see clearly and honestly.

THIS SUNDAY we will hear the remarkable story about Jesus healing a man who has been unable to see since he was born (John 9:1-41). Yet as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that physical sight is not the real issue. The deeper question is about who truly understands what they are seeing, and who does not. In this week’s sermon, “Learning to See Truthfully,” we’ll explore how Christ challenges our assumptions and invites us into a clearer, more compassionate way of seeing. And on this Laetare Sunday, our beautiful rose vestments and altar hangings offer a glimpse of Easter joy already beginning to dawn. Please join us Sunday at 9 a.m. in the Chapel, or on Facebook Live.

LAST SUNDAY, we went to the well with Jesus and the Samaritan woman (John 4:5-42). In the midst of ancient divisions and suspicions, Jesus told this woman about “living water” — a holy gift that can satisfy the deeper thirst beneath our surface concerns. We explored the longings that drive us and the grace that meets us where we are. God encourages us to bring our deepest needs into the light and discover the One who alone can satisfy them.

DON’T FORGET, during Lent we have some special opportunities for spiritual growth: Our Sunday morning series of adult classes led by Laurie Luczak on “Ho‘imi Pono,” seeking right relationships. And our Wednesday evening Lenten Soup & Study at 6 p.m. in Sumida Hall—if you’d like to join us, please sign up on the Soup & Study clipboard in the chapel and let us know if you can bring soup or bread.

Beloved brothers and sisters, I hold you in my prayers. I ask your faithful prayers for St. Timothy’s Church, for those who lead and serve, for every member of our ‘ohana, and for your vicar. May the blessing of Almighty God be upon you and remain with you always. 

Aloha Ke Akua!
Fr. Pete+

Have you ever noticed that I keep a cup of water up here? I’m sort of attached to it. I love good clean iced water. But some years ago, I learned something about thirst the hard way.

I had convinced myself that I could power through a long, hot day without stopping—just one more errand, one more task, one more thing to get done. I ignored the warning signs: the headache, the irritability, the way everything started to feel harder and heavier than it should.

By the time I finally stopped and drank a full glass of water, I realized how dry I had been—and how little I had noticed it. Has that happened to you?

Thirst has a way of sneaking up on us. Especially when we’re busy. Especially when we’re used to pushing through. Especially in the heat of the day.

That’s where today’s Scripture lessons take us: straight into the subject of thirst. Not just physical thirst, but the deeper kind—the ache beneath our habits, the longing underneath our coping strategies, the needs we often try to manage quietly on our own….

• So, this Lent, we’ve been walking a path together. 

        Two weeks ago, in the wilderness, we learned to tell the truth, and trust the promise of God.

• Last week, with Nicodemus, we learned to trust God enough to begin again, to be born from above.
• Today, Jesus asks a sharper, more intimate question: What are you thirsty for? Really?

At the center of the Gospel story is a well. A simple, ordinary place. A place people went every day to draw what they need to survive.

And it is there, in the heat of the day, that Jesus meets a Samaritan woman. That detail matters. She comes to the well at noon, when no one else is there. Most women would have come early in the morning or late in the afternoon. But this woman comes alone, under the sun’s glare—suggesting a life shaped by avoidance, by shame, by complicated relationships.

And Jesus is already there. His disciples have taken off. Jesus is resting. Tired. Thirsty. Vulnerable enough to ask her for a drink.

That alone is astonishing. A Jewish man speaking to a Samaritan woman. A rabbi engaging someone with no social standing. Jesus breaks through boundaries we barely notice anymore—and then he does something even more radical.

He tells the truth. “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again,” he says. “But those who drink the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.”

At first, she misunderstands—as Nicodemus did. She thinks Jesus is offering a convenience, a shortcut, a way to avoid the daily grind. And honestly, who wouldn’t want that?

But Jesus is not offering escape. He is offering honesty. [Hmmm, do you sense a theme for this Lent? Honesty. Authenticity. Openness to God.]

“Go, call your husband,” Jesus tells her. And suddenly the conversation moves from theology to life. From abstraction to reality. From surface-level curiosity to the place where things are tender and true.

“I have no husband,” she says. And Jesus responds with something remarkable. He doesn’t accuse. He doesn’t shame her. He doesn’t turn away from her. He simply names the truth that she already knows. “You’re right,” he says. And somehow, instead of crushing her, that truth sets her free.

This is what it looks like to live honestly, authentically, before God. Not hiding. Not pretending. Not managing impressions. But allowing the truth to be spoken in a space where grace is already present.

Our Psalm 95 warns us about hardened hearts—about what happens when we resist God’s voice and cling to our defenses. But this woman does the opposite. She lets herself be seen. She becomes true of heart. And something shifts.

The woman who came alone leaves her water jar behind and runs back to the city. The woman who avoided others becomes a witness to them. The woman who lived on the margins becomes the first evangelist in John’s Gospel.

Authenticity does that. It opens us to transformation.

Paul puts it this way in Romans: “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.” Poured. Lavished. Given freely—not once we’ve cleaned ourselves up, but while we are still in need.

That’s the pattern, the theme, we’re seeing all through this Lent. Jesus does not wait for us to get our lives together. He meets us at the well. He meets us in the wilderness. He meets us at night, when questions feel risky. And he asks--not Are you worthy of me? — but Are you willing to follow me?

The woman at the well shows us that living authentically before God is not about embarrassing self-exposure for its own sake. It’s about relationship.

It’s about allowing the deepest truth of who we are to meet the deepest truth of who God is.

And here’s the harder part: we all have wells we return to. Habits, patterns, distractions, coping mechanisms that promise relief but never quite satisfy. Some of them are harmless. Some are destructive. Most are just inadequate.

And as usual, Jesus doesn’t shame us for that. He simply asks us, again and again, Is that really enough? Will that truly satisfy your thirst?

The water he offers is not magic. It doesn’t remove struggle or pain. But it does change the source. It roots life not in performance or approval or control, but in love—steadfast, patient, undeserved love.

This Lent, the invitation is not to become someone else. It is to stop pretending to be someone we are not. To bring our thirst—our real, deep, spiritual thirst—into God’s presence. To let Jesus speak truth in love to us. To risk becoming true of heart. To let the waters of the Spirit flow through us….

Next week, we’ll meet a man who is blind since his birth—and discover what it means to see clearly. But before sight comes thirst. Before clarity comes honesty. Before healing comes truth.

So this week, I invite you to listen carefully to that Spirit wind we heard last week. Where do you feel dry? Where are you weary? What are you thirsty for?

Where are you drawing water that never quite satisfies? Bring that to God. Not disguised. Not defended. Just real. Honest.

Because the one who waits at the well already knows your story, and already loves you more deeply than you can ever imagine.

Amen.

ALOHA kākou! As we continue our Lenten journey, we do so in a world that feels unsettled, dangerous, and thirsting for relief. War rages in multiple regions. Political divisions deepen at home and abroad. Trust is fragile if not broken. And the noise of conflict and outrage is constant. In such a time, it is worth asking not only what the world is fighting over, but what we are truly longing for.

This Sunday, we come to the well with Jesus and the Samaritan woman in John 4:5-42. In the midst of ancient divisions and suspicions, Jesus tells this woman about “living water” — a holy gift that can satisfy the deeper thirst beneath our surface concerns. In this week’s sermon, we’ll explore the longings that drive us and the grace that meets us where we are. In Lent we are invited to bring our deepest needs into the light and discover the One who alone can satisfy them. Please join us this Sunday at 9 a.m. in the Chapel, or on Facebook Live.

LAST SUNDAY, we met Nicodemus (John 3:1-17), a respected religious leader who came to Jesus under cover of darkness to learn more about him. And in that quiet encounter, Jesus spoke words that have echoed through the centuries: “You must be born from above.” We asked, what does that mean for us, here and now, not as an abstract doctrine, but as a way of living honestly before God? How have you learned to trust God enough to begin again, to live authentically, born anew in the Spirit in this past week?

DON’T FORGET: Our Sunday morning series of adult classes, led by Laurie Luczak, on “Ho‘imi Pono,” seeking right relationships, continues this week. Join us after worship in the Vicar’s office for some thoughtful teaching and helpful conversations. We had a wonderful first session, but you are still welcome to join us!

AND our Wednesday evening Lenten Soup & Study continues to meet at 6 p.m. in Sumida Hall. We’re discussing the book The Sign and the Sacrifice by former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, and we conclude our time with the beautiful service of Compline. Please sign up on the clipboard in the chapel for upcoming weeks—let us know you’re coming and if you can bring soup or bread.

Beloved brothers and sisters, I hold you in my prayers. I ask your faithful prayers for St. Timothy’s Church, for those who lead and serve, for every member of our ‘ohana, and for your vicar. May the blessing of Almighty God be upon you and remain with you always. 

Aloha Ke Akua!
Fr. Pete+

Genesis 12; Psalm 121; Romans 4; John 3:1–17 ​

And Jesus meets him there. Not with shame, not with dismissal, but with an invitation: an invitation to begin again, to be born from above, to learn how to live honestly, authentically before God. 

Today, Lent takes its next step. Once we begin telling the truth, the next question is not What have I done? It is Will I trust God enough to live differently?

That question is embodied in Nicodemus. Yes, Nicodemus is a Pharisee, and they are the frequent object of Jesus’ disdain. But he is not a villain. He’s not a caricature of religious hypocrisy. He is a faithful, serious, thoughtful leader—respected, educated, committed. And he is full of questions. That alone should give us comfort. Questions are not a failure of faith; they are often its beginning. ​

ALOHA kākou! Have you noticed? Sometimes the most important conversations in our lives happen at night. When the house is quiet. When distractions fall away. When the questions we usually push aside begin to rise… Questions like: What really matters? What is my life’s purpose now? Where is God leading me now?

THIS SUNDAY, on the Second Sunday in Lent, we meet Nicodemus, a respected religious leader who comes to Jesus under cover of darkness to ask such questions. He is faithful, thoughtful, sincere, and searching. And in that quiet encounter, Jesus speaks words that have echoed through the centuries: “You must be born from above.” What does that mean for us, here, now? Not as an abstract doctrine, but as a way of living honestly before God? As the season of Lent continues, we move from simply telling the truth about ourselves to something deeper: learning to trust God enough to begin again, to live authentically, born anew in the Spirit. Let’s find out how. Please join us this Sunday at 9 a.m. in the Chapel, or on Facebook Live.

LAST SUNDAY, we stepped fully into Lent and into the wilderness of life’s tests. We heard about Jesus’ forty days of testing (Matthew 4:1-11), and were invited to examine our own hearts with honesty and courage. Jesus faced serious tests in the wilderness, and we too face crucial tests in life—and we’re encouraged to respond to them with confidence in God’s promises in the Scriptures, as Jesus did. So how did you do this week in facing your life’s tests?

THIS SUNDAY we begin our five-Sunday series of Adult Classes led by Laurie Luczak: “Ho‘imi Pono,” seeking right relationships. Join us after worship in the Vicar’s office for some thoughtful teaching and helpful conversations.

AND DON’T FORGET: Our Wednesday evening Lenten Soup & Study meets at 6 p.m. in Sumida Hall. We’re using the book The Sign and the Sacrifice by former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams (a few copies are still available for participants). We conclude our time with Compline. Please sign up on the clipboard in the chapel for the upcoming weeks—let us know you’re coming and if you can bring soup or bread.

Beloved brothers and sisters, I hold you in my prayers. I ask your faithful prayers for St. Timothy’s Church, for those who lead and serve, for every member of our ‘ohana, and for your vicar. May the blessing of Almighty God be upon you and remain with you always. 

Aloha Ke Akua!
Fr. Pete+

​ALOHA kākou! Last Wednesday, we gathered to hear the ancient, sobering words: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Ashes were traced in the sign of the cross on our foreheads—an outward mark of an inward truth. We were reminded of our mortality, yes, but also of our belonging. Yes, we are dust, and we are claimed.

THIS SUNDAY, we step fully into the First Sunday of Lent. The wilderness stretches before us. In worship we’ll hear of Jesus’ forty days of testing (Matthew 4:1-11), and we’re invited to examine our own hearts with honesty and courage. Lent is not a season of gloom, but of integrity: a time to lay aside pretense, to confess what burdens us, and to rediscover the freedom of living honestly before God. Jesus faced serious tests in the wilderness, and we too face crucial tests in life—how will we respond to them? With confidence in God’s promises, as Jesus did? Lent is not about perfection, but about courageously bringing our whole selves into the light and discovering God’s grace there. As we continue in this holy season together, may it become for us a time of clarity, renewal, and deepening trust in the One who leads us through the wilderness of life’s tests. Please join us this Sunday at 9 a.m. in the Chapel, or on Facebook Live.

LAST SUNDAY, we glimpsed glory one more time before the long, honest journey of Lent begins. In the Gospel account of the Transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-9), Jesus is revealed to Peter, James, and John in radiant splendor on the mountaintop. The vision sends them back down the mountain and onto the road that leads toward Jerusalem and the cross.

THROUGHOUT LENT, we have some good things planned to help us all experience a
meaningful season together at St. Timothy’s:

• On Wednesday evenings starting on February 25, in our Lenten Soup and Study series at 6 p.m. in Sumida Hall, we’ll use the book The Sign and the Sacrifice by former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams (copies are available for those interested). We’ll conclude our time with Compline. Please sign up on the clipboard in the chapel and let us know you’re coming, and if you can bring soup or bread.
• A five-Sunday series of Adult Classes led by Laurie Luczak will focus on “Ho‘imi Pono,” helping us to seek right relationships. Join us after worship every Sunday starting March 1 in the Vicar’s office.

Dear sisters and brothers, you are in my prayers, and I ask for your continuing prayers for St. Timothy’s Church, for our dedicated staff and devoted lay leaders and ministers, for your fellow members, and for your vicar. May God bless you and your loved ones always.  

Aloha Ke Akua!
Fr. Pete+

ALOHA kākou! Last Sunday as you know, we experienced quite a storm with heavy wind gusts and rain, and many of you wisely stayed home (or maybe it was for the Super Bowl?). I’m praying the weather this Sunday won’t keep you from coming to St. Tim’s, because it’s going to be a very special day!

THIS SUNDAY we stand at a turning point in the church year. On the Last Sunday after the Epiphany, we will glimpse glory one more time before the long, honest journey of Lent begins. In the Gospel account of the Transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-9), Jesus is revealed to Peter, James, and John in radiant splendor on the mountaintop. Peter wants to stay there, and who wouldn’t? But the vision sends them back down the mountain and onto the road that leads toward Jerusalem and the cross. In the sermon we’ll reflect on what this moment asks of us, and what light Moses and the psalmist can shed on it. What does it mean to behold Christ’s glory, and then keep walking? How does Epiphany’s light prepare us, not for escape, but for faithfulness? Please join us this Sunday at 9 a.m. in the Chapel, or on Facebook Live.

LAST SUNDAY we heard Jesus entrust us with extraordinary influence: You are salt and light, he says (Matthew 5:13-20). Salt brings out flavor, preserves what is good, and quietly does its work. Light refuses to be hidden, shining not for its own sake, but so others can see more clearly. How have you experienced being salt and light in this bland and dark world this past week?

THIS SUNDAY is also our Shrove Sunday Waffle Brunch! Our thanks to Joe Cabrejos and Jacque Vaughn for spearheading this event, and for cooking the waffles and breakfast meats, and to all who are volunteering to help set up, serve, or clean up. This is our “Mardi Gras” before Lent begins. Please join us if you can and enjoy this wonderful brunchy feast!

NEXT WEDNESDAY is Ash Wednesday and the holy season of Lent begins. We’ll have services at 12 noon and 6 p.m., the imposition of the ashes with communion. Before the noon service I will informally bless our new purple altar hangings and vestments, but as a congregation we will dedicate them officially next week, on the First Sunday of Lent. Our thanks go to Evangeline Barney and her grandchildren Sydney and Boo for providing these beautiful pieces to enhance our worship!

THROUGHOUT LENT, we have some good things planned to help us all experience a meaningful season together at St. Timothy’s:

• On Wednesday evenings during Lent, February 25 – March 25, our Lenten Soup & Study series at 6 p.m. in Sumida Hall will use the book The Sign and the Sacrifice by former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams (copies are available for those interested). We’ll conclude our time with Compline. Please sign up on the clipboard in the chapel and let us know you’re coming, and if you can bring soup or bread.
• And a five-Sunday series of Adult Classes led by Laurie Luczak will focus on “Ho‘imi Pono,” helping us to seek right relationships, after worship every Sunday starting March 1, in the Vicar’s office.

I hope you can participate in these opportunities for spiritual growth in Lent!

Dear sisters and brothers, you are in my prayers, and I ask for your continuing prayers for St. Timothy’s Church, for our dedicated staff and devoted lay leaders and ministers, for your fellow members, and for your vicar. May God bless you and your loved ones always.  

Aloha Ke Akua!
Fr. Pete+

ALOHA kākou! Here in the heart of the Epiphany season, we continue to learn how God’s light is revealed in ordinary lives, including our own. As we gather at St. Timothy’s this Sunday, many of us are also looking ahead to the Super Bowl—a day of bright lights, big stages, amazing plays, huge hopes for “our” team, and lots of commercials! But in a culture that celebrates spectacle and winning, Jesus speaks to ordinary people and entrusts them with extraordinary influence: You are salt and light, he says. Salt brings out flavor, preserves what is good, and quietly does its work. Light refuses to be hidden, shining not for its own sake, but so others can see more clearly. This Epiphany season invites us to consider how God’s light shows up in everyday faithfulness, steady love, and lives lived for the good of others, even long after the stadium lights go dark.

Being salt and light are not abstract ideals, they are a calling. In worship this week,
we’ll reflect on Matthew 5:13-20, and on what it means to live into that calling right
where we are: in our homes, our workplaces, our neighborhoods, and our common life
together. Please join us this Sunday at 9 a.m. in the Chapel, or on Facebook Live.

LAST SUNDAY, we explored Jesus’ words in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-12): “Blessed are the meek… blessed are the merciful… blessed are the peacemakers.” We learned that Christ blesses a different kind of courage than the world may claim. It’s the quiet courage of humility, compassion, and faithful perseverance. We commemorated Queen Liliʻuokalani, whose life reminds us that courage sometimes looks like sacrifice, mercy, and steadfast love in the face of loss. In Micah 6:8, God calls us to follow her example, to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God—living as people of light in a time that longs for peace.

​LENT IS COMING! We have some good things planned to help us all experience a meaningful Lent together at St. Timothy’s:

• Next Sunday, February 15, we’ll have a special Shrove Sunday Waffle Brunch after worship (please sign up to attend and let us know how you can help and what you can bring!).
• On Ash Wednesday, February 18, our services with the imposition of ashes and communion will be at 12 noon and 6 p.m.
• On Wednesday evenings during Lent, February 25 – March 25, we’ll have our Lenten Soup and Study series at 6 p.m. in Sumida Hall, using the book The Sign and the Sacrifice by former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams (copies are available for those interested). We conclude our time with Compline.
• And we’ll have a series of Sunday Adult Classes led by Laurie Luczak on “Ho‘imi Pono,” helping us to seek right relationships, after worship every Sunday, March 1 – 29, in the Vicar’s office.

Please plan to participate in these opportunities for spiritual growth!

Dear sisters and brothers, you are in my prayers, and I ask for your continuing prayers for St. Timothy’s Church, for our dedicated staff and devoted lay leaders and ministers, for your fellow members, and for your vicar. May God bless you and your loved ones always.
 
Aloha Ke Akua!
Fr. Pete+