At the urging of a friend, I’m doing a little project this year: On the twelfth day of every month, I take twelve photographs that document my regular life for that day. I’ve managed not to forget in January or February, and it’s been really fun.

But on Sunday – February 12 – as I looked back on the pictures I’d taken throughout the day, I realized that the best moments weren’t ones that could be captured by a camera. They were moments when people, unconnected for any other reason, come together to become the church. Here then, are my twelve on twelve: Twelve moments when I saw the church being church on February 12:

1. On a cold, cold morning, the sanctuary was warm with the greetings of friends.

2. Over breakfast, I heard the good news of the birth of a great niece and an update on someone who had had surgery recently.

3. In worship, the laughter of the community floated up to heaven, as joyous as any prayer or song of praise.

4. The table was set, as always,  with the feast of abundant welcome.

5. After church, several of you welcomed a stranger who needed a helping hand, took him to lunch, and gave him a ride home.

6. Another of you took communion to a member of the church who couldn’t be in worship.

7. Our youth spent the afternoon on an interfaith tour and visited a synagogue, a mosque, and a Catholic church, to learn about faith traditions that are different from our own.

8. Also throughout the afternoon, there were emails flying among our marketing team, with ideas about how to spread the word about First Christian Church.

9. The elders, who are taking seriously the challenge to pray for our congregation, shared things they were grateful for in the past month.

10. The board, who take seriously their responsibility to make good decisions for the congregation, asked good questions.

11. In every meeting and every event, our leaders led with humor and grace.

12. We went off, into the night, filled with the good news that God is at word here.

Frederick Buechner – writer, pastor, theologian – says that “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

I was thinking of those words all weekend, as I gathered with the leaders of First Christian Church for our leadership retreat Saturday morning, and again as we installed those leaders in worship on Sunday. At the retreat Saturday, we spent most of the day talking about where God is calling us – both individually, and as a congregation. I’ve identified three areas in which I think God is particularly calling us as a congregation. This isn’t an exhaustive list, of course; there are other things we’re called to do as well. But as I watch our congregation, as I see the ways in which God is moving among us, these three callings keep coming up. They are:

Ministry to Children and Families: Our youth ministry program has always been important, and right now we have a lot of potential for growth in our ministry to families with young children.

Involvement in our Community: There are great needs in our community, and as people of faith, we are called to serve those in need and work for a better world.

Calling and Teaching New Leaders: First Christian has a history of calling leaders into ministry, and we’re currently discovering what an enriching experience it is to be a teaching congregation.

On Saturday, our leaders spent some talking about these callings. We didn’t make any decisions or even set any goals – it was just a conversation, the start of an exploration that will continue in coming weeks and months.

I’m excited about these callings. I’m excited to see what’s next. I might even, if I were to be so bold, suggest that these are the places where our “deep gladness” meets “the world’s deep hunger.”

I said last week that Mark might have been a blogger if he had lived in an internet age. After reading this week’s section of Mark’s gospel (1:21 – 3:35; the full schedule is here), I still think so. In fact, I think Mark would have been a big fan of Facebook and Twitter, and all those sites that spread news quickly and rapidly. The pace of Mark’s story doesn’t slow down after those first few verses. Jesus has barely finished calling the disciples away from their fishing boats before word spreads throughout Galilee about him. It’s like a social media ad campaign, a story that went viral and zipped around the region at lightning speed.

Notice how many times the words “at once” or “immediately” are used in 1:21-28 alone. The word “immediately” is found some 35 times in the gospel as a whole. Things are happening fast, and people are responding. Crowds gather wherever Jesus goes. At one point, so many people are jammed into a house that some folks have to dig a hole in the roof to help their friend get to see Jesus. Another time, the crowds are so thick that Jesus has to get in a boat to keep from being pushed into the sea of Galilee.

What were all these people talking about? What was the big deal? Two big things: First, Jesus showed an incredible capacity to heal and drive out demons. He demonstrated a power that the people hadn’t seen before. Second, he did it on the Sabbath, defying all the rules established by the authorities. Some people came to see his works of power; others came to catch him in the act.

And something curious happens as well. Jesus doesn’t seem to want anyone to know his true identity, doesn’t want anyone to proclaim him Son of God. Why not?

We’ll talk about it Sunday…. join us, won’t you?

My family and I spent our day off on Monday at the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences in Raleigh, exploring the wonders of the natural world. We learned the difference between a water salamander and an eel (an eel has fins; a salamander has legs). We touched a hissing cockroach (ick), and petted a box turtle (cool). We saw the bones of a dinosaur millions of years old. We walked through the living conservatory and watched a blue morpho butterfly spread its wings.

On the main level of the museum is an exhibit of sea creatures: ghost crabs, baby sea turtles who scramble back to the ocean after they hatch, seahorses and fish of all sizes and colors. Suspended above is the skeleton of a giant whale, so big that it puts into perspective the size of a human life.

As I stood looking up at that enormous whale (praying for the strength of the steel cables holding it suspended from the ceiling), I thought of the “chorus of praise” Thandiwe talked about in her sermon last week. Psalm 148 describes the whole creation singing God’s glory: mountains, hills, fruit trees, cedars, wild animals, cattle, creeping things, flying birds, princes and rulers, men and women, old and young, sun and moon and shining stars, and even, verse 7, all the sea monsters – like that giant whale above my head.

Before we left the museum, I took one last look at a poster hanging on the wall on the fourth floor, kind of out of the way, not part of a major exhibit, but incredible nonetheless. It was a picture of something that will never be contained in a museum, something we’ll never quite be able to touch, something we’re just beginning to know how to explore. It was a composite photograph of the Milky Way galaxy, taken by three space telescopes to create a view we’ve never been able to see before. All those planets and stars, with at least one of them containing life as varied and beautiful as a whale and a butterfly.

I found myself thinking of another star – or, who knows? Maybe one of the very same – that guided some curious seekers to a house in Bethlehem several centuries ago. What they found there was not what they expected, maybe not even what they were looking for. But still, they fell to their knees and joined their voices in the chorus of praise.

What an incredible world God has created for us. What a gift to live in it together.

One of the things I find most compelling about the story of Jesus is described by the theological term“incarnation.” The word means to take on flesh, and in Christianity it refers to God coming into human form. We await the birth of a baby, Jesus of Nazareth, Emmanuel, God with us.  As we tell the story, God came in a specific form: Jesus. A boy born in the Middle East, Jesus would have had dark brown skin, black hair, brown eyes. He probably spoke Aramaic with his family and friends. His father was a carpenter, his mother an unwed teenager. The incarnation in Jesus was very specific: it happened in a particular time, place and person.

Yet, there is also something more generalizable about the incarnation, about God revealed in human form. Jesus points his disciples to this generalized incarnation when he tells them, “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me…. Truly, I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:35-36, 40) God is incarnate in not only Jesus but in all the people around us. This does not mean that they are God, but it certainly means that they were created in God’s image.

So seeing Christ means recognizing God in the people around us, seeing God’s image in the face of a neighbor or a stranger. When we truly do, it compels us to respond to the people around us differently. It challenges us to work for justice in our world, since justice for people in need, we are told, is justice for Christ. It challenges us to listen and to be patient, to reach out with compassion and generosity.  This is not always easy: it means taking time out from our daily routine, it means speaking out for what we believe, it means putting our money where we want our hearts to be.  It means opening ourselves to the transforming love of God.

So, let me ask, have you seen Christ today? When you do, how will you respond?