Bow Mills United Methodist Church

04/10/2026

Risen Christ, the Easter story is a reminder that nothing could contain you—no tomb, no body, no violent act. You are alive in the world, unfettered and beckoning us to follow. Lead me to the places you have called me to be. Show me where you’re headed. I want to be there, too. Amen.

—prayer by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |

04/09/2026

Every morning the sun rises,
majestic and steady.
She is greeted
in all her strength
with the joyous cacophony of birdsong.
I like to believe
this holy chorus
is the birds telling each other—
I’m here.
We made it through the night.
You’re not alone.
What good, good news.

—excerpt from the poem “Birdsong” by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |

04/08/2026

Living God, there is so much to be grateful for. Even in the midst of death, new life emerges. Thank you for the flowers that push up through the snow. Thank you for the sun that rises each morning. Thank you for young people who bring energy to tired places. Thank you for hope on the horizon. Thank you for birdsong and new friends and the old, old story of your endless love. Thank you for all the things that help me feel full to the brim with life. Amen.

—prayer by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |

04/07/2026

“How can we trust resurrection when death is on the world’s throne?

Because Jesus knows what we will always need to be reminded of: the good news is greater than any tyrant. The good news of God is more alive than anything that tries to kill God, more alive than anything that tries to kill the imago dei in all of us. Kings come and kings go, and we may tremble still—but God? God shakes the earth with power and might so tender and so fresh it can make a tomb bloom with new life.

Amen, alleluia.”

—Rev. Lizzie McManus-Dail (.mcmizzie), from her commentary on Matthew 28:1-10 |

04/06/2026

“The good news is alive in the world. Do not be afraid. Go back to Galilee. Go back to Galilee where it all started. Go back to Galilee and celebrate like we did at the beginning when we were not afraid, when these words of liberation had not yet drawn the trappings of imperial ex*****on.

Here in this artwork, the crowd is celebrating. Figures are dancing and dancing and dancing. Doves fly among the dancers, breaking borders, Holy Spirit. This throng is in the vacant space of the empty cross.… Around the dancing figures in Galilee, patterns of doves disperse outward. The good news, the euaggelion, is alive in the world.”

—from the artist’s statement for “Meet Me in Galilee” by Hannah Garrity |

04/05/2026

When we backed Jesus into a corner,
he loved and loved and loved again.
In this war-torn world,
we could do the same.
We could ground the bomber planes,
empty the gun cartridges,
unclench our fists, soften our jaws.
They say it can’t be done,
but don’t believe them.
In this war-torn world, we could try—
love and love and love again.

—excerpt from the poem “Love & Love & Love Again” by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |

04/04/2026

“Judas betrays Jesus, and his emancipatory mission, with a kiss that signals to the authorities: he is the one you seek! … In the chaos of the moment, forgetting the nonviolence Jesus has modeled, his disciples ready their weapons. One even swings his sword and cuts off the ear of an arresting official. Immediately, Jesus reminds his people that they fight with words, ideas, and vision. To press the point, he touches the wounded officer and heals him. The power of God that Jesus represents shows care even for the oppressor—even as Jesus uses God’s power to overturn systems of oppression.

Dying on the cross, Jesus reinforces his message of nonviolent resistance in the most heartbreaking of ways. As the authorities crucify him for proclaiming and prosecuting the hope of liberation for all God’s people, Jesus asks God to forgive them. To the end, he fights them by loving them.

Our calling is to go and do likewise. Fight: Consistently. Defiantly. Furiously. Nonviolently. Whenever and wherever we encounter brokenness, injustice, and oppression. To do otherwise is to betray everything for which he lived and died.”

—Rev. Dr. Brian Blount, from his commentary on Luke 22:47–23:46 |

Art: "Revealed Through Nonviolence” by Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman |

04/04/2026

04/03/2026

You can trade in love
for a bag of coins.
And even then,
even still,
even now,
Jesus will love you enough to
wash your feet.
If you hear nothing else in the gospel,
hear this.

—excerpt from the poem “If You Hear Nothing Else, Then Hear This” by Rev. Sarah A. Speed

Art: "Flow" by Carmelle Beaugelin Caldwell () |

04/02/2026

“Jesus is not just performing; he is extending genuine mercy. All confrontational nonviolence done in Jesus’ name invites the oppressor to be human again, not through dehumanizing power, but through the humility of our interdependence on each other. It is both unsurprising and devastating that, after his feet have been washed, Judas still runs to betray his Lord—just as it remains unsurprising and devastating when our enemies and oppressors do the same. But Jesus—truly human, and truly God—knew this would happen.

And he washes Judas's feet, anyway.”

—Rev. Lizzie McManus-Dail (.mcmizzie), from her commentary on John 13:1-35 |

04/01/2026

HOPE YOU CAN JOIN US!

04/01/2026

The children saw it first—
a little body gasping to survive.
They cried out—
Quick! We have to save it!
We grabbed our buckets.
We sprinted to the waterline.
We scooped up the dying fish
and returned it to the waves.

The kids sagged with relief as the fish jolted to life,
a tiny resurrection in front of our very eyes.
Full of pride, I said to them—
You did something good.
Today, you saved a life.
A seven-year-old with sun-kissed cheeks
took the bucket from my hands and said,
I’d like to save some more.

—excerpt from the poem “For the Sake of Tiny Resurrections” by Rev. Sarah A. Speed |