Rise Up with Love and Mercy

Sermons from 

Mission Hills UCC

San Diego, California

Rev. Dr. David Bahr

david.bahr@missionhillsucc.org

April 5, 2026

“Rise Up with Love and Mercy”

Matthew 28: 1-10 – Common English Bible

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary came to look at the tomb. 2 Look, there was a great earthquake, for an angel from the Lord came down from heaven. Coming to the stone, he rolled it away and sat on it. 3 Now his face was like lightning and his clothes as white as snow. 4 The guards were so terrified of him that they shook with fear and became like dead men. 5 But the angel said to the women, “Don’t be afraid. I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6 He isn’t here, because he’s been raised from the dead, just as he said. Come, see the place where they laid him. 7 Now hurry, go and tell his disciples, ‘He’s been raised from the dead. He’s going on ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there.’ I’ve given the message to you.”

8 With great fear and excitement, they hurried away from the tomb and ran to tell his disciples. 9 But Jesus met them and greeted them. They came and grabbed his feet and worshipped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Go and tell my brothers that I am going into Galilee. They will see me there.”

Anne Lamott’s Sunday morning ritual for many years was the flea market.  She found joy in discovering treasures buried in the chaos of her Bay Area neighborhood.  Anne didn’t grow up religious.  In fact, her parents actively taught her to be cautious, suspicious of religion.  But one day she heard music coming through the open doors of a rundown Presbyterian Church next to the market.

The sounds of their music had accompanied her shopping for months, but something about it that day caught her off guard.  Even though the music wasn’t very good, she said, she decided to walk over and listen outside the door.  It was as though the music held both joy and sorrow at the same time.  Like her life.

In her 20s, Anne’s life was unraveling.  Her father had died and she carried a lot of anger and sadness.  She was drinking a lot more than usual, struggling with bulimia, and living with a deep sense of loneliness.  Something about the music broke through her layers of protection.

After standing outside for weeks, one Sunday she slipped inside to listen from a back pew.  But that was it.  She left before the sermon, wary of the content she expected to hear.  

This became her new Sunday routine.  Flea market, slip in to listen for a while and slip back out.  She was clear that she didn’t believe what they believed.  And yet she kept coming back.  And one day to her surprise, she stayed and found herself back every Sunday.

Anne didn’t go looking for faith.  She didn’t stop shopping and walk over to that church expecting anything to change.  But something happened she could not explain.  Something she could not ignore.

And yet, she couldn’t talk about it with her friends. They had a shared distrust of Christians.  In particular, the claims of their creeds seemed absurd.  

And then one night, alone in her thoughts, she felt as if Jesus was in the room with her, “hunkered down in the corner,” waiting patiently.

She wasn’t afraid of the moment.  But she was afraid of what it might mean because she didn’t

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