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Joseph may have been alone. But he was not abandoned.

Sept. 20th City Church SF had the joy of hosting Zach Lambert, lead pastor of Restore in Austin, Texas and author of "Better Ways to Read the Bible: Transforming a Weapon of Harm into a Tool of Healing." Tune in to hear more about Zach Lambert's story and perhaps walk alongside this message throughout your week, asking: "How is God speaking and what is the Holy Spirit telling me?"

The God who weeps, heals, and forgives can feel hard to square with the God of Genesis 6, who wipes the earth clean without warning. But the flood story doesn't end in judgment—it ends in a rainbow. In "A Future Bigger Than the Flood," we walk through Genesis 6, 8, and 9 to find a God who is still writing something bigger than the wreckage.

A sermon on Jeremiah 22:1-5; 13-17 for labor day

If kinship is about the soil of our life together, this next year is about what seeds we’re planting. It’s about perceiving the new things sprouting up in our midst. It’s about creating the conditions for discernment, for recognizing the Spirit’s activity and cultivating the attunement necessary to follow where she leads.

The life of faith does not always unfold according to the blueprint.

Psalm 73

John 21:15-19

May each step root us deeply in the loveliness of the present moment. May the twists and turns on the way encourage us to be ever open to the new in our lives. May the still point at the center keep us mindful of that sacred place in our own inner being. May the path outward and beyond empower us to radiate peace and justice to all. May the labyrinth journey weave in us a sense of everlasting connectedness with the great journey of life.          — adapted from Barbara Bailey, RSHM

Take a centered breath. Breathing in 1, 2, 3, 4 and out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 again Breathing in 1, 2, 3, 4 and out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and again Breathing in 1, 2, 3, 4 and out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Take a gentle moment and consider what salvation looks like in your life today. Ask yourself... What might salvation look like in your life today? Where must I ask for forgiveness? Where am I withholding it? What repair is mine to make? What expectation must I release to God? Now, let us speak this gentle invitation from Bishop Tutu: God forgives unconditionally. So can weThe thief on the cross still dies on his crossBut forgiveness will set his spirit free.And what of you and me, standing on the ground with our piles of hurts mounting so high?Will we die a thousand deaths before we die?Yearning for revenge, will we die of that thirst?Will the rage that fills us be the stake on which we burn?Will we stumble over every resistance placed in our way?Remain mired in the misery of it all?Or will we take the chance that we might break freeby following this path where it leadsPast the whys and lies about how it cannot be.Here is our chance to break free.

In his book, The Wounded Healer, Henri Nouwen wrote that “Compassion is born when we discover in the center of our own existence not only that God is God and man is man, but also that our neighbor is really our fellow man.”

Matthew 5:38-42

We've been taught that forgiveness means forgetting, excusing, or automatically rebuilding trust. This week at City Church SF, we untangle those myths — forgiveness isn't denial, it isn't saying the harm didn't matter, and it isn't the same as reconciliation, which demands safety, truth, and willingness from everyone involved. Instead, we explore forgiveness as an act of reclamation: a refusal to let injury define who you are, a refusal to let resentment write your story, and a refusal to hand your future over to whoever or whatever hurt you. This is a conversation for anyone carrying old wounds and wondering what healing actually requires.

The Hebrew midwives embody the best of what we celebrate at Pride: creative resistance, campy mockery, loving courage, and defiant hope to operate in the in-between space and bring forth life in the face of death. Pride is an occasion for us both to remember how far we have come and to strengthen ourselves for the work we have ahead, with joy and celebration and a love that will never let us go.

A leper. A paralyzed man. A tax collector. Three people on the margins. Three encounters with Jesus. Three moments that rewrite the rules. In Mark 1:40–2:17, Jesus doesn't just heal — he challenges everything his community believed about who belongs, who's forgiven, and who gets a second chance. No one's status is too low. No one's sin is too great. And no one is so far gone that they can't begin again. Jesus is expanding the theological imagination of the people around him — and ours.