Arapaho UMC

Arapaho UMC

Progressive theology and engaging Sermons & podcasts from an affirming church in Richardson, Texas (just North of Dallas). We are intentional about our faith development: we ask questions, develop deep and lasting friendships, and work together to make a positive difference in our community. Nobody is perfect here, but being a part of this place brings out the best of us.

  1. 2d ago

    Religious Trauma & Finding a Home Anyways

    Many of us carry some sort of religious trauma, that even when we think we’ve handled it enough to come back to church, catches us off guard. A word or even a smell can send us back to a time when we weren’t sure about our faith or belonging due to deep church hurt. So, what do you do? Do you leave again, unable to exist alongside the triggers, or do we find a way to live with them, but not letting them control our lives?  Talking about my experience in graduate school when I left the church after being done with its BS, and finding my way back only to still be talking with my therapist nearly 11 years later and realizing that I still have a lot of unpacking of imbedded theologies that routinely try to ruin my life, even as a Pastor who studied these things and know they’re toxic theology.  Our trauma is ours, but we are not our traumas. We may leave the church because of the harms it has done to us, but God does not leave us when we walk out those doors and say we are never coming back. God stays with us, all throughout our lives, whether we end up back in a pew or not.  Coming back to church is a recognition that we are beloved children of God and that we deserve a place that is what we need for our souls and hearts. Returning to church is defiance to those that say we don’t belong and ran us out the door. And in our stories, we can find truths and understandings that shaped us. These truths are vital to the work of the church in becoming more like the kindom of God, a place of healing and hope for our own souls and our communities.

    25 min
  2. Jun 21

    Religious Trauma and Finding a Home Anyways

    Many of us carry some sort of religious trauma, that even when we think we’ve handled it enough to come back to church, catches us off guard. A word or even a smell can send us back to a time when we weren’t sure about our faith or belonging due to deep church hurt. So, what do you do? Do you leave again, unable to exist alongside the triggers, or do we find a way to live with them, but not letting them control our lives?  Talking about my experience in graduate school when I left the church after being done with its BS, and finding my way back only to still be talking with my therapist nearly 11 years later and realizing that I still have a lot of unpacking of imbedded theologies that routinely try to ruin my life, even as a Pastor who studied these things and know they’re toxic theology.  Our trauma is ours, but we are not our traumas. We may leave the church because of the harms it has done to us, but God does not leave us when we walk out those doors and say we are never coming back. God stays with us, all throughout our lives, whether we end up back in a pew or not.  Coming back to church is a recognition that we are beloved children of God and that we deserve a place that is what we need for our souls and hearts. Returning to church is defiance to those that say we don’t belong and ran us out the door. And in our stories, we can find truths and understandings that shaped us. These truths are vital to the work of the church in becoming more like the kindom of God, a place of healing and hope for our own souls and our communities.

    30 min
  3. Jun 14

    Today I learned... About Racism

    Most of us learned a version of American history with a lot of gaps in it. This sermon is a personal reckoning with one of the most important: Juneteenth — what it actually was, what it means, and why its story is still unfolding. On June 19, 1865, Union soldiers arrived in Galveston with news that had been true for two and a half years: you are free. You've been free. Those in power had simply refused to say so. The sermon moves through what Juneteenth teaches us about truth and its relationship to liberation — not just as a historical fact, but as a theological claim. The gospel, as theologian James Cone spent his life arguing, is not only about the saving of souls but about the liberation of the oppressed in all its forms. The cross stands not in comfortable sanctuaries of the powerful, but in solidarity with those who suffer. Jesus of Nazareth, standing in his own hometown synagogue, quoted Isaiah — good news to the poor, freedom for the captive — and said: this is what I'm here to do. The sermon wrestles honestly with where the church has failed — including our own Methodist tradition's complicated history — and what it looks like to do the ongoing work. Drawing on the framework of White Fragility and the broader racial justice literature, this isn't a lecture from the outside. It's a testimony from the inside: here is what I didn't know, here is what I've had to unlearn, here is what I'm still learning. The invitation isn't guilt — it's honesty. And honesty, the gospel teaches us, is where freedom begins.

    24 min
  4. May 24

    Christianity Without Cultural Conformity

    The early church almost didn't make it — not because of persecution from outside, but because of a question from inside: do you have to become one of us first? The Gentile breakthrough in Acts 10 is the story of the Spirit repeatedly, insistently answering: no. Peter's rooftop vision, the household of Cornelius, the Jerusalem Council, Paul's confrontation of Peter in Galatia — this is not a tidy triumph. It is a community stumbling, arguing, reverting, and slowly learning that the gospel does not belong to any one culture's expression of it. God shows no partiality. That was the revolutionary claim. And the early church kept having to relearn it. Fear-based Christianity has always confused the message with the messenger's culture — demanding not just faithfulness to Jesus, but conformity to one particular way of being Christian. The right music, the right vocabulary, the right politics, the right affect in worship, the right way of reading scripture. The price of belonging has often been becoming someone else. And that is not the gospel. That is colonialism wearing a cross. But Paul's vision in 1 Corinthians 12 is the body the Gentile breakthrough was always moving toward: not uniformity, but genuine, irreducible difference held together by love. The eye cannot say to the hand "I have no need of you." Every part is itself. Every part is needed. The body doesn't work despite its diversity — it works because of it. What the Spirit was doing in Acts 10 was building something that looked like that: a community where Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female could belong fully without having to flatten what made them who they were. We measure faithfulness not by conformity to our cultural preferences, but by the fruit of love, justice, and transformation. That means we can hold our convictions passionately and humbly — confident in the Jesus we follow, curious about what God might be doing in expressions of faith that look different from ours. It means asking honestly: what are our versions of "you have to become Jewish first?" What cultural requirements have we quietly attached to belonging that have nothing to do with Jesus? And it means building, right here, the kind of community where people don't have to check their story, their culture, or their questions at the door — because this body only works if every part shows up as itself.

    24 min
  5. May 12

    Salvation Without Shame

    Perhaps nowhere has fear distorted faith more than in our understanding of salvation. Many of us learned that we were fundamentally broken, deserving only punishment, saved only by believing the right things about Jesus' death. Shame became the foundation of our relationship with God rather than love. But Paul declares: there is no condemnation. What changes when salvation is about liberation rather than transaction, transformation rather than punishment-avoidance? Fear-based salvation starts with the assumption that humans are so depraved that we deserve eternal torture, making salvation primarily about escaping what we deserve rather than becoming who we're meant to be. It creates Christians who are grateful for rescue but still fundamentally see themselves as worms, sinners, or failures rather than beloved children of God. But what if salvation is less about God's anger being satisfied and more about God's love being revealed? What if it's about liberation from everything that keeps us from flourishing—fear, shame, isolation, injustice, despair? What if Jesus didn't come to appease divine wrath but to reveal divine love and show us what human life looks like when it's lived in full connection with God? Salvation without shame begins with the radical affirmation that we are beloved, created in God's image, worthy of love not because of what we believe but because of whose we are. It sees Jesus' death not as payment to an angry God but as the ultimate demonstration of divine love—God entering human suffering to transform it from the inside out. This doesn't minimize sin or pretend our choices don't matter. It reframes sin as anything that separates us from love—our own flourishing and our neighbors' well-being—rather than as crimes against cosmic law. Salvation becomes about healing rather than legal transaction, restoration rather than rescue, transformation rather than transportation. When we understand salvation as God's yes to human flourishing rather than God's no to human depravity, everything changes. We can receive grace without shame, grow without fear, and share good news that's actually good. And that makes faith finally free to become what it was always meant to be: a source of life, love, and liberation for all.

    29 min

Ratings & Reviews

4.8
out of 5
11 Ratings

About

Progressive theology and engaging Sermons & podcasts from an affirming church in Richardson, Texas (just North of Dallas). We are intentional about our faith development: we ask questions, develop deep and lasting friendships, and work together to make a positive difference in our community. Nobody is perfect here, but being a part of this place brings out the best of us.