February 2026

Pastor Message: 

Do No Harm. Do Good. Stay in Love with God.

I often find myself returning to the first of John Wesley’s Simple Rules: “Do no harm.”

I have long wondered why the founder of the Methodist movement did not begin with “Do good.” Perhaps it is because harm is rarely done by people who believe themselves to be evil. Most of us are deeply convinced that we stand on the side of good. We cannot imagine that, in the name of goodness, we might wound another. And so, wearing the face of good, harm is done.

This often begins with the assumption that we are always in a position to help— an assumption that can quietly become a violation of another person’s dignity or freedom.

I call this the logic of empire. The logic of empire is everywhere: racism, sexism, ageism, patriarchy, colonialism—all the “isms” that present themselves with good intentions, sometimes even with the posture of a savior.

We see this logic at work in our world today: “I will save them.” “They cannot govern themselves.”

And when violence is required for that so-called salvation, it is no longer recognized as violence at all. Harm—and the suffering it causes—is overlooked, disguised, and ignored.

Is there any arrogance greater than always assuming we are securely on the side of good? And what if our religion itself reinforces that certainty?

Scripture tells us that God declares creation good. We hear words like: “You are chosen,” “You are clean,” “You are healed,” “You are saved.” Through baptism and faith, we trust that we are forgiven and claimed by grace.

And yet, a difficult question remains: Does our life actually show goodness to the world?

This question challenges those of us who assume we are always aligned with God’s justice and love. The grace of God declares our belonging—but our lives of faith must still bear witness.

Good and evil are entangled. Grace and sin are intertwined. Humanity is knotted up in it all—and God meets us within that tangle.

What we need, then, is God’s illuminating light and the courage to see ourselves truthfully. To admit that we are capable of doing harm in the name of good. Only when we face that uncomfortable truth does the possibility of real goodness begin to emerge.

In The Road by Cormac McCarthy, a son repeatedly asks his father a haunting question: “Dad, are we the good guys?” The father always answers, “Yes.” But the power of the scene lies not in the answer—it lies in the question that must keep being asked.

To me, the son’s fragile and trembling question—and the father’s steady answer—echo our own questions to God, and God’s continuing affirmation, as we stand on the threshold between the seasons of Epiphany and Lent.

Be good, Pastor Hyunwoong