God, help me walk in Jesus’ footsteps – June 29

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 106:1-18; PM Psalm 106:19-48; Num. 22:1-21; Rom. 6:12-23; Matt. 21:12-22

The Presiding Bishop, the Most Rev. Michael Curry, held a ZOOM conference call with the clergy of the diocese on Friday morning, leading up to the consecration of Glenda Curry as Bishop Coadjutor for the Diocese of Alabama this past weekend. He reflected on Jesus’ words from John 15:5, 9 – “I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing…As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” He lingered upon the word “abide” and explored the imagery of branches attached to the vine of Jesus.

Bp. Michael Curry has noticed a pattern in his walk as a Christian. Inevitably, during the times he has listened to himself more than the influence of Jesus, he stumbled. When he has followed the steps of Jesus over and above his own desires, he’s felt on the right path -- closer to God, a branch upon the vine of Jesus. Then he said, “When we have walked in Jesus’ footsteps…saints – flawed sinners though they may be – have popped up.” He named saints like Francis of Assisi, Martin Luther King, Fannie Lou Hamer, Desmond Tutu, and Pope Francis, among others.

This message – abiding in Jesus’ love as the vine, so that our branches may bear beautiful fruit – resonates in tandem with our reading from Romans 6. When I try desperately to have all of life under my control – especially when so much feels like it’s spinning wildly – I stumble. To make it worse, the tension of managing the many moving parts of life builds up in my shoulders and neck – and can overflow into staggering headaches. As John preached yesterday on this very same passage from Romans, I scribbled this paraphrase: sin can be defined as thinking we have it all under control. When we sin, we make missteps. We stumble. It is that sin which weighs us down. What a burden this creates, dominating our mortal bodies.

In thinking we have everything under control, we are not acknowledging the overarching role of God in our lives. The role of love. The role of salvation. The role of sanctification: setting us apart to serve God’s purposes in the world. We become branches detached from the vine, and we miss the wisdom and grace that comes from walking in Jesus’ footsteps. And yet, when our eyes are open to the truth that God is in control, “sin will have no dominion over [us], since [we] are not under law but under grace” (v.14). In that shift, our hands are surrendered for God’s use, and with deep intention our hearts are committed to God.

Today, grab the hand of Jesus. Go to God in prayer. Ask for the Holy Spirit to inspire and guide your steps today, so that you may abide in the love of Jesus. That’s what I am going to try to do, with God’s help.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

·       Think about a time you have sinned, or stumbled. What were the factors?

·       Ponder how you might walk more closely in Jesus’ footsteps.

Daily Challenge

• Pray the Lord’s Prayer, imagining you are holding Jesus’ hand. Reflect on how the imagery of closeness can reconnect you to the vine of God’s love.

Kumbaya - June 27

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 107:33-43, 108:1-6(7-13); PM Psalm 33; Num. 20:14-29; Rom. 6:1-11; Matt. 21:1-11

Psalm 33 makes me happy and brings me comfort! It is absolutely a psalm/song of praise of God’s sovereignty, goodness, and divine generosity, which is the core reality of our world. I remember the Rev. Denson Franklin would often refer to poetry in his preaching and would say that poetry is best when read aloud. Well, the psalms are a form of poetry and I’m glad we get to read them aloud together for the Daily Office. This one evokes so much joy, it needs to be enjoyed collectively. And it seems fitting to be filled with joy today which is the day of the Rev. Glenda Curry’s ordination and consecration as the new Bishop Coadjutor for the Episcopal Diocese of Alabama. Thanks be to God!

Right from the beginning of Psalm 33, a vivid picture is painted that portrays a glorious and festive celebration of those who love God with rejoicing, music and voices lifted high, and God’s participation by spreading loving-kindness all around. It’s a picture-perfect image of peace and harmony, it’s like they’re singing Kumbaya on steroids! Kumbaya means “come by here” and I need to hear something uplifting and comforting like this today.

A few days ago, I was complaining that it feels like the same things continue to dominate my thoughts and I am riding an emotional roller coaster. The situation with COVID-19 seems to be getting worse and more cases are hitting close to home. I’m tired of physical distancing and miss face-to-face connection through friends, family, and worship. There are people who are not working, who are underemployed, and some who have lost their jobs due to riots. This job situation is maddening. I support the good cops who are serving for our safety and protection, yet I have also been disturbed by the police brutality. Of course, I believe all lives matter, and I understand the movement for Black Lives Matter, and I support peaceful protests, but it’s exhausting to be focusing so much effort toward listening, learning, and discerning how to be part of the solution. All of this compounds the issues that already existed among the sick, vulnerable, and marginalized before everything went to Hell in March 2020. Things are messy and complicated right now. I think it’s still going to take some time for us to get to a new place of stability and well-being, but I do have hope and believe we’ll get there, with God’s help.

The last verse of Psalm 33 is one that serves as a Kumbaya type mantra: Let your loving-kindness, O Lord, be upon us, as we have put our trust in you (Ps. 33:22). God’s loving-kindness can heal us and heal the world, if we put our trust in God. Let us pray for our minds to be quieted and our hearts to be opened so that we may receive God’s love and healing for ourselves and the world.

 -- Susan Oakes, Seminarian

Susan Oakes is a rising senior at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas. This summer, she is serving as a seminarian intern at Saint Stephen's, her sponsoring parish for ordination.

Questions for Self-Reflection:

• How are you holding up lately?

• How are you coping?

• What encouragement for others can you offer?

Daily Challenge:

Commit Ps. 33:22 to memory and call upon it when you feel overwhelmed, distressed, uncertain, or afraid.

Jesus, I See You - June 26

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; Num. 20:1-13; Rom. 5:12-21; Matt. 20:29-34

We each hold different images of Jesus. He is portrayed as a shepherd, teacher, healer, son, friend, redeemer, and more. There’s one image I’ve been blind to, and that is the image of liberator. I must admit that I initially resisted the image of liberator because it feels emotionally charged and makes me feel defensive. Yet, this expanded imagery is an important part of my formation that has surprised me with new insights about my relationships with God and neighbor. I had the privilege of developing this new vision even more when I went on pilgrimage to the Holy Land for two weeks right after Christmas. We were able to keep up with the news of the emerging coronavirus, yet the focus of the pilgrimage never shifted from the purpose of Jesus’ life on earth and walking the path of some of the most important moments of his ministry, including his death and resurrection.

One of the last few mornings we were there, another pilgrim and I took advantage of our free time to go back to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. This is where the site of the Crucifixion, the Resurrection, the stone of anointing, the empty tomb, and the paschal fire are located. We spent time reflecting on our journey and praying together. The most profound moment was witnessing the prayers as people flowed through these spaces, especially the stone of anointing. I could sense their faith and trust in the power and mercy of Jesus as people would kneel down to kiss the stone and pray. I joined in praying and I can still remember the feeling of kneeling among other faithful people, smelling the fragrance of myrrh oil from the stone, and hearing the multitude of prayers and foot shuffles of the people surrounding me.

This experience of pilgrimage and prayer took me beyond reading about Jesus to seeing, walking, hearing, smelling, and feeling the places I’ve studied and opening my heart and mind to a richer understanding of his purpose. The sense of knowing things in my mind shifted to a special knowing in my heart and soul also. Jesus liberates us from our sinfulness and oppression through forgiveness, healing, teaching, and directing our lives.  I have discovered that I am oppressed, myself, by my sins, and I depend upon Jesus for liberation. Matthew’s passage about Jesus healing the sight of the two along the way from Jericho reminds me of my own sight being healed and the power of prayer. The good news I have for you is that you do not have to travel across the globe to encounter Jesus because he is ready to meet you along your journey wherever you are and eager to be in dialogue about what you need to be healed and made whole.

-- Susan Oakes, Seminarian

Susan Oakes is a rising senior at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas. This summer, she is serving as a seminarian intern at Saint Stephen's, her sponsoring parish for ordination.

Questions for Self-Reflection:

• What image comes to mind when you think of Jesus?

• What image do you resist, and why?

Daily Challenge:

• Consider your prayer life and what you to ask of Jesus to do for you through faith.

Guided by God's Love - June 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 105:1-22; PM Psalm 105:23-45; Num. 17:1-11; Rom. 5:1-11; Matt. 20:17-28

“…God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit…” (Romans 5:5)

I can’t read this passage from Romans without recalling the time that I ran a marathon. It’s hard to run a marathon, it’s not natural for a body to run that far, and it hurts…a LOT. It’s also like having a part time job because it’s very time consuming. It’s not like you just show up on race day and start running. NO! When someone decides to run a marathon, they spend months training for it. This involves running almost daily, as well as meal plans and extra time for physical therapy and naps. The runner also learns as the training gets harder to dig deeper into their soul for the drive to not quit this difficult thing. Then on race day, the runner gets in the right mind space to be able to push through the pain, with the goal to finish the race. And the race is not actually a race for speed, it’s a goal to finish. At the finish line, every runner wins the satisfaction of accomplishing something big that requires much suffering, endurance, character, and hope.

I think this marathon imagery is a good metaphor for the signs of our times right now. Striving to overcome the challenges of COVID-19, racial unrest, and economics requires the long, difficult, and painful commitment to get us to the finish line. I’m not sure if we even know where the finish line is located, but I think the concept still works. What this marathon imagery does NOT include is the crucial element of God’s love being poured into our hearts through the power of the Holy Spirit (Romans 5:5).

As Christians, we are guided by God’s love for us to reach the finish line of this hard race. Many of us are feeling a sharp sense of urgency for a better world and that’s the finish line we are racing toward. We have suffered such tremendous losses that there is now a creative tension between what has been the status quo and what is now possible. Guided by God’s love being poured into our hearts, we are striving for a world that reflects the good news of our forgiveness and restoration in Jesus Christ. God’s love is powerful, and this gives me hope that we will cross that finish line, though it is not quite in sight.

 -- Susan Oakes, Seminarian

Susan Oakes is a rising senior at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas. This summer, she is serving as a seminarian intern at Saint Stephen's, her sponsoring parish for ordination.

Questions for Self-Reflection:

• What sense of urgency do you feel for your world right now?

• What will it take to cross the finish line? 

Daily Challenge:

Watch for God’s love being present and guiding yourself or others. Gives thanks for this in your prayers.

Let Our Hearts Be Softened - June 24

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144; Num. 16:36-50; Rom. 4:13-25; Matt. 20:1-16

“Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?” (Matthew 20:15)

Today’s gospel passage is tricky, and being completely honest, I can easily get irritated with the workers who are hired last and receive the same wages as the first shift. And, of course, I always imagine myself among the workers who are first, the ones who are working the longest hours, bearing the burden in the scorching heat. Not fair. This parable fits right in line with the other parables Jesus has been telling about the kingdom of heaven and what it takes to receive eternal life. But I’m just not seeing the good news in this one…yet.

Because of my own irritation with this passage, I needed to do some digging to uncover the good news of this parable. That recurring phrase about the first being last and the last being first is hard and I was investigating that part. But what actually captured my attention is the word “envious” and it turns out this is an important word. Being envious has to do with how the world is seen. The eye is described a few chapters earlier as a lamp of the body. Is our eye healthy or unhealthy? If our eye is healthy, our whole body is full of light; to the contrary, an unhealthy eye fills the body with darkness. In this passage, the question Jesus asks, “are you envious because I am generous?” is the same as asking, “is your eye evil?” This gets my attention. Am I seeing God’s love and goodness, and reflecting the light of Christ in my life? Or am I envious and seeing through the eyes of judgment, fear, jealousy, and darkness? For me, as much as I hate to admit it, it’s both. Sometimes my sight is healthy and others it’s not.

This is not just any old vineyard Jesus portrays…this is God’s vineyard! This parable is about God’s love, justice, and mercy. God rewards those who are in the vineyard because these are God’s people and God loves them and wants to draw everyone to the vineyard. It doesn’t matter when, what matters is that everyone arrives. I think my irritation is rooted in my understanding of our capitalist economic system which is based on competition. BUT with God’s free gift economy there is no competition because there’s enough of God’s love, justice, and mercy to go around for as many people who seek God’s kingdom. In fact, in God’s vineyard – the kingdom of heaven – the more the merrier!

Someone offered prayers for our hearts to be softened during the Daily Office yesterday, and I think that gets to the heart of what the kingdom of heaven is about. The world needs us to release our envy and soften our hearts for each other right now. Softening our hearts allows us to reflect the light and love of Jesus. As we work for God’s kingdom, let us be glad that we are God’s people and welcome others to join in the work to receive the same love, justice, and mercy that we’ve already received.

-- Susan Oakes, Seminarian

Susan Oakes is a rising senior at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas. This summer, she is serving as a seminarian intern at Saint Stephen's, her sponsoring parish for ordination.

Questions for Self-Reflection:

• Have you ever invited someone into kingdom work or questioned someone else’s work?

Daily Challenge:

• In real life, it’s easy to hold the posture of envy and judgment. Think of a time that you have held this posture and pray about it, asking God to soften your heart.

Constant Contact - June 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 97, 99, [100]; PM Psalm 94, [95]; Num. 16:20-35; Rom. 4:1-12; Matt. 19:23-30

My husband observed on one of my visits home from seminary last year, “I love how your music follows you around wherever you go.” It’s true, I love music and it is often with me playing from my phone in my pocket. I’m not a great singer, but I often sing anyway. And when it’s the right song in the right moment, I sing loud and proud. Music has a way of touching my soul that is beyond the lyrics alone. Music sets the tone, enhances a mood, or helps me express myself, and I usually select my playlist accordingly. Certain songs also remind me of a certain person, time, or place.

Some time back, I heard about the Avett Brothers and I became obsessed with their music when I discovered they were singing about the story of my life. There was one song, in particular, that helped me make peace with God and myself because I had been experiencing a spiritual awakening and reckoning with some bad choices I had made. I had been finding my way back to God. Not only finding my way back, but running back to God because of my need for God. I had thought I had things under control on my own, but in fact, I didn’t have life so great on my own after all. In embracing my dependence on God, I began feeling joy I hadn’t experienced in quite some time. This Avett Brothers song is called “All My Mistakes.” I’m pretty sure it’s a love song about a woman, but for me, it’s a love song about my relationship with God.

 As time passed by, I noticed more songs that tell the story of my life and relationship with God. I began compiling a song list to tell my spiritual autobiography that includes a variety of songs from a variety of artists. Listening to the lyrics of songs usually keeps me connected to God in some way – be it through the lyrics, themselves, or through the emotions they evoke. Through music, I am in constant prayer.

Someone typed a comment during the service on Sunday that the music is as important as the preaching, and I don’t disagree with that statement. This is why music amplifies worship. The psalms are often chanted or sung as hymns that reflect our relationship with God through lament and petition, thanksgiving and praise. They reveal our absolute dependence on God. The laments are especially important because they help us re-establish our posture for praise.

 I have enjoyed learning to chant the psalms and sing canticles during seminary. Before seminary, I had only ever prayed Morning Prayer a few random times and wasn’t aware of its significance. Psalm 95, aka, the Venite (Latin for “come!”, the first word of the poem) has become one of my grounding psalms because it has become such a familiar hymn of celebrating God through Morning Prayer. This is also one of the (optional) appointed psalms for today, so I was excited to remind myself of its significance. It is not unlike the Avett Brothers song that reminds me of my dependence upon and praise of the Lord. Perhaps this psalm is becoming more familiar to you also over the months of daily Morning Prayer we’ve been practicing together. What songs and psalms reflect your relationship with God?

-- Susan Oakes, Seminarian

Susan Oakes is a rising senior at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas. This summer, she is serving as a seminarian intern at Saint Stephen's, her sponsoring parish for ordination.

 Questions for Self-Reflection

• What song or psalm connects with your spirit these days?

• What is it about this song or psalm that attracts you most?

Daily Challenge

• I invite you to listen carefully to the lyrics of this psalm and others to see what you notice through the words, the imagery evoked through metaphors, and other ways in which the heart and mind are addressed.

You Have Gone Too Far, Moses! - June 22

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52; Num. 16:1-19; Rom. 3:21-31; Matt. 19:13-22

You have gone too far, Moses! This is what Korah says when he confronts Moses, accusing him and Aaron of taking on too much leadership. Moses pushes back, stakes his claim as their leader, and even challenges the Levites as having gone too far. They’ve drawn a line in the sand against each other to compete for who is the holiest and right. There is mutiny, anger, and pride coming from all sides. I’m wondering if this scene feels familiar to anyone else besides me? 

I was recently chatting with my oldest son about his job and he described a component that’s called Quality Assurance. You might know what this is, but basically, Quality Assurance functions best by resolving problems at the root cause, rather than reacting to a problem once it’s gotten bigger than it was at the source, itself. Things can go too far. If the issue gets past Quality Assurance, it’s bigger, more expensive, and more complicated and challenging to resolve. We related this concept to some of the issues happening currently.

Have we gone too far? It seems like things have gotten too big and complex. Sometimes it feels like mutiny. Strong convictions abound. What if we employed the Quality Assurance method of examining what’s at the source of things we’re trying to solve? Perhaps we need to take a few steps back from the lines drawn in the sand and let go of anger and pride. In doing so, we can possibly come together with more give and take. There we might find less divisiveness and more peace, more quality. What if we used the Quality Assurance method of examining what’s at the source of ourselves and our spiritual lives? Would we live our lives and make decisions differently if we got to the heart of the matter of who we are?

In the reading from Matthew, Jesus is approached by someone doing this very thing, seeking their source for eternal life. Jesus instructs them to sell their possessions and give the money to the poor…then to follow Jesus. They leave in grief because they have many possessions. Has Jesus gone too far? It’s obviously not easy to follow Jesus, but eternal life doesn’t have to be some far-off destination; it can begin here and now. How far are we willing to go to follow Jesus?

-- Susan Oakes, Seminarian

Susan Oakes is a rising senior at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas. This summer, she is serving as a seminarian intern at Saint Stephen's, her sponsoring parish for ordination.

Questions for Self-Reflection:

• Consider your “possessions” – resources of time, money, material goods, or skills, or possessions of beliefs, values, knowledge, etc. What are your possessions? Have you examined them lately with the Quality Control method of who you are as a Christian?

Daily Challenge:

• What is Jesus asking you to give up in order to follow him? How far are you willing to go?

This too shall pass. It might feel like a Kidney Stone, but it will pass. - June 20

In 2000, a television show came out on HBO called, Curb Your Enthusiasm. I remember watching some of the first few episodes and telling others that it was the funniest show I had ever seen. But the more I watched the show, the more uncomfortable I became. The general premise of the show was based on the exaggerated life of Larry David, the creator of Seinfeld. Each episode felt more and more like watching a trainwreck unfold as David’s awkward faux pas would lead to some horrible embarrassing moment in his life or the life of his family. The more episodes I watched, the more anxious I became. And then I just gave up. “I can’t watch this anymore. Nothing good ever happens to him!”

But I was in the minority. Most people loved the show and Curb Your Enthusiasm ran for 10 seasons with an average rating of 92% on Rotten Tomatoes. For those of you who are not TV buffs, that is pretty darn good. As I read the Psalm for this morning, specifically Psalm 90, I have been thinking about my own antipathy with discomfort. Why couldn't I handle this great show? I want everything to resolve into a beautiful and happy ending, but that is exceptionally naïve. The best meme I have seen about 2020 is “This too shall pass. It might pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass.”

Psalm 90 begins by giving thanks to God for being our strength and refuge and naming all the wonderful things that God has done, but then it gets real. “In the morning, it is green and flourishes, in the evening it is dried up and withered (v.6).” Later, “The span of our life is seventy years, perhaps in strength even eighty; yet the sum of them is but labor and sorrow, for they pass away quickly and we are gone (v.10).” I am struck at the remarkable clarity of the Israelites to name life as a combination of labor and sorrow. They know better than anyone that life is not easy and not everything resolves with a beautiful and happy ending.

And yet, the psalmist asks for God to “make us glad by the measure of the days that you afflicted us and the years in which we suffered adversity (v.15)” and my absolute favorite, “May the graciousness of the Lord our God be upon us; prosper the work of our hands; prosper our handiwork (v.17).” Even when life is incredibly challenging, the Israelites were asking for their work to be the work of God, and to be glad in the life that they had. They weren’t scared of discomfort.

I don’t know about you, but 2020 kind of feels like watching Curb Your Enthusiasm; there seems no logical way this is going to end well for anyone. But if I really believed that I would be discounting the beautiful tradition that has been passed down to us. Instead of being anxious about where this story will go, Psalm 90 is asking me to be a little more faithful, and to see God as a part of the work that we all are doing in the midst of it. This too shall pass. It might pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass.

--John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

• What parts of this year make you the most anxious?

• Can you see God blessing your handiwork in the midst of this?

Daily Challenge

• Read Psalm 90. Try to give thanks for the challenges you have faced this year, including things that have been lost.

Why do I feel wronged when we Disagree – June 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Num. 13:1-3,21-30; Rom. 2:25-3:8; Matt. 18:21-35

I have thought a lot recently about asking people to fast from social media. While we are at it, a fast from the news might not be a bad idea either. But then I log on to Facebook every day to stream our services or prepare for Sunday worship and it dawned on me that if I asked people to fast from social media, we might not have anyone attend church!  Maybe not everything about social media is so bad. 

But I joke about this because it seems to me that much of what I end up reading online is aimed at stoking anger.  It is easy for me to get worked up at another position, or I find myself outraged at the behavior of other people as I try to agree with a position.  It becomes too easy for me (and I wonder if you feel the same way) to then believe that when a person holds what I find to be an offensive position, that I have been wronged by that person.  Of course, this is not true in almost all cases, but it seems like our common civic discourse is aimed at not only dividing us but entitling us to a feeling of being wronged by the other.    

In today’s Gospel, Jesus reminds Peter that you don’t forgive someone who has wronged you seven times, but seventy-seven.  I actually don’t think we are supposed to keep tabs and many people interpret this text to be infinite times.  It’s not about a number for Jesus.  I wonder if it would be helpful if we applied what Jesus suggests not only to when we are wronged, but when we feel wronged as well. What Jesus sets up is a posture of forgiveness that becomes a virtue that shapes our life. Maybe this way of being could turn our anger into empathy, our outrage into listening, and our feeling unsettled into seeking understanding.  At the very least it might move us back to being able to hold diverse and divergent positions in a healthy tension. 

--John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

• Have any of your relationships with close friends who hold different views than you changed in the last few months?  What about the people you are not very close to?

Daily Challenge

• During our Morning Prayer worship services, we have been confessing and receiving God’s absolution.  This week, try hearing the absolution being offered to the people who frustrate you the most. 

God and the Pacifier-Stuffy Combo - June 18

Today’s Reflections: AM Psalm [83] or 34; PM Psalm 85, 86; Num. 12:1-16; Rom. 2:12-24; Matt. 18:10-20

I was walking down Jemison trail last weekend when I came upon something unique. On top of a sign was one of those rememberable pacifiers that have the stuffed animal attached. A person walking that day had likely picked it up and put in a place where the owner’s family might find it again. We had the same special pacifiers when my children were much younger and the general rule of thumb was never leave the house without it. A pacifier can do wonders to soothe a crying a child, but a pacifier with a stuffed animal, it’s the ultimate source of comfort. The feeling of walking by that pacifier-stuffy combo left me with a feeling of dread. What if some poor child is bellowing their heart out and the parents can’t do anything to stop it. I am betting that a few hours later, some poor, worn-out mother or father, would come panting down Jemison trail, exhausted, to have their spirits lifted with this gift in plain sight.

Now that you have this image in your head, imagine the older siblings. They probably want to go get ice cream at Doodles, or a treat from Marble Slab. Their parents promised them this gift after a week of following instructions, saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, and doing all their chores. But now their morning has been shaken because the parents are on the hunt for the baby’s special binky. This is why older siblings are often so frustrated at their younger counterparts. The party is often ruined just so the youngest can be made whole. “What about everyone else?” cries the older sister.

In today’s Gospel, Matthew’s Gospel addresses a similar dilemma. Jesus says to his disciples, “What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.” I have read this passage being quoted a lot lately when people reference marginalized communities hurting or crying out. Wouldn’t God be seeking them?

I’m an oldest sibling, so the story I have imaged from the beloved pacifier I saw on Saturday, brings back memories, of wanting to keep moving forward, but having to allow my sister to catch up. I wonder how those ninety-nine sheep were feeling. Were they complaining to each other about what should be theirs or what they should do next? Were they frustrated that the shepherd was ignoring them? Did they believe that the shepherd didn’t think they mattered?

Maybe I’m feeling a little guilty. I wish instead of me worrying about the opportunities that I missed, I could have seen the beauty of the care and love and nurture of someone else who needed it more. I saw it when I passed the pacifier, and I wonder where I will see it next.

— John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

• Have there been times where you have been a part of a group and the group couldn’t advance because of someone else? Did an instructor spend too much time with a person who was struggling? What did you feel at the moment?

Daily Reflection

• Find one way of offering a helping hand to someone in need today, specifically something that you haven’t needed help with before.

Faith like a Child – June 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Num. 11:24-33 (34-35); Rom. 1:28-2:11; Matt. 18:1-9

This summer, our 20-year-old nephew, Will, has come to live with us as he interns at a local bank.  Having Will stay with us has been a whole lot of fun, not only for Anne and me, but our children as well.  Watching our oldest son act almost as if he has an older brother for the first time, and maybe Will having younger siblings is pretty interesting.  Will looked at our son yesterday and said, “Jack, this is primetime for you.  My dad always said the best time to be alive is between the ages of 6-10.  It’s all fun all the time and no responsibility!”  I would have said Will’s age of the early 20s was more fun, but his comment has me considering the alternative. 

What is it that often makes those adolescent years so much fun?  I wonder if it is the curiosity with which one embraces life.  Or maybe the persistent asking of why while having a hopeful optimism that all shall be well.  I am sure not every child’s experience is beautiful, but I suspect the odds are in their favor that time and experience hasn’t worn them down too much.  There is often a beautiful faith in the parent to be able to fix just about anything.  Later that concept is shattered when we realize our parents are just as clueless as we are at their age, but the child has yet to realize that. 

Maybe, it is with some of these same thoughts, that the author of Matthew’s Gospel shares the story of Jesus reminding the disciples to have faith like a child.  “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”  What is it about children that set them apart from adults?  Is it their faith mixed with a general curiosity about everything else? 

I keep watching a natural posturing of defensiveness in our current climate of common life in the world.  Maybe it’s not unique to the craziness of 2020 but is an attribute to adulthood.  We have gone through a lot to get to the place where we are, so we ought to know something!   But children approach things (usually and on a good day) with curiosity. They are open to learning something new. Maybe our Gospel for today is an invitation to consider that we might not know it all, that we are called to have a posture of curiosity, so that we might always be open to learn something new.  And if you also think the 20s are the best, then the best is yet to come.   

— John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

• What ideas or thoughts did you have as a child that haven’t panned out as you thought they would?

• Where does the wisdom you have gained from life-experience get in the way of living a faithful life?

Daily Challenge

• Think of the concerns that are most pressing to you today.  Craft a response of wisdom that you imagine an eight-year-old offering.

Where will the Cloud lead us next - June 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 78:1-39; PM Psalm 78:40-72; Num. 11:1-23; Rom. 1:16-25; Matt. 17:22-27

Our reading from Numbers this morning takes place in the time period where the Israelites were wandering in the wilderness for 40 years.  The Israelites finally set up the tabernacle (the place where they worship God) and the author talks about a cloud that rests over the tabernacle.  Every so often, the cloud would get up and leave, and so would the Israelites, off to follow the cloud to where God was leading them next. 

This image sets up a motif of movement.  I am guessing that just when many of the Israelites were feeling settled, the cloud would depart and any sense of rootedness would dissipate, mirroring the loss of the cloud that had gone before them.  The focus is not only on the Israelites being left to wander in the desert for 40 years; they keep having to move, to follow God to a new place further unsettling their own sense of security.  

As we read this Scripture, I am alarmed at the parallels within our own tradition’s understanding of God. We keep moving.  I grew up in the church in the era when women’s ordination was being recognized in the Episcopal Church.  I thought we had made it and were this beautiful vision of love and welcome.  Then I heard the stories of classmates, women and LGBTQ+ friends who had such painful experiences in discernment processes and I began to realize how naïve I was. I thought we had figured out how to affirm the dignity of every human being, and yet realizing how difficult as a Church it has been to affirm that Black Lives Matter.  We are being prodded more and more every day to explore how we have yet to fully realize the kingdom of God in our midst. It feels like just when we think we are safe and comfortable with where God has led us, the cloud moves.  I’ll confess, keeping up means I have no idea where we are headed. 

The good news seems to me that we don’t have to know, and there is a little grace in coming from where we have been. Instead of guilt, we could give thanks that God has been moving us.  If we are to invest in the image of God as presented in our reading from Numbers, God keeps inviting us somewhere new.  It’s hard work. In the Psalm for this afternoon, we are reminded that the people often disobeyed the Lord in the wilderness.  The complained over and over again. My best guess is they were struggling with all the change and movement and growth.  But we also know the rest of the story. God led the Israelites into the Promise Land, the same promise that God has for all of us.  Maybe our response could include considering that kingdom might not look like we had originally imagined. 

— John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

• Where do you feel unsettled in your faith? 

• Where do you feel unsettled in your understanding of the world?

Daily Challenge

• Reflect on positions that you have grown in over the last twenty years.  Consider that God has had a part in this growth.

Mutual Encouragement, not mutual Belief - June 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Num. 9:15-23, 10:29-36; Rom. 1:1-15; Matt. 17:14-21

When I went to seminary a decade ago, I was convinced that I would finally figure out my faith, or at least have a few answers that I was sure of.  After studying with professors and fellow students, I was to come away ready to preach and proclaim the Gospel with confidence and boldness.  The words above our iconic seminary window read, “Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel.” The fall of my junior year (the name for the first year in seminary) our chapel burned to the ground including this window, and oddly our seminary expectations were left smoldering in the remains.  Two and half years later when I was commissioned by the seminary to go forth and do just that, I had more questions than answers wondering what it would truly mean to “Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel.”

One of the things I have noticed that we Episcopalians like to do is answer a question asked with certainty, and with a little bit of suspicion, or at least to try to unravel the other’s certainty.  “Did Jesus really ascend up to heaven? Well, maybe?”  “Did the transfiguration take place? I don’t know.  What do you think?” “Was Mary really a virgin? Do you think she needed to be?”  What is clear is the questions seem to be more important than the answers. 

But here is where lies the problem.  I find myself trying to correct people’s theology that I disagree with.  While I am quite confident the earth is much more likely to be 4.5 billion years old than 6,000 years old, if I don’t like a person’s response, I find a way to unravel what they believe. In Paul’s letter to the Romans, he is writing to the Christians living in Rome as he is staying across the sea in the town of Corinth.  And he offers this in the middle of the first chapter, “For I am longing to see you so that I may share with you some spiritual gift to strengthen you – or rather so that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine (1.11-12).”   I am struck because obviously Paul believes he understands something that the Roman Christians don’t (i.e. he wants to strengthen them).  But even as he writes to correct their faith, he recognizes that they will be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith.  These people who don’t have it all figured out and even need some correcting have something to offer Paul.  Paul even recognizes this need.   

I deeply believe that more than anything right now in our time and age, we need to learn to see people whom we disagree with or need to learn from and to listen to them, especially people’s voices that haven’t been lifted up, even if we disagree.  In listening and learning we can find unity in our shared humanity.  Maybe Paul’s vision of mutual encouragement can far extend beyond just our Christian faith and be a shared vision for how we can not only learn from each other but find mutual encouragement as well.  In the end, we end up finding mutual encouragement, not mutual belief, and maybe this is much better. 

-- John+

 Questions for Self-Reflection

• What are the beliefs of your faith that you are confident or certain about?

• What are the beliefs of your faith that you are less certain about? 

Daily Challenge

• In a conversation with a friend, colleague, or family member today, you are likely to hear something you disagree with.  Consider entering a conversation with purpose of sharing your disagreement and then seeking mutual encouragement for each other.  How is this different when the goal becomes mutual understanding?

Pull up a chair in the household of the Lord - June 13

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 75, 76; PM Psalm 23, 27; Num. 3:1-13; Gal. 6:11-18; Matt. 17:1-13

Two of the psalms appointed for today are the 23rd Psalm and the 27th Psalm. I thumbed through the Book of Common Prayer to find the King James Version of Psalm 23, as that is the translation I learned as a kid. I recalled that is often used in burial services (page 476). I found on the opposite page within the burial rite, Psalm 27 is included, too (BCP page 477). I was moved by how those two psalms were companion pieces in the messages they conveyed about God's love and protection. (Let it also be noted that the version of Psalm 27 in the burial rite within the Book of Common Prayer does not include every verse; some are omitted, though there is no note of this pastoral editing.)

I poured over those familiar words, and I noticed a phrase held in common: “I will dwell in the household of the Lord for ever/all the days of my life.” I generally have glossed over those words, reflecting more often on God’s love as the good shepherd leading me to verdant fields with a babbling brook, or walking through a time like “the valley of the shadow of death.”

I began wondering what dwelling in the household of God really looks like for you and me – living and moving within that space right now, rather than a time far off. Is there a place that comes to mind? What else do you see? These psalms offer a few images as steppingstones to the imagination – refreshment and strength, guidance and protection, fearlessness and comfort, thanksgiving and generosity. How might your day today be fixed within life in the household of the Lord?

However, framed in the setting of laying a loved one to rest in the loving arms of God, suddenly the phrase, “I will dwell in the household of the Lord for ever” takes on a different texture. Those ancient songs become words of assurance and hope that our friend or family member is cared for, whole, and restored within God’s realm…and that perhaps one day, we will be swept up into that divine comfort when we die.

How do you need to hear these words today? What resonates with you? Isn’t that the great gift we find in praying through Holy Scripture – we see new ways of God beckoning us to lean closer into the Word.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

• Who do you think about when you read Psalm 23?

• In what ways do you feel comforted by these psalms? Discomforted?

Daily Challenge

Read either Psalm 23 or 27 again. What images jump out at you? As you go through your day, look for reminders of those images. Receive them as nudges from God – affirmation of God’s great care and love for you.

Attention, girls and boys, disciples of all ages!! - June 12

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 69:1-23 (24-30) 31-38; PM Psalm 73; Eccles. 11:9-12:14; Gal. 5:25-6:10; Matt. 16:21-28 

In January 2020, there was news of hard times ahead. People in China were affected by this virus that was kind of like a new strain of the flu. Some scientists and physicians were interviewed, calling for preparation around the world. February came and went, and projections grew worse for COVID-19. And yet, I recall feeling some level of denial that this purported “bad version of the cold” wouldn’t affect our life here in Alabama. I thought surely this coronavirus would attenuate or be quickly resolved. Though public health projections and warnings were issued, I didn’t think such vast shifts would happen. Now, as I sit in our home office writing these words, ripples of this virus have shaken our household, church life, kids’ schooling, friends and family, finances, and our mental and emotional wellbeing, to name a few. What did it take to get me to pay attention?

In this chapter of Matthew, Jesus is actively preparing his disciples for his ultimate departure. He tells them of what will come as he must return to Jerusalem: arrest, judgment, execution, and on the third day be raised. In doing this, Jesus is also teaching his friends about the fulfillment of God’s promise and prophecy from Hebrew scripture. I imagine Jesus’ forecast is met with blank stares, or the gracious “smile-and-nod”.

Simon Peter pulls Jesus aside for a heart-to-heart conversation. Maybe it went something like this:

‘Jesus – buddy…surely this “suffering and death thing” cannot be so. This isn’t part of God’s plan! You do amazing things – you feed and heal all kinds of people; you verbally spar with the scribes in the Temple, which is a blast to watch; and you teach us so much. We must have even more good work ahead…’

Before Peter can create another explanation or narrative of what is to come for this ministry parade they are heralding around the ancient Near East, Jesus erupts at him: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Imagine the awkward silence that must have hung in that room. Peter – who was to become the “Rock” of the Church – surely was wounded and stunned by Jesus’ dressing down. And yet, what did it take to get the disciples to pay attention? What did it take for them to believe the hard truths upon the horizon?

Friends, our call as Christians is to follow Jesus, setting aside our instinct toward human things and asking God to inspire us toward the divine ones. It is a radical ask: humble ourselves in the sight of the Lord, pray for God to overrule our hearts, and guide our feet into the way of God’s peace – for what end? So that, at all costs, we serve those in deep need, listening to those who are shut out, and sharing the Good News of God’s love and redemption for the whole world. These are countercultural requests. If we truly do these things, our world will be turned upside down.

Much of life feels upended right now, anyway…so, what will it take for you to take up your cross and follow Jesus?

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

• How has your prayer life changed since COVID-19 has affected our world?

• What does it take for you to believe hard truths upon your own horizon?

Daily Challenge

• Talk to someone you love and trust. Ask them for honest feedback about an issue or concern. Listen and pray for guidance on a next step.

God is your strong rock – June 11

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm [70], 71; PM Psalm 74; Eccles. 11:1-8; Gal. 5:16-24; Matt. 16:13-20 

When I was a kid, my mom made us play outside most of the summer days. We jumped on the trampoline, ran around with our dog, rode bikes as we got older, and found ways to amuse ourselves in general. The lower part of our backyard had rocks spread around. It was a bit wild, and sometimes overgrown. My sisters and I would prowl about, watching for birds, pretending to ride horses, or acting out some other dramatic roleplay. There was a privet hedgerow in the lower quarter of the yard, and at the edge of that privet was a large rock. I remember perching upon that white quartz-like rock.

When I was angered by someone or some punishment inside the house, I would sometimes flee to the backyard and sit on the rock. I was hidden – as far as I could tell – from the prospect of the kitchen window. I would cry, sing, sulk…imagining with great clarity and certainty that I would go far away and never come back again, or lamenting the great injustice that I felt had been levied against me inside. After a while, I would calm down, the sun would begin setting, or my mom would call out the back door for me. If I was being really stubborn or dramatic, one of my sisters would come out and implore me to come inside. When I was recharged and ready, I reconnected with my family. That rock was a source of respite, a strong rock to keep me safe. Years later, my sister Wayles referred to it as her rock of safety and retreat. I guess it was a source of comfort for both of us! When we sold our mom’s house, we said goodbye to that rock, and carried many memories with us.

In Psalm 71, the psalmist recounts that God has continued to provide deliverance and protection through his years. Amid all of the perils and changes during life, the Lord has been faithful and immovable, like a sturdy rock or mountain: “Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe; you are my crag and my stronghold.” We hear similar phrasing in Psalm 31: “Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe, for you are my crag and my stronghold; for the sake of your Name, lead me and guide me.” As we pray these psalms over and over through the Daily Office, and through our lives, these prayers and songs hold up for us a framework of what faithful living as God’s people can look like. It isn’t always perfect. We have internal failures and weaknesses. We wrestle with insecurities, addictions, and sin. We have enemies who speak out against us. We have disputes with those we love. And yet, we see the beauty and righteousness of God. The Lord has brought us up from the deep places into which we’ve descended. In patience, we perch upon the rock of God’s safety and dependability. God brings us strength and comfort, so that when we’re ready, we reconnect with the joy and hope in God’s promise.

Wherever you find yourself today, cling to God as your strong rock, the castle to keep you safe.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

• Who is a “rock” in your life?

• In what ways do you lean upon God?

Daily Challenge

If you are able, go on a walk today. Look for a rock that can bear the weight of cares and concerns in your heart.

“Do not submit again to a yoke of slavery” – June 10

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Eccles. 9:11-18; Gal. 5:1-15; Matt. 16:1-12

“For freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery…for you were called to freedom, brothers and sisters”. (Galatians 5:1, 13)

I wonder if preachers during the time of slavery in the U.S. explored this text from Galatians for a Sunday sermon. If so, how were they heard? Did those who owned slaves think about their human livestock in this context, or did they reflect on other aspects of their lives that held them captive – like fear of disease, crop failure, etc.? Did sharecroppers, living day to day for meager wages, hear these words of promise, that they would be released from their staggering yoke of work and instead take Jesus’ yoke, in which the burden was light (Matthew 11:30)? And what about slaves? Slave-owners were known to impart their religious beliefs and practices to their slaves, and sometimes slaves would attend worship. Would these words be used as a cry for rebellion and resistance among enslaved peoples?

Slavery is messy, complicated, and painful. It has been for more than 500 years. As I reflect on its historical context, ours is not the only country that leveraged the lives of people with darker skin or different ethnic background for their own financial gain. Human bondage as big business was begun by the Portuguese in the 15th century; explorers kidnapped people from the western coast of Africa and took them back to Europe as slaves. Other European nations followed suit soon after. As trade expanded, King Charles I of Spain authorized taking African captives directly across the Atlantic to new territories, as the western lands were being discovered and settled by European explorers.

In 1619, when kidnapped Africans were first brought to the English colonies (that would become the United States), they were to be indentured servants, working off their debts to regain their freedom at some point. A disparity between indentured servants emerged, as those with lighter skin were more likely to be released from bondage, while those with brown or black skin were held, and their servitude transitioned into a perpetual state of slavery. There were physicians and scientists who perpetuated the separation based on science, giving accounts of their research that defined people with dark skin as a different and lesser race – in intellect, morality, and motivation – than those with white skin. While these assertions of scientific racism have been debunked repeatedly, the roots of a systemic power differential grounded in white supremacy spread widely, affecting our societal, ethical, and spiritual contexts.

Brothers and sisters, we are called to freedom by Christ. I believe a warning is included that we are not to use our freedom as an opening for self-indulgence that would embed us more deeply in systems of privilege and hierarchy. In Christ there is no first or last, East or West, Jew or Gentile, slave or free. As Christians we have an imperative – the one rule that undergirds all the others – to love our neighbors as ourselves. Rolled up in this, we get to acknowledge and reach out to our neighbors who are not experiencing freedom in the same way. We have this invitation to bring true, selfless love (agape) into the public space – loving all people, and shining light on policies that reinforce self-serving paradigms where only some people are free.

We shall love our neighbors as ourselves one day…what will you choose to do to start getting there today?

-- Katherine+

Want to know more? Bishop Jennifer Baskerville-Burrows of the Episcopal Diocese of Indianapolis made comments on June 9, 2020, about systemic racism and her personal experience. Click here to read her story.

Questions for Reflection

• In what ways do you feel free today, and how do you feel enslaved?

• Think of someone you know who has a different experience with freedom than you.

Daily Challenge

Read Bp. Baskerville-Burrows’ message in the link above. Ponder where you see white supremacy in the institution of the Episcopal Church.

How do you approach Jesus? - June 9

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 61, 62; PM Psalm 68:1-20, 24-36; Eccles. 8:14-9:10; Gal. 4:21-31; Matt. 15:29-39 

As I sit reflecting on today’s readings, our dog Allie quietly reaches up her head and rests her chin on my foot. I feel a soft warm touch and look to see her gentle dark eyes. I did not even know she was beneath me…how did she get there? And what does she seek? Allie is a 60-pound, black and white Staffordshire terrier mix, with short hair and deep love for our family. Like many dogs, she always welcomes a scratch behind the ears or a pat on the head, but what’s really going on here is that I am sitting in her chair. The moment I stand, she claims the seat again and falls right to sleep. That interaction of how she announced herself hangs with me. What are the approaches we use to interact with others?

In the 15th chapter of Matthew’s gospel, many people approach Jesus. How do they present themselves? Yesterday we read of the Canaanite woman yelling for the Messiah to have mercy on her and help her afflicted daughter. Then, she kneels before him. Today we hear of great crowds flocking to Jesus, who is sitting on a mountain. Others bring someone else in need to his feet for healing. Some sit, listen, observe, and learn. Maybe others hang back, watching Jesus from the fringes. We also read of the scribes and Pharisees testing Jesus, examining his responses for errors and inconsistencies.

Regardless of their posture, Jesus has compassion on those who gather. He cares for their physical well-being. He wants them well and strong. He wants them to understand God’s truth as he heals their eyes, voices, bodies, and souls. He welcomes them, creating a space of hope and openness. You see, Jesus is a visionary guy, and he’s also a heart-focused guy.

I believe Jesus has compassion for where you are right now. You may be yelling, weeping, hungering, questioning, or just numb. Regardless, you are part of his vision and heart. He wants you fed, spiritually and physically. He wants you healed. He wants you to follow him. How will you approach Jesus? And who will you bring along?

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

• How do you approach others? Quietly? Verbally?

• What healing do you pray for today?

Daily Challenge

Call someone who you know is ailing. Listen to them. Ask them how you can pray for them. Then, approach Jesus in prayer.

When you go to the house of mourning, carry a chess pie - June 8

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Eccles. 7:1-14; Gal. 4:12-20; Matt. 15:21-28

A childhood friend from Montgomery had a family tradition: when going to a funeral, always bring homemade chess pie to the family grieving the death of their loved one. This was a way to show support and love. As I think about that act of care (and the delicious pie that went along with it), I am struck by what solidarity comes from mourning.

My friend Erin lost her mom to cancer five years ago. She helped care for her mom until the end. Last week, Erin started a meal sign-up for Gayle, whose mother just died from a long battle with cancer. Friends take turns, delivering food and spending time on the back porch in conversation. Bound together across years of shared dinners in a supper club, we are not feasting at a delicious common meal in a large group right now. Rather, we are sitting with Gayle in grief, sharing stories, tears, and space. Though grief can make us feel so alone, what solidarity comes from mourning.

And so, these words from Ecclesiastes today echo in my ears:

“It is better to go to the house of mourning
   than to go to the house of feasting;
for this is the end of everyone,
   and the living will lay it to heart.”

While some joyous events like graduations and weddings have been curtailed or postponed, grieving does not stop. The writer of Ecclesiastes instills aspects of wisdom today, drawing us into reflection about our lives and our mortality. Perhaps during this time of conflict, illness, and isolation, it is a little easier for some to slip into a mode of pondering some of the realities around us. Maybe others of us would rather ignore harsh truths, as it can be overwhelming.

By wandering around in the “house of mourning” and “laying to heart” the truth that death will inevitably come to each of us, how can God direct us toward deeper, centered living today? How can reflecting on the losses we have experienced shape the choices we make to love those who are still with us? How will we lend our hands, voices, and prayers to those who need our support?

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

• For whom or what do you mourn?

• What disturbs you about grief or mourning?

Daily Challenge

Think about the losses you’ve experienced, and those who have shared their grief with you. Then, pray to God. As you exhale, offer up the pains and joys that you feel or remember. As you inhale, breathe in God’s hope of resurrection in Jesus. Close with the Lord’s Prayer.

Unity in Christ

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23);Eccles. 5:8-20; Gal. 3:23-4:11; Matt. 15:1-20

The news and social media and conversations that are taking place all around us can become a heavy weight of uncertainty to carry because we’re in the middle of multiple crises that are emotionally charged and complex. I’m finding it hard to sort everything out and figure out which information is most truthful. There are no easy answers and there is logic and wisdom from every angle.

I’m noticing varying strong voices and views regarding these crises are creating divisions. I’m worried about our communities, our nation and world. I’m wondering how we’re going to get through these challenging times without creating more death, destruction, and divisiveness.

I’m also noticing a strong desire that we become more united. I think we all want the same things…we all want for ourselves, our families and our world for people to be healthy, connected, and thriving in safety and basic needs. I’m wondering that, if we all want the same things, how can we get there? But this is a world we haven’t yet seen.

As I’m noticing patterns and wondering solutions about current events, listening to Paul’s familiar words about Jesus are comforting and reassuring when he says, “there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” Paul sets up a glorious and beautiful picture of peace and unity among all people as one human family in Christ. Christ came to liberate the world of sin and reconcile us, which means we are ALL restored as members of God’s family in unity. Paul proclaimed this good news at a time when there were multiple crises, speaking to hierarchy and religious tensions. The good news he proclaims is God’s promise for all people to be one. What was true then is also true now. As baptized Christians, we are united in Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit. This unity in Christ should lead to a flourishing for ALL people. Let us strive to create a world we haven’t yet seen by becoming united in Christ.

— Susan Oakes

Susan Oakes is a rising senior at the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin, Texas. This summer, she is serving as a seminarian intern at Saint Stephen's, her sponsoring parish for ordination.  

 Questions for Self-Reflection

• What are you noticing and wondering about our world lately?

• What do you dream about for our world?

Daily Challenge

• This week, try listening to understand without responding, relating, correcting, fixing, or engaging other than trying to understand. You might or might not agree and that’s ok because nothing has to be resolved. The point is to try to understand those around you. You might also share a thought, feeling or dream with someone else, asking them to simply listen to understand.