Let Justice Roll Down Like Waters - August 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102 PM Psalm 85:7-13  Amos 5:18-24 Acts 7:17-29 Luke 1:46-55

Today’s Reflection

Quite likely, some of you have visited the Civil Rights Memorial at the Southern Poverty Law Center in Montgomery, since it’s less than two hours down I-65 from here. When I taught my Visual Communication course, my students and I would always discuss the symbolism of this memorial’s design.

Designed by architect Maya Lin, the memorial features two components, both formed of black granite. The first part is a curved wall that acts as the backdrop for the second component, which is a round, table-like structure. Both the wall and the table have water flowing over them.

Etched onto the wall are the words, “…until justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream,” with an attribution of the words to Martin Luther King, Jr., because this is a phrase King used both at the beginning of the Montgomery bus boycott as well as in his “I Have a Dream” speech at the March on Washington in 1963: “There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, ‘When will you be satisfied?’ … No, no, we are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”

But King did not come up with this phrase—he was quoting scripture. The words on the wall of the Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery are a quote from the Book of Amos. Maya Lin recalls how these words inspired her design: “The minute I hit that quote I knew that the whole piece had to be about water. I realized that I wanted to create a timeline: a chronological listing of the Movement’s major events and its individual deaths, which together would show how people’s lives influenced history and how their deaths made things better.”

The second component of the Civil Rights Memorial, out in front of the wall, is a round, table-like structure, onto which are etched the names of 40 people who were killed during the years 1954-1968, killed either because of their race or because of their civil rights activism.

I’ve always thought was the most powerful design element of this memorial is that visitors can place their fingers or even their whole hands into the water flowing over the surface of the timeline—which both changes the course of how the water flows down, and allows them to make their own mark in the timeline of history, as they pay respect to these civil rights martyrs.

One of the names included in this timeline is Jonathan Myrick Daniels, with the date August 20, 1965, the day he was killed in Hayneville. Daniels was a seminary student at the Episcopal Divinity School in Massachusetts. That March, he had come to Alabama with a classmate to participate in the march from Selma to Montgomery. But they didn’t think it was right to come protest for just a few days; they wanted to make a longer-term commitment to the cause. So, Daniels asked for permission from EDS to stay on in Alabama for the rest of the spring to keep working for civil rights, returned to the seminary for exams, and then was back in Alabama in July and August.

On August 14, he was arrested in Fort Deposit for protesting at three businesses there. Released from the county jail in Hayneville on August 20, he tried to enter a local shop with a group of other activists, black and white, in search of a cold drink. There they encountered an armed, off-duty deputy, who pointed his gun toward 17-year-old Ruby Sales. Daniels pushed Sales out of the way, taking the fatal shot intended for her.

Each year, we set aside August 14—the day of Daniels’ arrest—to remember this seminary student, civil rights activist, and martyr. The readings for our Morning Prayer and Noonday Prayer today connect with Daniels, allowing us to reflect on the ways in which he gave his gifts and his life to “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

• What can we learn from the decisions Jonathan Daniels made in the last several months of his life?

• What are some tangible ways we can help “justice to roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” in our world today?

Daily Challenge

The Diocese of Alabama sponsors an annual Jonathan Daniels Pilgrimage. Because of the pandemic, this year’s pilgrimage will be held online this Saturday, August 15, from 11:00-1:00. If you would like to remember Daniels’ and others’ sacrifices for civil rights, you can find links to connect here: https://www.dioala.org/digital_faith/events/3184074

Following in Stephen’s Footsteps - August 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 105:1-22; PM Psalm 105:23-45 Judges 14:1-19; Acts 6:15-7:16; John 4:27-42

In this, my second week working here at St. Stephen’s, I find myself especially interested in our readings from Acts 6 and 7, in which we begin to hear the story of our church’s namesake, Stephen. One of the first deacons, and ultimately a martyr, we have much to learn from his life as a servant leader.

In Acts 6 (which we read yesterday), we learn that there were some unmet needs in the community. As the early church was growing, the apostles realized that they could not do it all. Important responsibilities, like distributing food to the widows, were falling through the cracks. And so, the apostles ordained seven people, “of good standing, full of faith and the Holy Spirit,” whose chief responsibility would be to ensure that the needs of the community, especially the needs of the most vulnerable, were being met. Stephen, the oldest of the seven, was considered their leader, the archdeacon.

Not only was Stephen a servant leader, but Luke describes how Stephen was “full of grace and power” and “did great wonders and signs among the people.” Stephen, because he was called to care for the tangible, day-to-day needs of the community, became the focus of criticism from those whose faith was more centered on Temple worship. They began to start arguments with Stephen, “But they could not withstand the wisdom and the Spirit with which he spoke.” This, not surprisingly, ruffled some feathers, and Stephen was “seized… and brought before the council.”

Defending himself before the council is where we find Stephen as we begin today’s passage, Acts 6:15-7:16. Stephen is facing charges before the high council. At issue was whether Stephen is trying to turn people against the traditions of Judaism. We hear Stephen making the case for how his faith is consistent with the faith of Abraham and Joseph. And as he appeared in this highly contentious situation, defending his work as a servant leader in the early church, the light of Christ shone in and through him—even those sitting in judgment of him could see this: “And all who sat in the council looked intently at him, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel.”

As I begin to get to know you, the people who comprise St. Stephen’s church here in Birmingham, I am seeing how much this church is carrying on Stephen’s legacy by serving the needs of the most vulnerable in our community. One of my responsibilities is to be a liaison to the Outreach Committee, keeping the important work of community outreach at the forefront of our parish’s attention and priorities. Sitting in on the Outreach Committee’s meeting this week, I had the chance to begin to learn more about the many tangible ways that St. Stephen’s members are the hands and feet of Christ in our community, such as through Avondale Outreach, Family Promise, Laundry Love, Grace Episcopal Food Pantry, and a new pop-up market in North Birmingham.

In these times of social distancing—working and worshipping from home—we may find ourselves focused mainly on just getting through another day, which can make it harder to keep the needs of others on our radar. However, as we hear Jesus telling his disciples in today’s Gospel passage: “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. Do you not say, ‘Four months more, then comes the harvest’? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting” (John 4:34-35).

While we should be sure to take care of ourselves during this time of pandemic, Jesus is also calling us to continue doing God’s work—not putting it off for another day, but seeing the work that remains to be done in our community today. When we look not just to our own needs, but also to the needs of others, we continue the legacy not only of our church’s namesake, Stephen, but also of 47 years of our church looking out for our neighbors throughout Birmingham.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Why is it important for churches and church people to be involved in community outreach?

What gifts or resources do you or your family have that might be a blessing to someone else in our Birmingham community?

Daily Challenge

Make a point to talk with someone you know who is involved in an outreach ministry. What specific tasks does it entail? How does being involved allow them to use their gifts? Consider committing to get involved just one time to find out if this ministry could be one you continue to be involved with.

Moments of Recognition - August 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144 Judges 13:15-24; Acts 6:1-15; John 4:1-26 

The story of Jesus and the woman at the well is a rich text through which can we learn more about Jesus and the woman—and about ourselves.

First, let’s look more closely at Jesus and what we learn about him and from him in this story. When Jesus meets a Samaritan woman at the well, asking her to give him a drink, he was defying social conventions in that, first, a man from outside her family group was talking with her, a woman, in a time and place in which that was just not done. And, just as significant, Jesus as a Jew is defying social convention by interacting with a Samaritan.

As we hear of this woman’s interaction with Jesus, we also learn that she experiences Jesus as all-knowing, or as she declares him, a prophet. However, the important take-away we learn about Jesus is not so much that he knows things. Rather, what is most important to notice here is what Jesus does with that knowledge. Jesus reveals that he already knows all about it—and that he is asking her for water and having a conversation with her despite all that… or, I would argue, maybe even because of all that.

Next, let’s move into looking at what we learn about this woman through this story. As mentioned, we learn that this woman has some personal baggage. However, we also learn that this woman has religious knowledge; she is keenly aware of the differences between the Jews and the Samaritans. And then, in response to Jesus’ discussion of “true worshipers,” the woman shares another thing that she knows: “I know that Messiah is coming… When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” It is then that Jesus reveals that he, “the one who is speaking to you,” is the Messiah.

And so, what did the woman do next? “She left her water jar and went back to the city.” And when she returned to the city, she shared the Good News of Jesus: “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” While she still has some doubts, her sense of wonderment that Jesus “told her everything she has ever done” triumphs over those questions. She shares her testimony, even though by sharing it she is reminding her community of things she would rather not remind them of. What we learn about this woman is that she chose to share the news of the Messiah, the Christ, despite these very real, very personal repercussions.

Finally, what do we learn about ourselves when we hear the story of Jesus and the woman at the well? First, we learn that Jesus already knows all about us—and he still wants to talk with us and be with us anyway. There’s nothing we have thought about, nothing that we have done (or left undone), that God doesn’t already know. There’s no need for artifice. God already knows all about it. And yet Jesus still loves me—and he still loves you. Nothing we have done, or ever will do, can ever scare Jesus away from us.

Second, we learn about moments of recognition—that moment when Jesus showed he knew who the Samaritan woman really is, and that moment when the woman realized who he is (a prophet, and not only that, but the Messiah). Just as Jesus and the woman at the well had that moment of mutual recognition, so, too, do we have our own moments when we recognize who Jesus is to us, and when we realize (again and again) how fully we are known and loved by God. These moments of recognition will hopefully inspire us to go out, leave behind our own jars of water, and go back to the people in our lives to share our own testimonies of meeting Jesus at the well—wherever that place of encounter with God may be for each of us.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What aspects of yourself and your life do you wish that others could look beyond in order to recognize you for who you really are?

What do you learn from Jesus in this story that inspires you to get to know people who are different than you on some level?

Daily Challenge

Think of someone who you have made some assumptions about but who, on second thought, maybe you do not really know all that well. Commit to reaching out to that person this week to have a conversation in which you learn something new about them—and in which you share something of yourself with them.

The Courage to Take a Stand - August 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 97, 99, [100]; PM Psalm 94, [95] Judges 13:1-15; Acts 5:27-42; John 3:22-36

Four years ago, in Fall 2016, a crisis was intensifying at the Standing Rock Indian Reservation in North Dakota, 1,300 miles from where I was beginning seminary in Austin, Texas. The dispute involved a disagreement between the Lakota Sioux and an energy company who wanted to build a crude oil pipeline across Sioux land. The people of Standing Rock were opposed to the pipeline as they believed it to be a threat to their water supply and to the sacredness of the land.

People around the country sympathetic with their cause began lifting their voices in support of the Lakota Sioux Water Protectors. By early November, Presiding Bishop Michael Curry called Episcopalians to pray for the Water Protectors. A small group of my classmates at the Seminary of the Southwest were inspired to sacrifice their time, comfort, and even safety by traveling to North Dakota over Thanksgiving break to “Stand with Standing Rock.”

Besides undergoing the discomforts of the long journey, the intense cold of North Dakota in November, and sleeping on the floor of a poorly insulated church building, my friends also put their lives at risk to stand up for what they believed was right. While I was enjoying Thanksgiving with family and friends in sunny Florida, I watched (via videos, photos, and narratives shared through social media) as Radha, Lauren, Joe, Jonathan, Christine, Matt, and Michelangelo volunteered side by side with Lakota Sioux and local clergy including the Rev. John Floberg, an Episcopal priest of three churches at Standing Rock. The situation became intense at times, as water hoses, flares, and other means were used by local authorities seeking to end the protests.

As I reflect on today’s passage from Acts 5, I am reminded of these classmates and how they set aside their own comfort and safety to stand up for what they believe. When Peter and the apostles were brought before the council, they had to answer for continuing to preach about Jesus, though they had been given strict orders to cease: “But Peter and the apostles answered, ‘We must obey God rather than any human authority. The God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. … And we are witnesses to these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him’” (Acts 5:28-30, 32). After the apostles made the above statement, the majority of those seated on the council “were enraged and wanted to kill them” (5:33). Enter Gamaliel.

Gamaliel is only mentioned by name twice in all of Scripture. However, while he may not be well known to us today, he was, according to one commentary, “the most prominent rabbi of his day and [later] the teacher of Paul. He belonged to the Pharisaic minority on the Sanhedrin but had considerable influence” (ESV Study Bible).

Gamaliel could have just sat quietly and gone along with the will of the majority—and it would have been easier for him to do so. Instead, Gamaliel, “a teacher of the law, respected by all the people, stood up and ordered the men to be put outside for a short time. Then he said to them, ‘Fellow Israelites, consider carefully what you propose to do to these men. … because if this plan or undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!’” (Acts 5:33-39).

Because Gamaliel was willing to speak out for what he thought was right, and to stand up for people with less power and influence, he changed the course of not only the apostles’ lives, but in turn of everyone whose lives over the centuries were impacted by those apostles and their continued ministry of spreading the good news of Christ.

Questions for Self-Reflection

• Think of a time when you found yourself disagreeing with the majority. How did it feel? How did you handle the situation?

• Has anyone ever stood up for you in a situation in which you were the one with less power? How has your life been changed as a result?

Daily Challenge

• Ask God to place on your heart an individual or a cause who needs an advocate. Prayerfully open your mind to finding some tangible way that you could stand up for this person or cause.

Drawn to the Light - August 10

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52 Judges 12:1-7; Acts 5:12-26; John 3:1-21

“But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen

that their deeds have been done in God.” –John 3:21

Light attracts us.

Think of the proverbial moth being drawn to a flame. Whenever we leave our back porch light on, inevitably moths and other flying bugs come close, frenetically buzzing around its warm glow.

In our backyard here in Birmingham, we have fireflies. Whenever I start to see them flickering at dusk, my instinct is to keep watching for them in the darkness. I want to see where they will light up next. While growing up, when I would go to my grandparents’ farm in Kentucky for a week or two each summer, I was fascinated by the lightning bugs, since we didn’t have them back home in Florida. My cousin Leslie and I would go out into the yard with empty jam jars to put fireflies in when we caught them, so we could see them light up the jar like a lantern—and then we’d release them back into the darkness when it was time for us to go inside for the night.

We also have a creek the runs behind our backyard here. I have found a special spot with a rock that I can sit on underneath the trees. I listen to the peaceful sounds of the water running over the rocks and watch the current as it carries leaves and sweet pea blooms down the creek. I’ve noticed that around midday, shafts of sunlight shine down into one corner of the creek. And when that light shines down, it illuminates every detail of that part of the creek. Suddenly, the shape of each individual rock is made distinct and energetic little minnows are revealed that I can see only when that shaft of light breaking through the trees makes everything beneath the water’s surface crystal clear.

Nicodemus, a Pharisee, came to visit Jesus under the cover of darkness. Perhaps he did this because he was afraid of what others would think of him conversing with Jesus. Whatever Nicodemus’ reasons, what is clear is that he was drawn to Jesus. He wanted to know more of him. Though he had some questions for Jesus, Nicodemus said that he knew that Jesus was “a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God” (John 3:2). Nicodemus recognized that Jesus’ teaching and healing were bringing light into the darkness of the world—and he, like so many, was drawn to the light of Christ.

Jesus answers Nicodemus’ questions very straight-forwardly, and then poses some questions to him in return. Ultimately, Jesus offers Nicodemus—and all of us—the reassurance that “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” When we allow the light of Christ to shine into our lives, that light is then reflected back out into the world around us: “But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God” (John 3:21).

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

• In what other Scripture passages have you noticed this imagery of God’s light shining in the darkness?

• How does this idea of the light of Christ show up in our Episcopal liturgy?

• What is one specific memory you have of experiencing the light of Christ shining into your life through the life of another?

Daily Challenge

• Think of at least one tangible way in which you can pass the light of Christ on to another person in your life today—and then try to carry that out.

Love in Action - August 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 87, 90; PM Psalm 136; Judges 9:22-25,50-57; Acts 4:32-5:11; John 2:13-25

“He was speaking of the temple of his body.” — John 2:21

Since the recent death of the civil rights icon and congressman, John Lewis, I’ve been reviewing his life and career, and the thing that continues to be highlighted is the “Good Trouble” he promoted and invested himself. He was raised in a very poor family and taught as a young child in a black body to stay out of the way, to stay out of trouble. But at the age of 15 years old, Lewis heard about Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr., and he became inspired to do the opposite – to use his education, skills, and resources to get IN the way and to make GOOD trouble. Lewis describes “Good Trouble” as love in action. Guided by the power of love, he devoted his life to making our country a better place for all people, a place where no one will be left out or left behind. I can’t help but connect Lewis’ concept of love in action with Jesus’ life and ministry, and I wonder if this tricky passage from today’s gospel reading could have been an influence for Lewis.

The temple is the most central and sacred place where the people gather in Jerusalem, especially at the time of the annual Passover festivals, but the Roman Empire is the ruling force of the day. I often say that Jesus turns things upside down as he works in contrast to the empire, but in terms of the Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus is turning everything right side up. Jesus flips the tables because he knows what’s in their hearts and what’s happening in the marketplace at the temple is wrong. Giving them the benefit of the doubt, maybe they don’t realize what they’re doing is wrong, maybe they’re just doing the best they can, or maybe they’re afraid that by not doing it they will be making trouble. But Jesus disrupts the status quo and calls out the money changers, overturns the tables, and scatters the animals because he’s trying to lead them in the way of Love - not fear, power, or complicity, but radical love.

While everyone is focused on the physical structure in Jerusalem, Jesus speaks of his own body as the temple that will be raised again in three days after its destruction. He’s referring to his life, death, and resurrection. Having the perspective of hindsight, we can more easily understand that Jesus IS the temple in the Kingdom of God because Jesus embodies love in action to bring about the kingdom with his entire ministry. While this episode illustrates an unusual show of emotion and behavior by Jesus, it is, nonetheless, love in action. Jesus invites us to be bold and courageous about (metaphorically) turning tables – that is, by standing up and speaking out against anything that works against the Kingdom of Heaven.

May we see and hear the world through God’s eyes and ears, may our hearts and minds be opened to truth and justice that needs our attention, and may the labor of our hands and feet by guided by love in action.

— 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 Reflection:

Is there a modern-day Christ-like example in your life who embodies love in action? How do you show love in action and make the world a better place to live for everyone, including the “other”.

Challenge:

Ponder your own life and identify the Christ-like quality that you embody (or would like to embody) and will be remembered for.

Grace upon Grace - August 7

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Judges 9:1-16,19-21; Acts 4:13-31; John 2:2-12

“Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee

And revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” -- John 2:11

I’ve made a new friend in San Antonio from my field education parish. This friend was the first person I spent time in deep conversation with during the small group portion of adult formation time. We make a point to say hello every week at church and we’ve even gone out for brunch a few times after church. The last time I saw him was March 8, during the “before times” when we used to go to church. He called me yesterday to share some great news that he’s getting married next month.

The most beautiful thing he said was, “neither of us ever thought we’d get married, and now we’re so happy that we’ll be able to get married in the church.” He said this because they’re gay and what they thought was impossible is now provided. They don’t care about the limited guests, physical distancing, or other restrictions caused by the pandemic because they’re focused on the joy and new life they’re receiving.

Their wedding story is quite different than the wedding scene from John’s gospel reading appointed for today. There is a huge gathering and celebration with a feast. In this context, your honor is at stake by running out of wine, and you might do just as well in the desert with no water. This is an emergency, and Jesus provides by turning the water to wine. It’s a good thing that Jesus provides wine, a physical need in the moment.

Jesus also provides a spiritual need which points to the wine as the sacrament received at Eucharist. It also has even richer depth. This is how the two wedding stories are similar. It reveals God’s glory in Christ as a gracious host, providing spiritual needs of joy, life, and abundance. Out of nothing, Jesus provides superabundantly, grace upon grace. At the Eucharist, I see a story behind every pair of hands receiving communion. Our empty hands reaching for Jesus represent the needs we have that only Christ can provide.

I have another friend who desperately wants to be a mother but has not been able to have children. Another friend who is Black has said that she’s tired of always being perceived as the one who’s underprivileged. I’ve encountered homeless people who are trying to collect money for their daily needs. During my mother’s death and dying, she said she doesn’t want to be defined by her illness or what she can’t do. We all come to communion with empty hands in need of something, and God provides.

My gay friend is getting married in the church. My childless friend is able to “mother” people in ways that give her life meaning and purpose. My Black friend is sharing her lived experience, working for justice, and loving people. One familiar homeless person from the urban area of my field ed parish shares eye contact when receiving communion and lingers at the rail for prayers. My mother learned to adapt to each loss along the way so that she could live fully during her life that remained. Out of our need, God provides superabundantly the joy, life, and grace upon grace, as a generous banquet host.

— 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 Reflection:

What needs are you feeling lately? What needs do you perceive of those you encounter?

Challenge:

Look for grace upon grace in your own life and those around you, and try to notice God’s unconditional and superabundant love in places that seem empty.

Know Jesus, Know Peace - August 6

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 99; PM  Psalm 72; Exodus 34:29-35, 2 Peter 1:13-21, Luke 9:28-36

I can imagine myself being one of the disciples, trying to follow along and not doing a very good job of understanding all the signs and miracles and teachings he’s providing. Everything Jesus models contradicts cultural norms. He talks about the kingdom of God and says things like love your enemy and tells us to feed thousands of people with just two fish and a few loaves of bread. Eventually, I have to boldly ask: JESUS, who are you?! Just tell me, give me an obvious sign, be really clear about it, please!

And this is when Jesus takes me to the “mountain top” to pray and he tells me to pay attention, you’re about to see and hear, with great clarity, exactly what you need to know. Then, suddenly, Jesus appears in bedazzled glory, and I notice Moses and Elijah are both there with him. OK, I think I get it. We have Moses representing the law of the old covenant and Elijah representing the prophets who are combining forces with Jesus. And that’s as far as I get before I hear the voice of God (think Morgan Freeman’s voice making announcements in the airport) and he says, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” and suddenly Jesus is standing alone again.

Dang it! I missed it…what’s the clear sign??? I get the part about Son of God, the chosen one. I get it that he’s standing alone again, representing the new covenant beginning the new relationship with God through Christ Jesus as the Messiah. But the part about listening to him…I’ve been listening and I’m just not understanding. I want to know Jesus, but lately - especially as some big decisions are consuming my thoughts - I feel as distant as ever.

But then, as we pray, I am able to connect. Jesus is God in skin, both fully human and fully divine…so Jesus knows what it’s like to be a human. Being a human is hard right now, it was hard during the time of the Roman Empire also, and Jesus was showing us the glory of Christ – that is the POWER of Christ which is LOVE. Jesus Christ makes all things new in his coming in glory…dazzling and bright, yes, but even more wonderful, the fullness of life he brings through the power of making all things new through LOVE.

Things get confusing when we get distracted by messages from social media, mainstream media, what others think and say and do, our own judgment of others, selfish desires, power that supports injustice, there are SO MANY misleading signs all around us. We can feel anxious, afraid, and even angry in reaction to things happening around us. Your feelings are valid. As Christians, our hope is in knowing the love of Christ and to live into the fullness of life in Christ.  – not all that other junk that causes distress – but to know and live into the life of Christ is the know peace. Know Jesus, listen to him, follow him, believe that God is with you in Christ, and you will know peace.

And this pivotal mountaintop moment becomes the commemorated holy day of The Transfiguration of Our Lord that is remembered throughout history.

— 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:

If you witnessed this vision, as the disciples did, how would you interpret the experience?

Challenge:

A friend acknowledges how peaceful you are amidst the chaos of our times. You attribute your peacefulness to knowing Jesus. Describe Jesus to your friend.

Blessed - August 5

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Judges 7:19-8:12;  Acts 3:12-26;  John 1:29-42

“When God raised up his servant, he sent him first to you, to bless you by turning each of you from your wicked ways.” Acts 3:26

For a long time, I’ve understood “home” to mean the place where I feel the most alive, the most safe, the most authentic, the most acceptance, and the most love and mercy. This place has been the house I’ve lived in here in Birmingham with my husband and family for almost 20 years now, it’s the 400-square-foot apartment where I live by myself in Austin, Texas for residential seminary, and most  importantly, home dwells within me at the heart and soul of who I am as a way of being. For me, Home is not just a location, it’s a way of life, and it’s the place where I experience the strongest, truest, richest relationships and feel closest to God. Home is my sanctuary, regardless of where I am physically.

There was a period in my life when I didn’t have this feeling of Home. I was lost and lonely. I was not happy, and I knew something was missing from my life, but I couldn’t seem to find the thing that would bring me comfort and belonging. I was not connected to people or God in a way that was lifegiving or true. You might say I was lame, as a slur, but that’s accurate. I needed healing, most of all my heart needed healing.

As I found my way to St. Stephen’s, this part of my faith journey initiated that sense of God’s presence that I once had and I began to discover that God was with me the whole time; yet I had turned away from God and was feeling lonely and afraid as a result. I had been rejecting the life source of Christ because I felt like I had my life all under control on my own. In finding my way Home to God, one of the biggest steps has been self-examination and repentance. This is something we do together within Christian community whenever we pray the Confession of Sin. We’ve been praying this daily during “Coronatide” as we’ve gathered virtually for Morning Prayer.

Friends, prayer is the key to the house that brings us to our true Home with God and our neighbor. Peter healed the lame man outside the Temple by faith in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth and taught the Israelites to have faith in Jesus and to repent from human ways of wickedness to the way of Love that Jesus came to show us. This teaches us that we are dependent on GOD because our ways do not work. Repentance is one of the most important paths to God. Whenever I pray the confession, there’s a deep sense of knowing within my heart that I am loved beyond measure through God’s grace and mercy. Day by day, this prayer reconciles me and strengthens the Holy Abiding Connection with God and each other. Through returning to God, I am blessed. And so are you!

— 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:

What metaphor describes the presence of God in your life?

Have you thought about how you turn away from God?

Challenge:

Pray the Confession of Sin with intention by taking a few moments beforehand to examine the thoughts, words, and actions you’ve engaged during the past day or week. Identify what bubbles up and give that some focus. It’s difficult work, but there’s great joy and blessing on the other side of the effort!

Learning the Hard Way - August 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 78:1-39; PM Psalm 78:40-72; Judges 7:1-18; Acts 3:1-11; John 1:19-28

Raising teenagers ain’t for wimps. Especially during the age of freedom once they get their driver’s license. In many ways, this new freedom they achieve is a huge benefit. I can remember being thankful for the time I got back from all the trips back and forth between school, activities, friends’ houses, and so on. Plus, it gives them experience living into their expanded freedom and navigating the world on their own. But it can be a huge source of fear and anxiety precisely because of the tremendous amount of freedom that comes with that driver’s license. Truth be told, I think my fear for what my kids might do out there on their own probably stemmed a great deal from what I know they can get into, based on my own experience of being a teenager. I remember Steve and myself cautioning our teenagers to be careful and smart, outlining all the things they can and cannot do, the protocol for problematic situations, and consequences for certain things that are off-limits to do.

Then, as each one went off to college, they received even more instructions and cautions. I didn’t over share with my kids, but I told them enough about my experiences with the intention of teaching them and hoping they would not make the same mistakes that I made. They listened and mostly learned what to do and not do.

Most of the time, they’re going to be just fine, but sometimes they’re going to abuse their freedom and make the wrong choices. This is almost a necessary part of the deal, that they have to learn things the hard way through experience. The point is that they are growing up and becoming their own person with the freedom to make choices on their own, and it’s hard for parents to let go and trust them to use the responsibility that goes along with this new power they have received.

I think it’s safe to say that we all want the best for our own generation, as well as the generations to come. We want to learn from those who have gone before us and not make the same mistakes and errors, and we even strive to improve and pass along our experience and wisdom to those who follow behind us. Despite this lofty ideal, we are all stubborn and rebellious at times and so are the people we are raising. Some of the most impactful life lessons I’ve learned have been from errors in judgment, stubbornness, or selfishness. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten the punishments I’ve deserved. I wonder if you can relate?

Psalm 78 tells Israel’s history during the Wilderness Wandering as a way of teaching about the journey of faith. The people of Israel have to learn things the hard way because they are stubborn and rebellious. This Psalm also teaches us about the nature of God and to trust God’s commandments. We hear how God is steadfast in grace, faithfulness, and goodness. This gives us HOPE for today, that despite our tendency to learn things the hard way, God calls humans into covenant and offers an abundance of grace, mercy, and goodness to his rebellious creatures. May we listen and learn to put our trust in God and keep God’s commandments.

 -- 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: Can you relate to the situation of learning life lessons the hard way? Do you sense God’s mercy and goodness in your life?

Daily Challenge: Think about something our generation still isn’t getting right. If God’s great commission is to love God and love our neighbors, how might our generation get it right if we love more? In what ways would it look and feel different? How might you put more love into practice?

Cosmic Vibes - August 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Judges 6:25-40; Acts 2:37-47; John 1:1-18

Every single time I read the prologue to John’s gospel, it takes my heart and mind to star-gazing. I used to do this all the time when I was a kid. I can still recall what it feels like to lay in my grassy back yard and just stare up into the sky for a while. The sky might be cloudy or clear, which determines how many stars there are to gaze upon. It doesn’t really matter how many, or if any at all, it’s magnetizing regardless. I can hear all the sounds of nature happening around me - the wind rustling leaves in trees and on the ground near me, sometimes owls are hooting, sometimes critters are crawling around, or bugs are making bug sounds. I listen to my own breathing, it seems amplified, its rhythms are soothing as I feel my stomach and chest rise and fall with each breath, and I can sense the air flowing through my nose, filling my lungs, and then gently flowing out again. It’s nice and steady for a bit, and then I take a great big cleansing breath - in through my nose and push it out through my mouth, creating a whole new sensation.

My mind wanders and I begin pondering those cosmic questions kids ponder. Who am I? How did I get here? Why am I here? Am I real? Do I matter? And then I begin sensing that my life is bigger than just me, that my life is part of this huge cosmos that I’m connected to. As I’ve grown older and more grounded in who I am as a beloved child of the universe, I still return to the breath for contemplation and guidance. I think this will be a lifelong practice for me as I continually renew my spirit and seek God for direction in who I am becoming and what I’m supposed to be doing.

The prologue opens the gospel as an ancient hymn. It uses abstract language that is very beautiful and mysterious. Its cosmic vibes lend itself well to ponder existence, meaning, and purpose. If you examine the prologue closely, you can hear very concisely and succinctly the story of creation and the abstract nativity story with Christ being birthed as the living Word. I think my favorite part of this passage is how it describes power as coming from the Word, the Incarnate Christ.

The Word becomes Flesh and dwells among humankind to redeem the Creation and lead humanity. Humankind has the option to receive Christ and believe in the Way of Christ, and those who do so, receive the power of Love as children of God. Power that is fueled by Love overcomes the love of power that creates injustice, unrest, and division. The way of Love that Jesus teaches is how we come to know peace. No Jesus, no peace; Know Jesus, know peace. That sounds very appealing to me right now. I think I’m gonna make time to sit outside and recall the holy longing toward life in Christ and do a little stargazing to renew my Spirit! 

-- 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: Which part of the prologue speaks to you the most?

Daily Challenge: Find a place where you can sit outside at night and experience stargazing. Say some prayers or just listen to the cosmos speaking to you.

Love Your Neighbor, Not Tolerate - August 1

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 75, 76; PM Psalm 23, 27; Judges 5:19-31; Acts 2:22-36; Matt. 28:11-20

Yesterday, one of the most monumental and beloved pastors in my hometown died from injuries after being hit by a car on his bicycle.  I didn’t know Steve well, but we both officiated my sister and brother-in-law’s wedding together.  He was the Senior Pastor of the largest PCUSA church in Memphis and was known as an advocate and warrior for justice and love.  The rabbi of the largest synagogue in the south wrote, “By emphasizing deed over creed and an expansive Christian faith that encompassed all of God’s children, Steve was a mirror of my own Jewish teaching of ‘tikun olam,' healing the brokenness and seeing God in every human being. We were brothers and kindred spirits.”

I write about Steve this morning because in the very best way, he taught an entire city about the power of Christian love and how faith communities could be places of hope and healing and resurrection.  He wrote two opinion pieces in local newspapers that have challenged me. I remember initially finding humor when a woman was seen sweeping the steps of Idlewild naked.  Many people were joking and writing silly things online including one of the local papers. The paper joked about what she was doing with a bag of dog food.  Steve penned an Op-ed about her and her fight with mental illness and his fierce struggle to love her and the challenge for all of us to see her with dignity.  I can still remember his response word for word: “alcoholism, mental illness, and homelessness.  And her name is Marilyn.” 

A few years later, after he retired, he wrote a bold and beautiful piece about what he learned in ministry where he pointed out that Jesus never said, tolerate your neighbor.  Jesus said Love your neighbor.  Tolerate your enemy?  Nope.  Love. “It makes all the difference in the world.” This fits our Gospel today, where we hear the Great Commission in Matthew’s Gospel.  We are the recipients of this commission: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Do you know what Jesus commanded?  It actually was very little, and it all requires love.  There are no commandments from Jesus’ mouth about who should be leaders of the church, or who can be married, or how we set up governments to care for her citizens.  Nope.  Feed the hungry, visit the imprisoned, clothe the naked, love your enemy, welcome children, and love your neighbor.  Maybe many of us have just been working on tolerating our enemies and our neighbors.  I guess that is better than nothing, but it is not what Jesus commanded. Jesus pushes us to grow for the rest of our earthly lives in how we understand this commandment.  Today, I am wondering how can we all go a little bit farther?

-       John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What is the difference between tolerance and love for you?   What are some practical ways of loving our enemy?

Daily Challenge

Read the link from the reflection piece.  Spend time reflecting one of the 12 things Steve learned in 39 years of ministry.

Mutual Understanding - July 31

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Judges 5:1-18; Acts 2:1-21; Matt. 28:1-10

In my last semester in college, with only a few electives left, I spent the semester at the University of Wales in Swansea.  I lived in a little flat off campus with six other wild college students: Mattie, Johnny, Stu, Jules, Ben, and Dan.  Mattie, Stu, and Dan where Welsh students, with Stu being from Northern Wales.  Johnny, Ben, and Jules were English.  I would sit and play football (soccer) on the PlayStation with Johnny and he would talk really fast, and I would be shaking my head.  Then he would say, “Oh you want me to say it like an American so you can understand” and he would spout off a ridiculous American accent and we would all laugh.  Mattie was probably the hardest to understand.  His accent was best described as a high pitch mumble, and I was the only one who struggled to decipher his words.

I loved the accents, and I treasure those few months, but as I read the story of Pentecost in our Lectionary, I thought of my time in Wales.  See, even though we shared a common language, there were a number of cultural barriers that kept us engaged with one another and having to dig deeper and learn how to understand what each was saying. 

A few years later, I ended up in India for several weeks.  I remember showing up in a small village in central India five hours after we were scheduled to be there. We were greeted with drum lines and dancing and dinner served out of teak leaves. We had a translator who would translate the local language to Hindi and my friend, Milind, would then translate the Hindi to English.  I can’t imagine how much was lost in translation, but it was inspiring to share and learn from one another.  I was so struck by how their culture was so focused on an event and a relationship where our Western culture had been so focused on time. 

The story of Pentecost that we read in Acts is a miracle because the crowd gathered hears each other speaking in their native tongue.  They understand each other.  But it can’t just be about language, can it?  There must be a broadening of culture that is understood at that moment.  Their understanding of each other has to be much deeper.  It’s not just what they say, but the stories and culture that cause them to say it. 

We seem to be angry than ever at the words and the stories that we share with each other.  If you are oblivious to this, you must have somehow managed to resist the urge to have a social media account.  Well done!  It seems to me that we focus a lot more on the words, then pausing to ask why someone might have said or shared what they did.  What are the experiences, the narratives, the culture that has caused someone to arrive at their position?  It still might be wrong, or crazy, or dangerous, but the Spirit of Pentecost drives us to go further. 

My friend, Eric Law, says the goals of dialogue should not be mutual agreement, but mutual understanding.  This is what we should seek when we engage with one another.  It seems like we need the Spirit of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit’s help to help us manage our life today.   Good thing we are told at Baptism that we are sealed with the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever.  Maybe we should remember that as we work collectively to engage one another. 

-John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What are the foundational experiences you have had that have led you to have different beliefs that other people?  What might some of the experiences be that others have had that would lead them to a different position?  

Daily Challenge

Today, something will be said, or you will read something that is offensive.  See this as an opportunity to engage in mutual understanding.

Showing Up For Each Other - July 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [70], 71; PM Psalm 74; Judges 4:4-23; Acts 1:15-26; Matt. 27:55-66

I can still remember answering the phone.  I was a youth minister and had served the church for about three years at that point.  It was 6:30am and I was awakened by the vibrating on the nightstand and the flashing name of my boss, the Rector of our church.  Mark was calling to let me know that a parishioner had not awakened from her sleep, the mother of three of the youth in my youth group.  “I’ll meet you at the house,” he said. 

I can also remember feeling totally unprepared for that moment.  I was the king of silly games and creating church trivia and orchestrating the world’s finest Messy Olympics.  Staying up at lock-in for hours on end or planning a ski trip was a breeze, but I had yet to handle any serious pastoral concerns, and the death of a parent was a first.  I remember the dread of not knowing what to say, or even worse, wondering what would happen if I said the wrong thing. 

Mark met me outside and walked me to the back porch.  I sat down next to the two oldest and we just sat.  Not a word was said for what felt like an hour of time.  I am sure it was much less.  Finally, the oldest child said, “Thank you for being here.”

Today’s Gospel is the account from Matthew of the end of the crucifixion. Jesus’ is left on the cross, then taken down when it is evening and his body is placed in a tomb.  I find it interesting that the author makes note that “many women were also there, looking on from a distance.”  And when he is placed in the tomb, and Joseph of Arimathea leaves, Mary and Mary Magdalene are there, sitting in the tomb.  They just show up.  The text simply says, “sitting opposite the tomb.”  I wonder about their grief and how much each of the Marys, who so loved Jesus, must have felt and the comfort that they brought each other in that painful place.  I wonder if the women looking from afar would have brought calm and peace to each other in that moment of death and despair. 

Our world seems as broken as ever these last few months.  Maybe it has always been this painful and broken, and technology is now able to open our eyes to the reality of sin and brokenness. I keep wondering how we will fix or relieve the pain of others, how we will heal the divisions we have made, and mend the ripping of the common fabric of our nation. 

It strikes me especially this morning of the profound power of the women in this text, specifically the Marys, who show up for each other.   They don’t try to change the outcome, or come up with a plan for new leadership, or find the next steps of living after Jesus. They just show up for each other.  Maybe we are being pushed to consider that in all of our desiring to change the outcomes of the world, we might be paralyzed to respond. Or worse, when we try to take away others pain, or anger, or justify what has caused it, we are missing the opportunity to pause, listen, and be present.   Maybe all that is really needed is the presence of each other in our common life together. 

Showing up is a little bit more difficult these days, I’ll admit.  But maybe we are being invited to consider how our presence in the world and each other’s lives is far richer and more important than we may have ever considered. Instead of trying to take away someone’s pain, we need to learn and listen.  Maybe we just need to find out how to be a little more present to each other and let God do the rest.  

-       John+

 Questions for Self-Reflection

When someone says something difficult, how often do you respond?  What is a profound moment of healing that you have received as a result of someone else’s presence?

Daily Challenge

Practice the pause and don’t respond technique today.  Here are a few options of things to say:  “That sounds very X” or “It sounds like you are feeling Y” 

Writing the Next Chapter - July 29

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Judges 3:12-30; Acts 1:1-14; Matt. 27:45-54

As I read Acts, I feel a loss for words.  I want to write something profound.  I am finding the rhythm of reflecting every two to three weeks for six consecutive days to be both life-giving for my spiritual life and an increasingly daunting challenge.  Some days it comes easy.   A word or phrase emerges from the reading and a whole narrative is constructed, or a memory washes over and the words begin to flow easily from my fingers.

Today is not that day.  I have sat, prayed, daydreamed, and drifted off down many different avenues and I still feel empty.  The irony of this is not lost in our Acts reading.  The evangelist Luke, and the author of the Gospel of Luke, is beginning to write a new story.  In the very first verse, he shares that he has already written all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning until the day he was taken up to heaven. He is starting a new story here.  And it will take us through Europe and Asia Minor and tell us the unbelievable story of the early church.

We as Christians focus so much of our attention on the life and teachings of Jesus Christ. Christ is paramount to our faith and Luke wrote the longest of the four recognized Gospels.  It is the only place we hear the story of the good Samaritan and the story of the prodigal son.   But we are reminded today that the story as told by Luke wasn’t over yet. 

As I struggle through these words and my own attempt to tell a story, we are reminded the story was yet complete when Luke wrote his first volume.  Much more of the story still needed to be told.  We needed to learn about Stephen and his faith.  We needed to learn about how the disciples grew in their understanding of God or how Lydia was moved to be baptized, or Paul was in prison, or Saul became Paul, or the great shipwreck at Malta.  Those stories are foundational to our faith and they all came after the story of Jesus.

As these words slowly come out, maybe there is a call for all of us to be reminded that our story has yet to be written, but it too matters.  The way you and I respond to God’s love is a part of the next volume to be written, to share the faith for the ages to come.  How we reach out in love, how we follow the Risen Christ, how we renew and grow in our faith, will be the next story told.  It is a holy story about God’s love unfolding in this world and the next chapter is about you and me. 

-John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Do you have a faith bucket-list?  What are the stories you would like to make come alive? 

Daily Challenge

If you are up for it, have fun trying to write your own obituary.  If that is too daunting, try making a list of five things related to your faith that could a faith bucket-list. 

And the Nose Fell Off - July 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 61, 62; PM Psalm 68:1-20(21-23)24-36; Judges 2:1-5,11-23; Rom. 16:17-27; Matt. 27:32-44

On our journey through the Holy Land back in March, we visited the place that many people today believe was Golgotha, the site of the crucifixion.  The early historian and priest Jerome believed the name was derived by the skulls that were left there. But in 1842, A German theologian noticed a limestone rock just north of the Damascus Gate that looked just like a skull.  In 1883, British Major-General Charles George Gordon endorsed this site as the true “place of the skull” as referred to in the Gospels.  Our group was shown a picture from the turn of the century, and I have to admit, it looks just like a skull.  Many support the claim that 2,000 years of weather might suggest that the site once had an even stronger appearance of a skull than it does today. 

But as I stood in the shadow of Golgotha, I couldn’t see it.  I kept looking at the picture and trying to compare and believed I was being bamboozled.  Turns out, strong rains in February 2015 made the nose fall off.  I kid you not…it is hard to imagine the “place of the skull” because the nose fell off.

Now, I don’t think we need to see Golgotha in its original form to wrestle with the true weight of our Gospel story.  But if we believe that Bible is not just an account of the past, but a story that invites us into a living and breathing engagement with the Risen Christ, how too does the setting where the story takes place change?  And where are we struggling to see the story, because it looks a little different than we thought it might?   Maybe it’s not our fault, it’s just the nose fell off. 

Our story of hope rests in the belief that Christ’s crucifixion was not the end.  That story has a setting and a location, but the story is still being written because the truth applies to our life as well.  Maybe things have changed in a way that are keeping you from seeing the story lived out in your life as well.   Maybe some rough weather and years of living have changed the setting.  I’m betting my life that hope is still there.  We just need to help each other do a better job of finding it. 

-       John+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Where do you struggle to see hope in your own life?  How have things changed over the past six months?  Six years?

Daily Challenge

Spend some time pondering how the setting changes a story.  Think of your favorite book or movie and how the setting impacts that story. 

A Track to the Water's Edge - July 27

Today’s Reflection: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Joshua 24:16-33; Rom. 16:1-16; Matt. 27:24-31

I am reminded today of a story found in the works of a South African woman, written in 1890 called “Dreams” by Olive Schreiner.  Her work was first translated and introduced to the United States by Howard Thurman, a spiritual leader to Martin Luther King, Jr. The story is an incredibly powerful allegory about the fight for freedom, one that inspired King. 

In this story, a woman wakes from her sleep and is trying to make her way to freedom.  She encounters a wise old man.   She goes up to the water’s edge but there is no bridge. She asks the old man: “How do I get across? There is no bridge”. He says: “You must take off your clothes. They are dragged down by them who go into the water so clothed”. She takes off her clothes. She has a baby. He says: “Put that baby down, when you are in the water, you will forget to fight, you will only think of him.”  The baby draws blood.

She puts the baby down. The man says, “Go.”

She reaches the water and the woman yells, “For what do I go to this far land which no one has ever reached? Oh, I am alone! I am utterly alone!”  The man says, “Be quiet, listen. What do you hear?”   She answers: “I hear the sound of thousands and thousands and thousands of footsteps of those who came here before me.” He says, “How does a locust get across the stream? Some come down and jump into the water, and their bodies get washed away. Then some sink and the others pile up on top of them and their bodies build a bridge so the others can cross.”   She said, “Who is going across this bridge?” His reply: “All of humanity.” “And what about those who are washed away? What do they get out of it?” she asks. “They beat a track to the water’s edge.”

The story strikes a chord with me in the sacrificial way we are called to live and model our lives.   The fight for beloved community where all people are restored to the fullness of life through God’s justice has been a life long journey where many have yet to see the fruits of their labors, and yet they still beat a track to the water’s edge.

This old story rang a chord again in today’s reading from Romans’s as we hear Paul name Phoebe, Prisca, Aquila, Epanetus, Mary, Andronicus, Ampliatus, Urbanas, Apelles, Aristobulus, Herodion, and that’s just getting started.  He is naming people who have a profound impact on the early church. With the exception of Phoebe (and likely only because her name was employed in the Scriptural justification for the ordination of women), these are names that we do not know. I have read this passage many times in my life, and still only remembered Phoebe. It hit me in reading that list of names, that there must be millions of people who have gone before who have helped share the vision for Beloved Community, and shaped the faith that inspires so many, this radical way of Love, and these people are names that I do not know. 

I keep foolishly believing that if I work hard enough, or can inspire enough people, God’s kingdom, God’s radical love, and the way of true freedom for all people will have fully arrived.  And I forget, that for two thousand years, people have been beating a track to the water’s edge.  Yep… I have an ego to work on.

So what about us? What is our purpose in this journey with God. Maybe it is just to beat a track to the water’s edge.  And maybe knowing the story that others have been doing just the same, can inspire us, and help us see that we are a part of something much larger, something for the rest of humanity to cross. 

-       John+

Questions for Self-Reflection 

Where in your life do you feel like you are making no progress?  Why then do you try?   Is it worth it? 

Daily Challenge

Spend some time today on Google or Wikipedia trying to learn the name of one person who you did not know before that has positively affected the life of other people.

Time flies (or does it?) - July 25

Today’s Readings AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23); Joshua 23:1-16; Rom. 15:25-33; Matt. 27:11-23

I saw The Music Man on public television when I was a child. Robert Preston and Shirley Jones and young Ronnie Howard. I loved it. My mom recorded the movie on our VCR, and my sisters and I watched that VHS tape ad nauseam. In the scene where the ladies of River City are preparing for their performance of Grecian Urns at the outdoor festival, the mayor’s wife prods their practice along proclaiming, “Tempus fugit, ladies, tempus fugit!”

Upon opening the Bible to the excerpt from Joshua appointed for this morning, I feel like I’ve stepped into a time warp. Joshua is now “old and well advanced in years.” How did the time fly so quickly? Just yesterday we read an action-packed account of God protecting Joshua, the Israelites, and Gibeonites from the five kings of the Amorites by inciting mayhem and hurling “huge stones from heaven” (hailstones) at those enemies. Through praying to God, Joshua stops the sun in the sky for a day. Big stuff! And today, it begins, “A long time afterward…” What did we miss in the middle? I’ll tell you. Conquests. Allotment of tribes across the lands of the Jordan River. A survey of peoples and boundaries. Lots of names.

What I love about getting to fast-forward to where Joshua is near the end of his life, is that we’re given the gift of his wisdom and experience, as he surveys all he has done. Hold fast to the Lord your God, he says. Observe the laws of Moses. God is faithful to the promises made to God’s people. Be very careful to love the Lord your God, and do not stray toward serving other gods, unless you want to see a flash of divine anger from the Lord.  

There are times during this summer that I wish I could command time to go faster. Where is the fast-forward button? I want to be past this time of physical separation from extended family and dear friends. I want to gather together for an outdoor festival or indoor worship service, free from fear, conflict, and plague. And time doesn’t work like that. Together, we get to do the hard work of living out our faith. Exile did not end immediately. And this time of trial and toil is similar.

Let us draw near to God in prayer, and cast our burdens upon the Lord. Let us offer support and encouragement to one another. Let us listen to a diversity of voices. Let us speak and act from a position of God’s love, for that is the gift given to us.

We will get to a place where our story will be told, and it will open, “A long time afterward…” We will have learned a lot. We will have regrets and successes. The Lord our God will still be with us.

Time flies, and waiting is the hardest part.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

• What part of the here-and-now do you want to slow down?

• What do you want to hurry up and move past?

Daily Challenge

Take a moment today to slow down. Appreciate where you are right now. Name five blessings that surround you, and give thanks to God.

Confession time – July 24

Today’s Readings AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Joshua 9:22-10:15; Rom. 15:14-24; Matt. 27:1-10

“I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me." Psalm 51:3

Church has been a place of comfort for me. The cadence of the week was brightened by Sundays worshiping at the Church of the Ascension in Montgomery. I have memories of leaning against my dad, nestled against his side, while services were conducted. My sisters and I would sit on needlepoint kneelers, drawing on bulletins with stumpy, eraser-less golf pencils. My mom would gently put her hand on a shoulder or knee to indicate the whispering was not so quiet.

There was a time, however, when the connection and experience of church became deeper for me. I believe it was Holy Week, leading up to Easter…but my memory on the exact date or occasion is foggy. (I was probably about 10 or so.) What I do know is that there was a service of confession that happened. People could go up to the altar rail for prayers and absolution. I watched some folks file up to the front to kneel. There were tear-stained faces as parishioners trickled by to their seats. The light in the sanctuary was bright yellow. And I felt moved to go forward but was stuck. My family was rooted to our pew. My dad was on the outside. But I decided to go up to the altar. I cannot really name why…I had no specific wrong to name. I simply felt a tugging within me, and a need to kneel. The words from Psalm 51 resonate deeply with this memory: “I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.” Though I could not put words to it, I could feel the 10-year-old sins rolling around within me. And so, I pushed past my dad and went up. I do not recall what I said, if anything. I can remember bowing my head and tears streaming hot down my cheeks. And as I returned to my family, I felt cleansed in a different way.

I wonder how Judas felt as he went to turn himself in, confessing of his wrongdoing: “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.” He handed over the payment for betraying Jesus to the authorities. Did he feel some measure of weight was lifted from his soul through repentance? I feel great compassion for him today.

Friends, sin burdens each of us. How are you called to wrestle honestly with those sins before you today? Know that you do not wrestle alone, and nothing can separate you from the love of God.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

How does sin tug on you, or trip you up? What actions do you take to confess wrongdoing and make amends?

Daily Challenge

Think of someone you have wronged. Make a confession to God of that sin and ask God’s forgiveness. Pray also about how you might make amends.

Cock-a-doodle Denial – July 23

Today’s Readings AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 66, 67; Joshua 9:3-21; Rom. 15:1-13; Matt. 26:69-75

When our family lived in Huntsville, I occasionally took the kids shopping with me at the local Kohl’s. Though I went for a focused reason, we would inevitably wander over to the toy section, conveniently located between the toddler boy clothes and the restroom. (What an ingenious trap of commercial upselling set for beaten down parents and their energetic children!) While in the mire of “I want” and “I need”, a shrill chirping noise began sporadically sounding. The best I can tell, it came from the area of the emergency exit by the toy section. Perhaps it was a door or smoke alarm that was malfunctioning? Whatever its genesis, it was annoying and happened each time we were there.

It was bothersome to me; it also got the attention of my kids. Robinson was probably 2 ½ years old when we first heard it, and he would ask, “Why that noise, Mommy?” And then he grew disquieted. The high-pitched beep scared him. He wanted to go home. “That creeps me out,” he says, even today, of that sound. That repetitive sensory experience was enough to break the toy-grabbing desires of a tiny tot.

It is a sound foretold by Jesus that rouses Peter to awareness in the gospel from Matthew today. Not an electronic beep, but the crowing of a rooster. “Before the cock crows, you will deny me three times,” Jesus says.

I can imagine sitting near Peter, in the darkness and swaying shadows of the courtyard, outside with the warm breeze blowing. Can you hear the noises of the earth and of the people in it? At this hour, Jesus is undergoing examination in a trial by the elders and chief priests. Peter has followed along from a distance, to stay informed of what is happening. As he waits near the guards, people are milling about. A servant-girl recognizes him and says, “You also were with Jesus the Galilean.” Peter dismisses her assertion. He moves to a different location outside the house and another servant-girl says to folks around her, “This man was with Jesus of Nazareth.” The second denial: I do not know the man. A little more time passes, and darkness and denial are enveloping Peter, who earlier in the evening had stated so clearly to Jesus, “Though all become deserters because of you, I will never desert you.” The third denial comes. And the cock crows. Peter weeps.

Have you been awakened by a sound or sensory experience, to face a painful truth about yourself that you’ve been avoiding? I have. It is disquieting and gut-wrenching. It’s like a tear amidst the fabric of who we think we are. It can be devastating. And yet, Jesus calls us back. Jesus offers redemption and reconciliation. Jesus loves us, just as he loves Peter. Though you may be facing a hard truth about yourself or the world around you, know that you are loved.

And so, it is time for me to stop. Robinson has walked in making the “ding-a-ling-a-ling” sound.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

• What sound quickly gets your attention?

• What is the voice or gesture you use to get the attention of others?

Daily Challenge

Pray that God opens your eyes to something you’ve been in denial about. Ask for the courage and patience to explore that space, and perhaps ask someone (friend, spiritual director, counselor) to help you in that soul work.