Go, and Make Your Bed - August 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 5, 6; PM Psalm 10, 11; Job 6:1-4,8-15,21; Acts 9:32-43; John 6:60-71

Confession: I am not good at making the bed.  Or I just don’t do it very often.  Anne does.  And if it’s a lazy Saturday and I want to take my time getting out of bed, and she has already gotten up, she will wait not so patiently for the moment when I get up for some reason to pounce on the cleanliness opportunity.  Within moments, the bed will be made perfectly, and the fifty-seven pillows will be restored to their righteous glory.  The bed will then look really appealing and will be beckoning me to sit down and read a book or browse the news on my phone, which will only lead to an exasperated release of air and a head shake, and a smile from me, that says, “but it looks so comfortable.”  And we will have a conversation about why the bed needs to be made every day, first thing in the morning. It has almost become a playful game in our household. 

I thought of our little game when I stumbled across the story of Aeneas in the book of Acts.  Peter finds a man named Aeneas who has been bedridden for eight years.  The Scripture is sure to point out that he was paralyzed.  Peter heals Aeneas in the name of Christ, but instead of asking him to get up and go forth into the world, he orders him to make his bed!  In the next passage, Peter heals Tabitha who was known to have become ill and died.  He raises her from the dead and leads her out into the community to show off this great miracle.  But not Aeneas. He is off cleaning his room. 

The best I can gather, the writer of Acts, likely Luke who was probably also a physician, is drawing focus on Aeneas being able to do something that he hadn’t been able to do for many years.  It strikes me as odd, and yet only someone who had lain in a bed for eight years would miss being able to make it.  Would Aeneas find life and joy and purpose in the making of his bed?   Luke thought so.  So did Peter.

I think it is easy to find ourselves overwhelmed by the day to day tasks of our lives.  The cleaning of a house, making school lunches, mowing the yard, caring for an aging parent or loved one.  But Peter reminds us that there is some beauty in the ordinary moments of life.  For many, the stresses of pandemic make life extraordinary challenging, but there is some wisdom in the reading of Acts, part of living the resurrected life is to treasure each moment, every task at hand.  Finding a way to appreciate each opportunity might help us recognize an even greater gift in this life we have been called into.  Go, and make your bed!

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What tasks are especially difficult to accomplish these days?  What do you not do, that you should?

Daily Challenge:  Find something you have been putting off.  Complete the task, all while giving thanks for the opportunity to do just that.

Seersucker or Vulnerability - August 24

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7; Job 4:1,5:1-11,17-21,26-27; Acts 9:19b-31; John 6:52-59

Five months and almost to the day that we moved our services to be online only, we gathered not once, but twice at Saint Stephen’s.  This Sunday, we had our first early morning outdoor worship service spoken on the back patio.  Later in the day, we gathered with a small group to give thanks and bless the outdoor meditation garden built by a future Eagle Scout and her troop and fellow scouts.  And I saw something that surprised me and filled me with joy and hope at both services that I had not expected to see: seersucker clothing.

 Yep.  The joys of living in the south in the summertime!  Oddly, on Saturday as I was trying to take my son, Jack, to a run a few errands, it took much longer to get started because of a reluctance to get dressed.  “I don’t want to put on clothes!  It’s the weekend!”  He has yet to be indoctrinated with that wonderful sense of southern culture where every outing is a chance to show off our very best.   And it hit me Sunday morning. Since churches haven’t been meeting and weddings have been postponed, I haven’t marveled at the wavy and crinkled beauty of seersucker and linen.  The pastel colors of Lily Pulitzer lie in the doldrums of everyone’s closets.  I think this Sunday I even spied some white bucks (dress shoes that should only be worn from Memorial Day to Labor Day and fashionably without socks).   

I love the tradition of dressing up, and will welcome that back into our congregation as we find ways of gathering again, but isn’t it an odd practice?  Almost as if we need to convince our peers that we have it all together.  Intellectually, we know this is rarely true, but we seem to put a whole lot of effort to convince friends and neighbors, otherwise.

Paul is one of the most interesting characters we encounter in Scripture.  He is the author of at least seven of the books of the Bible and another seven are attributed to him.  We hear about him today in the story of Acts by his previous name, Saul.  He was known as Saul when he was persecuting Christians and after a mystical experience on a dusty road, he temporarily goes blind.  Our reading in Acts follows this experience where he is still known as Saul but is going around professing the good news of Jesus Christ.  

Imagine this: the person who has been killing your brothers and sisters walks into your life to offer you the hope and peace of God.  It wouldn’t make any sense   No wonder the Jewish leaders want him killed!  I am left wondering how Saul would have felt walking into those communities where he had brought such pain and suffering.  He couldn’t have covered up who he was with seersucker or pastel shorts.  How would he have convinced others he could be trusted?  

I am not a social scientist or a psychologist, but I have an educated guess and it’s one word: vulnerability.  How else could the violent persecutor named Saul become the foundational teacher of our faith?  Remember when he tells people about how he is weak (2nd Corinthians 11). 

I can’t wait to be greeted in seersucker and pastel colors (unless it’s after Labor Day because that’s just wrong) but I wonder how much more powerful it would be to don our true vulnerability in who we are and in who God has created.  Maybe we will help others come to know Christ just as Paul has shaped our faith.  And that’s a lot better than anything we will find in our wardrobe. 

 - John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  

Do you find it difficult to share your weaknesses and imperfections within your faith community?  Why?  Are there ways that you intentionally cover these up or is it more accidental or cultural?

Daily Challenge

Share with a friend from church one thing that you are struggling with.  Invite them to pray for you. 

Friends: Holy Partners in Compassion -- August 22

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 137:1-6(7-9), 144; PM Psalm 104; Job 3:1-26; Acts 9:10-19a; John 6:41-51

They sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.   - Job 2:13

In elementary school, music class was a big part of our weekly activities. There was the washboard band, studying George Bizet’s Carmen, and every parent’s favorite: recorders. I learned how to care for and clean that highly annoying ecru plastic instrument, but it didn’t take long for my parents to send me outside to practice. Individual musical preparation was one challenge; coordinating with others in the class was quite a different feat. I remember feeling the pressure to stay in sync with my friends and being so happy at the sounds we made in concert together. (Notice I hesitate to call it “music”!) It was one of those formative bonding experiences, fusing friendships during an awkward phase of life.

Some of those classmates continue as my dearest and longest friendships. They sat with my sisters and me in a time of grief and suffering. Ali flew to Birmingham from New York City to be with me in the last of my mom’s days. Catherine bought the Bruce Springsteen concert tickets my sister couldn’t use, due to our mom’s illness…and her mom Diane scrubbed our kitchen floor, so that we had a fresh and hospitable space to host people checking on us. Katherine (another one) made an appointment and took me to get my hair done the day before my mom’s funeral. Each of these friends, and many others, heard of our troubles and came to console and comfort us. They saw that our suffering was great and remained present with us. Nearly 18 years later, I cannot remember many of the words spoken, but I remember their physical presence and compassion.

The presence of friends in the midst of trouble is so crucial, and the excerpt from our Old Testament reading demonstrates this. Job erupts in mourning and deep lament. He voices his pain because he was able to sit for seven days supported by his friends Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. They do not try to solve his problems and painful sores. They mourn his troubles and simply sit with him in the misery, saying nothing. The three friends are embodied reminders to Job that he is not alone, and that he is loved. And surrounded by that certainty, Job expresses a deluge of despair and pain.

The dynamic at play in Job is one of the reasons this time of physical distance is so painful and disruptive. We humans are made for relationship and connection. Whether your cultural context is from the southeastern United States, or another place of community and care, experiencing the losses and fears that surround us in isolation is not normal! We are grieving and we long for our friends to be near, for they are our partners in compassion. When the planes flew into the Twin Towers and thousands of people died on September 11, 2001, my friend Rose Ann called me and said, “We are going to church to pray. Meet us there at 6 o’clock.” When my friend’s sister died suddenly, our priest called several of us and said, “We are going to Andrea’s to sit. Meet me there.” This is our routine: we gather. We sit. We support. And so, living into limitations on in-person gatherings is so hard, even when they are in the best interest for public health.

But wait -- here’s the good news: we can do hard things (with God’s help)! Job endured deep pain and felt forsaken, yet he did not abandon his faith…and God did not leave Job behind. We, like Job, can do hard things, even though we may not have our friends nearby to offer comfort and consolation. Keep the faith and give thanks to God for friends!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Who has been a friend alongside you in a dark time? What helps you be a partner in compassion? What keeps you from sitting in silence with someone’s deep pain?

Daily Challenge

Let the ministry of presence offered by Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar to inspire you. Who might need your presence today? Pray about it and reach out.

Reading the Signs - August 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 140, 142; PM Psalm 141, 143:1-11(12); Job 2:1-13; Acts 9:1-9; John 6:27-40 

My family lives, for the time being, near the bottom of a dead-end street. It wasn’t like that when we moved here. Traffic cutting through to other parts of Hoover would go quickly down the hill and past our house, unfettered by stop signs, speed bumps, or police radar. One day in July (they all run together), while walking across the quaint covered bridge a few houses down from us, we noted a hole about 2 feet in diameter at the edge of the road. Our nine-year-old walked over and touched her toe to the area. Dirt and sand crumbled and fell below. Looking tentatively into the hole, we saw rocks, and the creek bed far below. We stepped back and avoided further excitement.

And so, that covered bridge over the culvert and creek is now closed. Metal barriers are chained all the way across, so that even pedestrians cannot cross. The neighborhood gossip is that the bridge could collapse at any moment. As with many projects involving roadways, these repairs take time. There are survey marks on the ground, but no trucks or equipment are on site. There are some metal signs around the neighborhood to warn people that the road is closed with an arrow directing people vaguely in another direction for detours, but it is not specified that the bridge is out. Many vehicles have driven down the street, only to be surprised by the orange cones and reflective indicators ahead. Amazon delivery truck, ambulance, and a teenager on a motorcycle – each turns around, having missed the signs on their way. The detour is not clear. Confusion ensues.  

Signs are helpful, if we can just understand them. In John’s gospel, we hear about Jesus talking with a crowd of people. They ask what they can do to have the ability to perform the works and signs of God. I hear in their question a nod to less than righteous motivations: how can we wield power and miracles like you, so that we can be admired and influential? Jesus replies, “This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent.” In other words, the proof of God working is transformed lives -- those who interact with Jesus believe in him as the Son of God, recognizing divinity and humanity mingled in love, sent to walk upon the earth. I know that is a lot to believe. It’s quite fantastic.

The examination continues. The people in the crowd push Jesus further, asking, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you? What work are you performing?” A few verses later, Jesus says, “I said to you that you have seen me and yet do not believe.” The crowd just cannot see the sign, or open their souls to believe. It’s a big thing to believe. Seeing is believing…that’s a slogan we hear in culture. But in this gospel account, seeing Jesus and experiencing his miracles and teaching is not enough to win everyone over to believe who he is. It’s not enough today, either. Friends, believing is hard…even when there are signs around.

So, what are we to do when we’re a bit lost or confused in our faith in God? Let’s take a lesson from the story of Paul’s conversion experience on the road to Damascus: let go of leveraging power and instead, seek humility. Next, we can get on our knees and pray that God will open our eyes and ears in new ways to the signs and blessings that surround us. And we can draw near to the stories of people of faith – from long ago in Holy Scriptures, and from contemporary witnesses of God’s love. We do all these things so that we may pay attention to the signs and believe, and in doing so, perhaps God will shape us more closely into the image of Christ.  

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Jesus talks about being the bread of life. What about receiving the consecrated bread and wine in Eucharist deepens your belief in Jesus? What other experiences help you believe?

Daily Challenge

Ponder what signs draw you to believe more deeply in Christ. Journal for five minutes about what comes up for you. If you are missing Eucharist, consider signing up to receive communion in your own home.

Keep Paddling - August 20

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 131, 132, [133]; PM Psalm 134, 135; Job 1:1-22; Acts 8:26-40; John 6:16-27

I saw a GIF this week that made me chuckle: two kids in lifejackets are up to their necks in a river, paddling as possible, with a swamped canoe completely submerged beneath them. To be sure, I’ve had my share of canoe gaffes…and I find that this scenario resonates with a wide range of lived experiences, especially in 2020: though you’re not alone, the job ahead of you is heading quickly toward the zone known as “complete and utter failure”. Do you ever feel like that? What are we to do in such quagmires? Various responses come to mind (and this is far from an exhaustive list): Jump out of the boat. Laugh. Cry. Panic. Drop your paddle. Freeze in disbelief. Watch your cooler float away. Blame someone. While some options may yield resolution faster than others, there is no perfect or easy answer, is there? It is a messy situation, any way you cut it. Perhaps the best to be done is simply the next right choice for you, and for those in your sinking canoe.

The disciples are in a tenuous boat situation in today’s gospel reading. They are going across a lake, and it is nighttime. Several miles from shore, the winds pick up and the waters grow choppy. Maybe a couple of the disciples are turning “green around the gills,” seasick from being tossed about on the waves. I imagine puddles pooling in the bottom of the boat and tensions beginning to escalate. And then, we are told they see Jesus milling about, walking on the rough waters in the black night…and he heads toward their tossed-about vessel. If they are not unsettled by the mighty winds, they are now totally petrified by Jesus approaching the boat.

What happens next? Jesus acts first, saying, “It’s me, friends! Don’t be so fearful!” I wonder how effective his calming words are, for his friends clamor to the edge and try to pull him into the boat with them. And then, within a blink of an eye, the vessel reaches the shore of their destination. In the chaos of this aquatic adventure, calm and stability comes when Jesus is in charge. He doesn’t get into the boat, as the disciples suggest. Neither does he simply stop the tumultuous waters. Rather, Jesus shows God’s overwhelming generosity by immediately moving them to safety at the shore. I recall from Wednesday’s gospel how Andrew the disciple doubts that the five loaves and two fish are enough to feed the large crowd gathered. Jesus does not heed the caution – and feeds the people. He responds in a more generous way than expected, feeding thousands and yielding 12 baskets of leftovers. Humbling, huh?

I’ll highlight two points: first, Jesus is present with us in the face of our caution, uncertainty, and fears. He holds space for that discomfort. Second, God’s generosity surpasses what we could hope for ourselves. Just as the disciples could not pull Jesus into their boat, we cannot put God into a neat and tidy box. Neither scenario allows for the movement of the Holy Spirit to swirl around us, move our hearts and minds, and empower us to experience the sacred.

So, pray big and often, knowing that God will be with us in the quagmire. Trust that the work of the Holy Spirit will surprise and overwhelm us. Remember that Jesus will calm our fears, whispering, “It is I; do not be afraid.” And finally, keep paddling!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What have you learned from a failure recently? How might you be more generous to yourself and others when the next failure arises?

Daily Challenge

Take time to call a person you trust and invite them into an experiment. Talk about a failure you’ve experienced or a fear you have. Ask them to listen and be with you in that vulnerable space. No guidance or problem-solving is needed…just sharing space in the “sinking canoe”.

Reconnecting the Remnant - August 19

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 119:145-176; PM Psalm 128, 129, 130; Judges 18:16-31; Acts 8:14-25; John 6:1-15 

As the book of Acts opens, the author sets the stage, reminding readers and hearers about the forty days after Jesus’ resurrection and the words Jesus imparted to his chosen apostles. When asked if this is when Zion will be restored, Jesus answers:

“It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses to Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

And then, as he finished speaking those words, Jesus is lifted up and a cloud covers him and takes him out of sight.

I sit here, wondering in awe about the Ascension of Jesus. My mind wanders to the excerpt from Acts 8 that is appointed for today, where we find the apostles John and Peter in Samaria. Philip has been in the region of the Samaritans proclaiming the Good News of Jesus, too. I wonder, do the apostles remember that they are fulfilling the instruction Jesus gave to them, that they would bear witness all over the place – including Samaria? While the Ascension is key to who Jesus is, those in abject suffering are clamoring for visceral transformation – healing of body and peace of mind.

I am acutely aware that there is also a protracted history of tension and difference between the people of Samaria and others across Judea. In the Exodus (700ish years before Jesus’ time), the educated, wealthy, and influential Israelites are captured and taken to Babylon. The people of the land and the poorer classes of Israelites are left behind. So, the Samaritans are descended from the remnants of the people of Israel. While they, too, believed in Yahweh, their experience of being people of God included the fabric of their identity being torn and left on the ground to be trodden upon by many peoples and beliefs for hundreds of years. Samaritans were shaped by being left behind, while the Israelites who lived through the Babylonian captivity were formed by imprisonment and wandering lost in the desert. In that separation in space and time, the divide deepened. Those who lived as captives in a foreign land began committing their ancient stories to scrolls. They heard prophecies. They doubted God and were reminded of God’s faithfulness.

But the story we don’t hear as often, or in great detail, is the story of the remnant…those left behind and left out. These people were also formed by the invasion of the Assyrians and other conquerors. These people also went through times of doubting God, and were missing the stabilization of the religious leaders and the storytellers who recounted the history of their relationship with the Lord. The ways they practiced their faith evolved differently, too.

And so, today, we read that those in Samaria have accepted the Good News of Jesus. Hallelujah! God is doing greater things than we can hope for or imagine, by gathering all of us up – from various experiences, political perspectives, and in spite of the tensions that run deeply among us. And God does more than gather – for the gift given in the gathering is the Holy Spirit.

May the Holy Spirit swirl around you today, wiping away the hurts of being left out, left behind, or misunderstood. May the Holy Spirit embolden you to pray for those with whom you feel hurt. May the Holy Spirit welcome and reconnect you to God, others, and yourself.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you felt “left out” recently? Who has invited you back in? Conversely, when have you left someone else out?

Daily Challenge

Sometimes reconciliation happens in times of shock and change. Pray for someone with whom you hope to be reconciled. Listen for how you can invite that person back into relationship.

I'm wide awake and I'm in pain - August 18

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm [120], 121, 122, 123; PM Psalm 124, 125, 126, [127]; Judges 18:1-15; Acts 8:1-13; John 5:30-47

Sam and I did yardwork over the weekend. The kids were helping. It was a beautiful day and we got so much accomplished. And yet, I still felt a pang of being discomforted, in the midst of creating straight lines in the green lawn. I put in my headphones as I kept mowed the grass. I heard a song by Jason Isbell that hit me hard, naming what I sometimes feel. He and his wife Amanda Shires penned these words, “Anxiety / why do you always get the best of me?” They tell of feelings of conflict, even though life around them is idyllic. Jason sings of his desire to be strong and reliable, while naming that he actually feels weak and small. And the song ends with the repetition of a gut-wrenching line – “I’m wide awake and I’m in pain.”

I’ve had this album for a while, and the truth resonating in this song hits me differently during this season of physical distance, uncertainty about COVID-19, and divisions that surround us. Anxiety is on the rise. In a report I read a few days ago, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention announced that adults are reporting increased struggles with mental health and substance abuse. At the end of June 2020, 31% of respondents to a survey reported anxiety or depression, 13% reported increased or new substance use, and 11% reported seriously considering suicide. This is an exhausting and hard time for many people. It is an exhausting and hard time for me…though much of my proximate life is beautiful. How about you?

That is why I love the psalms. As a teen, I would play “Bible roulette”, thumbing through the pages of the Bible searching for words of comfort or affirmation from God. The psalms are a likely source for meeting the resonance we seek. Today, the words of Psalm 121 offer reassurance and recentering:

The Lord himself watches over you;
the Lord is your shade at your right hand,
So that the sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.
The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;
it is he who shall keep you safe.
The Lord shall watch over your going out and your coming in,
from this time forth for evermore.

I need these words to slow me down, and to remind me that I am not at the center of this chaos, and I alone cannot calm this storm. All the burden is not on my shoulders. It is God who watches over me – it is God who watches over you, too. The Lord offers protection and comfort. And being grounded in that, I find Jesus’ words from John’s gospel to wash over me anew: “I can do nothing on my own. As I hear, I judge; and my judgement is just, because I seek to do not my own will but the will of him who sent me.”

As Jesus was restating for his followers that his power and ministry were rooted in God, he reminds me today that I must pray the brazen prayer for the Holy Spirit to empower me to do God’s will and overwhelm my own. And when I start from that posture, then I get to ask Jesus to walk alongside me to be my strength when I feel weak and lost.

Friends, if you are struggling today, and find yourself slipping into protracted darkness, substance use, or self-harm, please reach out for help. Call the church. Call a mental health professional. Don’t just lie in the darkness, wide awake and in pain. You are not alone, and you are loved.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Have you felt protracted sadness of late? Who have you talked to about this? If you’ve not talked about it, who can you share these feeling with?

Daily Challenge

Write down one word or phrase from the psalms appointed for today that brings you peace. Put that phrase in a place you’ll see for the rest of the week. Use those words as an opening to pray to God.

Micah and the Silver Shekels - August 17

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 106:1-18; PM Psalm 106:19-48; Judges 17:1-13; Acts 7:44-8:1a; John 5:19-29

I hear in today’s readings an invitation and challenge to speak and receive truth with generosity. In Acts, the soon-to-be-martyred Stephen speaks honestly about the repeated refusal of the Hebrew people to submit to the power and law of God. (Spoiler alert: it doesn’t go well.) In the reading from John, Jesus repeats the phrase “very truly, I tell you” multiple times, signaling his audience to pay attention to truth his hearers need to receive. (The ending here is evolving, as Jesus keeps calling each of us to listen and believe.) And then, there is the reading from Judges.

In this ancient story from the 17th chapter of Judges, a man named Micah confesses to his mother: he has stolen 1,100 pieces of silver from her and now is returning them. We don’t get a lot of other context here to understand Micah’s genesis, except for, “There was a man in the hill country of Ephraim…”. So, I find myself wondering, how did Micah start that conversation with his mom? Coming clean about a wrongdoing, egregious or not, does not come easily. Did he agonize over the words to say? Was he paralyzed with fear? What possible responses did he expect from his mother?

As my mind is spinning about their relationship dynamics, I am reminded of story: A school-aged child took a toy from the church and passed it off as her own, until the truth came out. When confronted, she lied…because, let’s face it: coming clean about a wrongdoing does not come easily. Her parents brought her to see the minister, to tell the truth and return the trinket. Tears running down her cheeks and eyes downcast, the girl was quaking as she handed over the doll and stammered through a confession. The priest looked only at the girl (not her parents), receiving her truth with grace and generosity. There was no shaming, no chastising. After a moment of silence, the minister thanked the girl for her honesty and told her she had done a hard and right thing. Down the road, there could be other temptations that had bigger, life-altering consequences, and so the priest invited her to remember the feeling of being honest in that moment…to hold onto that. Just when the conversation was about to end, the priest said this: “Virginia, you have told the truth, and you are forgiven. Now you get to forgive yourself.”

In today’s odd and somewhat obscure story in Judges, Micah’s mother receives the 28 pounds of silver (and his confession) with a similar level of gratitude and generosity. She responds, “May my son be blessed by the LORD!” as he returns the stolen goods. While we do not hear more of their exchange, what stands out for me is this: Micah’s honest revelation of truth – albeit hard – is met with forgiveness and reconciliation. (And yes, I did note the remainder of the passage which talks about an idol being cast out of the returned silver…the Bible is wonderfully complicated, isn’t it!?)

Today, let us take these lessons from Micah and his mother: speak honestly when we have wronged another and accept truth with generosity.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

How are you at sharing truth? How are you at hearing or receiving truth from someone else? Do you do one better than the other?

Daily Challenge

Think of a truth you've been keeping to yourself, whether burdensome or enlightening. Pray about entrusting that truth with someone who will receive it generously. Make a plan to share it.

Changing Dry Land into Springs - August 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 107:33-43, 108:1-6(7-13); PM Psalm 33; Judges 16:1-14; Acts 7:30-43; John 5:1-18

Today’s Reflection

The Earth is in constant flux. Environmental conditions, climate changes, and human use of the land, can change a place that once was lush pastures into a desert or what was once a verdant forest into a treeless wasteland.

But the reverse is also possible. Lands that have been over farmed can be brought back into fruitfulness when the people who live there begin to interact with the environment differently. As we read in Psalm 107: 33-38, “He changed deserts into pools of water and dry land into water-springs. He settled the hungry there, and they founded a city to dwell in. They sowed fields, and planted vineyards, and brought in a fruitful harvest. He blessed them, so that they increased greatly; he did not let their herds decrease.”

These verses from Psalm 107 remind me of a very short (10-minute) film I watched earlier this year, The Church Forests of Ethiopia: A Mystical Geography. Vast swaths of Ethiopia that once were forested are now dry, dusty wastelands that sound much like “the fruitful land that became salt flats.” But what one discovers by looking down on the terrain from above are islands of forest scattered amidst the wasteland.

Why are there trees growing in these circular pockets? Because these are where the Ethiopian Orthodox churches are found. Around each church, the neighboring farms did not encroach onto the church’s land because a wall is built around each church to demarcate its sacred land. This observation caused forest ecologists Alemayehu Wassie and Meg Lowman to propose a partnership with these churches. They have worked together to ask the clergy and people of each church community to consider moving their church walls further outward, extending the protective, sacred space around each church outward—allowing the existing trees to flourish and new growth to emerge on the margins of each island of trees.

Psalm 107 also reminds me of a non-profit, founded by a former colleague of mine, which seeks to spark both environmental and economic renewal. The Alliance for International Reforestation (AIR) was founded by Anne Hallum, a political science professor emerita, bringing together her Christian ethics (she was an elder in the Presbyterian church across from campus) with her concerns for improving the health of the earth and the well-being of its people.

Focusing their efforts in Guatemala, AIR’s work includes teaching regenerative farming, planting trees that fertilize the soil and help prevent mudslides, helping people start new tree nurseries that positively impact the local economy, and building more efficient brick stoves that both improve air quality and decrease the trees being cut down for fuel. Over the almost 30 years since AIR’s founding, 5,000 rural families have been trained in their own communities, 5.5 million trees have been planted, and 875 stoves have been constructed. But the Guatemalan communities are not the only ones who are changed. Hallum describes the story of how she volunteered to lead a student trip to Guatemala on whim, then returned with the inspiration to found AIR: “God rescued me in Guatemala, and I found his purpose for my life.”

As Robert Alter, a scholar of the Hebrew scriptures, observes, “God’s awesome powers of transformation work in both directions: He can turn desolation into lush fecundity… and he can also turn fruitful places into desert.” As we ponder how we are called to care for creation in our own context, consider how resurrection is revealed in these stories of repairing and renewing creation.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Is there an area of your life that was once verdant and fruitful that now feels more like a wasteland? What is one thing could you possibly change that would breathe life and health back into this part of your life?

Daily Challenge

If you’re interested in learning more of the Church Forests of Ethiopia, or watching the short film, you can do so here: https://emergencemagazine.org/story/the-church-forests-of-ethiopia/

If you want to read more of AIR’s continuing work, you can find out more here: https://www.airguatemala.org/about.php.

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.