Jesus the Lighthouse: Our "Candle on the Water" - September 30

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4, 20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144; Hosea 4:11-19; Acts 21:15-26; Luke 5:27-39

Jesus became sought after as a healer and teacher, and yet in today’s passage from Luke, he broke bread with social pariahs – tax collectors. Tax collectors and their contemporaries were known to take advantage of the poor and did the bidding of the Roman imperial establishment. Complicated, right? The scholars of Jewish law, who took great offense at the actions of tax collectors like Levi, questioned Jesus: Why are you dining with those sinners (who break ancient Jewish law by collecting interest and overcharging our people)? Jesus answered like this: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners to repentance.” (5:31-32) The Son of Man loves sinners, as he sees potential for each one to turn their life around and steer in the direction of God’s law, love, and peace.

As Jesus leaned in to healing what ailed and endangered the people of Israel in the Ancient Near East, I am reminded of the image of a lighthouse upon the shoreline of Maine. My childhood friend Brooke married outside of Portland, Maine about 15 years ago. It was late summer and an absolutely lovely setting to spend a few days. While there, we stopped at the oldest lighthouse in the state, built in the late 1700s. Lighthouses don’t pepper the pristine shores of our own Emerald Coast in the Gulf of Mexico, for they are not for show, but for function. When illuminated, lighthouses signal watercraft to look out and turn around…to move away from the light.

The coastline – like sin – is dangerous. The tides push ships toward the rocky crags hiding beneath the surface, and in times of storms and darkness, it is a struggle to stay centered upon the path of safety. It’s a tender balance to navigate, finding just the right distance between the assurance of land and the unpredictability of big water. And so, it is the lighthouse that has historically helped sailors veer away from danger. The towering light illumines their path and points to peril. Crews watch for the light, and then move away from it.

Jesus, as the light of the world, points us toward hope (and away from imminent danger). That is why Jesus drew near to Levi, the tax collectors, and other sinners. He was pointing them toward the Way. When we answer the call, sometimes that means doing what Levi did: drop everything and follow Jesus. Following Jesus can look like other ways of changing course in our lives, too. Maybe in 2020, Jesus the Good Shepherd (and illuminated lighthouse) is guiding us toward saying yes to spending time with a family member who is exhausting. Perhaps it is pursuing a new line of work, or a job in another area of town. Or, going to therapy to address a problem that is not resolving on its own.

Whatever repentance Jesus is calling you to steer toward, I invite you to take heart. Breathe in deeply. Breathe out. Know that you are not alone, and you are God’s dearly beloved. Jesus loves you, a sinner. Jesus sees potential in you, to turn your life around and steer in the direction of God’s love and peace. I am praying for you along this journey. Please pray for me as well.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Who has been a lighthouse in your life, guiding you to turn away from sin and danger? What sins and stumbling blocks along the shoreline are diminishing the fullness of God’s joy for you today? How might you change course?

Daily Challenge

Big changes are like big waves: overwhelming. Focus on one little change today that draws you closer to God. For example, if you journal, spend one more minute reflecting on God’s revelation in your life. Or, when you pray, spend one more minute holding space for the Holy Spirit to move and empower you. Or perhaps, make one extra phone call to someone you know needs to see the light of Christ.  

We have seen strange things today – September 29

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 97, 99, [100]; PM Psalm 94, [95]; Hosea 4:1-10; Acts 21:1-14; Luke 5:12-26

Faith healers mystify me. As a teen, scanning for something to watch on TV, I would linger on the Christian channel TBN and watch the ministers talking to the camera. Jan Crouch, the woman with the big pinkish, greyish wigs, would weep as she talked about her love for Jesus. Benny Hinn would lay hands on people upon a stage of a crowded auditorium and those seeking healing would fall backwards, overcome in the moment. If viewers at home wanted their own healings to happen, or if they wanted to give so that God’s blessings would become more fruitful in their own lives, we could call the toll-free number scrolling across the bottom of the page. I wondered a couple of times what would happen if I called to ask for prayer, and what I would pray for. My mom would walk into the room and ask, “Why are you watching that stuff?” I would shrug and change the channel, but sometimes I would go back, just to keep watching how these interactions of charismatic Christians seeking healing would unfold. The people featured were so visibly moved by their worship experiences, and it was drastically different from my upbringing in the Episcopal church.

This morning, we read of Jesus healing those seeking restoration. Word of Jesus’ power spreads widely, for there were many ailments plaguing people. A paralyzed man is lowered through the roof, in order to present him for healing in front of Jesus. The scene unfurls here in a way that diverges from my recollection of TV evangelism. First, Jesus sees the faith of those helping the man. They truly believe that bringing this incapacitated man to see the healer is necessary, regardless of crowd or hurdle. Then, because of their faith, Jesus addresses the one upon the cot: “Friend, your sins are forgiven you.” The experts of the law of Moses (scribes and Pharisees) in the gathering begin muttering that Jesus – there to heal with the power of the Lord – says this blasphemous statement, claiming God’s power of forgiveness for his own. (As a technical note, what Jesus says is not blasphemy. Blaspheming God’s name means cursing God’s name (Leviticus 24:15). Understanding of blasphemy expanded to include speaking sacrilegiously about God.)

Jesus names the tension at hand, asking those who question, “Which is easier: forgiving sins or healing someone who cannot walk?” The healer and rabbi then turns to the paralyzed man, commanding him to stand up, take his cot, and go home. And that is what he does – praising God the whole way. The crowd goes wild with their own shouts of joy for God’s power made manifest in this space. The scene closes with bystanders saying, “We have seen strange things today.”

Reflecting on this story, I find myself wondering, “Wait – what was the man seeking? What type of healing did he need? He didn’t talk about being addled by sin. Wasn’t his body unable to move?” People of various faiths – from ancient times and into present day – have attributed aspects of physical illness as side effects of sin or wrongdoing. I have felt nauseous and a deep pang in my gut when I know I have done something wrong, or overwhelmed with a headache when stress is bearing heavily upon me. Let me be clear: this is not an assertion that every physical ailment is directly tied to sin.

This story holds up for me today that sometimes those sins which weigh us down spiritually take a toll on the health of our bodies. I don’t know what burdens weigh upon you right now. What I do know is that Jesus is waiting for you. So, go to Jesus for healing, forgiveness, and hope. Cast all of your cares upon his loving arms. And if you cannot get there yourself, keep some good friends around you to help you along the way.  

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you heard of or witnessed a miracle? How do sins and stressors weigh you down, and would it really take a miracle to bring you relief?

Daily Challenge

Spend some time reflecting on what sins are heavy upon your heart. Pray with specific intention the Confession, and ask that God forgive you – and then work to truly let that burden go. Need more help with this? Contact one of your priests for support or guidance.

A bit of a fixer-upper - September 28

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52; Hosea 2:14-23; Acts 20:17-38; Luke 5:1-11

There was one holiday weekend when the kitchen sink malfunctioned and, instead of flowing down the drain, water poured out of the side of the house and onto the driveway. According to the plumber, Sam and I had two options: pull out the kitchen cabinetry to access the pipes or take off a portion of the vinyl siding so that the plumber could fix the faulty drain system from the outside.

While I longed for a renovated kitchen, that improvement (and inconvenience) was not in the budget. The plumbing was a relatively quick fix but addressing the exterior of the house was a different story. In its earlier days, wood siding surely added to the 1925 bungalow’s charm. If we took off one part of the vinyl siding, would we have to take it all off? To remove the vinyl meant revealing what lay beneath it, dealing with whatever we found, and investing time and resources to restore the exterior of our house.

I felt terrified. Sam stood there, waiting. Okay, yes! We agreed to take off the vinyl, and started prying. Beneath the grey sturdy plastic sheets were some horrified roaches and well-preserved wood siding in surprisingly good condition! Taking the plunge into home restoration became a many-month endeavor. Sam did the work himself, replacing boards, priming and painting our house. At its conclusion, we felt hope and satisfaction as we admired the restoration!

There is another type of restoration in Hosea 2 today, requiring more than lumber and paint. Israel had attributed the bounty of her crops to the influence and favor of Baal, one of the Canaanite gods. Israel was unfaithful to the Lord. We read of that infidelity and punishment, cast in the light of a metaphorical marriage between a strong male (God) and the promiscuous female (Israel). Our excerpt omits the references to whoring, nakedness, and punishment; we hear what follows the anger: “I will now allure her…and speak tenderly to her.” There is restoration of joy and peace. There is hopefulness of a deep relationship rekindled between Israel and God, with closeness and covenant, leaving behind Baals and betrayal. What does that restoration look like? Relying on the Lord, moving away from violence, and living in righteousness and justice, steadfast love and mercy (v. 18-19). In this restoration of relationship, blessing is also promised: the Lord will send gifts from the earth of grain, wine, and oil.

As I reflect on Hosea, I wonder how this time of physical separation has been a season of restoration…and not in an easy sense of the word. To restore, we must take inventory of where we are before moving forward. We have been staring at walls, reminded of our loneliness, fear, and division. We have been mourning what we have lost or let go. We have been facing the hard concerns of depression and addiction, more apparent in prolonged stress. As in Hosea, we’ve been in the Valley of Achor (Trouble), and God promises to make it a door of hope. The promise is still there. God will have pity on us, even when we feel we are beyond compassion. God will reclaim us in our indignance, saying, “You are my people,” and we will say joyously, “You are my God”.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What troubles bring you concern today, around you and inside yourself? What signs of hope do you see?

Daily Challenge

What in your life needs restoration? Name one flaw to take to God in prayer and write it down. Spend five minutes in silence. Repeat the phrase “You are my God” when you find your mind wandering. Listen for God to reveal truth, hope, and next steps in faithful living.

Stuck in a Moment - September 26

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 87, 90; PM Psalm 136; Hosea 1:1-2:1; Acts 20:1-16; Luke 4:38-44

Today’s Reflection

“So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.” –Psalm 90:12

Over the years, I recall my mother telling me on at least several occasions, “Don’t wish your life away.” I take this piece of wisdom to be meant to remind me to live in the present, to appreciate what I have and what I am now, rather than always looking to the next big moment, whatever that may be.

For us human beings, it can be hard to live in the present. One of the attributes of God that I find myself most fascinated with and most in need of embracing more fully in my own life is that divine sense of time. God has always been, always is, and always will be. God’s transcending of time is reflected in the divine name, I AM. Those two short words that make of God’s name, I AM, are very comforting. No matter what is going on in my life or your life or in the world beyond ourselves, it’s very grounding to remember: God is.

And as much as we might be tempted to debate the finer points about who God is and what God’s role has been in history and is in the present and future, when it comes down to it, what can re-center us in that holy relationship between the divine and the human is the realization that God was, is, and will always be.

Psalm 90 is woven together with the threads of the language of time. We read of how God has existed before all creation, “Before the mountains were brought forth, or the land and the earth were born, from age to age you are God” (v. 2). What follows are a several very mystical sounding verses that remind us humans that God’s understanding of time exists on a plane which we cannot fully understand, a divine scope that makes our human lives seem like just a moment: “For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past and like a watch in the night. You sweep us away like a dream; we fade away suddenly like the grass. In the morning it is green and flourishes; in the evening it is dried up and withered” (vv. 4-7).

As the psalmist continues to ruminate about how our human sense of time intersects with the divine sense of time, he comes to this moment of clarity: “The span of our life is seventy years, perhaps in strength even eighty; yet the sum of them is but labor and sorrow, for they pass away quickly and we are gone” (v. 10). In other words, we have these 70 or 80 years—maybe more, maybe less—to live out the purposes that God has given each one of us from before we were born. On one level, you can look at these years as “but labor and sorrow.” If you look back on your life—or if you look forward on it, for that matter—with an eye toward all the hours spent in work or hardship, then that is the meaning you will attach to your life. As the Irish band U2 philosophizes in their 2001 song, “Stuck in a Moment You Can’t Get Out Of”:

You’ve got to get yourself together
You’ve got stuck in a moment and now you can’t get out of it
Don’t say that later will be better now
You’re stuck in a moment and you can’t get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won’t last
And if your way should falter
Along the stony pass
It’s just a moment
This time will pass

U2 wrote this song as they struggled with grief at the passing of their fellow musician Michael Hutchence (of the band INXS), who had died by suicide. Bono reflects that he wrote the song to articulate what he wished he had said to his friend, Michael, when he was stuck in a moment that he didn’t think he could get out of. Sometimes our limited human understanding of time, combined with particularly harsh circumstances, can make a person lose their sense of time and the will to keep living. U2 is reminding us in this song, as the psalmist does in Psalm 90, that “it’s just a moment—this time will pass.”

But if we get back to the divine understanding of time, and God’s point of view on our human lifespans, then it is possible to have a more hopeful perspective on the meaning of all our minutes, hours, days, and years. As the psalmist prays, “teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts to wisdom” (v. 12).

From that point on in Psalm 90, the psalmist’s perspective changes toward one more focused on living in and being satisfied with each new day that God has given us: “Satisfy us by your loving-kindness in the morning; so shall we rejoice and be glad all the days of our life” (v. 15). Each day God’s mercies are new. As we start each new day, no matter what troubles we may have encountered in days past, in each new day we can find hopefulness in this: that God loves us, God made us, and our hope in God transcends all else that was, is, or will be.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When you get stuck in a moment, what helps you to get unstuck and regain perspective that this, too, shall pass?

Daily Challenge

Attempt to make it one hour, or one morning, or even a whole day without checking to see what time it is. This may mean you have to put away any devices on which you would be tempted to check the time. How does living an hour, a morning, or a day without references to man-made measures of time change your experience of living in the now?

There Your Heart Will Be Also - September 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Esther 8:1-8,15-17; Acts 19:21-41; Luke 4:31-37 

Today’s Reflection

A year ago, I heard about a book whose premise intrigued me. The premise is that people in our contemporary U.S. culture, though they are worshipping in church much less, are in fact just as religious as ever—they’re just religious about secular pursuits. Instead of practicing faith by being part of a church community, many people are putting their faith in healthy eating, or in exercise regimes, or in devotion to a political candidate or party, or to being super-attentive parents, or just to being frenetically busy, successful people. The book is called Seculosity and it’s by David Zahl, director of Mockingbird Ministries and an Episcopal lay preacher in Charlottesville, Virginia. (I was all set to lead a book discussion about it during Lent 2020 but then—well, 2020 happened, we entered a time of quarantine, and we never made it past the first chapter of the book. Maybe we’ll try it again in 2021!)

In his book, Zahl argues that chief among the things people get drawn into worshipping (instead of God) is being busy—he calls this the seculosity of busy-ness. His point is not new, but rather a new version of an old idea—along the lines of Max Weber’s thesis about the Protestant ethic and the spirit of capitalism. Another term for this devotion to being busy is “performancism,” which Zahl explains as “the assumption, usually unspoken, that there is no distinction between what we do and who we are. … What makes you lovable, indeed what makes your life worth living, is your performance at X, Y, or Z. Performancism holds that if you are not doing enough, or doing enough well, [then] you are not enough” (Zahl 6).

Dave Zahl offers several very compelling examples of what this performancism looks like, this feeling that our sense of self-worth comes from being busy and getting stuff done—and the material wealth or status we may accrue as a result. As Zahl reflects, “For an increasing amount of the population, … to be alive in the twenty-first century is to wonder privately how much longer you can keep feeding the beast before you keel over. The very phrase feed the beast could not be more apt. It conjures the image of a ravenously hungry creature whose appetite demands satiation, lest it carve out its pound of flesh. It brings to mind a prowling monster that can be momentarily appeased but never fully satisfied. A life of feeding the beast recasts our activities, and the rewards they bring, as momentary offerings on the anxious altar of Enough” (6).

I see some things in common between how Zahl describes our contemporary U.S. context in Seculosity with how Luke describes Ephesus in Acts 19: 21-41. It’s a chaotic scene, a cultural clash caused by conflicting values. “No little disturbance broke out” because Paul had come on the scene in Ephesus and he began raising questions about what Ephesians were worshipping, which was the goddess Artemis and idols of her. Now, it was common for Paul to come into a city and question the cultural status quo. But in Ephesus at that time, it made a certain silversmith named Demetrius really angry, because he saw how Paul was successful in getting so many people to reconsider what or who they should be worshipping.

Demetrius was angry because when people started worshipping idols less and worshipping Jesus more, his business as a silversmith who made Artemis idols was suffering. Demetrius successfully convinced thousands of people to become enraged because he tapped into their fear of both economic and cultural change, as he persuaded them: “Men, you know we get our wealth from this business [of making idols]. … And there is danger that this trade of ours may come into disrepute but also that the temple of the great goddess Artemis will be scorned” (Acts 19: 25, 27). Demetrius found someone to blame for his financial problems, and he was ready to spark others into a riot—even if they didn’t all quite know what it was they were supposed to be up-in-arms about: “The city was filled with the confusion… Meanwhile, some were shouting one thing, some another; for the assembly was in confusion, and most of them did not know why they had come together” (Acts 19: 29, 32).

As we look around at the state of things in the United States and the world today, and at our own lives, it’s interesting to consider how we spend our time and our money, and to what we devote our energy and our attention. As we hear Jesus tell us in his Sermon on the Mount, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21).

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Looking at how you spend your time, money, and energy, what competes with God for your devotion?

Daily Challenge

Consider a tangible way that you can change how you spend your time, money, and energy this week, this month, or in the year to come that better reflects what you value and who you worship.

When Mercy and Truth Meet Together - September 24

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [83] or 146, 147; PM Psalm 85, 86; Esther 7:1-10; Acts 19:11-20; Luke 4:14-30

Today’s Reflection   

Over the past month or two, I have been gradually reading Jon Meacham’s latest book, His Truth is Marching On: John Lewis and the Power of Hope. Lewis’ death this summer made me curious to know more of his life, especially the stories of how he, as a very young man, exhibited such courage as he stood up for what he believed was right.

Reading Psalms 85 and 86 appointed for this noonday, brings to mind for me Lewis and the people he worked side by side with, who shared a commitment to using nonviolent means to achieve civil rights for all. As had activists before them, like Rosa Parks, they and other budding civil rights activists traveled to the Highlander Folk School—located on a small farm near Monteagle, Tennessee—to learn more of the nonviolent path from people like Septima Clark, the school’s director of workshops.  

At Highlander, they didn’t just learn about nonviolent activism, but they also experienced a vision of what an integrated society could be like: “Blacks and whites ate together, swam together, square-danced together. The setting was simple and idyllic, with white frame buildings set in a clearing bordered by woods.” As Parks recalled, “At Highlander, I found out for the first time in my adult life that this could be a unified society, that there was such a thing as people of different races and backgrounds meeting together in workshops, and living together in peace and harmony…. It was a place I was reluctant to leave. I gained there the strength to persevere in my work for freedom” (Meacham 65).

Lewis and his coworkers for civil rights found at Highlander a place where they could listen to God and one another, where they could experience a foretaste of what peaceful coexistence could be like. It was a place where, with the psalmist, they could “listen to what the Lord God is saying, for he is speaking peace to his faithful people and to those who turn their hearts to him” (Ps. 85:8). At Highlander, they could see a clear picture of what it looks like when, “Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other. Truth shall spring up from the earth, and righteousness shall look down from heaven” (Ps. 85:10-11). Their experiences there gave them a strong core of conviction, and a picture of what they were working toward, when they returned to facing the harsh realities of violent resistance to their nonviolent protests.

When Lewis and his fellow activists-in-training returned home to Nashville, their mentor James Lawson helped turn the Gandhian nonviolent principles they had soaked in at Highlander into practical techniques for nonviolent protest. Lewis remembers how Lawson, “showed us how to curl our bodies so that our internal organs would escape direct blows. … It was not enough, he would say, simply to endure a beating, It was not enough to resist the urge to strike back at an assailant. ‘That urge can’t be there,’ he would tell us. ‘You have to do more that just not hit back. You have to have no desire to hit back. You have to love that person who is hitting you’” (Meacham 66).

As he faced angry mobs, blows to the head, and multiple arrests, John Lewis held onto the kind of faith we hear expressed in Psalm 86 today: “Teach me your way, O Lord, and I will walk in your truth; knit my heart to you that I may fear your Name. … The arrogant rise up against me, O God, and a band of violent men seeks my life; they have not set you before their eyes. But you, O Lord, are gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger, and full of kindness and truth. … Show me a sign of your favor, so that those who hate me may see it and be ashamed; because you, O Lord, have helped me and comforted me.”

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

As you look around at all that is happening in our world today, can you imagine a way to bring mercy and truth, righteousness and peace together in the way that you respond to these difficult realities? What might it look like for mercy and truth to meet together, for righteousness and peace to kiss one another, in your own circles of influence?

Daily Challenge

Commit to reading more of someone like John Lewis, Diane Nash, James Lawson, or Septima Clark today, so that you can learn more of what it looks like to embody the spirit of Psalms 85 and 86, even in the most intense conflicts and conditions.

Sweeter than Honey - September 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Esther 6:1-14 ;  Acts 19:1-10; Luke 4:1-13

Today’s Reflection

“How sweet are your words to my taste! They are sweeter than honey to my mouth.”

—Psalm 119: 103

Throughout August and September, we have enjoyed having a couple of hummingbirds buzzing around our backyard deck. You may have even seen them flying around behind me if you’ve been online when I have livestreamed Morning Prayer or Noonday Prayer from outdoors.

The hummingbirds are drawn to our deck because of the flowers we have had there at the end of the summer. A blue plumbago we brought with us from Texas drew their attention first. And then, once we knew the hummingbirds were stopping by, we bought a couple more plants whose blooms we knew they would like—salvia and porter weed plants with bright red, tubular blooms perfect for those thin, straw-like hummingbird beaks. Hummingbirds are drawn to these blooms’ sweet nectar, giving them the energy they require to keep buzzing around like tiny, silent helicopters.

In two of the Psalms appointed for today, we hear the psalmist using the imagery of honey to talk about how God provides for those he loves. In the portion of Psalm 119 appointed for this morning (vss. 97-120), we read of how much the psalmist loves the law of the Lord: “all the day long it is in my mind” (vs. 97). The psalmist is drawn to God’s words—for the same reason the hummingbird and the honeybee are drawn to the flowers’ nectar. God’s words give sustenance and sweetness as they provide what we and the psalmist need most to keep hovering through each day: wisdom, understanding, and joy (vss. 98-111).

And then, in Psalm 81 appointed for us to read together this afternoon, the psalmist is recounting moments from the story of the people of Israel, especially those moments when God was present with them and provided for them—moments when they had been starting to wonder whether God was still there with them: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt and said, ‘Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.’ And yet my people did not hear my voice, and Israel would not obey me. So I gave them over to the stubbornness of their hearts, to follow their own devices” (vss. 10-12). God was always there, offering to provide for them, to fill them up with what was needed for the journey, but his people still needed to wander for a while before they would wander back to him. At the end of the psalm, we find God is still waiting, still standing by to sustain them, and not just with the basics, but with what was finest and sweetest: “Israel would I feed with the finest wheat and satisfy him with honey from the rock” (vs. 16).

A vivid memory I have of visiting Saint Stephen’s for the first time this summer, when I was discerning whether I was being called here, is tramping through the white clover to go visit the beehives in Billy’s Lot across the street. I love that we embrace the way of the bees here at Saint Stephen’s, because when we ponder the ways of hummingbirds and honeybees, we can learn a few things about our own journey with God and how we can be sustained by God’s lifegiving sweetness.

These creatures love nectar and they know that they are sustained by it—so they are constantly seeking it out. It is rare that you spot a honeybee that is not either pollinating a flower or buzzing around the hive. What I learn from this, and what I suspect the psalmist knew, is that God’s wisdom, understanding, and joy are there for us—to give us the sweetness and energy that we need to propel us through this life. But first we have to search for it—and then be willing to carry it back and share it with the others who, when we work together with them, will create something sweet that will feed and sustain us all.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

In what ways do you experience God’s sweetness sustaining you in your daily life? How do these moments of sweetness sustain you later, when you are out further afield from the hive?

Daily Challenge

Think of a tangible, specific way you can share some of the sweetness God has given to sustain you with someone in your life this week.

They Took Him Aside and Explained the Way of God - September 22

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 78:1-39; PM Psalm 78:40-72; Esther 5:1-14; Acts 18:12-28; Luke 3:15-22

Today’s Reflection

­Many accounts of Paul’s mission and ministry as he traveled around the Mediterranean and Near East depict him teaching in synagogues or defending himself in the public forum. But even more important to Paul’s mission was the way he invested time in people and, in turn, built ongoing relationships that nurtured them in their faith.

As we read in Acts 18, when the consul Gallio dismissed Paul’s case, Paul didn’t just set off for the next place. Instead, he stayed “for a considerable time,” which scholars tell us was about 18 months. While he said his farewells to all the believers there, two of the believers in whom he had invested his time and care in there, Priscilla and Aquila, decided to travel on with Paul and help him spread the Gospel elsewhere. Once they reached Ephesus, Paul visited the local synagogue to do some teaching amongst those gathered there. But when they asked him to stay, he turned them down, saying that “I will return to you, if God wills,” and he continued on toward Antioch, Galatia, and Phrygia, “strengthening all the disciples.”

But Paul did not leave the believers in Ephesus without support. Priscilla and Aquila stayed on to nurture the Ephesian believers in their shared faith. The time Paul had invested in developing Priscilla and Aquila meant that they were now equipped to encourage others in their faith. And that is exactly what we find them doing in Acts 18: 24-28.

Ephesus, as a crossroads of trade in the ancient world, attracted people from all around the Mediterranean region. Another person who made his way to Ephesus was Apollos, who hailed from Alexandria, Egypt, a major center of learning in the ancient world. Luke describes Apollos as “an eloquent man, well-versed in the Scriptures” who “had been instructed in the Way of the Lord.” Apollos “spoke with burning enthusiasm and taught accurately the things concerning Jesus.”

However, we also learn that, while Apollos was a well-educated man and a gifted orator, his formation was not complete, as he “knew only the baptism of John.” In other words, Apollos’ heart was in the right place and he had learned some important things, but there was still room for growth as Apollos continued to be formed as a believer.

Enter Priscilla and Aquila. As they settled into Ephesus and getting acquainted with the community of believers there, they heard this enthusiastic new believer, Apollos, speaking with great boldness and passion about his faith. And what they recognized is that Apollos needed to grow in his knowledge, so that what he shared with others was not just passionate teaching, but also correct doctrine. Apollos knew some of the story, but Priscilla and Aquila, as believers a bit further along in their learning, saw that Apollos still needed to hear the rest of the story.

But instead of calling Apollos out in public, sparking some kind of contentious public debate about the baptism of John versus the baptism of Jesus, Priscilla and Aquila made a more enlightened move: “they took him aside and explained the Way of God to him more accurately.” And then later, when Apollos felt ready to travel on to Achaia, in Corinth, his fellow believers in Ephesus “encouraged him and wrote to the disciples to welcome him.”

Paul invested his time in building relationships with and teaching the believers in Corinth, among them Priscilla and Aquila—who in turn invested time in building relationships with and teaching believers in Ephesus, including Apollos. And once Apollos was nurtured along to a more mature point in his faith, he continued the cycle—by returning to Achaia, where he, in turn, “greatly helped those who through grace had become believers… showing by the scriptures that the Messiah is Jesus.”

Each time a follower of the Way of God takes time to invest time in another pilgrim on the way, the faith of both will be strengthened. Faith is not something we are meant to experience by ourselves. Faith is something we are meant to experience together, helping to nurture one another as we learn together. Taking someone aside and investing that extra time and care goes a long way toward encouraging them to have a faith that continues to grow—and one that they, too, will want to share with someone else.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Can you recall a time when someone took you aside to check on you or help you learn something new? How did it feel to have someone notice you and take the time to care for you in that moment?

Daily Challenge

Next time you are in a discussion—whether in-person or online—and hear someone saying things you believe are incorrect or unhelpful to others, pause. After the pause, then find a way to connect with the person away from the main discussion forum so that you can have a one-on-one conversation about the points on which you differ.

For Such a Time as This - September 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Esther 4:4-17; Acts 18:1-11; Luke (1:1-4),3:1-14

Today’s Reflection

I was so excited to find Esther among the scriptures I get to reflect on and write about this week. Back when I used to read a children’s Bible to my daughter at bedtime—and we read through it so many times it began to fall apart—the story she always loved best and would ask me to read again and again was the story of Esther. For little girls, few stories in the Bible include women in such exciting, superhero-like circumstances as does the story of Esther. Because Esther is a young woman, it is easier for some little girls—and grownup women, too—to picture themselves in the story, to imagine what they would do if they were in Esther’s shoes.

Esther is, of course, one of the few instances of a woman in the Bible whose character is more fully developed over the course of a narrative arc. And not only that, but she is depicted as exhibiting great courage, creativity, and grace under pressure. Here is a young woman of the Jewish faith who ended up in the royal court of a Persian king, Ahasuerus (also known as Xerxes I). When the king had a falling out with his queen and decided to make Esther the new queen, she is propelled unexpectedly into a position of great influence.

At first, when Esther was in the king’s court, she had tried to blend in, even taking a second name that would hide her Jewish identity. But when her guardian-kinsman Mordecai learns that the king’s crony Haman is plotting to kill all the Jews in the vicinity, Mordecai challenges Esther to rise to the occasion: “Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for such a time as this” (Esther 4:14).

Esther plotted with Mordecai, using her position of influence to save their people. In that moment of truth, “when the king held out the golden scepter to Esther, Esther rose and stood before the king. And she said, ‘If it please the king… let an order be written to revoke the letters written by Haman… which he wrote to destroy the Jews. … For how can I bear to see the destruction of my kindred?’” (Esther 8: 4-6).

So, too, do we find ourselves and our fellow human beings living under equally dramatic and perilous conditions today. Lives are at risk. Principles are on the line. But especially in this time of global pandemic, climate crises, political turmoil, and societal unrest, God still wants to make his love manifest in and through you and me.

Recently, I heard myself saying (in a conversation about moving and accepting a new ministry call amidst a pandemic), “Well, I wasn’t going to let a pandemic stop me from doing what God wants me to do.” And after I said it and I heard those words hanging in the air, I immediately thought, “Wow, that sounds kind of bold. Maybe too bold.”

As a person who values humility, the thought of coming across too strong struck me as problematic, and so I started to question having said this. But, as I reflected on it, well after the conversation ended, I decided that, in fact, it had not been too bold because I was articulating a good kind of boldness: Boldness in the sense of stepping out in faith, believing that God has opened a path for me—and us—to do something new, even in this time of mask-wearing, physical distancing, and quarantine. A bold belief that God has called and prepared me—and you—to bear God’s light and love in just such a time as this.

God is still working, even when the circumstances seem—at least on the surface—least likely for good things to happen. Over the years, I have found that it is in these difficult times when God’s plans can surprise us most with their boldness. With C.S. Lewis, we, too, may find ourselves “surprised by joy.”

These are tough times. You may find yourself facing difficult choices, moments of decision with potentially life-changing consequences—for you, and perhaps also for the lives of others. But like Esther, God has given you all that you need to live into this moment in history.

And who knows? Perhaps you, too, have been prepared by God to do something bold in a time such as this.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Reflect on a struggle or challenging circumstance you have lived through in the past (maybe the distant past, or maybe recently). What did you learn about yourself by making it through that struggle or challenge? What did you learn about the people in your life? What did you learn about God?

Daily Challenge

Looking around at the challenging circumstances in which we are now living, think of one specific way you can use the gifts God has given you to improve the life of another person (or a group of people) in “such a time as this.”

Christ the Apple Tree - September 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 75, 76; PM Psalm 23, 27; Esther 2:5-8,15-23 or Judith 5:1-21; Acts 17:16-34; John 12:44-50

This coming Sunday, two of our choir members will sing a beautiful piece called Christ the Apple Tree.  The text is from a poem from the late 18th century and the music is a Scottish Folk song.  I love the lyrics and here are two verses:

“I’m weary with my former toil, 
Here I will sit and rest awhile: 
Under the shadow I will be 
Of Jesus Christ the apple tree. 

This fruit doth make my soul to thrive, 
It keeps my dying faith alive; 
Which makes my soul in haste to be 
With Jesus Christ the apple tree.”

The author sees the Incarnation as a part of creation.  This is not necessarily a new idea but has been lost for much of Christianity.  We want to make the sacred, simply Jesus, but if God has created everything that is, our faith should compel us to see the sacred in everything.  I read recently that St. Bonaventure (1221-1274) taught that to learn to love God, we begin at the easiest and simplest place and move up.  Richard Rohr suggests a literal practice of this by claiming “Don’t start by trying to love God, or even people; love rocks and elements first, move to trees, then animals, and then humans.  Angels will soon seem like a real possibility, and God is then just a short leap away.”[1]  So there is something beautiful to me about seeing Christ in the Apple Tree and how our faith can be kept alive by the rest and fruit it provides.

In the 17th chapter of Acts, Paul is standing just below the large hill in Athens, Greece, where several statutes of different gods reside.  He gives his famous sermon from Mars Hill where he reminds the people how religious they are and then he points to an altar in the city which is to the unknown God and casts a vision to the Greek people to see in their lives how the God who created the universe is already worshiped in their midst.  He gives language and credence to what is already there and expands the Greek’s understanding of God.  Evangelism 101.

We live in a very religious world, but I wonder sometimes if many who consider themselves ultra-religious lack imagination.  Does Paul invite us to go deeper and look beyond what has been named?  How can we see what many others have missed, and name it as something much more?  Maybe Jesus Christ the apple tree.   How can we be people who proclaim God’s infinite blessing and embeddedness in what others have cast away?

“I’m weary with my former toil, Here I will sit and rest awhile: Under the shadow I will be 
Of Jesus Christ the apple tree.”  Finding rest, finding renewal, finding healing and hope, may be as simple as learning to see God Incarnate all around.  May we follow the way of Paul and put a name to what we see.

-       John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: How do you imagine the Incarnation?  Is it easy to imagine God in another person?  What about an inanimate object?  Why?

Daily Challenge:  Find a quiet place to sit outside for a few minutes. Calm your mind and practice Rohr’s reflection.  Start by considering God in the easiest and simplest and in the words of St. Bonaventure, “move up.”

[1] Rohr, Richard. UNIVERSAL CHRIST: How a Forgotten Reality Can Change Everything We See, Hope for, and Believe. Convergent, 2019, page 57.

Naming the Grief - September 18

Today’s Reflection: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Esther 1:1-4,10-19 or Judith 4:1-15; Acts 17:1-15; John 12:36b-43

“While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of the light.”

 For our Tuesday staff meeting, our team read and discussed an article on grief from the Harvard Business Review.  The article was titled That Discomfort You’re Feeling is Grief which suggests that much of what we feel right now is grief and that it is emotionally helpful to name it.  The article is an interview with David Kessler who co-wrote with Elisabeth Kübler-Ross On Grief and Grieving: Finding the Meaning of Grief through the Five Stages of Loss.  This book is like the Holy Grail on grief.  He has recently written a book to claim that there is a sixth stage: “finding meaning,” which is what we often have been trying to do through theological reflection and the daily scripture in these reflections. 

Kessler names that “one particularly troubling aspect of the pandemic is the open-endedness of it.”  I find this to be especially true as I am consistently asking when and how all of this will end.  I want to make plans for Easter and Christmas and all the wonderful services and festivities of church.  Kessler claims that just as in naming grief, naming the liminal state of it also helps. This is survivable and it will pass.  “This is a time to overprotect but not overreact.”

Which is why he believes we will find meaning in it.  The Five Stages of Loss ended with acceptance, but Kessler believes that meaning is the ultimate response.  He names that “even now people are realizing they can connect through technology.  They are not as remote as they thought.  They are realizing they can use their phones for long conversations.  They’re appreciating walks.”  I am seeing people reconnect with family, stop being addicted to work, spending more time building something meaningful, and engaging in their faith in profound new ways.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus is trying to prepare his disciples for when he is no longer with them.  He is helping them get ready to handle the grief they will experience.  This passage happens just before the last supper.  And Jesus says, “While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of the light.” This reoccurring theme emerges once again that part of life is walking in the darkness, but finding light and meaning which we often do with the help of God, is the only hopeful way forward.

Kessler’s point is that we should name what we feel.  He states, “the truth is a feeling that moves through us.”  We shouldn’t ignore it, but instead, allow it to empower us.  How do we find the light, believe in the light, and be children of the light? I wonder part of this is learning to find meaning as the result of the grief that we experience.  But first, we have to name it. 

-John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Do you agree with the idea that we are all experiencing grief right now?  What other emotions are you experiencing?

Daily Challenge:  Try naming your grief, specifically what makes you sad.  If it is helpful try vocalizing this with a friend or loved on.

Embrace the Moment for what it is - September 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [70], 71; PM Psalm 74; Job 28:1-28; Acts 16:25-40; John 12:27-36a

I spend a lot of time helping people prepare for marriage.  Planning for a wedding is certainly a stressful time in many people’s lives and that was before the pandemic.  We use the time of stress to talk about life and expectations and setting new norms.  It can be a wonderful chance to reestablish norms and relationships with family members in a way that the couple would like and not the way it has always been.  I hear often, “Oh things will be so much better when we can just get to the other side of this!” 

And maybe there is a smidgen of truth to that premise, but there is also something natural and seductive in looking beyond where we are. We want to see possibility and hope when we can get beyond where we are.  How many of us are waiting for this pandemic to be “over?” Or if I can just get beyond this “one” event, my life will be so much easier and better.   Which we all know is rarely the case.

Paul and Silas are in prison in the story from Acts.  They have caused a little ruckus in town in Western Asia Minor.  Men in the town had been making money of a mystic fortune teller and Paul and Silas have messed up the money-making scheme.  They are beaten and thrown in prison.  I would imagine they would be pretty eager to leave where they are and be ready to get on with their work. 

In the middle of the night, an earthquake comes, and the prison foundation is shaken.  Paul and Silas’s chains become unfastened and the doors are left wide open.  When the jailer wakes, he rushes in terrified that the prisoners have escaped.  Oddly, Paul and Silas are sitting right there.  They have not rushed to freedom but remained in the prison.  In the prison, they have a conversation with the jailer, and he and his family are baptized. 

I find it intriguing that Paul and Silas are not in a rush to escape.  I know I would have been long gone before the sun was up.  Get me out of this mess!  But Paul stays seeing an opportunity to change the life of the guard.  And then he and Silas go on their way, but first they embrace the moment for what it is.  How can we, when we want to get past a moment, learn to see opportunity in the present and not be so focused on what is next?

-       John+

 Questions for Self-Reflection:  Have you had times in your life you were eager to get through?  What parts of those times do you now miss?  What did you learn from those moments?

 Daily Challenge:  Try to figure out who is the jailer to you in this story.

A Game of Telephone - September 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Job 42:1-17; Acts 16:16-24; John 12:20-26

Listen to John: 20:21-23 - They came to Philip, Philip went to Andrew, Andrew and Philip went to Jesus and Jesus gave them an answer. It almost sounds like a game a telephone. You know that game where you tell someone something ridiculous, then they tell the next person until it goes around a circle and at the end, the last person repeats the phrase and usually, something has been lost in translation. A random trivia fact: the longest game of telephone according to the Guinness Book of World Records was played in New Zealand in March of 2017 by 1,792 people. The record was attempted to celebrate Hearing Awareness Week in New Zealand. With nearly 1800 people, I guess the record won’t be broken until after the pandemic succumbs.  

It also sounds like a game of telephone because what Jesus answers back with seems ridiculous. You must lose your life to gain it? What dies bears fruit? Those who hate their life will keep it in eternity? Come on Jesus! What foolishness are you offering us? This makes no sense! 

Which maybe is the point. It has to be so radical to actually change our life. Jesus offers us an alternative way to live and in that, we find the true meaning of life.

There is a documentary out right now called the “The Social Dilemma” just released on Netflix. Some have actually called it a horror film. It is about the design of social media, the origins of Facebook and other platforms, and suggests the shadow side of the way we connect actually harms us. The documentary goes further in suggesting how these apps and our phones are destroying our mental health and maybe even democracy. The irony is social media was created to help us feel connected to one another and find a more meaningful life and yet what we waste so much time on has done quite the opposite. Doesn't it seem counterintuitive?

We are being forced in this time of pandemic to reimagine our lives, and what I keep wanting to know is “When will things get back to normal.”  As I read the Gospel today, I wonder just how foolish my answer really is.  Why should I want things to get back to normal when much of the life we have lived is not the life that I believe Jesus calls me into? It is a life on consumption, acquiring, and constant frustration.  It is a life of making digital connections as opposed to real and personal connections.  A better question might be what is now dying that is also giving me life.  Maybe the life we are losing will help us inherit something much greater. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What have you lost in the last six months that might be a good thing? 

Daily Challenge:  Instead of wishing for things to return to normal, make a list of three things you not resume doing when you can.  Put your list on your refrigerator or bulletin board.

You can't Handle the Truth! - September 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Job 40:1-24; Acts 15:36-16:5; John 11:55-12:8

When I worked at a Boy Scout camp many years ago, prior to the age of Wi-Fi and cell phones, we would pass the time by memorizing movie lines, and of course, burning things, but that’s for another story.  We would then turn the movie scenes into campfire or flagpole skits making sure we didn’t waste all of that creative time and energy.  One of the movies we committed large chunks to memory was the Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson blockbuster from 1992, “A Few Good Men.”

The dramatic courtroom scene takes place where Nicolson is on trial for ordering a “code red,” a hazing incident that goes awry, and a private is killed. Cruise is demanding answers from Nicolson who is on the stand. “I want the truth!” demands the young lawyer played by Cruise.

Nicolson shouts, back “You can’t handle the truth!”

He continues, “Son, we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom.” 

Nicolson’s character doesn’t think much of the young lawyer.  It’s a brilliant script.

This dialogue came to mind when thinking of the story in Acts of the growth of the church.  Paul and Timothy are traveling and spreading the Good News throughout all the lands.  They end up in Phrygia and Galatia because the Holy Spirit forbids them to speak the word in Asia (16:6).  Finally, they try to go into Bithynia, but the “Spirit of Jesus did not allow them” (16:7). I guess some people weren’t ready for the truth, or maybe they couldn’t handle it.

The Good News does make it into Asia, just a few chapters in Acts later when Paul makes his third missionary journey to Ephesus.  Paul is reminded that God’s timeline is a little bit different than his own. 

We are people who are obsessed with the truth and often through a theological lens.  It is too easy to dismiss people who disagree with us or do not share our collective truth.  As it applies to God’s truth, maybe a more hopeful way to look at disagreement is to believe that God’s truth will be understood at a later time.  Maybe the Holy Spirit is forbidding us to speak it.  Or maybe others aren’t ready to hear it.  Either way, it’s nothing new, just the Holy Spirit taking her time.  While the truth needs to be made known, how can this period of holding back help us grow in our own understanding of the truth in a way that will help us be ready when the time is to come?

-John

Questions for Self-Reflection:  When have you tried to share a point of view that you believed to be truthful and others have been resistant to listening or hearing? 

Daily Challenge:  When engaged in conversation with others, try clarifying your expectations.  Instead of trying to convince somebody, try to reframe your goals.  Know your intention.  Most of the time, the goal should not be facilitating opinion change.

Well, that didn't turn out how I wanted it to! - September 14

 Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Job 40:1-24; Acts 15:36-16:5; John 11:55-12:8

Something doesn’t seem right. Have you ever had that feeling deep down that what you are participating in isn’t exactly what you thought it was supposed to be? Maybe the group you have joined has turned into a place for gossip and spreading ill will. Or a church your friend has invited to you seems devoid of hope? Or the party full of nice people turns into something that pushes the boundaries of your comfort zone? I think we walk into what we don’t expect all the time and sometimes it is a little harder to get back out than one might think. Well, that didn’t turn out how I wanted it to!

In the Gospel reading for today, people are going to Jerusalem to prepare for Passover. There is a ritual where the Jewish people would go to the pools to purify themselves as part of the preparation for Passover and a number of other reasons that I will spare you. And it is this background that the Jewish leaders plot to have Jesus arrested. They are using the setting of this day of preparation as a backdrop and chance to illuminate their threat. I bet the people there had no idea what they were getting into!  

At a moment when Jesus would come and be cleansed, if he was to follow this practice, is the same moment that his own religious leaders would condemn him. When people are coming for cleaning, the leaders are looking to set someone up. Maybe the Jewish leaders could have expanded their understanding of compassion and forgiveness just a bit. I mean it was a practice for a chance to start over. The irony! 

If you follow this story a little longer (we will this week in the Daily office) this story leads into Palm Sunday. When people see Jesus entering the town, they put down their cloaks and sing songs of praise. They aren’t running to the Jewish leaders to say, “Hey, I found your man!” What a response to the Jewish leaders wanting to set him up – taking off what was comfortable to usher in the Christ. Maybe it’s a little bit of a stretch, but when the powers to want an arrest, another group takes off their cloaks, to welcome the person who is to be arrested. I wonder if they knew. 

And we find ourselves in situations all the time that don’t make sense and push our level of comfort to new extremes.  And we are invited to push back a little bit when something nefarious is afoot.  Maybe we are encouraged a little bit to bend the rules.  Maybe like these followers outside of Jerusalem who were headed to the baths, we too can have an opportunity to do something different.  I wonder too if we will know.

-       John+

Questions for Reflection: What are some times when we have been a part of something that you hadn’t planned for?  What did you do?  How did you respond?  What could you have done differently?

Daily Challenge:  Being able to respond differently often requires practice.  Spend 5 minutes in quiet meditation considering how to respond differently when you find yourself in an unsuspecting situation. 

Evil Ploys Lose; God Wins! - September 12

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23); Job 38:1-17; Acts 15:22-35; John 11:45-54

This summer, as COVID-19 put many things on hold, our family began having more movie nights. There was no live baseball to watch or listen to on the radio, so we pulled out “The Natural”, with Robert Redford, Robert Duvall, Glenn Close, Kim Basinger, Wilford Brimley…a knock-out cast. At first our kids only monitored the movie, as the scenes on the field held common sounds: cracks of the bat, cheers of the crowd, and players rounding bases. However, the drama in the owner’s suite above the baseball field grabbed my nine year old’s attention. She was drawn in by the use of darkness and shadows, adding tension and mystery to the nefarious plot: the New York Knights’ owner bets against his team and bribes players to lose in the final game of the season. (Spoiler alert: the evil ploy fails.)

The dynamic of shady backroom scheming also applied to part of our gospel reading from John 11 today. This piece of Holy Scripture is not generally read during Sunday worship, so it may not sound familiar. People were still reeling from Jesus’ miraculous healing of Lazarus, called out from the tomb after several days. Witnessing this action was a conversion moment for some, and a trigger for fear in others. Threatened, the Sanhedrin gathered to figure out what they would do next. Ignoring Jesus could lead to the council’s diminishing religious power, social unrest, and more intervention from Roman soldiers. Caiaphas proposed a solution to the dilemma: “You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.” (11:50) Saying these words was not just a cunning idea on Caiaphas’ part; he was inspired by God to voice this prophecy, for God knew that his Son was not long for this world. Those in power were plotting Jesus’ death.

We know that the story doesn’t end in death. That is simply a turn in the path, as Jesus rounds the bases. Death does come first, followed by resurrection, and ascension to Heaven. Jesus’ journey, like his ministry, was not focused on glorifying himself – rather, it was outwardly focused to include all people. In dying, even more told the stories of God’s healing and hope. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, gathered not just one nation, but all “dispersed children of God” (11:52). Yet another miracle was performed: what was broken was drawn together and healed, so that we might believe and proclaim the Good News through words and deeds.

Today, turn your back upon darkness and look to the light of Christ…and maybe watch a baseball game!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

• What aspects of our 21st century culture highlight the divide between good and evil for you?

• When offered a proposition for advancement, how have you weighed the costs and the promises?

Daily Challenge

Write down three ways that fear motivates you. Note the positive and negative outcomes. Reflect on where God is calling you to grow, repent, and live more deeply in grace.

Why Can't We Live Together - September 11

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Job 29:1,31:24-40; Acts 15:12-21; John 11:30-44

During a diocesan webinar yesterday with Dr. Catherine Meeks, Executive Director of the Absalom Jones Center for Racial Healing, I was reminded of a raw film from 2012, Beasts of the Southern Wild. The protagonist is a six-year-old girl named Hushpuppy who roams around the wilds of Louisiana’s bayous, drawn to listen to the heartbeat of every living thing, for we all have hungry hearts. I thought about Hushpuppy’s gift for naming the things that connect us, rather than perpetuating division, when I read the excerpt today from Acts.

As we follow the ministry of the apostles of Jesus, we see deep and surprising healing in the struggle to find common ground and shared faith. Paul, Barnabas, Peter, and others have been preaching to the churches across the ancient Near East about the Good News to people of all faiths and exposures. There was this movement of two steps forward, one step back. People were hearing and accepting the messages of love, healing, and hope about the Lord God, though when they looked around to see who else would be a part of this community of believers, they began to back up and draw divisions and qualifications of participation.

We read “that a great number of both Jews and Greeks became believers. But the unbelieving Jews stirred up the Gentiles and poisoned their minds against the brothers.” (14:1b-2) We keep hearing this us-versus-them paradigm through the Holy Scriptures, don’t we? There was this tension between the Jewish people, who identify with the Israelites, and those called Gentiles, who fell into the “everything else” bucket.

As some of the apostles appealed to the elders in Jerusalem, Peter spoke up, clarifying the tension at play: “We believe that we [the Jews] will be saved through the grace of the Lord Jesus, just as they [the Gentiles] will.” (15:11) He set no condition to mandate circumcision among all males, though this marker of Jewish identity was the custom that had been put into place back to Abraham. This struggle of identity continued, though these people of faith wanted to move forward.

In the assembly, Paul and Barnabas took their turn, testifying to the signs and wonders God had worked through them among the Gentiles. There was not grumbling or unrest as they shared their story. The audience was quiet – and listening. James, brother of Jesus, spoke up, “…we should not trouble those Gentiles who are turning to God” (15:19) and advise abstaining from things that will pollute the soul or body, like idolatry, fornication, and non-kosher meals. The audience did not respond by muttering, anger or dissent. They came together, assenting to act on this common ground for how people with differences could live together with mutual respect and love for God.

This model of finding ways to live together draws from the teachings of the prophets and the life of Jesus. The early Christians, and we today, are called to tell the truth, proclaim the dream that God has for us, mend the divisions between us, and practice following the Way. It is no easy work to become the Beloved Community. It has risks. It has great rewards. And if we listen and work to love one another as God has loved us, who knows what remarkable healing can come among our relationships with our family, neighbors, and ourselves.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

·       When you hear a challenging message, one that goes against what you believe, what is your reaction?

·       When have you been a voice of hope and togetherness?

Daily Challenge

Listen to yourself in conversation and internal monologue today. Who is in the we/us category for you? Who is in the they/them category? Pray about where God is calling you to find common ground and live in unity, rather than division?

Sing to the Lord a New Song – September 10

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 50; PM Psalms 93, 96; Job 29:1,31:1-23; Acts 15:1-11; John 11:17-29

In July 2019, the 50th anniversary of the first lunar landing was celebrated. Apollo 11 burst forth from the Earth’s atmosphere and traveled for four days before landing on a region of the moon called the Sea of Tranquility on July 20, 1969. Many hours and years of planning and testing went into the “space race” around the world. The city of Huntsville, Alabama, has played a pivotal role in advancing the field of aerospace engineering.

When we moved to Huntsville after seminary, the U.S. Space and Rocket Center was one of the first tourist stops we wanted to explore. My husband Sam grew up with a deep fascination about space exploration, reading voraciously about the spacecrafts, missions, and technology. Visiting this amazing venue was special, as we got to introduce our kids to the wonders of outer space.

To commemorate the 50th anniversary of the lunar landing, there were events at the Space and Rocket Center, from weekly conversations with rocket scientists, to a Guinness World Record launch of 5,000 model rockets. My parish at that time, St. Thomas, had a strong contingent of parishioners involved with the engineering, design, and technology that support space exploration. We planned a Eucharist to celebrate the lunar landing, using space-themed readings, hymns, and the “Star Wars” Eucharistic Prayer (“…the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses…”).

Today, the first line of Psalm 96 grabs me and the hymn “Earth and All Stars” runs through my head. “Sing to the Lord a new song!” is repeated twice in each stanza, honoring the many aspects of life for which we lift our voices to say thank you to God. Penned in the 1960s as technology was booming and President John F. Kennedy vowed the US would lead the way to the moon, this hymn names some loud things around us: rushing planets, clashing cymbals, hammers and workers, boiling test tubes, praying members. In all these noises and advances, we sing out the refrain, “God has done marvelous things. I, too, sing praises with a new song.”

As you pray through Psalm 96, accept the invitation to accept a posture of gratitude. Listen for how God is stirring your heart to declare God’s glory and share what of God’s creation reveals joy and wonder. Whether observing a sunset, hearing the crash of waves, or touching the bark of a tree in the woods, join me in singing praises with a new song.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

For what aspects of life do you give thanks today?

What hymn or song from church do you miss? What tunes have been going through your head?

Daily Challenge

Call or write a friend. Share with a friend one of the aspects of your life that sings a song of praise and makes a joyful noise to the Lord.

Tales from the Holy Hike Trail - September 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; Job 29:1,30:1-2,16-31; Acts 14:19-28; John 11:1-16

Over Labor Day weekend, a group of about 40 people from Saint Stephen’s assembled at Camp McDowell to embark on a Saturday morning Holy Hike. Rocks, brambles, broadleaf magnolias, and angry yellow jackets escorted us on our adventure. Equipped with face coverings, water bottles, and walking sticks, we set out as a jubilant crew, ranging in age from young to young-at-heart. We crossed the swinging bridge and began the trek up to the large white cross overlooking the not-so-clear Clear Creek.

We stopped first at a rocky site to read the gospel appointed for the day. We heard the Good News that Jesus is the Good Shepherd, and that the flock knows their shepherd’s voice. We continued our hike up to the top of the bluff and gathered at the base of the tall stone cross, looking out over the creek. At that pinnacle, hikers offered their prayers for the Church, concerns of the world, and the God-given gifts that surround us. Filled with prayer, the group meandered down toward the metal ladder – the quick way to get back across the creek, where lunch was soon to be served.

Our plans, however, were thwarted by forces of nature. Footsteps and general exuberance disturbed a community of yellow jackets in subterranean residence at the top of the 12’ ladder bolted into the rockface. A handful of kids and two adults made it down the rungs of the ladder before the attack began. Howling cries rang out as my nine year old was stung on the leg. Moments later, my four year old shrieked and held his hand tightly to his body. Four more, two adults and two kids, were stung in the chaos. Tears of pain and fears for safety clouded our next steps.

Would we push ahead upon the shorter route, risking more injuries? Turn back and retrace our hike over the bluff? Wait for the yellow jackets to simmer down, and try again? Were those with us allergic to wasp stings and at greater risk?

The group moved back, gathered people and thoughts, assessed the risks – and found another way. An older path guided us through brambles, away from pugnacious bugs, and ultimately to our destination.

As I sit with our readings for today’s Daily Office, I am struck by reactions we share when pain ails us. We share in Job’s lament of the pain that racks his bones and the gnawing agony that does not stop (30:17). His inward parts are in turmoil (30:27), and in comparison and self-pity he asks, “Didn’t I show compassion to those who were struggling? Why am I suffering now?” (30:25).

As in John when Lazarus is ill, we share with Mary and Martha in the discomfort of watching our loved one slip away. We wait and pray that God will help us. The waiting drags on. While we are assured of God’s love, will the Lord offer the help we’ve prayed to see?

As in Acts when Paul has been stoned and thought dead, we circle around those who are injured or suffering. We surround them with prayer, presence, and encouragement. And sometimes, they bounce right back and continue proclaiming the greatness of God’s glory through words and deeds.

Whether on a Holy Hike or the path through human existence, sometimes we slip and fall, and though it really hurts, we can choose to keep going. Sometimes people we love are stung by yellow jackets, and all we can offer are words of comfort and a hug – because we cannot take away the pain. And sometimes, the trail is obscured, and we can rely on fellow travelers on the journey to walk alongside us, making the way more apparent.

May the Good Shepherd guide your steps today, wherever you wander.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Think of a time you were lost, either physically or metaphorically. How did you react? Who did you call upon to help you? When have you retold that story to others?

Daily Challenge

Ponder what words of encouragement can help you persevere when facing something challenging. It can be a piece of scripture, song lyrics, or the Holy Spirit inspiring your own words. Write those words down, marked with today’s date. Set it aside and come back to that bit of encouragement when you are ailing and tired.

Stay faithful, my friends. - September 8

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 45; PM Psalm 47, 48; Job 29:1-20; Acts 14:1-18; John 10:31-42

In John 10, Jesus is preaching and teaching among the people from Judea and some of the Hebrew people are disturbed by his words. Division and disagreement are bubbling up and spilling over into threats of physical violence against Jesus. The crowds want to know who he is, and the answers they hear are unsettling. Jesus tells his listeners that he is the good shepherd: tending his own flock, caring for all, and going to extremes to gather those lost. Continuing the metaphor, there are other sheep who will be incorporated into the one flock, under the protection and care of one shepherd. Then, he states that he is that shepherd.

In the same breath of naming his role as the Good Shepherd, leader and protector, he speaks to his willingness to die for the love that God has imbued in him. The ministry of Jesus isn’t just a martyr situation, because, as John writes it, Jesus is willing to sacrifice his life in order to gain new life. Even more stunning, Jesus has agency over what happens: “I lay [my life] down of my own accord…and I have power to take it up again.”

Other traveling faith healers may operate by sleight of hand deception, yet the source of Jesus’ life and ministry is grounded in God’s own power, for “The Father and I are one.” This becomes the boiling point: blasphemy. Jesus is seen as human and not divine, so to claim that he is God is sacrilegious. The punishment for blasphemy is death, according to Leviticus 24:16 - “One who blasphemes the name of the Lord shall be put to death; the whole congregation shall stone the blasphemer.”

In the face of substantial doubt and angry opposition, Jesus responds that his actions are not profaning, but glorifying the Lord: “If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe in me. But if I do them, even though you do not believe in me, believe the works, so that you may know and understand that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.” And then, Jesus evades arrest and retreats across the Jordan to continue ministry with a different, more receptive audience.

Folks, this is all very intense. By retelling the life and ministry of Jesus, the goal of John’s gospel is for all who hear those words to believe that Jesus is the divine Messiah, Son of God. What becomes apparent to me is that hearing a different point of view – though honest and true – is a hard voice to listen to and understand. As the conflict unfolds, Jesus is proposing the grace and care of God in hope; the synthesis and fulfillment of the legacy created by of the Law and the Prophets. This new thing – while amazing – is upending. The Judeans, and we today, have moments of crises when our faith is shaky and we don’t know where to go next. And so, Jesus asks all who listen to be non-reactive and simply exist in the discomfort of His divine truth. He asks us to stay connected, keep praying, keep watching…for in watching the actions, the law, love and power of God will burst forth. Jesus is a testament to that – his works of healing and compassion point to the love of God. Isn’t that what Presiding Bishop Michael Curry says? If it’s not about love, then it’s not about God. Is it easy? No. Is it possible? Yes. Stay faithful, my friends.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What about John 10 is challenging to you? Where do you find yourself saying yes, and where are you hesitating?

Daily Challenge

• Take time in prayer today. Pray about a space of discomfort and sit in it. Ask God to lead you to others who can be an example of hope in the face of division.