My grandmother's faith - December 12

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 30, 32; PM Psalm 42, 43; Isa. 8:1-15; 2 Thess. 3:6-18; Luke 22:31-38

Why are you so full of heaviness, O my soul?
and why are you so disquieted within me?

Put your trust in God;
for I will yet give thanks to him,
who is the help of my countenance, and my God.

- Psalm 42:6-7

Last night, I listened to some audio files that our friend Derry digitized for me from a stack of cassette tapes in our home office desk. Some were crackly and muffled. I heard voices that I did not recognize, and others that struck a chord of deep familiarity – like that of my grandfather, who died 30 years ago. I spent an hour eavesdropping on recorded conversations of family stories.

One conversation I listened to was between my maternal grandmother, Martha Jane McWhorter, and a man named A. J. Coleman. I never met Martha Jane, but I grew up hearing stories of her charisma and love for life. A. J. was an attorney, and my grandmother was in the hospital, undergoing treatments for cancer. They both were active at First Presbyterian Church in Decatur, Alabama. The conversation was recorded on November 16, 1972; she died less than 6 months later.

What sticks out from this conversation is her deep gratitude for and resolute faith in God. Martha Jane had a strong faith foundation, as her father (and his father before him) was a Presbyterian minister. In the recorded conversation, she recalls a time in her life when she was lonely and in a posture of “poor me” (her words). She remembers sitting on the living room floor, weighed down by her feelings of sadness: “I remember feeling so alone, so completely alone…and there was no one else but poor me. And at that time, I realized that I had a friend, and that [God] was my friend and he was going to take care of me, as long as I held his hand.” Martha Jane says that she went from being an “only, lonely individual” who needed more strength than she could muster, to someone who could stand upright again and take the next step.

Our brushes with the Divine – as I hear in Martha Jane’s story – are often unexpected and can surprise and refresh us when we are in life’s low points. The words of Psalms 42 and 43 speak to those feelings of longing and heaviness that intersect with putting one’s whole trust in God. It is a process of emptying out the burdens on our shoulders, setting aside our self-sufficiency, so that we might rely more fully on God. And yet, our hands get full of other worries and fears, so we forget to grab onto God’s hand. We forget to recognize that God is our ever-present companion and friend.

Perhaps you have been in a similar posture, lonely and isolated. Maybe you are feeling that way right now, an “only, lonely individual”. Know that you are beloved by God. Just as Jesus prayed for Peter’s faith to not fail in a time of uncertainty and fear, he also commanded Peter to pray for and strengthen his friends. That prayer of reinforcement and encouragement is passed down to you and me. If you find yourself on the living room floor today, take a moment to pray and make sure you are grabbing tightly to God’s hand, which is strong enough to lift you through all things.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you felt so low that you were on the floor? What or who helped you get up?

Daily Challenge

 What would it be like to grab onto God's hand for strength today? Take a moment to reflect for yourself. Call a friend or family member who is lonely. Offer encouragement and prayer for them in this time of isolation.

Be My Strong Rock - December 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; Isa. 7:10-25; 2 Thess. 2:13-3:5; Luke 22:14-30

Today’s Reflection

Psalm 31 reminds us of how in God we can find our refuge. The psalmist calls out to God, praying that God would, “Incline your ear to me; make haste to deliver me. Be my strong rock, a castle to keep me safe, for you are my crag and my stronghold; for the sake of your name, lead me and guide me” (Psalm 31: 2-3). With these words, we are reminded of several of God’s attributes, including that God protects us, comforts us, listens to us, delivers us, and guides us. In my experience, I have found that one of the chief ways through which God offers us refuge—and does all these things for us—is through the friends God places in our lives, the companions God gives us as we find our way through the changes and chances of this life.

In Luke 22, we find Jesus at the end of his time here on earth. He offered his friends bread and wine, saying them to the very words that we still use today (what we call the words of institution) in our Eucharistic prayers: “Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood’” (Luke 22: 19-20).

Sadly, right after that, Jesus’ friends got off track, worrying about who among them is the greatest and who is the least. Jesus reminded them that what greatness really means is to be a servant, as he has done. And then he says to them, “You are those who have stood by me in my trials; and I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom, so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom” (Luke 22: 28-30a). Even Jesus needed friends to stand by him (NRSV) or stay with him (ESV) through the tough moments in life. Jesus’ strong rock, his crag and stronghold, were these friends.

One of the hardest sacrifices I made in following God’s call to move from Florida to Texas for seminary was the sacrifice of leaving good friends with whom I had worked side by side for 11 years. Along the way, I grew to know them and love them as some of the most dear people in my life. So, when I moved to Austin I was not only leaving these dear ones behind, but also going without any promise that I would find new “heart people” there.

Of course, eventually, I did make new friends there, friends with whom I feel just as close or closer to than the friends from previous chapters in life. And how is it that we became such close friends? Because we went through times of trial. Together, we navigated all sorts of weirdness and pressures that are par for the course in the strange fishbowl that is seminary and formation for the priesthood. And now, I find myself really missing these friends, too.

Before the pandemic was ever on our radar, before everyone started Zoom-ing for everything, we set up a Facebook group for our cohort, which is about 17 people who went through the MDiv or Anglican Studies programs at Seminary of the Southwest. And we had to find a time to meet that would work for people who are scattered across time zones from Seattle, Washington to Wiesbaden, Germany. We haven’t been meeting quite as often lately—and I’ve been missing these times of encouragement. But just yesterday a classmate posted and asked if people would be up for Zoom-ing this week—and when I saw that post, my heart felt glad. These are friends who are like family. We are each other’s “crag and stronghold,” and we continue to stand by one another in times of trial—just as Jesus and his friends did, and Paul and his friends in Thessaloniki, too.

I hope you have found people like this as you have journeyed through life, companions to be your “strong rock” along the way. I suspect that for many of you, you have found these kinds of supportive friends in our community here at Saint Stephen’s. To echo Paul’s letter to some of his friends, the Thessalonians, “But we must always give thanks to God for you, brothers and sisters beloved by the Lord. … Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word” (2 Thess. 2: 13, 16-17).

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Who are the people have stood with you through times of trial, the people who are your rock and stronghold that help you feel safe? And who counts you among the sources of strength and protection in their life?

Daily Challenge

Find a moment to write a note, send a text, or make a call to a few of the “rocks” God has given to you as a source of support and place of refuge in your life. Tell them what they mean to you. Remind them that you are there for them whenever they need a refuge and a castle to keep them safe.

Making Tough Decisions - December 10

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 37:1-18; PM Psalm 37:19-42; Isa. 7:1-9; 2 Thess. 2:1-12; Luke 22:1-13

Today’s scripture is bold, and its message is very convicting to me.  As the Gospel of Luke says, “the chief priests and the scribes are looking to put Jesus to death, for they were afraid of the people.”  In other words, they are allowing fear of the community to guide their leadership practice and force them into participating in the very destruction of sacred human life, what we have come to know as God’s very self. 

This story pushes me to consider all of the times I have acted and refused to act for the fear of what people might say or do.  As a parish priest, specifically as Rector, with the responsibility of caring for a staff of twenty full and part-time employees, I often worry considerably about what would happen if too many people became upset with a decision I have made or something I have said or done.  Don’t worry too much, I work hard not to make decisions in a vacuum. 

So, as I read Luke, there is part of me that is sympathizing with the scribes and priests.  Maybe their sect of Judaism is thriving, they feel they are finally living into their mission as a faith community, and they are too scared to push against the opinions of their people.  The church doesn’t want to ruffle any feathers. The result of that decision is the crucifixion, and on Good Friday, we are invited to consider our role in that very narrative.  Maybe we are the people who want Jesus gone so that our lives can return to normal, or maybe we are the religious leaders who are too scared to push against popular opinion. The parallels to the challenges of today are striking as leaders in every sect of our life work to make difficult decisions that will certainly upset a lot of people. 

But today is not Good Friday, but one of the many days of Advent.  And this story is a story of hope. Because we know that God’s grace conquers even the worst of it all, the death of precious human life, God’s very own self.   It is even through this that we find hope and resurrection.  And yet, if we are to wait for this hope to be born new in our lives on Christmas, we must consider what our role in God’s great story should be.  In this time of pandemic and especially poignant political strife and conflict, maybe God is inviting us to be faithful to the radical way of love even at the cost of disrupting the status quo.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  When have you acted or refused to act for the fear of what people might say or do?

Daily Challenge: In this especially polarizing time, pay attention to when you feel passionately that you are compromising your value system to keep the peace.  Be emboldened to speak up or act.

Holy visions and hot coals - December 9

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48; Isa. 6:1-13; 2 Thess. 1:1-12; John 7:53-8:11

A portion of Isaiah appointed for today is also one of the lessons that can be read during the ordination of a priest. A portion of Psalm 119 read during Noonday prayer is one that can be read during the ordination of a deacon. How interesting that our lectionary rotation for the Daily Office pairs those two pieces of scripture together on the same day. Both speak to serving, and what life in the role of a servant looks like.

In Isaiah, we have this oracle, a heavenly vision, by the prophet. He calls out, overcome, in humility and awe. “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” Can you imagine being in that posture? The ecstasy and wonder are palpable from that brush with the heavenly. Next in this vision, an angelic character holds a hot coal to Isaiah’s lips. And then the prophet hears God’s voice asking, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” In spite of purportedly singed lips, Isaiah says, “Here am I; send me!” Through the smoke and mystery, Isaiah raises his voice – his unclean lips now purified from the coal of the altar of God. And he says, I will go. Send me, Lord.

I don’t know how many of my colleagues have ever had such an intense interaction with the Divine. I cannot say that my ordination was nearly this exciting. What I hold in my heart is that response Isaiah offers to God – Here am I; send me. In spite of where I have been and what I have done, God calls me to confess my sins and say yes to ways I can seek and serve all people.

The psalm is a bit more direct in its appeal. Through Psalm 119:33-40, the psalmist prays that God affect her mind through teaching and understanding; sway her body to God’s desire rather than hers through moving her feet, heart, and eyes; and then calls God to make good on the promise made to her – a promise of faithfulness and salvation. What concise and honest pleas are set before God in this prayer.

As someone discerning God’s call and seeking to serve God as their vocation, these words from Psalm 119 are a beautiful backbone of reflection and guidance…and yet, these words guide many more than the priests and deacons who have poured over them. All looking to serve God and care for those in deepest need and trouble can return to these words of humility and hopefulness. All people looking for holy inspiration from prophets of old can read Isaiah 6 and feel the fire of God’s glory upon their lips – and you, too, can say, “Here am I; send me!”

Wherever you are sitting or working or traveling this day, I pray that you feel stirred by God’s voice.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What stories come to mind when you think of divine revelation? Have you had a brush with God? Who did you tell? What do you recall today?

Daily Challenge

Spend about five minutes thinking and praying about how God can stir you to serve others today. Call someone on the phone and talk about what you’ve determined – and make a plan to do just that! (Remember, serving God can simply look like a phone call to someone who is lonely or sick.) Share God’s love and blessings in whatever way you are able to do so today.

On Level Ground - December 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 26, 28; PM Psalm 36, 39; Isa. 5:13-17, 24-25; 1 Thess. 5:12-28; Luke 21:29-38

Today’s Reflection

Give judgment for me, O Lord, for I have lived with integrity; I have trusted in the Lord and have not faltered. Test me, O Lord, and try me; examine my heart and my mind. For your love is before my eyes; I have walked faithfully with you.  … As for me, I will live with integrity; redeem me, O Lord, and have pity on me. My foot stands on level ground; in the full assembly I will bless the Lord. —Psalm 26: 1-3, 11-12

While in seminary in Austin, I had an excellent counselor who helped me work through many things, including discerning what exactly God was doing in calling me out of my safe, comfortable existence to be formed for whatever was still ahead of me. It all seemed very amorphous and uncertain, so it was very helpful to have a trusted person to listen and ask good questions as I struggled to find the path appointed for me.

Last fall, once I was in my first job post-seminary, a couple hours down the road from Austin, I needed to find someone in my new community to help me continue the work of discernment. I found a spiritual director, Heidi, who walked alongside me in a year that was difficult on many levels. I found comfort in these conversations with a person gifted in asking good questions, listening to me, and guiding me as I continued to discern what exactly God was doing through several years of disruption and disquietude.

One of the things I especially like about this spiritual director is that she sometimes has had a special word for me, something she feels should share with me, be it a picture or metaphor or a particular piece of scripture that I was meant to hear and carry around with me in my heart as I discerned. One of the scriptures that Heidi spoke over me last year is Psalm 26:12, “My foot stands on level ground; in the full assembly I will bless the Lord.” She wanted me to rest in that assurance that no matter what might happen, that I was standing on level ground—not shaky ground, but the level, solid, stable ground of God’s loving presence in my life.

The verse just before this very much resonated with me as well, so I wrote both verses down and posted them on a place by my office window where I often would gaze outside, look up, and pray for God to continue to guide me through that difficult time and space: “But as for me, I shall walk in my integrity; redeem me, and be gracious to me. My foot stands on level ground; in the great assembly I will bless the Lord” (Psalm 26: 11-12, English Standard Version).

Doing the right thing is not always the easy thing. Doing the right thing can mean swimming against the tide of what it feels like others are doing or would have us to do. Doing the right thing can even mean doing what we ourselves would rather not do. Doing the right thing can also mean not doing something that we really want to do.

This year of 2020 has been full of moments of discernment, many moments of trying to figure out what is the right thing to do. And in 2020, many mundane daily life decisions we would never have considered as moments for discernment, now feel weightier. As we approach the end of 2020, with a surge in COVID cases, hospitalizations, and lives lost, we will face even more of these moments of discernment, both personally and corporately. As a church—only just recently reunited for in-person worship these past eight weeks—we have learned it is time for us to set aside in-person worship and formation in favor of the common good. As we hear the psalmist pray in Psalm 26, God calls us to live with integrity, to walk faithfully knowing that when we do so we are walking with God beside us.

In a similar spirit, Paul ends his letter to the Thessalonians with these words, which I hope will also be encouraging for us as we enter this next phase in our Coronatide spiritual journey together: “But test everything; hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil. May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do this” (1 Thessalonians 5: 21-24).

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When have you felt the reassurance that you were standing on God’s level ground?

What moments in your life’s journey have especially challenged you to walk in your integrity?

Daily Challenge

As we continue together through this challenging time, commit to praying daily for discernment and clarity for the leaders of our community and nation as well as for the leaders of this church, that together we will know what it means to walk in our integrity and that God will keep us all on level ground.

A Place to Call Home - December 7

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15; Isa. 5:8-12,18-23; 1 Thess. 5:1-11; Luke 21:20-28

About five years ago, I would spend about an hour or so on Monday mornings helping with an English class at the Refugee Empowerment Program, a nonprofit in Memphis that wasn’t far from where I lived.  The refugees in the program had been resettled in Memphis as part of a government program and the nonprofit helped these men and women learn enough English to be able to make an appointment at a doctor’s office, figure out food at the grocery store, and begin to learn the basics of navigating this complex world we live in. 

One of the young men that I worked with had no concept of a written language.  I would have him trace different letters over and over and I can remember that sense of joy after a few weeks when it began to feel like we were making progress.  As mind blowing as it was to try to comprehend not understanding a written language, I struggled more to make sense of this man not having a home.  Until ending up in the United States, his entire life had taken place in a refugee camp.  He had no country of origin.  Everyone else in the Monday English class was from ‘somewhere,’ but my friend had no place that he called home, or at least, not that we could figure out. 

I thought of this young man when I read today’s passage from Isaiah.  While these words are nearly 3000 years old, Isaiah could be writing about today.  Listen to Isaiah, “Ah, you who join house to house, who add field to field, until there is room for no one but you, and you are left to live alone in the midst of the land!”  The editor of the New Revised Standard Version (translation of the Bible) puts an exclamation point on the end of the sentence.  Saint Stephen’s is in a very neighborhood where houses are torn down to build bigger houses that take up even more land like this battle to build the biggest house and swallow up everyone else. Growing up, I thought this was the goal of life, to keep getting larger houses to put all of our things in, but Isaiah reminds us that a selfish vision leads us to ultimately be alone. 

The young refuge that I had worked with had no place to call home.  And I wasn’t there to learn his story or he to learn mine, but he still has me wondering all these years later, just what led to him not having a home.  How could he have come from a place where there was no room for him to exist?  Who did exist in that place before and what caused his family to have to flee? Were the other houses just too big?

As the prophet Isaiah writes, I wonder if the person Isaiah is critical of felt successful in their life.  Certainly, the person was prosperous with the acquisition of homes and land.  Isaiah’s cautionary warning suggests that how the person embodied success also led to their isolation and demise.  The critique stems from there being no room for anyone but ourselves in our lives.  The parallel to Christmas is stunning.  There was no room for Mary and Joseph and their newborn child in the Inn. 

If the season of Advent is about preparing to welcome the gift of God Incarnate into our lives, then we have to make sure we have room.  It could be as simple as turning away from our self-interest and learning to make sure that we have space in our lives for others.  From the stranger to the friend in need, from the refugee to the estranged relative, no person should be without a place to call home.

 John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  When have you found it challenging to help friends or strangers in need?  When have you found it easy? 

Daily Challenge:  Try to complete one task that would then allow you to be more emotionally available to help the next person or friend whose path you cross that is some kind of need.

Reunion in the Clouds - December 5

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 20, 21:1-7; PM Psalm 110:1-5, 116, 117; Isa. 4:2-6; 1 Thess. 4:13-18; Luke 21:5-19

For the Lord himself, with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call and with the sound of God’s trumpet, will descend from heaven, and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and so we will be with the Lord for ever. Therefore encourage one another with these words. (1 Thess 4:16-18)

A dear family friend died from COVID-19 yesterday. His name is Larry and he was a good and kind man. His older daughter Katherine and I grew up together, and his younger daughter Elizabeth and my sisters were the same age. We have remained close friends for more than 40 years. Our families lived in the same neighborhood and carpooled together through elementary and high school. Since there were two Katherines, Larry always called me “KT” (my maiden name is Terry). The Dixons welcomed me into their home on the eve of Christmas Eve every year; we celebrated friendship, Larry and Gaynell’s wedding anniversary, and caught up from the year behind us, looking to the year ahead. We shared stories of present and laughed about tales from childhood. Now, I hold onto those sweet memories, as I can still see Larry sitting in his armchair by the back door in the living room, with a kind smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. While he had a public role as a State Senator, I knew him as part of the fabric of time that felt like home. Larry loved God, his wife and daughters, his sons-in-law, and adored his grandchildren – playing golf was high up there, too.

Lamenting Larry’s death and praying for Gaynell as she continues to struggle with COVID-19, the words from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians will have to be enough today. Paul’s hope in this message is to bring comfort in grief, reiterating a promised reunion and God’s unbreakable love. He wants to encourage them, as their eyes sting with tears, that the dead are not lost but will rise first. He uses imagery of clouds, angels, trumpets. I am struck by the cloud…that cloud of protection from God we hear about in Isaiah is the very same space where we, when we rise, will bump into those we have loved and lost. We will be “caught up in the clouds together”.  On a different day, I might wander through this phrase more, holding up how Paul’s expression about our participation in ascension has influenced the thought of some Christians about what happens in the Rapture. Today, I imagine a holy and joyous traffic jam enshrouded with fog and mist, where we are reconnected with other “heart people” from earlier in time. And together we will meet the Lord.

Though there are times when tears fill our eyes and our hearts feel heavy, let us still find space to encourage one another and proclaim Alleluia!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

For whom do you mourn today? Who do you hope you’ll bump into in the hereafter? Who do you hope to avoid? And what do you think of the concept of Heaven put forth by the Apostle Paul?

Daily Challenge

Take time today to call someone meaningful to you. Perhaps you share a friend or family member in common who has died. Talk with them about this passage from 1 Thessalonians. What do you look forward to about a holy reunion? Explore hopes and questions.

Go Out and Do It - December 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 22; Isa. 3:8-15; 1 Thess. 4:1-12; Luke 20:41-21:4

Today’s Reflection

Now concerning love of the brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anyone write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another; and indeed you do love all the brothers and sisters throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, beloved, to do so more and more, to aspire to live quietly, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we directed you, so that you may behave properly towards outsiders and be dependent on no one.  1 Thess. 4: 9-12

Our oldest daughter is very into Japanese pop culture, and one of the ways she has introduced that into our family is by sharing with us her love of Hayao Miyazaki’s classic Studio Ghibli films. On a quiet Sunday afternoon back in June, we watched one called Kiki’s Delivery Service, which really spoke to me then and it connects well with what we hear today in 1 Thessalonians 4: 9-12:: that we have all that we need for our own journeys and to live fully into the work that God has given each of us to do—which is to make this world a better place by loving those we meet along the way.

Kiki is a 13-year-old girl who lives with her parents, but there’s something a bit different about her life. Kiki’s mother is a witch—the good kind, whose work is to make potions that heal, like for the elderly neighbor who visits to get the potion that helps her arthritis. Kiki is also a good-witch-to-be, and ever since she turned 13 she has been waiting for the perfect night when she will take off on her flying broom to do something like a year abroad that’s required of all new witches as a rite of passage. And when we meet Kiki, the weather is right and the moon is full, and her family and friends joyfully send her out into the world, knowing that as she goes out on her quest she will land in just the right place where she can find her way and find her gifts.

And so, Kiki and her black cat Jiji set off, and they land in a beautiful seaside city, where Kiki is quickly overwhelmed by her initial task of finding a place to live and a means to provide for herself out in the big, wide world. Soon, she lands upon the idea of using her ability to fly on her broom--even though her broom-flying is still very wobbly--to open a delivery service. She meets a kindly bakery owner, Osono, and her husband, who allow her to live in the attic above their bakery in exchange for making deliveries for them and helping mind the bakery counter.

Kiki also makes deliveries for others in the community—and with some, she strikes up friendships, and something beautiful unfolds as they mutually support and show kindness to each other—as it did with the older ladies who called Kiki to deliver a homemade dish to a granddaughter’s birthday party on the other side of the city, or with the Bohemian artist who she delivers to at her cottage in the woods. But some of the people Kiki encounters, mainly other kids her age, see her as being too different and shun her, which (especially for a 13-year-old) makes her lose confidence in herself and she begins to lose her ability to fly and lose her ability to communicate with her cat, Jiji.

In the end, Kiki regains her ability to pilot her flying broom when she rises to the occasion to save her friend Tombo, who is literally holding on by a thread from a blimp that has crashed into a skyscraper. In that moment, Kiki regains her confidence in the gifts she has been given, and flies forward with great courage to save the life of her friend when no one else could. And from that moment on, Kiki moves forward on her quest—a quest to become a good witch with greater confidence that yes, she is fully ready to be the person—and in her case, the good witch—that she was created to be.

Like Kiki, God has sent each of us on our own quests to find our gifts, and then when we have found them, to fully live into the work that God has given each one of us to do—to make this world a better place for those we meet along the way. Now all that remains is for to us to go out and do it.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

How might aspiring to live quietly, mind your own affairs, and work with your hands better enable you to share God’s love others?

Daily Challenge

Think of one concrete daily practice that will help you to live more quietly and peacefully with the people God has placed in your daily life, be they your family, colleagues, neighbors, or friends. Commit to this quiet, peace-promoting practice for the next few days. Notice what changes in you and in your interactions with the people in your daily life.

Bearing Hope - December 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 18:1-20; PM Psalm 18:21-50; Isa. 2:12-22; 1 Thess. 3:1-13; Luke 20:27-40

There is an interesting paradox within the Christian faith that is often overlooked.  We read about God, study God, and pray to God as if God is somewhere else, far off, and outside our human comprehension.  And yet, we experience God in the intimate conversations with other friends and family. This cannot be stated enough. People might have a moment of awe and wonder walking into an ancient building or hearing a haunting piece of music, but we experience love through others.  Our understanding of God is entirely dependent on how other people love us. 

Think of how you first ended up at church.  Was it an invitation from a friend or loved one?  A gentle tug or nudging from a community of people who beckoned you into their lives?  What have you missed most about a faith community in this time of pandemic?  I do hear stories of people just wanting to be on the grounds of the church, but our slow return with social distancing and no singing has still left a hole in the spiritual lives of many.  “I just want to give someone a hug at the peace” or “shake hands” or “mingle afterward for hours with useless, yet beautiful conversation.”  I hear it over and over again. 

The Church in Thessaloniki is facing its own challenges, specifically around persecution, but they are struggling.  Paul is in the port city of Corinth having just traveled from Athens, a few months after leaving the community in Thessaloniki.  They are longing for connection and to grow spiritually.   When you first read the letter that Paul writes, it might sound surprising that Paul does not return to the community he has helped found, but instead, he sends his friend, Timothy.  Timothy has just returned sharing the news of their faith and love and how it has grown from Timothy’s presence and love for them. 

One of the reasons I bring up this paradox within the Christian faith is to focus on the reality that many of us are looking for where God is going to show up next in our lives.  Undoubtedly we all have met several people who have been a person like Timothy in our own life.  But the more daunting and evangelical question is who have we encouraged through our presence and love?  If the real human experience of God is truly Incarnational and shared through love, our lives are filled with missionary journeys to places and people that need the encouragement of Christ.   

We are in the season of Advent and everyone is searching for hope.  Maybe they are waiting for you to bear the message.

John+

Questions for Self Reflection: Who has most impacted your faith? Who has encouraged you recently to grow or supported you through a difficult time?

Daily Challenge: Write a note of encouragement (not an email) and mail it to someone in your faith community reminding them that you pray for them and support them. them in their faith.

Unmovable honesty - December 2

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14; Isa. 2:1-11; 1 Thess. 2:13-20; Luke 20:19-26

For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you? Yes, you are our glory and joy! (1 Thess 2:19-20)

For many reasons, this is a meaningful time of year. December 1, 2019 was my first Sunday at Saint Stephen’s. I was ordained to the priesthood on this day three years ago. I started my first full-time job following graduate school around this time of year. This is a time of change and hope for me.

As I reflect on my career opening at UAB, it was an opening into much learning and growth, and not without uncertainty and struggle. I was surrounded by compassionate, funny co-workers who helped me along the way. I applied what I already knew about being a responsible hard worker; my mom (and others) helped instill this value in me. I learned about humility and servant leadership; Gail, the administrator of the office, helped instill these values in me. Gail possessed qualities much more valuable than letters signifying degrees after her name. She spoke kindly and directly. She had keen insights and offered them with humility. One day, early in my time at the Injury Center, Gail saw me delegate a menial task to a partner on a project. Later, she called me into her office. She said, “Katherine, I am going to give you some advice. If you are not willing to do a job, then think twice before you ask someone else to do it.”

Gail delivered the message in the way that I needed to hear it. I was humbled, embarrassed, and yet, not hurt. She and I did not share the long-term emotional bonds that can clutter or complicate a mother-daughter dynamic. I grew to understand that I could trust that the guidance and input Gail offered was for the bettering of us as people and partners in our efforts. And what’s more, Gail was acting out of her Christian faith as a person loving Jesus at all costs…and sharing that message of unmovable honesty.

In the excerpt from the first letter to the Thessalonians today, Paul writes in glowing appreciation, as he has learned of the transformation of the Thessalonians as they have embraced following the way of Jesus Christ. Now, as pieces of Holy Scripture often are, there are spaces in this reading that are uncomfortable, pointing to the Jews who killed Jesus and drove out the Christians, and God’s wrath being showered upon them for their sins. This does put a damper on the joy and gratitude, as I reflect on scripture – and so, I will embrace it, rather than ignore it. In truth, Jesus was put to death as an enemy of the Roman state by the Roman establishment, and it was in conjunction with tensions among Hebrew scholars and priests. There have been people across time who have not listened to prophets and sent them running out of the city.

Our faith journeys usually take us over bumpy roads. There are conflicts, and it is hard to merge and share space. And yet, we get to honor and give thanks to God for the people along our journeys who have made these adventures rich and meaningful – for these are the ones who bring us hope and joy. I pray that you will take time today to reflect and give thanks!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection



Who is someone who has spoken a truth to you, and opened your eyes in a new way?

Can you think of a time you have done that for someone else? How was it received?

Daily Challenge

Put into words (spoken or written) an aspect of your faith in God that brings you hope. Think of people who have helped you in that piece of your faith journey – either building you up or challenging you. Sit in prayer, giving thanks to God for those people. Tell someone else a story of your gratitude, and how your faith has been shaped.

Sharing Our Selves - December 1

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 5, 6; PM Psalm 10, 11; Isa. 1:21-31; 1 Thess. 2:1-12; Luke 20:9-18

Today’s Reflection

But we were gentle among you, like a nurse tenderly caring for her own children. So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us.  –1 Thessalonians 2: 7-8

As a seminary student, looking for a place where I could fulfill our seminary’s “ministry across cultures” requirement, I came across St. Francis at The Engine Room, a brand-new church in Tottenham Hale in the Diocese of London. Though we had no prior connections, I emailed the missioner there, Father Andrew Williams, who agreed to host me and let me shadow him and his colleagues there for a couple of weeks in June 2018.

Tottenham is best known to people here in the U.S. for its football team, Tottenham Hotspur. What drew me there, though, is the fact that it is the most diverse postcode in the UK in terms of race and ethnicity. Some 180 languages are spoken in Haringey borough, where Tottenham is located. Wages there are 20 percent less than elsewhere in London, while housing costs have doubled in the past decade. Related to this, Tottenham is a community with a history of racial tensions, especially between police and residents, with race riots in 1985 and then again in 2011.

Following the 2011 incident, the London City Mission ministry decided to commit resources to the community, and eventually this became a partnership with the Diocese of London to plant a church as part of a planned residential and retail development, Tottenham Hale, with its mix of subsidized housing, student housing, standard flats, and luxury condos. The Diocese of London saw an opportunity to build a church—their first new construction in 40 years—that could embody a new model of being the church and doing life in the midst of this diverse and changing community.

The Engine Room was purpose-built to be a community centre that also is home to St. Francis Church, moving into its own space in October 2017 (after leasing other space for a few years prior). In the 10 days I spent there, The Engine Room not only held its Sunday morning Eucharistic service, but also opened its space for an after-school art workshop, ambulance cadets training for tweens and teens, Messy Play for toddlers and their parents, leadership classes for a group of young adults from Italy, family birthday parties, and a festive marriage blessing for a very extended Nigerian family. They also lease space to a nursery school and a café, realizing how these enterprises add to the life of the community.

Besides inviting people in, church members and staff are intentional in how they cultivate relationships by being out in the community. In the week I visited, The Engine Room held two “pop-up cafes” across the road in the Ferry Lane Estate, which is a public housing neighbourhood. On a Sunday afternoon, they joined with other community groups for an Eco-Fest at Ferry Lane Park, setting up a table under an open-air gazebo tent to offer homemade cake and brownies with coffee, tea, lemonade, and conversation.

These pop-ups were the way that the London City Mission and Diocese of London began their presence in Tottenham Hale, long before a dedicated Engine Room came to be. Though the Engine Room now has its own shiny, brand-new space, it is important that the Engine Room continues its tradition of taking friendship and food out into the community such as through its pop-ups at Ferry Lane Estate. These pop-ups are the essence of who St. Francis at The Engine Room is in the Tottenham Hale community.

Then, on Thursday afternoons, they bring these snacks and drinks along with board games and arts and crafts supplies to host an afterschool drop-in for primary school students and their parents. As I sat at a table sharing snacks and coloring alongside several children as they colored and made bracelets, conversation unfolded effortlessly across differences in age, nationality, religion, and ethnicity. At the counter, other volunteers offered snacks and drinks. The priest-missioner spent time with some of the parents. Being with people in the context of their community shares hospitality, builds trust, and cultivates relationships just by virtue of being consistently present. 

Reading our passage for today from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians brought to mind these memories of the Engine Room. The people of St. Francis Church and the Engine Room community centre are “gentle among” their Tottenham neighbours. Like the Apostle Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy amongst the Thessalonians, they are dedicated to sharing not just the Good News of Christ, but also their very selves: “So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us.” When we share our time and our stories with others, friendships form, and lives change.

Questions for Self-Reflection

How do you share yourself with other people?

How is sharing yourself connected with sharing the love of Jesus?

Daily Challenge

Think of your daily routine, where you go and who you encounter in your community on a regular basis. Who do you cross paths with regularly that you could make more of an effort to get to know and share yourself with?

Searching for Humor and Joy - November 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7; Isa. 1:10-20; 1 Thess. 1:1-10; Luke 20:1-8

Several years ago, when I was a youth minister, I would take our youth Confirmation class on retreat.  We would spend Friday night having a chance to ask questions about faith, but really it was about bonding.  Every year I would end Friday night by requiring the Confirmation class to watch some important 80s movie that I was sure they had missed such as Labyrinth (starring David Bowie), Rad (starring Lori Laughlin), or Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (starring Keanu Reaves). There was often a fair amount of resistance because these young people, born anywhere from 1987-1995 believed that nothing meaningful nor humorous could come out of the 80s with the slight exception of some of the very own lives. In my last year as Youth Minister, the Confirmation class finally convinced me to watch a 90s movie (Cool Runnings) because they had also missed the 90s and that seemed more relevant and a worthwhile concession. 

One of the years, the group was especially rowdy, and the other adults and I were having a tough time getting everyone to go to sleep.  The boys had the top floor of Sander’s lodge, the girls were directly underneath, and the adults were on the other side of the small building.  The girls kept complaining that the boys were jumping up and down and they couldn’t get to sleep.  I was losing whatever patience I had built up and finally at 1:00am, I marched upstairs to unleash my youth minister vengeance. 

The lights went on as I shouted, “Everyone, grab your Books of Common Prayer!  We are going to read the Psalms until you fall asleep!”  To my surprise, they grabbed Prayer Books (a benefit of being at an Episcopal Conference Center) and the guys opened to page 585, where the Psalms begin.  “Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor lingered in the ways of sinners, nor sat in the seats of the scornful!”  Later the Psalmist continues “It is not so with the wicked; they are like the chaff which the wind blows away… For the LORD knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked is doomed.”  At this point, one of the young men, Shelton, just starts laughing.  And then someone else starts laughing, then I begin laughing, and someone drops their Prayerbook and I am brought down to planet earth.  “John, it’s all good.  We will go to sleep now, and tomorrow will be awesome.  Thanks for making us laugh!”

I can’t read the first Psalm without this memory coming rushing back.  Oh, the ways of the wicked will be doomed! It’s a reminder to me of the power of laughter to diffuse nearly every situation.  Here is the thing, when we begin to act as God’s arbitrator of who is wicked (or righteous) we are humbled.  Isn’t that the whole purpose of God, to leave that role to someone else so that we can be free to find joy and meaning in life instead?  At the very least, we will find a little humor and God knows we need more of that. 

Yesterday marked a brand-new Church year.  It is the first Monday of Advent and a chance to start over.  For the four weeks of Advent, I am committing to searching for humor and joy instead of judgment.  Have you too considered a practice for the coming weeks of Advent?  What will your practice be?

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Does the season of Advent bring more stress and judgement into your life or does it bring you joy?  Do you do something special for the season of Advent?  How does that help you prepare for Christmas? 

Daily Challenge:  Pick a practice for the next four weeks.  Maybe it is lighting an Advent Wreath daily and saying a prayer for someone else. Here is an Advent calendar around kindness.

Seek out and Save - November 25

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 119:145-176; PM Psalm 128, 129, 130, Zech. 12:1-10; Eph. 1:3-14; Luke 19:1-10

I know the story of Zaccheus so well. I have heard it for most of my life. And today, a new line stuck out – it was one of those summary statements that ties a bow on actions and messages laid out previously. Zaccheus has his moment of public repentance; he pledges to give away half of his possessions to those in need – for he has obtained them through ill-gotten gains - and promises to repay those from whom he had wrongly charged for his own benefit, and for the benefit of the Roman overlords in power. Jesus accepts his contrite heart and proclaims a type of absolution: “Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham.” Lovely, right? This moment of conversion and reconnection is moving.

Then Jesus says this: “For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.” When I read these words, they are so obvious, and yet bring me to a space of gratitude and compassion. I think about Jesus searching for each of us in our times of being covered up in pain. Covered up in fear. Covered up in anger. Covered up in self-righteousness. Covered up in loneliness. I feel a sense of relief and comfort re-hearing this message from Luke’s gospel: Jesus came not just to find us in those places of sin and vulnerability, but to also save us from that brokenness and to reconnect us to our heritage as children of God’s promise. Jesus came to restore our sense of belonging, not to the systems and sinfulness of human construction, but to the grace and wonder of God’s whole creation.

Yesterday I saw a video of Abigail and Sean Bengson, musicians currently living in Dayton, Ohio, though they call Louisville, Kentucky their home. They recorded a piece called “The Keep Going Song”. As he plays the guitar and she sings, they express the goal of helping listeners feel a little less alone in our loss and isolation. She asks “Are you alright, are you okay? Are you alright, are you okay?” in a way that invites listeners to be vulnerable and unearth our big feelings that we tend to cover up to cope. In an interview, Abigail and Sean shared that their work melding chaos and inspiration into the beautiful product of music comes from a prayerful place – not to solve problems neatly, but to move into a space of transformation.

As you enter this holiday weekend, whether you are alone or with others, I pray that you hold on to memories of better times, and see the blessings that God is placing around you right now. Hold fast to the truth: Jesus came to seek out and to save the lost. Let us pray for one another – and all who feel lost. Let us pray that each of us may catch a glimpse of God’s grace and wonder. And when we do, we’ll feel a little less alone and we’ll be together.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What brokenness covers you up right now? When have you felt a sense of restoration after facing a time of brokenness and pain?

Who do you pray for, and who prays for you? 

Daily Challenge 

As you pray the Confession of Sin today, think about the witness of Zaccheus and how Jesus welcomed him. Think about what turning your heart over fully to God looks like, and try it.

Home Improvements with Jesus - November 24

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm [120], 121, 122, 123; PM Psalm 124, 125, 126, [127], Zech. 11:4-17; 1 Cor. 3:10-23; Luke 18:31-43

“Each builder must choose with care how to build on it.” (1 Cor. 3:10)

My dad was an architect. He would wake up in the darkness and quiet of the morning before the rest of us and sit at our round, wrought iron kitchen table in his blue bathrobe. It was the only time of the day that there was peace and quiet in our house. Dad would sip coffee, smoke cigarettes, and write on a yellow legal pad, doodling lists and ideas for renovations to our house, landscape designs, or other drawings. I can still remember his drawings of options for crown molding to install in our dining room and formal living room. His eye was on details that brought beauty.

In the house we lived in, there was much left undone, which I am sure got overwhelming to my dad and mom. They bought the house in Old Cloverdale in 1978, knowing it needed updates. Projects were completed little by little, in the evening after work or on the weekends. Very little was outsourced. With care and tenderness, my dad chose what to renovate, revise, and restore. That work did not go quickly or easily. I have not been back inside my childhood home since we sold it in 2004, so I cannot see what remains of my dad’s vision and handiwork. I see the exterior of the house when I drive by on the rare occasion I am in Montgomery. It looks beautiful and well-maintained.

I sit here this morning with Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, reflecting on my childhood home and my dad’s engagement as a builder. I think about growing up in that lovely, cavernous house, that was always in the process of being refined. And then my mind moves to what is behind Paul’s metaphor: one’s spirituality in relation to God. What does my spiritual edifice look like? How well-secured am I to the foundation that is Jesus? What projects am I prayerfully considering to renovate aspects of God’s temple within me? Which areas are in need of re-visioning? Which areas are primed and waiting for a new wall color or floor covering? What needs sanding and refinishing? What areas am I avoiding, and why?

I can sit in that reflective posture for a moment and some responses come up immediately for me. In all honesty, I also feel the pushback and reality of 2020: there are times this year that I have felt in a space of perpetual spiritual waiting or feeling stalled out, because I don’t have the resources or time to focus on spiritual growth. Like my dad, I am balancing marriage, children, vocation, and the strains of pandemic stressors. In other seasons of life, obstacles have included grief, loneliness, self-absorption, and other obstacles for intentional spiritual growth.

Regardless of the roadblocks and hardships, what I know and feel is that, while this year has tested the foundation of my faith – not through fire, but rather through fear, isolation, and loss – the ups and downs of this year have, in Paul’s words, tested “what sort of work each has done” (v. 13). The undulations and stressors of 2020 reveal what work there is still to do within me, too. I inhale a deep breath to slow down and take comfort knowing that the foundation of Jesus Christ doesn’t shift or change. Jesus is steady. Jesus is patient. Jesus is present.

Today’s invitation for us is to be attentive. Rather than listing every minutia that must be accomplished to beautify our faith journey, we get to take stock of the connection points to our foundation. Note what practices and people reveal how we are grounded in God. Give thanks for those spaces of stasis, that are undoubtedly surrounded by much more that is fluid and dynamic. Finally, lean into the hopefulness that God is not finished with any of us, and our work as builders – even if we’re stalled out – is not a task done in isolation. Thanks be to God.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

In thinking of spiritual growth as a home renovation project, how does that resonate with you? Do you feel intimidated or overwhelmed, up to the task or already halfway there?

What is an obstacle to spiritual growth for you?

Daily Challenge

There are many spiritual disciplines to examine and deepen your faith in God. This week, try to adopt the posture of gratitude. Take stock of the gifts and mercies present for you. Be mindful of the good, and note how this awareness reconnects you to realities (and relatives) outside of yourself.

Being open to Change - November 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 106:1-18; PM Psalm 106:19-48; Zech. 10:1-12; Gal. 6:1-10; Luke 18:15-30

These last few years, I have adopted a new preaching style.  I don’t know if it is better or worse than before, but it is different.  In my first several years as a priest, I always treated the text as something to figure out.  How could I unlock what made no sense for people or turn challenging words into hopeful words?  I would sit at my desk at the Church of the Annunciation, read commentaries, and articles until I found the missing puzzle piece.  This following Jesus thing is tough, and my approach was to try to be clever enough to solve a problem in order to make a sermon work and solve the theological mysteries of the universe.

Lately, I have abandoned that for a more ‘from the heart’ approach.  I will admit, my scholarship isn’t as strong as it once was, although I spend more time writing, reflecting, and preaching than ever before. But I was reminded of my craftiness when I read today’s Gospel passage when Jesus reminds the wealthy person that it “is easier for a camel to go through an eye of a needle than a rich person to enter heaven.”  I remember how important it was for me to learn that the eye of the needle could have been translated to be a gate in Jerusalem that still would have been difficult for a camel to pass through but much more possible than the eye of a sewing needle.  The point is, I had to find a way to solve the text so that it wasn’t nearly as difficult to stomach as before.  

I wonder if this is common, to focus so much on what to believe and what not to believe to the point that it is destructive to our own spiritual wellbeing. It is like we are trying to prove to God that our beliefs are alright without actually haven’t to change anything about how we live or be. Last week, in our young adult Bible study, we stopped for quite a while to reflect on this passage from a book we are reading by Richard Rohr.  Here Rohr is showing the limitations of belief: 

“For example, insisting on a literal belief in the virgin birth of Jesus is very good theological symbolism, but unless it translates into a spirituality of interior poverty, readiness to conceive, and human vulnerability, it is largely a “mere lesson memorized” as Isaiah puts it (29:13). It “saves” no one. Likewise, an intellectual belief that Jesus rose from the dead is a good start, but until you are struck by the realization that the crucified and risen Jesus is a parable about the journey of all humans, and even the universe, it is a rather harmless—if not harmful—belief that will leave you and the world largely unchanged.”[1]

In Jesus’ dialogue, he is offering the wealthy young man eternal life.  The man has done everything according to the laws and the rules.  He has essentially, ‘believed’ what he needed to believe, but he wasn’t changed?  His belief did not lead to eternal life.  Underneath this reading, we are invited to ponder the same question, how is our life fundamentally different?  How does what we believe change who we are, how we live, and how we care for and love others? 

To change, we have to be open to the possibility.  We have to believe that our lives will be fundamentally different.  But this is why it is Good News.  Just as it was Good News for Peter, it is Good news for us too.  Let us be open to how God is working to transform not only the world but our own lives as well. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What beliefs of yours have changed over the years?  How has that changed who you are and how you exist in this world?  Have you altered your beliefs to keep you from having to change who you are?

Daily Challenge:  Pray the Serenity Prayer today.  Here is a link to the prayer which is often used with recovery groups.  

[1] Richard Rohr, The Universal Christ: How a Forgotten Reality Can Change Everything We See, Hope For, and Believe (Convergent: 2019), 114.

Does Prayer Change Anything? - November 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 107:33-43, 108:1-6(7-13); PM Psalm 33; Mal. 3:13-4:6; James 5:13-20; Luke 18:9-14

Today’s Reflection

Last year, I was hearing lots of positive buzz about a new book by Kate Bowler called Everything Happens for a Reason. Since I was looking for something new to read, and often struggle myself with the question of whether everything really does happen for a reason, I ordered a copy. I was relieved to see that the full title of the book is, in fact, Everything Happens for a Reason: And Other Lies I’ve Loved. I thought, “OK, good. This is a book by someone who, like me, wonders how there could possibly be a reason for some of the truly awful things we experience in this life, whether as individuals or as a society.

When I read the book for the first time, I finished it in just a few sittings (which, for me, is fast). Bowler’s conversational, self-deprecating, and humor-laced writing made me want to keep reading—even though the book is also incredibly sad at times. At multiple moments during that first read of her memoir, I found myself crying along with her as she recalled her story: of how she dealt with mysterious medical issues that made it impossible for her to use her hands for everyday things (including the writing of her doctoral dissertation); of struggling with infertility; and then, within a couple years of when she and her husband finally welcomed their baby boy into the world, learning that she had stage IV colon cancer—at age 33.

Reading of Bowler’s own spiritual grappling with these excruciatingly difficult life events—wondering why this was happening and how she could hold onto her hope and belief in God through these trials—made me ponder those questions alongside her. As Bowler reflects, “Every day I prayed the same prayer: God, save me. Save me. Save me. Oh, God, remember my baby boy. Remember my son and my husband before you return me to ashes. Before they walk this earth alone. I plead with a God of Maybe, who may or may not let me collect more years. It is a God I love, and a God that breaks my heart.” Living vicariously through Bowler’s experiences made me reflect on and cry over life struggles I (and those close to me) have experienced, troubles that do not seem to be for any good reason.

This fall, a group of us met (virtually) on Wednesday evenings to share conversations about this book. And one of the themes we talked about a lot—because Bowler writes about it a lot—is the question of why bad things happen to good people. Bowler, as a Duke Divinity School professor whose research agenda is focused on the prosperity gospel, has a lot to say about this. Over the years, Bowler has spent much time observing and talking with those who ascribe to the belief that if you are “right with God,” then no harm will touch your life, that you will only experience blessings—only health, wealth, and success. They believe that if you are living as God would have you to live, then God will give you what you ask for—kind of like how children believe that if you are especially good all year long, then Santa Claus will bring you all the toys on your Christmas list.

Today’s reading from James 5 leads me to continue to reflect on the nature of our relationship with God, especially on how and why we pray. This verse, “The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective” (James 5:16b) is a verse commonly used by those with prosperity gospel-type worldviews as a proof text for their belief that God will answer the prayers of those who are “right with” him. However, as is often the case with cherry-picking the scriptures, this leads to a shallow understanding of what God is saying to us through scripture. Just because Elijah prayed for it not to rain, then for it to rain again, and got the answer he was asking for each time doesn’t mean that our prayers are going to be answered that way!

Instead, the deeper message about prayer that I take away from James 5 is this: James is telling the believers among the house churches of Jerusalem—as well as we who read his words today—that prayer is a good and powerful thing. God wants us to pray. And, perhaps the most important thing we learn in this passage is this: God wants us to always be praying for one another: “Are any among you sick? They should call for the elders of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord. … Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective” (James 5:14-16).

Prayer is powerful and effective because it brings us together in faith with other believers—and with God. Prayer changes how we see ourselves in relationship to God, other people, and our own circumstances. The point of prayer is not to change situations. The point of prayer is that through it we ourselves are changed.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

How does praying for someone change the way you see that person? And does it change the way you see yourself in relationship to that person?

Daily Challenge

Ask God to place three particular people on your heart that you should be praying for over the next week. Commit to pray for each person at least once a day for the next week. At the end of the week, reflect on how God has changed you and your perspective on those individuals. And if it seems appropriate to do so, write them each a short note to let them know you have been thinking of them and praying for them.

Sanitized, Refined, and Purified - November 20

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; Mal. 3:1-12; James 5:7-12; Luke 18:1-8

Today’s Reflection

“But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap; he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness.” –Malachi 3: 2-3

It’s safe to say that many of us have spent more time this year thinking about what it takes to make something pure and clean than we ever have before. The nature of living in a pandemic, trying to avoid contracting a virus that spreads easily from person to person, has forced us to think much more about what it takes it make our surroundings clean. Back in the spring, I remember hearing how people left their grocery bags to sit out in their garage for a while before bringing the items into the house—eventually, the items would be brought inside and wiped down before being put away. I never went quite that far in my quest to keep things virus-free, but I can understand why some took up this practice.

At the church, we have many cleaning procedures in place meant to keep things as safe and sanitized as possible. After the Parish Hall and Nave are used for in-person worship, our cleaning crew comes through to sanitize all the surfaces with a disinfectant sprayer and then wipe down the surfaces. And, if you watched the Rite of Confirmation on November 8, you may have noticed that my role as priest was to be the bearer of the disinfecting wipes. I stood next to the bishop so that, after each confirmand used the prayer kneeler, I could wipe the wooden top and sides clean before the next confirmand touched it.

Some, especially those in healthcare professions, are very careful when they come home at the end of a long day to take off their work clothes and shoes, then shower and change into new clothes before they do anything else. In our own house, we are more likely to use the sanitize mode when wash our dishes and dry our clothes. And we’ve definitely gone through much, much more soap, detergent, and hand-sanitizing supplies than we ever have before.

In today’s reading from Malachi 3, we hear him announcing the messenger that God is sending to prepare his way. And Malachi tells us that standing before this messenger will not be easy, for when he comes to purify God’s people, “he will be like a refiner’s fire and like fuller’s soap” (3: 2). Back in Malachi’s day, these references would have been more familiar to people. In order for gold and silver to refined, to be formed into something useful and beautiful, they first must be placed into extremely high heat. Likewise, in order for sheep’s wool to be made into yarn and cloth, it must first be cleaned with an extremely harsh soap by the fuller—only then will it be clean enough and soft enough to craft into the woolen items that keep us warm, dry, and comfortable.

The message God was speaking through Malachi was made more clear to them through these analogies with the processes of refining the raw materials of metal and wool into items crafted with care by artisans—finished items that made life easier and more comfortable, and even more beautiful. The idea is that going through harsh conditions or circumstances—not unlike blazing fire or harsh soap—is necessary to change something (or someone) from raw and unfinished into something (or someone) exhibiting greater strength, purity, and beauty.

Ultimately, though we may go through times of trial that can serve to refine and perfect our faith, God did send us Jesus the Son of God, who by his life, death, and resurrection has already purified us from all sin. As much as we may be drawn into thinking that we can make ourselves and our surroundings perfect and free from impurities, it is God who makes us clean spiritually. In a world full of anxiety about those things which may contaminate our sense of security and self, I find it comforting to know that I am already refined and purified through what Christ has accomplished in his suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Can you recall a time of trial when you felt like you were being refined by fire? Looking back on the situation, does it seem like you came through it stronger or wiser than you were before? Why or why not?

Daily Challenge

Think of an area in your life in which you may feel anxiety that you are not enough—not perfect enough, not pure enough, not refined enough. Through your times of prayer and reflection this week, do what you can to release this concern into God’s hands, asking God to help you believe that you are enough, to believe that through Christ you are already clean and whole.

The Kingdom of God is like a Magic Eye Poster

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 105:1-22; PM Psalm 105:23-45; Mal. 2:1-16; James 4:13-5:6; Luke 17:20-37

When I was in middle school, I was fascinated by these pictures of dots where the untrained eye would see a random assortment of colors, but to those who could figure out how to let your eyes lose focus, a 3-D object would emerge.  I can still remember the first time I saw one.  It was the Oak Court Mall in Memphis, and my friends were able to decode the message. I was not as gifted and found myself becoming increasingly frustrated as I tried. I would stare and stare harder, and I just couldn’t figure it out.  I thought something was wrong with me, or that my friends might be playing some cruel joke. I walked away that day angry, and eager to return to solve the great mystery.

I have since learned that these images are called autostereograms and in order to allow a 3-D image to emerge, one must overcome the normal coordination between accommodation and horizontal vergence (how our eyes focus).  The mall was selling the popular Magic Eye books which were filled with these pictures and after way too much time going cross-eyed, I finally figured out how to let my eyes relax enough to see what was hidden beneath the dots.   Instantly, the book I was holding that was filled with pictures of random dots had become something entirely different.  Images of fish, boats, animals, and much more filled the pages and I was let in on the secret that my friends had held.

Jesus talks a lot about the Kingdom of God.  The disciples are bent on finding the Kingdom and today’s reading is a reminder that the Kingdom exists among us, we just might not be able to see it.  I have been trying to digest less news for my own mental health.  The stories of despair and angst in our country, in the world, and in our communities can be too much to handle if we cannot disengage from the news cycle for rest, encouragement, and renewal.  Sometimes I wonder if we focus on news and getting everything right just like we are staring at an autostereogram, trying to crack the code, but so hyper focused that we miss the bigger picture.

One of the blessings of my role as a clergy person is getting to see light and hope breaking through in this world as people share the Good News with me.  We are surrounded by people who are trying at the very core to fill this world with God’s love.  I get emails daily from people looking to help others and finding ways of making the world brighter.  I watch the way people respond to pastoral care concerns in our community, or strive to serve our neighbors, or reach out to friends and strangers when they are in need. When we don’t focus on despair, it becomes much easier to allow the stories of hope and resurrection to rise to the surface.  Maybe the Kingdom of God is like a Magic Eye book and we just need to learn to see it breaking through in all aspects of our life.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What stories of hope have you learned about recently in your daily life? 

Daily Challenge:  Spend some time looking for stories of hope and resurrection in your community that involves someone you know. Write an email or note of encouragement or thanksgiving for that person.

A rash of bad attitude - November 18

Today’s Readings:  Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144 Mal. 1:1,6-14; James 3:13-4:12; Luke 17:11-19

The shorter amounts of daylight are quite irksome to me. The sun sets so early, and it is pitch-black dark. I love to go running, but our neighborhood is not well-lighted. I appreciate that there is not much light pollution, though it does impede my ability to go running after work. The other day, I got perturbed with all the complications of life in 2020 and was a “Negative Nancy,” naming and blaming all the ills limiting and weighing on me. “If only it would be light outside longer, then things would be easier,” I whined.

When I read Psalm 101 appointed for this morning, I think about my low point last week. A bit sheepish, I find that I am often falling short of the mark prescribed. What follows are my responses to the eight verses of the psalm:

1.     I think mercy and justice are good, and I don’t always sing praises to God; sometimes I whine at God instead.

2.     Some days I am too tired to strive, and my course is far from blameless; I storm with irritation in my house.

3.     I scroll through worthless social media memes to fill time, or read celebrity news.

4.     I can be hard-headed and stubborn, and my 9-year-old might sometimes say I am evil when I make her eat sweet potatoes.

5.     I don’t know our neighbors well, and I generally try to be kind, unless you speed down my street.

6.     I am glad that God determines what faithful and unfaithful looks like, and I will commit to being a servant, even though my life is far from blameless.

7.     I try not to be deceitful, and it is not a pretty sight in our house when someone tells a lie.

8.     I pray that I don’t fall into the wicked category. Getting rooted out would mean having to pack boxes, and that could take a while.

Now, I know that some of what I presented sounds a bit crass or even borders on disrespectful. The tone of this psalm, entitled in my Bible as “Commitment to executing justice”, is really judge-y: black and white, good and bad, favor and forbidden. It is easy to draw the line to say that one person is wicked and another is blessed. I know there are times and places in our society to name what is right and what is wrong. Yet, other parts of Holy Scripture call us into the grey area: “for [God] makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45).

My hope is that God’s grace is big enough to encompass and redeem my low points, and yours. My hope is that God’s love is unbridled enough to break through even the hardest of hearts, and turn all of our minds toward Jesus. Whether you are having a bout of stormy weather or a week of blue skies, know that you are one of God’s beloved children. God is big enough to receive your anger, or welcome your vulnerabilities and exhaustion. So, come as you are.  

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When do you need to have definitive boundaries? When have you realized the gift of grey areas?

Daily Challenge

Think of an area or issue in your life where you are longing for justice. For three minutes, meditate and pray about how God is calling you to wait in that space. Pray about how God’s mercy is at play as well. After that three minutes, spend one minute offering prayers of praise to God, as a companion with you in this struggle.        

Conscious Incompetence - November 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 97, 99, [100]; PM Psalm 94, [95]; Hab. 3:1-10(11-15)16-18; James 3:1-12; Luke 17:1-10

Today’s Reflection

“But no one can tame the tongue—a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so.” –James 3: 8-10

The Letter of James is believed by contemporary scholars to have been written by James the brother of Jesus—so not James son of Zebedee or James son of Alphaeus, but James the relative of Jesus (some think brother, others think cousin, but in any case, someone close to Jesus). This James, the one we know as James the Just, was considered to be the “bishop” of the early church in Jerusalem.

At the time that James was writing this letter (circa 55-100 CE) to be circulated amongst the house churches that together made up the early church in Jersualem, the people who gathered to worship in the Way of Jesus there were mainly Jewish. And so, it makes sense that the content of this letter is a compendium of exhortations that would fit in very well with the existing body of wisdom literature in the Jewish tradition—think of other such books in our canon, such as Proverbs and Sirach. William Brosend, professor of homiletics at Sewanee, notes that “the letter is filled with offhand references, parallels, and echoes of the sayings of Jesus, perhaps as many as 34. This suggests composition early in the tradition, before the sayings of Jesus were fixed and before the authors used formal citations.” So, the wisdom we find distilled in the James 3 passage we encounter today is likely wisdom on taming our tongues may sound a lot like what Jesus himself would have said to James and others in his circle of influence.

The focus of this passage is on how having command over our words is the key to keeping our whole selves away from sinfulness: “For all of us make many mistakes. Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect, able to keep the whole body in check with a bridle. If we put bits into the mouths of horses … we guide their whole bodies. Or look at ships: though they are so large that it takes strong winds to drive them, yet they are guided by a very small rudder” (James 3: 2-4).

If our ability to have control over what we say or do not say—having a filter, to use the current phraseology—is so important to our following the way of Christ (as evidenced by the amount of time spent on it in the Letter of James, and throughout our canon of scripture), how are we to go about this? Where do we begin in this quest for mastery over how we communicate in a godly way with the people we encounter each day?

This passage from James brought to mind for me a concept that students learn in classes like public speaking and interpersonal communication, which is the idea that there are four stages one must work through in learning any new skill. First, we go through the stage of unconscious incompetence, which is when we don’t even realize what it is we need to learn or improve. Depending on the person and skill, we may stay in this stage for longer than we would care to admit! Next, we enter the stage of conscious incompetence, which is to say that we are becoming aware of what it is we need to learn and that is important for us to put effort into acquiring it. At this stage, we may be making mistakes but learning from them as we are setting an intention toward growth and improvement.

Eventually, we move into the stage of conscious competence, which is when we have acquired cursory command of the desired skill, but we still have to make a conscious effort to do it. With speaking, for example, this would be when we realize that we need to pause and gather our thoughts before responding to something that in the past might have caused us to speak rashly or hurtfully. Finally, if we do not give up, we may eventually find that we have moved into unconscious competence. At this phase of development, which we come to only through practice over time, the desired skill—such as being more measured in what we say and how we say it—becomes something we don’t even have to think about anymore (at least most of the time). Having control over our words begins to feel natural, so much so that we may even be able to share that skill with others (even if just by example).

So, yes, we can tame the tongue! Most of us will have to make an effort in order to be more diplomatic and filtered in our speaking. But for now, let’s embrace our conscious incompetence with an eye toward one day being unconsciously competent!

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

In which relationships or interactions in your life do you find yourself regretting something you said (or did not say)? What is it about this relationship or context makes filtering what you say more of a challenge?

Daily Challenge

Think of one specific way in which you would like to gain more control over your words. Maybe you would like to say less and listen more in a certain relationship. Maybe you would like to not curse while driving in heavy traffic. Maybe you would like to not be so quick to make assumptions. Whatever you choose, try to be consciously aware of how you communicate in this way this week and reflect on ways you might change your habits or pattern.