Light Sabers and the Light of Christ – January 6

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 46, 97;  PM Psalm 96, 100; Isa. 52:7-10; Rev. 21:22-27; Matt. 12:14-21

On the twelfth day of Christmas, the godparents sent our kids two light sabers. Think Star Wars…Luke Skywalker…Yoda…The Force. These whimsical weapons are battery-powered and button-activated. One shines blue; the other shines green. And, they make noise. Pulling them out of the box, our five-year-old gasps with delight, “They gave me just what I wanted!” There is chasing, sparring, and general merriment around the living room and down the hallway. The light sabers’ radiating glow shines joy and wonder to our household.

And now, it is January 6, the Feast of the Epiphany – the day we celebrate the making known of Jesus the Messiah to the entire world. In the Christopher Wordsworth hymn “Songs of Thankfulness and Praise”, we sing of this beautiful mystery: God in man made manifest. God became present – embodied – with the world, meeting us in human form. The light of Christ is made apparent, and people are drawn to that light. In Matthew 2:1-12, we read of the bright star that shines and guides the way of the long-traveling magi (or the wisemen). When they see that the star has stopped, they are overwhelmed with joy. They are invited into the home of the holy family and kneel in front of the child Jesus and his mother Mary. The magi pay tribute to this one who is foretold to be the king of the Jews. Their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh are symbols of his royalty.

The glow and renown of Jesus continue to draw people to him – and to praise of the Lord. In the portion of Matthew 12 appointed for today, “many crowds followed him” (v. 15). Jesus heals all of them. Surely there are gasps of delight. Surely there is merriment and wonder. Surely those cured are beaming with the afterglow of holy refreshment. What a scene of joy to behold. What a space of good news and hope. Can you imagine it?

Across the experience of humanity, there is so much pain and loss. Holy Scripture reminds us that God’s power brings relief. We need that assurance that God is good and faithful; the imagery and encouragement in Isaiah 52 deliver that for us today:

How beautiful upon the mountains
   are the feet of the messenger who announces peace,
who brings good news,
   who announces salvation,
   who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’ (v. 7)

In this ancient proclamation, hard things are happening all around God’s people. Through the prophet, the Israelites are called to rely upon the Lord as their guide and source of hope, strength, and salvation.

Are you longing for healing and restoration today? Maybe you suffer from visceral pain in your soul or body. Perhaps there are insipid divisions in your family or work life. Or, you are troubled by toxic animosity in the world around you. Those spaces of darkness cannot withstand the light of Christ, announced to the entire world in the feast of The Epiphany. Jesus vanquishes the darkness and brings hope. Jesus delivers new life. Jesus brings a radiating glow that shines joy and wonder to all corners of the earth.

Let us bow down in gratitude, acknowledging God’s glory. Let us bask in the warmth of Jesus’ light. And may the Holy Spirit embolden us to share the Good News with everyone!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Where in your living space do you need more light? How have new lightbulbs or a different light fixture changed the feel of a room?

What good news brightened your day in the past week? Who do you know who is needing some good news and hope?

Daily Challenge 

Think of a source of light that brings you peace – a candle, nightlight, lamp, etc. Sit with that image of illumination. Pray for a feeling of peace and restoration. Give thanks to God for the gift of Jesus’ light in the darkness. Then, share words of Christ’s hope with someone around you.

So Great a Cloud of Witnesses - January 5

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 2, 110:1-5(6-7); Joshua 1:1-9; Heb. 11:32-12:2; John 15:1-16

Today’s Reflection

“Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect. Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with persistence the race that is set before us.” (Hebrews 11:39-12:2)

On July 29, 1974, eleven women were ordained to the priesthood at the Church of the Advocate in Philadelphia. Those eleven women, and it’s important that we take a moment to remember their names—Merrill Bittner, Alla Bozarth-Campbell, Alison Cheek, Emily Hewitt, Carter Heyward, Suzanne Hiatt, Marie Moorefield, Jeanette Piccard, Betty Schiess, Katrina Swanson, and Nancy Wittig—are now known in the history of the Episcopal Church as The Philadelphia Eleven. Even after the Eleven were ordained, they continued to face barriers to living into the ordained ministry to which they had been called. Because the General Convention of the Episcopal Church had not yet revised the wording of the church canons, many called their ordination invalid.

It wasn’t just these eleven women who I consider to be in the “great cloud of witnesses” that opened the door to women to be ordained as priests. Four bishops—Bishop Daniel Corrigan, Bishop Robert L. DeWitt, Bishop Edward R. Welles II, and Bishop Antonio Ramos—were willing to use their places of privilege to promote equal opportunity for women to serve not only as lay leaders and deacons, but also as priests in the Episcopal Church. At the time, Bishop Ramos noted that this ordination “stands as a prophetic witness on behalf of and for the oppressed.”

The preacher at the ordination service was the vice president of the House of Deputies, Dr. Charles Willie. “It was an unjust law of the state,” he said, “that demeaned the personhood of blacks by requiring them to move to the back of the bus, and it is an unjust law of the church which demeans women by denying them the opportunity to be professional priests.” A few weeks later, when the House of Bishops declared the women’s ordinations invalid, Willie resigned his post as vice president of the House of Deputies in protest, explaining, “In terms of religious values, I believe that love is the basic principle that should govern all social relations, that justice and equity are the manifestations of love in our daily activities, and that freedom is a necessary and essential condition for loving relationships, including those in church and society.”

Dr. Willie, as an African American man, was himself in a group long marginalized in the Episcopal Church as in the rest of U.S. society. I appreciate his prophetic witness, his willingness to stand up and be counted, his willingness to speak out against the “institutional sins” of the Episcopal Church in his time.

It doesn’t really make sense, when we look at it now, that the church would prevent people from fully living into their call to follow Christ and help others to do the same. It would take two more years before women’s access to all orders of ordained ministry would be approved by the General Convention in September 1976. And it would be thirteen more years until the first woman would be ordained a bishop in the U.S. Episcopal Church, when the Rt. Rev. Barbara Harris was ordained and consecrated as bishop suffragan of Massachusetts in 1989.

For the first 30-something years of my life, I was in other denominations where I, as a woman, felt constrained in how I could serve my church. Now, as an ordained priest in the Episcopal Church, I continue to be grateful for the great cloud of witnesses, not only the women who serve as lay leaders, deacons, priests, and bishops, but also for the great cloud of men and women who have supported all God’s people being able to fully live into their baptismal vows and, if called to do so, to prepare for ordination as well.

Many of the great cloud of witnesses who came before us, such as those whose stories I have shared with you here today, took risks, put themselves and their status and their livelihoods and even their lives on the line, so that others would have more equal opportunities to experience all the fullness of Christ. I pray that now, as a priest, I would be willing to take those risks and do the same for others.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Have you ever faced a barrier to something you felt you were meant to do? How did facing that barrier influence how you perceived yourself at the time? Did facing a barrier in your own life change the way you perceived the barriers faced by others?

Daily Challenge

You can read more about the Philadelphia Eleven in this Episcopal church press release from 1974, what they went on to do in their lives post-ordination, and of a reunion of those who remain with us today.

New Year's Advice - January 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 85, 87; PM Psalm 89:1-29; Exod. 3:1-12; Heb. 11:23-31; John 14:6-14

On December 29, 2013, American author, Janet Rebhan, offered some wisdom for the New Year.  I came across her words for the first time this past New Year’s Eve, and like any good advice for how to live, it is often timeless.  Her words resonate powerfully for me as we live into 2021: “In this new year, may you have a deep understanding of your true value and worth, an absolute faith in your unlimited potential, peace of mind in the midst of uncertainty, the confidence to let go when you need to, acceptance to replace your resistance, gratitude to open your heart, the strength to meet your challenges, great love to replace your fear, forgiveness and compassion for those who offend you, clear sight to see your best and true path, hope to dispel obscurity, the conviction to make your dreams come true, meaningful and rewarding synchronicities, dear friends who truly know and love you, a childlike trust in the benevolence of the universe, the humility to remain teachable, the wisdom to fully embrace your life exactly as it is, the understanding that every soul has its own course to follow, the discernment to recognize your own unique inner voice of truth, and the courage to learn to be still.”

I love her advice because it places our outlook and willingness to grow at the center of what we are to experience.  We have a choice – a choice to remain teachable, to have a ‘childlike trust in the benevolence of the universe,’ and the ability to listen to who we are as the people that God has created.   Regardless of what we are to face, the challenges, the hardships, the moments of wonder and awe, and everything between, we do have control of how we face what life throws at us.  While we can’t control what others will do, we can influence how we receive the world. 

I think this same idea resonates with the author of Hebrews who uses Moses’ faith as an example of our own agency, at least in how we can lean on our faith to embrace the challenges of the world.  Moses chooses ill-treatment with the people of God but is able to do so because of his faith.  It is the faith of Moses and his people that they are able to endure challenges such as the passing of the Red Sea, wandering in the desert and fleeing Egypt.

We have different hardships today, but we have a choice in how we embrace life.  My hope for this new year is that your faith will grow.  Maybe your faith will grow from reading our Daily Reflections, or your own study.  Or maybe through conversations with friends, family, or your church.  No matter what life brings, I hope you learn even more deeply to lean on your faith, and through your faith, we can all see the beauty and mystery of God’s love redeeming this world. Faith really does move mountains.  Happy New Year and I look forward to growing with each of you.

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: What New Year’s resolutions have you made?  How often do your resolutions last?  Why is that?  Are you overly ambitious or not ambitious enough?

Daily Challenge: Print a copy of Rebhan’s advice and put it in a place such as your wallet, purse, or desk and commit to reading it each morning for the next ten days.

The bold truth of Stephen – December 26

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 28, 30; 2 Chronicles 24:17-22; Acts 6:1-7; PM Psalm 118; Wisdom 4:7-15; Acts 7:59-8:8

During the season of Christmas excitement, my parents would turn on the record player. The sounds would fill our back living room, the cozy family space in the house where we had our Christmas tree. My sisters and I would dance, sing along, or play with our stuffed animals, trying to discern which wrapped presents contained our hoped-for gifts – and which were just pajamas. “Good King Wenceslas” by Bing Crosby is one of those standards that sticks in my head from those times. It was one of the few songs I enjoyed playing on the piano, for its jaunty tune and key progression were easy to remember (though I was never sure I was pronouncing Wenceslas correctly).

The history of the song tells us that Wenceslas was royalty from Bohemia (a region of modern-day Germany). He was the son of Charles IV, the Holy Roman Emperor in the 1300s. The song tells of an act of compassion: on the Feast of Stephen on a frosty, frozen night, the prince looked outside and saw a poor man who was hungry and in need. Wenceslas’ actions of folklore resemble those of Stephen, the first of the deacons and martyrs in Christian history.

In Acts today, we hear portions of Stephen’s story. There was tension in the proto-Christian community between the Greek and the Hebrew followers of the Way. Word on the street was that the holy people were not attending to the needs of the Greek widows who were hungry. Maybe they were overwhelmed. Maybe there was prejudice at play. Maybe they did not want to get their hands dirty. Whatever the case among these beautifully broken humans, God broke in, so that more might have a role in serving the causes of the Lord. Seven were appointed to attend to the temporal needs of the whole community. Stephen gets top billing – and for a reason.

When you read the entirety of Acts 6 and 7, you get a sense of Stephen’s passion, knowledge, and power, as he tapped into the gifts of the Holy Spirit through his ministry and proclamation of truth. He was full of grace and the power of God as he healed, fed the hungry, and preached the truth of God’s long-present call to faithfulness. Stephen also pointed to the lapses in faithfulness of the leaders of the Temple:

“You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you are for ever opposing the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors used to do. Which of the prophets did your ancestors not persecute? They killed those who foretold the coming of the Righteous One, and now you have become his betrayers and murderers. You are the ones that received the law as ordained by angels, and yet you have not kept it.” (Acts 7:51-53)

Stephen spoke God’s truth, and, unlike the lovely Wenceslas tune that heralds the Feast of Stephen, his words were not welcomed. He was stoned to death in the street.

And yet, as Christians, we follow in the footsteps of Stephen as a source of inspiration, and an example of what living into the life and ministry of Jesus looks like. We aspire to unabashed truth-telling. We aspire to compassionate care for the hungry. We yearn for the hope that in doing the work God calls us to do, we might be filled with grace and truth, like Stephen. And perhaps, some of you kind folks reading this reflection have worshipped at a parish that bears the name of this saint and martyr.

Living into the legacy of Saint Stephen, let us continue to understand and speak the truth, care for those in need, and share the love of God in all that we do.

Merry Christmas!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When has someone spoken truth to you and you felt uncomfortable? What effect did that have on you?

When have you shared truth with another and it was not well received? Would you do it again?

Daily Challenge

Read Acts 6 and 7. Reflect on Stephen's telling of the history of God's people. Listen for where you have been faithful. Where might you grow in Christ's light to continue serving those in need?

Angels, Shepherds, and the Work of Christmas - December 25

Today’s Readings: Isaiah 9:2-7; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-14(15-20); Psalm 96

Today’s Reflection

Not only did God come down to us in an unexpected way, as a baby born in the humblest of circumstances, but God also brought the good news of this in an unexpected way to an unexpected group of people. Jesus was born to a poor, small town couple, Mary and Joseph, living under the rule of an oppressive regime, the Roman Empire. The Romans ruled their vast empire through fear and intimidation. So, if the Roman governor said, “all the world should be registered” then you’d better believe “all went to their own towns to be registered.” If the Roman regime issued a decree, you followed it.

The shepherds, too, lived in these oppressive circumstances. And then combine that with the unexpectedness of being out in the fields in the darkness of the night with their sheep and being surprised by the bright light and loud voice of the angel of the Lord. When I hear Luke’s account of this, I picture some very fearful shepherds shaking in their sandals. The angel had to reassure them, “Do not be afraid.” Because people living in darkness and oppressed by authority needed reassurance. The angel of the Lord said to them: “I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day … a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.”

What was the shepherds’ response? As we hear in the Gospel of Luke: The shepherds “went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.” As Sarah Snyder, the Archbishop of Canterbury’s adviser for reconciliation, reflects:

“Imagine the shock of the shepherds when their desert peace was shattered by bright lights and heavenly voices. And their surprise when they heard the words of praise, proclaiming peace instead of the unrest they knew existed beyond their campfire. How did they respond? They left their flocks to seek Jesus… The angel of the Lord did not announce the arrival of Jesus to all the world. He chose a little group of shepherds huddled around a single campfire. Then and now, the message of peace was spread person to person. From the angels to the shepherds, to the people they met on their journey, and beyond” (In this Light: Thoughts for Christmas, pp. 34-35, Justin Welby et al.).

The shepherds’ response to the good news brought to them by the angel (or messenger) of the Lord was to go and share that message with everyone they encountered. If you heard such a miraculous message, and then saw and experienced for yourself that it was true by meeting Jesus yourself, wouldn’t you want to share that message, that message of Love coming down to us, with everyone you meet?

Each Christmas, we hear that same message. Each Christmas, we meet that same baby Jesus again, face to face. And each new day we live as people who know the love of Jesus in our hearts and in our lives, we experience daily the reality of the good news that God first shared with humankind through an angel appearing to lowly shepherds, watching over their flocks by night.

How can we, like the angel of the Lord, and like the shepherds, continue to share this “good news of great joy for all the people”? How can we be more like the shepherds—who “went with haste” to see Jesus, then “made known what had been told them,” and finally went back to their own community “glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen?” One answer is found in the words of a poem by the Reverend Dr. Howard Thurman, the eminent theologian, philosopher, civil rights leader, and mentor to the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Thurman’s poem is called “The Work of Christmas,” and these are fitting words to carry with us in our hearts and minds as we go forth this day and into the year to come:

When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone,

When the kings and princes are home,

When the shepherds are back with their flock,

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost,

To heal the broken,

To feed the hungry,

To release the prisoner,

To rebuild the nations,

To bring peace among others,

To make music in the heart.

 —Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

How can we continue to share this “good news of great joy for all the people”?

How can we be more like the shepherds—who “went with haste” to see Jesus, then “made known what had been told them,” and finally went back to their own community “glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen?”

Daily Challenge

Read more of how shepherds are depicted in the Bible and art or view the Visual Commentary on Scripture’s online exhibition of three painters’ visions of the adoration of the shepherds.

Staying where you are - December 24

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 45, 46; Isa. 29:13-24; Rev. 21:22-22:5; Luke 1:39-48a(48b-56)

Merry Christmas Eve!  Tonight, we will celebrate Christmas in a very beautiful way with our children’s pageant at 3pm which is filled with breathtaking cuteness and joy.  At 5pm we will have our service of Lessons and Carols.  I have included the links if you would like to join.  I have been waiting for this moment and this festive celebration for some time which is why I am puzzled by a part of the story that I haven’t paid much attention to before.

Today’s lessons include the Magnificat which is one of the most powerful descriptions of how Mary understands God.  Mary proclaims this beautiful song when she is with Elizabeth and Zechariah.  Elizabeth’s child leaps in the womb when he hears Mary’s voice.  It’s a beautiful story.  And then Mary sings, “My soul magnifies the Lord.”  She shares a vision of God scattering the proud and lifting up the lowly and filling the hungry with good things.  She acknowledges that the rich will be sent away empty.  It’s a powerful witness to how she understands God especially restoring and lifting up people in need. And so, we proclaim her song often in Morning Prayer, read usually at least once a week, if not more. 

But what has me puzzled is the reality that she remains with Elizabeth for about three months. Luke wants us to know this little fact.  Maybe it is odd to me because often, when we are armed with new information, filled with the Spirit, we are eager to proclaim it to the world, to break free, and yet Mary is there to be with Elizabeth for three more months.   Why?  The very next passage is about Elizabeth giving birth, and I assume Mary has gone home just before this so why the waiting?  Maybe that was all too much. 

Maybe its an invitation to embrace this moment.  As we have been longing for what is next, we are reminded once again that God’s love is here, not somewhere far off, but already in our midst.  The challenge is learning how not to rush to what is next. With Christmas this evening and the next, how can we hold onto this moment, at the very least for the entire season of Christmas?  How can we all learn to sit with God and God’s joy, even when we are anticipating what is next?  It’s been a challenging lesson this 2020 but God’s love is always with us.  Learning to lean on God’s love is a practice in patience and mindfulness but as challenges arise in the coming days, may Mary’s practice of staying where we are, shape our own.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Are you more of a “savor the moment” or “eager for what is next” kind of person? Any thought as to why?

Daily Challenge:  Make a list of ten things that you are grateful for this very moment.

"Everyone is just trying to get home" - December 23

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 111, 113; Isa. 28:9-22; Rev. 21:9-21; Luke 1:26-38

Our dear friend Hollie gave Sam (my husband) a book recently called The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse. Sam was moved by its invitation to reflection and vulnerability. After hearing the two of them extol its virtues, I pulled the book from the living room shelf the other day and read it. What I saw in this work by Charlie Mackesy was a little bit of Winnie the Pooh, a little bit of Proverbs, and beautifully messy illustrations, like life. Among the many sage one-liners within the pages of this lovely piece of art, what resonated with me this morning was a line from the mole, one of the four characters in this book. The mole says, “I think everyone is just trying to get home.”

The people in Isaiah were in exile, far from their native home. Everything was different. Even the priests and others faithful to Yahweh were weary and tired, out of God’s land and away from their place of comfort and rest. The prophet called out to the Hebrew people, prophesying to them to open their ears. What they heard was drivel and noise; the words did not make sense and they were not paying attention. Their faith had waned. Their home in exile was a space of discomfort and trial. Yet, God’s promise continued: a home in Zion with sure foundation and level stones.

There is a Christmas standard I usually hear during this time: “There’s no place like home for the holidays…” As we bear down on the final days of Advent, before the breaking forth of Christmas morning and the celebration of the birth of a long-promised baby named Jesus, I am wondering where the home of your heart is today. Do you feel conflict or tension with the home of others’ expectation? Said another way: do those around you understand what home means to you? Do your family or friends have other hopes and visions of what “home for the holidays” looks like? There are spaces of stress during Christmas leaving us feeling torn and expected in multiple places – and this year, with COVID-19 cases skyrocketing and hospitals diverting patients to other facilities, many families and friends are revising what homes they will visit during Christmas. Maybe you feel heartbroken that the homes and people of your holiday routine are disrupted and absent. Perhaps that leaves you relieved that you are staying at your own residence in peace. Or, due to loss or change, your current home is no longer a place you recognize or want to be. If, as the mole says, we are all trying to get home, where are you longing to be today?

Regardless of where you find yourself right now, know these two things: you are not alone and you are deeply loved by God. Saint Stephen’s is holding a service for The Longest Night tonight at 6:30 p.m. to honor those spaces of emptiness, loss, and disappointment that collide with the gaity of the Christmas season. I invite you read a short reflection on The Longest Night service, and then join us online on YouTube or Facebook to find rest and refreshment in music, prayer, a short sermon, and knowing that our virtual gathering is a real gathering in the presence and home of God.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection



Where is home for you today? Who is in that home with you? Who do you miss? Who brings you most peace in that space?

Daily Challenge

Take three minutes to breathe deeply and imagine a space of home with God. Imagine a space of completeness and perfection. Let go of the clutter that impedes your movement in that home. Feel gratitude for the beauty and oneness in that space. Now, open your eyes and reconnect with what is presently around you. Continue that space of gratitude of the home of now, and cling to the hope of that more perfect home, with God’s help.

Expecting the Unexpected - December 22

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 66, 67; PM Psalm 116, 117; Isa. 11:10-16; Rev. 20:11-21:8; Luke 1:5-25

Today’s Reflection

Advent is a season of expectation. It’s that liturgical season in which we recreate the original waiting for the Messiah—both the centuries of waiting by the people of Israel, as well as the months of waiting by Mary for her baby to be born. Oftentimes when we wait for or anticipate something or someone, we think we know what we are waiting for—but then sometimes we find that whatever or whomever we were expecting ends up not being what or who we were anticipating. When this happens enough times, we may even learn to expect the unexpected or to anticipate the unanticipated. But I have also found that when what I had been expecting unfolds differently, that oftentimes that different outcome ends up being even better than what I had anticipated.

While Matthew introduces us to John the Baptist when he was a grown man, out in the wilderness of Judea, if we look at Luke’s Gospel account, we learn much more about John’s parents and how John came to be. John’s father was Zechariah, a temple priest, and his mother Elizabeth, also from a priestly family, was a descendant of Aaron. As Luke describes, Zechariah and Elizabeth “were both righteous before God, living according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. But they had no child, because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years.” Elizabeth and Zechariah were at the point in life when they were no longer anticipating having children—they expected to continue as they were, a family of two.

So, imagine how unexpected it was for Zechariah, as he went into the inner sanctum of the temple to burn incense, to encounter an angel of the Lord. That’s unexpected enough, but then what the angel told Zechariah was even more unexpected: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John.” And not only that, but he learned from the angel that this as-yet-unborn son John “will be great before the Lord… and will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even from his mother’s womb. And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God.” And all that the angel said they should expect, as unexpected as it was, came to pass.

Several months later, when Elizabeth’s young cousin Mary came to stay with them, the baby in Elizabeth’s womb, whom we would later know as John the Baptist, “leaped” in Elizabeth’s womb. Baby John leapt in the presence of the other baby, the one in Mary’s womb, Jesus—and by this sign Elizabeth recognized that her cousin, Mary, was the theotokos, or the God-bearer. What could be more unexpected than that—that the long-anticipated Messiah would come to the people of Israel as a baby born of a poor young woman from Nazareth in Galilee.

Elizabeth and Zechariah’s baby, John, “grew and became strong in spirit” (1:80). Rough around the edges, John did not proclaim a gentle or easy-to-digest Gospel. This is consistent with the way he presented himself visually as well. As Luke describes later, “Now John wore a garment of camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey.” That the coming of the long-expected Messiah, whose sandals John said he was not worthy to carry, would be heralded by this rough sounding, poor man of the desert, may have seemed unexpected. Surely the coming Messiah would be expected to be heralded by someone of higher social standing, someone with more polished appearance and demeanor.

And yet, the one preparing the way for the Lord was John—an unexpected son who became an unexpected prophet of a much-anticipated Messiah. Looking back from our vantage point now, John makes senses as Jesus’ precursor, because Jesus, too, was a most unexpected child who grew into a man who would save the world in a most unexpected way, giving up himself for our sake.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Think of something that has happened in your life, whether momentous or mundane, that has not gone to plan. What had been your expectation of how it would go? How did this event actually unfold? Reflect on how you navigated and made sense of the difference between reality and your expectations at that time. Then reflect on how you make sense of it all looking back now. What do you think you learned?

Daily Challenge

Take a few minutes to learn more about who Elizabeth was and how the experience of “barrenness” is often portrayed in Scripture as “a harbinger of the miraculous birth of a divinely chosen male leader.” Or take a look at the Visual Commentary on Scripture to see three artists’ depictions of Elizabeth with her cousin Mary.

Living in Harmony - December 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 61, 62; PM Psalm 112, 115; Isa. 11:1-9; Rev. 20:1-10; John 5:30-47

When Ruth Bader Ginsburg died a few months ago, one of the most popular stories shared on social media was about her deep and abiding friendship with fellow Supreme Court justice, Anthony Scalia.  I remember one of the headlines in USA Today, which included the phrase, “the unlikely friendship.”  The article, and many others, assumed that in this time of bitter partisan hostility, that people with drastically competing views shouldn’t (or couldn’t) be friends.  I’ll admit, I found this story especially comforting as well, a reminder that humanity is not held by an ideological silo. 

One of the views that I struggle with is advocating for our wonderful nation to be specifically a Christian nation. Many people refer to this as Christian nationalism. This might seem odd as a priest.  It is my identity to not only follow Jesus but to lead people to God’s radical way of love in Jesus Christ. And I do believe that if more people committed themselves to the life-giving way of Jesus Christ, our country would be an infinitely more loving and whole place.  But I struggle with the notion that we must universally conform to that character or ideal.  That should instead be the individual work of all of us who have proclaimed in our Baptism to commit to sharing by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. 

In today’s Old Testament passage, we hear the famous lines from Isaiah of the promise of the reign of God.  Isaiah uses some powerful imagery when he writes, “the wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie die down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them” (11:6).  My favorite reminder continues in verse 9, “they will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.” It’s not surprising that Isaiah doesn’t imagine the kingdom of heaven as a place filled only with lambs and kids.  Instead, it is a place where the cow and bear, the nursing child and the asp can live in harmony.

The real Gift that we come to expect at Christmas is the mystery of God’s incarnation being recognized in all of creation. Just as Isaiah writes, the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD. The God that dwells with us, is still here among us, in a person and creature we meet.  We just need to learn how to see it (knowledge).  If Isaiah’s prophecy is to be fulfilled, all then that is necessary for the reign of God is learning to live together in harmony.  This year (and arguably every other year) has taught us just how difficult that can be. There will always be lions and calves, wolves and lambs, leopards and kids.  There will always be humans who see the world differently, but we are all children of God, and the kingdom invites us into living in harmony together.  Could it really be a simple as seeing God’s Incarnation in each other?

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Who do you struggle to imagine living in harmony with?  What steps could you take to change that?  Who do you identify within the passage from Isaiah?

Daily Challenge:   Go deeper by researching stories of radical forgiveness.  One incredible account has been the people of Rwanda choosing radical forgiveness after the genocide against the Tutsi’s 26 years ago.  Here is a starting place.

Dreams for the present and future – December 19

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23); Isa. 10:20-27; Jude 17-25; Luke 3:1-9

Several friends have welcomed new babies in this last quarter of 2020. As I see photos of these darling bundles of soft skin and squeaky grunts, there are parents in the wings who are simultaneously thrilled, confused, and overwhelmed. Whether or not you’ve raised children of your own, we all have a common connection here: we were all once those tiny people, vulnerable and fully reliant on someone else to raise us. Someone gazed upon you with a loving countenance and said our name. They spoke hopes for your future. They wondered what you would become. What do you know of those hopes and dreams others held for you?

And now, you are grown. Perhaps you have children in your life today and wonder what life will be like for them as they grow. Maybe you pray for those children to be smart and kind, healthy and accomplished, courageous and happy. What of those hopes and prayers do you write down or share with that child as she matures?

We hear the hopes of one child when we read Canticle 16 during Morning Prayer (page 92 in the Book of Common Prayer). This is called the Song of Zechariah and is a prophetic vision from the book of Luke (1:67-79). Zechariah was a priest of advanced age. He and his wife Elizabeth had no children, until one day when they were visited by an angel, who forecast the impact their child-to-come would make on Israel. Elizabeth did have a child, and they named the baby John. When the boy was eight days old, Zechariah had a moment of divine inspiration and proclaimed a prophecy about God and the path his son would take. John would be called a prophet of God, for he would “go before the Lord to prepare his ways”. He would open people’s minds to the saving grace of the Lord through calling them to repent and be forgiven for their sins. And always with God’s help, light would shine on “those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death” and “guide our feet into the way of peace”.

Whew! That’s a tall order and high bar set for a baby boy…and yet, in Luke 3 today, that is exactly what we hear happening. Amid the esteem of earthly powers laid out, the author writes that the word of God came to John son of Zechariah. He proclaimed “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” – and not just to get right with Yahweh and neighbors, but for a bigger purpose: to prepare the way of the Lord. John recited prophecy from Isaiah to open the ears and hearts of those around him. He confronted people brusquely, that the ceremonial baptism they might be seeking was much more than that. God was calling for transformed lives, and for Israelites to bear good fruit – of care of the needy, of humility before God, and dedication to leaving behind the darkness to live in the light of salvation.

God’s work is not yet complete in you or me. The hopes and prayers of those who raised us, and of God who loves us, are still present. Whether or not your approach is like the firebrand John the Baptist, let us each pray about our role in making the path straight for the Lord. What in our lives needs redeeming? What stumbling blocks are littering the path of our relationships with God? Now is the time to make that path straight…and the promise is God’s saving grace.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What hopes and dreams did your elders have for you? What are the hopes and dreams you have for a child in your life?

Daily Challenge

Write down what prayers, hopes, and dreams you have for a child in your life. Set them aside, so that as they grow older, they can one day read these special words from you.

How Long to Sing This Song? - December 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Isa. 10:5-19; 2 Pet. 2:17-22; Matt. 11:2-15

Today’s Reflection

Advent, as we often are reminded in this season, is about waiting. It is about anticipating. But what are we waiting for? What are we hoping for? In the Matthew passage appointed for today, we get a window into John the Baptist’s experience of anticipating the long-awaited Messiah. John, who has been jailed because of his prophetic witness, sends word to Jesus, and has his messengers ask him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” (11:3).

Jesus, who preferred to give more indirect answers, answers designed to make people think, sent this message back to John: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me” (11:4-6). All of which is to say, yes, I am the one is to come—the one who is to come is now here and look who I am surrounding myself with: the blind, the lame, the lepers, the dead, the poor. He has come first to the people who were last in line in the world. Jesus has come, and he has come first to the people who have been waiting for healing.

Waiting is a difficult posture, be it for John the Baptist or for the people who wondered whether this really was the person who they were waiting to prepare the way for the Lord. And waiting is difficult for us.

Part of why waiting is so difficult is that oftentimes we don’t have a clear vision of just what or whom we are waiting for. We just know that we are in a long period of “almost but not yet.” This is the prayer we hear in Psalm 40: the psalmist attesting that he has “waited patiently for the Lord” (40:1), but also pleading with God to “make haste to help me” (40:14) and to please “not tarry, O my God” (40:19). In other words, I waited patiently, but could you go ahead and hurry up and finish helping me out of this miry pit, God? We’ve all experienced these times of “almost but not yet.” We’ve all experienced waiting—whether waiting for something simple like a meal to be served or a concert to start, or perhaps we have waited (or are waiting) for something more momentous: waiting for a job, waiting for a baby, waiting for a diagnosis, waiting for a treatment, maybe even waiting for a miracle.

Lately, we have been doing a lot of collective waiting. Waiting until our quarantine period is over. Waiting to get the test results. Waiting for the numbers to go back down. Waiting for the schools to reopen—or to close again. Waiting until the vaccine is approved. Waiting until it is our turn to get the vaccine. Waiting until we don’t have to wear a mask anymore.

As a church, we are waiting to be able to worship together in-person again—without masks, while seated in a full pew in a full Nave. We are waiting to be able to give handshakes and share hugs. We are waiting to share bread and wine again up at the communion rail, without masks and silver tongs. We are waiting to be able sing a song of joy to the Lord when we are finally allowed to sing together again.

As we continue in this time of waiting, sometimes we will wait patiently and sometimes not so much. But as we continue to wait together, I offer you this more contemporary version of Psalm 40, U2’s “40.”

I waited patiently for the Lord.
He inclined and heard my cry.
He brought me up out of the pit
Out of the miry clay.

I will sing, sing a new song.
I will sing, sing a new song.
How long to sing this song?
How long to sing this song?
How long, how long, how long
How long to sing this song?

—Becky+

P.S. And for a great conversation about the Psalms between U2’s Bono and author Eugene Peterson, you can find it by clicking here.

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a time in your life when waiting for something was an extremely trying experience for you. What made that waiting so difficult? Looking back, how did you get through that time of waiting? What did you learn then that might help you continue in this collective time of waiting we are going through as a society and as a community here at Saint Stephen’s?

Daily Challenge

Read back over Psalm 40 and make it your prayer, weaving in your own intercessions about what you need God to help you wait patiently for today and as we continue in this long period of watching and waiting.

Speaking truth down by the river – December 17

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 33; Isa. 9:18-10:4; 2 Pet. 2:10b-16; Matt. 3:1-12

 The first audio CD I had was Jimmy Buffett’s “Fruitcakes”. It came out in 1994 and was a mixture of original songs and re-recordings of others’ work. Most Buffett fans I knew at the time were not impressed with this album, and the two songs released to the radio did not chart well. I, however, listened to this CD at least 100 times. Not only was it my first CD, but I loved the playful, bright, and catchy music. (I left for college not long after, so my poor roommate suffered the most, enduring those 13 tracks on repeat, every day!)

The title song, “Fruitcakes”, explores how human beings are flawed individuals to the core, asserting that the “cosmic bakers took us out of the oven a little too early”, and that is why we are all so “crazy”. Buffett provides examples from the world around him, from as mundane as upselling the big cups of carbonated beverages, to a critique of governmental spending…and then he moves on to religion and relationships. A lot of ground is covered in 7 minutes. Two lines from Jimmy Buffett’s stanza relationship dynamics keep running through my head this morning as I read about John the Baptist:

She said you gotta do your fair share // Now cough up half the rent

I treat my body like a temple // You treat yours like a tent

I can almost imagine John the Baptist, such a holy and austere man, who clearly did not shy away from conflict, taking a tone similar to these lyrics above, as he addressed the self-righteous and proud people (including the Sadducees and Pharisees) flocking to him at the river Jordan. If they were to take on the posture of humility and true repentance, there would be some serious changes required first. As Jimmy Buffett went point by point through a societal critique, so did John the wild baptizer, clothed in camel’s hair: He called them a brood (or family) of vipers. It was thought in antiquity that newborn snakes were so ruthless that they would bite through their mother’s stomach, killing her; John didn’t view the Pharisees and Sadducees much better. Addressing the inclination of the well-educated Pharisees to speak smoothly of faith without actions to follow, John stated that a repentant heart was evident in the fruit borne, not the words said. He continued: just because they claimed Abraham as their ancestor did not mean that they were more likely to be forgiven or more worthy in God’s eyes.

John punctuated his criticism of the proud by this: “Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” What a haunting reminder he hurled at them, for they knew the significance of trees. Trees represented the natural world and the work of the Creator, and every major character in the Bible has some tree associated with them. As John the Baptist pointed out the metaphorical axe that could level their legacy, I imagine the temple leaders taking a step back, making room for those truly seeking to confess wrongdoing and be washed anew.

As we continue cleaning out spaces in our hearts and minds, preparing to celebrate the birth of Jesus, perhaps it will not take the sharp condemnation of John the Baptizer to get your attention. Maybe it is with your own prayerful reflection that you can name those sins or pains that need to be offloaded onto God’s loving hands. Take time today to reflect on what is weighing you down, and shed that burden – so that it doesn’t take a dressing down by a wild person in camel’s hair to open your eyes. Whatever form your awakening takes, know that we are together on this journey to make the path straight as we prepare the way of the Lord.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you spoken sharp words to someone to get their attention? Did it work? When has someone done that for you? What would you change?

Daily Challenge

Is there a truth someone you love needs to hear? Are you able to impart that truth? Pray about it. John the Baptist's approach might (or might not) work for you. Listen for a way you might share that needed truth.

Casting light through the chaos - December 16

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; Isa. 9:8-17; 2 Pet. 2:1-10a; Mark  1:1-8

The verses of 2 Peter that precede our reading today advise the reader that what follows is worthy of paying attention, as when one shines a light in a dark area to see what was once hidden. What is it that needs light cast upon it? What we find in 2 Peter is a commentary on impropriety and sin. And why, today, must we read and reflect on this scripture? One response could be that in Advent, we prepare our hearts to receive the gift of Jesus; cleaning out the dismal corners makes room for the joy ahead.

We read of a warning about false prophets who deny God and bring in destructive opinions, shrouded in secrecy. The repercussions include people being led astray and exploited, and “the way of truth…maligned” (v. 2) As the legacy of the apostles Peter and Paul included teaching the ways of following Christ, instructors who instilled the wrong information in the minds of those seeking God resulted in division, confusion, and conflict. Unwieldy teachers, doubting students, and apostles up in arms. What a potential for chaos and drama!

Disruption and despair do not have the final word. Dr. Pheme Perkins, Professor of Catholic Spirituality at Boston College, observes that, interspersed with the familiar biblical motif of judgment and punishment, there is the promise of something new – salvation! Despite the flood, Noah was saved; amid the sinfulness of Sodom and Gomorrah, Lot was saved. Furthermore, we have assurance from the writer of 2 Peter: “the Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trial” (v. 9a). God has this great ability to sweep up the righteous who suffer. Dr. Perkins draws connections between this piece of scripture and our contemporary context by pointing to the hope we can find in God’s relentless power that “preserves the moral character of the faithful, even when they live in situations that are shot through with evil.” (689) Those who are yearning to be faithful and righteous in the sight of God do not need to distance themselves from others who live or act differently. Rather, Christians can continue to bear witness to the gospel, knowing that the Good News is a message of salvation and hope in a messy world.

As I reflect on this epistle from 2 Peter, the words from John 13 keep bubbling up: “Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” (John 13:1) Jesus knows and loves us as we are in the world, surrounded by (or in the middle of) despair, fear, avarice, and anger. Jesus loves us through that pain and brokenness.

Take a moment this day to shine a light in the dark corners of your spiritual and emotional storage rooms. What needs to be cleaned out? What needs saving? What is God calling you to dust off and share with others? My prayers are with you through this inventory…and, remember the goal of this exercise: more room for the joy of Christ to move within you!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

How do you respond when you feel like you are being convinced to re-evaluate teachings or beliefs that you previously held? Do you self-isolate? Do you do further research? Do you accept what you are hearing? Do you disagree?

Daily Challenge 

Take time to shine light on a part of your faith that trips you up or leaves you confused. Pray about it, asking God to open your mind to greater understanding. Perhaps research that topic, or ask your clergy for guidance.

Prophetic and Poetic Vision - December 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 45; PM Psalm 47, 48; Isa. 9:1-7; 2 Pet. 1:12-21; Luke 22:54-69

Today’s Reflection

The Book of Isaiah is one of both prophecy and poetry—the superscription that introduces this collection of texts declares that this is “the vision of Isaiah the son of Amoz, which he saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem” (1:1).  Such a vision can be understood as “a message from God, given in symbolic form” (ESV Study Bible 1240). Some scholars of the prophetic literature are quick to point out that the prophets were speaking these messages from God into their own times and places, and this is certainly true. However, this does not mean that these messages were not also being spoken to convey a message about the future. Part of the puzzle of prophetic literature is that it offers messages that enlighten us across time and place, giving those who hear or read it insight into things past, present, and future, which makes sense if we believe that the ultimate author of the prophetic texts is a God who is beyond time, speaking through faithful messengers such as Isaiah.

In the passage we read today from the Second Letter of Peter, he addresses questions that people in his own time had about the reliability of prophetic witness: “We ourselves heard this very voice borne from heaven, for we were with him on the holy mountain. And we have the prophetic word more fully confirmed, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place…knowing this first of all, that no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1: 18-21). Here, Peter was connecting his own experience at the Transfiguration with the experiences of the prophets, believing it gave him further insight into what it means to hear God’s voice. One commentator observes that, in this, “Peter is reassuring his readers that all the OT [Old Testament] scriptures that pointed to Christ were inspired by the Holy Spirit, and that the readers should pay close attention to them” (ESV 2420).

So, returning to the passage of prophetic poetry we find in Isaiah 9: 2-7, we know that this text is often read during this, the Season of Advent. We read this now because it is considered by many to be Isaiah’s vision of the coming, long-awaited Messiah. Indeed, in the explanation that precedes this poem, we learn how “in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations” (9:1). One thing to understand about the prophetic voice is that it moves in and out of various verb tenses, speaking as it does with a vision meant to give insight all at once into the past, present, and future. So, when we hear “in the latter time,” we find that a past tense verb is used “because the prophetic eye sees the future in a vision” (ESV 1257). A vision one has had already is recalled in past tense because the vision itself is past, but what the vision refers to may be yet to be fulfilled.

As we observe this Season of Advent, we re-live what it is like for “The people who have walked in darkness” who “have seen a great light” (9:2). The prophetic poetry is so powerful because it transports us backward in time to imagine what it was like for the people anticipating the first coming of the Messiah, of what it meant “for those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness” to wait for and finally receive this clearer vision of the light that was yet to come.

God gave Isaiah a vision of what was yet to come, a vision that we believe was fulfilled when Jesus was born of Mary, and then went on to live and die as one of us: “For to us a child is born, and to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. … The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this” (9: 6-7).

Again, understanding the way verbs work in the prophetic voice, we can understand this passage as alluding to the coming of Christ if we keep in mind that, “Isaiah presents the events as if it were the time of the child’s arrival, with an expectation of what he will achieve” (ESV 1257). Within the vision Isaiah received from God, Isaiah has already seen this child born, the vision anticipating historical events yet to occur. The Apostle Peter and the people who walked alongside Jesus were very familiar with Isaiah and the visions he received from God, as we find Isaiah mentioned and quoted throughout our New Testament scriptures. Peter and others in the early church believed that they had seen the fulfillment of Isaiah’s visions in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the long-awaited Messiah.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

In which historical events and literary texts have you found wisdom and insight into the world in which we are living today?

Do you believe that God still speaks through prophetic visions in our own time? If so, whose prophetic voices have you resonated with? What in their messages has struck you as being from God?

Daily Challenge

Look through some of the books of the New Testament to find some examples of how Isaiah and other prophets are referenced there. Reflect on why it is important to trace these threads of the prophetic tradition as they run through our New Testament texts. What do we learn about God and his love for us as we do this?

Show Me Your Path - December 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Isa. 8:16-9:1; 2 Pet. 1:1-11; Luke 22:39-53

Today’s Reflection

All this has come upon us; yet we have not forgotten you, nor have we betrayed your covenant. Our heart never turned back, nor did our footsteps stray from your path. –Psalm 44: 17-18

We humans tend to be very fearful of uncertainty. We have a fear of the unknown and of the future. We feel uncomfortable and afraid when we cannot see around the bend in the road. And yet, we are called to believe in a God who promises more than all we can ask or imagine. Jesus asks us to follow him, to step out in faith—though we do not know where following the path of Christ will lead us.

When I think of some of my favorite places to go hiking—like the Lake Beresford and Gemini Springs trails back in Florida, or McKinney Roughs out in Texas, or at Red Mountain here in Birmingham—I recall how some of what makes those trails most appealing to me are the curves. Seeing a bend in the trail up ahead, you wonder what may be around it—what beauties of nature will I experience next? Perhaps, as at Lake Beresford, I'll encounter a magnolia tree whose massive, fragrant white blooms I can smell even before I see the tree towering around the bend. Perhaps I'll encounter a wild boar and her babies up in a stand of trees as I come around the next curve in the path, as I once did at McKinney Roughs. Or maybe there will be a rattlesnake sunning itself in the trail, or some bicyclists coming quickly around the corner. We don’t know what exactly we will encounter—be it beautiful or dangerous—around the next bend. But if we choose to set out hiking on the trail, we accept that there will be hills and bends that we cannot see beyond—and we know that these grades and curves are what make the hike interesting and beautiful as well as risky.

Our God has given us his Spirit to abide in us and with us, so that we need not live in fear. We cannot see around the bend in the road. But at each bend we can choose to keep walking, believing that while we may not know what lies ahead, we will not walk there alone. God goes before us, and he has given us one another to walk with.

Last year, while I was re-reading Anne Lamott’s book, Help, Thanks, Wow, I read her reference to a famous ‘help’ prayer by the Trappist priest Thomas Merton. I looked up his prayer and was stopped in my tracks when I found myself and my own life circumstances reflected so clearly in someone else’s prayer. Maybe you, too, will see yourself and your life in it. And maybe you can imagine the ways that the people whose lives cross your path each day are reflected in it, too. So, in closing, I echo Merton’s prayer for us today:

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

So, take courage—and may God’s spirit abide with you and guide you always along God’s path.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a time when you felt lost. What did you do to re-orient yourself and get back on the right path? How are times such as this an effective metaphor for sticking to God’s path for you?

How does going through times of getting lost function to get you back on track?

Daily Challenge

Find time to go on a walk, run, or bicycle ride this week in a place that is unfamiliar to you. As you are navigating this new space, make a mental note of how you feel and what you would do to avoid getting lost now or next time.

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.