God Sees You - January 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 5, 6; PM Psalm 10, 11; Isa. 40:25-31; Eph. 1:15-23; Mark 1:14-28

Today’s Reflection

“Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, ‘My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God’? Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless” (Isaiah 40-27-29).

Each time I fly somewhere (though it’s been a while now due to the pandemic), looking down on the earth from the windows of my plane, I’m reminded of the need to reconnect with God and his divine perspective. We can get a limited sense of this when we fly, high up in the atmosphere, as we look down and see how humankind, and all the things we have built, seem very, very tiny—from this higher point of view.

Even just a few minutes connecting with God through a prayer, or silence, or a scripture passage, or nature can help us gain a new perspective. God’s vantage point is like that of someone looking down from above—a very different point of view from our default perspective, which tends to be stuck down amongst the weeds. God has the eternal perspective of the Creator in that God’s understanding transcends our limited human understanding of time and space, not to mention of ourselves and our place in it.

Just a few verses earlier in Isaiah 40, we read this: “Have you not known?... It is he who sits above the circle of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers” (Isaiah 40:21-22). As little, green grasshoppers looking up from down in the weeds where we tend to spend most of our time, it can seem like God doesn’t see us. In fact, it is we who cannot see God—all we see are all these weeds that are holding us grasshoppers back from leaping up into the sunshine and fresh air—into the freedom from worry and want—that we all seek. However, rest assured that God sees us and knows us, and all his creation to the ends of the earth. In other words, we cannot fall off God’s radar—he cannot not see us, he cannot not know us.

Not only that, but God does not grow weary—he does not get tired of us. God understands us better than we can understand ourselves. And not only is he always there for us as our everlasting God, but he empowers us: “He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless.”

When we feel our way is hidden from God, when we feel powerless and in need of renewed strength, those are the moments when we most need to step away to reconnect with him through solitude and prayer—just as Jesus did again and again throughout his public ministry. As we build in these moments of purposeful disappearing, we can re-appear—as Jesus did—with renewed commitment to live into the call that God has given to each of us: to go where God has called us to go, and to proclaim his message of grace, love, and peace to all those whose paths cross ours along the way.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a time when you felt like your way was “hidden from the Lord.” What about being in that situation made you feel unseen or disconnected from God’s loving gaze? What happened—or who intervened—to help you feel reassured that you are always seen and cared for by God?

Daily Challenge

Consider how you might give up time normally spent on something else in favor of using that time to disappear—as Jesus did—for the purpose of re-appearing refreshed and renewed, ready to take on the next challenge God has in store for you.

Starting Over - January 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7 ; Isa. 40:12-23; Eph. 1:1-14; Mark 1:1-13

There have been more than a handful of times in my life wherein just a matter of seconds, I realized how profoundly life had changed.  Usually, it happens when I say something that I can’t take back that changes the nature of a relationship.  It’s also has happened when I have typed something and hit the send button and regretted it for longer than the person on the receiving end could ever have imagined, although I am sure that the relationship is still different today.  I am betting I am not alone in carrying the guilt of what has been done and what has been left undone. 

I didn’t realize until preparing for this morning that we have once again hit one of those moments when we “start over.”  We begin working through the Psalms again starting with Psalm 1.  I think this is the fifth or sixth time since we begin this practice of daily prayer and reflection.  We begin working through the beautiful letter to the Ephesians with an ancient baptismal prayer.  And then we also begin working through the Gospel of Mark which tells the same story we heard at church the day before.

Starting over is important, but only because it points us to a much deeper truth – God’s grace is always available.  It’s the grace that is promised through the Gospel of Mark, a spirit we receive at baptism.   

One of the gifts of Morning Prayer has been reading the Lord’s Prayer multiple times a day.  I keep hearing the words of Jesus, “May God’s will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”    This is not only what we long for, but what we strive for as Christians.  We work for the kingdom to be on earth as it is heaven.  But to do this work, we must not only know God’s grace, but be willing to profess it for others as well. While there are always consequences for our actions, there can also be grace in the love that we feel from God and each other. May today be a day to start over for us all.

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where in your life do you need God’s grace?  Are there things you have said or done that you wish you could take back?

Daily Challenge:  It can be equally challenging both to receive grace and extend it.  Pick one event in your life in need of grace, and one person in your life and commit to working on extending grace today.

Why psalms? - January 9

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 121, 122, 123; Isa. 63:1-5; Rev. 2:18-29; John 5:1-15

A parishioner asked this week about the psalms, as they have tried to read them all in a period of time; they got bogged down in the middle and felt frustrated. So, why do we sing, pray, and quote psalms? Our Holy Scriptures include 150 lyrical pieces from antiquity – called the psalter – containing emotive, expressive waves of praise and joy; weeping and lament; anger and regret. These ancient psalms are the backbone of Jewish and Christian prayer…offerings of words about God, for God, and with God. Think about it like this: the psalter is the compendium of poetry and songs of Jesus’ time. While we lack the first musical settings, they are melodic in composition. The Hebrew people probably memorized them, at all ages, and recited them during work, or walking, or worshipping. The psalms speak of, and call us to proclaim, God’s steadfast faithfulness and mighty glory.

In his book Praying the Psalms, Thomas Merton says of the psalms, in his own decadent language: “…we drink divine praise at its pure and stainless source, in all its primitive sincerity and perfection. We return to the youthful strength and directness with which the ancient psalmists voiced their adoration of the God of Israel…the Psalms are the songs [of those] who knew who God was. When we pray the psalms, we get to learn and unearth this Lord to whom we pray...the psalms are the songs of the whole Church, the very expression of her deepest inner life…soul, desire, longing, sorrow, joy.”

The psalms do hold for us this opening into raw emotions, unfettered by social niceties. In today’s vernacular, we could say that psalms “keep it real”. In one verse, things are peaceful and serene, and in the next verse, there is a flood of vomit and meanness. Perhaps your life has been on such a rollercoaster this week. But why must we revisit the hateful verses of psalms? In opening prayer to all depths of feeling, we incorporate those darker spaces of self-loathing, righteous indignation, and rage:

Because of all my enemies,
    I am the utter contempt of my neighbors
and an object of dread to my closest friends—
    those who see me on the street flee from me. (Ps. 31:11)

Let there be none to extend lovingkindness to him,
Nor any to be gracious to his fatherless children.
Let his posterity be cut off;
In a following generation let their name be blotted out. (Ps. 109:12-13)

Happy is the one who seizes your infants
    and dashes them against the rocks. (Ps. 137:9)

And why do we keep saying these psalms that feel awkward and indecent? Because those verses of Holy Scripture are words that capture how someone – maybe you – is feeling right now. Those words put into phrase the devastation of those too tired, too angry, too broken to pray to God.

I know that the psalms appointed for today are more mild and comforting…and perhaps they are even more so in comparison to the harsh language of those cited above. What I hold up in closing is the prayer offered in Psalm 122 for the peace of Jerusalem – and for all cities. Let us all pray this prayer for our world:

"May they prosper who love you.

Peace be within your walls
and quietness within your towers.

For my brethren and companions' sake,
I pray for your prosperity.

Because of the house of the Lord our God,
I will seek to do you good." (Ps. 122:6b-9)

Let us seek to do good because of the love of the Lord our God this day.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What psalms do you know by heart? What psalms are your favorites? Which leave you confused?

Daily Challenge 

Read more about the visceral psalms and others at The Psalms Project. Share what you learn with someone else…and share a story of when you were mean or less than graceful. See how God’s faithfulness redeems us, no matter what.

Crafting Baskets and Hope - January 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 117, 118; PM Psalm 96:1-7; Exodus 2:1-10; Rev. 2:8-17; Matthew 5:1-12

Today’s Reflection

Today is the feast day of Harriet Bedell, someone whom I had never heard of before earlier this week. So, feeling curious about this unknown saint, who is described as “missionary and friend to the Seminoles” in Florida, where I grew up, I decided to learn more.

Harriet Bedell was an Episcopal deaconess and missionary who worked alongside Native Americans in Oklahoma, Alaska, and Florida. Born in Buffalo, New York, in 1875, she decided at age 31 (in 1906) to apply to the New York School of Deaconesses, where she was accepted into a year of formation to prepare to follow her call to be a deaconess. At that time, deaconesses were women who felt a call to a life of service, but were not ordained as members of the clergy as deacons are today.

Bedell was sent to a Cheyenne mission in Oklahoma where she served—though not yet officially recognized as a deaconess—for nine years. Then, in 1916, she was sent to serve in a new context, in Stevens Village, Alaska, and then was sent on from there to establish a boarding school in Tanana, Alaska, for rural students who did not live near a school. Finally, in 1922, Bedell was made a deaconess of the Episcopal Church. Unfortunately, the Great Depression made raising the necessary funds to keep the school open impossible, so she returned to the continental United States where she traveled around to speak of her missionary work. In 1932, Bedell traveled to Florida to speak at a Seminole reservation where she ended up feeling a call to live and work alongside the Miccosukee tribe, whose poor living conditions pointed toward a need to discover new ways of making a living.

While earlier in her ministry Bedell had focused on missionary work with an eye toward converting people to Christianity, over the years Bedell’s heart and mind changed. By the time Bedell worked with Miccosukee in South Florida, her focus shifted toward empowering people to improve their quality of life (especially their health and education) as she lived and worked alongside them in a spirit of respect and admiration for their culture.

What Bedell discovered about the Miccosukee culture is that they had rich traditions of crafting baskets, patchwork, and dolls, but that their artisan-elders were dying off and soon their valuable cultural knowledge and artistic skills would be lost. Bedell encouraged them to save these almost-lost traditions, which helped them to retain their cultural identity while they generated income to improve their daily lives.

The Exodus reading appointed for Bedell’s feast day is the story of baby Moses being floated down the Nile in a handmade basket: “When she could hide him no longer she got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river. His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him. The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it” (Exodus 2: 3-5). Just as the basket Moses’ mother crafted kept him alive and carried him to a new life, so too did the baskets and other crafts made by these Miccosukee artisans provide a new-yet-old way for them to live and thrive in the Everglades. Bedell made the Everglades her home and her mission from 1933 through 1960, when Hurricane Donna destroyed her home and the mission buildings, forcing her to retire at age 85.

As a young woman growing up in the Victorian Era in Buffalo, New York, Harriet Bedell likely would not have predicted the many and varied roads she would travel—all the interesting people she would know and love and all the beautiful places she would live—as she followed God’s call. And she probably wouldn’t have predicted the way that her heart would be changed along the way, either.

—Becky+

Collect for Harriet Bedell

Holy God, fill us with compassion and respect for all people, and empower us for the work of ministry whether near or far away; that like your servant Harriet Bedell, we may show forth your praise, not only with our lips, but in our lives, and by giving up ourselves to your service. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a point in your life when you thought you had a good plan for how your life would unfold—what you would achieve, where you would live, and who you would know. Did life unfold according to your plans? Or did some parts of your plan end up changing? Looking back on it now, reflect on the actual course of your life and how those unexpected changes in plans have made you who you are today.

Daily Challenge

Learn more of Harriet Bedell’s life and work in the Everglades of Florida (as well as in Oklahoma and Alaska) by viewing some of her photographs now archived at the Smithsonian Institution. You can read more about her life of service through the Women in Florida History blog and see photos of her at work through the Florida Memory Project.

Vanquishing Fear - January 7

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 103; PM Psalm 114, 115 ; Isa. 52:3-6; Rev. 2:1-7; John 2:1-11

I find today’s readings incredibly hopeful following one bizarre and unsettling day in the history of our nation.  To set up today’s story in light of the liturgical seasons that shape our faith tradition, I need to go back to yesterday. 

On the feast of Epiphany (January 6), we so often focus on the journey of the Magi that come from the East bearing gifts to the Christ child.  But that is only part of the story.  At the time of Jesus’ birth, a man named Herod is afraid of losing power.  He hears the prophecy of a king being born who will replace him.  With the fear of losing everything tormenting his ego and desire for power, Herod plots to kill all of the children who are to be born.  The Magi know this.  The text in the Gospel of Matthew says, “And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road” (Matthew 2:12). 

I share this because to me, I think living out our Christian faith is always risky.  To truly love our enemy, to care for the prisoner, to feed the hungry, to empower the powerless, to give voice to the marginalized always comes at a cost. Yesterday’s story is not new.  It is the timeless tale of what happens when we fear losing power.  It may come as a surprise to many of us because our commitment to love each other and a humility that is often shaped by faith and love allow us to vanquish that fear.  In an ideal world, we don’t fear those who think, look, or act differently than us because of an undergirding ethic to love those people as we love ourselves (The Great Commandment) even when we disagree. 

When fear replaces love and a commitment to respect the dignity of each other, the end result is always violence.  This is the path of fear.  The reason Jesus is so radical is the power of love to vanquish all fear (end of violence) and it is the love that we as Christians seek to embody in the world.  Which is why I find the readings for today so hopeful.

Today’s Gospel is the miracle at a wedding in Cana of Galilee, the story of Jesus turning water into wine.  But like most stories, something else is taking place.  You might recall that in every Gospel except John, there is a story of Jesus holding wine and saying, “This is my blood. Drink this in remembrance of me.” But not John!  And to think, John was written all those years after the other Gospels.  Why would the author leave out that important story!

Well, what some people think is what you have read today is actually part of an Ancient Eucharistic liturgy.  The story of Cana is not about a wedding but the Eucharist.  Water is actually something else.  It is the great mystery of the faith.  How can bread and wine be God?  How can what is right before our eyes be so sacred and so special?  But that’s what Jesus does, not on a Sunday morning, but the real mystery of the faith is learning that everything is sacred.  To believe is to see what is ordinary becoming something extraordinary.  That cup of water could be wine.  That angry man over there could be (actually is) a beloved child of God.   

What does this have to do with our current state of affairs as a nation?  If we know that God is a part of everything, we do not need to be afraid.  And this is an important clarification – we must denounce the stoking of violence and hatred of other that have fueled the flames of our state of affairs.  But a confidence in God’s reign because we know that God is a part of everything and everyone, keeps us from perpetuating the cycle of violence. It keeps us from being afraid.  Because regardless of where you stand on political lines or theological lines, if we believe that God is above all else, then what really do we have to fear?

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How has your faith shaped your understanding of the stories of yesterday? 

 Daily Challenge: Julian of Norwich, who survived an uprising and pandemic, was famous for her prayer, “All shall be well, all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” Try this prayer today when worry seems to take over.

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.