Love and Grief: Can’t Have One Without the Other – February 27

Today’s Readings:  Psalm 138, 139:1-17 , Deut. 11:18-28; Heb. 5:1-10; John 4:1-26 

After picking up my son from preschool one day, we headed to the park to meet some friends. The sky reigned blue, as the heavy rain clouds from earlier moved along and left a breezy afternoon perfect for kids to hunt for sticks, play chase, and cross the monkey bars. The conversation among the moms slipped from the buoyancy of children’s delight to a more somber tone. The tragedy of cancer weighed upon several of those present. The women talked about their own grief and that it felt unfair – more years should still be ahead for their ailing loved ones, if not for the debilitation and spread of cancer. As kids dashed past, the moms wondered how their children would process the loss of grandparents. One shared how they approached the reality that a beloved elder was dying: the love between two people does not change, even when one person dies. That love remains. Just as God loves each of us, we get to keep loving those who are important in our lives, even when they are no longer with us.

Last night my family and I watched the latest episode of “WandaVision,” a quirky superhero mystery show on Disney+. The main character Wanda is devastated. She comes face to face with the structures she has erected to avoid living into the reality of grief. In a poetic and sage interaction on-screen where honesty and fragility meet, these words stay with me: “But what is grief, if not love persevering?” Said differently, we grieve because the love we have continues to pulse through our veins, our words, our whole existence.

In these two grief-centric vignettes, connection and understanding happened through empathy and shared experience. Community is beautiful like that. While grief feels isolating, we do not do it alone. Our grief is grounded in love…love that continues.

The message imparted in Hebrews 5 today reminds us that priests are called by God to service to “deal gently” with people in spaces of struggle, as everyone has weakness and pain. Jesus, too, cried aloud to God in prayer, weeping. And though he was divine royalty and the fulfillment of prophesy, Jesus suffered (Hebrews 5:8). Jesus walks alongside us in our grief and struggles. We have companions in this pain, and as such, we are invited to love more fully. We are invited to love and give thanks with our whole heart (Psalm 138).

If you are struggling with grief or other type of suffering, you are not alone. Call out, for God will answer. Saint Stephen’s clergy and pastoral care ministries are here for you; your church friends and family are here with you, too. If lament is pressing upon your heart, remember that God’s love perseveres.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Have you ever felt that grief was strangling your capacity to love God or someone else? Have you known someone who has experienced protracted bereavement or complicated grief?

Daily Challenge

Take ten minutes to read about complicated grief. Explore what the Mayo Clinic has to say, or do your own research. Listen for ways you can be a support to someone in grief, or reach out for a partner to walk alongside you in your mourning. Pray this prayer for those who grieve:

Grief
May the light of Christ pierce the darkness of our grief.
May the love of Christ lift our spirits and gladden each day.
May the peace of Christ fill our hearts and comfort our sorrow.
May Christ our Savior walk by our side, today and tomorrow.
And May the blessing of our Eternal God and Father be with us,
now and until the ages of ages. Amen.
(Source: an adapted blessing from A Celtic Liturgy by Pat Robson)

Repentance and Revival - February 26

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 95* & 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Deut. 10:12-22; Heb. 4:11-16; John 3:22-36 

Today’s Reflection

“Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And before him no creature is hidden, but all are naked and laid bare to the eyes of the one to whom we must render an account.” –Hebrews 4: 12-13

When Presiding Bishop Michael Curry preached at the General Convention revival in Austin back in 2018, he talked a lot about love. But he also talked about something else: sin. Here’s what he said: “I’m convinced that the opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is selfishness, and hatred is derivative of selfishness. You see, selfishness or self-centeredness … is the root of all evil. It is the source of every wrong. It is behind every bigotry. It is behind every injustice.” As Bishop Curry observed, “Love can lift us up when the gravity of selfishness will pull us down. Love can bind us together when selfishness will tear us apart. There’s another word for selfishness. Believe it or not, it’s called sin. That’s why we have Lent, a season to deal with sin. But love is the cure.”

As liturgical Christians, every year we go through a cycle. We await Jesus in Advent and we greet Jesus’ birth at Christmas. We commemorate his naming and his presentation at the Temple. And then, as we enter into this Season of Lent, we remember how Jesus suffered and was rejected. Eventually, we make it to Good Friday, at the end of Lent, when we remember how Jesus took on the ultimate suffering through his crucifixion and death—but he had to die in order to be resurrected. He had to deal with sin in order that we, through his resurrection, would experience God’s redeeming grace and forgiveness and love.

At the end of Lent, on Good Friday, we will pray a series of Solemn Collects. In the last of these Solemn Collects, we will pray for the whole Church and for the whole world, signaling again the inclusiveness of God’s redeeming grace and forgiveness. The main thrust of this prayer comes in what we are praying that God will “let the whole world see and know,” which is “that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord” (BCP 280).

Has the sin of bigotry caused people to be cast aside or kept down, in the margins, by individuals or by institutions? God’s redeeming grace will raise people back up—because those at the margins of human care and concern are always at the center of God’s care and concern. Are there institutions or ways of doing things that have grown old—have we gotten stuck in an unhealthy rut, amusing ourselves to death? God’s redeeming grace makes it possible for us to be made new, to get out of the rut and into a healthier pattern of caring for ourselves and others. Are we worried that we will never get things just right, that there will always be some imperfection that bogs us down? As we pray this collect, we are reminded that “all things are being brought to their perfection” through Christ.

As we worship and pray together this Lent, I pray that we can spur one another on as we reflect on our sins—what we have done and what we have left undone—and be encouraged by the hope we find in the unending forgiveness and love of Christ.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Reflect on Bishop Curry’s observation that, “There’s another word for selfishness. Believe it or not, it’s called sin. That’s why we have Lent, a season to deal with sin. But love is the cure.” Is there some habit or practice in your life in which you could commit, during this Season of Lent, to move from self-centeredness to being more responsive to the needs of others?

Daily Challenge

Find time to listen to or read the text of Bishop Curry’s full 2018 revival sermon here—you’ll be glad you did.

A Keyser Söse Moment - February 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 19, 46 ; Deut. 9:23-10:5; Heb: 4:1-10; John 3:16-21

One of my favorite movies in High School was the film The Usual Suspects.  Since the film is over 25 years old, I feel no problem at all in spoiling the ending.  The film follows the arrest of a low-level con artist with cerebral palsy named Verbal Kent (played by Kevin Spacey) who is one of two survivors of a massacre on a boat dock.  The movie is a mixture of interrogations and flashbacks from Kent’s past.  The police are trying to figure out just who this Verbal Kent character is and his involvement and connection to this infamous crime lord named Keyser Söze.

As Kent is being interrogated, he begins to tell the story about all of the usual suspects that the police believe might be involved in the case and at each turn, the story becomes more and more elaborate. The story involves jewel thieves and heists, the mob, corrupt cops, and drug runners.  When you are watching the first time, you are mesmerized by the story and the details and how everything works together. 

Finally, at the end of the movie, the police believe that Kent is harmless and as he limps out of the police station, there are these flashbacks to the investigating officer connecting the dots. The officer recalls a coffee mug on the table manufactured by a company with the same name as the person Kent was talking about or connecting to names of things that are on the bulletin board.  With just a few minutes left, the officer realizes that the entire story was made up.  As Kent leaves the building, his limp straightens, and the viewer realizes that Kent is actually Söze and the entire story was a fabrication to the police made up using the bulletin board in the interrogation room. It’s an absolutely brilliant movie, and if you haven’t seen it before, well, I have ruined for it you!

And here is the thing.  If you stopped watching the movie at any point before the last five minutes, you would be so far from understanding what actually happened that no one would be able to comprehend what movie you actually watched, if you described it.  You have to see the whole movie to understand any of it! 

I think of Scripture, much in the same way.  It is far too easy to focus on one or two lines of scripture that we miss the entire point of the larger story.  Just look at the difference between verses 3:16 and verses 3:17 in today’s Gospel.  Taken from the Gospel of John, verse 16 is likely the most memorized passage of scripture we encounter.  I have seen more bumper stickers that say John 3:16 than bumper stickers that begin with “My child is an honor student at...”  The language of “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life” are so foundational to the core beliefs of many.  This Scripture is beautiful and powerful but has also been used as a weapon to those who don’t believe.  Listen to what comes next: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

The whole world!  God’s work is not just limited to who might perish but it is actually about redeeming the whole world.  Where is my John 3:17 bumper sticker! 

And while verses 18-21 do suggest the necessity of belief in God in Christ, I only want to point that when we add more of the story, it gets more complicated, more beautiful, and more challenging.  Oddly, I believe Christ’s resurrection is the Keyser Söze moment.  Everything is different and it changes the whole story.  All the other stuff doesn’t make sense without it.  God saves the world, not condemns it.  The challenge for us to not get bogged down on a few details that we miss the big picture.  Or even worse, totally miss the crazy plot twist at the end.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What scriptures are most important to you and why?  Are there other passages of the Bible that you find are in conflict with what you believe?  How do you reconcile the differences? 

Daily Challenge:  Read an entire book of the Bible.  I suggest something shorter.  Mark’s Gospel can be read easily in one sitting.  Much shorter books might include the Book of Ruth or Jonah or Paul’s Letter to the Galatians. 

From Rubble to Renewal – February 24

Today’s Readings:  AM  Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, Deut. 9:13-21; Heb. 3:12-19; John 2:23-3:15 

Last night, the kids were running wild and chasing one another. There were screams of glee and hilarity, yet those noises were also indicators that someone would be crying very soon. They were tired and it was time to cool off before bedtime. Sam took control of the situation – and when I say “took control of the situation,” I mean that he grabbed the TV remote control. The kids settled down as Dad chose an episode of “Little House on the Prairie” in which Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash were guest stars. Johnny Cash’s character was a swindler, and his wife June was his partner in crime.

As often happened on “Little House,” coming to the town of Walnut Grove brought about change of heart and deeper connection with God’s goodness. Johnny impersonated a minister and collected goods for those in need, with plans to keep the ill-gotten gains for himself. Before he could head out of town with the loot, he had to be a pastor to people in hard times, including a little girl whose puppy died, yet she kept holding to hope for a miracle that the pup would come back to life. Johnny approached the little girl, with others watching, to convince her of God’s care for all creatures, including dogs. To build up her belief, he told a story from the Bible of lots of rain falling and then a man named Jonah built this big boat to hold lots of animals. The little girl interrupts and says, “Wait a minute!”

My daughter piped up on the sofa and said, “He said the wrong name! Doesn’t he mean Moses?” About that time, the little girl on the show said, “Don’t you mean Noah?” Johnny shiftily retorted that he was testing her knowledge, and of course he was talking about Noah… Meanwhile at our house, there was laughter and commentary around confusing the big names of the Bible. I remembered how I, too, had confused Jonah, Noah, and Moses.

Wrestling with belief is not a new story, is it? In today’s reading from Deuteronomy, Moses (not Noah or Jonah) has been on this multi-day prayer retreat with God that sounds very Lenten – fasting and praying for 40 days and 40 nights (it’s easy to see where Noah and Moses get confused with that parallel!). While on that mountaintop experience, God gave Moses the two tablets upon which held the words of the covenant spoken to God’s people and “written with the finger of God” (Deut. 9:10).

Aaron (Moses’ brother) and the Israelite people were impatient for a visceral interaction with the Lord – and so they turned to another local tribal god. What they did not know was that Moses was en route, carrying a tangible, tactile covenant in two tablets for them. Moses descended the fiery mountain of God’s presence and returned to his family and friends. He found them praying to an idol – the image of a calf – cast in a fire kindled by the people. What we read in Deuteronomy today is a revision of Exodus 32, which explains in many visual details the scene of chaos and heartache.

You get the gist – for the Israelites then, and for us in 2021. There is brokenness because of a lack of belief…a shattered covenant in rubble upon the ground. What is next? Moses shows us: repentance in order to move to renewal. We face our brokenness and those things that we fear most – being abandoned, forgotten, in pain, hungry, scared, alone.

In this Lenten season of prayer and self-discipline, whether we prostrate ourselves physically on the ground, kneel in prayer, or bow our heads before God’s grandeur, we can choose to spend time with our greatest fears and prayerfully turn them over to God. We can practice believing that God has a promise for rest and restoration – and that we are included in that covenant. And, as we are reminded in Hebrews 3:14, we get to encourage our siblings in faith as we struggle with belief. We are partners of Christ – not solo venturers. The Lord is a source of help for us…and let us use this time of Lent to soften our ears to hear and receive God’s voice, and soften our hearts to receive the grace poured upon us.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What is one of your big fears? How do you respond when this fear bubbles up? How easily can you see others’ fears in their responses?

Daily Challenge

Our fears become stumbling blocks in our faith in God. Pray for someone this day who has a looming or recurrent fear. Pray for their endurance – like Moses – of facing the brokenness and turning to God in prayer. Pray that they may feel the comforting hand of Jesus upon their head and the swirling courage of the Holy Spirit moving them toward a posture of confidence in God.

A Temple to What? - February 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 45; PM Psalm 47, 48; Deut. 9:4-12; Heb. 3:1-11; John 2:13-22

Today’s Reflection

“The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money-changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money-changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, ‘Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a market-place!’ His disciples remembered that it was written, ‘Zeal for your house will consume me.’” –John 2:13-17

In today’s Gospel account, we see in the makings of a counter-cultural lifestyle—Jesus is calling out a polluting of the Temple with the things of this world. He wants to re-orient people, turning them from too much attention to material matters and even the built environment of the Temple itself toward a more transcendent reality that is found through faith in God alone.

As we are called into this life of being set apart, God is not just telling us to live differently, but in so setting us apart, God is saving us from perishing. In telling us to walk this different path, telling us to be set apart, God is pointing us toward the path of life, the path toward what is most lasting—which is a life lived in union with the God who made us and loves us. This is why, when Jesus walked into the Temple that day, he was so incensed. What was meant to be a worship place had become a marketplace.

Jesus was seeking to up-end people’s conception of what the Temple was—and is. People had seen the Temple as a building which had taken them 46 years to build. They saw the Temple as a place where people would travel from far away, and when they arrived they wanted to make sure that the sacrifices they would offer would be good enough.

This sounds familiar, right? Today, so many of us struggle to be seen as good enough—at work, we don’t take time off to rest. In our personal lives, we want to be seen as good enough by acquiring the latest device or fashion, driving the sportiest or most environmentally conscious vehicle, or eating the healthiest and most photo-worthy food. We want to live lives that are enviable because we want to make ourselves feel that we are, indeed, good enough.

This sounds a lot like the culture of the Temple into which Jesus walked that day: Look how hard we have worked to build this Temple. Look at what a great selection of cattle and doves we have for you to choose from, so that you can make the best sacrifice to be good enough in the eyes of God.

But Jesus walked in and he was more than just disappointed—he was angry. Everything that the Temple was supposed to be had become skewed. Just before this passage, we read in John of the wedding in Cana of Galilee. Not only did Jesus make sure they had enough wine, he made sure that the wedding party and guests had the best wine. And later in John, when Jesus talks about his Father’s house, he also talks about it as a place where there is enough room for everyone, it is a place of comfort and plenty and welcome, that he is preparing himself for those who know him.

During this Holy Lent, let us reflect on who we are as a people who God wants to be set apart. How do we spend our time? How do we spend our money? Whether or not you ‘give up’ something this Lent, think about what it means to live into the message of the Cross—which is a message of self-emptying rather than of self-fulfillment—throughout the year.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Reflect on how the Season of Lent could serve to reorient or reset your life toward God’s kingdom and God’s dream for us. What habit or practice could you give up to make more room in your life for God’ ways to take deeper root in your life? What habit or practice could you take on to re-orient your heart and mind and whole life toward God?

Daily Challenge

To reflect further on these things, read Malcolm Guite’s poems “Ash Wednesday” and “All the Kingdoms of the World,” which are found on his blog. You can even choose to hear the poems read in the poet’s own voice.  (For the second poem, you’ll need to scroll down to find it—and you may want to reflect on the others posted there as well.)

Don't Forget to Check the Wine - February 22

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Deut. 8:11-20; Heb. 2:11-18; John 2:1-12

Under the altar in our Nave are three different Eucharistic Visitor boxes that we keep stocked with wine and bread.  Some are consecrated and some are not. On Sunday, after church, I grabbed the last box under the altar to go visit a couple and bring them communion.  Prior to Covid, there were pastoral visits most weeks and the boxes were frequently changed.  However, a year ago, we created little take-home kits for our Lay Eucharistic Visitors, so only the clergy used the three boxes under the altar, and I doubt any more than two were out at one time.  It’s been an exceptionally busy few days and without preparation, I just grabbed the last box.  One of my clergy colleagues suggested that the kit might be old, but a parishioner showed up as I grabbed the box, and it didn’t really register what she was implying at the time.

Fast forward an hour later, and I am sitting down with this couple and I am beginning the Eucharistic prayer and it hits that the wine I have, might be really old.  We consecrate the wine and bread and as I take communion, I intentionally intinct (where you dip the consecrated bread in the consecrated wine).  And now, there is no question in my mind that the wine is old, even with just a few drops, the bitter acidic taste is jarring to the palette.  As I turn to the couple and administer communion, the words come right out:  “The Body of Christ, oh and you may want to wait and intinct too.”  She looks at me, smiles, and knows just what I have done.  And at that moment, the usual sipper became one who intincts. There are lots of classes that are not offered at seminary that should be. 

Today’s Gospel is the Wedding Feast of Cana.  It is the first miracle in the Gospel of John, and it is only in John’s Gospel that we hear this story.  In the story, there is a wedding feast and the couple runs out of wine. Jesus takes water jars and turns the water into wine.  But it isn’t any wine, but the absolute finest wine.  Many scholars believe that the true meaning of this story is not a miracle magic trick by Jesus, but really an ancient Eucharistic liturgy and water turning to wine, is really about the early Christian theology of the Eucharist which connects us to God as a bride and bridegroom.  As Episcopalians, we believe that God is really present in the Eucharist, and in our celebration of Eucharist, the wine turns into God’s absolute finest, grace that nourishes and redeems our soul.

As we celebrated communion on Sunday, I was struck by just how sacred and special our gathering together as the Body of Christ truly is.  And as we celebrated communion, I didn’t just believe that God was there, but could feel God’s presence in the Eucharist.  And it hit me, that not even a silly mistake could take away from God’s transcendent presence.  See, God breaks through whether we get it perfect or not.  Sometimes, it even feels like God is more present when we mess it up. 

While I suspect I’ll never forget to check the wine of a communion kit again, I hope we can all be reminded that God doesn’t care if we get it all right or not.  As long as we are willing to show up, God will be there too.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection:  What memorable experiences have you had during Communion?  How has that shaped your faith? 

Daily Challenge:  Reread John’s Gospel for today.  Do you now see the connection to the Eucharist?

Figs and Faith - February 20

Today’s Readings:  Psalm 42, 43, Deut. 7:17-26; Titus 3:1-15; John 1:43-51 

At our house in Huntsville, we had two fig trees. One was at the corner of the house by our garage, and the other grew outside our fence at the boundary between our property and our backdoor neighbor, Mr. Dan. Mr. Dan was in his nineties and would get up early in the morning, walk around the block and then across his property, inspecting his garden and lawn. Never did I see a blade of grass out of order in his yard. His home had been one of the first built in the neighborhood, and Mr. Dan had been there for nearly fifty years with his wife Jeanette.

Through the kitchen window one morning, I saw Mr. Dan with a broom, pulling down a branch of our fig tree to pick a ripe fruit that was just out of his reach. Sam had seen him the day prior gathering a few. At one of our over-the-fence chats about the state of our gardens, we invited Mr. Dan to help himself to all the figs he could gather, for they would not last long and there were more than we could eat. I remember looking for figs to give to our kids, for them to try one of the teardrop-shaped fruits. The texture was somewhat foreign, so the sweet purplish-green fruits were more fun to jump on than nibble. While the tree stretched above the roofline, the leaves on the sprawling lower limbs were large and created great shade. The kids preferred hiding under the tree to eating the figs themselves.

In John 1, Philip invites Nathaniel to come see this guy who is the fulfillment of promises from Moses and the prophets. As Nathanael approaches the Nazarene, Jesus remarks “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” Odd, right? So, Nathanael says, “Um, how exactly is it that you know me?” Jesus says, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” I imagine Nathanael is stunned and humbled, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”

All of this because Jesus said he had a glimpse of Nathanael under the shade of a fig tree. Perhaps he was resting in the cool shadow and eating a rich, fruity snack. And yet, I wonder, what is the power and connection with the fig tree, such that John includes this detail in the story of recruiting Jesus’ followers? In Genesis 1, fig leaves are sewn together as the first clothing for Adam and Eve. In Deuteronomy 8, the Promised Land has spaces of fig trees, for shade and for nourishment. And then, in Micah 4:4, “They shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid.”

Here’s a fun tidbit to chew on, as you are enjoying a Fig Newton today: George Washington often cited this scripture in his writings, perhaps even more than fifty times. There were multiple ways this reference was understood by the first president of the United States. Often, he was referring to the independence of peasants and farmers, freed from military service and fear of British power in the new country created in America – living into their promise of the fullness of life. Washington also wrote these words in a letter to a Hebrew community worshipping in Newport, Rhode Island, as a word of encouragement that their congregation would thrive: “May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants – while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid.” In the Broadway production of “Hamilton”, we hear a reiteration of this phrasing in the song One Last Time, as George Washington discloses to Alexander Hamilton that he will not stand for a third term as president. He aspires to go home and find his space of rest, under his own vine and fig tree.

Today, may you find space to reflect and pray under the shade of whatever is a fig tree for you – a space of shelter, nourishment, and promise. As Jesus calls you to follow him, I pray that you leap up and proclaim, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God!”

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection



What was a favorite hiding space when you were a kid?

What quiet space do you seek today?

Daily Challenge

Nathanael exhibits skepticism at Jesus, wondering, “What good can come from Nazareth?” What is something about God that you are skeptical about today? Draw near…ask questions to understand more. Sit in prayer about a question you have. Ask God to open your eyes to deeper faith, and shine Christ’s light, so that you may believe.

The Cool Teacher - February 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 95* & 31; PM Psalm 35; Deut. 7:12-16; Titus 2:1-15; John 1:35-42 

Today’s Reflection

Do you remember that teacher that everyone talked about and looked forward to finally having as their teacher? Maybe in elementary school, it was the teacher that everyone hoped they would be assigned to their class when they reached that teacher’s grade. At Port Orange Elementary School, that teacher was Mrs. Dee Esser—she was from New Jersey, she had attitude, she wore cool (for the 1980s) clothes, was a singer and a drummer, and as rumor had it (and the rumor was true) when she was younger she had toured with the Beach Boys. In our magnet program, we all looked forward to finally getting to sixth grade when we, too, would finally have the coolest of the teachers before we moved on to junior high. We were kind of disappointed when we only got to have Mrs. Esser for part of sixth grade, as she went on maternity leave for the second part of the year—but we were excited to be in her class for the year when the coolest of teachers was expecting her first baby.

Maybe in high school, it was the teacher who had the reputation as being challenging but cool, or who sponsored a club that you were in, or just had something about them that drew teenagers’ interest. At my high school, Spruce Creek, that teacher was Mr. Danny Crile. He was the Student Government sponsor, so I had the chance to get to know him through that before I finally got to be in his classroom every day for AP U.S. History in eleventh grade. He was into local politics and acted in the community theatre, always had a tan (we did live by the beach), and students made gave him a hard time for ironing his jeans, which he wore on casual Fridays. He had a reputation as being outspoken about his politics, which at the time were not the same as mine, but I always felt that he was fair and that he just wanted people to understand and care about what was going on in the world. I was fascinated by all the Time magazine covers that he had lined up around the top of the walls all around his classroom. His class was not easy—for the first time in our schooling, we had to learn how to interpret primary historical documents to learn about the past rather than just taking other people’s word for it. But he always kept things lively and he prepared us well for the AP test—I, for one, did better on that AP exam than on any of the others I took.

Or maybe it was in college, the professor you kept hearing good buzz and fascinating stories about from friends and classmates in your major. At Stetson, I was an English major and the professor I kept hearing about from my friend Randy was Dr. Terri Witek. Finally, the second half of my junior year, I had the chance to take a course—the American Long Poem—with Dr. Witek. First of all, she picked amazing, book-length poems for us to read, by poets I had never read before like Rita Dove and Kate Daniels and Mark Strand—and since the course was about American long poems, we also read Walt Whitman, dissecting that longest of long poems, Song of Myself. It’s hard to describe exactly what made her teaching so magical, beyond her own funky poet persona, but I think what stands out for me is her teaching style of drawing out what we, the students, had to say about the poems, rather than forcing her own interpretation onto us. Later, when I was becoming a professor myself, memories of Dr. Witek’s class and how talented she was at drawing out her students gave me a model to emulate in my own teaching practice.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus is that cool teacher that everyone wants to be their rabbi. You can picture John and two others standing there as Jesus walks by and they say to each other, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” So, they decided to follow him down the road and Jesus, being Jesus, could sense that he was being followed, so he turned to them and said, “What are you looking for?” And they said they wanted to know where Jesus was staying. Instead of rebuffing them, or telling them to come back and listen to him teach tomorrow, Jesus instead said: “Come and see.” The students followed their teacher, and spent the rest of the day, as I imagine it, listening and learning from this very special rabbi who they had been hearing so much about. Andrew, one of those who followed Jesus and spent the day listening and learning more, then went home to his brother, Simon, and told him to come and see, too. And when Jesus met Simon, he recognized that Simon, too, was meant to follow him—and not only that, but to become the rock on whom his church would be built (which is why he changed his name to Cephas, which means rock). When we hear a good teacher, someone who gives us hope and helps us see the world and our place in it differently, we are meant to spread the Good News. And that is just what John, Andrew, and Simon Peter did.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a teacher who stands out in your memory as one who challenged or inspired you. What was it about this teacher that made their teaching transformative or memorable? What is something you learned as their student that influenced you or that you ended up sharing with others?

Daily Challenge

Track down a teacher or professor from your own education and send them a note to thank them for all that they put into being your teacher. Share with them something that has stuck with you, even years later, from your time as their student.

The Game of Baseball - February 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 37:1-18; PM Psalm 37:19-42 ; Deut. 7:6-11; Titus 1:1-16; John 1:29-34

We played baseball in elementary school.  And while I did have a few seasons of sitting in the outfield and picking grass while occasionally having someone yell at me to watch out, that is not what I am suggesting.  We played baseball in the classroom.  It was simple: three strikes and you are out.  If you talked out of turn or were goofing off, Strike one!  Your name went up on the board.  If you kept acting out, a little checkmark went next to your name.  And if a third strike was called, off to the principal’s office you went which often meant a phone call home and certainly a spanking, grounding, or something much worse in store.  Three strikes! You’re out!   

And if you wanted to survive in elementary school, socially speaking, you had to play ball.  You didn’t want to be the kid who was perfect, the little goody-two-shoes, but you also didn’t want to be the kid who got out.  There was this unspoken pressure to be good, or good enough if you wanted to thrive in the school.  While you had to play, you also had to convince the teachers that you respected the rules enough to stay in the game.  You didn’t want to be the kid who was going to get three strikes.

I think most of us believe there is still some game of baseball being played.  You can break the rules a little bit, maybe drive fifteen over, drink a little too much at the Christmas party, or tell the occasional lie, but there are certain societal faux pas that once you cross the line you are out.  I will avoid naming those for you but will let your imagination run wild.  We all have our own lines that we don’t think others should cross, and if they do we will be certain to call them out.

And yet, if this really is how our world works, then isn’t it odd, that Christianity has a whole season, 40 consecutive days of us being asked to look at where we have screwed up, crossed the line, struck out, and even been thrown out of the game, and then God says, and it doesn’t matter, I’m putting you back in, and you’re in the starting line up!  Here is the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”  John the Baptist is teaching us that the rules of the game have forever been changed.  No more three strikes and you’re out.  Instead, if recognize that you have messed up, you will find yourself back in.  It’s counterintuitive, but the people who think they are perfect are the ones who are really missing out. 

As Christians, our job is to change the game.  Our role is to invite people back into the game when the world has said you are out.  And that same grace that we extend applies to you and me.  A little humility and an ethic of repentance can change the whole narrative.  May we have the courage to believe John the Baptist that the rules of the game have been changed.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Have you ever found yourself being called out in the great game? What were the reasons?  What have you learned from that experience?  Was it fair? 

Daily Challenge:  Consider who in your life has been cast out of your community and friendship circles based on their actions or poor decisions.  Are there ways this person could be invited back in?  What would that look like?

“God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” – February 17

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 95* & 32, 143; PM Psalm 102, 130; Jonah 3:1-4:11; Heb. 12:1-14; Luke 18:9-14

In February 2002, I attended a weekend retreat for young adults at Camp McDowell called Vocare. In Latin, vocare means to call, and this was a time for people ages 18 to 30 to ponder how God could be beckoning us to serve in the work before us. Through a series of talks and small group discussions, we explored what it meant to grow in the awareness of being called by God. We listened through worship, too.

As I think back on that cold weekend 19 years ago, what I realize is that in the process of being called by God, there are speedbumps that may slow or divert each of us along the way. Sometimes those impediments leave dings or skew our alignment. Other obstructions may bring us to a grinding halt, or red in the face when others see our gaffe. The barriers to following God’s call in our lives can numerous, and I am guessing that your list is probably different than mine. Included on my speedbump list is the sin of pride…one of the “seven deadlies”.  

We hear in Luke 18 the parable of the Pharisee and tax collector who walk into the temple. Jesus’ punchline may have felt like a blow in the gut to some of his audience. The two characters start praying, distant from others. The Pharisee lifts his face to God and prays a prayer of exceptionalism and self-glorification. The tax collector bows his head low, strikes his chest in humility, and says, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” As Jesus constructs it, the parable exaggerates the proud Pharisee – perhaps for a more dramatic effect in his storytelling. However, the actions Jesus attributes to the devout man are prescribed by Jewish law, including fasting, prayer and giving a tithe to the temple. The problem, we learn, is with the Pharisee’s mindset – his pride; his own exaltation will be turned into humility. The more acceptable posture of prayer is that of contrition, with simple and direct language.

The tax collector’s words, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” ring in my ears and remind me of the service in the Episcopal Church called The Reconciliation of a Penitent. While we say the corporate confession and receive absolution many times in the church year, there is a framework for private confession, so that specific sins can be named in a confidential, prayerful setting. Though not a required practice, it can be a helpful experience to name those impediments to following God’s call. Why? By speaking wrongs (and how we have been wronged) to another person, we release these hurts to God and are liberated to receive forgiveness.

Even now, the words of this service (BCP 449) move me, as this was a meaningful experience for me during the Vocare retreat weekend. (The Ash Wednesday liturgy reminds me of this rite, too.) Together, the priest and penitent can say a portion of Psalm 51 and ask for God’s mercy. Then, the person who is confessing says, “Pray for me, a sinner.” After confessing a particular sin, the person concludes with a plea to God for reception and restoration of relationship. The priest responds in God's love through words of comfort, direction, and absolution.

Ash Wednesday is the beginning of a 40-ish day season in which we meditate on and practice returning our hearts, and whole lives, to God. Today, through the imposition of ashes on our foreheads, hearing scripture, and prayers of repentance, we examine our lives and choices. If a speedbump of pain or sin is an obstruction in your life, or causes destruction within you, please do not suffer alone. Consider whether a private confession could bring you solace or relief. Perhaps you simply need help praying about how you might be reconnected to God’s love during this lonely and angst-filled time. Your priests at Saint Stephen’s are here to offer words of prayer, counsel, and consolation. You are not alone.

As you go about this Ash Wednesday, abide in peace, and pray for me, a sinner.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When has a time of confession been meaningful to you? What was hard? What was helpful?

What could you do to deepen your experience of saying the Confession during worship?

Daily Challenge 

The Vocare Prayer is a bold request of God:

Lord, Let me know clearly the work which you are calling me to do in life.
And grant me every grace I need to answer your call with courage and love and lasting dedication to your will. Amen.

Pray these words. Listen for what work you have done in the past, what work are doing today that is already a calling, and what God is calling you to do tomorrow. Write down one attribute that helps you answer God’s call.

Holy Curiosity - February 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 26, 28; PM Psalm 36, 39 ; Deut. 6:16-25; Heb 2:1-10; John 1:19-28

Today’s Reflection

Deuteronomy is a book about the law. Under the leadership of Moses, God led the people of Israel out of their years of slavery in Egypt, taking them through forty years in the wilderness to the promised land. But then it wasn’t just as simple as taking possession of the land, they first needed to defeat the kings there, Sihon and Og, and then the land needed to be divided up to the different families or tribes who had been traveling together as they followed Moses, who himself was forbidden to enter the land.

Besides leading God’s people out of Egypt to the promised land, the other major thing that we associate with Moses is the giving of the law to God’s people. Now, the people already received laws from the LORD, but at this point (Deuteronomy 5-6), God has a new articulation of the law that he gives to his people through his spokesperson, Moses. Not only does Moses communicate the ten commandments to the people of God, but he also interprets the law and teaches them about the significance of it. Before he declares the ten commandments, Moses prepares their hearts and minds for what they will receive, sharing with them this wisdom: “Only take care and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children” (Deut. 4:9).

So, when we hear today’s appointed passage from Deuteronomy 6, we hear Moses acknowledging a dynamic that all parents know very well: children like to ask questions, especially when they are being told to follow a rule or do a task. I remember that “Why?” was one of the words our oldest daughter (now 17) repeated all the time, as a very young toddler and into preschool age. At the time it was sweet and I felt proud that I was raising a child who wanted to know why things are as they are. Asking questions and engaging in conversations and investigations that allow them to find out answers is one of the ways that children—and adults, too—learn about themselves and their world. Of course, as parents, we don’t always feel like stopping to explain why we want our children to do something—we just want them to clean up their toys, put their dirty clothes in the hamper, or get ready for school, no questions asked, because we are in a hurry, or tired, or just don’t feel like explaining the reason why again. As authority figures, sometimes it seems like it would be easier if those under our charge would not ask so many questions and would just follow the rules as they have already been explained before.

So, with all that in mind, what stood out to me in today’s reading from Deuteronomy 6 is when Moses acknowledges this dynamic, realizing that it is not a matter of if but a matter of when the children of Israel will ask, “What is the meaning of the decrees and the statutes and the ordinances that the Lord our God has commanded you?” The answer Moses gives them is maybe not what they—or we—are expecting. Moses reminds them of how God brought them out of Egypt, and that he did so with a purpose in mind: “He brought us out from there in order to bring us in, to give us the land that he promised on oath to our ancestors. Then the Lord commanded us to observe all these statutes, to fear the Lord our God, for our lasting good, so as to keep us alive, as is now the case.”

The LORD (YHWH) “brought us out from there in order to bring us in.” On first reading, this statement seems so obvious as to beg the question why was it necessary for Moses to even say this. But as we ponder this question, why does Moses need to say this, it becomes more clear. Moses saw that the people of Israel needed a reminder of their story—of all that they had lived through in the trials of being enslaved to the Egyptians, followed by the trials of the forty years wandering in the wilderness—to impress upon the meaning and importance of the laws God had given to them to follow in their life in the promised land. They needed to be reminded that God had brought them out from those challenging times in their history in order to appreciate the goodness and freedom in their present and future—and to appreciate that their present and future freedom were made more secure by the structure and stability to be found through living in a covenant relationship with the LORD.

As we continue in this time of writing and reading Daily Reflections, diligently reading the scriptures together and praying together as we go through this time of wandering in the wilderness of this ongoing pandemic, I pray these words from earlier in Deuteronomy 6 will encourage you to continue in these daily spiritual disciplines:

Hear therefore, O Israel, and observe them diligently, so that it may go well with you, and so that you may multiply greatly in a land flowing with milk and honey, as the Lord, the God of your ancestors, has promised you.

Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might. Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart. Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates. (Deut. 6: 3-9)

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a time you questioned why you were being required to do something or follow a new set of rules. What did you learn from asking questions? Did it make you feel better or worse about being expected to follow these laws?

Daily Challenge

Think of a creative way to remind yourself of a favorite piece of scripture this week, inspired by Moses’ instruction to bind them on your hand, fix them on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts and the gates of your house.

Showing Up - February 15

Today’s Scripture: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15; Deut. 6:10-15; Heb 1:1-14; John 1:1-18

A month after moving to Virginia for seminary, my younger sister had a horrible bout with rhabdomyolysis the caused her to be in the ICU for several weeks and intubated for quite some time.  I remember flying home and going straight to Baptist Memorial Hospital to spend time with her and my family.  Those few weeks when Ann was in the hospital were some of the scariest in my life.  I still can’t comprehend what they were for her.  Now, even as I spend time talking or visiting people in similar situations much of the time, I still struggle to make sense with just how precious and fragile life really is, and especially God’s role in it all.  Ann has shared with me a few times how she came to know that God was with her in those precious moments, to know that God’s love surrounded her.  

I’ve wondered many times if she felt God’s presence in the moment when people visited, or if she came to realize God’s presence much later, something that looking back on her experience in the hospital, she realized was God’s abiding presence comforting her, strengthening her, and giving her the courage to fight. She would talk about the people who showed up and helped remind her that she was not alone. Sometimes in the moment, we can’t see the full picture, but looking back, we can see God’s love surrounding us and supporting us.  Some distance from a situation gives us a new appreciation or a new way of framing what we have experienced.

Today’s Gospel is the prologue of John’s Gospel.  It is one of the more well-known passages of Scripture and it intentionally mirrors the creation story that is found in Genesis chapter 1.  John writes, “In the beginning was the word and the word was made flesh.”  In verse 5, we hear “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.  It is a commentary on the creation story where God separates the light from the dark.   The author of John is looking back on the creation story with new eyes and claiming that Jesus was there all along.  John’s experience of knowing Jesus allowed him to understand the creation of the world with new clarity.

Life is full of twists and turns, moments of great challenge, and moments of great joy.  Sometimes it takes a little distance from what we have encountered to trust that God was with us in the midst of it.  Other times, it takes a person showing up, a person reaching out with a phone call or making a visit to the hospital, to help us to see God’s role in the story.  It doesn’t mean that God wasn’t there before, only that we need to reframe the story so others can see God showing up too.

As I look at our pastoral care list this past month, either we have more going on in the lives of our congregation than ever before, or we are more in tune to praying for each other than ever before.  Or maybe it is a little bit of both.  But when we reach out in love to check on someone through an email, a card, a text message, or a visit (when it is safe and responsible) we are able to retell the story so that people can see God’s love breaking through.  It’s clear to me that many of you have been doing a remarkable job of this already. I hope your example can embolden the rest of us to follow suit so that we can help others know that God is in their lives.  That’s a pretty cool thing to be able to do.   

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Are there moments you have come to understand God was actively present in your life?  How did you come to that realization?  Who was the person who helped?

Daily Challenge:  Write an email or send a text message to someone on the prayer list.  Here is the list from last week.  If you are not a part of the Saint Stephen’s community, reach out to a random person you know that needs encouragement. 

Change of heart - February 13

Today’s Readings:  Psalm 136; Isa. 61:10-62:5; 2 Tim. 4:1-8; Mark 10:46-52

This week I got to catch up with three dear friends from seminary. It has been several months since we have all talked together. We swapped stories, laughed, and cried…and while we gathered virtually on a Zoom call, the warmth of our camaraderie was palpable. Our conversation included talk of the events at our parishes and at our seminary; the Seminary of the Southwest held an annual lecture this week, welcoming Ruby Sales as the speaker.

Ruby Sales’ name may sound familiar. After graduating from high school in 1965, the 17-year-old Alabamian got involved in the Civil Rights Movement and assisted with voter registration efforts. She was arrested at a demonstration in Lowndes County, along with 19-year-old activist Joyce Bailey, Episcopal seminarian Jonathan Daniels, and Roman Catholic priest Richard Morrisroe. After being released from jail on a hot summer day, the two White men and two Black women walked to the country store in Hayneville for a cold drink as they waited for a ride out of town. Their entry to the store was blocked by a volunteer county deputy named Tom Coleman, armed with a 12-gauge shotgun. Coleman threatened them and fired a shot at Ruby. Jonathan Daniels pushed her out of the way; the bullet hit Daniels in the chest and killed him instantly.

Ruby Sales emerged physically intact and emotionally wounded. Since those formational experiences in 1965, Sales has pursued her calling that includes roles as a public theologian, historian, activist, social critic, and educator (see her biographical sketch on this SSW page). She began The SpiritHouse Project, a non-profit organization dedicated to Daniels, and continues to preach and teach across the United States.

Part of Sales’ message this week really sticks with me: we must listen to everyone. Everyone. Every voice. Even when it differs from what we feel comfortable hearing. Especially then. Why? When we listen to all voices, we get to listen for what is behind the words. What is the motivation driving that person? Sales offers the scenario of a person who refuses to wear a mask in public. Perhaps at the heart of this resistance is a longing for personal connection, and a mask is just another imposed impediment to interacting face to face. By listening to one another in the chaos that swirls around us, we are drawn into deeper understanding, our hearts are warmed, and healing can begin.

We see in Mark 10 that sometimes listening to others is challenging. Blind Bartimaeus has been sitting by the roadside. As Jesus and his friends are heading out of Jericho, the beggar learns that Jesus the healer and teacher is approaching. Bartimaeus pleads loudly for Jesus to stop and heal him, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” The crowds shush the man. Though sitting on the ground, he shrieks even louder for Jesus. I can imagine the tension in the scene, as people around Bartimaeus look down on him, scold him, and move away from him. They do not want to hear Bartimaeus or be reminded of his needs.

Jesus changes the hearts of the crowds, for he stops. He sees the blind man. He listens. He hears the cries for pity and care. And the Messiah responds, “Call him here.” Jesus calls Bartimaeus over so that he can understand the man’s needs, and in doing so, the bystanders are moved to compassion and encouragement, saying to the man on the ground, “Take heart; get up, he is calling you.” We read of Bartimaeus springing up in a resurrection-like movement – rising from the ground, up to the hope of being made whole through the power of God. Jesus restores his sight after he asks to see again.

The community of people gathered on the road outside of Jericho experience their own healing that day. Rather than being annoyed with the chaotic, discordant noise of the beggar, the crowd truly sees the humanity of the man and includes him. They cease the efforts to quiet Bartimaeus’ voice, and instead hear his cry, entering into a moment of reconnection and respect for him.

It is hard to listen to voices that are discordant to our ears, especially when they are loud or angry or inconvenient. Jesus gives us the example to stand still in those times and invite those in need to draw near, so that we may deeply listen and understand. The life and work of Ruby Sales remind us of this. It is hard and holy work that we can only do with God’s help.

— Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When you hold a different belief that someone else, what do you do? Share it? Convince the person of your position? Invite them to chime in and keep your position to yourself?

With whom do you differ that you want to understand more? Who do you wish understood you?

Daily Challenge

Seek out a person who you know has a different belief than you on a topic of faith, social justice, politics, etc. Invite that person to share their perspective, with your sole job in this time as a listener. Seek to understand what undergirds their belief. Pray for that person, and for God to be with you, as you listen deeply.

The Inner Life of a Prophet - February 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Isa. 61:1-9; 2 Tim. 3:1-17; Mark 10:32-45

Today’s Reflection

Today’s passage from Isaiah gives us a glimpse into the inner life of a prophet, and insight into what work Isaiah sensed God calling him to do:

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to provide for those who mourn in Zion—to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit. They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, to display his glory. They shall build up the ancient ruins, they shall raise up the former devastations; they shall repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations (Isaiah 6: 1-4).

This work of bringing good news to the oppressed, binding up the broken-hearted, and proclaiming liberty to the captives is the ongoing work of all of us who follow in the footsteps of Jesus. In Christ, we find the love, mercy, and hope that allow us to tap into the deep wellspring from which we can draw what we need to comfort all who mourn, to strengthen faint spirits, and to repair the devastations of many generations.

When I think of bringing good news to the oppressed and repairing the devastations of many generations, I think of the work of the civil rights movement in the 20th century—work that continues to this day. Thurgood Marshall, while working as lead counsel for the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, argued Brown v. Board of Education before the Supreme Court. This was the landmark case in which the racial segregation of public schools in the United States was overturned, marking the beginning of the racial integration not just of our education system, but of every sphere of public life.

To be an apostle, means to be “one who is sent out.” While Marshall was based out of New York for the three decades of his work as a civil rights attorney, like Paul, he was constantly on the road. Marshall was “one who was sent out” to do the work of civil rights litigation, which required him to travel all around the country. Mainly he traveled throughout the Deep South, helping local NAACP attorneys to file legal cases as part of their coordinated efforts to desegregate schools, secure equal voting rights, and ensure equal treatment of all before the law.

Thurgood Marshall faced constant danger as he traveled from place to place doing the work God had given him to do. Time and again, he risked his life for the sake of what was right. When he would be on his way to a Southern town, word would be sent around the community that “a sick uncle” needed people to sit up with him through the night, which was code that people were needed to house Marshall overnight and guard him while he slept. Often, for his safety, he would move between two or three different locations each night while on the road. Sometimes, he even would be smuggled into a town in the back of a hearse.

The documentary film Mr. Civil Rights: Thurgood Marshall and the NAACP includes a recording of Marshall himself telling the story of one of the many times he was threatened: “I was changing trains and I had about a two- or three-hour stopover. This white man came up beside me in plain clothes, with a great big pistol, and he said, “[Expletive], what are you doing here?” And I said, “Well, I am waiting.” And he said, “What did you say?” I said, “Sir! I am waiting for a train.” And he said, “Well, there’s only one more train that comes through here at 4 o’clock and you’d better be on it, because the sun never did go on down on a live [black man] in this town.”

But Marshall kept taking the train southward, knowing that he needed to persevere in doing the work that God had given him to do. As biographer Juan Williams explains, “he develop[ed] a reputation in small communities that’s really incredible. He bec[ame] almost a Christ-like figure. Salvation is going to come if we can just get Lawyer Marshall to come down here and argue with these Southern sheriffs and these Southern judges and these all-white juries…. if we can just get Thurgood Marshall.”

In our Gospel passage for today, Jesus says: “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many’” (Mark 10: 43-45). This is what we can learn from Thurgood Marshall, and all those others who, then and now, devote their lives to lift up the lives of others. If we are followers of Christ, then we, too, are called not to be served, but to serve.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What does it look like to bring good news to the oppressed, bind up the broken-hearted, and proclaim liberty to the captives? What opportunities do you see in your own life and in our own community to do this prophetic work?

Daily Challenge

Learn more about what the Episcopal Church is doing to promote racial healing and reconciliation by exploring the Absalom Jones Center for Racial Healing in Atlanta through their website or their YouTube channel.

A Good Man is Hard to Find - February 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [83] or 146, 147; PM Psalm 85, 86; Isa. 60:1-17; 2 Tim. 2:14-26; Mark 10:17-31

Warning:  This reflection is intended for mature audiences only.  And while I say this jokingly, I am about to write about a pretty dark story and do want you to be prepared in case you need to file away for a later time or skip altogether.

One of my favorite authors is the Southern Gothic writer Flannery O’Connor, a devout Catholic who died in 1964.   While she did publish two novels, she is most well known for her short stories which often deal with elements of the Christian Faith.  While her stories are especially challenging and dark, they convey important truths of the Christian faith that other approaches often cannot illumine to the same effect.  Of her short stories, one of the most well-known is “A Good Man is Hard to Find” written in 1953.  You can read it here if this reflection doesn’t scare you away.

The story is about a family that heads off on vacation from Georgia to Tennessee.  The grandmother, who is as pretentious as possible, talks them out of visiting Florida because an escaped convict named ‘The Misfit’ has just broken out of prison.  The grandmother believes with all of her heart that she is a wonderful and loving lady, but the reader can easily see through the shiny veneer to her judgment and self-righteousness that define her character.

Well, the family has an accident, and who should come along, but The Misfit and his crew.  At the end of the story, The Misfit leads the grandmother out in the woods to kill her and she begins pleading for her life.  They begin to talk about faith and the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead, a story The Misfit is struggling to believe. The Misfit is clearly upset and the grandmother reaches over to comfort him.  And in the only moment of true empathy in the story, the grandmother breaks from her judgmental air and self-righteousness and touches his shoulder saying, “Why you're one of my babies. You're one of my own children!"

The Misfit recoils “as if a snake had bitten him,” and shoots her dead.  When one of the Misfit’s entourage asks him if she was a good lady, The Misfit responds in one of the most haunting lines in all of literature: "She would of been a good woman, if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life."

It’s probably important to know that O’Connor was a very faithful Christian who truly wrestled with important theological questions.  She radically affirmed that Christianity was not only freedom from death, but it gives us the power not to be afraid of death.  For this reason, she can write about death in a way that while is shocking, forces us to wrestle with our belief system. 

Now that I have given you a very dark illustration, an easier illustration is when a man comes to Jesus saying, “Good Teacher what must I do to inherit eternal life.”  Jesus’ response is not what we expect as he says, “No one is good but God alone.”  When I think of much of my own life, even the motivation today as a priest, it is to be good.  And don’t get me wrong, we should try to be good, and most of you all have created a life that is filled with doing really good and charitable things, things that we should celebrate, and use to point to beauty and hope in this world.  But we are also human, and while we strive to be good, this does not make us good in itself.  For example, I would have been a better person my whole life, if The Misfit was right there.

As startling as these stories are, they can also be seen as remarkably hopeful.  The Misfit and the grandmother are arguing about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.  The grandmother knew this to be true. See, I think most of us believe that we make good decisions or are inherently good (even if we are actually 99.7% filled with good motivations) and yet we find ourselves in conflict with each other advocating for our goodness.  Think of all of the people who you vehemently dislike their positions and viewpoints and yet probably admire many other things about them.  We, out of our desire to be best, right, or good are in conflict with one other.  And yet we can’t seem to ‘good’ ourselves out the mess we have made.  It’s a good thing Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead.  That God is good, and God has the power to change everything else.  

So while it’s probably important to strive for goodness, let’s worry more about our belief in God’s love to transform the world and turn to God for grace and mercy.

 John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What are the risks (or shadow side) of believing you are an inherently good person?  How do we reconcile that with the call to act in love towards all?

Daily Challenge:  Pay attention today and see if there are moments where motivation can be mixed in with the need for affirmation.  If this happens, write it down to remember later.

Getting ready is a process - February 10

Today’s Readings:  AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Isa. 59:15b-21; 2 Tim. 1:15-2:13; Mark 10:1-16

Do you ever (metaphorically) drag your feet getting ready in the morning? The delays in showering, dressing, and exiting the front door are not always because there is some existential dread about what meets you when you leave the house. Perhaps you put it off because there are other personal tasks that you need to attend to first, or you get distracted by a basket of laundry, or there is a news segment that gets you thinking about your dad, so you give him a call to discuss. Before you know it, you are not prepared and it is time to go…you are running late.

One of the messages in our Holy Scriptures that we hear repeatedly is to be prepared, to stay awake, to be alert. We hear it in the prophets’ words. Jesus as teacher prepares his followers, and all who will hear, about that final day when every knee will bow and every tongue will confess God’s sovereignty, ushering in a space of universal peace. Paul D. Hanson, Professor of Divinity Emeritus at Harvard Divinity School, writes that to be prepared for that day, we engage in the daily tasks ascribed in the guidance from one of the twelve minor prophets, Micah:

He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
    and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
    and to walk humbly with your God? (Micah 6:8)

In Isaiah 59, it is not we who are preparing, but it is God who is getting ready. And why? In the prophetic language found earlier in Isaiah, there is much encouragement around God’s promises ahead for restoration, if the Hebrew people would just be faithful and follow God. As my mom would say, “Straighten up and fly right.” Those divine promises were not immediately delivered. The people grew restless and weary. The critiques and attempts to shift social and political structures yielded little change. In this later portion of Isaiah (called third Isaiah), we see an emergence of more apocalyptic language, as the exilic Israelites yearn for “a more direct path to God’s reign” (Hanson). That comes through in verse 16 today:

He saw that there was no one,
he was appalled that there was no one to intervene;
so his own arm achieved salvation for him,
and his own righteousness sustained him.

What follows is the prophet’s description of how Yahweh prepares for a direct intervention into the lives and hearts of this world, for the purpose of expunging evil and infusing truth. God does not drag his feet or delay. And what does God do to get ready? Put on righteousness like a breastplate, salvation like a helmet, vengeance as the day’s outfit, and fury as the overcoat. Intense, huh?

It is more comfortable for us to lean into pastoral, comforting images of God’s mercy. How might we also accept that the righteousness and passion of God can be expressed in divine wrath – fury and vengeance? And how might we draw near to God, repenting from those evils that we have done, and those done on our behalf, so that as a people redeemed, we approach the feet of Jesus as the children of God, with our hearts focused on the daily task of doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God today, and every day.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have your words been lacking in truth? When have you seen someone else be less than forthcoming? How did you respond?

How are you preparing each day for a walk with God?

Daily Challenge 

Meditate on what it means to prepare for receiving God by doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly. What in your life makes this hard? What makes it easy? Pick one obstacle that you work on removing for today, so that your spiritual connection with God might be less cluttered today.

Rekindling the Gift of God in You - February 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 78:1-39; PM Psalm 78:40-72; Isa. 59:1-15a; 2 Tim. 1:1-14; Mark 9:42-50

Today’s Reflection

“I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.” –2 Timothy 1:5

One thing I love about the letter Paul writes to Timothy, his precious son in the faith, is that when Paul thought of Timothy, he was “reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.” Timothy had the faith required to follow Jesus and join with Paul in spreading the Gospel because of the faith that lived first in Timothy’s grandmother Lois and in his mother Eunice. Lois and Eunice shared their faith with Timothy by living out their faith in that “spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline,” which Paul is reminding Timothy to rekindle now that he is an adult and an apostle of Jesus.

Timothy’s grandmother Lois and mother Eunice remind me of some of my own forebears in the faith. Lois and Eunice remind me of my Granny and Granddaddy Bridges, who for decades were very involved members of the First United Methodist Church in the small town of Cuthbert, which is in southwest Georgia. Granny was a member of one of the ladies’ circles and a faithful choir member. Granddaddy regularly served as a greeter and usher.

Granny and Granddaddy prayed and read their Bibles and devotional books every day. When we visited, if I got up early enough in the morning, I might find Granddaddy sitting in his recliner reading his Bible and devotional, while I might find Granny reading hers up later in the evening. The faith that I have today is due, in part, to seeing the faith of my Granny and Granddaddy lived out in “a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.”

As Paul wrote to Timothy, his son in the faith: “I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you… for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.” That word “rekindle” is an important word to notice here. I also really like the way it’s translated in the ESV or English Standard Version of the Bible: “fan into flame the gift of God that is within you.” In order to turn away from a “spirit of cowardice” and turn toward a spirit of doing big things with God, we need a daily “re-kindling” of God’s gift living inside each of us.

So how do we go about keeping the fire of our faith kindled, of fanning it into flame, so that the light of Christ is not snuffed out, but is always shining within us and lighting our way? Or, as the apostles asked Jesus: How do we increase our faith? Paul, in this letter to Timothy, gives us an idea. In the NRSV version of 2 Timothy 1, Paul advises Timothy and his community to “Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.” I find the ESV translation to be even more clear: “Follow the pattern of the sound words [or: the healthy words] that you have heard from me.” In order to guard the “good treasure” entrusted to us by the Holy Spirit living in us, we are to follow the healthy pattern.

Once we decide we want to turn our lives toward following Christ, of being centered in him, we can then choose to keep the flame of our faith burning through committing to a pattern or rule of life that includes praying, learning, worshipping, and blessing others—and, of course, making time for rest so that we, and the fire of our faith, don’t burn out. For me, building both prayer and rest into my daily pattern of life fans into flame the spiritual energy necessary to drive the other elements of worshipping and learning, and then going forth and blessing others. What matters most is that we are always turning back toward God, making a bit of time and space to connect with God in the daily rhythm of life that God has given to each of us.

As you go forth into whatever life has in store for you today and in the days to come: “I pray that out of his glorious riches God may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.”

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Who has been a Lois or Eunice figure in your life? Are you (or could you be) a Lois or Eunice to someone else?

Daily Challenge

Listen to Presiding Bishop Michael Curry describe one healthy pattern (or rule of life) developed by the Episcopal Church, which he calls the Way of Love.

Muting our Microphones - February 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Isa. 58:1-12; Gal. 6:11-18; Mark 9:30-41

On Saturday, our Diocese gathered for our Annual Convention.  Early in the morning, there were 345 people logged onto zoom. You might not be surprised to know that there were a few procedural explanations that had to happen at the beginning.  We adopted new rules of order for zoom meetings and at 9:05 am, the moderator muted everyone’s microphones.  Yes, 345 people started a meeting without their microphones on mute and as we begin our convention, someone was having a rough morning and a cacophony of curse words came spewing from my computer speakers.   It was honestly one of the funniest moments I have had in zoom meeting.  And while I’m sure the culprit is mortified, with 345 people logged in, no one knows who it was, and I’m sure it was an honest mistake, but we certainly heard a conversation that wasn’t intended for the larger group.

I feel like the disciples forgot to mute their microphones when Jesus walks into the house in Capernaum.  They are arguing and when Jesus asks them what they are arguing about, they are silent.  They know they have been discussing what they shouldn’t be discussing.  They are arguing about who is the greatest.  Jesus doesn’t tell them what they are doing wrong.  They already know!  Amazing isn’t it.

One of the most provocative statements I have heard about preaching was by the Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber.  She was speaking to the clergy in my previous diocese and she has a reputation for being provocative and edgy.  And yet, her preaching advice was simple.  Our job is not to tell people what they are doing is wrong.  They already know!  Instead, it is to break open their hearts so that they may hear the Good News. 

We all have conversations that we don’t want to be heard by others. And from time to time, we forget to put our microphones on mute.  It speaks to a deeper truth, that we all have work to do because we are humans in need of God’s grace.  But each of us also has the work of helping our hearts be broken open to hearing God’s Good News.  And I am inspired to believe it’s a much healthier place to begin than worrying about correcting the errs of everyone’s ways.  At least, it’s what Jesus did.  And that’s not a bad place to begin.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Are there conversations you remember having that you later regrated?  What have you learned from these in the past?

Daily Challenge:  Consider this: How can you be a person who helps others’ hearts be broken open to God’s Good News?  Commit to this approach instead of correcting others that you disagree with.

From the mountain into chaos - February 6

Today’s Readings: Psalm 75, 76; Isa. 57:3-13; Gal. 5:25-6:10; Mark 9:14-29

When my sisters and I were teenagers, our mom introduced us to the local PBS station’s Saturday evening line-up that included a British sitcom, “Fawlty Towers”. It was originally produced in the mid-1970s, and had gone into syndication. The four of us would sit on our sectional sofa, transfixed by the comedic genius of John Cleese and Connie Booth. In many episodes, I remember being doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down my face, as scenes of absurdity piled upon one another. Cleese plays the lead male character Basil Fawlty, bumbling proprietor of a struggling hotel called Fawlty Towers, situated in the English countryside. Basil can’t win for losing – due to his own ineptitude and inability to play well with others, and the dynamics at play with his opinionated wife, colorful staff, and quirky hotel guests help cement an air of chaos and hilarity.

This morning as I read Mark 9, I am struck by a parallel chaos around Jesus. He has just been up on the mountain with Peter, James, and John, where his face was “transfigured before them and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them.” Then, while glowing, Jesus was talking with Elijah with Moses. Once conversations wrap up, Jesus descends the high mountain with his disciple pals and finds a big crowd. Scribes, disciples, and the crowd are squabbling among themselves. Chaos abounds.

Jesus asks the crowd (and maybe his disciples), “What are you arguing about with them?” The answer is a non sequitur…it doesn’t speak to what Jesus has inquired. Instead, he hears a father pipe up, “Teacher, I brought you my son; he has a spirit that makes him unable to speak…” Once the concerned dad finishes his ask of the healer, Jesus conducts two conversations at the same time. The first response is to the angst-filled crowd and scribes, “You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you?” I imagine in the same breath, Jesus delivers the second response to the father and the crowd, “Bring him to me.”

I wonder about how the emotional timbre of this crowd must have felt in contrast to the holy time of sharing Jesus experienced upon the mountain with Elijah and Moses. And did that sharp contrast heighten his harsh response to the crowd in this moment? Jesus sure does sound put out by the back-biting nitwits surrounding him. I can hear Basil Fawlty’s tone of exasperation in Jesus. In contrast to the fictitious British hotelier, Jesus moves on and gets proximate to the vulnerability and brokenness of the boy possessed by the unclean spirit. We see the healer at work, diagnosing, praying, expunging the control of that demonic essence over the man’s son. We hear a phrase oft repeated, “I believe; help my unbelief!” We experience Jesus’ witness to the power of focused prayer.

John Piper wrote a devotional that speaks to these heart-felt words, “I believe; help my unbelief!” and names them as a prayer – and a good one, because “it acknowledges that without God we cannot believe as we ought to believe.”

Whether you are feeling in a tizzy like Basil Fawlty, or grounded in this very moment like Jesus, know that God will meet you in prayer. Try the model that John Piper extends, as we pray for deeper faith in God this day: “O Lord, thank you for my faith. Sustain it. Strengthen it. Deepen it. Don’t let it fail. Make it the power of my life, so that in everything I do, you get the glory as the great Giver. Amen.”

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What makes believing in God easy? Where do you find challenges? What effects do you feel from prayer?

Daily Challenge 

Spend at least five minutes of prayer in a space or posture that brings you peace. Maybe that is on a walk, or in a quiet place. Remove yourself from chaos and pray for deepened faith today.

Mountaintop Experience - February 5

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Isa. 56:1-8; Gal. 5:16-24; Mark 9:2-13

Today’s Reflection

Back when we were younger and had more energy and fewer responsibilities, Tyler and I would go on long drives on a Saturday or Sunday, whether just for the afternoon or longer drives that would take all day. When we lived in Texas the first time (from 1999-2004), we would regularly set out for some place like Enchanted Rock or Guadalupe River State Park in the Hill Country or Galveston Island on the Gulf Coast—destinations which took at least three hours each way to get to from where we lived in Bryan, Texas. But we enjoyed being able to get out on the road under the wide-open Texas sky so we could explore different corners of the great big state of Texas—as they like to say, it’s “a whole other country.”

All that time in the car was worth it because we had the chance to get outside of our normal neighborhood and routines to be inspired by the beautiful rocky landscapes of the Texas Hill Country—or, when we were feeling too landlocked in Bryan, spend time breathing in the salt air by the Gulf of Mexico on Galveston Island. These afternoon road trips always felt like a reset button on life, as we would return to our home in Bryan and our routines there feeling refreshed, renewed, and ready to take on another week of responsibilities.

Last Saturday, Tyler and I finally made some time to take an afternoon road trip out to Cheaha State Park. We have been meaning to start exploring some of the Alabama state parks but hadn’t yet managed to make it anywhere outside of Birmingham. It can be hard to break the inertia that is staying comfortably at home—especially after a year of making a point to stay safely at home during a global pandemic. But finally, we made our way out to Cheaha. While I was not looking forward to a long car ride, as we began to get out of Birmingham and onto the open highway toward Cheaha, my heart began to feel lighter and I started to reflect on all the road trips we had taken in days past.

Once we turned off the interstate and onto the two-lane country roads that take you up to Cheaha, I felt inspired by the different trees and the incline as we began to get into higher elevation. A big part of why we were headed to Cheaha is because we wanted to go to the highest point in Alabama, and to be, if only for a few hours, up in the hills and small mountains of our new home state. We were getting close to the park when around the next curve in the road we saw an overlook, where we got out for a few minutes to enjoy the vista of the mountains on the horizon. And then, once we were in the park, we walked out on the wooden boardwalk to Bald Rock, enjoying the walk through the bare winter trees and the lichen-covered boulders as we made our way out to the observation deck to enjoy another sweeping, spectacular view of hills, mountains, and forests. There’s just something about being up on a mountaintop or at the edge of the ocean that sparks a sense of closeness with God and an appreciation for all the beauty, intricacy, and vastness of Creation.

As we read in Mark 9 today, this was the experience of Peter, James, and John when they went up to the mountaintop with Jesus and were present for Jesus’ Transfiguration—when he was gleaming in heavenly light while conversing with Moses and Elijah. Peter, James, and John felt so inspired and close to God that they never wanted to leave; they wanted to build three huts on the mountain for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah so that they could make this mountaintop experience go on forever.

But God did not intend for their mountaintop experience—or ours—to last forever. Rather, these moments are gifts from God, meant to renew our faith and help us to hold onto it more faithfully when we return to our usual places and routines. As Henri Nouwen once said, “This is the experience of the fullness of time. These moments are given to us so that we can remember them when God seems far away and everything appears empty and useless. These experiences are true moments of grace.”

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What landscapes do you find inspiring? What are some of your go-to happy places where you feel your spirit renewed and refreshed as you are reminded of God through the beauty of Creation?

Daily Challenge

Find some time to get outside into a landscape that renews your soul this week. Whether you take a walk around your neighborhood, a hike at a nearby park, or a drive to a destination further afield, commit to getting to a place—be it a mountaintop, a hillside, a forest, or a river—where you can have your own mountaintop experience.