Learning from our Children - June 24

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 105:1-22; PM Psalm 105:23-45; 1 Samuel 8:1-22; Acts 6:15-7:16; Luke 22:24-30

This week, Anne and I and the kids are on vacation, staying up in Monteagle, Tennessee in the Monteagle Sunday School Assembly.  The origins of the place date back to 1882 when Sunday School teachers across the south wanted a place to gather to broaden their own depth of knowledge and culture.  From the start, the Assembly was an ecumenical movement in Tennessee, with a close tie to the first Assembly in Lake Chautauqua, New York. 

Today, a robust program takes place in the summer.  There are lectures during the day and often during the evening.  I have enjoyed gathering for evening prayer and hearing a choral group from Sewanee and an old acquaintance, a singer-songwriter from Nashville.  One of the best parts of being up here is letting our children run free.  They can hop on their bikes on their own, and ride down to join in the children and youth programming every morning while Anne and I go for a long walk or jog. 

One of the things I have noticed about my children in this setting is their openness to embrace something new.  It probably stems from feeling safe, but they approach the people in this setting with excitement and willingness, eager to make new friends, and trusting in a way that I suspect will fade over time.  It is a beautiful thing to watch and see.

In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, there are stories of the disciples arguing about who is the greatest.  Each account puts a different emphasis on how the disciples are called to serve and not be served and each draws different but important imagery of children.  In Luke’s account in today’s reading, Jesus tells them to become like the youngest.  In Mark (9:36), Jesus takes a child and puts him in the midst of them.  Matthew (18:3) is probably the strongest language, “unless you become like children you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”  

For me, I can conceptually understand that our faith is about serving.  The Christian life is not about what can receive in material things from other people, or our elevation of status, and prestige.  The Christian life is about how we serve each other, especially those who are in need. In a sense, it is about how we can give of ourselves in a way that models God’s gift of love to us. 

But there must be something else at play because in each of the Synoptic Gospels, this imagery of service is matched with the imagery of children.  Is it the willingness to embrace life before we have become suspicious of others?  Is it the blind trust that many of our children have?  Is the fearlessness that they ride down each morning to, willing to join in whatever the day brings?  What can we learn from the youngest that can teach each of us about God’s invitation to a life of service and giving? 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Were you more or less trusting as a child?  What is it about childhood that could reinvigorate your faith?

Daily Challenge:  Write down a few things that are different today for you than they were as a child, specifically with your approach to life.  Is there some way of being or trusting that you could adopt as a temporary (or not so temporary) practice? 

And other duties as assigned – June 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144, 1 Samuel 7:2-17; Acts 6:1-15; Luke 22:14-23

In the 1st century, the teaching responsibilities of the apostles were growing quickly. In Acts 6 we read about the Greek Christians who fretted that their needy widows were not getting enough attention and care from the priests. Deacons were instituted to help the apostles in ministry. We need partners in ministry, serving Christ and the people of God. As I think about the charge given to clergy in the entrance into the diaconate and the priesthood, there is a phrase inferred from both services as a cover-all: "and other duties as assigned.” It isn’t just clergy who have this kind of statement included. Other roles you and I fill may also have this expectation to serve, participate, and respond as needs arise.

A couple of weeks ago, it was a slow and quiet afternoon. I picked up my five-year-old from the preschool summer program. He was hanging out in my office while I wrapped up the day’s must-do tasks. Ding! A text message appeared on my phone from Marianne the Saint Stephen’s parish administrator. Depicted in the attachment were the large windows by the double doors downstairs in the church, where we enter by way of the porte cochere and take the elevator or stairs up to the gathering space. Near the center of the picture was a small splash of red. Looking closer, I zoomed in and realized it was a photo of a cardinal inside the church building!

I recalled my childhood when my mom would have to catch and secure the two finches which had been released from the birdcage (in my room) by our mischievous cat Sneakers. Similar to the laundry basket my mom would use to contain the birds, I grabbed a mail basket from the workroom and my cassock (a long black robe, part of liturgical attire). Robinson and I rushed to the bird’s vicinity to assist Marianne.

The cardinal most likely flew inside when the doors were propped open for a delivery, and it was now struggling to get out. It kept flying into windows, hurting itself. Tiny red feathers were wafting down from the ledges high above. It was quite a moment of excitement as we worked to redirect the red bird away from the confusion of the glass windows and toward an exit to the great outdoors. The cardinal finally perched in a windowsill in the hallway.

Marianne opened a door to the patio and stood to the side, blocking the bird from flying back downstairs. I held up my cassock like a large sheet and walked slowly to the window, covering the bird and glass pane. Marianne reached forward and gently cradled the bird in her hands, while nestled in the black fabric of the vestments. The bird cried out frantically and I squealed, standing back. Marianne calmly released the bird, and Robinson proclaimed with glee that the bird flew away safely to the bushes beyond the patio.

By no means is “Bird 911” on my letter of agreement, and yet, ministry is a team sport of engagement, participation, and response. I think responding to bird emergencies falls into that “other” category.

Where ever you are called to serve Christ and all persons today, I pray that you remember to work as a team, improvise when you have to, and feel joy and give thanks to God at all times.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Think about a time when you were called to step in or step up to fill a need? What did you do? Who did you help? Who helped you? What did you learn?

Daily Challenge

Review the passage appointed today from Acts 6, and also read The Examination from The Ordination of a Deacon (BCP 543). What stands out to you? Similarities between Holy Scripture and the liturgy of the Book of Common Prayer? What questions do you have? Reach out to one of the Saint Stephen’s clergy with where you are still curious!

Wade in the Water - June 22

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 97, 99, [100]; PM Psalm 94, [95]; 1 Samuel 6:1-16; Acts 5:27-42; Luke 21:37-22:13
Today’s Reflection

‘We gave you strict orders not to teach in this name, yet here you have filled Jerusalem with your teaching and you are determined to bring this man’s blood on us.’ But Peter and the apostles answered, ‘We must obey God rather than any human authority.’

‘So in the present case, I tell you, keep away from these men and let them alone; because if this plan or this undertaking is of human origin, it will fail; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them—in that case you may even be found fighting against God!’  —Acts 5: 28-29, 38-39

Have you ever done something that you were expressly forbidden to do, but you did it anyway because you knew for certain that it was the right thing to do? This is the situation Peter and his fellow apostles found themselves facing in Jerusalem. They had been doing “many signs and wonders” and as a result “people also gathered from the towns around Jerusalem, bringing the sick and those afflicted with unclean spirits, and they were all healed” (5:12, 16). The apostles were doing what they knew to be the right thing, following in Jesus’ footsteps by continuing the work of healing he had commissioned them to continue in his name.

But all the attention and acclaim the apostles were drawing to the Way of Christ caused the high priest and his party, the Sadducees, to be “filled with jealousy” (5:17) and they threw the apostles into prison. But in the middle of the night, an angel “opened the prison doors and brought them out,” specifically commanding them to “‘Go stand in the temple and speak to the people all the words of this Life.’ And when they heard this, they entered the temple at daybreak and began to teach” (5: 19-21). When it was discovered that Peter and friends had left their jail cell and were out proclaiming the Good News again, they were hauled into the council to give an account and they simply stated: “We must obey God rather than men” (5:29).

This story reminds me of one of the many dramatic moments in the civil rights movement. In the spring and summer of 1964, Saint Augustine, Florida, was a focal point of civil rights activists organized by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and other leaders of the SCLC as well as the NAACP. While in other places around the South the focal points of integration efforts had included interstate and local buses, lunch counters, and public schools, the focus in Saint Augustine were public places related to tourism: a motel restaurant, public beaches, and a motel swimming pool.

On June 11, 1964, King and his associates asked to be seated at the Monson Motor Lodge’s restaurant and ended up being taken away to jail. As one news account at the time described King’s influence in Saint Augustine, when King preached in the city’s “stifling hot churches where they gathered to sing the old slave songs, mournful and sweet, and the new civil rights songs, spirited and challenging … He told them to purify themselves, to ‘prepare to offer your very bodies for freedom and be ready to be clubbed and kicked without retaliating’” (Jules Loh, LA Times, 5 July 1964).

Equally undeterred and inspired by King’s arrest, one week later, a small group of young activists decided to bring further attention to segregated facilities by orchestrating an integrated swim at the Monson’s pool. Two of the swimmers were young white men, Al Lingo and Peter Shiras, who were registered guests at the motel, and they then invited five African American guests to swim with them, including fellow activist J.T. Johnson. When the integrated group of young people waded into the waters of the pool together on that hot, humid Florida day, the motel’s manager James Brock came running to the poolside and started dumping muriatic acid, a pool chemical, into the water to hurt them or at least scare them out of the water.

Photographers on the scene captured drama, and images of the poolside conflict and an off-duty police officer diving in to take the swimmers off to jail appeared in both newspapers and evening news broadcasts around the country and the world. President Lyndon Johnson complained, “Our whole foreign policy will go to hell over this,” given how hypocritical it made the U.S. look on the world stage. Some believe that these dramatic images from the Monson pool helped push politicians in Washington, DC to finally pass the Civil Rights Act just a few weeks later, on July 2, 1964.

In the long, hot summer of 1964, it was imperative for integrationists to bring before the eyes of the nation and the world a vivid picture of why they could wait no longer for civil rights. Though they knew that blacks and whites swimming together was expressly forbidden by both the laws and the social customs of their time and place, these seven activists—and so many thousands of others—decided that they, like Peter and the apostles, “must obey God rather than any human authority” (5:29).

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When have you chosen to do something you were expressly forbidden to do, but you did it anyway because you knew for certain it was the right thing to do?

How did you manage the tension between knowing the possible consequences of your action with your strong conviction that you were acting morally and ethically?

Daily Challenge 

Learn more about the civil rights movement in St. Augustine, including oral history interviews with Al Lingo and J.T. Johnson, and some of the iconic photographs of that day, on the Civil Rights Library of St. Augustine online archive.

You can also read my chapter, “Wade in the Water: African American and Local News Accounts of the 1964 Monson Motor Lodge Swim-In” in the book Like Wildfire: The Rhetoric of the Civil Rights Sit-Ins (University of South Carolina Press, 2020).

Leap of Faith - June 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 89:1-18; PM Psalm 89:19-52; 1 Samuel 5:1-12; Acts 5:12-26; Luke 21:29-36

My parents recorded on a blank VHS the 15th Anniversary of Saturday Night Live when I was a kid.  I wasn’t allowed to stay up that late, and we didn’t have cable for hours of useless entertainment, so I watched the VHS over and over falling in love with Eddie Murphy, Dan Aykroyd, Dana Carvey, and Steve Martin.  On weekends, we would walk about a mile up to Union Avenue to an old VHS movie rental place called Video Magic.  My sister and I would systematically journey through the new releases until we had each found a movie for the weekend.  On special occasions, we could also pick out a box of candy as a treat. 

Probably as a result of my love of Saturday Night Live, I often picked out movies when one of the SNL classic actors or actresses would release a new movie.  That’s how I stumbled upon a Steve Martin dud, Leap of Faith. It might not have been a great movie, but it was effective in instilling a sense of skepticism in religious leaders.  In Leap of Faith, Martin is a conman faith healer who uses tent revivals to milk those who show up out of their hard-earned money. 

The movie is somewhat redeeming when Martin finds some sense of faith after a town that is devastated by drought receives a miraculous downpour, but it was instilled in me early on, that faith healing is foolishness.  Leap of Faith is not the only Hollywood attempt to draw attention to revivals and prayers and the often shallowness behind them.  HBO has a hit in The Righteous Gemstones.  Authors Flannery O’Connor and Shelby Foote have touched upon similar themes as well.  We are skeptical of God’s power to heal and certainly our human agency to usher in that healing.

But here is the thing: I pray every day for people who are sick, people who desire healing, and people who are grappling with their prognosis from some ailment, medical decisions, or in need of healing.  And I can’t imagine my relationship with those people and their friends and family if I didn’t pray. Since the beginning of Covid-19 and our daily commitment to the Daily Office, I have felt more connected to the community that gathers, and on random occasions have reached out because of prayer, often in times when that connection seems warranted. I think that prayer has changed my relationship with each person I have prayed for, but I can’t quite explain why.  

I am struck that as the church was beginning, as Christianity was getting off the ground as a movement for love and hope and resurrection, people were being healed.  They were certainly being prayed for and it changed the lives of the community so much so that we hear about it in Acts today.  I am challenged to believe the church grew in leaps and bounds because some of what we have heard is true.

I’m not sure how healing works, but I know that we need prayer. These stories might sound foreign, or they might sound foolish, but they inspired our faith tradition to take seriously our call to pray for each other, to pray for God’s healing, whatever that might be.   

I’m committed to praying for you.  And I hope you will pray for me too.  I don’t know where that leads us, except that God has invited us into a crazy and bold relationship.  For what may I pray for you today. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What is your practice of prayer?  Do you pray for others?  How so?  Do you keep a list, call friends, write letters?   How does prayer change your life?

Daily Challenge: Commit to praying for someone today.  Set some time apart and create a plan.  Maybe figure out how to incorporate them into a regular rhythm of prayer. 

Simple strokes – June 19

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 87, 90; PM Psalm 136; 1 Samuel 4:1b-11; Acts 4:32-5:11; Luke 21:20-28

While in Huntsville, I attended a retreat on the prayerful meditative practice of Zentangle. After instruction on designs and techniques, we made repetitive small strokes on paper with nice pens. Archival ink, thin nibs, and a steady flow of color upon a page. Simple stroke after simple stroke, the intentional lines upon the small sheet of paper became an opening to meditation, relaxation, and enjoyment, where the goal is not perfection, but rather making one line at a time, bringing a sense of reflection and stillness.

Psalm 136 speaks to me as a source of reflection and stillness in scripture today. It is a prayer of grounding in God. It is a retrospective into the ancient times, naming and claiming the mercy of God that is wider, deeper, and more dependable than those things in our world that are passing away. Each simple verse – a lyrical stroke – ends with the same phrase, translated in our Book of Common Prayer as “for his mercy endures for ever.” 26 times. Tiresome? Perhaps…but as I think about Zentangle and the small intentional lines of focus, I find myself moving from a state of ignoring the words of Psalm 136 to a place where I listen and focus on each word.

God’s mercy endures for ever. (Okay, God shows mercy…what happens when I am merciful to others? Or am I merciful?)

God’s mercy endures for ever. (Mercy – what does that mean? It is sometimes understood as steadfast love or loving kindness.)

God’s mercy endures for ever. (The word ‘endure’ is implied in Hebrew…and the repetition 26 times is a symbol, perhaps, of the persistence and stability of God’s mercy.)

God’s mercy endures for ever. (For always and forever. Gotcha.)

Here is my takeaway today: faith in the Lord is a series of simple strokes – moments of our lives woven together into a tapestry. Not every mark is perfect; it does not have to be. Hebrews 11 tells stories of people of faith, those who have lived and tried to pay attention to God, having faith in the Lord one day at a time. God does not promise the road will be easy; in fact, there are scary, messy, and hard days. Yet, we are called to rest in God’s hands. Take a moment to find a space for reflection and stillness today. Feel gratitude for God. And know that God’s loving mercy endures for ever.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What is a meditative practice that is helpful for you?

How does the word “mercy” resonate with you? What about the word “endure”? Where do you see God in those words?

Daily Challenge

Sit with Psalm 136. Pray through the arc of the story: gratitude for God’s glory, God’s role as creator, God’s role as protector and advocate, and ending in thanks to God who reigns on earth and in heaven. Listen for where you are needing God today: In gratitude? In faith? In healing of body or spirit? In guidance? Put those cares upon God and take five minutes to journal about your needs.

Tea Leaves and Hopefulness - June 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; 1 Samuel 3:1-21; Acts 2:37-47; Luke 21:5-19

Today’s Reflection

This week, I’ve been up in Kanuga, North Carolina, for a conference on Christian formation. I brought my daughters along with me to get some R&R in the mountains. I planned it so that we could stay on a couple extra days to do some site-seeing in a part of the country we love but haven’t visited in several years. Yesterday, we ended up making a day trip across the state line into South Carolina. I used to live there 25 years ago when I went to Clemson for grad school, so it feels like going home to be able to retrace old paths and share memories with them from what seems a million years ago now.

As I was looking at the map online and planning a trip down toward Table Rock and Clemson, I accidentally came across something that immediately piqued my interest: Table Rock Tea Company. Now, if you spend any amount of time with me, whether at my home or office (or even on Zoom), you will quickly learn that I drink a few cups of hot tea a day. Being a tea drinker is something I picked up from my mom, and then the habit was further cemented when I spent a semester studying in England in my junior year of college. This habit is so important to me, and even tied into my daily prayer practices, that I even brought an electric kettle and a few boxes of my favorite teas all the way to Kanuga to ensure that I would enjoy cups of tea while sitting on the screened porch of our cottage, looking out toward Kanuga Lake.

So, all this is to say that when I looked up Table Rock Tea Company and found it wasn’t a store or a café but is, in fact, a small farm where a family grows, processes, and blends their own artisanal teas, I knew that we would really need to get ourselves there for one of their daily tours. Since Table Rock is only 45 minutes south of Kanuga, and it was a beautiful day, we headed down to learn more about how tea is grown in an unexpected place like Table Rock, South Carolina.

It turns out that Jennifer and Steve used to run a non-profit mission group, Hydromissions. And while they were in Kenya to dig wells, they grew curious about all the tea plants they saw growing there, since about a quarter of the world’s tea leaves come from there. They followed their curiosity and asked farmers there to teach them about the tea growing and making process—and when they returned to the United States, one thing led to another, and they started their own tea farm.

As Jennifer led us and a group of about a dozen others around the small farm she and her husband own and operate, we saw the Camellia sinensis bushes in various stages of development, from seeds and seedlings in the greenhouse to one- and three-year-old seedlings, to fully developed bushes planted in rows around the farm. After seeing the greenhouse operation, Jennifer led us to a place with a sign that marked it as the Lazarus Field. Several years ago, in 2017-18, not long after they had planted some 6,000 tea plants, the Upstate experienced its coldest winter in a century—a record number of days with temperatures at or below freezing. Their rows of tea plants were decimated, and it seemed like all but a handful were lost forever. But then an amazing, maybe even miraculous thing happened—the withered remains of the thousands of frozen plants, which they had left in the field to decompose and return to the earth, began to show signs of life. And within a few weeks, the plants were not just showing new growth but had quickly come into leaf at a level typical of mature plants.

As the story is recorded on a sign by the Lazarus Field, “All but 14 plants died in this first production field… . The tea company was devastated and ready to close. But God had other plans. This field is a reminder of the hope we have in Jesus Christ. God raises the dead, and because He lives, so can we.” This reminds me of the praises we hear in Psalm 92: 11-14 today:

The righteous shall flourish like a palm tree, and shall spread abroad like a cedar of Lebanon.

Those who are planted in the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of our God;

They shall still bear fruit in old age; they shall be green and succulent;

That they may show how upright the Lord is, my Rock, in whom there is no fault.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Have there been times when you thought all was lost (like the frozen field of tea plants), but were surprised to see new life and hope emerge?

What does it look like in your life to be “planted in the house of the Lord”? How have you experienced “flourishing in the courts of our God”?

Daily Challenge

Learn more about the Table Rock Tea Company by watching this local news report or visiting their website.

Voices Around Us - June 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [83] or 34; PM Psalm 85, 86; 1 Samuel 2:27-36; Acts 2:22-36; Luke 20:41-21:4

This week, I am one of the program coordinators at Camp McDowell.  I get to work on the morning content, and then I just enjoy the day.  Responsibilities pretty much end after the morning, although spending time with our young people is always appreciated until 9 pm when we gather in a chapel for the evening ritual of Compline.

Compline is the Daily Office service before bed (page 127 of the Book of Common Prayer) that comes from the monastic tradition and is how every evening at Camp McDowell closes.  My role is not to lead worship, but to help the young people be our leaders.  Each day, a few young people come to find me at one of our meals and ask, “Father John, can I lead worship today?”  “Sure thing,” I tell them and then I ask them to meet me in the chapel a few minutes before worship.

What has surprised me this week is the confidence and leadership of these middle school youth that with eager hearts, desire to help the community gathered worship.  I would have been mortified of standing in front of over 100 of my peers and leading worship at twelve years old, but without fail, every day there is a new string of volunteers, and they lead with confidence, willingness, and openness.

The book of Samuel shares a vision of a faithful priest being raised up.  For the family (tribe of Israel) to survive, they need a faithful leader who can help the people reconcile with God.  Much of the Old Testament is about the role of the religious leaders and the role they play in the community. 

The tradition that has been passed down to us has some of those roles too, but we often forget that each person in our community can shape our collective relationship and worship with God.  We might have priests, but we all get to help each other deepen our relationship and connection with the one who created us and redeems us.  I am grateful to be reminded of that through the young people this week at Camp McDowell.  Who are the voices around us that have something to offer and need to be heard?

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What roles have I had in public worship before?  Is there something new I could offer that I haven’t done before? Altar Guild, Lector, Usher, Eucharistic Minister?

Daily Challenge:  Read the Compline service before bed tonight.  It is about seven minutes and can be found here.  

Peter and the Promise of Prophesy – June 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; 1 Samuel 2:12-26; Acts 2:1-21; Luke 20:27-40

I have a friend named Doug who will say, “You’re just full of blue butter beans!” – which is a simultaneously silly and curious thing to say as a retort to someone’s statement. I have no idea where that phrase came from…it sounds like a very Southern aphorism, but this friend lives in California. He is a beloved middle school teacher in the Los Angeles area, skilled at the art of saying inane yet true messages of wisdom to young people (who are at an age when they are thirsting for acceptance, independence, and understanding). I do not know how teenagers respond to Doug in the classroom when he blurts out the blue butter bean line, but I know that the first time he hurled that alliteration my way, I stopped short, looked quizzically his way, and laughed in the absurdity.

While reading Acts 2, today I am struck not by the coming of the Holy Spirit, but by the responses around the experience: “…in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.’ All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ But others sneered and said, ‘They are filled with new wine.’” (Acts 2:11b-13) I wonder, would an equivalent of the dismissive interpretation in more recent yore be, “They are filled with Boone’s Farm!” or “They are filled with Zima!”? (Perhaps you have other saccharine intoxicants that you, as rowdy youth, smuggled into dance halls, beach trips, or pasture parties.) After a jaunt down memory lane, I am drawn back to the real question, striving to understanding something that wholly does not make sense: What does this – the coming of the Holy Spirit – mean?

Peter stands up with his friends and helps interpret the rushing wind and the subsequent cacophony of voices that are distinguishable as mother tongues, rather than confusing noise. Quoting part of the prophetic proclamation of the ancient Hebrew prophet Joel, Peter says:

“In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
   and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
   and your old men shall dream dreams.
Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
   in those days I will pour out my Spirit;
     and they shall prophesy…” (Acts 2:17-18)

He goes on a bit further in today’s readings, and it spills over into Thursday’s reading from Acts, too. What sticks out in this reaction highlighting the meaning of the Holy Spirit coming down in “divided tongues, as of fire” (Acts 2:3), is that this promise is an old one – from the 7th century BCE. Not just a promise of the Spirit coming upon all flesh, but that sons and daughters would be opened to the gift of prophecy. Men and women would open the eyes of others to God’s truth today and God’s promise for tomorrow. Visions and dreams would come to people of all ages. And even slaves – male and female – would be swept into this gift of interaction and communication with the Lord. The apostle Paul, following in a similar vein, writes in the letter to the Galatians that in Christ there is no Jew or Gentile, no slave or freed person.

In short: y’all come. All. All manners of people are touched by this humbling, transformative power of God. We are all made one in the uniting love of God. That declaration was a confirmation of the prophetic message long before.

Whoever you are, lift your voice and sing. Share your story of resurrection and hope in the power of Jesus. Invite others to tell their stories, too.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What difference or divide in your life feels unfixable? How could the Holy Spirit bring about reconciliation and inspiration?

Daily Challenge

Take a few minutes to listen to this TED talk about the poem, “Lift Every Voice and Sing” and hear this powerful poem set to music. It is known today as the Black National Anthem.

A Mother's Faith - June 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 78:1-39; PM Psalm 78:40-72; 1 Samuel 1:21-2:11; Acts 1:15-26; Luke 20:19-26

Today’s Reflection

For this child I prayed; and the Lord has granted me the petition that I made to him. Therefore I have lent him to the Lord; as long as he lives, he is given to the Lord.’ She left him there for the Lord.  –1 Samuel 1: 27-28

Many of you are familiar with the story of Samuel, who as a young boy, maybe a teenager, heard a voice which turned out to be the voice of God. But Samuel is not the only one who heard God’s call in this story. Other people had to have faith and listen to God’s voice in order to lay the foundation that made it possible for Samuel to do the same when his own time came.

Samuel’s mother Hannah was married to Elkanah, who also had another wife, Peninnah, with whom he had sons and daughters. Hannah, too, desperately wanted to have children, but year after year no child came to Hannah and her husband. Setting aside that he had two wives, since that was culturally acceptable back then, other than that, Elkinah seems to have been a good husband. He gave Hannah “a double portion because he loved her, though the LORD had closed her womb.” Peninnah flouted her abundance of children, causing Hannah great sadness and frustration. Elkanah, for all his understanding, couldn’t fully understand Hannah’s grief: “Hannah, why do you weep? Why do you not eat? Why is your heart sad? Am I not more to you than ten sons?” In other words, why aren’t I enough?

But Hannah believed deep in her heart that she was meant to have a child, meant to be a mother. She felt called to it. So she kept praying at Shiloh and kept asking God to hear her and send her a son. And she made a promise—if you give me a son, I will dedicate him to you and the service of your temple. As she prayed so intently, the priest Eli heard her as “she poured out her soul before the LORD.” She explained to Eli that she was praying so intently because of “my great anxiety and vexation.” Eli responded with kindness and offered Hannah some hope: “Go in peace; the God of Israel grant the petition you have made to him.”

Fast forward and we learn that God granted Hannah and Elkanah the son Hannah had hoped for, a son they named Samuel. And once Samuel was weaned, probably 3 to 4 years old in those times, Hannah brought Samuel to serve alongside Eli in the temple. We get a sense of her great attachment to Samuel, and how heart-wrenching it was for her to give him up to the Lord, that she would visit him every year and bring him a new little robe, ensuring that he would have a tangible sign of being clothed and covered in his mother’s love.

In order for Samuel to exist, and to be there in the temple apprenticed to Eli, his mother Hannah first had to be listening to God’s voice stirring in her, helping her to stay close to God and keep holding on to hope that God had something better in store for her, that she was not destined to stay mired in hopelessness. Hannah had faith that God heard her. And Hannah had faith that God would watch over her son and that he was meant to serve God and his people for his whole life. She had to have faith and be listening to God in order for so many other things to be set into motion for so many other people. Hannah’s strong faith that made it possible for Samuel to be where he needed to be that night when it was time for him to hear God calling out to him.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Who is someone who has been faithful to pray for you, whether over the course of many years or during a particular phase or season of your life? Who is someone who has made great sacrifices for you, whose care for you changed the course of your life?

Daily Challenge

Learn more of what Bible scholars know about Hannah in this article by Ruth Fidler, posted on Bible Odyssey.

Witnesses to God's Love - June 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; 1 Samuel 1:1-20; Acts 1:1-14; Luke 20:9-19

I’m still a little startled from an event a few weeks ago.  It was 5:30 a.m. and I was meeting a few friends from a run.  We were leaving from the Trak Shak in Homewood which is one of the most prosperous areas in the state of Alabama.  While the sun was not fully up, it was already light out.  Usually, at this time in the morning, we don’t see many others except for runners and cyclists eager to get a workout before the day really begins. 

This morning, two men got out of a car that was coming off of a side street.  One of the men got in a black pickup truck and started driving. The truck approached us, windows down, and the man leaned out and yelled as loud as he could, “I’m drunk.  And the South will rise again!” It’s not the words I expected to hear. 

I’ve been processing those words for several days.  Why did a man feel comfortable publicly yelling a not-so-veiled racist comment towards me and my friends?  Is this a more common sentiment than I realized?  Maybe it was the alcohol, giving him permission to express what he felt needed to be shared. Did he think we might agree? It caught me off guard and I think the reason I was so taken aback, is a belief that this ridiculousness was no longer a shared vision of our community, at least not in the place where I lived. I want to believe that at least in communities where education is strongly valued and seems to be thriving on so many different levels, that this kind of sentiment would not be vocalized or tolerated. 

The story of Acts is about the spreading of the Spirit and the growth of the Church.  Today, we begin reading through Acts which we will read through for several weeks.  I find it interesting that as the disciples are being empowered by Jesus to go forth and share their ministry, they ask Jesus an interesting question: ‘Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?’  Jesus reminds them that it is not for them to know and instead tells them that it is their job to be witnesses to God’s work throughout the world. 

It’s easy to want the world to be absent of racism, to be the kingdom that we know God is beckoning us towards.  I do hope (and believe) that God’s love is more and more known in this world every day.  But there might be some wisdom in remembering Jesus’ words that the kingdom has yet to be restored.  Instead, our work is to be witnesses to what the kingdom can be. 

Until the kingdom is here, we have work to do.  And we have been empowered by the one who redeems the world.  This means we are going to face things that are unpleasant, broken, sinful, and evil.  But we are witnesses to that which has the power to restore all things to God in Christ and each other.  So let us live in hope, even when some ugly words start our day.   

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where have you been taken aback lately?  Where have you found your own belief about the way of the world not matching up with your experience of the world? How does this shape your faith?

Daily Challenge: What is one thing you can do today to be a witness to God’s love?  Just do it!

Remedy for motion sickness: Praying Psalm 27 – June 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 75, 76; PM Psalm 23, 27 Ecclus. 46:1-10; 2 Cor. 13:1-14; Luke 20:1-8

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? 

the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?

When evildoers came upon me to eat up my flesh, 

it was they, my foes and my adversaries, who stumbled and fell.

Though an army should encamp against me, 

yet my heart shall not be afraid;

And though war should rise up against me,

yet will I put my trust in him. (Psalm 27:1-4)

One of the psalms appointed for today is Psalm 27. A note I have in my study Bible indicates that this is both a song of trust and a song of individual petition. How powerful and grounding these words of the psalmist can be in a time of unrest - either at home or in the greater world around us - when it feels that darkness and fear are encroaching upon one’s heart. Rather than focusing on the things that are passing away, the psalmist affixes their eyes upon God as the point of orientation and stability, the source of light and salvation. I imagine this type of focus like a remedy for motion sickness, when picking the one visual reference that is unmoving and steady, though the remainder of the surroundings are twisting, swerving, or rocking.

This psalm is one of powerful trust in God. I wonder how these words served as an anchor to people in ages past. I think about the faithful men and women who were persecuted during the Spanish Inquisition. Many who were called to the ecclesiastical (church) courts were converts from Judaism and Islam, and even Protestant Christians. They lived in fear of papal insistence upon doctrinal purity of the church. Through their devotion to God, surely they rehearsed the words, “Though an army should encamp against me, yet my heart shall not be afraid.” (v. 3) 

I read about the first Native American Episcopal priest, Enmegahbowh, who died on this day in 1902. His name is tied to the meaning, “He that prays [for his people while] standing”. He grew up in a Ojibwe Band near Peterborough, Canada, and ended up in Minnesota. After serving as a deacon for three years and founding St. Columba Mission, Enmegahbowh played a peacekeeping role in the midst of the Dakota War of 1862. A band of Mississippi Chippewa were preparing to attack a military fort nearby, and the Ojibwe Band alum and clergyperson convinced the others of his band to avoid joining the siege. Enmegahbowh was captured by the rebel band because of his efforts to undermine their attack, then escaped and traveled in secret to warn the threatened fort. During this adversity, he may well have recited the words, “the Lord is my strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?” (v. 1b).  

I also read about the Brown family in Selma, Alabama, in 1945. 74-year-old Niecey, a Black woman, answered the door of her home early on a Sunday morning in June. An off-duty police officer George Booker, a white man, demanded to speak to one of her family members. She asked him to leave, but he forced the door open and began assaulting her. Niecey suffered a fractured skull and died two days later, on June 12. According to the Equal Justice Initiative’s “A History of Racial Injustice”, her grandchildren witnessed the attack, along with her husband who tried to protect his wife and the rest of their family by issuing a non-fatal shot to the officer’s shoulder. The justice system in 1940s Black Belt Alabama failed the Brown family; Officer Booker was acquitted of all murder charges. Verse 8 of Psalm 27 feels appropriate for this tale of trauma and heartache, “Even now he lifts up my head above my enemies round about me.” In an effort to remain faithful to God, those in a time of trial must cling to such words of promise.

For those who have experienced heartbreak and mistreatment, this ancient prayer rings relevant and true…not that this psalm can resolve the brokenness, but that it can remind us that others - now and before - have lived through hard times in faithfulness that God has been their helper in times of need. Our siblings on the journey have found ways to stand up, in spite of hardship, trusting in God’s ultimate protection, salvation, and sustenance. The closing verse of Psalm 27 reminds us, “O tarry and await the Lord’s pleasure; be strong, and he shall comfort your heart; wait patiently for the Lord.” 

Stand up. Be strong. Comfort will come, with God’s help and love.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When faced with fear or a time when you've witnessed injustice, what prayers have you prayed? Who is someone you have found as a confidante or encourager to get through a really hard time?

Daily Challenge

Sit with Psalm 27 in prayer for five minutes. Who comes to mind? Pray for that person. Pray for your own self. Spend another five minutes writing in a journal, reflecting on your prayer time and any insights that came to you.

The Things that Make for Peace - June 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; Ecclus. 45:6-16; 2 Cor. 12:11-21; Luke 19:41-48

Today’s Reflection

As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, ‘If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. –Luke 19: 41-43

In our passage from Luke 19 today, we learn how Jesus “wept over” the city. We hear Jesus complaining how the people of God were hemmed in and how they could not recognize those “things that make for peace.” This passage reminds me of my experiences “Learning from London” three years ago, in a seminary travel course of that same name. The whole point of the experience was to learn from people in the Diocese of London who, like Jesus, had a heart for their city and, as a result, wanted to recognize and then interact with their parish neighborhoods in a way that would make for peace.

On home design shows, the designers and prospective home owners often talk about how they want to “open up the space” in the living area of the home being renovated. Watch just about any episode of Fixer Upper, for example, and you’ll hear Joanna and Chip Gaines working out plans for creating an “open concept” space in which the kitchen, dining, and living rooms all flow into one another. Often the rationale for doing this is not merely aesthetic but more so it is social: the parents want to be able to see from the kitchen what their children are doing in the living room, or the couple wants guests to be able to freely move amongst the spaces when invited over for dinner. In other words, the purpose for opening up the space is encouraging more opportunities for social interaction.

So, what would it mean for us, in the church,  to think about renovating the way we think about “being church” and “doing church” such that we end up with a more open concept church, one that invites more opportunities for community interaction? Instead of writing off churches as outdated old buildings that no longer serve as “functional spaces” (to use another Fixer Upper-ism), I learned from the churches I spent time with in London how we can go about opening up church spaces so that they are more functional, more inviting, and more responsive to the needs of our respective communities.

Take for example St. James’ Piccadilly, a Christopher Wren-designed church located in an area of London where many people work but in which the residences are few. People do live there, but many of those who live there are homeless. In contrast, the people who work there are socioeconomically privileged. People use the narthex as a passageway from one street to another; rather than posting a sign discouraging people from cutting through the church property, the church is welcoming to those who pass through; bulletin boards feature colorful photos of church events and posters advertising upcoming ones.

Likewise, rather than trying to keep homeless people away from their church, several pews on one side of the historic worship space are set aside for these individuals to use as a place of rest. In rotation with other churches, other church space is offered for a night homeless shelter. The grounds are also very open concept, hosting the open-air Piccadilly Market (selling souvenirs and crafts) in the front church yard and a small Caffe Nero (similar to Starbucks) in the garden patio area, while a Counseling Caravan is parked in another corner of the garden. The historic, architecturally significant worship space, in addition to being the site for daily Morning Prayer and Sunday Eucharistic services, is used multiple times per month as a concert venue and lecture hall. Thirty-five years ago, this church was on the verge of closing. Today it is an extremely vibrant example of an open-concept church space: more inviting and more functional.

Other churches I visited may not be quite so multifaceted in their open concept, but are opening their spaces in ways that are equally appropriate to their respective contexts. For example, Holy Trinity in Sloane Square, a very posh district of London, hosts concerts and other cultural events often multiple times in the course of a week. They also see much foot traffic from curious tourists who just want to take a look around at their beautiful building, and have set up a tourist welcome table staffed by volunteers from the church.

Meanwhile, St. Peter’s in Bethnal Green, an increasingly gentrified neighborhood in East London, has found a community partner, SPEAR, that offers a job interviewing and training program for 18-25 year olds. St. Peter’s hosts the classes and the graduation programs in the church hall and classrooms; church staff have the chance to get to know the SPEAR students as they cross paths with them throughout the day.

The church’s back garden space, complete with wooden picnic tables and a multitude of roses, is opened for the wider community to visit for weekend garden pop-up cafes with free cakes, coffees, and teas. Inside, the pews of the church get moved around as need be to host everything from standard worship, meetings, and church events to World Cup viewing parties, repurposing the screen used to project readings and lyrics during Sunday worship for big-screen football viewing.

All of these are Fixer Upper-esque stories of churches who are opening up their existing spaces to be more connected to and responsive to their communities. We, too, at Saint Stephen’s are opening up our space and our hearts to encourage those things that make for peace, be it respite care and yoga classes at Saint John’s Chapel, or hosting recovery groups in our classrooms during the week, or helping make new spaces for community connection in Woodlawn and Avondale. How else might we imagine opening up the spaces of Saint Stephen’s and our own homes to promote peace in our community?

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

How else might we imagine opening up the spaces of Saint Stephen’s and our own homes to promote peace in our community?

Daily Challenge

Watch (or re-watch) our Sunday Forum conversations with Jason Fout who teaches the Learning from London travel course and with Adam Atkinson who is involved in mission and evangelism efforts in the Diocese of London.

God's Love is Bigger - June 10

Today’s Scripture: AM Psalm [70], 71; PM Psalm 74; Ecclus. 44:19-45:5; 2 Cor. 12:1-10; Luke 19:28-40

One of my favorite movies is the 1985 Steven Spielberg classic, the Goonies.  The movie is about a group of young kids who are worried that their friendship is about to be broken up due to some financial challenges and the development of their neighborhood.  This band of misfits calls themselves “the Goonies.” They find an ancient treasure map that belonged to a legendary 17th century pirate in the attic of one of their homes and they begin this quest for treasure believing it will solve their parents’ financial troubles.  While they are out searching for this treasure, there is also a family of escaped convicts who discover that the Goonies are on to something rich and profound, and the quest for hidden treasure becomes as much about fleeing the grasp of the dangerous Fratelli family as it is about wealth. 

The plot thickens when the Fratellis catch up with one of the members of the Goonies, a young man named “Chunk” who becomes the source of revelation for the family. There is this hilarious scene when the Fratellis have captured Chunk and they are demanding information when one of the criminals, says, “I want you to spill your guts and tell us everything!”  Having overheard Chunk talk about the treasure, he wants information about how to get all the gold and jewels, but instead, Chunk begins running through a litany of all the things he has ever done that are wrong.  He shares about cheating on an exam in third grade, stealing his uncle’s toupee in fourth grade and gluing it on his face, and then the infamous movie theater scene.  I’ll spare you the details, but it’s gross and really funny (to middle school boys and sometimes moderately immature priests). 

When Chunk is confessing to the Fratellis, one of the criminals has his arm around him, smiling, nodding, and he says, “Ma, I’m really starting to like this guy!”  It’s meant as a joke, but there is a moment of a shared identity.  Both Chunk and the Fratelli have done some horrible things in life.  There is only one difference, and it makes all the difference in the world:  Chunk regrets his actions and wants to live differently.

We are sinners, saved by the love of God.  We should not boast of the things we have done or accomplished.  I think most of us get that.  But there is an interesting twist that Paul shares with the community in Corinth.  Paul shares that we should instead boast of our weaknesses so that the glory of God may truly be revealed in our lives.  I’d even go as far as to be able to be living examples of all the things that we have done and left undone, the wrongs that have been committed in our name, and yet God’s love still redeems us.  This highlights how truly revolutionary God’s love really is.

I think we worry a lot about naming the things that we have done and left undone.  We have a hard time admitting when we have not done our best or we deny our role in fundamentally sinful structures and systems.  We are threatened when faced with the reality that we (or the society we live in) are as far from perfect as we have ever been.  Our world is still broken (and will continue to be until the full realization of Christ). 

Maybe we don’t need to boast about all the things we have done that are wrong, but we should be honest about it, and not ashamed.  The Good News is that it is ok. God’s love is so much bigger and redeems it all. The only thing necessary is not wanting to go back to those ways.  Chunk had it figured out and I’m hoping to follow his example.

- John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What things do you regret from your past?  Are there things that you wish you had not done?  What does it mean to you that Christ’s love is bigger than your biggest mistake?

Daily Challenge:  Write down three things you have done that you are ashamed of and scared for others to know.  You don’t have to share with anyone but consider even writing as a way of acknowledging what we have done and remember that God’s love is bigger. 

Learning to love yourself - June 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96 Deut. 31:30-32:14; 2 Cor. 11:21b-33; Luke 19:11-27

This past weekend, I took a walk down memory lane by returning to my hometown for a childhood friend’s wedding. It was a large and beautiful affair. I must admit, leading up to it, I was dragging my feet a bit…that weird blend of wanting desperately to go and dreading what would happen. I’ll say more.

Like many young people, I wrestled with low self-esteem, not feeling good enough or worthy through my school years. I wanted to feel cool and be in the “in crowd”. By the time I got to college and beyond, I found other ways to reaffirm my self-worth when feeling down or insecure and began gravitating toward “my crowd”. However, in middle and high school, I was often reliant upon the validation of others to feel okay about myself. And honestly, propping up one’s fragile ego and relying upon what other insecure, immature teenagers think… that is a recipe for danger and disappointment and drama.

My mom was a stabilizing force for me in those tumultuous years. She talked with my sisters and me about believing in ourselves, often turning to music to reinforce her messages. Mom would play (and replay) Whitney Houston’s song, “The Greatest Love of All” on the cassette deck in our car, drawing our attention to these lyrics:

“I decided long ago
Never to walk in anyone's shadows
If I fail, if I succeed
At least I'll live as I believe
No matter what they take from me
They can't take away my dignity

 Because the greatest love of all
Is happening to me
I found the greatest love of all
Inside of me

The greatest love of all
Is easy to achieve
Learning to love yourself
It is the greatest love of all.”

I get a little misty-eyed just rehearsing those words in my head now. My mom knew that sometimes life would be challenging. She tried to prepare and ground us in love, regardless of what happened externally.

Hard things did happen in the landscape of our upbringing. Our parents divorced while we were in elementary and junior high grades. Our dad was angry and complicated. He made some bad choices that negatively affected him, his livelihood, and his health. It was a source of tension and embarrassment and pain. Home life was no longer “normal” or “mainstream” … it was different than that of my peers at an affluent private school in the deep South.

As I look back, what my mom was trying to do was ground us in God’s love and hers, so that we were less likely to compare ourselves to others, or see ourselves as walking in the shadows of others. While she lived, she did this gallantly. Once she died, it was hard to imagine going back to my hometown for a large social gathering. There was rarely a big enough reason to return to that space where I felt weakness and anxiety... especially without the encouraging words of my mom to tell me that I was good enough and full of dignity.  

Until now. With the shores of COVID-19 receding, not without the marks left on our hearts and lives because of the losses, it was time. I stood tall and walked with Sam up the driveway to the beautiful home and enjoyed the joyous wedding (and impromptu high school reunion). I did not boast of hardships, as the apostle Paul explores in his second letter to the Corinthians. I presented myself as I am, fashioned by God and comforted by the Lord’s loving-kindness (Ps. 119:73, 76). I felt no shadows of the past, nor did I hide my weakness. And it was a glorious night.

Friends, wherever you go this day, know that you are not walking in anyone’s shadow. The light of Christ is shining upon each of us, and there is enough to go around.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What weaknesses have you hidden that keep you from connecting with others?

 What words of reassurance do you need to hear today?

Daily Challenge

Take a deep breath. Pray about a space of weakness in your life. Where do you specifically feel pain or avoid a person or life event? Invite God into that space, to bring healing, redemption, and reconciliation. Consider talking to a trusted friend about it, or even meet with a counselor to reach a deeper level of acceptance of yourself – as a beloved child of God.

Choose Life, Choose Love - June 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 61, 62; PM Psalm 68:1-20(21-23)24-36; Deut. 30:11-20; 2 Cor. 11:1-21a; Luke 19:1-10

Today’s Reflection

In today’s reading from Deuteronomy 30, we hear Moses telling the children of Israel that they (and we) have a choice:

See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. … Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob (Deut. 30: 15, 19b-20, NRSV).

When we choose to live lives of love, we are not choosing the easiest path, though. Oftentimes choosing to live lives of love is so much harder. When we choose to live lives based on love, we are choosing to sacrifice other things—like material comfort or getting our own way and other privileges—for the greater good. But each time that we are courageous enough to make that choice, and the sacrifices required by choosing a life of love, there is power in that choice. A power that some say can even change the world—one choice at a time.

Each time we make a good choice, to obey the commandments of the LORD our God, by walking in his ways, then we are, in fact, choosing life. Moses tells the children of Israel (and us) to choose life, so that we and our descendants, our children and our children’s children, may live. Now, all this may have sounded intimidating to the people of Israel (and to us). It’s not so easy, we think, to love God by following in his steps and holding tightly to him in a world in which we are constantly tempted to do otherwise. But several verses earlier in Deuteronomy 30, Moses offers us this encouragement:

For this commandment that I command you today is not too hard for you, neither is it far off. It is not in heaven, that you should say, ‘Who will ascend to heaven for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, ‘Who will go over the sea for us and bring it to us, that we may hear it and do it?’ But the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it. (Deut. 30: 11-14, ESV).

You don’t have to wait for someone else to bring you what you need to love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul. You can do this. You have all the gifts you need to choose life and to choose love: “the word is very near you. It is in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it.” When I read this passage, it sounds like Moses was giving a motivational talk. We already have all that we need to love God and love one another with all our heart and with all our soul, to love with a sacrificial, other-oriented love. And each time we do this, we are choosing life.

Moses’ motivational talk reminds me of another uplifting sermon from not so long ago, by a preacher who always encourages us to choose life by choosing to love. The sermon I am thinking of is the one that our Presiding Bishop, the Most Rev. Michael Curry, delivered at the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle in England back in May 2018. Bishop Curry’s sermon focused on the power of love to change not just the life of one couple, Meghan and Harry, but to change the life of the whole world. This was no ordinary wedding homily. Let’s look back at what Bishop Curry preached that day:

Jesus of Nazareth on one occasion was asked by a lawyer to sum up the essence of the teachings of Moses. He went back and reached back into the Hebrew scriptures, to Deuteronomy and Leviticus, and Jesus said you shall love the lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind and all your strength.

This is the first and great commandment and the second is like it: love your neighbor as yourself. And then in Matthew’s version, he added … on these two, Love of God and Love of Neighbor, hang all the law, all the prophets, everything that Moses wrote, everything in the holy prophets, everything in the scriptures, everything that God has been trying to tell the world. Love God, love your neighbors, and while you’re at it, love yourself.

Now someone once said that Jesus began the most revolutionary movement in all of human history, a movement grounded in the unconditional love of God for the world. A movement mandating people to live that love. And in so doing, to change not only their lives but the very life of the world itself. I’m talking about some power, real power. Power to change the world.

Each Sunday, after we share Holy Communion, we are dismissed “to go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” As you carry on with this rest of this day and this week, do so knowing that as you go out in peace, to love and serve the Lord, you do so empowered by Christ, the living word of God. The love of Christ is very near you, in your mouth and in your heart, so that you can do it. Thanks be to God!

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When does God’s word feel very near to you? How do you experience God’s word at work in your life, in your mouth and in your heart? What passage of scripture is one that you carry especially close to your heart—one that gives you hope, one that reminds you that you are loved?

Daily Challenge

Take a few minutes to view or read Bishop Curry’s May 19, 2018 wedding homily here.

Nothing Worth Doing is Easy - June 7

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Deut. 30:1-10; 2 Cor. 10:1-18; Luke 18:31-43

This past week, I found myself in a conversation in an online forum discussing the church and calling.  A person shared that they had a love of public speaking and liked working with the poor and suffering and was exploring a career as an Episcopal clergy person.  They then wrote that they wondered if it was even a worthy cause because this person has “a serious concern about the future of the church.”  The person continued, “we all know the statistics for the Episcopal church overall” and as they are finishing high school referenced worrying about a career in something that could be failing. 

I was taken aback a little, although I think it’s a realistic question to consider mainline Christianity’s decline across the board, although the Episcopal Church in Alabama and certainly Saint Stephen’s, is vibrant and healthy.  But I posed the question to this person about trusting God’s spirit and faithfulness to believe that God is leading us into ministry.  As I have reflected on the young person’s question, I have been thinking that a lot of what we attribute to success in the church is vibrancy and lack of conflict.  If lots of people are gathered together and getting along, we believe that what we have is successful.  Honestly, it’s often what I use to measure success. 

One of the practices of my previous diocese was the Bishop inviting the clergy to gather on the Tuesday of Holy Week to reaffirm their ordination vows. In one of my first years as a priest, my Bishop preached at that service.  He shared the story of being proud of his collar shortly after his ordination.  He was walking around Chicago in his clericals and saw a stranger looking at him.  Upon walking over to greet the man, the man spit on him and walked off.  The image from his story has caused a lot of reflection over the past decade on what it means to follow Jesus. 

I think it’s easy to assume that following our faith is going to make life easier, or that our Christian identity will bring comfort and joy to all people we meet.  On the best of days, our faith can bring real comfort, peace, and reconciliation to others, but usually, that means we, ourselves, have had to go through something very difficult.  I am guessing that the man who spat upon my bishop had failed to receive that peace, comfort, and reconciliation from the church and the outward and visible sign of the church became the target of animosity.

Following Jesus isn’t easy.  The disciples fail over and over to comprehend what Jesus is about to undertake in his death and resurrection.  Today’s Gospel is just one of many stories of the disciples failing to grasp the weight of their decision to follow Christ.  But through death, Jesus shows us the ultimate truth of God’s love through Resurrection.  It’s our job to have the confidence to walk the hard path of living out our faith, but we do it with the promise of God’s eternal love.  Nothing worth doing is easy.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What are the most challenging aspects of living out your faith?  Has living out your faith ever cost you something in your life? 

Daily Challenge: Write on a slip of paper, a way of living out your faith that is challenging to you and yet you feel called to do.  Fold that piece of paper up and carry it with you this week as a reminder of your call to live out your faith.

Birdseed and Fairy Houses - June 5

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 138, 139:1-17; Deut. 29:2-15; 2 Cor. 9:1-15; Luke 18:15-30

There is a garden space at the back of our house that I see when I leave in the morning and when I arrive home in the afternoon. It has a blend of sun and shade, with soil that nourishes the plants which are entrusted to that space. Over the past year, I spent many hours tending, planting, and enjoying this area. There is a patch of lavender that is in bloom; looking closely you can catch sight of bees hanging on and gathering goodness from the fragrant, purple-tipped reeds. Next to it, a transplanted rose bush shows forth its soft yellow blooms. Some lilies placed in the ground after Easter 2020 are in the bed, with their white trumpets glowing radiantly. I planned for spaces to plant bulbs and to have some seasonal breathing room between plants, adding a generous layer of mulch to keep out weeds and hold in the moisture needed.

This garden has more than the hallmark of my hands upon it. The kids have created “fairy habitats” among the lush groundcover growing along the bricked retaining wall and under some of the greenery. The acorn caps of berries and huts of sticks and leaves that they assemble add character to the garden, indeed. Sam hung a birdfeeder in the birch tree last summer and faithfully refills it as needed. As we spend much time outside, it is joyous to see birds grabbing a snack and to hear their beautiful songs.

That birdfeeder hung just above the site that I had left clear for bulbs and “breathing room”. One morning this spring, I realized that some of the birdseed scattered from above was growing in the garden. After a year of rolling with the unexpected in so many aspects of life, I decided just to watch where these wild weeds would end up. Those green sprigs have grown into what looks like sheaves of wheat, with even a few sunflowers shining forth. It is wonderfully wild.

Arriving home from errands yesterday, Josephine did not tend her fairy houses, but noted that it looked like an animal had been in the garden. She could see that a section of the green stalks were pressed upon the ground, as if something (much larger than a fairy) had been lying down upon them.

As I sit here thinking about that space of life and hopefulness outside our backdoor, I am struck at the effect generosity has had upon that tiny garden plot. I am touched by how the generosity of building homes for our garden fairies has given a new fanciful dimension to our surroundings. I am stirred that the generosity of feeding our feathered friends has yielded a patch of wild growth. These additions add depth and adventure to what I had envisioned.

In Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, I am humbled by his message to his siblings in Christ: “the one who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and the one who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.” (9:6) If left to my own devices, I may not sow seeds as bountifully as I could. Looking at the gifts of participation from my spouse and children, I realize the extraordinary bounty in that garden. Thankfully, I am not alone – in gardening adventures or in the journey of Christian life – and neither are you. Each of us get to give and participate…and our giving accumulates, gathering momentum, and bursting forth with more bounty and beauty than we could imagine.  

Today, I pray that you hear the call to share abundantly and sow bountifully. Sow bountifully in loving those around you. Sow bountifully in giving to the church that nourishes your soul and the lives of others in need. And, sow bountifully in entrusting your whole life to God, so that you may see every blessing in abundance.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Who inspires you to be generous?

What does generosity look like for you today? How are you sharing abundantly? In what ways can you grow to share more – emotionally, spiritually, financially, physically?

Daily Challenge

Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556) was a Spanish priest, theologian, soldier, and one of the founders of the Society of Jesus (also called the Jesuits). He wrote a prayer for generosity that is shared widely, even 500 years later.

Eternal Word, only begotten Son of God,
Teach me true generosity.
Teach me to serve you as you deserve.
To give without counting the cost,
To fight heedless of wounds,
To labor without seeking rest,
To sacrifice myself without thought of any reward
Save the knowledge that I have done your will.
Amen.

Take a moment to reflect on these words. Let one word or phrase linger in your mind.  Pray for how God is calling you to true generosity this day. Write down one action you will commit to doing in the week ahead.

There But for the Grace of God Go I - June 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Deut. 26:1-11; 2 Cor. 8:16-24; Luke 18:9-14

Today’s Reflection

Have you ever caught yourself thinking, “Well, I will never do X.” Or feeling kind of superior that you have managed to avoid certain life experiences, and feeling kind of sorry for those who fell into such pitiable circumstances? In our pride or naivete, we reassure ourselves that we, surely, would never, ever do X. And then, fast forward a few months or years or decades down the road and lo and behold you find yourself in that very set of circumstances you thought you would never, ever be in—be it professionally, personally, emotionally, or all the above.

This prideful outlook is just the sort of mindset that Jesus is calling out the Pharisees for in today’s passage from Luke 18. These are people who Luke describes as those “who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt” (18:9). Jesus, in telling the parable, describes the Pharisee “standing by himself” while he prayed this very self-righteous prayer: “God, I thank you that I am not like other people. … I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income” (18: 11-12). In this prayer, the Pharisee is telling God that he doesn’t need God’s mercy, because he’s got this whole righteousness thing figured out for himself—unlike all these other sinners! The Pharisee, in his pride, comes to God in a posture of ‘look what I have done for you.’

In contrast, the tax collector is approaching God in a spirit of true humility; he is “standing far off” and cannot even “look up to heaven” because he is so aware of the reality of his own imperfections. The tax collector feels contrite and sorrowful when he reflects on “what he has done and what he has left undone.” Because of this, the tax collector’s posture in approaching God is one that recognizes what God has done and what God will do: “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” (18:13).

As he concludes his parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, Jesus offers us this powerful antithesis to drive home the message he wants us to take away: “For all who exalt themselves will be humbled but all who humble themselves will be exalted.” Again and again throughout the New Testament, especially in passages in which Jesus in speaking, we hear a message that emphasizes a reversal of the usual power dynamics. The Good News we always hear from Jesus is that the weak become strong, the poor become rich, and those who exalt themselves will be humbled but those who humble themselves will be exalted.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What circumstances did you once think you would never allow yourself to fall into, and then later you found yourself in that very situation? Or what did you once think you would never, ever do that you later found yourself doing? What did you learn about yourself—and what you believe about God—through your changed circumstances? How did this reversal of status serve to humble you and make you more compassionate toward others?

Daily Challenge

Think of the people you know who come across as very humble. Reflect on their lives and how they present themselves both to God and to others. What can you learn from their way of seeing themselves and their role in the lives of others?

Challenging Moments and How They Shape Us - June 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 50; PM Psalm [59, 60] or 8, 84; Deut. 16:18-20, 17:14-20; 2 Cor. 8:1-16; Luke 18:1-8

Someone I care about deeply and have known for most of my life has a certain outlook that I have struggled with lately.  They seem to believe the world is against them. This person doesn’t say that explicitly, but it seems to be their approach and understanding to life.  Nothing ever seems to work out for them and even moments that are worthy of celebration in her life and the life of others is an opportunity to critique and grieve. Everything is tougher for her than it is for everyone else.  In all fairness, for this person, some things have been more challenging than they have been for many others, and I do grieve for her and the struggles she has endured. 

In our relationship, I have noticed two outcomes that are causing me to pause and reflect.  First, I have a desire to spend less time with the person than I would like.  I have known them most of my life and yet I do not find much joy in our relationship.  Joy should not be the only reason we have friendships and relationships, but I wonder about the lack of joy in this relationship and if there is a role I can play in improving our relationship.

The second is more troubling. After spending some time reflecting on a conversation with this person, I found myself sliding into the same trap in my own life.  As I struggle as a priest and Rector of an Episcopal Church to make the best decisions for our community as we come out of this pandemic, I found myself saying some of the same things my friend says.  I found her approach of “Woe to me” becoming my approach. 

Grief, trauma, and hardship are real, but I am inspired by Paul’s reflections on the churches in Macedonia in his second letter to Corinthians.  The Macedonian church has experienced a “severe ordeal of affliction” and their joy in Christ has caused them to become more generous.  This is exactly the opposite of what we expect.  We expect the community to hunker down and become the recipients of help and aid from others, but Paul remarks on their generosity out of poverty. He is so inspired he uses their joy as a model for the community in Corinth.

Everyone is entitled to handle life however they please.  And it’s ok to be sad and angry.  But God (and Paul) offer us a new way to look at things.  If God is making all thing knew, that in our baptism the Resurrection of Christ is made manifest, that the Spirit of God that touched the lives of the Church on Pentecost is made alive in each of us, well – “Woe to me” shouldn’t be our whole identity.  It at least shouldn’t be mine.  And I’ll try to do better. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How do you handle hardship?  What is constructive and helpful? What is not helpful.  How much time do you spend doing the things that are not helpful?

Daily Challenge: Think of the most challenging moment or event of the past year.   Name one or two things you have learned about yourself through this that is helpful or hopeful.

The types of questions we ask - June 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; Deut. 13:1-11; 2 Cor. 7:2-16; Luke 17:20-37

Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.’  (Luke 17:20-21)

Asking questions around timing can be dicey. “Is dinner ready?” may be received very differently than “What can I do to help with dinner?” Even in the mere posing of the query, the seeker is showing a bit of their bias or posture. By asking when the meal will be prepared, the speaker is voicing that they know food is in the future and they are waiting for it to arrive. Furthermore, their role is external to the process, rather than being involved in the production of the food.

As I think about the questions we pose to one another in conversation, when-oriented phrases elicit different responses than what-oriented ones - and the depth of understanding we take away varies by the type of query offered. For example, consider the questions, “When did Gene retire?” and “What brought about Gene’s retirement?” Generally, when-based questions are only slightly open-ended, as they ask about the dimension of time. Answers can be curt. Quick. Definitive. What-based questions can yield descriptions of circumstances and the one answering may give much more self-disclosure. The response may take the conversation down a pathway unexplored or expected, toward long ago reminiscing or into the wonder of what could be ahead. Answers may be unclear or rambling. Contrary to the transactional nature of when questions, what questions are relational. Trust and understanding can grow.  

In Luke 17, we read about the Pharisees and Jesus again. The educated and pious elites ask the Son of God when the kingdom of God is coming. They know to anticipate the kingdom of God; do they know what to expect? How much more could these learned folks have taken away if they had asked what their roles could be in the kingdom of God? Or, what they need to know to live fully in the kingdom of God?

It is not an outlandish question to ask about timing, for the early Christians asked the same question. And yet, Jesus reminds the Pharisees, and all those who have heard this story, that the answer to this question is deeper and more challenging than a definitive time date stamp. He says, “For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among (or within) you.” 

Wow! Jesus takes the Pharisees’ question and gives them a bigger answer than they could have imagined. The kingdom of God is in the here and now - if we will just feel it. The answer to this question stretches us in all of sensibilities - because living relationally in Christ is living among and with others. The kingdom of God is not just what we perceive in structures around us. It is what moves within us, connecting us to one another and God. And that makes the kingdom of God complicated and beautiful, messy and strong.

I do not have it all figured out. And, what feels exciting is living into the kingdom of God that is within and among us right now.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What types of questions are you more likely to ask? The yes/no type? Time-based? How/Why/What ones? What types of questions do you prefer to answer?

What does the kingdom of God feel like for you today?

Daily Challenge

Listen to the questions you ask others. Listen to how you answer others’ questions. Be attentive to asking questions that lean toward building relationship – for the kingdom of God is within and among us.