Through the Roof - July 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 26, 28; PM Psalm 36, 39; 1 Samuel 19:1-18; Acts 12:1-17; Mark 2:1-12

Today’s Reflection

Imagine living in Jesus’ neighborhood and then hearing that your neighbor finally has returned home from a long trip—and you’ve heard all sorts of stories about amazing things he said and did while traveling through so many other villages and towns. What would you do? Run over to Jesus’ house, of course, to see and hear for yourself!

This is just the situation Mark describes in the story we hear today from Mark 2. So many people want to get close to Jesus and hear firsthand from him that they crowd into and all around his house: “So many gathered around that there was no longer room for them, not even in front of the door” (2:2).

A particular group of five friends has heard the stories of what their neighbor Jesus has been doing in other towns and they talk amongst themselves about how they really need to get into Jesus’ house, too. One of their group is paralyzed (whether short-term or long-term, we don’t know) and the other four friends are determined that they will make a way for their friend to get in front of Jesus so that he can be healed. Since the door is blocked by the crowd spilling out of the house and into the street, they think about their options and realize there’s another way in—through the roof!

In our time, we may not think of the roof of the house as having much potential for being an entryway into the house. But the kind of house common to Capernaum at the time was constructed in such a way that this was possible. According to one commentary, “A flat roof could be accessed from the outside. It consisted of branches and sticks, combined with clay, and Luke adds the detail that the roof had clay ‘tiles,’ which were used on some houses at that time” (ESV Study Bible 1896). So, the way this roof was constructed meant that if someone were determined enough, they could make a way into the house from above: “And when they could not bring him to Jesus because of the crowd, they removed the roof above him; and after having dug through it, they let down the mat on which the paralytic lay” (2:4).

We learn a lot about the faith of these five men through this very creative, determined act of friendship. Perhaps the paralyzed friend had been in an accident or had suffered an illness while Jesus had been out of town. Finally, they heard the news that Jesus was home—and they weren’t going to let the crowd stop them from getting their friend in front of Jesus.

Now some would have been angry to find people digging an opening in their roof, skipping in the line, so to speak, by lowering a man in through the ceiling. But Jesus saw this as an indication of their great faith in God, not to mention their great love for their friend: “When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Son, your sins are forgiven.’ … ‘I say to you, stand up, take your mat and go to your home.’ And he stood up, and immediately took the mat and went out before all of them; so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, ‘We have never seen anything like this!’” (2: 5, 11-12).

In the book, Mark as Story, which we were assigned to read by our beloved New Testament professor at Seminary of the Southwest, the authors share some insights on what we learn about faith through these nameless characters in Jesus’ story: “The faith of the minor characters is important, because the work of the rule of God is contingent on people who ‘turn around and put faith in the good news.’ … Sometimes, friends or family bring the person to be healed… The active faith of these surrogates counts for the faith of trust of those on whose behalf they have come.”

As Mark describes, “When Jesus saw their faith,” it was then that he pronounced forgiveness and healing would be given to the paralytic man. The faith of his friends had made it possible for the man to be restored to health by Jesus. However, as the authors of Mark as Story observe, “For Mark, faith does not itself restore the suppliant, for it is God alone who restores. However, because neither Jesus nor God forces healing, faith becomes essential as a way to release and receive healing. Faith does not have to do with correct beliefs about Jesus. For Mark, faith is a matter of trusting that God will act through Jesus. Such faith gives people access to God’s power.”

As believers in Christ, sometimes we are blessed to be given the role of suppliant on behalf of another—God allows us the privilege of being in a position, through our own faith, of seeking healing on behalf of someone else. We do this through praying for someone in need, but also as we stand by someone as they seek healing. Maybe we go with someone to their appointments, a prayerful and reassuring presence, an advocate for them with their medical team. Maybe along with others we help point someone who has been resistant to healing toward new resources for health and wholeness. As we are reminded today in Mark 2, “By faith, the suppliant is empowered to be a partner in the healing with God” (Mark as Story 131-132).

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When has someone been a suppliant on your behalf, praying to God for your healing? When have you experienced others taking the role of advocate for you, making sure you have access to the caregivers and resources needed to promote health and wholeness in your life? When have you taken on these roles for others, and what did you learn by living out your faith in this way?

Daily Challenge

If you’re looking for a good resource to help you dig deeper in the Gospel of Mark, consider getting your own copy of Mark as Story, which helps us understand this Gospel account through focusing on its narrator, settings, plot, characters, and audience.

Change is Coming - July 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15; 1 Samuel 18:5-16,27b-30; Acts 11:19-30; Mark 1:29-45

Last night, I worshiped at our 5:00 p.m. Celtic service of Holy Eucharist.  At that service, we have a number of alternative prayers, candles, and instrumental music, and lately, we have been using Eucharistic Prayer C from the Book of Common Prayer.  Often referred to as the ‘Star Wars’ prayer, it draws attention to “the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our island home.”  It’s weird and earthy, and I love it. 

But it’s not my favorite for those reasons.  At the end of the Eucharistic Prayer is my absolute favorite few lines.  We are commanded to “Open our eyes to see your hand at work in the world about us. Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in his name.” What a powerful way of communicating the hope and power of the Eucharist!  We are coming to be renewed, strengthened, and changed!  Yes, it is about sin and redemption, but it’s also about a lot more. 

Here is the kicker:  if we need to be renewed and strengthened, then there is something we all need that we don’t already have.  The people who show up on Sunday are not complete without God’s grace and renewal.  And the people who leave Sunday are better off than they were before they walked in. 

In today’s Gospel, there is a lot of healing.  Demons are cast out, people are cured, a leper is made clean.  People’s lives are fundamentally changed.  When people encounter Jesus, they are not the same people as before.  

The power of the Gospel is that this same gift is what we experience each invitation to the table, to be healed, to be renewed, to be made clean, to be strengthened, and to be changed.  In the words of Annie Dillard, ‘we are mixing up a batch of TNT.”  You and I will be different when we walk out of the building. I think a more serious consideration should be if we are open and willing to that change? 

If you have the option of going to Church this Sunday and you feel safe doing so, please do.  If you can’t get to church and live in the Birmingham area, someone from Saint Stephen’s will bring you the Holy Eucharist (just let me know).  And I’m praying that after those sacred moments, once again, life will never be the same.  Isn’t that what believe?  Or does it all hinge on an openness to believe that truth? 

Change is coming, and it’s coming Sunday.  Are you open to what could happen?

John+

 Questions for Self-Reflection:  Is the Holy Eucharist a part of your life of faith?  What role does it play?  How has the pandemic changed that practice for you?  What has filled its place?

Daily Challenge:  Spend some time with the four different Eucharistic Prayers in the Book of Common Prayer.  On the sidebar click “the Holy Eucharist” and then click “Rite II.”  Consider which language is most meaningful to you. 

The Shepherd and the Philistine – July 10

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 20, 21:1-7(8-14); PM Psalm 110:1-5(6-7), 116, 117; 1 Samuel 17:31-49; Acts 11:1-18; Mark 1:14-28

I can still remember being eight or nine years old and sitting on my bed with my mom, as she read stories to me from this large burgundy book, Hurlbut’s Story of the Bible. It was hers when she was young, and she shared it with me. One of the tales that fascinated me was the epic fight between David the shepherd and Goliath the Philistine giant. I can see in my mind’s eye the picture of little boy David and enormous warrior Goliath, a mismatched pair for battle. And today, we get to read a portion of the story through the scripture appointed from 1 Samuel.

Reading the story today, two things stick out. First, David speaks of himself to Saul as “your servant” - in third person, which is both amusing and odd. Second, this shepherd is not just a meek and mild pretty face. David is a badass:

“But David said to Saul, ‘Your servant used to keep sheep for his father; and whenever a lion or a bear came, and took a lamb from the flock, I went after it and struck it down, rescuing the lamb from its mouth; and if it turned against me, I would catch it by the jaw, strike it down, and kill it. Your servant has killed both lions and bears; and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be like one of them, since he has defied the armies of the living God.’” (1 Samuel 17:34-36)

Yes, you read that correctly. This shepherd fought lions and bears with his bare hands, and it sounds like he did it singlehandedly. He would grab their jaws – which sounds nearly impossible while evading the powerful paws and claws of these predators. He would wrench the prey from their mouths. He would then kill the offending beast. I imagine the animal as immense as a grizzly bear, with Werner Herzog narrating the documentary, but even if the powerful predators were the size of a puma or bobcat, what David describes is harrowing and bold. He a fierce protector of his flock.

In verse 37, the shepherd credits Yahweh (the Lord) with keeping him safe, saving him from the paws and jaws of bears and lions. If God protects David from predators, then surely he will be safe from the hands of the offending Philistine. Perhaps it is not surprising, then, that though it was offered to him by Saul, the beautiful shepherd boy wears no external armor to shield his body or head when he goes into battle. David trusts the Lord to be with him as he wields his sling – slight in presentation yet dangerous as a weapon of ancient warfare.

When the Philistine (referred to only once as Goliath of Gath in 1 Samuel 17:4) meets his opponent on the field of battle, he says, “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the field.” David retorts with a great speech:

“You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This very day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head; and I will give the dead bodies of the Philistine army this very day to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the earth, so that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, and that all this assembly may know that the Lord does not save by sword and spear;  for the battle is the Lord’s and he will give you into our hand.” (v. 45-47)

David, speaking eloquently, brings a strong resolve that is unparalleled. To him, it is not a singular match between two people. Rather, David is representing all of Israel and is backed by God, facing the defiance of the Philistines who have affronted the Lord. David far from a meek and mild pretty face, the baby of the family. He is on fire for God. It is God’s righteousness that propels him forward into battle. And David prevailed.

While I have always seen David as an underdog in this epic battle, perhaps I was looking through the lens of the Philistine, Goliath of Gath. This morning I see the story differently. The story that Israel retold to their daughters and sons showed what we see in holy scripture: a fierce shepherd trusted fully in God, while tending sheep and facing adversaries.

The hand of the living God is here to save David, and that hand is here to save you, too. Whatever struggle is plaguing you or those you love, I pray that you see the loving, strong hand of the Lord guiding you in pleasure and in hardship. May you be strengthened by God this day.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When was a time you were underestimated? Who have you gauged incorrectly before, who appeared stronger or more resilient than you expected? What happened next?

Daily Challenge

David was prepared for battle because he was grounded in God's love for him -- not in his own drive for success. Spend two minutes in quiet prayer about how the Lord is equipping you in love and life - for what battles are behind and ahead for you. Then, take five minutes to journal about what comes up for you in the witness of David the shepherd.

Like a Dove - July 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 22; 1 Samuel 17:17-30; Acts 10:34-48; Mark 1:1-13

Today’s Reflection

“In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’” –Mark 1: 9-11

I’ve always found birds both comforting and fascinating. Their songs bring me a sense of joy and peace. Their fluttering and gliding about the yard, eating seeds, finding worms, splashing around in water, reminds me always of the ways God provides for even the birds of the air. Birds’ interactions with one another often remind me by analogy of the ways in which we people can interact with one another—there’s enough seed for everyone, and different kinds of birds can all come and find sustenance together around the same feeder. In my childhood home, one of my bedroom windows looked out onto a small patio, from which hanging pots hung down from the eaves. I still remember the mother dove who once decided to make a nest for her eggs in one of these potted plants, just outside my window, and I recall watching with expectation for when the dove eggs would hatch.

So, it’s not surprising that, when I made my first visit to the Seminary of the Southwest in Austin back in February 2016, I noticed the doves. Maybe birds are not what everyone notices when they visit a seminary campus, but the doves’ presence there was very striking to me. The seminary campus is quite small, a cloister of two-story, limestone-covered buildings gathered roughly in a circle facing inward toward an open area called the Motte (which, as our seminary dean shared with us is a term, specific to the Southwest, for a grove of trees). The trees in the Motte are all oak trees, many of which are beautiful old live oak trees that have been there since the Rather House (now the seminary administration building) was a family home in the old days of Austin.

In the quiet of that first evening at the seminary, and again in other quiet moments on that campus visit, I noticed the sounds of doves calling in these oak trees. The acoustics of the stone buildings arranged around the Motte amplified their calls. As one who was there as part of an intense period of discernment, and as one who has long looked for and listened for God in nature, I found a sense of God’s peace and holiness in the sounds of those doves. It felt like confirmation, in a way, that this would be a peaceful and holy place to be formed for ministry. Later, when my family moved there for seminary, we put out a feeder to attract these same doves to the little tree that shaded our front porch. And as I went about my seminary life those three years, I always stopped to listen when I heard the doves continue to call out to one another—and, maybe, also to me.

In our Judeo-Christian heritage, doves have long played an important role in the relationship between God and people. When the earth flooded and Noah took his family and the animals into the ark, he sent a dove out to see if it would return; when the dove returned with a sprig of olive leaves in its beak, Noah saw it as a sign that the waters were receding. In the Song of Solomon, doves are used in this love poem as a way of describing the beauty of the beloved. Throughout the Scriptures, doves are frequently mentioned as the sacrifice that people of meager means, like Joseph and Mary, could afford to bring to the temple.

And so, when we read in Mark’s Gospel that at the baptism of Jesus the Holy Spirit descended on Jesus “like a dove,” we are not surprised to read of the Spirit being described in this way. If you’ve ever watched doves, you know that they flutter their wings in a particular way as they hover down to a landing. This seems to be what Mark was getting at when he uses the image of the dove to describe the Holy Spirit descending on Jesus as he rose forth from the waters of the Jordan.

Over this past year of living in Birmingham, I’ve enjoyed all the birds who call our big backyard beneath the pecan and oak trees home. Rarely (if ever), have I noticed doves amongst the cardinals and thrashers and blue birds and the rest. But lately, just these past few weeks, a pair of doves has started to appear, and call me mystical or out there, but when I see them I do feel a sense of peace and reassurance—a sense that God’s Spirit is in our midst, and has been all along.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What reminds you of the presence of the Holy Spirit at work in your life and in the world around you? A gentle breeze? A gusty wind? A cleansing rain? The waves of the ocean? The flickering of a candle’s flame? A roaring fire? The sounds of doves? The voice of a friend?

Daily Challenge

See and read about one visual representation of Christ’s baptism in the Visual Commentary on Scripture. You can also use the search feature on this web site to explore how other artists have used doves in visual interpretations of scripture over the centuries.

"My Well is Dry, and that's Okay" - July 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 18:1-20; PM Psalm 18:21-50; 1 Samuel 16:14-17:11; Acts 10:17-33; Luke 24:36-53

On Monday morning, I awoke at 5:15 a.m. to start writing my reflection.  Sometimes I write in the afternoon or evenings, and sometimes I get a late start with an exceptionally early morning.  A fun celebration on the 4th of July after a full day at church had me waiting until the next morning.  

I’d been thinking a lot about independence and freedom, had even prepared by reading the Declaration of Independence and as I sat there in front of my computer screen, the words stumbled off my fingers.  I tried to write about freedom (I had just preached about this the day before).  I typed words from the readings, and the special collects for the day, and cut excerpts out of the Declaration of Independence.  I worked through a full pot of coffee. 

An hour and a half later, I looked at my computer screen and for the first time since March of 2020, I closed Microsoft Word with nothing to show or share.  I drafted an email to Katherine and Becky, saying “My Well is Dry” but decided not to send that either.  And I left for a long bike ride on a beautiful Monday morning 

For most of the morning (and on and off this week), I have felt guilty.  Writing multiple times a week for the past year and a half has been a huge gift, a practice that has shaped my own process for reflection, forced me to spend more time in Holy Scripture, and been a vehicle for creativity and contemplation.  It’s a practice I plan on upholding for as long as I can, one that I hope will last much longer. Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed that I couldn’t make everything work on Monday. My own self-reflection is a reminder about how easy it is to value our self-worth on what we can produce, or accomplish, or achieve. 

Today’s Gospel is the very end of the Gospel according to Luke.  It is an account of the Resurrection.  In a way, the disciples are commissioned to go forth living into the reality of the truth that had been revealed to them.  I like Luke’s interpretation because he reminds the disciples that they “are witnesses of all these things.”  It’s not up to the disciples to create content, produce value, start something new, but instead to be witnesses. 

You and I are not wrapped up in this crazy story of Resurrection and God’s love because of what we can do or produce.  We are a part of this movement of faith because of what God has already done.  It’s a helpful reminder. Take a day off, skip the meeting, ignore the email, and remember it’s not about what you can do, but what God has already done.  We are witnesses and that is good enough. I’ll try to believe it too.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where are moments lately that you haven’t been able to accomplish what you set out to?  What role does ambition, accomplishment, and pride play in your ego?  How do you understand God’s call to be witnesses of the Resurrection?

Daily Challenge:  Let go of something you are supposed to do today.  Instead, read a passage of Scripture, call a friend or loved one, and offer to pray with them. 

Angels among Us – July 7

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14; 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Acts 10:1-16; Luke 24:12-35

In Acts 10 and Luke 24, we read of human brushes with angels.

A centurion named Cornelius has a vision in which he clearly sees an angel coming toward him and it calls him by name and gives him direction: ‘Your prayers and your alms have ascended as a memorial before God. Now send men to Joppa for a certain Simon who is called Peter; he is lodging with Simon, a tanner, whose house is by the seaside.’ (Acts 10:4-6)  Cornelius obeys, in a story that is unfurled more in the following verses in chapter 10. Because of the angel’s intercession, Cornelius and three others heard Peter share the Good News and they were baptized. The angel’s message opened the door to a more robust encounter with the Divine.

After the death (and unbeknownst resurrection) of Jesus, two of his followers were walking on the road to Emmaus. Jesus began walking alongside them, though their eyes were prevented from seeing it was truly the Christ. He asked them what they were talking about. They unfurled the happenings of late, retelling of the death of Jesus and odd happenings in the wake of the Nazorean’s burial:

“Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.” (Luke 24:22-24)

Jesus calls them foolish for not understanding all that was going on, and then talks through the story of Israel as God’s people – retelling the scriptures and interpreting the scriptures that had foretold Jesus’ ministry and sacrifice. When they reached Emmaus, it looked as if the “stranger” (Jesus) was going elsewhere, but they convinced him to join them. In Luke’s account, we read:

“When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?’” (Luke 24:30-32)

Though they had just wrapped up a long walk to Emmaus, the two headed back to Jerusalem at once to tell Jesus’ inner circle and others of their brush with the risen Lord.

Reading these scriptural accounts of angelic interactions (and brushes with the risen Christ), I think about the power of divine revelation. I am struck by how God’s gift of angels upon our journey is fleeting, surprising, and yet powerful in bringing us to deeper understanding of the Lord’s involvement in our lives. The song that keeps bubbling up in my mind this morning is “Angels among Us”, recorded in the early 1990s by the country band Alabama. Those angels among us might help us find our way on a foggy night. Those angels among us might be the medical team bringing us strength and encouragement after a terrible injury. Those angels among us might be the words of assurance in our darkest hours, when it feels that all is lost.

If you find yourself in need and are calling out in sadness, talk to a friend. Reach out to your clergy at Saint Stephen’s. Know that you are loved by God and that you are not alone.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When you think of stories of angels, what comes to mind? What does the term "angelic" mean to you?

Who is a messenger of God's love in your life?

Daily Challenge

In Acts, Cornelius the centurion was a prayerful soldier. An angel came to him in a vision after his fervent prayers to God and his disciplined giving to the church to help those in need.

Take time this week to pray like Cornelius - pray that God will open your eyes to where you are needed. Give like Cornelius, giving alms to the church to help those who are hungry, suffering, and in a dire time.

The First to Share the Good News - July 6

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 5, 6; PM Psalm 10, 11; 1 Samuel 15:24-35; Acts 9:32-43; Luke 23:56b-24:11

Today’s Reflection

Growing up in a different kind of church and in a different time (the 70s and 80s), the emphasis of what we learned about the Bible was likely quite different than what children coming up at Saint Stephen’s are learning today. We did get very good at learning the books of the Bible in order, through songs and the always popular “sword drill” (in which a book of the Bible is named and the competition is on as to who can open their Bible to it the fastest). And we heard many stories of the “heroes” of the Bible—people like Noah and Abraham and Moses, David and Jonathan, the twelve disciples, Zaccheus (who can forget the song where he climbed up in the sycamore tree, for the Lord he wanted to see), and the apostle Paul.

Though I went to Sunday School just about every week growing up, and learned many interesting stories from the Bible, looking back I don’t recall hearing much about the faithful women to be found in Scripture. The main women I remember learning about were Eve (along with Adam) and Mary (along with Joseph). Until I began reading Bible stories to my own children, years later, I didn’t really learn the details of other women’s stories, like those of Esther and Ruth and Naomi. While it’s true that fewer stories and voices of faithful women are recorded in Scripture, their stories are there—it’s just a matter of listening for them and shining a light on them when they do appear so that the experiences of all people of faith are valued.

Today’s Scriptures give us a couple of opportunities to learn from the experiences of these faithful women. In our Gospel passage from Luke 23-24, we read of Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and some anonymous others who arose early in the morning, the day after Jesus’ crucifixion, to go to the tomb to anoint his body with spices and ointments. But when they arrived at the tomb and found it empty, “they were perplexed” and then when they were met by “two men in dazzling clothes” (angels we assume), “they were terrified.” These faithful women had gone to do their duty, following the tradition of their faith by going to anoint the body. But then they were met with a situation they could never have expected—the body was gone!

The angels helped the women to realize what had happened to Jesus: “‘Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.’ Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles.”

Though their initial response was to be perplexed and terrified, once it sunk in that Jesus had been resurrected from the dead—just as he had said—the women realized what they must do next: They must go and tell the apostles and all the rest. And that is just what these faithful women did—which means that the very first people ever to share the Gospel (or Good News) of Jesus’ resurrection were these women. This is a perspective on Scripture that was never taught to me growing up—that women played such a pivotal role in the spreading of the Gospel. I am grateful for the role that women have played in spreading the Good News about Jesus from the very beginning—and the good example they are for us all to step out in faith to share the story of Jesus, even when, at first, we may feel perplexed or afraid to do so.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What Bible stories stand out most to you from when you first started to learn about the Bible?

Daily Challenge

What women and men have you met along the way, in your own life, who have inspired you in your faith? Take the time to pray for them today, and maybe take the time to send them a note or give them a call to thank them for how they shaped your faith.

What’s in a name? – July 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 137:1-6(7-9), 144; PM Psalm 104; 1 Samuel 14:16-30; Acts 9:10-19a; Luke 23:32-43

Family names are a big deal on my mom’s side of the family. I was named after my great grandmother Katherine Beaufort Tweedy. My parents almost gave me the same middle name, too, so that my monogram would match hers, but my dad dissented (thankfully) and they used Stuart instead, which is my mom’s middle name. I attended a small private school in Montgomery. While many of my classmates had long lineage in the state’s capital city, my family was from north Alabama. We were not “old Montgomery” folks. Nevertheless, in the class of roughly 45 kids who attended from kindergarten through twelfth grade, there were four Katherines (some spelled differently) and two others who went by a nickname rooted in their given name, Katherine. If you called for Katherine, more than 10 percent of the class would answer!

There are three distinct people with the name Ananias in Acts, a likely cause for confusion when reading the Bible. The Ananias in Acts 5 is the one who is not living fully into the ethos of full sharing and disclosure. When he and his wife Sapphira sell land and secretly decide to keep part of the proceeds for themselves, Ananias is confronted by the apostle Peter about his “Satan-filled heart” and immediately drops dead. The other Ananias is the high priest on the Jewish Council (Sanhedrin) in Acts 23 who examines and censures Paul for being a source of friction and disorder.

However, the Ananias referenced in Acts 9 is crucial in the conversion story of Saul to Paul. We read that he is a disciple – a follower of Jesus – in Damascus, Syria. He has a holy collision with God through a vision:

The Lord said to him in a vision, ‘Ananias.’ He answered, ‘Here I am, Lord.’ The Lord said to him, ‘Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.’ (v. 10-12)

At first blush, this whisp of a vision is both inspirational and humbling, right? God reaches out to this person who is a disciple for Jesus the Christ, and the Lord is asking him to do something. The words from God are so clear and descriptive, with the name of the person in need, exactly where to find them, and what they are specifically praying in the moment. Ananias responds differently than expected. Rather than saying, “Yes, Lord, I will go right now,” he says, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your holy people in Jerusalem; and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” (v. 13-14)  Ananias needs some holy convincing, for what he knows makes the situation appear tenuous.

God does not drop it. Ananias is needed…by God and by Saul/Paul. The Lord says, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” (v. 15-16)  Can you almost hear Ananias sigh as God finishes that sentence? Ananias trusts God. He knows that God is faithful, and that he must do as God has asked.

I sat on a web conference last week for Alabama faith and community leaders about COVID-19. This call was to help leverage grassroots community efforts to improve vaccine education and get as many Alabamians as possible immunized against COVID-19. Saint Stephen’s own parishioner Danielle Dunbar, Executive Director of the Alabama Association of Nonprofits, was on the call and spoke eloquently about success stories of COVID-19 vaccination efforts led by Alabama churches and nonprofit organizations. One of the messages being driven home by the White House Office of Public Engagement – which coordinated the meeting – was that local trusted leaders can help connect people, answer questions about resources to get vaccinated, and share science-based information to fully inform communities about this terrible disease.

According the Mayo Clinic’s vaccine tracker website this morning, only 40% of Alabamians have had at least one COVID-19 dose. One-third of Alabamians ages 18 to 64 are fully vaccinated, with about 41% having one dose. So, friends, please receive this message of concern and care from someone who has public health experience and pastoral immersion over this past year with families who have lost loved ones from COVID-19: if you know of someone who is uncertain about vaccines, encourage them to talk with their health care provider. All questions are valid and deserve to be addressed. If you want to be vaccinated against COVID-19, you may easily locate vaccine sites near you by going to http://vaccines.gov or call 1-800-232-0233.

Be healthy. Be well. Know that you are loved by God.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

When have you needed holy convincing? When have you prayed for someone else to hear the holy convincing message of God?

Daily Challenge

Consider talking to someone about COVID-19. Inquire how this pandemic has affected their faith, their experience with neighbors, and their livelihood. Let them know about community resources for vaccination. Ask how you can pray for them.

Holy Lightning - July 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 140, 142; PM Psalm 141, 143:1-11(12); 1 Samuel 13:19-14:15; Acts 9:1-9; Luke 23:26-31

Today’s Reflection

The story of Saul’s conversion is so dramatic that now, when people have a similarly life-altering, perspective-changing experience we might say they had a “road to Damascus” experience. A total 180-degree change in purpose and life direction. Paul had been a zealous persecutor of “any who belonged to the Way,” which is how Luke refers to the earliest Christians. He had just asked for a letter allowing him to go bring any Christ followers in Damascus, bound, to Jerusalem to answer for their faith.

Saul was on his way to go persecute more Christians when God decided it was time for Saul to hear from him directly and thereby have his whole life’s purpose changed. The way God went about this was not just spiritual but also physical, making it impossible for Saul and his companions to ignore: “a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice.” God used something that could be seen and felt and heard, things Saul and his companions could physically sense, to make sure they listened to the message he had for them: “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” When Saul asked who was speaking, the reply he received was this: “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up, enter the city and you will be told what you are to do.”

Not only was the way of getting Saul’s attention dramatic—something akin to being struck by holy lightning—but the message was dramatic as well. It’s not just that Saul was persecuting followers of the Way of Jesus, but in so doing Saul was persecuting Jesus himself. If the church is the body of Christ, then it makes sense if you persecute the church then you are by extension persecuting Jesus himself. This sounds reminiscent of Jesus’s earlier admonition, “Whatever you do to the least of these, you do to me.”

These days, it can be hard to imagine God speaking to us in as dramatic of ways as Jesus spoke to Saul on the road to Damascus that day. But I believe that God is always speaking to us, always wanting to us to be aware of his daily presence in our lives and wanting to us to really listen to how God is moving in us and in the people and world around us. Maybe we will not literally hear the sound of Jesus’ voice in as plain of a way as Saul did, but if we orient our lives toward God through prayer, scripture, worship, time with other Christ followers, and time in God’s creation, we will find that God still speaks to us as we make these spaces for holy listening and holy conversation a central part of our lives.

Speaking for myself, some of the most life-altering, perspective-changing experiences I have had tend to come through turning points in my health or relationships or professional life. Seven years ago, I began to have some significant health problems that came on rather suddenly. I wasn’t struck down by heavenly light, but through a noticeable change in how I felt physically and not being able to do as much physically as I was used to being able to do, the experience has had a long-lasting impact on my relationships with God and others. These physical changes in me made me less able to do everything for myself—and thereby made it necessary for me to physically stop and ask for help from God and others. My sense of what was possible, what was necessary, and what was important was changed through this time of physical illness, and the ongoing implications for my health. This time of being ‘struck down’ physically seven years ago also coincided with a shift in me spiritually, which ultimately led me on a path on which God changed the course of my whole life and vocation through calling me to serve God and his people as a priest.

I wonder how God has been and is continuing to work in us, individually and collectively, through this worldwide time of pandemic. We have been stopped in our tracks and forced to see ourselves, our health, and one another in sometimes radically different ways. Living together through this time of intensity and fear, with so many lives lost, has reminded us in dramatic ways how our lives are inextricably interconnected to one another’s, both with people in our community and church, and with people throughout the world.

As we emerge from this dramatic “road to Damascus” moment that is the COVID-19 pandemic, I wonder how we will find ourselves changed. How will we get up and move forward even when at first, like Saul, we still cannot see the path forward for ourselves? Saul needed his friends to help him get up and lead him toward sustenance in that moment. Let’s remember we all need to stand ready to offer one another a hand and help each other up as we move forward from this life-altering, road-to-Damascus experience of living through a global pandemic. We need each other to discern our next steps and make sure we make it safely together to the next place down the road.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Through the past 16 months, how have you noticed your perspective on life changed by living through this time of global pandemic? Has your sense of how your life is interconnected with others changed—if so, how? Has your perspective on yourself and your role in the lives of others changed—if so, how?

Daily Challenge

In your prayer time today, set aside some time to reflect on how you have seen and felt God working in your life this past year. Thank God for specific people who have taken the time to reach out to you and your family. Ask God to place someone on your heart who you should reach out to today, someone who needs an extra word of reassurance or maybe even a helping hand.

Bending the Rules, Just a Bit - July 1

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 131, 132, [133]; PM Psalm 134, 135; 1 Samuel 13:5-18; Acts 8:26-40; Luke 23:13-25

I am deeply moved by the story in Acts today about the Ethiopian Eunuch and his desire to be baptized.   We are led to believe the Eunuch is Jewish, going to Jerusalem to pray.  He has a chance encounter with a man named Philip who shares a vision about Jesus.  It is such a powerful experience that they stop when seeing some water and the Eunuch asks to be Baptized by his new friend, Philip.  “He commanded the chariot to stop, and both of them, Philip and the eunuch, went down into the water, and Philip baptized him (Acts 8:38).”

There is no long process, or filling out forms, setting dates on the calendar, and inviting family.  The text certainly doesn’t suggest a fancy baptismal gown that has been passed down for generations, like the ones that are so important in my family. 

One of the practices of our faith community that has been very different over the past year and a half is the sacrament of Baptism. Eight years ago, I had two different friends reach out to me inviting their newly ordained friend to baptize their children. One was a friend of mine since we were in second grade and the other, a friend since high school. Both were people that I spent a lot of time with as an adult, and I was hopeful my faith could have an impact on their lives in tangible ways. 

I was fresh out of seminary, deeply formed from lots of reading and discussion with classmates, and I can remember how important I felt it to be for us to do public Baptism.  I encouraged my friends to consider doing the Baptism as a part of one of my church services, but neither friend was active in my faith community, or any faith community for that matter.  The end result was my friend from high school found another priest to do a private Baptism, one that wasn’t such a stickler for the community tradition (or had a better pastoral sense), and my oldest friend’s child has still not been baptized.

And now, after a year and a half pandemic, almost all of our recent baptisms have been private (although we are beginning to do public again), and I am regretting that missed opportunity years ago. As much as I still believe that Baptism is for the community, I am learning that sometimes our ideas about the way things should be, need to be stretched and challenged.  And sometimes we do things even if there is a better way because not doing it is a worse alternative.

I hope I am always open to what the Spirit might be up to in the future, and the willingness to go along just like Philip.  The text suggests that it wasn’t just the Eunuch’s life that was changed, but Philip’s too. “When they came up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord snatched Philip away; the eunuch saw him no more, and went on his way rejoicing. But Philip found himself at Azotus, and as he was passing through the region, he proclaimed the good news to all the towns until he came to Caesarea” (Acts 8:39-40).

John+ 

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What are decisions that you regret because you stuck too much to the rules?  How would you do things differently today?

Daily Challenge: Pick one rule that you should bend a little bit today and try to do just that.  Consider how this might be helpful to your own growth. 

Can't Buy Me Love - June 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:145-176; PM Psalm 128, 129, 130; 1 Samuel 12:1-6,16-25; Acts 8:14-25; Luke 23:1-12

Then Peter and John laid their hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit. Now when Simon saw that the Spirit was given through the laying on of the apostles’ hands, he offered them money, saying, ‘Give me also this power so that anyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit.‘ But Peter said to him, ‘May your silver perish with you, because you thought you could obtain God’s gift with money!   Acts 8:17-20

Yesterday was the feast of Saints Peter and Paul, and so I was thinking about the impact these two big hitters of the apostles have been upon the life of the church – as they helped shape what a people following Jesus – called Christians – do through action and belief. The scripture from Acts 8 today draws me moreso toward Peter – and particularly his role as a leader through right and wrong, highlighted by the interaction with Simon Magus.

We meet Simon in Tuesday’s reading from Acts – “Now a certain man named Simon had previously practiced magic in the city and amazed the people of Samaria, saying that he was someone great. All of them, from the least to the greatest, listened to him eagerly, saying, ‘This man is the power of God that is called Great.’ And they listened eagerly to him because for a long time he had amazed them with his magic.” (8:9-11) Simon wooed and amazed the crowds with sorcery, passing off his powers as divine. Yet, when the apostle Philip came to Samaria (a region in Palestine) proclaiming the word of God and doing acts of faith and healing, Simon Magus was intrigued. Men and women alike were being baptized. Simon found his own faith piqued and sought baptism, too. He became a follower of Philip, astounded by the miraculous power he demonstrated.

So, we have this guy who has made his living doing tricks and leveraging people’s interest, allowing them to deify him: “This man is the power of God…”. Then we see a conversion event in which he is baptized. In Greek the word for amendment of life is metanoia. Perhaps you can think of someone who has turned their life around from a path of hopeless darkness to a space of joy and potential. Those are stories of inspiration, reminding us that change can happen and redemption is possible. That is not what is going on with Simon the Sorcerer, sadly.

The apostles’ continued demonstrating the power of God, for God’s glory and not their own. John and Peter also came prayerfully to Samaria, hearing that they had received the Good News of God in Jesus. They laid hands upon the heads of these newly faithful and the Holy Spirit flowed upon them. Simon Magus wanted a piece of that attention and prestige, so he offered a portion of his riches in exchange – to have the power that the apostles had. The apostle Peter – upon whom God said the Church would be founded – put his foot down. God’s spiritual gifts could not be bargained for with earthly possessions. Simon Magus’ heart was not in the right place, as he was posturing for personal gain, not the glory of God.

It is from Simon Magus’ example that the term simony is derived. 13th century theologian Thomas Aquinas wrote about simony in his work Summa Theologica, defining it as “a deliberate design of selling or buying something spiritual or annexed to the spiritual”. The term is also used to point to gaining a role in the church through the exchange of money. This was a heated issue in the not-to-distant history of Thomas’ time, for late in the 11th century, the Investiture Controversy arose due to a battle of control between Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV and newly elected Pope Gregory VII over who would appoint bishops. Bottom line among the drama: money would not influence God’s will.

Friends, God cannot be controlled by human whims. Simon Magus missed that in his penchant for influence. As we think about the witness of Jesus and the movement of the Holy Spirit in God’s church, we are called to joy and wonder before our God. It is that exuberance and swirling that inspires and draws others near. It is by offering our hearts to God that we are invited in – and God then moves us in beautiful ways.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Can you think of a conversion event in your own life? What or who brought about the change? Who knew about it then? Was the change one that continues still today?

What does the story of Simon Magus leave you wondering?

Daily Challenge

Want to learn more about the complicated character we call Simon Magus? Set aside ten minutes to check out this fascinating entry on Simon the Sorcerer in an online version of the 1906 Jewish Encyclopedia.

Let Us Go into the House of the Lord - June 29

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [120], 121, 122, 123; PM Psalm 124, 125, 126, [127]; 1 Samuel 11:1-15; Acts 8:1-13; Luke 22:63-71

Today’s Reflection

Certain lines of scripture—or poetry or lines of music—can with just a few words bring me back to a particular place or time that I associate with those words. It can be like that with tastes or smells or sounds, too. Maybe it is like that for you, too. The first verse of Psalm 122 is like that for me: “I was glad when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord.’”

Whenever I hear or see this verse now, it takes me back to the children’s chapel service we would do each Tuesday and Wednesday morning with the preschoolers from the St. Thomas Early Learning Center at my church back in College Station. On the weeks that I was the priest to lead preschool chapel, I would go outside to the courtyard between the church and the school and ring the very large, very loud bell that would let all the teachers and students scheduled for chapel on that day know it was time to stop what they were doing, line up, and make their way over to the historic chapel for our weekly time of songs and Bible story and prayers. If a class got over to the chapel before I had the chance to ring the bell, they would stand there and watch me or the school director, Beth, ring the bell—though some would very sweetly cover their ears because it was so loud. The ringing of the bell, which we also did about five minutes before each of our Sunday worship services, let everyone know it was time for “us to go to the house of the Lord.”

Once we were inside, classes would start to file into their class pews in our smaller, wood paneled historic chapel. I would go to the front and begin to light the candles, which I waited to do until they started to come in to as some of them especially loved to be there for that moment when the candles would be lit. After everyone was there, the teachers and I would raise a hand in the air to let everyone know it was time to be quiet so that we could begin. And then we would sing our morning song together, the same song every time, which no doubt becomes embedded in each one’s memory and carried with them through life long after they graduate from St. Thomas ELC:

Good morning, Lord! It’s a beautiful day!

Good morning, Lord! I’m going your way.

Open my eyes, and let me see

Someone who needs a friend like me.

I know that I can surely be

Loving, caring, always sharing.

Good morning, Lord! It’s a beautiful day!

Good morning, Lord! I’m going your way.

I can still picture and feel all of the movements we would make with our hands and arms to enact the different lines of the song, and can picture the little ones doing all the motions as they would sing this morning song in their sweet preschool voices.

As soon as we would finish the last line of that song, we would pause just a second and then I would begin our opening sentences, kind of like the opening acclamation or other parts of our liturgy, which we would say together responsively—always these same lines:

Leader: I was glad when they said to me,

Children: We will go into the house of the Lord.

Leader: What does the Cross say?

Children: God loves us.

Leader: What does our being in Chapel say?

Children: We love God.

Leader: What do the candles say?

Children: God is the light of the world. God gives His light to shine upon our way. He hears the songs we sing, and listens when we pray.

So much simple truth is embedded in these opening lines, beginning with when we hear Psalm 121: 1, “I was glad when they said to me, ‘We will go into the house of the Lord.’” And the other parts of the responsive reading, too, really focused on why we were gathering there at chapel that day: Because God loves us. And we love God. God lights our way, hears our songs, and listens to our prayers. From their earliest memories, these children will have these simple truths embedded deep within their minds—and hopefully, too, within their hearts. They will carry these simple truths about God’s love with them as they grow older, and hopefully, no matter where in the world they may go, or what they grow up to do, they will always know, deep down, what it means to go into the house of the Lord—a place where they will be reminded of how much God loves and cares for each one of them.

The chapel liturgy continued to unfold with preschool versions of the Gloria, a Creed song, Prayers of the People, the Lord’s Prayer, and most importantly for some, a Birthday Blessing, when I would get to say a prayer over each little one having a birthday that week. In all its beautiful simplicity and repetition—using the exact same responses, songs, and prayers each and every time, this short, 20-minute chapel service reinforced not only the shape of the Episcopal liturgy (at a level the children didn’t even realize), but more importantly through repetition it reinforced how much each child is loved and cared for by God. I’m grateful that I had these simple truths about who God is and how much God loves us reinforced in my heart and mind through that year of sharing chapel with the children of St. Thomas.

—Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

What does it mean to you to go into the house of the Lord? What did you miss most about sharing corporate, in-person worship together in the many months we had to worship remotely from home? What parts of the Morning Prayer service or the Holy Eucharist liturgy stick in your head and remind you simple truths about God and our faith?

Daily Challenge

You can see the full children’s chapel liturgy from St. Thomas Early Learning Center here.

What the Spirit is Up To - June 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 106:1-18; PM Psalm 106:19-48; 1 Samuel 10:17-27; Acts 7:44-8:1a; Luke 22:52-62

“You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you are for ever opposing the Holy Spirit, just as your ancestors used to do.” – Stephen, 36 CE.  

This is Stephen, also known as Saint Stephen, apostle, martyr, and the one whom we as a community live up as the namesake for our own community. It’s also a Grateful Dead song that was played often in the 1960s and many have speculated it was just too difficult to play and eventually the song was phased out.  Even the song met its gruesome death, although in this case, I don’t think it was the crowd’s fault.

Stephen’s death sets up the great irony of our church community:  we are known for being welcoming, warm, accepting, and inclusive.  Historically we have been a place where people with all sorts of different views have built meaningful relationships that have deepened each other’s commitment to mutual understanding and holy listening.  This has caused tension at times, but I think that most of us realize that nothing worth doing is easy.  And yet Stephen is killed for his preaching and truth-telling.

It is these words that Stephen preaches that enrage the crowd and led Stephen to be taken out and stoned to death.  If this story doesn’t scare the beJesus out of preachers, I don’t know what would.  Let’s just say, I not sure I am ready to invite someone who embodies Stephen’s preaching style into our pulpit. 

But what he offers might be the most important theological truth we can consider: the Holy Spirit is active.  What Stephen witnessed was the Holy Spirit doing something new in the midst of his people, deepening their understanding of God, who had access to God (it was more than just the circumcised), and people were threatened. They were threatened that the institution that they had loved was going to look entirely different. 

As many of us are returning to in-person worship, some gone from being in person for almost two years, I wonder what we will notice that is new and different.  Is it the people who are gathered, the way we sing, or how close we sit together?  Is it the structures of leadership, new Bishops who have been elected, new clergy ordained, new people baptized and confirmed?  Will the church look and feel different?

A good reminder at all critical junctions in our lives is to consider if we are longing for the way things have always been, or are we open to what the Spirit has been doing? These seem to be at the crux of what Stephen is preaching. At least, in the words of Stephen, my hope is we are ‘not opposed to what the Spirit’ might be up to.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Have you ever shared a truth that has caused people to be upset?  What was your process for discernment in sharing that message?  Do you still believe that it was the right time, place, and way to share that truth?  Would you do it differently today? 

 Daily Challenge:  Part of making space for what the Holy Spirit is up to in our lives is to grieve for what we are losing.  Make a list of all things in church/faith that you miss that you used to enjoy and are no longer possible.  Now consider new things that you have found meaningful and life-giving that were not possible before.  How can we celebrate both?

Kneeling in prayer - June 26

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 107:33-43, 108:1-6(7-13); PM Psalm 33 1 Samuel 9:15-10:1; Acts 7:30-43; Luke 22:39-51

While at Camp McDowell for this session with rising 8th and 9th graders, the theme is “Since I Laid My Burdens Down”…exploring the life we lead as we carry around our burdens. We are naming some of those worries and stresses in our lives. We are learning ways to put those burdens down through prayer to God and practices to bring us stillness and a sense of calm. We are dreaming about what the fullness of life looks like when we put some of those burdens down. We are challenging ourselves to show respect and kindness to ourselves and to others, even when there are hard things we carry around. It is heavy and holy work that these campers and their counselors are doing to look at and put down their burdens. As these young people are maturing in their bodies and in their lives of faith, the program team is knitting together skits, activities, and scripture references to support this arc of learning.

One of the first nights here in “God’s Backyard”, I pondered and prayed about the many stresses swirling about – those named and unnamed. I felt the fearful weight of those worries…the heft of the reality that goes along with unearthing the burdens around us. I felt that I needed get down on my knees (kneeler or no kneeler) to pray. I prayed through fears and concerns, with my head bowed low. The weight was too much for me to resolve, so through prayer I tried to relinquish those worries to God.

As I read about the mercies of the Lord in good and bad times in Psalm 107, these verses jump out at me:

Yet when they were diminished and brought low,
through stress of adversity and sorrow,
He lifted up the poor out of misery
and multiplied their families like flocks of sheep.  (Psalm 107:39, 41)

The words from Luke 22 resonate, as well, as Jesus and the disciples are facing the heavy burden that the Son of Man will be capture, tried, and put to death. The earthly ministry they have experienced to date will be ending. Jesus acknowledges to his friends that things are hard, and then moves a short distance away (a stone’s throw), kneels on the ground, and prays to God.

I believe there are times when it helps to get down on our knees - especially when we feel “diminished and brought low through the stress of adversity and sorrow”. We see it modeled in Jesus’ ministry. Maybe you have experienced it, too.

God is present with us and ready to greet our joys and sorrows…so, let’s lay some of our burdens down this day.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Think about a time you've gotten on your knees in prayer. What is meaningful about that posture?

Daily Challenge

Take time today to ponder how changing your posture affects your prayer life. If kneeling is hard for you, think about a mindset that is akin to moving your body into a prayerful posture. Try praying on your knees to unload a burden from your shoulders.

Lift Every Voice and Sing - June 25

Today’s Readings: Psalm 46 or Psalm 102; Sirach 39:1-11; Ephesians 6:10-18; Luke 1:57-75

Today’s Reflection

In our calendar of feasts and fasts for the holy women and men of our faith, June 25 is the day on which we honor the life and legacy of James Weldon Johnson. In our Episcopal tradition, we commemorate Johnson because of his inspiring contributions to American culture as an author, educator, lawyer, politician, diplomat, and civil rights advocate.

Before he went on to serve as a consul to Venezuela and Nicaragua, professor of creative writing, or a national leader in the NAACP, Weldon served as the principal of the Stanton School, an academy for African American students in Jacksonville, Florida. While principal there, Johnson wrote a poem, “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” which his brother James Rosamund Johnson put to music so that Stanton students could sing it for an assembly in honor of Abraham Lincoln’s birthday in 1900. That song was eventually adopted as the official song of the NAACP, is considered to be the Black National Anthem, and is now often sung alongside the National Anthem at many public events.

Maybe I heard the song from time to time during Black History Month through the years, and more likely at the inner-city school, Campbell Junior High, that I attended for three years of my growing up. But I had never had the opportunity to sing it regularly and truly appreciate it until I was a student at the Seminary of the Southwest, when this anthem was included in the rotation of church music that we sang together in our daily worship at Christ Chapel. The song is truly powerful, a rousing call to “sing a song full of faith” and “a song full of hope” and a prayer acknowledging that it is God who has “brought us thus far on the way… and led us into the light.”

As we reflect on the life of James Weldon Johnson today, alongside the specific scriptures appointed for this feast day, I commend to you the verses of his poem turned anthem. May we all be inspired to lift our voices and sing, letting “our rejoicing rise high as the skies” as we pray for God’s help to “march on ‘til victory is won.”

—Becky+

Lift every voice and sing,

'Til earth and heaven ring,

Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;

Let our rejoicing rise

High as the skies,

Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.

Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,

Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;

Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,

Let us march on 'til victory is won.

Stony the road we trod,

Bitter the chastening rod,

Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;

Yet with a steady beat,

Have not our weary feet

Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?

We have come over a way that with tears has been watered,

We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,

Out from the gloomy past,

'Til now we stand at last

Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.

God of our weary years,

God of our silent tears,

Thou who has brought us thus far on the way;

Thou who has by Thy might

Led us into the light,

Keep us forever in the path, we pray.

Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,

our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;

Shadowed beneath Thy hand,

May we forever stand,

True to our God,

True to our native land.

—James Weldon Johnson

Questions for Self-Reflection

Which songs stir your faith and inspire you to keep marching on? Which hymns and songs have you most missed singing this past year?

Daily Challenge

Listen to this rendition of “Lift Every Voice and Sing” by a concert choir of college students from around the country, made during the pandemic, or read more about James Weldon Johnson’s life here.

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.