Teeball and Stumbling Blocks – June 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82
Num. 11:24-33 (34-35); Rom. 1:28-2:11; Matt. 18:1-9

Imagine this scene with me. It is Saturday morning in Alabama. June’s summer heat and humidity are showing up and shining out. Six year olds are on the teeball field, in varying levels of presence. When one is tagged out a first base, his big, big feelings get the better of him. He hurls his helmet to the ground and storms off the playing field. He cries and yells. Six teammates remain on bases and preparing to hit. With a slim crew, each player is needed. This is not the first time that Evan has left mid-game in a huff. Or stumbled on purpose in the game, only to lie on the ground and suspend play.

“This behavior will not stand,” I think to myself, exasperated with this child who is big for his age, and yet emotionally on the brink of explosion. “He must understand that this is not okay behavior,” I say to his mom, who has tried to recover her child, but he has slipped further away to sulk some more. “He cannot keep playing during the game if he does this.” My tone is authoritative. And then, Evan's mom starts crying, “I am doing the best I can.” She walks off in tears.

In moments like this, I do not feel like a very good assistant teeball coach.

As I ponder the teachings of Jesus from Matthew 18 today, I cannot help thinking about Evan and that teeball game.

Jesus warns his friends about the dangers of seeking higher status, as they are asking who is the greatest of all in heaven. Jesus counters, answering a different question; no one will enter heaven unless they become humble like little children, who lack power and live dependent upon others. Those who welcome such a vulnerable child also welcome Jesus (paraphrasing verse 5).

Well…darn. How was I welcoming Evan in that moment? As he cried. As he fumed. Hmph. I am pretty sure Jesus would have pointed out to me that this specific encounter was a space of stumbling – for all of us involved in that moment. And who knows, Jesus may have also thrown his hands up in the air while coaching little kids on a teeball diamond.

The Greek word used for “stumbling block” is skandala, meaning a snare or cause for error. As Jesus talked with his friends, he was looking at the heart of the actions at play. He was warning them against tripping up others, leading them into sinful mindsets. What I take away from the passage from Matthew today is that each of us is called to be aware of the stumbling blocks around us…those we place in front of us and those that we might kick into the paths of others. There are some days we are more able to sort through those stumbling blocks. Other times it feels as if we are upon a field of trips and falls.

So, take a sip of water. Breathe deeply and remember God created all of us in an abundance of love. Allow the compassion of Jesus to move your hands and heart. And may the hope of the Holy Spirit strengthen you in spaces of tension.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What has been a recent stumbling block for you? Who or what has helped you get back into a healthier space?

How do stumbling blocks affect your prayer life?

Daily Challenge

Contemplative prayer is a beautiful spiritual practice. Read more about Evelyn Underhill, a theologian and mystic who reminded all people they could live a life of contemplative prayer.

Sharing Spiritual Gifts - June 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Num. 9:15-23, 10:29-36; Rom. 1:1-15; Matt. 17:14-21

Recently, I drove to my hometown for the funeral of a friend’s daughter.  There were a few of us that were really close, brought together by being somewhere at the right time and the gift of music.  We would play weekly, sometimes at church services, most often in homes, offering each other that generative and creative space to nurture what we all loved to do.  

I left early Monday morning after a beautiful and exhausting Easter day to be with friends and family.  After the funeral, the few of us that were close ventured to a friend’s back porch, equipped with guitars, a mandolin, and a banjo, and sat down to play.  We were all heartbroken, and I can’t even fathom the true pain of my friend and her family, but the weight of the emotions in the room was palpable.  For a moment, I even dozed off for just a blip, with instrument in hand.  That caused some much-needed laughter amongst the group.

As we sat, as we cried, as we created, we could all strongly feel the presence of God in our midst, the real gift of hospitality and friendship. Personally, I felt the true gift of love and friendship at that moment, possibly in a more tangible way than ever before. 

Many of us have friendships that have been shaped by extraordinary experiences, whether a wild adventure, a bizarre mishap, an odd event, or even a tragedy.  And how we reflect and nurture those memories with each other define the relationships.  I am struck by Paul’s rather beautiful encouragement at the beginning of his letter to the Romans.  Paul says in verses 11 and 12, “For I am longing to see you so that I may share with you some spiritual gift to strengthen you— or rather so that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine.”  Paul sees friendship as the potential to share spiritual gifts and strengthen one another.  What an incredible way to view our relationships!

What if you and I viewed every relationship in the same way.  Our going over to dinner wouldn’t just be a chance to laugh and share the latest drama of the neighborhood, but an opportunity to breathe life and love into the very people we interact with on a day-to-day basis.  To see our friendships as spiritual opportunities for strength and encouragement. 

Likely, we catch glimpses of this when our lives hit crisis moments.  Helping parents age, or the loss of a loved one, but Paul has me convinced that every encounter could be this opportunity for life and joy and to share spiritual gifts with each other.  We just have to see the potential in each encounter.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Do you have friendships that strengthen your faith?  Do you have friendships where that is missing?  What is the difference and how could you make a change?

Daily Challenge: Spend some time considering your spiritual gifts, or what gifts are shared in your relationship.  Be more intentional today in reflecting on how you share those gifts in your relationships. 

Carrying Each Other’s Luggage - June 10

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23 (24-30) 31-38;  PM Psalm 73; Eccles. 11:9-12:14;  Gal. 5:25-6:10;  Matt. 16:21-28  

Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. … So let us not grow weary in doing what is right, for we will reap at harvest time, if we do not give up. So then, whenever we have an opportunity, let us work for the good of all, and especially for those of the family of faith. Galatians 6: 2, 9-10 

As I write this reflection for Friday, it is Tuesday morning. I am in Florida, sitting on the sun porch at my parents’ house, looking out at the green grass, brilliant blue sky, palm trees, and geese swimming placidly across a small pond. It’s a peaceful spot, but it’s not where I expected to be today. I was supposed to be fresh off the plane in London, settling in to my accommodations and adjusting to the time difference. I thought my view at this time today would be of a park and neighborhood scenes in Islington, perhaps enjoying a run or walk in the much more refreshing June weather there.  

But Florida weather being what it is in June, many flights set to depart on Monday afternoon were delayed due to lightning in the Orlando area and thunderstorms on the route between there and Boston, where I was to connect to my transatlantic flight. About 10 hours of my Monday were spent driving to Orlando International, checking in, awaiting boarding, sitting a long while on the tarmac hoping we’d be cleared for takeoff, exiting the plane and spending a long time on the phone with someone rebooking me on a new flight on Tuesday, getting back to the offsite parking lot, rescheduling my parking privileges there, and finally making my way back to stay another night at my parents’ house, over an hour’s drive away, and pondering if I will be reunited with my checked bag that has made it to Heathrow well ahead of me. Fun times. 

While Monday did feel like a colossal waste of a day on many levels, I do feel like there were some redeeming moments and interactions in the day. The pleasant wait staff in the wine bar where I had a late lunch before all the complications began to unfold. The calm presence of the flight crew who managed to keep a plane full of passengers trapped on the tarmac in an overall peaceful state of coexistence. The understanding words and reassuring looks of fellow travelers who, like me, now needed to rearrange their international travel plans. The helpful, patient person on the phone who booked me onto a new and better nonstop flight for the next day. And especially the lovely assistant manager at the offsite parking facility who went above and beyond to not only rebook my parking reservation for different dates, but did so with such a friendly and warm spirit that, though it was approaching my bedtime, I could remain hopeful and happy about my time abroad—not to mention about my fellow human beings.  

Each of these interactions with my fellow human beings illustrates well what we read in Paul’s letter to the Galatians today—that we are to “bear one another’s burdens” and “whenever we have the opportunity… work for the good of all.” Each kindness that we can share, be it in word or deed, can make all the difference in someone’s day, and maybe even the trajectory of their whole life, in ways beyond what we may ever fully know. 

Becky+ 

Questions for Reflection 

When have you experienced someone carrying a burden for you? When have you had the chance to carry a burden for someone else? What moments stand out in your memory as ones in which you felt your faith in God strengthened by how you were treated by your fellow human beings? 

Daily Challenge 

English priest and poet John Donne once gave a sermon in which he reflected that “no man is an island unto himself.” You can read this well known line in its full context here.  

Counter Wisdom - June 6

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Eccles. 7:1-14; Gal. 4:12-20; Matt. 15:21-28

Life is not easy.  We all know this individually, but it does help to be reminded from time to time.  I’m surprised at the allure of tricks or hacks that are designed to make life simpler and yet rarely do we get at the root of own issues. As a pastor, it is amazing to me how together most people at church try to present their lives.  Many clergy wonder if people disappear when life begins to fall apart. Or maybe that is preciously when the Church can be the Church, but it is too uncomfortable for the uncovering of our fragile human lives. The pressure of not having it together like the person on the next pew appears too much. 

I suspect that we too anticipate the Bible to be full of practice wisdom such as to be kind, forgive, give to charity, don’t lie, cheat or steal.  This wisdom is simplistic and commonsense and mostly true.  I suspect life is better when we follow this conventional wisdom, but there are limitations to this wisdom.  What happens when we are not kind, struggle to forgive, lie or cheat, or God-forbid, worse? If this is the only wisdom of the church, we might feel judged, even in a place that offers grace and forgiveness as the ultimate ethic, the standards of the virtuous life can seem too much. 

This is why the counter wisdom of Ecclesiastes can be such good news.  “Sorrow is better than laughter (v.3), it is better to go to the house of mourning (v.2), it is better to hear the rebuke of the wise (v.5), better is the end of a thing than its beginning (v.8) are all offerings of advice that we do not expect to hear and yet offer a balance to conventional common-sense wisdom of the world.  Our pericope is wrapped up “On the day of prosperity be joyful, and on the day of adversity consider; God has made the one as well as the other, so that mortals may not find out anything that will come after them (v.14).” What good news to be reminded that God is a part of it all!

The goal of a faithful life isn’t a prosperous career, joy, happiness, or the attainment of status.  The goal of a faithful life is the trust and confidence to see God in all things, in all places, and at all times. This is even more true when things don’t go our way.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What unconventional wisdom have you discovered in your life? 

Daily Challenge:  Read slowly the passage from Ecclesiastes.  Consider what is most challenging and what is helpful.  If interested, consider spending time in the whole book.  You can begin here.

Clothed with Christ - June 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; Ezek. 36:22-27; Eph. 6:10-24; Matt. 9:18-26

Today’s Reflection

When I was 19, just finishing my sophomore year at university and looking for a summer job, my friend Nicole helped me to get a job as a camp counselor a few hours away, just outside of Tampa. Now while there were some things that I liked about being at camp, overall being a counselor was pretty far out of my comfort zone. I wasn’t the fun, joking around, outdoorsy counselor—I was just the one who was good at leading the Bible studies and making the crafts and the snacks. But a few weeks into the eight weeks of camp, a new person entered the mix. Alison was a bit older than us college students (in her 30s or 40s) and had come all the way from St. Andrew’s, Scotland, to visit friends in Florida—but also to volunteer for a month at our camp. Alison filled in as an extra person with arts and crafts and wherever else she was needed. To me, it kind of felt like God had sent her to be my mentor and encourager as I fumbled my way through being a counselor that summer.

At the end of her month at the camp, Alison and I made plans that I would visit her sometime that fall when I’d be studying abroad in England. And as we parted ways, I still remember when she wrote down and then prayed for me one of her favourite prayers, a prayer that she called a hedge of protection. That prayer was the very passage we read today from Ephesians 6 about putting on the full armor of God. Alison explained to me that she liked to imagine that she was really putting on each piece of the armor—and would even sometimes go through motions as if she were buckling a belt or putting on a helmet and so on to make this prayer for spiritual protection feel more tangible, and more real:

Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.    

When I think back now on that year, when I was just 19 years old, I see now how I was taking some risks, trying out new things as I tried to figure out what to do next in life. After camp, I went home for a few weeks to prepare for an even bigger, riskier adventure, which is that I was leaving the country for the very first time—and that I’d be gone for three and a half months, fully immersing myself in a different education system and a whole different way of life in Nottingham. I did take the train up to Scotland for a long weekend that November—and once again, I was refreshed by Alison’s gift of hospitality and encouragement. I was encouraged by her faith in a God who wants to cover each one of us with a hedge of protection—a God whose attributes we can clothe ourselves in as we wear the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the helmet of salvation, and the shoes that allow us to deliver the gospel of peace.

In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul writes of “putting on the armor of God.” And then, in his letter to the Galatians, Paul says that, “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself with Christ.” Lauren Winner, an Episcopal priest and professor at Duke Divinity School, wrote a whole book titled Wearing God, which is about the metaphors woven throughout the Bible—metaphors that express our relationship with God in ways that we can see and hear and feel in our daily life. Winner digs deep into the implications of clothing ourselves with Christ, talking about our level of closeness with a God who wants to clothe us—clinging to us, right up against our skin, taking on our shape and our size, and even all our bumps and curves and rough edges.

And being clothed with Christ also carries connotations of being protected in Christ. While Paul talks of God as being like armor, Winner talks about God as being like a soft, cozy sweater. We put on a sweater to keep us warm, or a raincoat to keep us dry. Being clothed with Christ, or putting on the full armor of God, means that we are both protected by and close to God. God can be as close to us and as comforting to us as our favorite hoodie or sweater. Not only that, but being clothed with Christ, and putting on the armor of all the attributes of God, impacts who we understand ourselves to be as well as who others experience us to be. When we are putting on Christ, we are going to make choices that move us more and more in the direction of wanting to share with others this comforting, protective clothing of Christ.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

What spiritual practices do you have (or could you imagine having) that help you sense that you are wearing Christ or putting on the “armor of God”?

Daily Challenge

Today’s reflection is an excerpt from my sermon, “Clothing Ourselves with Christ,” given August 22, 2021, which you can listen to in full here.

"Why don't you just forgive him?" - June 1

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4 (5-19) 20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144
Isa. 4:2-6; Eph. 4:1-16; Matt. 8:28-34

“Why don’t you just forgive him?”

It is a tender question asked of a parent by a child. A child who does not know that sometimes there are rifts and wrinkles in and among families that run deep. A child who is not yet aware that resentment can trickle down through generations. A child who only knows of what is taught at home and in church about God’s love and repentance and forgiveness. And still, this child knows intuitively that when tension culminates into a nest of infection, the very solution presents itself: let out the pain and discomfort.

Lysing the wounds that plague us does indeed let out the pain. It can be a bit messy. It can begin a journey of healing. It also leaves us vulnerable in the moment. What happens next is crucial to protect ourselves from further illness, as we put on salve and bandage the affected areas.

Maybe we are skilled at the first part – the initial words of release. Or we wait until other parts of life are also affected. Maybe it is the longer space for healing and recovery that is a little spongy. It takes more time and patience and investment than we really know or understand. Sometimes it works. Other times, it might lead to further rupture or pain. Mulling over the trajectory from beginning to end, perhaps awe and humility wash over us as we see how such a small thorn pierces the skin and brings swelling and disruption.

In the reading from Matthew 8 today, Jesus has just stilled the winds upon the water. On the other side of the lake, two fierce, afflicted people – said to be possessed by demons – confront Jesus. They demand, “What have you to do with us, Son of God? Have you come here to torment us before the time?” Before Jesus can say anything else to them, they continue, “If you cast us out, send us into the herd of swine.” The solution is presented before Jesus. It is obvious. This is the way the tension will be released. Jesus says, “Go!” and the demon spirits fill the herd of pigs and race to their death in the deeps of the water.

The story does not end there. The people learn of what Jesus has done. And they come to see him. Will they thank him for removing the spirits that ailed those people who lingered around the tombs? Or they want to meet this healer and teacher, asking for their own healing? Nope. They implore him to leave their neighborhood. He cannot stay any longer. The cost is too high. The healing is too hard. That one change – expunging the evil nestling in the minds and souls of two – leads to other changes that must occur…no longer tending the pigs that are not “clean” sources of food. Not tolerating the other sins that linger in their midst. One healing reveals even more vulnerability. And it is not easy or comfortable to move to a space of deep, resounding reconciliation.

And yet, what are you and I called to do today? What spaces of healing and reconciliation are just waiting for us? God is equipping and preparing us. We have the model of Jesus to follow. We have the courage of the Holy Spirit dwelling among us. Together, let us take the first steps.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Where could you really use forgiveness right now? Who in your life is hard to forgive?

What would it take to get to that point?

Daily Challenge 

Take a listen to this audio clip of "Simple Gifts" by Yo-Yo Ma and Alison Krauss. Let it take you into a space of God's love and delight, so that you may be open to the gifts around you today.

'By grace you have been saved' - May 27

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 85, 86; PM Psalm 91, 92; 1 Sam. 2:1-10; Eph. 2:1-10; Matt. 7:22-27

Today’s Reflection

Earlier this week, I decided to go look at a bookshelf that I have rarely looked at since I moved all my belongings into my office at Saint Stephen’s two years ago. The shelf in question is filled with books of poetry—many of them souvenirs of my first two degrees, which focused on literary criticism. I decided to bring a few home with me, to re-engage with this aspect of my imagination and intellect that I have felt distant from in recent years. Something about being in a new home and a new phase in life has my heart and mind open again to the beauty of poetry, and the different lens on life it offers us. So, I brought home an eclectic mix of William Blake, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and James Fenton.

Fenton’s poetry collection is called Out of Danger (Farrar Strauss Giroux, 1994). This collection of poems was once quite dear to me, given by someone who held a special place in my life at the time (my now former spouse). It felt a little strange to take that book off the shelf again, but it seemed an important step toward reclaiming poetry for myself in this new chapter in life.

One of my favorite poems in the collection, when I first read it in 1997 and still today, is a poem called “The Ideal.” Given all the ways life has unfolded since then, it seems drenched in significance. Reading back over this poem again this evening, I am all the more aware of the truth Fenton so well captured in these three stanzas:

This is where I came from.

I passed this way.

This should not be shameful

Or hard to say.

A self is a self.

It is not a screen.

A person should respect

What he has been.

This is my past

Which I shall not discard.

This is the ideal.

This is hard.

The passage we read today from Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians connects in my mind with the sentiment of Fenton’s poem. Paul is reassuring his friends that God has saved them through his kindness and grace:

All of us once lived among them in the passions of our flesh, following the desires of flesh and senses, and we were by nature children of wrath, like everyone else. But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ*—by grace you have been saved (Ephesians 2: 3-6).

In these lines, Paul is acknowledging how we all have a past—we all can look back and see where we made some mistakes “like everyone else.” But no matter what we have done (or left undone, as we say in the Confession), God sees each mistake or regret as an occasion to “show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards us in Christ Jesus.”

In another poem, “The Mistake,” Fenton articulates how we can look back at our choices and see them ever so much more clearly in retrospect:

With the mistake your life goes in reverse.

Now you can see what you did

Wrong yesterday and wrong the day before

And each mistake leads to something worse

And every nuance of your hypocrisy

Towards yourself, and every excuse

Stands solidly on the perspective lines

And there is perfect visibility.

I, for one, can easily look back at any number of points in my life and see so clearly how if I had made a different choice at point A, B, or C, I could have avoided several complicated and unfortunate situations. It can be easy, when caught in this regretful frame of mind, to be hard on oneself for not knowing better or not choosing better at the time.

But here is where our faith in Jesus makes all the difference. No matter what regrets we may have, no matter what choices we wish we could undo, what moments we wish we could re-live differently, God in his unending kindness offers us unending grace through Christ Jesus. We are loved by a God who does not expect perfection from us. Rather, we are loved eternally and unconditionally by a God who loves us, imperfections, ill-informed choices, and all:

For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. –Ephesians 2: 8-10

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

What choices in life do you look back on with regret? Have you ever prayed to God to help you let go of your regrets and embrace the gifts of grace and forgiveness? Do you find it easier to forgive others and understand their mistakes than to forgive and understand your own?

Daily Challenge

Write a letter to yourself in which you allow yourself to put some great regret into words—and then allow yourself to put forgiveness into words. Loving yourself requires not only forgiving yourself but accepting without qualification the forgiveness God offers you.

Uvalde - May 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82
Lev. 26:27-42; Eph. 1:1-10; Matt. 22:41-46

Yesterday, there was a shooting at an elementary school in Uvalde, Texas. The news is still fresh. More is being released. Each detail brings the picture of horror into more focus, and yet the anguish continues. Nineteen kids. Fourth graders. A fourth-grade teacher. Others.

Having empathy means that we open ourselves to understand and share the feelings of another. Adopting a posture of empathy right now is overwhelming. The waves of sorrow are not lapping at our feet but threaten to crash over our heads. Jesus tells his friends as he prepares them for his departure, "I will not leave you comfortless [or orphaned]; I am coming to you." (John 14:18) We can take those words of Jesus, and the ones that follow, with us today: "...know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you." Jesus the Healer is in the midst of the families grieving today. He is binding them up. In the long goodbye to the disciples in John 14 and beyond, Jesus tells his friends, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid." (v. 27)

Last night, there were responses from many across the Episcopal Church. The Presiding Bishop Michael Curry led a time of prayer. I commend this video to you.

The Rt. Rev. David Reed, Bishop of the Diocese of West Texas, that includes the people of Uvalde in their geographic region, issued a request for prayer. Bishop Reed shared this prayer at the conclusion of the message:

O God our Father, whose beloved Son took children into his arms and blessed them: Give us grace to entrust your beloved children of Uvalde to your everlasting care and love, and bring them fully into your heavenly kingdom. Pour out your grace and loving-kindness on all who grieve; surround them with your love; and restore their trust in your goodness. We lift up to you our weary, wounded souls and ask you to send your Holy Spirit to take away the anger and violence that infects our hearts, and make us instruments of your peace and children of the light. In the Name of Christ who is our hope, we pray. Amen.

We find ourselves in a space of great discomfort. Croatian theologian and professor of theology at Yale Divinity School wrote this: "There is something deeply hypocritical about praying for a problem you are unwilling to resolve." What are you and I to do about all of this?

For right now, I leave this reflection upon your email doorstep. We get to take the next steps as each of us feel so called to do: grieve as rain pours down from the heavens; hug our loved ones tightly; equip our kids and young people with resources to process hard things; lend our hands to support those in need; and, lift our voices as faithful people to bring about change in this world, with God's help and healing grace.

Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

In the face of tragedy, how do you respond?

What are the losses you grieve today?

Daily Challenge

Sit in prayer for the people in Uvalde, Texas, and those at Robb Elementary School. Pray for teachers and students in your neighborhood. Listen for where God is calling you to respond in your community.

Remember to Breathe - May 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Lev. 25:35-55; Col. 1:9-14; Matt. 13:1-16

Last week, I had the opportunity to participate in one of my favorite events of the year, the Saint Stephen’s Preschool graduation.  Maybe it is the memories of my own daughter standing there with a big grin in front of a nave of grandparents and parents and special friends marking the transition from one chapter to another. The children march into our nave to Pomp and Circumstance, sing some of Ms. Whitney’s famous Bible songs, then teach us about Alabama, and they beam with pride as parents clap and cheer supporting all that they have learned over the course of three years. 

It is that season in life, where there are so many events celebrating and marking transitions.  There are graduations galore at preschools, elementary schools, high schools, colleges, and seminaries.  Performances and choir ensembles are happening with people of every grade.  All of these events have a few things in common: they draw together a wide range of supporters and they require the honoree to stand in front of others.  

There is a nervousness that comes from being in front of others.  Some of the best advice is simply, “don’t forget to breathe.”  Sounds overly simplistic, but these moments when we are called to stand before others can be stressful and daunting.  I’ve seen at least one groom faint and more children and youth than I can remember.  But these events always become visible reminders of just how large a community is and the support that is pouring in beyond family.  One of my son’s classmate’s parents could not attend the awards ceremony for their child, but all of the parents there clapped and applauded when he received his reward, a tangible reminder of a much larger community than his family. 

The passage this morning from Colossians is an encouraging reminder that the community of Colossae has been continuously prayed for by Paul and Timothy, ‘without ceasing’ in their words.  It reminds me of the real power of the body of Christ.  We pray by name every Sunday for our partner churches in Thomasique, Haiti and Fairfield, Alabama.  And maybe more important to those reading, those communities pray for you.  There are numerous prayer lists that float among our pastoral care teams, some that are private and others that are public. And this summer, the Rev. Katherine Harper will launch a campaign to pray for everyone by name in our congregation and send a card sharing when that happened. There are people praying for you and for me and for the world, so much so that I would wager that prayer is happening without ceasing. 

In the words of Paul and Timothy (or who wrote in their name), may that “lead to lives worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, as you bear fruit in every good work and as you grow in the knowledge of God.”  Maybe more important, may you know that you are not alone in this journey and that a great cloud of witnesses is behind you in your journey of life and faith.  Remember to breathe, because there are lost more people cheering you on than you might imagine.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection:  How do you pray?  Are you aware of the prayers of others?  How does that support or encourage you?  How could your prayer life be different?

Daily Challenge:  Download the prayer list from last week and pray for the names on the list and the people who have had birthdays this past week.  

A Place of Acceptance - May 20

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 106:1-18; PM Psalm 106:19-48; Lev. 23:1-22; 2 Thess. 2:1-17; Matt. 7:1-12

Today’s Reflection

‘Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for bread, will give a stone? Or if the child asks for a fish, will give a snake? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him! ‘In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets. –Matthew 7: 7-12

These words of Jesus, that we read today in Matthew 7, are words of reassurance. God provides for us (ask and it will be given you). God guides us (search and you will find). God welcomes us (knock and the door will be opened). And not only that, but God also considers our specific needs, as a parent gives sustenance and other good gifts to their children, so too does God delight in providing for us, guiding us, and welcoming us as his dear ones.

Yesterday, along with a couple of others from our Saint Stephen’s staff, I had the opportunity to tour the Magic City Acceptance Academy. This is a free, public charter school for sixth through twelfth grade students that is designed to provide a safe and supportive learning environment for students who have not felt safe or supported in other schools—whether due to their sexual orientation, gender identity, racial or ethnic identity, learning differences, or some combination of these and other aspects of who they are. As we were guided through the school by Karen Musgrove, a Saint Stephen’s parishioner who is the executive director of Birmingham AIDS Outreach, the parent organization that founded and operates the school, we saw evidence around every corner of the loving care that is put into creating a safe, supportive space. We saw a place where students can attempt to set aside their fears and insecurities so that they may learn and grow into their full potential and begin to dream of what their futures may hold.

Classrooms have been designed to meet the needs of students with a variety of learning styles and special education needs. Teachers choose to work there because they believe in the mission of the school and perhaps, they, too, have faced bullying and opposition in previous workplaces or phases in their lives. Hallways are painted with bright colors and classrooms filled with colorful desks and chairs. Signs with uplifting messages, reminding students they are valued just as they are, are found along every stretch of hallway. Several local churches painted encouraging banners and posted, signed by their clergy and parishioners, and these are posted in common areas like the media center and the cafeteria. It was especially heartening, in the light of recent negative public discourse about the school, to see how people from around the United States (Oregon, North Dakota, New York, Florida, and more) and around the world (Prague, Dublin, London, and beyond) have sent affirming messages to the school, which have been printed out on colorful paper an added to the other positive messages posted around the campus.

So, when I read Jesus’ words in Matthew 7 today, about how God provides, guides, and welcomes us as loving parents give good gifts to their children, my mind went back to what I saw, heard, and felt as I walked around MCAA yesterday afternoon. God’s love is being freely given to each one of God’s children who comes to school there each day knowing that they will not be bullied or cast out. God’s love is being freely given to each one of God’s children who can walk into school with a mind that is less burdened by fear and anxiety and more able to focus on growing and developing into the people God has created each one of them to be. Thanks be to God.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Looking back on your life so far, what has been a place of refuge and acceptance for you? Who has God brought into your life at exactly the right moment, be they times of insecurity or challenge, who showed you what it looks like and feels like to be accepted and loved unconditionally? How have you shown that kind of acceptance and love to others when they needed it most?

Daily Challenge

You can read more about Magic City Acceptance Academy in this May 8 article in The New York Times or through their school website.

Saying goodbye - May 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96, Lev. 19:1-18; 1 Thess. 5:12-28; Matt. 6:19-24

Saying goodbye. How do you do it? Is it a quick hug and “See you later!”? Or is it a three-hour process of visiting, giving parting words, taking a picture together, and then falling back into seven more stories of shared times and fond memories?

Sam and I took a long weekend and went to a friend’s wedding in California. As it was a destination event, there were pre-pre-wedding gatherings, pre-wedding gatherings, a golf outing, a hike, a pool party…and all that before the wedding itself! Those times for meeting new people and catching up with old friends created this web of relationship and care. Before we knew it, Sunday arrived and it was time to say goodbye. Those words of safe travel and faring well with God’s blessing. We do not know when we will all meet again – and it is unlikely to compare with the grandeur of the wedding setting. Nevertheless, this morning I am filled with the fondness and feeling that swirled in those hugs and hopefulness for all that is ahead.

As such, the closing words of the first letter to the people of Thessalonica presented in our lectionary today hit me with a different emotional tone. What are the last words left with those people? The messages reiterated include treating others with respect, being at peace and harmony, working hard, praying constantly, and giving thanks at all times. And then this: do not quench the Spirit. Oh wow – what openness and mystery lay behind these words! While the reminders to the Thessalonians are about how to conduct themselves with one another and in life, the letter from Paul reminds them to be light enough to be moved by the Holy Spirit…to be inspired by the hopefulness that comes with that Blessed Wind.

I leave you with a blessing that wraps up the message: “May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept whole, healthy, and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

Think about saying goodbye. What words of farewell do you use? When do you look forward to saying goodbye? What partings do you dread? How do you help others around you say goodbye?

Daily Challenge

There are some departures we can plan for, and others are a surprise. Have you planned for end of life details? How would you like for the church and your loved ones to celebrate and say goodbye? Look at the funeral resources at Saint Stephen's or reach out to one of the clergy to begin this conversation.

Do Something (and let it shape you) - May 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Lev. 16:1-19; 1 Thess. 4:13-18; Matt. 6:1-6,16-18

One of the interesting and more unsettling elements of an election season is the extreme positions of candidates.  Most people I know, and maybe this is a product of being around a majority of Episcopalians most of the time, find the extreme ends of both sides of the spectrum to be rather alarming.  One of the observations I have found to be true, especially in Alabama, is the idea that a candidate must say something in order to get elected, even if that person won’t actually follow through.  Candidates that might be relatively moderate will say things in campaign ads that seem more extreme, even if they quietly do not hold that exact position.  This points to a truth that is hard to admit: culturally we have reached a point where our words sometimes mean more than our actions.  This is cause for concern. 

One of the theories or principles of Christian Ethics and Moral Theology centers on our understanding of virtues.  Virtues are values such as charity, hope, compassion, and truthfulness.  We develop these virtues by our practice of such values.  If one wants to become more compassionate, they practice compassion until their lives look (and are) compassionate.  So when we don’t tell the truth, it shapes our understanding of ourselves and others to not be truthful people.  It’s hard to regain that confidence because our actions have other purposes than the values they convey underneath about who we are as people.  To be moral and faithful people is to align our actions with the values we hold true and then let those values shape our lives.   

As I read today’s passage, some of the same principles are at play.  Jesus is warning people about practicing their piety in public.  The reward they seek is the affirmation of the community and not actually becoming more pious people.  Whereas going into one’s room, shutting the door, and praying will actually make you a more faithful person. 

In pastoral counseling, I often am asked questions about how to handle situations, and how to be a different person either in relation to a child, parent, or spouse.  The answer is never a verbal answer to the world, but instead a simple action.  If one wants to be more forgiving, practice forgiveness.  If one wants to put less pressure on their child, then put less pressure on their child.  Words are meaningless, but actions will actually change us, especially in the long view. 

We are not our mistakes or imperfections or worst decisions.  We are children of God willing to be molded into who God has called us to be.  So do something that aligns with what you believe and let that action shape who you are and who you are becoming.  God isn’t finished with any of us quite yet!

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What values or virtues are most important to you?  How do you rank them?  When have you taken action that runs against your held virtues and values?

Daily Challenge: Do one thing today that you wouldn’t normally do for the purpose of letting that shape who you want to become. 

Pen Friends - May 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Exod. 34:18-35; 1 Thess. 3:1-13; Matt. 5:27-37

Today’s Reflection

Once upon a time, I was a prolific letter writer. My letter writing began when I was in elementary school, and my first correspondence was with my cousin Leslie, who lived in Kentucky. She was less than a year younger than me and we always treasured the week or two we would spend together each summer when my family would drive up from Florida to spend time with my mother’s parents at their farm in Smiths Grove. Throughout elementary and junior high school, we would write back and forth about all manner of things, from making plans for the summer to describing what boy we liked at the moment.

I also was a Girl Scout for seven years, and one of the things we did through scouts was to sign up to have “pen pals.” I had two: Sara and Catherine, both in England. I corresponded the longest with Catherine, who lived in Farnham, a town in Surrey, which is southwest of London. One summer, Catherine’s family came to Florida to visit Disney and the beaches, and we had them over to our house. Later, after we were in college, we still wrote occasionally, and saw each other again once when she was in the States. Looking back, I see how I gained perspective by exchanging all those letters over the years with my cousin in Kentucky and with these friends my age who lived across the Atlantic from me.

I continued writing letters as a college student in the 1990s, before everyone had email and well before the invention of smartphones and texting. Between terms, I corresponded with many of my close friends from college—we’d share what was going on with our summer jobs and social lives and all the things that college students probably just boil down into very succinct texts or share about through posting pictures on Instagram instead of writing it in words.

So, it’s not surprising that I’ve always been drawn to Paul’s letters. That Paul is writing to specific people, whom he cared about and loved—and who cared and loved for him—gives real heart and substance to these letters in ways that make these books of the Bible come alive for me as a reader. From his heartfelt greetings to his prayerful final exhortations, one can sense the real bond of friendship and partnership Paul shared with his friends throughout the Mediterranean region, from Ephesus and Galatia, to Corinth and Rome, to Philippi and Thessaloniki.

In today’s passage from 1 Thessalonians 3, Paul tells of how he and some others decided they needed to stay in Athens, but have sent their dear companion Timothy to be with their friends in Thessaloniki and to send word back about they were doing: “For this reason, when I could bear it no longer, I sent to find out about your faith; I was afraid that somehow the tempter had tempted you and that our labour had been in vain. But Timothy has just now come to us from you, and has brought us the good news of your faith and love. He has told us also that you always remember us kindly and long to see us—just as we long to see you” (1 Thess. 3: 5-6).

Timothy came back to Paul and their companions in Athens bearing good news of how their friends and fellow believers in Thessaloniki were doing in their faith. Though they had been left on their own, without the leadership of Paul or others in his group of early church leaders, they had the faith and love and other gifts needed to begin to lead their church on their own—which was a great relief to Paul. All the time and energy they had put into encouraging the believers in Thessaloniki had been fruitful, and hearing word of this warmed Paul’s heart even as he was going through difficult times in Athens: “during all our distress and persecution we have been encouraged about you through your faith. For we now live, if you continue to stand firm in the Lord. How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you?” (1 Thess. 3: 7-9).

Finally, Paul’s letters are also filled with heartfelt prayers for his friends far away, and this letter to the Thessalonians is no exception. May we be so bold as to pray for one another, for our friends both near and far, as Paul prayed for these friends of his:

Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus direct our way to you. And may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you. And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints. (I Thess 3: 11-13).

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Who have you kept in touch with over the years, whether by letters, calls, emails, or texts, who has been a partner and encourager in your faith in Christ? What ways of staying connected with those who are not present with you physically, whether across town or across thousands of miles, resonate best with who you are and how you communicate?

Daily Challenge

In your prayer time today, ask God to bring someone to mind who would be encouraged to hear from you. Make time to reach out to that person to check on how they are doing and let them know they are on your mind and in your heart this day.

God, Moses, and the Tent of Meeting – May 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53], Exod. 33:1-23; 1 Thess. 2:1-12; Matt. 5:17-20

Moses and the Israelites are away from home for a long time. They are captives in Egypt and then they are set free from the grasp of Pharaoh. The trials are not yet complete. The wanderers are not lost in the big picture, for they are heading to the land sworn to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Close-up, though, Moses is struggling. He goes to the tent of meeting to have a conference with God, “the LORD used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. Then he would return to the camp”. Moses enters the tent, frustrated. God has said, “Bring up this people” and Moses is not sure who is going with him. God has said, “I know you by name and you have found favor in my sight.” Moses hopes for a bit more tangible support, for if they are favored by God, they really need God to be moving along with them in their journey – and to be apparent to them. Moses gets bold, “Show me your glory, I pray.” God answers in the affirmative, promising divine goodness to pass before Moses, with grace and mercy upon the people. God also says this, “There is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock; and while my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen.”

The Lord hears Moses – the frustration, the tension. God answers Moses’ prayer in their one-on-one tent meeting. God also promises protection – even from the divine brilliance that emanates from God.

What a powerful image to welcome us where we are today. God meets us where we are. God hears our hearts’ yearning. And when we approach the Lord with our humble and honest pleas, God answers in faithfulness and protection.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection 

If you were to have a tent meeting with God this week, what would you talk about?

What stories have you heard of people feeling God’s protection in a hard time? Where have you seen God protecting or shielding you? What might that divine care feel like?

Daily Challenge

Re-read Chapter 32 of Exodus. Hold in your heart that you are one of the people God is bringing along into the world. Then, get a piece of paper and write out what you would talk with God about in that tent of meeting. Pour out the joys, concerns, and truths of where you are right now. When you are finished, circle the action words. Sit in prayer for five minutes, listening and being. And give thanks for a one-on-one with God.

Golden Calves

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Exod. 32:1-20; Col 3:18-4:6(7-18); Matt. 5:1-10

Moses has gone up the mountain to receive instruction from God, and God’s people are down below eager for something to happen.  Moses has been up there a little too long, and the people become anxious and fanatic, and so they gather around Aaron begging for a new god.  “Come, make gods for us, who shall go before us” and Aaron takes a bunch of gold and fashions a golden calf. 

On Tuesdays, I have been discussing with others a book by David Zahl called Seculosity:  How Career, Parenting, Technology, Food, Politics, and Romance became our New Religion and What to do About It. Zahl’s thesis is as people haven’t just left church, they have replaced religion with their own form of religion.  Essentially, we have crafted our own golden calves and they are called a career, or romance, or parenting. 

In the introduction, Zahl writes that “you’ll hear about people scrambling to be successful enough, happy enough, thin enough, wealthy enough, influential enough, desired enough, charitable enough, woke enough, good enough.  We believe instinctively that, were we to reach some benchmark in our minds, then value, vindication, and love would be ours – that if we got enough, we would be enough.”  If we can find the perfect partner or soul mate (he rightly suggests that there is not one), or the perfect promotion, or the child who gets into the perfect school and has a good enough career, then we will be justified in our existence. 

Zahl’s writing is captivating, and I am thoroughly enjoying his book.  Although his thesis does sound like what most of us already know that we are doing. We work too hard to prove something to ourselves, or we put our trust in finding the perfect partner, or we try to make everything work out for our children and the pressure only builds.  We have fashioned a bunch of golden calves to justify our existence when all we really need to know is God’s unconditional love and grace that extends beyond our imperfections.  

Maybe we even try to be perfect in our church lives by serving on the vestry, being the perfect usher or acolyte, and learning Scripture and theology the right way!  Is it possible our own church identity could be a golden calf too?

I’ve got a news flash for you.  I am pretty darn imperfect and so are you and we are never going to be enough to the golden calves we have created.  But God said we were indeed very good when we were created and God loved us so much to come and be with us, and dwell with us, and take on the enormity of pain and suffering with us.  That sounds like enough. 

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What are the idols that you worship?  How does your career or identity affect your spiritual health?

Daily Challenge:  Counselors can be a wonderful reflective tool to help create balance and not place too much faith in the wrong idols.  Check to find out if your health insurance covers a wellness mental health visit.

You Cannot Do it Alone - May 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15; Exod. 18:13-27; 1 Pet. 5:1-14; Matt. (1:1-17),3:1-6

Can we bring you dinner?  This is often what a church community or a friendship offers when we don’t know what else to do, and paradoxically, what many others have offered in my own life, when things have been busy and full or challenging.  Sometimes the answer is a resounding yes, that would be lovely, and more often than not, there is this smidgen of guilt.  “No, I couldn’t possibly put someone else out or inconvenience you.” 

Today’s first lesson is a classic commentary on leadership. Moses has been handling the affairs of his entire community, so much so that his father-in-law is concerned.  “What you are doing is not good” says his father-in-law.  He is concerned about burnout, about the weight that Moses has placed on himself and the lack of empowering others. “You will surely wear yourself out, both you and these people with you.” My favorite casual reminder from Moses’ father-in-law is “You cannot do it alone.”  Maybe the single most important piece of wisdom on leadership in the entire Bible. A thought worth considering this morning: “What is the relationship between ego and burnout?”    

It's easy to make this comparison to the church, to clergy and vestry leaders who have taken responsibility for programs, ministries, and church communities, and embody the heaviness of their responsibilities.  Or maybe it is easy to see the parallels in the family trying to grow a business while raising children involved in competitive sports, or the father trying to care for his aging mother, or the teacher who has all the demands from her students and the school coming hurling full speed at the end of a school year.  Or a person preparing to move from the home they have lived into an apartment closer to grandchildren who can help with care.  “You cannot do it alone.” 

Exodus offers practical wisdom.  I often find it far too easy to offer up the simple answer of God’s presence when things get tough.  When someone has a challenging order ahead, the casual reminder that God is with us becomes the simple answer.  But Exodus offers us something different.  Don’t just know that God is with you, actually allow others to make the less important decisions for you, so you can focus on what is most important.

If someone has offered dinner, it's okay to say yes. Can’t eat it all?  That’s ok too.   Make dinner a decision you don’t have to worry about.  What else can you let go of too?  Who else is willing and able to make decisions for you?  A little empowerment goes a long way.

John+  

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Consider the questions in the reflection such as what is the relationship between ego and burnout?  Where in your life do you feel exhaustion and where do you find renewal?  Is decision-making a part of that?  Who in your life can help?

Daily Challenge: Empower someone in your life, to make a decision for you that lessens your own burdens. 

Manna on the Curb - April 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 20, 21:1-7(8-14); PM Psalm 110:1-5(6-7), 116, 117
Exod. 17:1-16; 1 Pet. 4:7-19; John 16:16-33

Today’s Reflection

Over the past few days in the Daily Office lectionary, we have been reading through Exodus 16 and 17, in which the people of Israel are wandering in the desert and they feeling pretty fed up and grouchy about it. The recently popular word ‘hangry’—a portmanteau blending hungry with angry—comes to mind: “irritable or angry because of hunger” (Merriam-Webster). Here’s how God responded:

And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked towards the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. The Lord spoke to Moses and said, “I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.’” (Exodus 16: 10-12)

So, in the evening, God sent down quail enough to cover the ground of their camp (which seems now an extravagant provision for them in their wilderness time). But the people were still hangry, and so God sent them a strange, flaky substance, which the author of Exodus describes as similar to coriander seed, covering the ground when they woke up in the morning, and told them to gather all they would need not just for that day, but enough for their families for the days to come. This is the manna that God sent from heaven to provide for his people so they would not hunger.

In today’s reading from Exodus 17, the people of Israel are continuing to journey across the wilderness, and now they are feeling very thirsty. Again, they complain to Moses and Aaron:

So Moses cried out to the Lord, ‘What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.’ The Lord said to Moses, ‘Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.’ Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. He called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarrelled and tested the Lord, saying, ‘Is the Lord among us or not?’ (Exodus 17: 4-7).

Yesterday at dusk, with not much time to spare before dark, I finally made it out for a run to end the day. As I was running and listening to music, I had many things running through my mind, including a number of things I’m worried about and hadn’t yet taken care of for my upcoming move a few miles up the road. It’s not a cross-country move, but things still need to be packed and I hadn’t even begun to gather or buy moving boxes and such. I had been looking online and dreading having to pay good money for boxes that will be used for a day or two and then folded up and stored in the garage until the next move—and kicking myself for getting rid of all the boxes from two years ago. (These are the very deep theological thoughts constantly running through this priest’s mind lately!)

As light was fading and I was starting to hurry to beat the darkness and get back home, I noticed a couple trash cans next to the end of the driveway and a large pile of perfectly folded up moving boxes—hundreds of dollars’ worth of pristine, heavy-duty cardboard just waiting for someone to take away, assemble and secure with some packing tape, and fill up with stuff. My response, in that moment, was to say to myself: “This is my manna from heaven!” Now, it was all too much for me to attempt to carry home, so I sped up my run, got home and into my car, and quickly drove the few blocks back to make sure I claimed my cardboard manna while I could.

At moment after moment in this wilderness time of journeying toward finding a new home here in Birmingham, God has provided in extravagant ways, beyond what I could have ever asked or imagined. And last night, when I saw the stack of moving boxes just waiting there on the ground, like the quail and manna on the ground and the water from the rock, I was reminded yet again of how much God loves us, cares for us, and provides for us—all the way down to the level of moving boxes. Thanks be to God!

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Recall a time when you felt hungry or thirsty or otherwise lacking something you needed to survive, whether for your physical, emotional, spiritual, or social well-being. What did you learn about yourself in that time of want? What did you learn about your relationships with others? What did you learn about your relationship with God?

Daily Challenge

Did you know that you can still eat manna today? Read more in this article from the New York Times.

You can learn more about the history of manna in Holy Scripture here.

Abide with the Jesus vine – April 27

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14, Exod. 15:22-16:10; 1 Pet. 2:1-10; John 15:1-11

In the excerpt from John 15 appointed for today, Jesus uses gardening to connect his faithful living analogies to those listening. I love this passage. It starts, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower.” Profound and simple, the imagery of this piece of the message is worth sitting with and reflecting upon.

Jesus is just beginning; he continues the metaphor. The gardener removes any branch that does not bear fruit. What could he be talking about? Perhaps it is those branches of malice, guile, insincerity, envy and slander – the ones that Saint Peter writes about in 1 Peter 2 that we read today. Those limbs and sticks are cut off totally and burned in the fire, for they detract our resources from what is good and meaningful and nourishing.

Jesus says each branch that is fruitful is also cut back or pruned, increasing its propensity to be more fruitful. And there is more: the benefit of bearing fruit is that it glorifies God, for all that is produced is brought into being with God’s lifeline, the Jesus vine.

Is there a secret fertilizer or soil amendment needed for these amazing results? Nope. Jesus says “Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.”

When we are grounded in the love of God, we are nourished by love. We are knee-deep in love. When we abide in love, all that we do can come from that place of love and wholeness and nurture. Whether we grew up knowing the agape-filled loam of God’s garden or found ourselves transplanted into the soil of flourishing, Jesus calls each of us to abide in that love – as branches of the Jesus vine.

The Healer and Redeemer of the world calls us to abide in this great love, so that our roots deepen and strengthen. So that even on days when doubt, disease, and drought are afoot, God’s love is holding us. We can still bear fruit and the burdens that are upon us.

Friends, doing this is not easy. There are days when we feel each branch has been cut and we are left with an empty trunk. There are days when it looks like we are with Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness of Shur, surrounded by bitterness and need. Even then, God is with us, faithful and reassuring, bearing our gripes and sadness. May the call to abide as a branch on the Jesus vine bring you hope and inspiration this day.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection 

What does the word “abide” bring up for you today? What other words come to mind when you think about abiding?

What does being fruitful look like for you?

 Daily Challenge

Thinking about fruitfulness, take time to write for five minutes. Reflect on what in your life is fruitful today. What needs pruning? What branches are taking energy but not producing fruit? Who in your network of support helps you name the healthy and unhealthy branches on your trunk?

Telling the Story - April 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7, Exod. 14:21-31; 1 Pet. 1:1-12; John 14:(1-7)8-17

Yesterday, a group of young people in grades two through four gathered to learn about the Holy Eucharist, an old tradition as these children are moving to the age where they begin to participate in the full church service as opposed to leaving for children’s chapel.  We began by gathering around the table (altar) and looking at the connection between a meal and church.  We come together, we pray, we share, and we listen, just like many other meals and gatherings.   Parents ask children to tell stories about their weeks, and hopefully, the family stories of the past sometimes near and sometimes quite distant are shared. 

We then went back in time and told the story of the Israelites’ deliverance out of Egypt, specifically the story that is read this morning in the lectionary.  “What does the parting of the Red Sea have to do with our faith today?” was the question I kept wondering if it would be asked.  One parent hinted at the question as the young people left to work on an art project.  Another parent asked about the plagues and the story of the Passover that proceed this story. These stories seem so distant from our faith, events that happened thousands of years ago, and yet they are mentioned every time someone is baptized and alluded to in the Eucharist.  For people of the Jewish faith, this story is told every time people gather for a Passover Seder dinner, a central part of the faith.

Something happens the more we tell a story.  It becomes closer to our own faith.  In the retelling of a story, the story becomes more of our own story.  It’s why some stories are told more than others at the dinner table.  The more we read a story, the more we tell the story, the more we begin to see our very own lives in the story.  The more we hear and tell the story of the parting of the Red Sea, the more we come to know that God will be with us and lead us through the depths of human pain and life to the promise of something better. 

Why do we read these stories that seem so distant from anything that we have ever experienced?  Because when life becomes more than we imagine that it could be, when the weight of what are experiencing seems too much, a reminder that God has led his people through much worse becomes our hope, and our salvation.

So tell the story.  And tell it again, and may you come to see your own life as a part of God’s larger story. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  What stories do you tell over and over in your family?  How do those stories shape your own understanding of your family?  What stories do you not share?  What stories in the Bible are part of understanding your own story?

Daily Challenge:  Share with a friend or family member a story that is important to you.  Consider how you might tell the story and what details are important to you.  Consider why it is important to remember this story and how it shapes you too.

Seeing is Believing - April 22

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 136; PM Psalm 118; Exod. 13:1-2,11-16; 1 Cor. 15:51-58; Luke 24:1-12

Today’s Reflection
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. But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.  –Luke 24: 6-12

A friend shared an editorial cartoon on social media this Easter week, and maybe you’ve seen it, too. In the single frame, on the left are three women, wearing long tunics and head coverings, and then a few feet away, facing them, is a crowd of men, also wearing long tunics but with beards instead of head scarves. And underneath this scene is this caption: “So ladies, thanks for being the first to witness and report the resurrection and we’ll take it from here.” Sounds close to what we read today in Luke’s account of what happens when the women—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and others who were with them—came to the tomb to embalm Jesus’ body early on that third day after Jesus’ death on the cross.

These women, “who had come with Jesus from Galilee,” were in Jesus’ inner circle. They had come to carry out this final act of love for their dearly loved friend, to embalm his body for the tomb by lovingly applying the spices they had prepared for just this sacred purpose. But when they arrived, still so consumed by the freshness of their grief, they were shocked to find that Jesus’ body was not there. How could this be? Instead, they found the stone was rolled away, rather than sealing the entrance as they had expected. The women walked into the tomb, finding not the dead body of Jesus but rather were greeted by these two men in dazzling white (often understood to be angels). These two messengers remind the women, confused and afraid, of what they already knew but had forgotten in all the tragic circumstances of the preceding days: “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.”

The women then left the tomb to share this shockingly Good News to the other apostles—the men. Men who were probably still sleeping in those early morning hours—and possibly were in hiding, in the wake of Jesus’ crucifixion a few days before. What was their response? To say that what the women were sharing seemed merely “an idle tale.” Not believable.

Except to Peter, who “got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.” Peter believed that what the women shared was possible. Not an idle tale. Peter wanted to believe. But Peter also needed to see for himself. Peter needed to have his own experience of the risen Jesus—and when he experienced it himself, like the women, Peter, too, was amazed.

This Sunday we will read of another disciple, Thomas, who needed to see and feel evidence of the resurrected Jesus for himself. Over the centuries, Thomas has been looked down upon, called the doubting disciple. Each of us needs to have our own direct, personal experience of Jesus and the power of his resurrection for those who believe. The witness of the women, of how they came to know of Jesus’ resurrection is important—like them, we need to share what we have seen so that others will, like Peter, get up and run out to experience it for themselves. Needing to experience the powerful story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection for ourselves—to see with our own eyes, hear with our own ears, touch with our own hands, sense it with our own hearts—is nothing to be looked down upon. Needing evidence and direct experience doesn’t make us doubters—it just means that we want to believe.

Becky+

Questions for Reflection

Recall a time when you wanted to see something for yourself, or to hear something directly from the source. How did experiencing this with your own senses change your belief? Did it make you more likely to share what you saw or heard with others?

Daily Challenge

Read today’s account from Luke 24 alongside the Easter Sunday account from John 20. What do we gain by having both these accounts of first encounters with the risen Jesus?