Praying for Rain - May 17, 2023

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; Baruch 3:24-37; James 5:13-18; Luke 12:22-31

Wow, did someone pray for rain this week? On the way to another end of school awards ceremony on Monday evening, there was terrible flooding on I-65. Tuesday morning, the freshly cleaned windows at the ground level - that had been dusty and dirty from construction in the renovation of the memorial garden – were again speckled with dirt, for Monday’s rain was coming down that hard! The storms even washed away most of the shaving cream, cheese puffs, and glitter left over in the back parking lot following the year-end EYC messy Olympics. Becky and John joked yesterday that Taylor McLemore – Minister for Youth at Saint Stephen’s – must have really prayed for rain to clean up the detritus left behind from the teenagers’ fun.

Prayer is subtle yet powerful. It can move and change us – as a group and as individuals. We read about the power of prayer in the Epistle reading appointed for today. The Letter of James is a primer on Christian living, with teachings imparted that are grounded in God’s law and the stories of the Israelite people. In today’s reading that comes at the end of this brief five-chapter book of the New Testament, James encourages his readers to pray without ceasing – whether they are suffering, happy, or ill. Pray at all times, he says, as a community of faith. Healing, hope, and reconciliation can come when we pray together for one another. This is one of the reasons Saint Stephen’s (and many other churches) publish the names of those on the prayer list. It is not necessarily for people to inquire curiously, ‘What’s wrong with David?’; rather, we get to hold one another in prayer by name – in thanksgiving, in God’s care, in the compassion of Jesus. We read that “the prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up.” (v. 15a)

Prayer brings us salvation and rest in a different way, too. The second half of verse 15 says that “anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven.” As we open ourselves to prayer, sometimes our minds slip into what we regret and what pains us. When we lift those discomforts and spaces of dis-ease to God, we are reconciled to our Lord. Then, we are more apt to be reconciled with those who have hurt us…and it is this reason that James suggests, “Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective.” (v. 16) The contrite person confesses to the one they have hurt, and each gets to pray for the other, so that healing grows within each one. When set in the framework of faithful living in God’s love, this model is both revolutionary and elementary. Prayer can move mountains and melt the stones of resentment that are piled in our hearts. It is not easy, and it can be done with God’s help.

Whether your prayers bring great drought or rain, like Elijah’s did in 1 Kings, or Taylor McLemore prays for the deluges to clean up the back parking lot after a rollicking time with the youth group, I pray that we remember that prayer as a community brings us strength and healing and joy. I have seen this happen among us in my years at Saint Stephen’s, and I look forward to hearing your stories of prayer bringing you closer to God and one another.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection:

How does prayer factor into your rhythms of processing hurt or disappointment? Do you ask others to pray for you in these situations?

Daily Challenge:

Prayer is a discipline, and the results are sometimes a mixed bag. Sit with this prayer from St. Francis de Sales today.

'If you give your life for the sake of the Gospel, you’ll find it.’ - May 15

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Deut. 8:1-10; James 1:1-15; Luke 9:18-27

“Be Jesus people rather than get too involved with churchy things. Be happy without having all the answers. And I keep coming back to Jesus saying, ‘If you seek your life, you lose it. But if you give your life for the sake of the Gospel, you’ll find it.’ Love your neighbor. Pretty simple.” – the Rev. Doug Carpenter. These are words from the end of an interview with Doug Carpenter. In the upcoming Saint Magazine, I get a chance to walk with both Doug and the Rt. Rev. Russell Kendrick about their time at Saint Stephen’s, what they learned about their own calling, and how Saint Stephen’s has shaped their own lives and understanding of God.  Our magazine team pulled this quote, and it takes up the entirety of page six. I can’t wait for you to be able to read the whole story. 

Could it really be this simple? Don’t seek your life, but give it?  This is the theme of our Gospel appointed for today.

On Saturday, in the busiest month of the year, in a season of graduations and championships, with more to do than seems rationally possible, we welcomed several hundred people into the Parish Hall to package 50,000 meals for Rise Against Hunger.  A loud 70s Dance Party playlist thumped through the speakers with a gong being hit every few minutes to signify one thousand meals being packaged. Young children ran around the space handing off bags and supplies. It was the most unselfish moment I’ve experienced in a long time. No one took home anything, no prizes were earned, no names were mentioned, only a sense of being a part of community and what we find when we give of ourselves.

Around 1:30 p.m., we began winding up the day. Our supplies of vitamin packages and the bags that contain soy, rice, and vegetables were dwindling. When the final gong was struck, we had packaged 49,900 meals.  We couldn’t find the last stack of bags which we later learned had been moved under a box and weren’t discovered until everything had been put up. 49,900 – exactly 0.2% from the completion of our goal. We had been telling people for months that we would package 50,000 meals and now, there was no chance of our goal being met. 

Maybe 49,900 is the perfect number, a reminder of our own imperfection. It could not have been a more beautiful Saturday, a day filled with imperfect people giving of themselves for the sake of the Gospel, and in the process finding life. Nothing’s perfect in this world, but it sure is beautiful when we follow Jesus. Maybe it really is that simple. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: Can you think back to moments when you have tried to find your life and felt lost? What about times when you have given so much that you have found life? 

Daily Challenge: Pick one area where you could lend a hand. Send an email to the Rev. Dr. Becky Bridges, our Associate Rector for Formation and Outreach if you need help finding an area to serve. 

Holy Interruptions - May 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 106:1-18; PM Psalm 106:19-48; Wisdom 16:15-17:1; Rom. 14:13-23; Luke 8:40-56

Today’s Reflection

Have you ever noticed how busy and in-demand Jesus was? Throughout the Gospels, we hear repeatedly this scenario: Jesus is on the way somewhere, and people along the road are following him, coming up to him, asking him for healing or for answers to tough questions. Or Jesus arrives somewhere, whether by boat or by foot, and a massive crowd has already formed in anticipation of his arrival, thronging all around him just to get a glimpse of his face or to be close enough to hear his words once he begins to teach. (We also hear how Jesus was good about knowing when he needed to break away from this demanding life to recharge, but that is for another reflection.)

But an important thing to notice in these scenarios, when Jesus is going from place to place, crowd to crowd, is that he knows when he needs to stop and pay attention to that one person who in that very moment needs him and his healing love the most. In Luke 8, we read of another one of these days when Jesus is in high demand and yet another crowd has formed, waiting to hear more of his saving, healing message. And in this moment, we hear of how a man named Jairus seeks out Jesus to come heal his only daughter, just 12 years old but about to die. Jesus listens to Jairus and begins to make his way toward Jairus’ house. This is important. Jesus is on the way to heal a beloved daughter and give people a glimpse of God’s love at work in this world.

On the way through the crowd, though, someone else is seeking him out. A woman, who has been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years, also needs Jesus’ healing touch. She sees Jesus is very busy, maybe she even realizes Jesus is on the way to heal someone else. So, she just brushes up against his cloak, believing that she will be made well even by this simple touch. And Jesus senses even this, noticing “that the power had gone out from me.” Jesus realizes that someone touched him and was healed—without him even saying a word to make it so. He could have left it at that and gone about his way. But Jesus knows that this woman, too, is important: she is a child of God who needs grace and love. She reached out to Jesus in hope and found healing. So, Jesus stops what he’s doing and acknowledges this woman, allowing her to share her story, and affirming her act of reaching out to him: “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace.”

Henri Nouwen once wrote of his realization that what at first seem like interruptions are, in fact, the work to which he and we are truly called. We all encounter, as Jesus did on the way to visit Jairus’ dying daughter, these holy interruptions. And in those moments, we have a choice: We can keep going about our business, what we have planned to do and accomplish today—or we can remain alert for those moments when someone needs us, needs us to stop and pay attention. And if we choose rightly in these moments, this can make all the difference in the life of a fellow human being who needs to feel Christ’s healing touch in their life, too.

Becky+

Moment for Reflection

When has someone stopped what they were doing to notice you (or someone you love) and offer them the healing gift of acknowledgement and attention? When have you done the same for others?

How well do you listen? - May 10

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96
Wisdom 13:1-9; Rom 13:1-14; Luke 8:16-25

“No one listens to me!” says the not-quite-teenager who lives in our house. It is a routine complaint that she submits to us. She wants to be heard, understood, and heeded. (So do I!) And so, our battle of egos and personalities wages on, with God’s love keeping us in orbit together. This parenting challenge is not isolated to my own experience…perhaps you have heard or felt this tension through your own process of maturation.

Jesus’ message from Luke 8 speaks to the ways we listen and pay attention. In yesterday’s gospel reading, Jesus tells the parable of the sower distributing seeds upon different types of ground, affecting how they grow. He concludes, saying, “Let anyone with ears to hear listen.” The disciples ask a clarifying question, for they do not understand the teaching story, and so Jesus explores the meanings of the varies terrains and seeds with regard to faith and life.

Then, we hear what is appointed for today, beginning with Luke 8:16 – “No one after lighting a lamp hides it under a jar, or puts it under a bed, but puts it on a lampstand, so that those who enter may see the light.” I listened to this scripture in a fresh way today. Jesus tells the disciples that after hearing such a truth about the growth and fullness that can come from a life grounded in the Good News of God in Christ, that light cannot be covered up, ignored, or shoved in the back of a closet. When we have a-ha moments, we get to put those insights in a place where we revisit them, ponder them, share them, and continue going deeper in our faith. Perhaps that is why there is a niche for inspirational words as wall art – we need reminders to cling to faith, hope, and love, or to “accept what is, let go of what was, and have faith in what will be.”

When we listen to the Good News of Jesus and let that hope inspire us – we are receiving a gift. The Word of God is a gift given to anyone with ears to hear. We are invited to listen. To hear. And to do something about these messages of faithful living.

May we each have ears to hear, minds to ponder, and hearts to respond deeply to the promise and love of Jesus this day.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection: 

Do you consider yourself a good listener? Who listens well to you? When is it hard to listen to others?

Daily Challenge:

Reach out to someone this week who is hard for you to listen to. Ask how you can pray for them. And ask them to pray for you, too.

Getting up with Fleas - May 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65; Wisdom 9:1, 7-18; Col. (3:18-4:1)2-18; Luke 7:36-50

There were statements I heard from my father often when I was growing up. When I would go on a trip or somewhere without my parents I was always told “Remember who you are, and who you represent.” If I asked one of the millions of ‘what if’ questions, my father would always respond, “What if the Earth cracks open and swallows you whole.”  And when he was especially critical of the company I kept, “When you lay down with dogs, you get up fleas.” 

Now, as much time has passed from the litany of annoying parental inquiries and ideologies, I can look back on the words of my father with a little more charity.  I get his point, and there is truth that when you surround yourself around people who want to make the world better, you are much more likely to be a better person. 

The Gospel message for today is quite different. It is the seemly good-natured Pharisee, whom most parents would be glad their son is spending time with, who is critical of Jesus’s inclusion of a woman who is named as a sinner. You get the impression that Jesus would have stood up with fleas after spending time with this woman. In fact, Jesus uses the person who is so offensive to the Pharisees as the model for faithfulness and a reminder that our judgments often completely miss the mark. 

I remember walking in downtown Nashville years ago and seeing a sign on a church, “Sinners welcome, no Saints allowed.” I love the sentiment. We are all broken people in need of God’s grace. While it can be exceptionally beneficial and helpful to surround ourselves with people who have grown in their faith and can model for us what it means to be faithful, the inverse is also true – you could be that person for someone else. 

So hang out with a sinner. You might get up with fleas, or you might teach another about God’s love and grace.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Who are the people in your life who have been a positive influence on you?  Can you think of people who might list you as one of their positive influences? 

Daily Challenge:  Write a letter to one of the people you have thought of experiencing gratitude for their influence.

Thrones and Sceptres - May 5

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Wisdom 6:12-23; Col 3:1-11; Luke 7:1-17

Today’s Reflection

The beginning of wisdom is the most sincere desire for instruction, and concern for instruction is love of her, and love of her is the keeping of her laws, and giving heed to her laws is assurance of immortality, and immortality brings one near to God; so the desire for wisdom leads to a kingdom. Therefore if you delight in thrones and sceptres, O monarchs over the peoples, honour wisdom, so that you may reign for ever.  Wisdom of Solomon 6: 17-21

Tomorrow is a big day for people in the United Kingdom as it is Coronation Day for Charles III. Many others around the world will watch with interest as he is officially crowned the monarch over England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland. As Episcopalians, we may have some extra interest in this event as the king or queen of England is also considered, at least in title, the head of the Church of England. In their cultural context, church and state are intertwined in ways that may seem arcane and puzzling to many in the United States, where we prize the separation of church and state.

The Coronation is a liturgy presided over by the Archbishop of Canterbury (currently the Most Rev. Justin Welby), taking place in Westminster Abbey. The liturgy is a 34-page order of service (or 42 pages if you want to read the commentary), which includes many familiar elements from our shared Anglican tradition. One part of the service that seems familiar if you have been to an ordination service is the singing of the Veni Creator prayer:

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, And lighten with celestial fire. Thou the anointing Spirit art, Who dost thy sevenfold gifts impart. Thy blessèd unction from above Is comfort, life, and fire of love. Enable with perpetual light The dullness of our blinded sight. Anoint and cheer our soiled face With the abundance of thy grace. Keep far our foes, give peace at home: Where thou art guide, no ill can come. Teach us to know the Father, Son, And thee, of both, to be but One. That, through the ages all along, This may be our endless song: Praise to thy eternal merit, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Immediately following singing Veni Creator, in Welsh and in English, the Archbishop of Canterbury will pray thanksgiving for the Holy Oil, made of olives from the Mount of Olives (where Charles’ grandmother, Princess Alice, is buried), and blessed and presented by the Archbishops of Jerusalem. In this thanksgiving, the Archbishop of Canterbury prays,

By the power of the same Spirit, bless and sanctify this oil, that it may be for thy servant Charles a sign of joy and gladness; that as King he may know the abundance of thy grace and the power of thy mercy, and that we may be made a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for thine own possession.

At this point, the Coronation liturgy takes an interesting turn, as the Anointing Screen is arranged around the Coronation chair, which means that the most holy moment of the service remains unseen by the thousands gathered in the Abbey and the millions viewing the ceremony around the world. This is the part of the service that most parallels the point in the ordination of a deacon, priest, or bishop, when the bishop’s hands are placed on the head of the ordinand, the Holy Spirit is invoked, and the person at that point becomes what he or she is being ordained to be. And so it is with Charles III. As he anoints Charles with holy oil, on his hands, breast, and head, the Archbishop prays:

Be your hands anointed with holy oil. Be your breast anointed with holy oil. Be your head anointed with holy oil, as kings, priests, and prophets were anointed. And as Solomon was anointed king by Zadok the priest and Nathan the prophet, so may you be anointed, blessed, and consecrated King over the peoples, whom the Lord your God has given you to rule and govern; in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

And he prays this blessing:

Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who by his Father was anointed with the Oil of gladness above his fellows, by his holy Anointing pour down upon your Head and Heart the blessing of the Holy Spirit, and prosper the works of your Hands: that by the assistance of his heavenly grace you may govern and preserve the People committed to your charge in wealth, peace, and godliness; and after a long and glorious course of ruling a temporal kingdom wisely, justly, and religiously, you may at last be made partaker of an eternal kingdom, through the same Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Only after Charles III has received this anointing and blessing is he then garbed with his royal vestments and receives his spurs, swords, armills, stole, robe, orb, ring, glove, rod, and sceptre, all of which are presented with great ceremony and lead up to the crowning, after which all respond, “God Save the King!” Following this, the Queen is crowned, and the service then turns to the celebration of the Eucharist, using the traditional English Book of Common Prayer language (much like our Rite I liturgy).

Regardless of what one thinks of monarchy as a tradition or as a means of governance (personally I have some doubts about it on several levels), it is worthwhile to reflect on Britain’s tradition of praying for their leaders and anointing them in this way. As our friend Sam Wells recently preached, in a sermon at St. Martin-in-the-Fields leading up to Coronation Week, “The British monarch is a symbol of this country’s commitment to the flourishing of all its people, bar none, and of all people everywhere. The most demanding aspect of being king is not the scrutiny or constant public attention but the setting aside of any purpose other than that of the people’s flourishing.”

In the monarch, Wells argues, we are given one picture of what it can mean to follow in the way of Jesus as the Good Shepherd, and as he concluded his sermon, “May the coronation of King Charles focus our attention on the qualities needed to shepherd the nation and the Commonwealth; may it empower each one of us in the way we shepherd those in our care; and may it renew our wonder at the good shepherd who himself became a lamb, and whose goodness and mercy follow us all our days, that we might share green pastures and dwell in God’s house forever.”

Becky+

Moment for Reflection

You can view Wells’ sermon, “The Qualities of a Shepherd,” on YouTube (sermon begins at 22:30). Or you may find the transcript here.

If you are interested in reading the Coronation liturgy for yourself (or having a copy to look at if you’re viewing the Coronation online or on television), you can download it here.

Wrestling with the ungodly – May 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53], Wisdom 4:16-5:8; Col. 1:24-2:7; Luke 6:27-38

“The righteous who have died will condemn the ungodly who are living…”

That is the first piece of Holy Scripture I read this morning. What?! I felt jolted almost as much as the extra large cup of coffee yesterday afternoon. These words drip with justice and retribution...and I keep reading to see what else is in store in the Wisdom of Solomon.

“…youth that is quickly perfected (ended) will condemn the prolonged old age of the unrighteous. For they will see the end of the wise, and will not understand what the Lord purposed for them, and for what he kept them safe.”

The tension between entities continue, and for this I sought some Bible notes, sharing the context here that early death was a sign of God’s favor, rather than a curse. To live long into advanced age was filled with aches and pains, metaphorically and physically.

“The unrighteous will see, and will have contempt for them, but the Lord will laugh them to scorn. After this they will become dishonored corpses, and an outrage among the dead for ever; because he will dash them speechless to the ground, and shake them from the foundations; they will be left utterly dry and barren, and they will suffer anguish, and the memory of them will perish.”

Wow! That is some old-fashioned, harsh judgment of the unrighteous. These words in Wisdom repeat themes of the prophets Isaiah and Jeremiah, who prophesied that there would be a reckoning. These holy men proclaimed that God’s people would be restored and those who wronged the Israelites during exile would be brought to justice before the Lord.

Have you ever longed for someone who has hurt you – either directly or indirectly – to feel the sting of justice? The burn of regret? The heaviness of guilt? These words from the Wisdom of Solomon ring of these themes. The appointed reading for today does not end there.

The condemnation of the unrighteous is followed by the counterbalance – what will happen to the righteous. Those who were wronged “will stand with great confidence in the presence of those who have oppressed them”. Restoration comes. And deep repentance. The vindictive tone ends. “When the unrighteous see them, they will be shaken with dreadful fear, and they will be amazed at the unexpected salvation of the righteous. They will speak to one another in repentance…”

Those who have wronged others will groan and see clearly what they have done, saying “Fools that we were!” Their eyes being opened, they see the ones who are righteous in a new light and see their own actions as “paths of lawlessness and destruction”.

This reading from the Apocrypha is appointed for today in our lectionary. While these words were written around the time of Jesus’ birth, these messages that explore the contrasting trajectories of the righteous and unrighteous land in my heart today as I process the conclusion of the criminal case against the man who shot and killed Bart Rainey, Sharon Yeager, and Jane Pounds. It was painful to see that tall man walk into the courtroom yesterday. As I watched him walk and heard the chains clink around his waist and wrists, he looked at the benches filled by the families he affected, Saint Stephen’s clergy, and church leadership. I am still working through the messiness of the loss and anger and fear and resentment upon my heart. It is so much. And so deep.

The words, “I will not leave you comfortless” come to mind…the King James Version of John 14:18, which we also read as “I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to see you.” Jesus will not leave me alone in this mire. Jesus will be your partner in the muck, and inspire each of us to lean upon God. And others – like trained therapists – can also be our guides and confidantes in this struggle, where love will get the final word.

Jesus’ words come to us in today’s gospel reading from Luke, which begins, “But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” Friends, let us pray…for those whom we have lost, for those who are lost, and for ourselves as we ache. We are not alone, and we are deeply loved by God.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection:

Where do you feel anger? Who and what helps you process your deep feelings of pain and anguish?

Daily Challenge:

Sit in prayer today, praying for someone who requires extra grace to be with or pray for. Ask God to help you.

Way of St. James - May 1

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; PM Psalm 44; Wisdom 1:16-2:11,21-24; Col. 1:1-14; Luke 6:1-11

Today is the feast of St. James and St. Phillip, two of the twelve apostles.  The church has many days that commemorate women and men who have led inspirational lives that continue to shape the faith of believers and seekers.  In our own church tradition, we don’t put a lot of emphasis on these days but that doesn’t mean the impact isn’t real.  This morning, I was struck by the subtle way St. James continues to impact people in our own community.

Yesterday during the 7:45 a.m. service, we prayed for two parishioners who came forward to receive a blessing before leaving that afternoon to head to Portugal to walk the Portuguese route of the Way of St. James, one of the many pilgrimages of the Camino de Santiago de Compostela, a system of trails and paths that all lead to the Cathedral of St. James in Santiago, Spain, where people have been traveling for over 1000 years to visit the place where St. James is buried.  It is one of three cathedrals built over the burial suite of one of the twelve apostles of Jesus. 

This morning, another group of four friends from Saint Stephen’s are leaving to walk the last 105 km of the traditional route across northern Spain. And later this week, parents of youth in our youth program will learn about future plans that will include a pilgrimage for our young people that will include an opportunity to walk part of the Camino de Santiago. Many others from our community have walked, biked, or even ridden on horseback parts of this famous pilgrimage.  St. James continues to make an impact in the life of our community.

What strikes me most about these trips are the intentions that people have to grow in their faith and the lengths they will go to gain deeper insight into how God is a part of their lives.  Walking 75-500 miles to grow deeper in your faith is not an ordinary decision.  Today’s Gospel reading (normal lectionary and not the feast day reading) is a passage from Luke where Jesus justifies breaking some of the normal rules of sabbath. “Jesus answered, ‘Have you not read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? He entered the house of God and took and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and gave some to his companions?’ Then he said to them, ‘The Son of Man is lord of the sabbath.’”  I believe there is a relationship between the pioneering spirit of those who venture off the beaten path to know God more fully to the spirit of Jesus’s rule-breaking ethic that says not everything you need is contained in the religious life of community. 

I hope that when you read a reflection, when you show up to church, when you engage in a ministry that your faith is deepened, and you know God more fully.  And, today’s passage from Luke is another reminder that sometimes religious leaders fail to see the bigger picture. What are the proactive ways that you are seeking out growing in your faith, and what responsibility are you taking in your own faith development?  What will it lead you to next?  A new book, a new class, or a self-guided trip around the world?

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: What are the proactive ways that you are seeking out growing in your faith, and what responsibility are you taking in your own faith development? 
Daily Challenge:  If you are interested in learning more about the Way of St. James, I encourage you to watch this class offered at Saint Stephen’s earlier this year by two of our pilgrims. 

Face to Face Communication - April 28

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 105:1-22; PM Psalm 105:23-45 ; Dan. 6:1-15; 2 John 1-13; Luke 5:12-26

Today’s Reflection

Amongst today’s readings we find one entire book of the Bible, the Second Epistle of John. In this short letter attributed to John the Evangelist (also author of the Gospel of John), we find just thirteen lines of a personal letter addressed to “the elect lady and her children.” It’s a very personal letter, commending them for “walking in the truth,” encouraging them to “love one another,” and warning them to “be on your guard” against those who teach things that “go beyond” the teaching of Christ.

What caught my eye, though, came at the close of the letter, when John says this: “Although I have much to write to you, I would rather not use paper and ink; instead I hope to come to you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete” (2 John 12). In this statement we hear John, himself the writer (depending which scholars you follow) of a substantial Gospel account and other epistles, saying that we need to communicate with one another not just through writing letters, but also through spending time with one another face to face. How much truth there is in this statement still today!

Sometimes, a letter or an email, a text or a call or a video chat, is the way to go, be it due to expediency or being separated by many miles. But nothing can ever substitute for committing to spend time with another person face to face. Not even a video chat can capture the power of close physical proximity—being able to reach out to hold a hand, pat someone on the shoulder, offer a hug.

There’s something to be said for sharing companionship with others in person. It’s why we gather for worship together in the same physical space on Sundays, and for small groups throughout the week. And it’s why we make a point of delivering communion and visiting those for whom it isn’t possible to be physically with us at the church.

While we also put much time and effort into our printed and electronic communication, everything from our magazine and bulletins to our e-news and our livestreams of worship and formation, we intend these not as a substitute for in-person interactions but rather as a supplement. When you watch a video of ours online or receive something from us in your email, our deep hope is that these communications will remind you to come join us for church this Sunday, to be with us “face to face, so that our joy may be complete.”

Becky+

Moment for Reflection

Today or this weekend, challenge yourself to take what could have been a text or an email and instead connect with that person face to face. Think about the ways you tend to communicate with people and look for chances to visit with someone in person rather than through electronic means.

POV - April 26, 2023

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48 
Dan. 5:1-12; 1 John 5:1-12; Luke 4:38-44

Looking out the window of my office at Saint Stephen’s, I can see the skilled workers who are building the columbarium – a wall in the Memorial Garden that will hold niches for funeral urns to be stored. Over these last few months, the laborers have driven heavy machinery to move dirt and rocks, preparing the foundation for appropriate drainage and to withstand the elements. Concrete has been poured. Rocks have been cut, sorted, placed, and sealed with mortar to cover the cinder block infrastructure. The workers sometimes stand and discuss, point and re-evaluate. Guidance is offered. Adjustments are made. The sun beats down on their heads, and their gloves are dirtied by the signs of progress. It is exciting to watch the project move forward from the ground up, through the purview of my ground-level windows.

Hanging within one of my windows is a metal set of angel wings, a gift from a parishioner at St. Thomas in Huntsville. The angel wings are about a foot long and are suspended above the top panel of the window. There are occasions when workers sit in the sill to rest, or they stand at just the right place. If I look up at just one of those times, the laborer in front of my office looks as if he has wings. Whether resting, talking, or lifting, it makes me smile to see a heavenly touch on each of these men. I don’t know that any of these skilled workers know how I see them…and I actually wonder if they realize I am working at a desk just beyond those little windows at their feet.

Musing over points of view, I am drawn to Psalm 38. In my Bible, the heading of this says, “A Psalm of David, for the memorial offering.” This is one of the seven penitential psalms, in addition to Psalms 6, 32, 51, 102, 130, and 143. The footnote states that this is a psalm of individual lament over a serious illness plaguing the psalmist. As I read these prayerful words of supplication to God, I wonder if this was first intended as a private prayer, or if others knew that the psalmist was struggling mightily. In verse 4, the poet wrote, “For my iniquities overwhelm me; like a heavy burden they are too much for me to bear.” Did others around them know how hard life felt? Do those around you know what burdens you carry? Do the pains of your body or lived experience leave you searing, numb, or detached?

I recognize that I do not know even the first bit of the joys and struggles upon the shoulders of those working in the Memorial Garden. And yet, there are times when I see angel wings upon them. This truth reminds me that each of us has inner turmoil and pain. There will be moments when others see the angel wings upon our shoulder blades, lifting us through the muck and mire. And maybe, just maybe, we will hear those stories of hope and encouragement to get us to steady ground as we call out to God to stay near and help us.

Hang in there, my friends. A different point of view reveals the angel wings.

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection:

Do you feel stuck in a single point of view? How easy is it to change your perspective? Who or what helps you adjust your field of vision?

Daily Challenge:

Speak to someone this week with whom you often cross paths, but you know little about them. Ask how you can pray for them -- and then do it!

10 Years makes Quite a Difference - April 24

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15 ; Dan.4:19-27; 1 John 3:19-4:6; Luke 4:14-30

I am notorious for leaving my Book of Common Prayer / Hymnal all over the church.  I actually have two, one that was a gift from my Mother-in-Law given to me on June 14, 2013, at my ordination.  The other was given to me on May 11, 2013, by a group of six members of St. George’s in Arlington, Virginia, that I had met with monthly for two years as they helped me reflect on my role as seminarian at that church.  The second book is red, and the one from my mother-in-law, with a black cover, is the one I usually use at church. 

Yet, I couldn’t find my usual BCP on Sunday morning (it has since been located), so I rushed downstairs to grab the red book from my office and I opened the book to see the note from my seminarian committee, almost ten years ago today. My how things have changed! 

Are you the same way, ten years have passed and your understanding of God, God’s grace, love, redemption, and resurrection have taken on new meaning and life? 

Today’s Gospel is the story of Jesus in his hometown preaching in the temple as a boy.  He unrolls a scroll from the 61 chapter of Isaiah and reads a passage to the people in the synagogue.  People are amazed.   And then when Jesus offers criticism, the town turns on him and drives him out.  They cannot see the connection. It will take another ten to twenty years for people to begin to understand just who this boy is and the implications for all of humanity.

While this passage certainly points to Jesus’s knowledge of Scripture, his connection to the text in Isaiah, and the prediction of how the first Christian people would see the fulfillment of the Hebrew Scriptures, this text points to another very simple truth – we will grow in our faith.   What we see today, we may see with new issues and a fresh understanding later. 

Where were you 10 years ago?  What did you believe?  Does Jesus take new meaning in your life today?

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: Think back to where you were ten years ago. Where were you 10 years ago?  What did you believe?  Does Jesus take new meaning in your life today?

Daily Challenge: Write a note to yourself ten years from now. Put it in your Book of Common Prayer or a bible, and now add a calendar reminder in your Google or Outlook calendar to read the note.

'With you I am well pleased' - April 21

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 134, 135; Dan 3:1-18; 1 John 3:1-10; Luke 3:15-22 

Today’s Reflection

The Gospel reading appointed for today (Luke 3: 15-22) tells of how Jesus traveled to the River Jordan to be baptized by John, who had been baptizing people to purify them from sin, calling them to repentance and a holier life. Why would Jesus, the pure and sinless Son of God, the one whose sandals John said he was not worthy to carry, need to be baptized? And yet, Jesus said he must be baptized by John “to fulfill all righteousness” (Matthew 3:15).

So, why did Jesus need to be baptized? One reason is that, in the moment of Jesus’ baptism, we are given the clearest picture of how Jesus is truly the Son of God, and how he fits into the Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The moment of Jesus’ baptism is when we both see and hear evidence that this seeming human being is in fact God’s own Son: “and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’” (Luke 3: 21-22). In Jesus’ baptism, God the Father makes God’s threefold nature known to all gathered there at the Jordan—and to all who would hear about it later by word of mouth and in Scripture.

Jesus needed to be baptized so that the world would know more clearly who he was. In being baptized, Jesus was clearly marked as the Beloved Son of God. Likewise, when each one of us is baptized, we are “sealed by the Holy Spirit… and marked as Christ’s own for ever.” When Jesus was baptized, he was marked as God’s own Son. When we are baptized, we are marked as “Christ’s own,” God’s dearly beloved children, forever received “into the household of God” (BCP 308).

Baptism is our rite of entry into the life of God. Of all the sacraments, only Eucharist and Baptism were modeled for us by Jesus himself. In the life of Christ, his baptism by John in the River Jordan marked the beginning of his public ministry, so it served as an initiation rite in that way for Jesus as well. Not only that, but Jesus often used words that mean immersion or baptism to discuss his ultimate sacrifice: “the suffering and death that lies ahead of him as a ‘baptism’ he is going to endure… as if going towards suffering and death were a kind of immersion in something, being drowned or swamped in something” (Williams). In our own baptisms, Rowan Williams observes, “We are, so to speak, ‘dropped’ into that mysterious event which Christians commemorate on Good Friday, and, more regularly, in the breaking of bread at Holy Communion.”

The baptism proper involves being immersed or having water poured upon the baptized. The immersion in water carries the meaning of first being dead to sin, then being raised to new life in Christ. In the creation, God ordered the chaos when he divided the waters from the land and the sky. From this perspective, water is associated with the primordial chaos. As Williams reflects, “At the very beginning of creation . . . there was watery chaos. And over that watery chaos there was, depending on how you read the Hebrew, the Holy Spirit hovering or a great wind blowing. First there is chaos, and then there is the wind of God’s spirit; and out of the watery chaos comes the world. And God says this is good.”

When we are baptized, we are baptized into Jesus, who brings our inherent human chaos into divine order. And with this, God is well pleased.

Becky+

Moment for Reflection

What do you know of your own baptism? Is it a moment you have been told about or seen pictures of? Or were you old enough at the time of your baptism that you can remember it for yourself? How does reflecting on the moment of Jesus’ own baptism change how you see the spiritual meaning inherent in your own moment of baptism?

Name changes - April 19, 2023

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14 
Dan. 2:17-30; 1 John 2:12-17; John 17:20-26 

The story of Daniel and his friends has always been a fascinating Bible story adventure, as they face perils like lions and fiery furnaces. I learned something new about this part of our Hebrew legacy while studying the Old Testament reading this morning. The famed three men who faced fire and through faith in God were protected, the same three who were always named together - Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego - were not given those names at birth!

The disrupting king Nebuchadnezzar from Babylon had Jerusalem besieged. The invading king had some of the finest of Judah, noble families and those with talents and skills, brought to his Babylonian palace to learn and live in the manner of the royal court. (This is describes the Babylonian exile, decimating the land of Judah and those left behind, and defining the trajectory of what was to be the story of the Israelites on their return.) The palace master welcomed Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah, among many others. He gave them other names: Daniel became Belteshazzar; Hananiah became Shadrach; Mishael became Meshach; and Azariah became Abednego. The original names were Jewish ones, ending in -el or –[y]ah, connecting them to Israel’s God YHWH. The other names referred to foreign deities - Babylonian gods Bel and Nabu and Sumerian god Anu. (I had no idea!!) The concordance notes in my Bible offered that name changes were a common practice among conquering kings, as a means of shifting one’s identity – in ethnicity and faith.

In our story of Daniel, faith in God and fealty to Judah remained true, though he and his friends were fiercely tested by the king who had disturbing dreams. Sleepless and frantic, Nebuchadnezzar searched for a magician, sorcerer, or Chaldean to tell the king his dream and then interpret it (Daniel 2:1-16). What he asked was impossible…the Chaldeans answer to the king was, “There is no one on earth who can reveal what the king demands! In fact no king, however great and powerful, has ever asked such a thing of any magician or enchanter or Chaldean. The thing that the king is asking is too difficult, and no one can reveal it to the king except the gods, whose dwelling is not with mortals.” (v. 10-11) The king’s demand came at a high cost – the chief executioner was to execute all wisemen in Babylon if no one could meet Nebuchadnezzar’s impulsive demand.

Daniel let his companions know of the tensions brewing. He told them to pray – to “seek mercy from the god of heaven concerning this mystery” – to save their lives and the lives of many others around them. The faithful Judeans prayed, and our appointed reading for today fills in a few details – a vision came to Daniel in his dreams. And Daniel prayed words of praise and thanks to God, “Blessed be the name of God from age to age, for wisdom and power are his.” (v. 20) Daniel approached Nebuchadnezzar and proclaimed that the God of Israel was the one that showed the king the vision of what would happen at the end of his days.

Tales of biblical yore like these are compelling – as faith stories, as adventures of the human experience, and as invitations to see our own prayers of fear, fervor, and faith within the spaces of Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah – though I am not sure I can call the latter three by their original names. Old habits are hard to shake!

-- Katherine+

Questions for Reflection

What is the name you choose to be called? Who named you? If your driver's license reflects a different name, reflect on those names and the stories associated.

Daily Challenge:

Read about the different names the God of Israel is called... resources could include books on your shelf or websites through the Episcopal Church or other venues. Get curious!

You are the Mirror - April 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7; Dan. 1:1-21; 1 John 1:1-10; John 17:1-11

Most of my summers from age fifteen to twenty-two were spent in a small town in northeastern Arkansas working at a Boy Scout Camp.  Most summers I worked on acquiring more freckles serving on the Waterfront Staff and my last summer I was the Program Director of the camp.  Every year, we would have around thirty staff members and many young people only came to work one summer. 

One of the greatest lessons I learned was from one of my first bosses, who told me that we shouldn’t be judged on how good of a job we do.  My boss shared, “I expect you to do a good job.  However, you will be remembered by how well you build up the people around you who will carry on the work.”  Making sure you train up your replacement was critical for the success of the camp because we couldn’t work at the camp forever, even if many of us wanted to. 

I thought of that advice while reading today’s Gospel from John when Jesus says in verse 8 “for the words that you gave to me I have given to them, and they have received them and know in truth that I came from you; and they have believed that you sent me.” Jesus has received God’s word and empowered his disciples to carry on the work of Christ.  

The 50 days of Easter are designed for you and me to learn to see the manifestation of Christ in this world.  To proclaim God’s resurrection is to be open to seeing God’s resurrection lived out.  It begins with curiosity and openness.  However, we are also recipients of a faith that has been passed down to us, and we have been equipped to be the bearers of God’s Good News.  This creates an interesting dichotomy: We are the image bearers of the image we seek to discover. 

Maybe Easter should be a reminder that if we need to know there is goodness and beauty and resurrection in this world, we should look no further than a mirror.  The profound truth is that no matter how much we have messed up, come up short, left things undone, God’s grace and love are a reminder that we are the image of Christ to others.  We get to pass down this great truth and legacy to those who come after us.  What a beautiful gift to live into!  Happy Easter.

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Consider who you are good news for?  Who are the people whom your life has a positive and joyful impact on? 

Daily Challenge:  Consider who you might be a mentor in the faith for. Spend some time considering how you might be more intentional about mentoring that person. 

The Spirit will guide you - April 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 136; PM Psalm 118 ; Dan. 12:1-4,13; Acts 4:1-12 ; John 16:1-15 

Today’s Reflection

Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. … I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you.  —John 16: 7, 12-14

When Jesus knew that he was approaching his final days, he began saying things meant to prepare his followers, especially the disciples, of what it would be like when he would no longer be with them. Jesus wanted them to know that they would not be left alone, with no direction, but rather that another would be sent to guide them. In John’s Gospel, this someone is referred to as the Advocate and as the Spirit of truth. Elsewhere in Scripture, we know this guiding presence as the Holy Spirit. We acknowledge this Advocate, this Spirit of truth, in our Episcopal liturgy every time we pray in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. And yet, this Spirit seems enigmatic and difficult to put into words just what it is and how we can know this holy presence in our lives.

As I was reflecting on how Jesus is telling his friends about the one who is coming, and how he wanted them to know this Advocate and to welcome this Spirit’s presence in their lives, the lyrics of a song I have not heard or sung in many years came to mind:

There’s a sweet, sweet Spirit in this place,

And I know that it’s the Spirit of the Lord.

There are sweet expressions on each face,

And I know you feel the presence of the Lord.

Sweet Holy Spirit, sweet heavenly Dove,

Stay right here with us, filling us with Your love.

And for these blessings, we lift our hearts in praise.

Without a doubt we’ll know that we have been revived

When we shall leave this place.

Akers Music House 1962, renewed by Manna Music 1990.

When I searched online for the lyrics, I stumbled across an article (by Michael Hawn on the United Methodist Church’s Discipleship website) that tells the story of the songwriter, Doris Akers. She composed her first song at age 10, and by age 12 had assembled a jazz band, Dot Akers and Her Swingsters. At 22, she moved from Missouri to Los Angeles to make music her profession, working with some of the top names in Gospel music and eventually forming her own groups, the Akers Singers and later the Sky Pilot Choir, the first interracial Gospel choir in Los Angeles.

The story behind “Sweet, Sweet Spirit” is a story of what happened when, in 1962, Akers and the Sky Pilot Choir were praying together in a practice room before heading in to lead the music in a worship service. As Lindsay Terry learned in an interview with Akers years later:

she said to her singers, 'You are not ready to go in.' She didn’t believe they had prayed enough! They were accustomed to spending time with her in prayer before the service, asking God to bless their songs. She said, 'I feel that prayer is more important than great voices.' They had already prayed, but this particular morning she asked them to pray again, and they did so with renewed fervor (Stories Behind 50 Gospel Favorites).

Meanwhile, the pastor of the church was growing impatient, as they couldn’t begin the service until the choir arrived. So, reluctant to end this sweet, Spirit-filled time of prayer, Akers told her choir, “We have to go. I hate to leave this room and I know you hate to leave, but you know we do have to go to the service. But there is such a sweet, sweet Spirit in this place.”

This moment that inspired Akers to compose “Sweet, Sweet Spirit” is one that maybe you can identify with when you reflect back on moments shared together in worship or in fellowship with your friends in Christ. We don’t want the joy of being together in Christ to end, we want it to keep going on forever. The good news is that it can, and it does. While the sweet time spent together in prayer, conversation, service, and worship may end for that moment or that day, these Spirit-filled moments reassure us that we are part of something bigger, something ongoing that binds us all together in the love of Christ..

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

When have you seen the “sweet expressions” of the Spirit in your life recently? How did these interactions with sisters and brothers in Christ encourage you in your faith?

Daily Challenge

Listen to a Gospel choir at Saint John’s Hackney sing “Sweet, Sweet Spirit” and carry this song with you in your heart as you go about the rest of your day.

Read Michael Hawn’s full article on Doris Akers and “Sweet, Sweet Spirit” and reflect on how we connect with God and one another through the gift of music.

The Power of the Eyes – April 12, 2023

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 97, 99; PM Psalm 115; Micah 7:7-15; Acts 3:1-10; John 15:1-11

But as for me, I will look to the Lord,
   I will wait for the God of my salvation;
   my God will hear me.  (Micah 7:7)

When I think about the Old Testament book of Micah, I think of the verse, “[God] has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (6:8)

The minor prophet Micah prophesies during a time when there is much change in the landscape of Israel. The northern kingdom (Samaria) falls in the eighth century BCE; emigrants move southward into Jerusalem, causing change and tension; and, the external forces of Assyria flexing its assumptive muscles of power generate fear and uncertainty. The guidance and encouragement and honesty poured out in these seven brief chapters speak to a community’s struggle with trusting God during tumultuous times, when hope is uncertain and kindness is sparse.

The portion of Micah appointed for today, this Wednesday in the first week of the Easter season, puts a tidy bow at the end of the book. We begin with verse 7, that statement of faithfulness that tethers the people of Israel to their purpose: “But as for me, I will look to the Lord, I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.” The prophet reminds the Israelites to look around and be ready to see God. He calls them to be available for the Lord, who is bringing hope and salvation. I am reminded of the Michael W. Smith song, “Open the Eyes of My Heart, Lord,” a sung prayer asking that we see God’s glory, power, and love – and know God’s love in our words, hearts, and lives. The contemporary Christian song proclaims God as “holy, holy, holy” – in a repeated refrain that invites all to sing along, joining the heavenly proclamation from the commission of Isaiah, in which one seraph called to the other, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” (6:3).

Christians living in this twenty-first century context are only here, living and speaking and wondering about our faith in God, because the eyes of faithful people generations before us were opened to the Lord. They beheld the risen Jesus. They saw him on the morning of the resurrection. They ate with him on the beach. They were healed by him. His disciples invited the lowly and lame to look at them…to make eye contact and have real, dignified connection. The stories of healing and growth and hope followed. And continue today.

Let us fix our eyes upon the God of our salvation, who brings hope and strength and courage into spaces that we think are beyond help. God brings light to the darkness through the gift of the risen Jesus.

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection:

Think about when you are having a conversation in person with someone meaningful to you. What levels of eye contact happen? How important is looking at someone, and being looked at?

Where do you look when you pray? Do you look down, or out a window, or up on the ceiling, or at prayer beads?

Daily Challenge:

Pray the collect (prayer) appointed for today and reflect on the word/phrase that stands out to you: O God, whose blessed Son made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread: Open the eyes of our faith, that we may behold him in all his redeeming work; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

The Belly of the Fish - April 10

Alleluia, Christ is Risen!

I was surprised when I opened the lectionary today, to see the reading from Jonah.  Jonah has run from the Lord’s command, boards a ship with some people headed to Tarshish, and when storms begin to make their trip treacherous, Jonah is cast into the ocean where a large fish swallows him whole, and he remains in the belly for three days and three nights.  Chapter two begins with his prayer in the belly of the fish.  It’s not exactly what I expected to read on the first Monday in the Easter Season!

Today is the season when we celebrate the victory of Christ.  Easter is often filled with beautiful colors, festive shouts and pronouncements of Alleluia, parties, and so much joy.  Jonah’s prayerful crying out in this passage doesn’t seem to capture the joy of Easter. Yet, as I read it this morning, I am more grateful than I realized for this passage showing up.

Jonah is stuck in a belly of a large fish.  He has been saved. He has also been forced to travel where he didn’t want to go, but he also has much more work left to do to share God’s love.  And, I imagine, he isn’t very pleased being in the belly of a fish.   

I love Easter and the joy of it all, and the Victory of God doesn’t mean we are left without the challenges of our life.  The friend with cancer, the aging parent, the challenges of work, all still exist.  We may feel as if we are trapped in a belly of a fish being forced to continue on God’ journey, without the agency or autonomy we so desperately desire.  And…. we have been saved.  Thanks be to God.

Today and tomorrow will bring the same challenges as they always have. Easter doesn’t solve our earthly problems.  But it does promise us there is life on the other side.  And that is Good News. No matter what we face, God will be with us and has promised to deliver us to perfect freedom.  Alleluia, Christ is Risen and you still might feel like you are in the belly of giant fish, trapped in the cycle of the challenges of our earthly life. But that trap might be the very rescue you and I need too.  Thanks be to God.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: What is the “belly of the fish” for you? Are there places in your life you feel trapped or unable to make progress in? How can Easter be Good News?

Daily Challenge: Try praying the Serenity Prayer. It can be found here.

'And yet' - April 7, 2023

Daily Office Readings: AM Psalm 95 & 22; PM Psalm 40:1-14(15-19), 54 ; Wisdom 1:16-2:1,12-22 or Gen. 22:1-14; 1 Peter 1:10-20; John 13:36-38 or John 19:38-42

Good Friday Service Readings: Psalm 22; Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9; John 18:1-19:42

Today’s Reflection

Our Holy Scriptures are full paradox and incongruities. Jesus, the Incarnation of God as a human, is the ultimate study in incongruity. It just doesn’t make sense that the divine would take on human form. To simultaneously be both God and man may even seem, at first thought, ludicrous. And that initial response, that divine and human don’t belong together, that they don’t match up, that it doesn’t make sense, is what should cue us to the fact that the life of Jesus—fully divine and fully human—is significant. The paradox of God deciding to come down and live and die as one of us is a paradox worth noticing and reflecting on. And it is this paradox that we commemorate today, on Good Friday.

When we look back at the Hebrew scriptures, they are full of expectation—they were looking for a Messiah, a Savior. The prophetic literature, most especially, is full of mysterious allusions to an incongruous, paradoxical Messiah. This is what stood out to me as I’ve pondered Isaiah 52 and 53.

At the very beginning of the passage, God, speaking through his prophet Isaiah, declares, “See, my servant shall prosper; he shall be exalted and lifted up, and shall be very high.” Servants, then and now, are people who are either of low status or people who are choosing to lower themselves for the sake of placing others’ needs higher than their own. So, it doesn’t make sense that the servant, someone who is lowly, is “exalted and lifted up.” And so that paradox signals us that something important is going on here with someone lowly who “shall be very high.” Sometimes this pattern of paradox or incongruity is signaled by even the smallest of words. And that is the case in this passage from Isaiah. What stands out most clearly to me, as someone who admittedly is drawn to paradox, is a three-letter word that recurs four times in this passage: and that is the word “yet.”

Listen for the “yet” in these verses: “Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted.” If we read this passage from Isaiah as one that paints a prophetic picture of the Messiah yet to come, we can understand this “yet” passage to be telling us about the paradoxical Messiah we know as Jesus. On the one hand, he is a healer—he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases. And yet he was stricken, struck down, and afflicted. The power of the healing we receive through Jesus comes from the “yet” and also in the word “but”: “But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.” Jesus is, as Henri Nouwen called him, “the wounded healer.” We are healed by Jesus because he was wounded for us: “By his bruises we are healed.”

Listen for the second “yet” in the next set of verses from Isaiah: “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.” Here’s the paradox: In Jesus, the all-powerful, God of all creation allowed himself to be oppressed and afflicted; he did not use his divine power to stop this from happening: “he did not open his mouth.” And not only that, but he didn’t open his mouth even though this oppression and affliction was totally without cause. Another word, “although” stands out as important here, too: “They made his grave with the wicked and his tomb with the rich, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth.” Jesus would be wrongly accused, oppressed all the way to the grave. He was without fault—“yet he did not open his mouth.”

But for what purpose? The third “yet” passage offers us another paradox that answers this question of divine purpose in the suffering and sacrifice of Christ: “Yet it was the will of the LORD to crush him with pain. When you make his life an offering for sin, he shall see his offspring, and shall prolong his days; through him the will of the LORD shall prosper. Out of his anguish he shall see light.” Again, we are presented with another passage that, on surface, does not make sense. Here we see the LORD’s servant crushed with pain and his life made an offering for sin. So how does it make sense that through this “he shall see his offspring, shall prolong his days… and shall prosper”? He’s crushed and sacrificed. So how can he live on into future generations, how can his life and his lineage continue? Through all of his anguish, he shall see not the darkness one would expect—instead “out of his anguish he shall see light.”

The fourth and final “yet” of this prophetic passage offers us still further insight as we continue to wrestle with the stunning paradox of the Messiah whom Isaiah is expecting: “Therefore I will allot him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he poured out himself to death, and was numbered among the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.”

A couple of paradoxes float up to the surface here. First, he has been allotted a portion with the great because he poured out himself to death. Pouring oneself out means that one is giving up all that one has—pouring everything out of himself to the point of death. Nothing is left, everything has been poured out. And yet, “I will allot him a portion with the great and he shall divide the spoil with the strong.” He gave up everything, and so should have no portion or spoil—and yet, God has not left him with nothing.

Second, “he was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.” On Good Friday, we remember how Jesus was wrongly accused and then sent to be punished to death by crucifixion—crucified at Golgotha, the place of the skull, alongside two rightly accused transgressors. He was sentenced to death as a transgressor—though he himself had not transgressed or sinned. And what was Christ’s response to that? To intercede for us sinners—he even interceded for one of the transgressors being crucified alongside him that day.

As John records in the Passion narrative we hear today, on Good Friday, “When Jesus had received the wine, he said, ‘It is finished.’ Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” In this lies the most astonishing paradox of all: How was it possible that Jesus, the Son of God, the creator of all life, could give up his spirit? And, not only do we wonder how it was possible, but you may even be apt to wonder, especially on Good Friday, why was it necessary? C.S. Lewis helps us work through these questions in an essay called “The Perfect Penitent,” in his book Mere Christianity:

But supposing God became a man—suppose our human nature which can suffer and die was amalgamated with God’s nature in one person—then that person could help us. He could surrender His will, and suffer and die, because He was man; and He could do it perfectly because He was God. You and I can go through this process only if God does it in us; but God can only do it if He becomes man. Our attempts at this dying will succeed only if we [humans] share in God’s dying, just as our thinking can succeed only because it is a drop out of the ocean of His intelligence: but we cannot share God’s dying unless God dies; and He cannot die except by being a man. That is the sense in which He pays our debt, and suffers for us what He Himself need not suffer at all" (58).

Dear friends in Christ, when we put our faith in the saving sacrifice of Jesus, we are putting our faith in the most astonishing paradox of all time. What we are remembering on this Good Friday, the Son of God being crucified for our sake, does not make sense—at least not to our human understanding. But therein lies the beauty of Christ’s sacrifice. It doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair. Jesus shouldn’t have suffered for us. And we aren’t deserving of such infinite love and sacrifice.

And yet, “upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.”

Becky+

Moment for Reflection

Take a few minutes to engage with this online exhibition of art and commentary, “Stricken, Smitten, Bruised, and Afflicted,” curated by the Visual Commentary on Scripture in response to Isaiah 53.

Today’s reflection was originally given as a Good Friday sermon in 2021. You can listen to it here.

Hide-and-seek - April 5, 2023

Scripture Readings Appointed for the Wednesday of Holy Week:

AM Psalm 55; PM Psalm 74 ,  Jer. 17:5-10, 14-17; Phil. 4:1-13; John 12:27-36  

Can you remember a time when you played hide-and-seek? When I was seven or eight, I was playing at my friend Egan’s house. We were at her mom’s condo just down the street from my house. At the back of the upstairs playroom, there was a door to the unfinished attic space. It was the best hiding spot. I remember crouching in the dark, holding my knees to my chin, feeling giggles of exhilaration, and wondering if her older brother Jonathan would find me. I crept out of the hiding place and dashed toward home base. Hide-and-seek can be a thrill…when you are the hider.

Being the seeker is a different experience. It can be one of frustration, looking in all of the usual – and unusual – places. Listening for snickers. Scanning for things not in the right place. Reaching into dark corners of closets to make sure someone isn’t behind the baseball bats and overcoats. The seeker can get lonely or bored. The fun can dissipate quickly. And what about parents who become seekers of their children…those mischievous darlings who run off to hide without telling their supervisors? Impromptu seekers inhabit a very different space, frantically searching for hiding children – perhaps in crowds, in libraries, in Target, or on the baseball field. If you have ever been in this position, you know that it is both memorable and not pleasant.

Jesus plays a bit of hide-and-seek at the end of the reading from John 12 today. After his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, with palm branches waving and people shouting “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord – the King of Israel!”, Philip and Andrew bring some Jews over who wanted to meet Jesus. He says that the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Jesus tells those listening that whoever serves him must also follow him; through serving, God the Father will be honored. It is a mini sermon…and a bit abstruse. He continues with a vulnerable, personal musing: “Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say – ‘Father, save me from this hour?’ No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.”

John then reports as the narrator that a voice comes from heaven, sounding like thunder, saying “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” The people are riveted. “An angel has spoken to him,” they say. Jesus responds that the voice was for the sake of those listening. So that they might believe. The conversation continues, with Jesus telling the crowd about his impending death.

The crowd is still hungry to understand and hear from the Messiah. Jesus says, “The light is with you for a little longer. Walk while you have the light, so that the darkness may not overtake you. If you walk in the darkness, you do not know where you are going. While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.”

And then Jesus walks off and hides from them.

Let’s be honest. That is a lot to digest…and as John tells it, Jesus finishes talking, departs, and conceals himself from them.

I can imagine if I was a member of the crowd, I would begin looking for Jesus to ask questions – and maybe the first would be, “Can you please repeat that?” I can think of a myriad of other questions I would pepper at the Messiah during hide-and-seek: Jesus, do you know the darkness that is in my life? Will you please pray for me? What do I do on the days that feel dark and hard and scary? Will you help me face my fears? Will you stay with me until I don’t feel so sad? What does it mean to believe in the light? Can I still believe when I can no longer see the light? Do children of light still have spaces of darkness and uncertainty – and why?

Perhaps you, too, have questions of faith and life that bubble up in your hide-and-seek moments with God. The Good News is that Jesus did not hide forever. He did not die forever. Rather, he defeated death by rising from the grave. It is that movement from cross to grave to eternal life that we remember in these days of Holy Week. I hope you will join us at Saint Stephen’s for the Triduum – the three days of worship from sundown on Maundy Thursday, to Good Friday, to the Easter Vigil on Saturday, and then Sunday morning. It will be a faith-filled time and I look forward to seeing you. 

Katherine+

Challenge and Self-Reflection:

 Think about the ways that you hide today. What about yourself do you hide? Who knows those things? How do you come to spaces to share with those you trust?

 Think about how you seek out others - for connection, for joy, for recreation. Who will you connect with this week? What truth will you seek?

'Who will separate us?' - March 24

Note: Next week we will not be posting Daily Reflections due to Spring Break. However, online Morning Prayer will continue as usual at 8:30 a.m. each day. You may find the lectionary readings for Morning Prayer each day here: http://satucket.com/lectionary/1Lent5.htm

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 95* & 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; Jer. 23:1-8; Rom. 8:28-39; John 6:52-59

Today’s Reflection

This week, some have reflected on the fact that we are three years out from the beginning of the COVID pandemic in the United States. As we read Paul’s words of encouragement to the Romans today (Romans 8:28-39), we can look back on all the changes and challenges of the past three years and feel encouraged that, through it all, we can trust that “all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose.”

Those words, while encouraging, can also be a bit disconcerting in that, when we are going through a challenging time, we may struggle to see how it is working for our good or for the good of those we love. Paul isn’t saying that we won’t go through hard things—in fact, he acknowledges several very hard things that followers of Christ, across time and place, experience: “hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword.” His point is that, when we do face struggles of many kinds, “It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us” (8:34). When we experience hard things, we can find comfort and strength in knowing that Christ, sitting at the right hand of God, intercedes for us.

Three years ago this week is a time full of intense memories. My daughters’ spring break was the week before, but since I could not take off from work that week, we had sent them off on a plane to Florida, where they would spend the week with my parents. I planned to join them at the end of their time there, and then as the reality of the pandemic set in, the schools extended their break for another week. While flying on a plane was beginning to be seen as a risky endeavor, I decided to fly on to Florida anyway with the plan that we would all return home to Texas at the end of the week.

While it was pleasant to be back in sunny Florida, seeing my parents and revisiting favorite places with my daughters, my hopes for reuniting with friends over lunch or dinner were quickly canceled. We could still enjoy outdoor places, but even a dash into Publix for a few items to take back to my parents’ home was stressful, as people were crowding into stores to stock up as if a hurricane were on the way. Then, the day after arriving in Florida, I learned that I may have been exposed to COVID the day before my trip, and that the person would learn whether or not their illness was COVID sometime later in the week. I decided not to tell my daughters or parents quite yet, as there was nothing I could do to change the fact that I may have already exposed them to it. By that Thursday, we learned that I had been exposed to COVID back in Texas, so we would need to quarantine for 14 days—a protocol that seems very familiar to us now, but was still very scary and new to us then.

As Paul wrote, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (8:35, 37-39). I like what Michael Gorman, a scholar of Paul’s letters, observes about this language of being more than conquerors: “Paul’s attitude was that those in Christ ‘hyper-conquer’ (Gk. hypernikao) in the midst of suffering because they know God’s love and possess a sure hope as they suffer. Therefore, nothing in all creation… can separate believers from God’s love and purpose in Christ for his children” (Gorman, Apostle of the Crucified Lord, 378). Nothing, not even a global pandemic—or whatever seems to us at the time like the worst possible circumstances—can separate us from the love of Christ. That is a truth we can always hold onto and take comfort in.

Becky+

Questions for Self-Reflection

Recall a time when you felt overwhelmed by what life was throwing at you. How did you keep going and conquer it? Who offered you support and love? Looking back, can you see the evidence of God’s presence with you more clearly now?

Daily Challenge

To reflect further on how Romans 8 can help us think through the spiritual implications of the pandemic, read this interview with New Testament scholar, N.T. Wright.