Jesus, our gate and guide - January 3, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 68; PM Psalm 72; Gen. 28:10-22; Heb. 11:13-22; John 10:7-17

Happy tenth day of Christmas! In our house, Christmas gifts still bear their twinkling sheen, though our kids are squabbling about how they are to go about sharing. We have finally cleared our refrigerator of leftovers. Sam has gone away for a couple of days on a writing retreat. The exact day feels blurry, as school doesn’t resume until Tuesday. There are many thank you notes to write…and amid sweeping the floor, answering emails, and running errands, I have fleeting thoughts of gratitude for the love and generosity of beloved family and friends.

How about you? Are you still feeling the joy of this Christmas season, for which we prepared during the four weeks of Advent? I hope so. It is more likely, however, that you may have some degree of feeling overwhelmed, isolated, or exhausted. Maybe you are feeling blue that the crescendo of Christmas is past, leaving you let down and lost. Perhaps you are grieving that someone close to you acted like an imperfect human being again, reopening spaces of pain and disappointment.

No matter where you and I find ourselves in the chaos of the world right now, today’s gospel (John 10:7-17) brings us back to center: Jesus tells us that he is the gate for the us, the sheep walking through life. When we focus on Jesus as our directional guide, we will receive salvation and find a space of spiritual nurture and fulfillment. As the gospel imparts, Jesus as the gate does not seek to trick or trap. Jesus as the gate offers freedom and hope. He is not into “gotcha” scenarios, but continues to preach the redeeming, unrelenting love of God: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

Let us ponder the joy extended to us when we open our hearts to welcome Jesus. While it is easy to hold the image of the tender baby Christ lying upon the hay in our minds, today I invite you to meditate on Jesus the good and virtuous shepherd, leading us toward the protection and promise of green pastures. Let Jesus’ unwavering care and guidance mingle with Christmas joy as you wander through this day.

In the joy of the Son through Christmastide,

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection and Daily Challenge:

 Jesus says that the sheep do not listen to the thieves and bandits that came before him. The sheep do listen to Jesus, though. What are you doing today to listen for the Good Shepherd calling for and guiding you? What distractions are in the way?

Jesus our Gate and Guide - January 3, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 68; PM Psalm 72; Gen. 28:10-22; Heb. 11:13-22; John 10:7-17

Happy tenth day of Christmas! In our house, Christmas gifts still bear their twinkling sheen, though our kids are squabbling about how they are to go about sharing. We have finally cleared our refrigerator of leftovers. Sam has gone away for a couple of days on a writing retreat. The exact day feels blurry, as school doesn’t resume until Tuesday. There are many thank you notes to write…and amid sweeping the floor, answering emails, and running errands, I have fleeting thoughts of gratitude for the love and generosity of beloved family and friends.

How about you? Are you still feeling the joy of this Christmas season, for which we prepared during the four weeks of Advent? I hope so. It is more likely, however, that you may have some degree of feeling overwhelmed, isolated, or exhausted. Maybe you are feeling blue that the crescendo of Christmas is past, leaving you let down and lost. Perhaps you are grieving that someone close to you acted like an imperfect human being again, reopening spaces of pain and disappointment.

No matter where you and I find ourselves in the chaos of the world right now, today’s gospel (John 10:7-17) brings us back to center: Jesus tells us that he is the gate for the us, the sheep walking through life. When we focus on Jesus as our directional guide, we will receive salvation and find a space of spiritual nurture and fulfillment. As the gospel imparts, Jesus as the gate does not seek to trick or trap. Jesus as the gate offers freedom and hope. He is not into “gotcha” scenarios, but continues to preach the redeeming, unrelenting love of God: “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

Let us ponder the joy extended to us when we open our hearts to welcome Jesus. While it is easy to hold the image of the tender baby Christ lying upon the hay in our minds, today I invite you to meditate on Jesus the good and virtuous shepherd, leading us toward the protection and promise of green pastures. Let Jesus’ unwavering care and guidance mingle with Christmas joy as you wander through this day.

In the joy of the Son through Christmastide,

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection and Daily Challenge:

Jesus says that the sheep do not listen to the thieves and bandits that came before him. The sheep do listen to Jesus, though. What are you doing today to listen for the Good Shepherd calling for and guiding you? What distractions are in the way?

Do Not Be Afraid

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 20, 21:1-7(8-14); Isa 25:1-9; Rev. 1:9-20; John 7:53-8:11

The reading from Revelation for today, reminds me of trying to teach a class on Revelation. I never knew so many people took this book of the bible literally. It was a learning adventure for all of us and I grew to love Revelation as never before. Primarily because I don’t think I had ever tried to look at these verses from so many different perspectives. I don’t think I had seriously tried to delve into the layers of meaning that are so carefully crafted together, creating one of the most ominous and beautifully mysterious books of the bible.

As I read these verses today, I’m comforted, perhaps more than I expected. I’m comforted because this is the apocalypse that is being described, the second coming of which we preached and read throughout Advent. What strikes me is that Jesus reaches out, touches the narrator who has apparently fainted in fear and says, “Do not be afraid, . . . I was dead, and see, I am alive for ever and ever.”

Do not be afraid. How many times have we needed to hear that? How many times have we been afraid and felt alone, deep in grief or worry and needed someone to reach out and touch us, to let us know all will be well. That is what this is for me. That is what Saint Stephen’s has become for me.

As I begin to write this, I suddenly became aware of how quiet my house is. We have had family here for several days and today is the first in a while when I’ve had the house all to myself with the exception of my constant companion, Maddie our Lab. This brief reprieve has given me time to reflect on these past few months. I began at Saint Stephen’s on May 1st, almost eight months ago. I’ve said many times, it’s been like drinking from a fire hose. I’ve learned so much and been stretched in good, creative, affirming ways. It’s been the sweetest, most fun part of my life as a priest thus far, and I feel honored every day when I wake-up knowing Saint Stephen’s is my new church home. The friendships and love I’ve received have felt like someone reaching out and saying, “All will be well, you’re not alone, do not be afraid.”

As we look to the Second coming, this is what we can look forward to, a homecoming without fear, a release from constraints and a newness of spirit. This is what Jesus came to tell us and what we refused to hear, but what he continues to say, never giving up on us, never leaving us alone.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection: Where do you feel closest to Christ? Where do feel most loved, most at home? Give thanks to God for those feelings and spread that love, that warmth each day as you go our into our broken world.

Welcoming the Stranger

Today’s Readings

Last Thursday night I attended a memorial service for one of my youngest son’s friends. Sawyer and Sudi Varadan became friends while at John Carroll Catholic High School. Last summer Sudi suffered a brain aneurism and was declared brain dead. His parents left their home in Malaysia and got to Birmingham as soon as possible.

His friends began keeping vigil at the hospital. Sister Mary Patrick, who teaches at John Carroll was there almost every day. Some of the students asked Sister what would happen to Sudi if he died? Should he be baptized? You see Sudi was a practicing Hindu.

As days turned into weeks, his parents refused to give up hope. Sudi’s mom told Sister, “We don’t care which God you pray to, just pray.” Eventually his parents were able to have Sudi transported back to Malaysia, where he remained on life support until a few weeks ago, when his body could go on no longer.

At the memorial service Sister Mary Patrick addressed the questions about Sudi’s faith. She told the group who had gathered not to worry, Sudi had been a wonderful, kind, caring human being and that he was a beloved child of God. She believed that we would all see Sudi again when we were called home. It was a moving moment of acceptance and grace.

One of the students spoke about how unlikely it must have seemed that two people so different, different faiths, cultures, languages could become such good friends, brothers with different mothers. In today’s reading from Isaiah, the prophet describes a time when differences will fall away and those who are completely different, creatures considered so different they could never be allies, will live in peace with one another. What I witnessed among those students was a spirit that united them as one gathered body of Christ, all God’s children. Their faith spoke volumes of their desire to live in peace, to show hospitality to the stranger, to love first, and discuss differences later.

Jesus came to testify to a truth greater than any man had ever spoken, to complete the works of God the Father. He came so that we might know the infinite love and healing presence of God. He brought a light that illuminates the darkest of nights and the most difficult situations so that we might know the power of hope. Those young people held the light of hope for Sudi’s parents, and for one another. As we approach the end of Advent and the glory of the incarnation, I pray that we might each carry the light of Christ into the dark,  a torch of hope for all to see.

Questions for Reflection: How might you welcome the stranger? Can you think of someone you can reach out to, spreading the light of hope? 

Waiting in wonder – December 20, 2024

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51
Isa. 10:5-19; 2 Pet. 2:17-22; Matt. 11:2-15

Advent is a time of waiting. It is a time when we are unsettled where we are. The future is not here … and we are trying to get ready for what comes next. Nine years ago, I was waiting. I had just finished exams in my third semester in seminary…and my son was due any day. Sam and I waited and waited. We knew his arrival was imminent, but the question was when. And Christmas was merely days away. Did we have all the gifts ready? Family was coming in town…was all set? It was exciting and exhausting. And as it would happen, our son Robinson was born on the third day of Christmas.

In the gospel reading appointed for today, John the Baptizer is in prison and hears what Jesus is doing to heal and feed and teach across the land. He sends a message to Jesus asking, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” John is in a holding pen, waiting in anticipation. He seeks an answer, to make sure he is looking in the right direction. He is ensuring he is aligned properly. Jesus delivers: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me.”

In our waiting, sometimes it is important to voice our wonderings, our fears, and our uncertainties, as John did, to make sure we are on the right track. So, lift your prayers to God, talk with a trusted friend, or sit in meditative silence to slow down and get still for a moment. The Holy Spirit will nourish you in meaningful ways as you wait.

In Advent hope,

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection and Daily Challenge:

How is your Advent spirituality meter going near the end of this third week in the season? Try to seek a space of stillness and peace for ten minutes today. Breathe deeply and be present with yourself - and God will be there, too.

An Unexpected Visitor - December 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; Isa. 9:8-17; 2 Pet. 2:1-10a; Mark 1:1-8

John the Baptist keeps showing up in Advent. We encounter him again today in the Daily Office readings. He’s intense, to say the least—I even preached about him this past Sunday. I wanted to share the image I used in sermon because the community that engages with our Daily Reflections is much larger than our gathered worshiping community.

Here we are once again, face-to-face with this wild, locust-eating prophet. I often imagine John as the kind of person your daughter might bring home from college: unconventional, unsettling, and impossible to ignore. He’s not someone you want crashing your cherished holiday traditions, but you also know that rejecting him outright will only make your daughter defend him all the more. So, you have no choice but to take him seriously.

We, too, must take John seriously. His message—a call to repentance and recognition of the brokenness within ourselves and the world we’ve inherited—is an essential part of preparing for the kingdom of God. It demands that we stand in the light of truth, even when that light reveals parts of ourselves we’d rather keep hidden.

Today’s reading doesn’t quite bring us to the point we reached on Sunday, but it still offers an uncomfortable encounter with someone we might see as uncouth or unwelcome. And yet, maybe that’s precisely the point. In the midst of this busy and often chaotic season, John the Baptist invites us to be open—open to hearing God’s voice in the most unlikely of places, and through the most unexpected people.

Maybe John unsettles us because he reminds us that God doesn’t always come as we expect—wrapped neatly in beauty, comfort, or sentimentality. Instead, God comes through the raw, the unpolished, and the inconvenient, speaking truths we’d rather not hear. John’s wild voice cries out not to condemn, but to prepare; not to shame, but to awaken. He stands at the edge of our lives like a threshold we must cross, reminding us that God’s arrival rarely fits neatly into our plans.

So perhaps the challenge for us this Advent is to let ourselves be disrupted. To lean into the discomfort John brings, because on the other side of that discomfort lies transformation. In the unexpected, in the unsettling, in the voice crying from the wilderness, we might just find that God is closer than we ever imagined.

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where do you hear the voice of John the Baptist in your life?  What are the challenging voices that deepen your Advent season?

Wading Knee Deep into Advent

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; Isa. 8:16-9:1; 2 Pet. 1:1-11; Luke 22:39-53

These last several days I’ve been preparing to preach at the Longest Night Service, this Wednesday at 6:30 p.m. The Longest Night is a service in which we recognize that this time of the year is hard, not because we take on too much, buy too much or eat too much, but because we’re reminded of those we’ve loved and lost, of those times we regret or the shame we continue to carry with us. It can be a time when we are most aware that we’re alone or that we’re separated from people we care about. This time of the year seems to demand that we be jolly, happily attending holiday parties and if we’ve been blue or had a recent loss well it’s time to move on. The thing is grief, shame and depression are three emotions that demand our attention when and where they want it. There’s no time limit, they don’t expire and like visitors, sometimes they stay too long. We don’t have much control if any on how or when one of these may decide to visit us.

If you think about it, all of these difficult feelings are present all year long, it’s just that when the rest of the world is declaring, “it’s the most wonderful time of the year,” Christmas can be a bitter pill to swallow.

It’s such a shame too. What a lovely incredible event this holiday is manufactured around. That’s just it - It’s been manufactured. God became incarnate as the son of man, so that God might dwell with us, bringing hope and light to a world that so desperately needs it. God probably knew we’d mess this perfect, amazing event up and true to form we have. The problem is once you’ve let the proverbial cows out of the barn it’s hard to get them back in. It’s hard, but not impossible.

We are wading knee deep into Advent. That time in the church year that presents a tension between judgement and hope, between the not yet and the almost. In the Gospel from Luke for today Jesus earnestly prays to God that he be spared this cup he knows he must drink. He’s no different from us. Like us as he looks into the dark night sky, he feels fear and loneliness and like us he’d trade it if possible.

Knowing that there is hope on the horizon and actually believing it are not always the same. In the dark cold night, a star appeared to shepherds, and they followed it finding the most amazing precious treasure of their lives. We too can find that treasure. We have to stay awake though, watching for the light and hope that sparkles ever so quietly in the darkness of our fears. We have to open our hearts to the possibilities that Christ can bring. Have faith, hold fast to what you know to be true, and, most importantly, never lose hope. May God bless you and keep you through these long nights and “May grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord” 2 Peter 1:1-11.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection: What if in our darkest places we tried to be more present to Christ, or as he asked his disciples in the garden, what if we stayed “awake” with him and prayed more? What if we focused on the gift Christ is to us and give ourselves, our presence, our time as a gift to others?

Already, not yet - December 13, 2024

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35
Isa. 7:10-25; 2 Thess. 2:13-3:5; Luke 22:14-30

In high school, I read T.H. White’s book The Once and Future King. I loved reading these stories about the legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. The dark and light, complex and tragic characters stuck with me. I longed for happy endings and clear lines of resolution in these sagas, but like real life, human interactions are messy. Often, grace and beauty are followed by disappointment and betrayal.

This dynamic is not far from our gospel reading appointed for today in Luke 22, in which we read of Jesus’ celebration of the Passover with the disciples. He says that he has “eagerly desired” to share this special time with his friends before hard things follow. Jesus takes a cup, gives thanks to God, and says, “Take this and divide it among yourselves…” (v. 17). He takes a loaf of bread and gives thanks to God. He breaks the bread and distributes a piece of blessed sustenance to each disciple with the words, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” (v. 19) This feels beautiful and hopeful – nurture for spirit and community through blessing and shared experience.

What follows is the foretelling of brokenness – “But see, the one who betrays me is with me, and his hand is on the table…” Jesus is not surprised, but the disciples are horrified. Then, other discord arises about who is the best disciple of all. These men get a little love in their hearts and bellies in honor and remembrance of Christ, and then they return to their normal existences. Their memories are quickly wiped clear as they turn their backs upon that sacred meal which they’ve just experienced.

Have you ever had this happen on the heels of a meaningful space of worship? Moments after leaving the church parking lot, tension wells up within us about a driver on the road, a loved one in our life, or some other entity in which there is difference or dissention. The grace of Jesus’ reconciling love is upon us, and yet it is not fully complete within us. It is here already, and not finished. This is part of the mystery and tension of the Advent season: the Messiah has come into the world already and his second coming is not yet here. The Kingdom of God has been brought into our awareness in Jesus, and that work is not yet fulfilled. Already, not yet.

Join with me as we keep praying, “O come, O come, Emmanuel!” Join me as we keep returning to God in this time when tensions run high and it feels that there is not enough time, energy, money, or faith to face all that is in front of us. Join me at church this Sunday as we ask the Holy Spirit to stir up our church and our hearts. It is a joyously risky and serious thing we do as Christians, letting the light of the Lord guide our steps. I am grateful to do this in community with you.

In Advent hope,

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection and Daily Challenge:

How is your Advent spirituality meter going? Have you found a discipline that nourishes you? If so, super!  

If not, worry not. Keep showing up. God is faithful. God's work of preparing you and me is not yet complete.

To Pray with Others - December 11

This week’s readings: AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48; Isa. 6:1-13; 2 Thess. 1:1-12; John 7:53-8:11

“To this end, we always pray for you, asking that our God will make you worthy of His call and will fulfill by His power every good resolve and work of faith, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in Him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.” – 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12

As I reflected on this Scripture today, I had a realization that stirred something within me. It’s a thought I feel compelled to share, hoping it might resonate with you and spark some reflection.

When I meet with people or have conversations about faith, I often find myself helping others see their journey through a reflective lens—supporting them as they grow closer to God. In those moments, I feel as though I am living into Paul’s prayer, walking alongside others and helping them deepen their faith. And often, I discover that my own faith is strengthened in the process.

This practice is meaningful and worthwhile, but what if this passage from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians offers a broader vision? What if it’s not just about praying for individuals, but about cultivating a community where we pray with and for one another? What if, instead of starting with the question, “How can I pray for you?” we asked, “Who can we pray for together?”

As I consider this, I wonder: What would happen if, as a priest and a fellow disciple, I invited people to join me in praying for those who weigh heavily on their hearts, rather than focusing solely on their personal needs? Would we not then become co-laborers in God’s work of healing and wholeness?

Paul and the early Christians modeled this beautifully, praying continuously for others and for the communities they loved. It wasn’t prayer as an individual act but a shared expression of love and intercession. What if we embraced this more fully?

Here’s an idea to ponder: Think of those you regularly pray for—friends, family, loved ones. What if you invited them to join you in praying for the burdens on their hearts? Could this shift create a deeper connection to God’s transformative love and an even greater outpouring of grace?

It’s a subtle change, but perhaps one that could deepen our faith and draw us closer to the heart of God’s mission in the world.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: How do you pray for others? How do you pray with others? Other than church, what are ways you could deepen your practice?

Be Patient: All will be Well

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 25;  Isa. 5:8-12,18-23; 1 Thess. 5:1-11; Luke 21:20-28

Every so often God does this amazing thing – God shakes me, and I hear in a strong loud voice, “Wake Up!” It happens when I least expect it but seemingly when I most need it. This morning was one of those times. I was catching up on my email and if I’m honest feeling sorry for myself. I’ve had a cold, my house is a wreck and then I read John’s Reflection from Wednesday, Dec. 4th. His message reminded me of how important it is to be intentional. Not just in our faith practices but in all aspects of our lives. Being intentional to thank those we care about for loving us, being intentional to thank the mail carrier, your favorite barista, because of course everyone should be on a first name basis with their barista!  Being intentional to notice when we are short with someone or when we need to slow down and pay attention to where God is showing up in our lives. And not just at this time of the year but all year long. We seem to think that as we enter Advent our expressions of thanks or love should be wrapped in red ribbons and left under the tree or on someone’s doorstep, when in actuality, we could simply take time all year long to be intentionally gracious and patient, kind and present to those around us.

Our readings for today are foreboding. That’s what Apocalyptic literature can be like. However, they never leave us without a reminder that there is a light in the darkness, that hope travels through the murkiest and darkest of days and nights in our lives. The death of a child, a broken relationship, the grief that comes this time of the year - just because it can; all these things can undermine our patience with God and our hope in the ultimate coming of Christ. They can suck all the air out of our lungs and feel as though their weight will crush us. However, if we can cast our eyes on the light in the distance, on the Christ child that will come bearing a light that can never be extinguished, and with a deep abiding gratitude, we just might find a sense of peace in the midst of the chaos our culture encourages. 

The image of “the Son of Man coming in a cloud,” may seem frightening but never forget this is someone we know and know loves us. That is the one thing for which we can always be grateful. Gratitude in the midst of pain, exhaustion or intense grief may seem impossible but in those moments gratitude can have the power of transforming even the darkest of nights. 

 So, as you look at the endless list of things that need to be done, and stare into the taillights of 100s of cars who seem to be purposely preventing you from getting to your destination, try to think of just one person, one event, one moment in your life that you love, for which you’re grateful.  Then remind yourself to be patient, that eventually, in God’s time, “all will be well.” 

 Faithfully,

 Sally+

Reflection and Challenge:  Being grateful and telling someone are two different things. Challenge yourself to begin each day with a list of people and things in your life for which you are going to acknowledge your gratitude. And then every day thereafter, at the end of the day say thanks for those people, those moments. 

Weary yet hopeful - December 6, 2024

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 22; Isa. 3:8-15; 1 Thess. 4:1-12; Luke 20:41-21:4

For this season of preparation, Kate Bowler has released an Advent daily devotional called “The Weary World Rejoices”. The title tickled my memory and stirred a tune that would play in our house when I was a kid this time of year. Bing Crosby’s recording of “O Holy Night” was included in an album of Christmas standards. It is in his timbre that I hear the lyrics:

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

What a weary world we find ourselves in. You and I can each name where fear, tension, loss, chaos, and war touch our lives. We yearn for restoration and healing in our hearts and in spaces torn by violence and angst. And we are not alone. People across time have echoed similar prayers and looked with hope to God. The prophet Jeremiah tells us, “The days are coming,” declares the Lord, “when I will fulfill the good promise I made to the people of Israel and Judah. In those days and at that time I will make a righteous Branch sprout from David’s line; he will do what is just and right in the land. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. This is the name by which it will be called: The Lord Our Righteous Savior.” (33:14-16)

In the gospel according to Luke, we read the nativity story of the good promise of hope to come in a newborn baby who is to be named Jesus. In Bowler’s Advent series, she brings readers through a reflection upon the good promises of truth, compassion, restoration, and justice – grounded in the life and ministry of Jesus. And those qualities did not end at the death of the Messiah; in resurrection hope, truth, compassion, restoration, and justice bubble up in our lives, as we inch our way into the “days that are coming.” The promise of the return of Jesus is not yet completed…and so we are in the middle-time. Holding on to hope is hard when the waiting feels interminable.

And so, we lift our voices in honest prayer. We name the truth that we are both hopeful and weary. And we look for the new and glorious morn that is promised to break forth. Let us fall on our knees and listen for the angelic voices calling us to not be afraid, for nothing is impossible with God.

In Advent hope,

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection and Daily Challenge:

This is the day in the church when Saint Nicholas of Myra is remembered. Take a moment to read more about his ministry and legacy. While we see the influence of St. Nick blend into our cultural presence of Santa Claus, may the faithfulness of the real Nicholas inspire you to stay compassionate and connected to those in need, for paying attention to the least of these is at the heart of Christian love.

Intentionality for Advent - December 4

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14
Isa. 2:1-11; 1 Thess. 2:13-20; Luke 20:19-26

This Advent season is an opportunity to reflect on how we live our lives—specifically, how we might live in a way that allows us to receive the kingdom of God. The prophet Isaiah offers the house of Jacob a new way to live, proclaiming, “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!” It’s an invitation to embrace a different way of life so that God’s people may inherit a new kingdom.

Recently, I’ve had an interesting experience. I’ve been playing a lot of music, mostly with a trio consisting of bass, drums, and piano. In this group, I usually play the melody and, for now, I’m the only one willing to sing—which has been a huge stretch for me. We’ve been practicing for a few months, preparing for an upcoming gig, which includes a couple of cover songs.

Until a few days ago, I assumed that simply playing a song over and over would help me memorize the lyrics. But the words wouldn’t stick—not even the lyrics to the songs I’ve written! It’s the most bizarre thing: I can preach an entire sermon almost verbatim, multiple times, without a script, but I can’t seem to learn a song’s lyrics even after singing it a hundred times.

So, I decided to sit down and spend an hour learning the lyrics, line by line. I had to be intentional about it, and I’ve had to practice every day to get the words down for six or seven songs I’ll perform this Saturday night (including songs I wrote!). Here’s the insight I’ve gained: this same principle might apply to our faith lives.

While I deeply believe that worship shapes our Christian life (this is the foundation of our theology of worship), simply going through the motions isn’t the same as actively engaging in the kind of reflection and action that renew our commitment to grow in the knowledge and love of the Lord. Faith isn’t just about repetition—growth includes intentionality.

Isaiah’s words, “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!” remind us that faith is not about doing things as we’ve always done them. It’s about setting aside time to intentionally reflect on who we are and who we are becoming. I’m praying that this Advent will be deeply meaningful and transformative for you. What might that look like in your life?

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where are some areas you have just been “singing” the song and not trying to learn the lyrics?  How can you deepen your practices to grow in your faith?

A Fresh Look

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; Isa. 1:10-20; 1 Thess. 1:1-10; Luke 20:1-8

During my seminary experience at Sewanee, I encountered a method of teaching known as the Socratic method. None of my professors during my undergraduate education in Fine Arts had used this technique. At first it was confusing. I had grown accustomed to lectures, taking notes and pretty much being spoon fed what I needed to learn. This was the way I thought teachers always taught. Something that became clear very quickly was that the Socratic method was a lot more fun. The Socratic method is based on the teaching style of the Greek philosopher Socrates, who believed that questioning could help students “logically examine and validate ideas.” It involves the teacher asking open ended questions, and rather than providing all the information the teacher serves as a guide, through which the students are encouraged to ask their own questions, debate and analyze the information, before coming to their own conclusions. My mother wouldn’t have been surprised that this was something I enjoyed. She had told me growing up that I’d argue with a brick wall, and of course I immediately told her I wouldn’t!

I like to ask questions and I like being allowed to explore something before I draw my own conclusions. Along the way, there’ve been many times when I drew an inaccurate conclusion or I came up empty handed, but the act of wrestling with the information and becoming engaged in the process is an act of learning in itself.

In today’s gospel from Luke, Jesus’s authority is challenged by the chief priests and scribes of the temple. When they question him, rather than provide a straightforward answer he answers with another question. This pattern of answering a question with another question was known in the Hellenistic world but it was also used by the Rabbis. It was very similar to what I know as the Socratic method. It would have been familiar to the priests and insulting at the same time. Jesus outdoes them time and time again, which had to be infuriating. What they fail to realize is that there is much for them to learn from this young rabbi. Instead, their resentment grows and they turn a deaf ear to the wisdom he tries to share. Eventually, they force Jesus into an admission that his authority comes from God, which in the end is the bullet that takes him down.

We could take a lesson from the priests and the scribes. Too often we think we already understand and know what it is Jesus is telling us, but by taking a fresh look at the readings each week we may just realize there's a lot there still to be discovered.

Faithfully,

Sally+

 Reflection and Challenge - Advent brings a new year. Take time to look at life with fresh eyes, for the gifts from God, for the new beginnings, for signs the Messiah is on his way.

Changing Vantage Points - November 27

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:145-176; PM Psalm 128, 129, 130; Zech. 12:1-10; Eph. 1:3-14; Luke 19:1-10

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and while I would normally take today off, I missed writing last week due to several evening events. I wanted to take this opportunity to express my gratitude for this Daily Faith community. It means so much to us at Saint Stephen’s that you take the time to read these reflections. I pray that your faith, your call to love as Jesus invites us to, and your overall well-being are deepened through reflecting on scripture. Your commitment to reading is what inspires us to write, and in this shared journey, we grow together in faith. It’s a symbiotic relationship, and I’m especially grateful for it this Thanksgiving week.

Today’s reading touches on a similar theme. In the Gospel, we meet Zacchaeus, whose view of Jesus is blocked by the crowd. Determined, Zacchaeus runs ahead and climbs a sycamore tree to see Him. The NRSV translation describes his motivation: “He wanted to see who Jesus was,” suggesting that Zacchaeus lacked both a relationship with Jesus and any real understanding of Him. 

When Zacchaeus finally sees Jesus, something remarkable happens. Jesus stops, calls him by name, and offers Zacchaeus an opportunity to provide Him with hospitality. This story fascinates me for two reasons. First, Zacchaeus is hindered from knowing Jesus by the crowd. Second, he must change his perspective—perhaps even face discomfort—to discover where God is calling him.

This leads to some important questions: How does "the crowd" prevent us from truly knowing God? This question has many layers and is worth exploring on your own. Additionally, how can we position ourselves to see God differently? It might involve doing something unfamiliar, spending time with people we usually avoid, or stepping out of our comfort zones.

To see Jesus, Zacchaeus had to shift his position and perspective. Similarly, we might need to change where we stand—physically, emotionally, or spiritually—to recognize God’s presence.

These metaphors are subtle yet rich with meaning. In this especially precarious time when God’s presence might feel elusive, it’s worth remembering: God is always present. Sometimes, we just need to move to a new vantage point to see clearly.

Faithfully,

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  This reflection in particular is especially nuanced.   What was the crowd for you in this story?  What served as the tree?  How can you change your vantage point?

An Instrument of Peace

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 106:1-18;  Zech. 10:1-12; Gal. 6:1-10; Luke 18:15-30

This past Saturday I went to a pre-Advent retreat presented by Scott Stoner, the founder and executive director of the Living Compass, a center that encourages and nurtures spiritual growth. The theme for the morning was peace, a deeper peace than the kind we find as we catch our breath on a busy day. Rather peace that comes from within Christ. Peace that can only be found in the kingdom of God that Jesus came to bring to fruition. The kind of peace that abides no injustice, or cruelty. The kind of peace that outreaches our thoughts, words, and deeds that so often we find in  our confessions on Sunday mornings. 

The gospel for today features Jesus offering several ways that we can enter the kingdom of God or eternal life. As an innocent child, who has yet to be tainted by false values, who faces the world with a sense of wonder and delight, with a sense of joy. As a wealthy ruler who had been faithful to the torah all his life but was faced with choosing between his material goods and a life that offered more joy than any amount of possessions can provide. Or, the disciples who left family and friends, jobs, and homes behind to follow Jesus, an itinerant preacher with a modest pedigree. What all of these examples have in common is they are all seeking the mystery of Christ, to be close to Jesus, to the Messiah, to have a relationship that is unvarnished by worldly values even though they do not fully understand why. 

 During Scott’s talk he said, whatever we pay attention to is what will grow.  As we enter the season of Advent, the time in the church year when we wait with anticipation for the second coming of the Christ, the Messiah, perhaps we can consider what it is we pay attention to in our lives. Are we focusing on the joy that a simple quiet few minutes of prayer and reflection can bring? Can we approach this time of anticipation with the wonder of a child, or with the deep desire of someone who seeks to simply life’s complications which tend to be barriers to the pathways that lead to Christ?  Can we be attentive to those choices we make and intentionally choose the peace that comes from Christ? Can we seek ways to be an instrument of peace as we walk the path of peace that leads to Christ?

Faithfully,

 Sally+

Questions for Reflection: Have you considered how you might prepare for the Second Coming of Christ? What might you simplify? How might you find time to notice the ways Christ is inviting us to prayer and quiet listening? 

Endurance – November 22, 2024

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; Mal. 3:1-12; James 5:7-12; Luke 18:1-8

A couple of years ago, we went to Dollywood during the week of Thanksgiving. Over six million lights adorned the theme park, sparkling in anticipation of Christmas cheer. Our daughter wanted to ride some rollercoasters, and Sam happily took her on one. As we walked further in the park, there was another mid-level coaster that she wanted to try. I agreed to take her on the twisty-turvy Fire Chaser Express. After a long wait, we finally boarded, and wow! A bell rang and the coaster launched from the barn.

I was terrified! I think I screamed. I know I closed my eyes. As the car careened left and right around the track, I recall groaning involuntarily. Maybe I laughed some – that awkward laughter that bursts forth when we don’t know what else to do. I braced myself, for I knew that it would cease in about two minutes. And Josephine was next to me, having a grand time.

I recall that ride when it feels like spaces in life are way out of my control – and all I know to do is brace myself. Breathing in, breathing out, I slow down as I can. The storm will pass, and I am not apart from God in those harrowing moments. The word in my prayers the last few weeks has been endurance - the capacity to get through difficulty or to withstand “wear and tear”. We all have those areas of our lives that feel stressful and disconcerting. Like me, do you wonder when resolution will come about and what your role can be in this process?

In the Letter of James this morning, words of encouragement are offered: “Be patient, therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. The farmer waits for the precious crop from the earth, being patient with it until it receives the early and the late rains. You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near.” (5:7-8) The Greek word for “patient” is literally translated as “long-spirited”; I love the image of having a long fuse of spirit and faith.

This next part of the scripture is important to not miss: “Beloved, do not grumble against one another, so that you may not be judged…Indeed we call blessed those who showed endurance. You have heard of the endurance of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful.” (v. 9a, 11) As siblings in Christ and children of God, our challenge is to build up one another in stressful moments, rather than back-biting, groaning, and complaining against one another. As such, we channel our energies into the purpose of perseverance.

We don’t always know how long hardship will be upon us. We do not know when the Lord is returning. Holy Scripture reminds us that until the return of Christ, God is still present, calling us to return in faithfulness and love. But, maybe we wonder if we are too far gone, or if the way is too hard, or if there is really a purpose. Jesus tells his followers in Luke 18:1 to keep praying and not to lose heart. With God’s help, let’s hang on, friends.

In God’s love,

Katherine+

Daily Challenge:

This is the day in the church when the author and spiritual guide C.S. Lewis is remembered. Take a moment to read more about his life and writings. May his journey and reflections deepen the ways you live into Christianity.

Where are Our Walls?

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 89:1-18; Hab. 2:1-4,9-20; James 2:14-26; Luke 16:19-31

I have very little time for reading that’s not related to sermon prep or work related, however Ken Follett’s Century Trilogy was well worth the exception. Century is an historical trilogy and is told through the viewpoints of five interconnected families from Wales, Germany, America, and Russia. It begins before World War I, and continues through the first World war, the Russian Revolution, World War II, and finally ends with the civil rights movement. Follett goes to great lengths to ensure that his details concerning the historical background are as accurate as possible. If you’re interested in history, it’s absolutely fascinating.

The second book, Winter of the World, takes place against the backdrop of World War II. One of the last chapters is set in Berlin in 1946, a year after the end of the war. Germany had surrendered and after the constant bombings, Berlin was unrecognizable. Thousands of bodies lay in piles, in the ruins of acres of flattened houses. The winter of 1946 brought extreme cold, most people were starving and living in homes that had no heat, much less windows with glass or even doors in some cases to keep out the cold. In this chapter a German mother, and her grown daughter are returning from having drug furniture from their home, across the city, to sell to an officer in the French army for a few dollars in hopes of buying food. Some houses had miraculously sustained only partial damage and were habitable. These were the ones the occupying troops took over.

As the mother and daughter walked home, they noticed a crowd, of homeless women and children, gathered outside a house that had been taken over by a British officer. In the freezing cold, the crowd of starving, women, some with infants in their arms and young children at their sides, were staring into the front windows watching men and women, laughing, and holding drinks, as waitresses passed trays filled with food. As the mother and daughter stood there the daughter remarked they looked like rejected sinners, locked out of paradise.

In the gospel for today from Luke, Jesus tells a parable about a poor man named Lazarus, who lay at the gate of a rich man’s home. Lazarus was covered with sores, and longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs took pity upon Lazarus, but the rich man ignored his misery even though he was at his doorstep. After both men die, the rich man, looking up from Hades, sees Lazarus in heaven next to Father Abraham and begs for pity. Abraham reminds the rich man, of the comforts he had enjoyed during his lifetime, however, Lazarus had received none. He had not shown pity on Lazarus.

In Follett’s story, the mother walked up to the door of the British officer’s home, confronted the officer, pointing out the starving women and children who had gathered and asked if they could spare something for them to eat. Ashamed of their insensitivity, he sent trays out to the crowd of more food than they could eat.

What Christ seems to be asking of us today, in this parable, is to open our eyes, to be more attentive to those in need; to identify those barriers, the “gates” or “walls” in our lives, and then with courage that can only come from God through the Holy Spirit, open the gates, and embrace the needs, waiting outside our doors.

 Faithfully,

Sally+

 Questions for Reflection: Who would we be in this parable? Would we be the one who is privileged? Would we have the courage to approach the British officer and ask for help, if not for ourselves but for the others? Anything can serve as a gate or a wall. We tend to create all sorts of walls to protect ourselves. What are our “walls”?  

Slow down – November 15, 2024

Today’s Readings:

AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Joel 2:28-3:8; James 1:16-27; Luke 16:1-9

One night recently, I came home tired. And grouchy. And bossy. I barked and fussed. My kids were not impressed, to say the least. Attitude with eye rolls was dished out from one child, with indignance doled out from the other. I leaned over and asked Sam, “Is it just me, or are the kids being difficult?” With a level tone, he said, “You are being pretty hardcore right now.” I sat silent for a moment and then responded, “Oh. Okay.” Then Sam and I talked about the heavy things upon my mind and heart. I returned to a milder version of the intense person that I can be.

It feels like this scripture from the beginning of the Letter of James is directed just at that version of me the other night. As if James had been watching me and delivered the feedback I needed – but it was not what I really wanted to hear. Have you ever experienced this? I’ll tell you what specifically speaks to me: “You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s righteousness.” (1:19-20)

This is a teaching I know, and yet I need reminders of this. The primary focus is listening. James’ teaching to the Christian community calls them to be always ready to hear and comprehend one another. And then, be slow to utter words or erupt in anger. The “slowing down” piece is hard, and it is important. Here’s why: a drive for immediacy circumvents what can be gained in love and learned in human interaction.

The scripture from James speaks to one more piece in this tension: my fiery, impulsive insistence on being right in the moment does not create an endorsement from God that I am indeed correct. My words might be accurate, but my delivery falls short, is poorly timed, and lands terribly. Connection is diminished. God is not glorified in that space.

Friends, if you and I are to live into our faith as followers of Jesus, each breath and step can be filled with intention. We can see each movement as a gift, so that God’s love and truth shines through us. I invite you to join me in being ready to listen, and let’s slow down together in the ways we respond and get angry. With the love of Christ and the help of the Holy Spirit, God will equip us in this challenge of Christian life today.  

In God’s love,

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection and Daily Challenge:

Where are your words and actions falling short today? Who is it who can speak truth to you - with God's love at the center - so that you adjust the way you see yourself? For whom do you do this? Sit in prayer for those spaces of "course correction" and listen for where God is calling you to grow. Share insights with someone you trust.

Margins of our Relationships - November 13

AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Joel 2:12-19; Rev. 19:11-21; Luke 15:1-10

And the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’ These words capture the radical inclusivity of Jesus—a bold call to embrace that society often rejects. Jesus lived on the margins, and his open arms toward sinners and the marginalized have challenged each generation since. His example has inspired faith traditions to advocate for refugees, immigrants, those suffering from addiction or mental illness, and, in recent decades, the LGBT+ community. The call to radical inclusion has often caused the Pharisees and scribes to grumble—a reminder that a faith community is likely moving in the right direction.

In the past week, I’ve seen numerous examples of people expressing a desire to cut others out of their lives over perceived differences—whether in viewpoints, political affiliations, or personal choices that feel deeply unsettling. Perhaps it’s exhaustion, perhaps grief. While I don’t want to diminish anyone’s pain, I wonder if people can be marginalized even within our own relationships. Could it be that someone we regard as privileged in many ways might still exist in the margins of our lives?

Jesus made it clear: the second greatest commandment, after love of God, is to love one another (Matthew 22:36-40). I’ve always thought this commandment was emphasized because it’s essential to faith. Today, I wonder if it also holds this place of prominence because it’s profoundly difficult to live out.

How can you and I pay more attention to those on the fringes of our relationships? If someone at the edges of our lives speaks of hurt, we should probably listen. And if we’ve pushed someone out, we should pay attention to that, too. Jesus calls us to an ethic of inclusion. If it were easy, we wouldn’t need a Savior.

Faithfully,

John+

St. Martin of Tours

Today’s Readings: Hosea 2:18-23 Psalm 11 Galatians 6:1-2 Matthew 25:31–40

Martin of Tours was born c. 330 to pagan parents, in what is now Hungary. His father, an officer in the Roman military, enlisted Martin into the army at the age of 15. While serving as a soldier he came across a beggar in the cold with no coat. Martin became known for having taken his sword and cutting his cloak in half to share with the beggar. After this he dreamed Christ was wearing the other half of his cloak. The next morning his cloak was miraculously made whole again. Prior to this he had considered becoming a Christian, however, Martin took this as a sign and he finished his Christian training and was baptized. Later Martin founded the first monastery in Gaul, which lasted until the French Revolution. In 371 he was elected bishop of Tours. His life was marked by a series of choices; choices to choose what was right over what was the easier, less costly route. 

Today is the Feast of Martin, it’s also the day of the Armistice which marked the end of the First World War. The gospel for the Feast of St. Martin, is from Matthew. Jesus is telling his followers a story explaining the meaning of sacrificial service, of caring for the lonely, the hungry, clothing the naked - a series of tasks that amount to sacrificial service. This is what retired Presiding Bishop Michael Curry describes as Love, not sentimental love reserved for only a few but love in action, the kind of love that changes the world. Not love that is ostentatious or intended to impress others, but love that involves sacrifice, hard choices. Genuine sacrifice is to make something sacred, or holy – an act of devotion or worship to God, giving of ourselves, our service, by dedicating our whole heart to God.

As the days grow dark earlier each day and the nights begin to cool, bringing on the first signs of fall weather, look around your home and give thanks for the warmth that surrounds you, for the lights that brighten darkened rooms and the food that is on your table each day. Then take an accounting of your closets and if you have an extra gently used coat or scarf, an extra pair of gloves or a hat, please consider bringing them to the alcove at Saint Stephen’s to be distributed to those who may not have a warm coat or a warm place to spend the night. We will be collecting these items for the months of November and December. They will be distributed to persons in need at Grace Church Woodlawn and by the Avondale Breakfast ministry. 

 Jesus said, “35for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36I was naked and you gave me clothing . . . .”  Bp. Curry didn’t say that love in action was always easy, but he did say that with practice, like exercising a muscle, our love can grow stronger. He said this kind of Love can't be limited to one group of friends, one city, one nation, one race or one faith. Martin lived this kind of love. What better time than the Feast of St. martin to begin to practice our love for one another by cleaning out our closets and adding a little warmth to someone in need. 

 Faithfully,

 Sally+

Reflection Questions: Where in your life can you be more generous with your love? Where in your day can your actions show the type of Love that Bp. Curry describes, that St. Martin practiced?