Whoever is not Against Us is for Us

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 80; Isa. 58:1-12; Gal. 6:11-18; Mark 9:30-41

My husband, Stan, became interested in Kairos when we attended a Cursillo weekend as Pilgrims in 2009. I was taken by the unique type of service this ministry provides but it was never something to which I felt called. I did however attend the closing service at the end of one of his first weekends spent in the prison with the “men in white,” and I’ve been back for several more. I was apprehensive but wanted to understand this ministry that had so profoundly fed my husband. Visitors must be willing to submit to a background check, and then searched before entering the prison. The restrictions are incredibly tight, serious, and intimidating. Once inside I was greeted by 35 or 40 men dressed all in white with big smiles and greetings that immediately made me grateful to be there.

Stan has told me story after story of events that these men revealed about their lives. The volunteers spend the better part of four days talking, praying, singing, eating, and listening in small groups. The men’s stories all share a tragic background, lack of support or solid family relationships, most with drug or other addiction issues, as well as abuse, and very little trust in anyone, including themselves. What develops over the four days is nothing short of a miracle. These men who for the most part have never had a visitor, received a letter or food that you or I would consider edible for more years than is imaginable, begin to open up, realizing that possibly for the first time in their lives there is a remote chance God loves them and might consider forgiving all the mistakes they’ve made. Once they begin to open up, I liken it to contagious courage. One starts and then slowly others join in. The way Stan describes it, it’s a breathtaking experience.

Inevitably though one of the men will take issue with their “witness” to the way Christ has changed them.  The gist of what happens as a result is they agree to allow the Spirit to heal and transform each other in whatever way it happens. Sworn enemies embrace each other and even begin praying for one another. It may seem unorthodox or like the disciples some may object that they are casting out spirits in the “Master’s” name yet are not followers, but truthfully, it’s the unfettered work of the Spirit in its fullest glory.

It’s hard to see unorthodox forms of worship, to see Episcopal services conducted in ways that are not “traditional”, but they can still be beautiful and holy, sacred in their own way. As the Spirit spreads God’s love, it will not always look or sound like what we prefer. As Jesus stated, “40Whoever is not against us is for us.” In the years to come, the Episcopal church will continue to thrive and grow, but it will not be without growing pains and periods of conflict. I pray that we can fulfill Jesus’ wish, to embrace all those who offer a cup of water in the name of Christ.  

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection: Are you open to the Holy Spirit moving in unorthodox ways or does it feel threatening? Have you considered visiting the worshipping community of the Abbey or, the Church at Riverside? What might you gain if you did? How can we support our brothers and sisters in these fledgling Episcopal communities?

Island of Peace

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Isa. 54:1-10(11-17); Gal. 4:21-31; Mark 8:11-26

It’s a new month, which means I’m reading something new for my Tuesday conversations with those who attend the Rector’s Reading class. This month, we’re reading Meditations of the Heart by Howard Thurman. Thurman was a spiritual advisor to Martin Luther King Jr. and to others, including civil rights activist and Episcopal priest Pauli Murray. His meditations were first published in 1953, and I’d like to share an excerpt from his first meditation, “An Island of Peace Within One’s Soul”:

“The individual lives his life in the midst of a wide variety of stresses and strains… No one is ever free from the peculiar pressures of his own life. Each one has to deal with the evil aspects of life, with injustices inflicted upon him and injustices which he wittingly or unwittingly inflicts upon others. We are all of us deeply involved in the throes of our own weaknesses and strengths, expressed often in the profoundest conflicts within our own souls. The only hope for surcease, the only possibility of stability for the person, is to establish an Island of Peace within one’s own soul… How foolish it is, how terrible, if you have not found your Island of Peace within your own soul! It means that you are living without the discovery of your true home.”

Our Gospel reading this week feels timely. Religious leaders are in conflict, and Jesus withdraws. The disciples struggle to live out their faith, missing the bigger picture, while Jesus remains engaged in healing and acts of mercy. There’s even a warning to the disciples about the “yeast of Herod” and the “yeast of the Pharisees,” a cautionary tale about religious leaders becoming entangled with political power. Sometimes, we can see the scriptures lived out right before us.

Our baptized identity is rooted in being sealed by the Holy Spirit—the promise of God’s unfailing love, mercy, and care. Though we may live in uncertain times, our faith anchors us in God’s enduring promise. May it help each of us find that Island of Peace within our souls.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: How do you find inner peace? What is the connection to the outside world and the state of turmoil in your soul? How can faith help you navigate this?

Who is Worthy?

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; Isa. 51:17-23; Gal. 4:1-11; Mark 7:24-37

A week ago, this past Sunday, in the gospel from Luke the writer describes a time in Jesus’ ministry when he is faced with unbelief, skepticism and even outright anger. The setting is his hometown, where he has returned after having been gone for what the writer alludes to as having been quite a while. He is met with unbelief and as a result he heals very few people. Because you see our faith, invites, and welcomes the healing power of the Holy Spirit.

In today’s gospel reading Jesus is met with the exact opposite. He’s met by a Gentile woman who we wouldn’t expect to be a believer. However, her faith has given her the courage to approach a rabbi, a known healer, whom she’s aware will see her not only as a foreigner but as someone whom the Jews see as dirty, as undeserving of even a kind word. Breaking all cultural norms, she dares speak to him. She is a mother advocating for her child.

You may have surmised by now that I’m a huge fan. I love this woman and I love this gospel reading. Not only because this woman dares do the unthinkable as her only recourse for her child but also because Jesus is not at his best and without saying so he admits it and changes the course of his ministry for the better from this point going forward. She gets right to the heart of the issue by asking Jesus, who is it that is worthy to eat the crumbs left by God’s chosen people?

It seems that this is a question that has never gone away. It may remain unspoken, but it still drifts in and out of our subconscious, in our culture, our daily decisions, our interactions with strangers and with friends. Either consciously or unconsciously we make decisions about others based on whether we deem them as worthy, based on an arbitrary, unspoken set of standards.

What I love so much about this reading is that Jesus in his full humanity, and perfect divinity initially makes a mistake – he rejects this woman and then he thinks better of it, and he changes course. He begins talking to her, listening to her heart-felt pleas and he has compassion on her.  In Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth he reminds us we are the only hands and feet, eyes, and ears of Christ here on earth. We’re not perfect, however, as best we can we show up, we offer a hand, we listen, and we pray and then we ask forgiveness for those times we fall short, when we fail to recognize the Christ in those around us: God forgive us for we know not what we do.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection: Who do we believe are God’s chosen people? How do we justify the inequality that exists in our society concerning medical care, educational opportunities, housing, or employment? How do we begin to include everyone at the Lord’s Table?

I need Jesus - January 31, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Isa. 50:1-11; Gal. 3:15-22; Mark 6:47-56

As I sit with the gospel appointed for this morning (Mark 6:47-56), I think about the times I have been in deep water – literally and metaphorically. Over my head in a situation that endangered where I was in life. Like the disciples on the lake, I have strained at the oars to get back to safety as the wind blew against every effort. I have continued to tread in that place of peril, seeking something that just wasn’t there and afraid to give up. Maybe I have even jumped from the boat and started swimming further out and into poorer choices, not even considering additional collateral.

Like the lost and exhausted disciples in the dark out on the waters near Bethsaida, I have been that person in need, misdirected in futility and my own humanity. I still get out into that place of danger and isolation, trapped in a mindset of self-sufficiency and unmoored from my foundation. It feels awful.

It is in these moments that I need Jesus. I need Jesus who walks early in the morning upon the shoreline, seeing me silently struggling. I need Jesus who witnesses the tumultuous waves and walks into the wind. I need Jesus who reminds me that I can use my voice to call out for help. I need Jesus to speak words of assurance to me, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.” I need Jesus to get into the boat with me, so that even if the winds are still whipping, life feels steadier. I need Jesus to teach me to speak honestly and lovingly, even when it is hard to say. I need Jesus, who brings calm in the tempests, food to the starving, and mercy when I do not deserve it. I need Jesus…not just as my personal savior, but as a reminder that God is truly with us. We need Jesus – the Redeemer and the Reconciler of this world. 

May Jesus meet you where you are today, no matter the depth of the water.

Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

 Spend ten minutes reading and reflecting on the gospel for today. Listen for where you feel curious or uncomfortable. What does the scripture call you to do, or be, or change today?

God or Man?

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 41, 52; Isa. 48:1-11; Gal. 1:1-17; Mark 5:21-43

Several years ago, while I was serving on the vestry of my church, we were charged with making a decision that would impact the entire congregation. Leading up to the vote we had several opportunities to ask questions, debate the factors at play and listen to one another’s reasoning. The priest who was leading our group read us this scripture from Paul’s letter to the church in Galatia:

“10 Am I now seeking human approval, or God’s approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant*of Christ.”

He asked us to consider as we weighed all the facts, “who were we trying to please?” Were we thinking of how God would act or were we more concerned with what others would think about our decision?

There have been many times in my life when I wish someone had asked me this. When I was in high school and fell into a not-so-great group of kids someone should have asked me that. Through the years, I’m sad to admit I’ve made decisions that weren’t based on what I knew was the right thing to do, but rather based on what the situation was, who was involved and whose acceptance I was seeking. This isn’t particularly surprising for a high school or college kid, but what happens if as adults we continue to allow ourselves to be blown back and forth, our opinions and choices flipped around like a kite on a windy day? What if we fail to see that God is the only authority in our lives that we need look to for approval? 

Paul’s letter addresses a situation that unfortunately isn’t uncommon in the church or in the world. This group of new followers has allowed themselves to become influenced by something that isn’t the genuine article. It's easy to allow ourselves to make decisions, influenced by the people around us, and by those whose opinion, whether rightly or wrongly, matters to us. It’s tempting to conform, to take the easy way out, to become confused with so many different sources of information, or to seek a way to avoid creating conflict. Honestly though, when that happens, when I’m conflicted, I know it, I can feel it, and if I fold to it, I know that I coped out. 

Making decisions on what we believe is right in the eyes of God requires listening in community, having discussions that include multiple ways of looking at an issue, listening with open hearts and open minds, and seeking through prayer the Holy Spirit’s guidance. And then, once a decision is made if we believe we’ve spoken our truth, nothing else matters. 

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection: Can you recall a time when you know you avoided conflict by avoiding the truth? When you chose to compromise your truth? It all comes down to whose approval matters most.  

Tending the Soil

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48; Isa. 44:24-45:7; Eph. 5:1-14; Mark 4:1-20

Today’s Gospel features one of the parables from Mark’s Gospel—the story of the sower. Jesus tells of a sower who scatters seeds across different terrains. Some seeds fall on the path, only to be eaten by birds. Others land on rocky ground, where they cannot take root. Some fall among thorns, which choke their growth. But finally, some seeds land in good soil, yielding a harvest of a hundredfold.

Notice what remains constant and what changes. The seed is always the same. It’s the soil that determines the growth and fruitfulness of the seed. Parables like this one use metaphors to reveal profound truths, inviting us to reflect on their meaning and how they shape our lives.

In this parable, we are the seeds. What stands out to me is that all seeds are identical—each brimming with potential to reflect the glory of God. Every single human being matters. What makes the difference is not the seed itself but the soil it’s planted in.

This challenges us to consider what influences and shapes us. Are we in soil that nourishes our growth or in soil that stifles it? One modern parallel is the way social media algorithms feed us information, shaping what we consume, believe, and ultimately who we become. We are all planted in some kind of soil. The question is: What kind of soil surrounds you? Are you becoming the person God has called you to be?

Your life is a gift from God, teeming with potential to thrive and glorify God a hundredfold. Maybe you’re already thriving and just need encouragement to keep going. But the parable of the sower offers wisdom for all of us: tend to the soil. For me, that might mean turning off the news, unplugging my phone, disengaging from social media, and stopping the consumption of content that doesn’t make me more loving, forgiving, and inclusive.

How can you tend the soil in which you are planted so that you can share God’s love more deeply? What changes can you make to nurture the incredible potential God has placed within you?

Faithfully,

John+

Equipped

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 25; Isa. 44:6-8,21-23; Eph. 4:1-16; Mark 3:7-19a

When I worked with people with disabilities a great deal of the staff, I supervised were people who are highly skilled at what they do and incredibly caring however they held no credentials that spoke to their qualifications. As their supervisor I stressed to them that they were professionals in my eyes, just as qualified as anyone who had a certificate or degree and as such, I wanted them to think as highly of themselves as I thought of them. To believe that they had untold gifts to share.

We all have abilities, gifts, some we’ve mastered and some we’re still discovering. For some it’s instinctual, some love to teach, or lead youth, care for others or are a natural at organizing events. When Jesus called the twelve apostles, he knew none of these men had been trained as “fishers of me.” However, he also instinctively knew they were capable of amazing, hard things, tasks that would stretch them to their limits and for some, past what they believed they were capable of attaining. When I was preparing for my stem cell transplant, one of my daughters gave me several slips of paper that held encouraging, uplifting messages. I wasn’t sure what lay ahead of me or if I would survive. The one message I remember and still hold dear was this, “You are braver than you know and stronger than you can possibly imagine.” It still brings tears to my eyes. I needed someone to tell me I was capable of facing this demon and winning, no matter what it took, regardless of how hard I knew it would be.

We are each called by Jesus Christ to be an apostle of sorts. None of us knows exactly what we’re capable of but we can rest assured that God knows and has prepared us for what lies ahead. Today is one of the most important days in our country’s history. Unlike many presidential inaugurations, the road to this one has been paved with more division and hate-filled speech than I can ever remember. Paul’s letter to the church in Ephesus is a timely message for us today: “14We must no longer be children, tossed to and fro and blown about by every wind of doctrine, . . . 15But speaking the truth in love, we must grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, 16from whom the whole body, joined and knitted together by every ligament with which it is equipped, as each part is working properly, promotes the body’s growth in building itself up in love.” We can, as apostles of Christ, choose to do our part in easing the divisions, finding inroads to the disagreements, and practicing patience, “building ourselves (and our neighbors) up in love.” Because each of us, like the saints, have been equipped by Christ “for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ.” May we each be blessed with the spirit of truth and the courage to profess it.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for reflection

When was the last time you seriously considered what your passions, your talents are? Have you gotten into a rut? Volunteering without enjoying it? Why not consider re-evaluating what you do and investigating what truly brings you joy?

Food and Fire – January 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 22; Isa. 42: 1-17; Eph. 3:1-13; Mark 2:13-22 

On the first night of winter, we welcomed an assortment of longtime friends to our house. The evening was clear, cold, and beautiful. Sam built a fire in our stone firepit in the backyard that served as a nexus for rich conversation. We shared snacks, soup, beverages, and laughter as new connections were forged.

As I reflect on that grace-filled evening, people gathered around two fronts: the fire and the food. Both resonate with the core needs of humans. The warmth of the fire and the dancing flames draw us in. Kids and adults alike are attracted to the primal invitation extended by the blaze. (And there is a touch of danger included, which makes it a bit more fun!)

Food piques our interest in the wafting aromas and vibrant displays. A casserole holds memories and flavors of the past. These dishes meet our need for nourishment and bring us satisfaction. We get to try new things and revisit old favorites. Like fire, food is participatory; we are enticed to join in as we watch others partake. We find connection and comfort with one another upon the common ground of cuisine.

It is not surprising that in honoring God, we often incorporate fire and food. As created beings of the Lord, we bring these deeply resonant practices into the ways we connect with and praise God. I think about the ancient sacrifices made, presenting unblemished livestock which were then burned upon the altar in the Temple. Later, in Mark’s gospel, Jesus goes to have dinner with Levi, son of Alphaeus, who is a tax collector. The Son of God gathers in community, sharing stories and a meal with “many tax-collectors and sinners”. (I imagine that Levi – who we later call Matthew – also had a firepit nearby with an inviting blaze, too!)

In worship at Saint Stephen’s, we also have fire and food as we gather for Holy Eucharist. Candles upon our altar are lighted before worship begins. Bread and wine are presented as part of the gifts we all offer as we give thanks to God. Food and fire. Fire and food. We are gathered upon those two fronts.

Over the next few days, I pray that the images of food and fire are spaces where you can give thanks to God. Remember your Creator who imbued love within you for meaningful connection with others. Gather with others to share a meal or have a neighborhood bonfire as cold weather descends upon us. Toast a marshmallow and tell stories of gratitude. And may your heart be warmed as you give thanks to God.

With God's help,

Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

Make plans to share a meal - whether around a fire or not - with someone you might not normally spend time. Pray for God's guidance as you prepare, and be intentional about bringing a grateful soul into the gathering.

With God's Help

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 5, 6; Isa. 40:25-31; Eph. 1:15-23; Mark 1:14-28

 A few days ago I came across an essay written by Wendell Berry in 2005. The title of the essay is “The Burden of the Gospels.” The title alone caused me to think about so many things but mostly the responsibility we each have as followers of Christ. Berry refers to his reading of the gospels as “comforting and clarifying and instructive as they frequently are, (as well as) deeply moving or exhilarating . . .’ He sees them as a burden because they raise difficult personal questions about how we live our lives and how we plan to respond to what can be outrageous demands. Such as, drop your nets, leave your wives, your children and never look back, follow me and I will give you a new life. Lose your life and you gain everything.

How many times have you honestly asked yourself, “Could I have done that?” I know I’ve thought about it, and I honestly can’t say for sure. I do know choosing to go to seminary with three young children and a marriage already on shaky ground was a huge risk, but I knew it was the only way forward for me. I lost everything and everyone for a brief time, but God led me through it, and I came out as though I’d received the gift of new life. Not unscathed, definitely bruised and battered, and with a few scars, but stronger. To quote Isaiah, “those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” For our loving gracious God does not faint or grow weary;
God’s understanding is unsearchable. And I might add the scope of God’s patience is infinite and for good reason!

We each carry so many responsibilities, burdens you might say, to care for others, to be responsible in our roles at work and in our families, with friends, to the environment, at church, the list goes on and on. What Christ challenges his followers to is a life of sacrifice, of hardship, of eternal joy and treasures that will never tarnish or fall away, and yes, to shoulder a burden, a burden in the form of a commitment. And at the same time a burden that he never expects us to carry alone.  

Yesterday was one of the Sundays in the church year designated for the celebration of the sacrament of baptism or if there are no baptisms to renew our baptismal vows. In those vows we renew the commitment that either we make or is made for us at our baptism, and it reminds us that as we live our lives in Christ it is always, “with God’s help.”

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection: What difficult personal questions about how you live your life are raised by the gospels? How do you plan to respond? What are your personal responsibilities to Christ? How do you fulfill those responsibilities?

Wide-eyed – January 10, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 138, 139:1-17(18-23); PM Psalm 147
Isa. 65:1-9; Rev. 3:1-6. John 6:1-14

This year on Christmas Day, we struggled to get a family picture that had everyone’s eyes open. So, we tried a silly thing: a group photo with thirteen pairs of closed eyes! After that one, we took another wacky photo with our eyes opened as wide as possible. I was surprised by how challenging it was to stay big-eyed as the timer counted down from 10 before snapping an image. We had to try a couple of times to get a good shot. Several present were similarly bemused at the discomfort of keeping their eyes open for a protracted period…and all for the cause of funny family photos.

As I sit with today’s gospel, I think about the wide-eyed crowd following Jesus as he heals and teaches and feeds the masses. They don’t want to miss a move of this miraculous, compassionate man. The throngs of people see Jesus’ actions and realize he is special. There is something big happening. They see his movements as signs. They begin to believe and say publicly, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.”

Keeping our eyes open and watchful is not easy. We get stretched. We are more likely to see the hard corners of life where struggle is inescapable. It can be exhausting and demoralizing. We also are apt to see stories of hope - spaces of grace, healing, and reconciliation. Through all of those inputs, we have opportunities to perceive and share truth more clearly.

Join me in praying that God will give us courage to open our eyes and hearts widely in the days to come – so that we see and draw near to the world around us. So that we pray for those in need. So that we seek ways to be with those who are hurting and doubting and hungry. So that we can see the footprints of Jesus walking alongside us.

If you are curious about an innovative way to open your eyes to Christian faith in a small group setting, Saint Stephen’s is hosting a midday Monday offering of Sam Wells' "Being With" curriculum that kicks off at the end of January. No special knowledge or credentials are required to participate; all you bring is a willingness to share what you have learned in life to date. Want to learn more? An information session will be held on Monday, January 13, at 11:30 a.m. in the chapel at Saint Stephen’s. Let me know if you are interested in joining me!

With God's help,

Katherine+

Questions for Self-Reflection and Daily Challenge:

I wonder how the huge crowd fed by the barley loaves described in John 6:1-14 felt and lived in the days following that surprising picnic of abundance.

How would your eyes be opened differently? What do you imagine remaining unchanged in your life? What might shift through an encounter with Jesus?

The Devil - January 8

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 117, 118; PM Palm 112, 113;Isa. 59:15-21; Rev. 2:8-17; John 4:46-54

The storybook images and illustrations of the devil, or the depictions we see in stories and movies, have never really been a part of my faith. I've always thought of them as humanity's way of making sense of evil. However, the devil—or Satan—does appear in Scripture, although probably not as often as we might assume. It shows up in today’s New Testament lesson from Revelation, which uses vivid imagery to provide spiritual context for addressing the challenges of the world.

This Sunday, many churches around the world will celebrate Baptism on the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus. During this celebration, questions such as these are asked: “Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?” and “Do you renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?” The second question resonates more deeply with me, but both have scriptural roots.

For the past several years, I’ve been part of a reading group that’s open to anyone interested. It’s mostly made up of people from Saint Stephen’s, though others have joined along the way. Each month, we discuss a different book, spanning a wide range of genres. This month, we’re reading The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, a fictional series of letters written from Screwtape, a senior devil, to his nephew Wormwood, a junior tempter. It’s a playful yet profound satirical exploration of the challenges of being human.

The opening paragraph of the first letter in Lewis’s 1941 classic struck me deeply:

“My dear Wormwood, I note what you say about guiding our patient’s reading and taking care that he sees a good deal of his materialist friend. But are you not being a trifle naïve? It sounds as if you supposed that argument was the way to keep him out of the Enemy’s clutches. That might have been so if he had lived a few centuries earlier. At that time, the humans still knew pretty well when a thing was proved and when it was not; and if it was proved, they really believed it. They connected thinking with doing and were prepared to alter their way of life as the result of a chain of reasoning. But what with the weekly press and other weapons, we have largely altered that.”

Screwtape goes on:

“Your man has been accustomed, ever since he was a boy, to have a dozen incompatible philosophies dancing about together inside his head. He doesn’t think of doctrines as primarily ‘true’ or ‘false,’ but as ‘academic’ or ‘practical,’ or ‘outworn’ or ‘contemporary,’ ‘conventional’ or ‘ruthless.’ Jargon, not argument, is your best ally in keeping him from the Church. Don’t waste time trying to make him think materialism is true! Make him think it is strong, or stark, or courageous—that is the philosophy of the future. That’s the sort of thing he cares about.”

Written more than eighty years ago, these words still resonate. While I continue to wrestle with the concept of Satan, Lewis’s insights challenge me to reflect on how often we fail to live into God’s vision for beloved community. He reminds us that progress doesn’t always lead to a deeper understanding of God. Here in 2025, we still struggle to grasp the significance of loving God and neighbor, too often entangled in jargon and ideologies that leave compassion by the wayside.

If you find yourself in a church this Sunday, I hope you’ll consider the Baptismal Covenant with fresh eyes, seeing it as a vision for our lives. These words were proclaimed at your Baptism: “Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?” and “Do you renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?” The answer was, “I do.” May we still hold this to be true.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: To you, what are the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?

Little Epiphanies

Today’s Readings - Isaiah 60:1-6 Ephesians 3:1-12 Matthew 2:1-12 Psalm 72:1-7,10-14

Today as the sun begins to lighten the dark morning sky, I am aware of the abundant symbolism of light in our faith tradition. Light in the readings for the Epiphany which we celebrate on the 6th of December each year, plays a significant role. It was the light of a star that three wise men followed, leading them to a house where with his mother, the infant who would be king lay sleeping, oblivious to the tremendous difference the light his life would make.

The word Epiphany which has come to be associated with this day, means “appearance or manifestation.” It is on this day that Western Christianity recognizes Christ’s manifestation to the Gentiles. The Magi were not Jewish, coming from the east it’s possible they were followers of Zoroastrianism, not Christianity. If they were astrologers as is one of the traditions, they were accustomed to watching and studying the heavens. For whatever reason, they believed this was a special star, a star that would lead them to the “child who has been born king of the Jews.” Their hearts appear to have been transformed and open to the mysterious ways of God and they followed.

I’m not always that confident in information that I hear. I tend to be skeptical. I ask questions and tread ahead carefully. Sometimes those who are extremely self-confident in their understanding of situations that are hard to pin down make me nervous. Unfortunately, this kind of confidence swings in a wide arc. People can be extremely self-confident in their understanding of scriptures, or God’s intentions to the detriment of what others may believe. Our history documents all too well the atrocities that were done, with utter confidence it was God’s will. I’m reminded of “Revelation,” a Flannery O’Connor short story, in which the protagonist is certain that God hates those whose lives and faith differ from her own. That is until she has an epiphany and realizes she’s been wrong all along.

Possibly the lesson for us all is that until we accept that God’s ways are not ours to understand, that the scriptures are God’s revelation of God’s self and that in many ways they may remain a mystery, we will continue making blunders based on our own egos and overly self-confident ways. Maybe if we prayerfully stay on the look-out for “Epiphanies,” for stars to lead us home; for those beautiful mysterious moments when God’s self is revealed in the most unexpected ways, then our eyes will be opened, and we will see the truth Christ came to reveal.   

Questions for Reflection: When was the last time you were overly confident in something only later to realize you were wrong? How do we look at our lives through the lens of God’s eyes? Looking for where God is present, listening for God’s still quiet voice.

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.