A Listening Ear

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 25; Deut. 6:10-15; Heb 1:1-14; John 1:1-18 

Have you noticed how incredibly filled with words our world has become? There is a pod cast for every subject, satisfying every listener’s taste. And unfortunately, a great deal of what is trending tends toward anger. The expression of every feeling, every political, religious, or other viewpoint is available twenty-four hours a day. Thanks to social media, not only can you find a video on how to knit a baby blanket, but you can also express your most vile, angry thoughts for all the world to read.

The abundance of words, negative and positive, reminds me of the importance of listening. One of the first things I learned as a social worker was that if I was talking, then I wasn’t listening. Glen McDonald, in his Morning Reflection quotes the book of James, “. . . Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires” (James 1:19-20). “Quick to listen,” is likely to be one of the most valuable pieces of advice any of us can receive. McDonald seems to endorse James’ advice when he writes, “We can master the power of the pause – waiting for someone else to speak. We can listen carefully, paying fierce attention to others instead of thinking ahead to our next amazing comment.”

Today’s gospel reading from John, may be one of the most succinct of all bible verses: “In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.” In that one short sentence the author establishes what many authors have written entire books trying to communicate. The succinct clear way this is expressed is unparalleled. Logos, Greek for “word” means mind, speech, or communication. Jesus spends a lot of his ministry talking, communicating the thoughts, and actions of God. Jesus is expressing the ways we can love others. He is the Word from before time so yes, he talks but Jesus also listens and when he does, he responds in a thoughtful, compassionate way. If all talk was as valuable as what Jesus has to say we would do well to refrain from ever speaking again so that we never stop listening. As it is we must discern what is worthy of our attention and what isn’t.

Howard Thurman, from his book Meditations of the Heart, writes, “Give me the listening ear. I seek this day the ear that will not shrink from the word that corrects or admonishes  . . . the word that holds up before me the image of myself that causes me to pause and reconsider – the word that lays bare the needs that make my own days uneasy, that seizes upon every good decent impulse of my nature, channeling it into paths of healing in the lives of others.” May we desire a discerning heart that seeks not to only hear with the listening ear of God but also speak from a thoughtful heart.

Faithfully,

Sally+ 

Questions for Reflection - How might we put on the mind of Jesus when we listen? When we speak?  When was the last time you prayerfully considered what you were going to say and how it might be impactful either in a constructive or hurtful way?

Snarky mutterings - February 28, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 140, 142; PM Psalm 141, 143:1-11(12)
Ruth 3:1-18; 2 Cor. 4:1-12; Matt. 5:38-48

Wow. There are days that Holy Scripture feels extremely relatable and today is one of those. The epistle is from the Apostle Paul’s second letter to the church in Corinth and begins: “Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart. We have renounced the shameful things that one hides; we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God.” (4:1-2)

These words resonate loudly in my heart. They speak to the ways God’s mercy sustains me on days when I feel overwhelmed, that I am not enough, and that I have not done all that is expected of me. Paul’s message recalls the power of forgiveness extended to each of us in the sacrifice and love of Jesus. Being cleansed from those dark and hard places with God’s amazing grace, I live anew. That renewal looks like a fresh commitment to act and speak in truth and love, avoiding the snarky mutterings that tempt my tongue. This excerpt also reminds me not to twist or adjust the Word of God for my own gain or to manipulate others in false or crafty ways. Rather, we stand together as a body of faithful people bringing God’s truth and compassion to life.

I recall with gratitude the wonderful bonds of sharing and learning that were woven together through time with clergy from across the country at the Episcopal Parish Network conference in Kansas City, MO, earlier this week. I reconnected with a friend from seminary; as we caught up, we shared spaces of our lives where there has been disappointment and change. Over the last decade, we each have gone through seasons to reflect – as individuals, within our families, and in our contexts of ministry. We are different than we were 10 years ago. We have deepened in wisdom. We dedicate ourselves to receiving the compassion of Christ, as we share that mercy with others. In doing so, we are reminded of the humble posture we assume when kneeling at the feet of Jesus.

Inspired by today’s epistle, I offer a bold and counter-cultural prayer: that the Holy Spirit will give each of us courage to adopt the stance as slaves bound to serve for the cause of Jesus – not enslaved in darkness, but in the bonds of lightness and for the glory of God. Amen.

Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

Re-read 2 Corinthians 4:1-12. What stirs your heart today? Where are you called into life?

Spend a few minutes writing your musings. Then, talk with a trusted friend over coffee and invite them to reflect on this scripture, too.

I Believe . . .

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 106:1-18; Ruth 1:1-14; 2 Cor. 1:1-11; Matt. 5:1-12

The Gospel for today is one version of what we have come to know as the Beatitudes. Luke’s version is known as the Sermon on the Plains and is very similar to the one we have for today from Matthew. Jesus goes through a list of ways in which various human conditions might bring a blessing. It’s hard to read this without wondering why Jesus wants us to believe that we are blessed if we mourn or  are poor in spirit or persecuted. Who is he kidding? We know following Christ is challenging but this seems out of even Jesus’ realm of what might be something we can accomplish.

In Joan Chittister’s book, In Search of Belief, she takes the Apostle’s Creed and line by line she dissects what it means to say “I believe. . .”  She establishes that intellectual belief and the kind of belief that comes from faith, without the need for quantifiable data, are the two sides of the equation that people struggle with when it comes to what we believe.  One way to consider scripture is to look at it from at least three “senses:” Literal, historical and spiritual. I recently heard someone say, “I take the Bible too seriously to only take it literally.” To look at scripture only from a literal perspective eliminates the historical context and what the scriptures are saying to us spiritually, for our situation, in our time. According to Chittister, literalism “involves more non-thinking than it does actual genuine faith.”

In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus is laying out his mission, he is restating his purpose which he had alluded to earlier in the Temple when he read from the prophet Isaiah. As we read Jesus’ words it’s easy to see how he could have been misunderstood. Even now, it’s easy to become confused or to be unsure of the message that Jesus is trying to communicate. Jesus is not trying to soft pedal the awful situations of which so many people in our communities suffer, nor is he dismissing their situation by simply declaring that this is some sort of blessing. One thing we know for certain is that Jesus suffered, and he felt companionship and solidarity with others who suffered. When we suffer, illusions of our independence from God or superiority over others is erased. We all suffer, we all mourn, we all find ourselves misunderstood and persecuted at one point or another. We are all poor in spirit and we all long for the presence of God to fill our empty hollow lives. This is what I believe Jesus was trying to communicate as he delivered the beatitudes. In the end our suffering erases those barriers between us and God, and we can believe that we are blessed too. Never before have we had a greater need not only to believe the scriptures, and creeds but we also need to understand them, to be able to not only recite them in church on Sunday, but actually live them as if we believe and understand their implications.  When we experience those things that bring us closer to God and to realizing the presence of God in our midst, when we live out our beliefs, not only are our lives made better, but the world is made better as well.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection - What creedal statements or bible verses do you struggle to understand? To believe? How do you reconcile the “hard to believe” statements with your faith?

Priorities - February 21, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; Isa. 65:17-25; 1 Tim. 5:17-22(23-25); Mark 12:28-34

My third grader is doing a vocabulary study project. The word he chose is “unbalence” (he wrote it this way on his planning sheet). He defines the word as “something that is not equal”. For the costume to embody this word, he needs “something heavy and light”. That nine-year-old boy has me thinking about spaces in life that are unbalanced.

It doesn’t take long to see examples of imbalance in my own life: Working hours. Spending money. Food choices. Social media. Worry. We each have our own categories that bubble up…and maybe we examine what is most important in life. To find a healthy blend or balance, what people, actions, and perspectives are considered first?

We are not alone in testing our need for realignment. Jesus and a scribe exchange words in the gospel according to Mark appointed for today. The scribe asks, “Which commandment is the first of all?” Jesus answers, “The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength…The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” (12:29-31) Period.

Last night, Nadia Bolz Weber spoke at Birmingham’s Highlands United Methodist Church in Five Points, the second stop on her Red State Revival tour. She shared music, words of inspiration, and offered her own testimony grounded in song and prayer. Nadia spoke of her times wandering far from God, and those moments when the Holy Spirit gave her the gift of words and reassurance to trust in the bold forgiveness and reconciling love of Jesus. It is that love which we are to extend to our neighbors, our enemies, and those who are hard to love. That is the love that we truly want – for it is strong enough to forgive those who have hurt us and ignored us and belittled us. It is big enough to forgive us, too, liberating us in ways we never could imagine.

Friends, when life within us and outside of us is unbalanced, let us choose the priority of great and abiding love. Love for God. Love for ourselves. Love for our neighbors. Then, act accordingly. It is a radical way to live. It is the command God sent to the Israelites of yore. And we have the model of Jesus and the courage of the Holy Spirit to help us along the way.

In God’s love,

Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

What are your priorities of time, money, and mindset this week? Sit with the gospel for today and reflect on how God is calling you to realign or adjust.

Try a small experiment for this next week: make one incremental change to lead with God's love with intention each day.

I Confess

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144; Isa 63:15-64:9; 1 Tim. 3:1-16; Mark 11:27-12:12

This morning’s Gospel presents a difficult message, one that challenges us to confront uncomfortable truths. Jesus shares the parable of the vineyard, where the tenants, entrusted with caring for the land, rebel against the owner. When the owner's son is sent to them, they kill him, believing they can seize the inheritance for themselves. This is more than just a story of greed and violence—it is a prophecy, foreshadowing the rejection and crucifixion of Christ.

The religious leaders who hear this parable do not miss its implications. They realize that Jesus is speaking about them, about their own role in resisting God’s work. But rather than repenting, they grow angrier. The Gospel tells us:

“They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowd. So they left him and went away.”

It is a striking moment—one in which the truth is laid bare, yet those confronted by it refuse to change. This parable invites us to examine not only the actions of the religious leaders but also our own tendencies to resist truth, to shift blame, and to avoid responsibility.

We all struggle with our role in the brokenness of the world. This week, I had a long conversation with my son after he tried to blame others for something he had done. We talked about responsibility—how difficult, yet necessary, it is to own up to our actions. It is a lesson that many of us, even as adults, continue to wrestle with.

Since I have previously shared reflections from Howard Thurman’s Meditations of the Heart (1953), I thought I would offer one final passage that speaks to today’s reading and my reflection. This one is titled “I Confess”:

The concern which I lay bare before God today is:
My concern for the life of the world in these troubled times.
I confess my own inner confusion as I look out upon the world.
There is food for all—many are hungry.
There are clothes enough for all—many are in rags.
There is room enough for all—many are crowded.
There are none who want war—preparations for conflict abound.

I confess my own share in the ills of the times.
I have shirked my responsibility as a citizen.
I have not been wise in casting my ballot.
I have left to others a real interest in making a public opinion worthy of democracy.
I have been concerned about my own little job, my own little security, my own shelter, my own bread.
I have not really cared about jobs for others, security for others, shelter for others, bread for others.
I have not worked for peace; I want peace, but I have voted and worked for war.
I have silenced my own voice that it may not be heard on the side of any cause, however right, if it meant running risks or damaging my own little reputation.

Let Thy light burn in me that I may, from this moment on, take effective steps within my own powers to live up to the light and courageously pay for the kind of world I so deeply desire.

It is easy to blame others for the world we have created, but that may not be the most faithful response. May God’s light burn in us so that we may live courageously.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: What role does confession play in your faith life? How can confession give you courage in our world today?

Creating Communities of Truth

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 89:1-18; Isa. 63:1-6; 1 Tim. 1:1-17; Mark 11:1-11

Teachers are some of the first to love our children outside of family relationships, teaching them they are valued and loved just for who they are. They open our children’s eyes to amazing literature, science and nature, the value of reading, and learning how to respect the earth, their class- mates and themselves. They can engage a child’s interest in passions that they will have for a lifetime. They may teach them how to catch a baseball, sew a shirt from scratch – when there was such a thing as Home EC, love poetry, play a piano or a cello, or how to bicycle kick a soccer ball. These life skills open our children’s eyes to the world of ideas and experiences that will shape them as adults and as members of their community.

In Parker Palmer’s To Know as We are Known, Palmer stresses the spiritual and communal aspects of learning. When he published in 1983, those involved in religious education, at universities, colleges or seminaries were his primary target audience. However, 10 years after publication he came to realize he had a much wider, more diverse audience. Faculty at public schools, and major research institutions of all faiths have taken it up. He came to realize there was a very simple reason – educators of all descriptions are having a really difficult time, and the pain they feel has sent them looking at “unconventional resources” (P. Palmer). Palmer describes the pain educators are experiencing as “the pain of disconnection.” Palmer points out that in the midst of alienation spiritual traditions can offer hope that is difficult to find elsewhere.

In today’s Letter from Timothy the writer is exposing a type of teaching that takes liberties with the truth, creating divisions and doing this “without understanding either what they are saying or the things about which they make assertions.”

Knowing where to find the truth and how to discern what we are hearing is a difficult task. Good teachers can help, they can lay the foundation but society must support their work. We must be more discerning of theories and conjectures and listen with the heart of Christ. This is what Timothy was trying to teach his followers: “not to occupy themselves with myths and endless genealogies that promote speculations rather than the divine training that is known by faith..”

Palmer states that “Authentic spirituality wants to open us to truth – whatever truth may be, wherever truth may take us. Such spirituality trusts that any path walked with integrity will take us to a place of knowledge. Such spirituality encourages us to welcome diversity and conflict, to tolerate ambiguity and to embrace paradox.” As followers of Christ, we can leave behind the fear that creates divisions, that erodes sound learning. We can hear Timothy’s words in light of today and pledge to create spaces in which communities of truth are created, networks of relationships in which we both speak and listen with the heart of Christ, in which “instruction is love that comes from a pure heart” (I Timothy 1:5.)

Faithfully,

Sally+

Reflection - How might you be able to create a space that encourages a community that seeks truth, a space where diversity is welcomed and fear is crowded out with trust and open, whole-heartedness?

Love = Service and Sacrifice - February 14

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Isa. 61:1-9; 2 Tim. 3:1-17; Mark 10:32-45

Amazed. Afraid. Angry. These are emotions and feelings exhibited by the disciples in today’s gospel story from Mark. While informed by Jesus of what is to come – betrayal, humiliation, death – James and John are still not satisfied. The brothers voice a desire to draw nearer to Jesus’ power, sitting to the left and right of this one who God will raise from the dead. They are not seeing the whole picture Jesus is outlining for them, for they are missing the immense sacrifice required.

There is dissention among the disciples, stirred with angst at the impertinence of Zebedee’s boys. Jesus dispels the tension and corrects the expectations of his students. Gentiles, he says, have rulers who lead sternly and as tyrants. Conversely, faithful believers in God – like the disciples – embrace a different paradigm: greatness is defined by one’s humility and willingness to serve. Then, Jesus makes a profound statement of his purpose in community: “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.” (v. 45) Selfless service and sacrifice are at the heart of what Jesus models for the world.

This life coaching lesson opens the disciples to be more apt to welcome the blind, bellowing Bartimaeus, calling out for Jesus to have mercy on him (tomorrow’s gospel reading, Mark 10:46-52). I imagine the disciples join others in the crowd to help encourage and lead the pleading beggar to the Son of David. These students feel his power and are in awe, while still figuring out what it means to be in the presence of such a being. He may be called Jesus, but they are beginning to know him as the Messiah. As they watch the healing of the needy, like Bartimaeus who is made well by his faith, their own faith is bolstered through witnessing miracles.

The disciples are sources of encouragement for us – we who are flawed and bumbling, angry and afraid. The disciples faced adversity and injustice. They asked the wrong questions. They missed the point. And the Good Shepherd did not leave them behind. Jesus Christ’s grace-filled instruction continued.

Jesus keeps teaching us, too…beckoning us to live into ways of demonstrating justice, loving mercy, and walking with humility. How will you honor God through your life today?

Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

What does honoring God with your life look like? Who do you look to as a guide? Where are the spaces of hurt and need that are immediately in front of you?

Pray and journal as you reflect on these questions. Listen for ideas of action and response that emerge.

Inner Peace - February 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; Isa. 59:15b-21; 2 Tim. 1:15-2:13; Mark 10:1-16

A question that many Christian mystics and theologians have wrestled with is whether being spiritually centered—grounded, calm, and at peace—enables us to fully live out our calling as faithful witnesses. To follow Jesus, to be people who respond to the world’s suffering with His grace, love, and hope, do we first need to cultivate inner stillness? I would argue not necessarily—but it certainly helps.

As I shared last week, I have been reflecting on the writings of Howard Thurman, particularly his Meditations of the Heart (1952). He writes, “How to get beyond one’s anxiety and trouble to the center of one’s own spirit is one of the most formidable hurdles to serenity and inner peace.” This is a powerful reminder that our inner life—the state of our hearts and souls—deeply shapes how we engage with the world and with God’s calling. When fear, anxiety, or distraction cloud our spirits, responding faithfully becomes more difficult. But when we cultivate a deep, abiding peace, we create space to hear God’s voice and move with clarity and conviction.

Today’s reading from the Prophet Isaiah presents a striking image of God putting on righteousness “like a breastplate” and a “helmet of salvation.” It’s a vision of divine strength and justice, one that likely influenced the writer of Ephesians, who offers a similar metaphor in chapter six:

"Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness. As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to proclaim the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

This imagery reminds us that faith is not passive; it is a way of moving through the world with intention, strength, and purpose. The “armor” of God is not about aggression but about resilience—the courage to stand firm in truth, the readiness to proclaim peace, the faith to withstand adversity.

One of my favorite prayers, the Great Litany (written in 1544 and the oldest in our English tradition), speaks to this need for divine protection and guidance. A few of its petitions stand out:

"From all blindness of heart; from pride, vain glory, and hypocrisy; from envy, hatred, and malice; and from all want of charity, Good Lord, deliver us.

"From all inordinate and sinful affections; and from all the deceits of the world, the flesh, and the devil, Good Lord, deliver us.

"From all false doctrine, heresy, and schism; from hardness of heart, and contempt of thy Word and commandment, Good Lord, deliver us.

"From all oppression, conspiracy, and rebellion; from violence, battle, and murder; and from dying suddenly and unprepared, Good Lord, deliver us.

"In all time of our tribulation; in all time of our prosperity; in the hour of death, and in the day of judgment, Good Lord, deliver us."

This prayer acknowledges a truth we often forget—our greatest battles are not always external. They happen within us: in the struggle against pride, fear, division, and despair. The armor of God is not just for defense against outward threats but for the quiet, internal work of cultivating faith, integrity, and love.

It is worth considering that faith is both armor and a balm. It equips us for the trials we face, giving us the strength to stand firm, and yet it is also a source of healing, offering peace amid turmoil. May our faith not only protect us but also transform us—so that we, in turn, may bring God’s peace to the world.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: How does your faith become armor to you? What do you need protection from?

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.