Healing, now and ahead – August 1, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73
2 Samuel 5:1-12; Acts 17:1-15; Mark 7:24-37

This morning, I think about those in our midst who are stretched thin as they attend to the needs of the vulnerable, as they pray for restoration and cling to hope. Recently a parent shared that their child was exhibiting behaviors that indicate developmental delays. They were days away from meeting with a specialist to find out more information. They want this vibrant kid to be connected in community, going through the challenges and joys other children experience. Now they wait, uncertain for what is next. There is another family I know with a child who has special needs. Activities like walking, talking, and even tolerating heat are beyond what this cherished daughter’s body allows her to do. And yet, for years her parents sought answers to understand and support her.

In Mark’s gospel today, there are two healing stories. A Gentile woman approaches Jesus, begging him to heal her young daughter who is afflicted with a demon. A man who is hard of hearing and struggles to speak is presented to Jesus for healing; his friends beg for the Christ to lay a hand upon him. How many other avenues have these advocates sought for help and understanding? How many tears have they wept, grieving for and worrying about their loved ones? Maybe you think about your own life and experience in this regard; I sure do. In this gospel excerpt, each appeals to Jesus, offering their voice on behalf of the afflicted. “No” is a response each will bear no longer. For the Syrophoenician woman’s faithfulness and tenacity, Jesus heals the child without touching her. The unclean spirit is vanquished, and the girl is resting on the bed when the mother returns home. With the deaf man, we read of how Jesus heals him, opening his ears and loosening his tongue through touch and prayer.

Sitting with these stories of hopefulness and healing, I feel tension. I pray that God’s divine healing could miraculously restore the two children on my mind this morning, just as we read of Jesus healing others. The coming of Jesus into the world brought about the start of change – the reign of Christ as King. However, our work and struggle is not over. There is a tension of being in a state of “already and not yet”. There is this pull between what God has already accomplished through Jesus’ ministry, sacrifice, and resurrection, and what remains to be fulfilled in the future. We are waiting for the full realization of the Kingdom of God. And while we wait, our faith in God compels us to offer our hands, our hearts, and our prayers to support the vulnerable. Let us offer prayers for the spaces of hardship in our own lives and in solidarity with those around the world.

Always with God’s help,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

Are you familiar with the Christian theological concept of “already and not yet”? Learn more! Take 10 minutes and watch this video of N.T. Wright exploring this topic. Reflect on his teaching; spend another ten minutes journaling. Then, invite a friend to watch and discuss together, listening for what work is yours to do in the Kingdom of God today.

Paul and Silas and Holy Disruption - July 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; 2 Samuel 3:22-39; Acts 16:16-24; Mark 6:47-56

Several years ago, one of the publishing groups out of the Episcopal Church offered a Bible study on the book of Acts. They were encouraging the whole church to read Acts during the season of Easter. For me, it reawakened the profound story of Acts, easily my favorite of all the writings in the New Testament. It tells the story of the growth of the Church and how the disciples lived and shared their faith after the death and resurrection of Jesus. Acts gives us context for the Epistles.

Today’s story from Acts is fascinating. Paul and Silas encounter a young woman who is trapped, not only spiritually, but socially and economically. She’s a slave, exploited for her ability to tell fortunes. When Paul casts out the spirit, we might expect celebration. Instead, it’s the beginning of a riot, because her liberation costs her owners their profit. Paul and Silas are seized and dragged into the marketplace and accused of “disturbing our city.”  It’s a pretty unsettling story.

That moment says something profound: sometimes acts of compassion threaten people in power. Not because they are cruel, but because they expose the systems that are. Her healing reveals the injustice beneath the surface, and those who benefit from that injustice respond not with repentance, but with retaliation. They drag Paul and Silas into the marketplace, stir up the crowd, and have them beaten and thrown into prison.

It’s tempting to think of faith as something private, something that lives quietly in our hearts. That is true indeed. But Acts reminds us that faith also has the power to disrupt. Our compassion for each other can question entire systems. It can liberate the oppressed. And that can be unsettling to those who benefit from the way things are.

The good news is that God is in that disruption. As the church grew in those early days, God’s resurrection and healing love was indeed Good News because people found hope and healing in the love and compassion show each other, even when the world resisted. Maybe the same is true today too. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  Where have you seen compassion expose something you didn’t realize was unjust? 

We Might Be Wrong - July 28

Today’s Readings -  Psalm 56, 57, [58]; 2 Samuel 2:1-11; Acts 15:36-16:5; Mark 6:14-29

Families can be so complicated. Some take on the character of warring tribes becoming territorial over who sits where at the table or who chooses the movie to be watched after dinner. God forbid a child’s place in the family car is taken by another child. An all-out war could develop. Candy was a huge bone of contention in our house. My mom would on very rare occasions allow us to choose something as a special treat. It was either my favorite or my brother’s. He liked those nasty orange circus peanuts. I still cringe when I think about those things. The way I remember it, his was often the choice. I’m sure he probably remembers it the other way!

It was almost as bad when my mom would make us pick between pickled spiced peaches or apple rings for Thanksgiving. Why couldn’t we have both? Looking back some of our differences seem so trivial but at the time they seemed so important. I mean how important is a side dish opposed to family peace at Thanksgiving dinner?

National politics, social media, sports and religion all seem to have this same problem, and it’s not as though this is a new problem. Perceived favoritism, and unfair treatment of one tribe over another were two of the many factors that split the twelve tribes of the Kingdom of Israel, never to be reunited. And even that could be traced back to the contention and rivalry within the family of Jacob. Unfortunately, we’ve not learned much from the problems the Israelites faced. In this morning’s reading from I Samuel we see the results of family discord and rivalry that eventually resulted in the dissolution of what was once a thriving nation, connected not only through familial ties, but by a bond created by having been God’s chosen people.

Political groups, religious denominations and even rival sports teams, all seem to experience this same discord, sometimes with the same results. Do we always need to fight to the bitter end? No one wins when the other is left humiliated, stripped of their dignity or their homes and livelihood are taken away. Jesus was on the side of sitting down, talking and listening to one another however, even he wasn’t always successful. Agreeing to disagree is never easy, and compromise always comes at a cost. However, the cost of failing to try to heal divisions, or refusing to compromise, leaves no real winner. My ethics professor taught us that we should only enter a debate if we’re willing to consider the other point of view and admit that we might be wrong. Because it’s always possible, that we are wrong. That can be a hard pill to swallow but it may be easier than the alternative.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection - When was the last time you knew you were wrong, but just couldn’t admit it? Is it pride?  Stubbornness? Arrogance? What did you gain? What did you lose?

Saint James the Greater - July 25

Today’s Readings: St. James the Apostle
AM Psalm 34; Jeremiah 16:14-21; Mark 1:14-20; PM Psalm 33; Jeremiah 26:1-15; Matthew 10:16-32

Today is the feast day of James the Greater – apostle of Jesus. Through biblical texts we know him as one of the sons of Zebedee. James and his brother John are often together. This duo joined Peter with Jesus one day that took them up a mountain; during this holy hike, they witnessed what we know as the Transfiguration. According to lore, James went on mission to Spain following Jesus’ death. He was beheaded by order of King Herod Agrippa I (Acts 12:2); James’ body was transported to Galicia – a region of northern Spain – and laid to rest in what was then a forest. He is the patron saint of pilgrims, laborers, veterinarians, soldiers, pharmacists, and those with rheumatoid arthritis.

Following this summer’s visit to Spain, I see James in a different light. Our group of 25 attended the Sunday Pilgrims’ Mass at the Cathedral de Santiago de Compostela, where Saint James’ bones are held. At the conclusion of worship, the enormous thurible (called the Botafumeiro) was hoisted above the congregation and dispensed billowing clouds of incense. It was thrilling to behold the enormous metal censer swinging and smoking right above us. This was a special experience that does not always happen during Pilgrims’ Masses – and July 25 is one of those designated days, honoring the martyrdom of James.

After going down to the crypt to see his tomb, we walked up narrow stairs to a large statue of James that overlooks the ornate sanctuary. This larger-than-life rendering of the first apostolic martyr is available for a hug! I walked up the stairwell into the space, following one of our teens. When it was my turn, I put my arms around the enormous metallic shoulders and my head barely peeked over the saint’s right shoulder. I thanked James for the journey: for the amazing experience, for getting to be part of this story, and for the courage to persevere. Even now, I am surprised by how much I was moved by this tradition.

James’ pilgrimage began when Jesus called him as he and John mended nets and fished with their dad (Mark 1:19-20). He did not set out to help proclaim the good news of God in Christ Jesus, and yet he learned what it was like to be vulnerable, facing situations as sheep in the midst of wolves (Matthew 10:16). James was taught by Jesus how to speak truth, bring healing, and live faithfully at all costs. Marveling at his ministry and legacy, may each of us be inspired by the ways following Jesus changed James.

Faithfully,
Katherine+

Jesus in the Storm - July 23

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:49-72; PM Psalm 49, [53]; 1 Samuel 25:23-44; Acts 14:19-28; Mark 4:35-41

“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

I’ve been reflecting a lot recently on my voice, what it means to be a clergy person in 2025 and how to speak to the vast changes in our world, the deep sense of loss and insecurity for those who are most vulnerable. Scripture offers a window when we hear concern in the voice of the disciples in the boat as they rouse Jesus with the powerful question, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?”

It’s one of the most honest cries in all of Scripture. Spoken in panic, shouted above the roar of a storm, it captures the desperation we sometimes feel when life becomes overwhelming. The disciples, who we are told are seasoned fishermen, are terrified, not because they lack skill, but because the waves are simply too much. And Jesus is asleep.

Maybe you are wondering the same thing these days. We wonder, “Does God see? Does God care?”

But Jesus does wake. He speaks, and the storm is calmed. Stillness returns. And then he turns to the disciples—not to scold, but to invite them deeper in to the moment.  Jesus asks to challenging questions that are worthy of our consideration too. “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?”

Faith, it seems, isn’t about avoiding the storm. It’s about learning to trust that God is the one who is in the boat with us. It’s easy to believe when skies are clear. It’s harder, and more transformative, to believe when everything feels uncertain.

Storms are always a part of our story, since the beginning of time.  Sometimes they are moments in our individual lives and sometimes they are moments in the history of communities, places, and even nations.  Storms will always come. But faith anchors us. Not in certainty or control, but in our willingness to be in the boat, or maybe to be in relationship with each other through the storm. Because God is always near, and the story of our faith is to trust in God’s abiding love through it.

John

Questions for Self-Reflection: “Where in my life do I feel like I’m perishing, and how might I become more aware of God’s presence in the midst of it?”

Sower of Seeds -July 21

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 41, 52; 1 Samuel 24:1-22; Acts 13:44-52; Mark 4:1-20

Yesterday was my day to preach. I never take for granted that my message will hit home with anyone. The preacher does his or her best to find a way of making the scriptures from that Sunday relevant, include as much teaching as they think they can get away with and all the while hoping that someone, anyone will somehow hear something that draws them closer to God. The reality is, that you never know whether your efforts will resonate with someone or not.

Every summer part of our front yard becomes one huge patch of brown-eyed Susans. They began several years ago as one or two plants and every spring they reemerge, having multiplied into more and more. This past Spring I divided them, moving several big clumps to the backyard. I planted some in shallow spaces between rocks, careful to try to add as much soil as I could so they’d have a place for their roots to take hold. To my delight they’ve all taken root and already have begun to spread.

Being present to those around us can be a bit like that. We try to say those words that are thoughtful, helpful and perhaps, meaningful but we’re not always successful. I said something this past week that I didn’t think through, that wasn’t thoughtful or patient and wished afterwards I’d been more careful. I’d hate to know how often I put words out there, without thinking them through. Thanks be to God for the grace I’ve been shown.

Building the Kingdom has a lot to do with being thoughtful and kind with our words, and spreading the truth of the Gospel, as best as we can understand it. Unfortunately, we probably rarely hit the mark. Jesus knew this would be the case. His parable of the Sower creates a wonderful visual of how difficult this can be. Some seeds take root, some thrive and are fruitful, spreading more seeds. Some don’t. I wish there was a formula for getting it right, but there’s not. However, we can look to Jesus as an example of patience, of perseverance and of compassion and good will.

As a gardener I know some soil is better than others, some plants thrive, and others don’t and sometimes no matter how hard we try even our best efforts don’t take root. I have also learned that the efforts that are fruitful, those rare moments when we do hit the mark, are God’s way of saying don’t ever give up, keep spreading the seeds, don’t ever give up sharing the word.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection –Who is someone who has planted “seeds” for you? How did they do it? What are some “seeds” that you might plant as you work to spread the Kingdom?

David & the Bread of the Presence - July 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; 1 Samuel 21:1-15, Acts 13:13-25; Mark 3:7-19a

If ever you think that the Bible is dull or boring, read the First Book of Samuel. It is a riveting tale that I cannot put down…akin to the adventure and drama in William Goldman’s The Princess Bride. There are scenes of intrigue, romance, battles, and the voice of the Divine sounding in answer to prayers. If you’ve been following the Old Testament reading in the Daily Office lectionary for the last couple of weeks, you already are wrapped up in the excitement of David and King Saul of Israel.

Ever since he took out the mighty Goliath against all odds, David has been the shining star. The farm boy succeeds in battle wherever he goes, and the king is jealous. King Saul feels threatened and attempts to get the young man killed by every foe in the region. His son Jonathan is a faithful, dear friend (and brother-in-law) to David, and he works to mend the rift between the two men. Reconciliation with thin-skinned King Saul is short-lived and David must flee again.

He arrives alone in a place called Nob, a priestly city near Jerusalem. David seeks out the priest Ahimelech and asks for bread (for nourishment while evading Saul). The only loaves the priest has on hand are holy ones – called the bread of the Presence. They cannot be shared with just anyone; young men receiving the bread must “have kept themselves from women.” David assures the priest that he is worthy of the holy loaves. David asks Ahimelech for a weapon; the only one available is the sword of the Philistine of Gath, known as Goliath. Equipped with five loaves of holy bread and a legendary sword, he sets out. (Keep reading 1 Samuel to follow the saga!)

I keep thinking about that bread…the special bread of the Presence in the Temple. There were specific parameters of how to honor that holy bread. Did you know that in the tradition of the Episcopal church, we treat the consecrated bread and wine in a special way? Whatever is not consumed during or after the service is returned to the ground – either poured out, spread around, or buried…because it is more than just bread and wine. It has been made sacred through prayers and God’s blessing. And so, we return those gifts to the earth as best we can. Following a late-night Eucharist in Santiago, there were some crusts of fresh bread not consumed. As the roads were cobblestone and the trashcan was not an option for disposal, we toted the crumbs to the Spanish countryside and Finisterra, where they were distributed on the rocky soil overlooking the ocean…not far from where another group of Episcopalians were celebrating the Eucharist.

Whatever adventures are ahead of you, may you be nourished and cared for in unexpected ways, and may you receive the gifts given to you as special.

Faithfully,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

What is an item you have (or have had) that is more than just the thing itself? How do you tell the stories of that item and honor its sacredness?

Take time this weekend to share a story of this item - tell a beloved friend, or even meet someone new and ask them about a possession that feels sacred.

"I Do Choose" - July 14

Todays Readings - AM Psalm 25; 1 Samuel 18:5-16,27b-30; Acts 11:19-30; Mark 1:29-45

Once a month I find myself in the waiting room of the Infusion Clinic at UAB’s Kirklin Clinic. It’s a busy place, with people from every walk of life and every state of healing. People come from across town or as far as other states. They come with friends or family, and some come alone.

It’s virtually impossible not to overhear stories as patients share with the stranger on their right or left. You can hear in their voices the need to feel heard, the need to connect with someone who understands what they’re feeling, their doubts, their fears. Occasionally there will be a wave of recognition warm someone’s face as they realize they recognize someone they see each month in that same place. Almost everyone bears a palpable state of vulnerability. Just a smile can convey “I know, I’m scared too.” Strangers offer words of encouragement and comfort and even pray for one another.  Through the willingness to be vulnerable hearts are opened to one another and in those moments, Christ's presence is tangible. 

In today’s reading from Mark, the leper approaches Jesus and says, “‘If you choose, you can make me clean.’ I imagine anyone in that waiting room would jump at the chance, to be that person who kneels at Jesus’s feet and receives the gift of healing. Mark tells us Jesus was moved to pity and chose to heal. Jesus’ simple three words, “I do choose.” change the course of this man’s life.

Healing can come in many different forms. It’s not always in the form of remission from a disease or whatever else we think we need. Our spirits can be healed by someone who simply listens to our story. Aching hearts can be healed by a hug or a smile from a stranger. Our fears can be lessened by being reminded that Christ walks each step with us.

If we choose, we can be the presence of Christ. We can listen so that others feel heard in a way that’s compassionate and caring. We can share a smile or a word of encouragement. We can pray with strangers, and we can hold that light of hope for others that Christ always holds for us. Christ’s powerful words, “I do choose,” can be our very own spirit-filled words. 

In the shared glimpses of empathy, in the presence of those who silently cry and in the laughter that occasionally erupts, there are those rare moments when the bell rings, and we all rejoice together, silently saying, “Let us go forth into the world, rejoicing in the healing, compassionate, power of the Spirit. Alleluia, Alleluia.” 

Faithfully,

Sally+

Christ in Each Other - July 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14; 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Acts 10:1-16; Luke 24:12-35

Today’s Gospel is my favorite story in all of Holy Scripture. Two people encounter a stranger on the road, and only later realize it was Jesus. I especially love the moment when they say, "Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" That line reminds me that our sacred journey through scripture isn’t just about gaining knowledge. It’s about transformation. Faith has a way of reshaping how we see everything, especially how we see one another. When we immerse ourselves in the story of God, we begin to see with new eyes. Strangers become companions. The overlooked become beloved. And Christ appears in places we never expected.

A lot of the stories from the past few weeks have been really tough for me to process, so I want to offer a lighter image.  Just this week in Louisiana, a routine traffic stop became a moment of profound compassion. A sheriff’s deputy pulled over a speeding driver who explained he was on his way to a funeral and couldn’t get his tie right. Instead of merely issuing a ticket, the deputy knelt on the roadside and helped him tie it, an act of kindness that went viral as a reminder that humanity transcends duty. In that moment, the deputy saw beyond an offense, one that most of us our guilty of from time to time. He saw a grieving fellow human in need, and he chose to meet him with dignity and care.

So many of the divisions and wounds we face in the world today are rooted in our inability, or maybe even our refusal, to see Christ in one another. Whether across cultural, political, racial, or economic lines, too often we look at others and see difference or threat instead of dignity and belovedness. But our faith invites us into a different kind of vision. When we allow the Gospel to open our hearts, it opens our eyes. We begin to recognize that every person we encounter bears the image of God. And that, my friends, is the beginning of transformation. That is the foundation of hope.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  When have I failed to recognize Christ in someone I encountered? How has Scripture opened my eyes to see others differently?

A Change Maker - July 7

Todays Readings - AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; 1 Samuel 15:1-3,7-23; Acts 9:19b-31; Luke 23:44-56a

Today’s reading from Acts, describes how difficult it was for Saul after he was converted to convince his listeners that he was a legitimate voice for Jesus. Knowing what he had done in the past, would have made it difficult to believe him. I can be skeptical, but I am also very forgiving. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt - sometimes when I shouldn’t. I would have wanted to give Saul the benefit of the doubt but honestly, it would have been hard.  

Embracing change can be hard. In 2020, the website Medium published an article entitled, “For the Change Maker: 12 Powerful Reminders from Martin Luther King Jr.,” the author begins from the premise that in order to change the world, we must first change ourselves. It was written during the first year of the Covid Pandemic. He admonishes his readers that now is the time to be a changemaker. I would counter his advice by adding that every day, in every situation there is the opportunity for change, for us to change ourselves for the better. To learn something, to expand our understanding of others, of our world, of our communities.

MLK Jr., wrote, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.” Creating change requires action, it requires acting on our desires for change not just wishing that it were so. I’d love to lose weight but unless I change my eating habits and exercise more it’s never going to happen. It’s the same with our desire for change in the world, for better futures for our children, for the members of our society who have been disenfranchised. Discussing the issues, reading and educating ourselves are important first steps, but they remain fruit on the vine, with rich potential but of no benefit to anyone unless they are picked and eaten. Good intentions will eventually go to waste if not acted upon.

It's very likely that Saul would never have changed his beliefs if he hadn’t been knocked upside the head by God. Is that what it takes to eventually be shaken from our complacency? Does it take a cancer diagnosis or a near-death experience before we realize that we need to make our lives matter? Complacency is the easiest way out of any situation, and it can be the deadliest of all choices.

“Life is short . . .”  is the first line of my favorite blessing. Living a longtime isn’t what matters. What matters is how we live our life. Saul’s change may have been unexpected but something in him opened to hearing a new truth. Ghandi is quoted as having said, “If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change.” It’s your choices, your actions, that’s what makes you who you are.

Most changes are not as dramatic as Saul’s or as in 2020 when choosing whether to wear a mask or social distance was a matter of life or death. Sual embraced a change in himself that caused an infinite rippling effect on the development of the Christian Church. We’ll never know how many lives were saved by simply wearing a mask.

Sometimes the change that lasts is the kind that begins with small steps: speaking your truth even if it's not popular, taking time to really listen to those you don’t agree with or encouraging those who are struggling to change. What if each day we began by embracing just one small change in ourselves? What positive impact might that have for your life, for your health, your family, your community?

 Faithfully,

Sally+ 

 Reflection and Challenge - In our world today, the call for change often involves a call for peace, for healing of the divisions that we see everywhere, or a call to assist those who are disenfranchised. What one change could you make to be a change maker?

United along the Way - July 4, 2025

Today’s Readings: The Daily Office for Independence Day:
AM Psalm 33; Ecclesiasticus 10:1-8,12-18; James 5:7-10
PM Psalm 107:1-32; Micah 4:1-5; Revelation 21:1-7

249 years ago, a formal statement of separation from the rule of Great Britain was signed by 56 delegates from the thirteen colonies. Perhaps you learned to recite the Declaration of Independence in history class, or the words roll off your tongue when you sing along to the Broadway hit “Hamilton”: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” Thomas Jefferson and his contemporaries appealed to perspectives of philosophy, politics, and theology in this statement that moved our tenacious new nation toward what the founders understood as justice and interdependence as the United States of America. I commend to you on this 4th of July the transcript of the Declaration of Independence; it is fascinating to re-read the work in its entirety.

Does it surprise you that there is an observance in the Episcopal Church that assigns readings and prayers to this day? One of the readings for today imparts wisdom from Ecclesiasticus around living in community as people of the Lord: “A wise magistrate educates his people, and the rule of an intelligent person is well ordered… an undisciplined king ruins his people, but a city becomes fit to live in through the understanding of its rulers… Arrogance is hateful to the Lord and to mortals, and injustice is outrageous to both… The beginning of human pride is to forsake the Lord; the heart has withdrawn from its Maker.” (10:1, 3, 7, 12) Can you hear the relevance to the tensions at play for the colonies in America? The verses also speak to our common humanity when we turn from God and lean into sinful, selfish ways – for that is where distrust and destruction spread.

Another of today’s readings is from the prophet Micah, pointing to the hopefulness of God’s people in the land of promise. “In the days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains and shall be raised up above the hills. Peoples shall stream to it, and many nations shall come and say, ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths’…nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more; but they shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid; for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken.” (4:1-2a, 4)

More guidance is offered in the Letter of James: “You also must be patient. Strengthen your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is near. Brothers, do not grumble against one another, so that you may not be judged.” (5:8-9) Living as Christians means that we find ways to remain strong and united as the Body of Christ, amid our differences and disagreements. Similarly, as Americans we wrestle with how to remain the United States of America. We are bound at our core by the ideals of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of our country (which went into effect in 1789) – as a union. We are not independent from one another; we are a people-group. And it is not easy.

Having just returned home from walking the Camino de Santiago in Spain two days ago, I can tell you this: walking the Way of Saint James is not a space for isolation and independence. It is a path of community and togetherness, even in moments of loneliness or solitude. Millions from across the world have trod that path. People on foot, bicycles, and horseback…different faiths, languages, and experiences…we encourage one another and greet fellow travelers with “Buen Camino!” There is compassion and interdependence exhibited among friends and strangers.

I encourage you, too. This way of faithfulness and life is rugged at times. We get blisters and sores. We do not feel fully equipped to face the day’s challenges. So, slow down. Walk alongside someone else. Take in the beauty of the moment as the gift from God that it is. Eat a healthy snack and stay hydrated. Remain connected to the redeeming love of Christ, one breath at a time. Speak the truth to those around you, and remember to laugh, for the joy of the Holy Spirit brings inspiration into your very being.

Faithfully,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge 

What will you do to seek God's help in finding unity and interdependence this day and week ahead?

Letting go of Power - July 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:145-176; PM Psalm 128, 129, 130; 1 Samuel 12:1-6,16-25; Acts 8:14-25; Luke 23:1-12

Now that my son is 13, we’ve started watching some of the classic movies and shows that have predated his life. Films that are part of the cultural canon in a funny, nostalgic kind of way. Recently we watched together was Napoleon Dynamite. It’s a strange little movie from my time as a youth minister, full of awkward silences and oddball characters, but beneath the surface there’s a surprising amount of heart.

The story centers on an election. Pedro, the quiet and unassuming new kid, runs for class president against the cliquish and traditionally popular girl. His campaign slogan is bold and absurd: “Vote for me, and all your wildest dreams will come true.” In a world obsessed with control, influence, and appearances, that promise—however tongue-in-cheek—taps into something deep: the longing for power, for things to go our way. What wins the election, though, isn’t a strong speech or clever strategy. It’s Napoleon’s wildly unexpected and painfully awkward dance routine on Pedro’s behalf. (Jack refuses to learn the dance but did find it wildly entertaining).  In that moment, vulnerability and loyalty carry more weight than any campaign promise.

In Acts 8, we meet Simon the magician, who sees the apostles laying hands on people and the Holy Spirit descending upon them. He’s amazed, but not in a way that leads to worship or gratitude. Instead, he offers them money so he can have that same power. His instinct is to possess what he sees rather than participate in what God is doing. Peter rebukes him sharply, not because he desires something good, but because he misunderstands the nature of the Spirit.  It is not something we control for our own gain. It can only be received as gift, and something that we share in love.

So much of what is broken in our world can be traced back to our love of power—our need to dominate, to win, to be in control. From politics to relationships to religion, we are tempted to believe that the answer to our problems lies in gaining more influence or authority. But the Gospel tells a different story. It calls us to let go of control, to repent of our grasping, and to live instead in the vulnerability of love, in the unabashed relinquishing of grace.

The way of Jesus is not about acquiring power but surrendering it, trusting that in giving ourselves away, we will find the life that is truly life. That’s not just good news; it’s a revolution, one that will change our lives and albeit, the whole world. 

 John+

Question for Self-Reflection: Where in your life are you tempted to grasp for control or influence? And what might it look like to let go of that power in order to make room for love?

A Rock and A Hard Place - June 30

Today’s Readings:  Psalm 106:1-18; 1 Samuel 10:17-27; Acts 7:44-8:1a; Luke 22:52-62

“I know this to be true: The world doesn’t get great unless we all get better.” Jacqui Lewis

 Today’s gospel reading has always been one of the most heartbreaking for me of all the gospel stories. Every time I read it, I imagine the guilt and horrific shame Peter must have felt. This has been an ongoing dilemma in relationships since the beginning of time. Knowing the right thing to do and doing it can often be light years apart.

As adolescents age into adulthood they quite often are faced with this same choice. Bullying is nothing new. It has been part of the fabric of growing up long before we became so very aware of it. Peer pressure can bend and even break the strongest of good intentions. As a parent I’ve watched as my children have been the subject of bullying. Knowing the children involved can make it harder to understand because many of these kids have good parents and they’ve been kind, loyal friends. We know how devoted Peter was to his friend, his teacher, his Messiah. Why then did Peter choose to deny Jesus? What makes it so hard to do the right thing? A need to be accepted by others, a lack of maturity or insecurity, fear of rejection by your peers can all be factors. Fear of punishment, retaliation or even death can be some of the most persuasive influences we have.

Our youth feel this pressure every day. How do we prepare them to be in the world, confident and sure of their convictions when the adults in their lives may be struggling with these same dilemmas? It can feel as though we’re truly in that place where we have no good choices – the rock and the hard place. I recently found myself in a spot very much like this. I was scared to do the right thing and scared not to do it.  In the end the people around me whom I trust, who profess the same values I try to live by helped me realize who I was most concerned about pleasing.

Peter didn’t want to betray Jesus, we know that, and Jesus knew that. Jesus, however, knows our human frailties. He knows that if in the end when we choose wrongly, we will need his forgiveness and we will hopefully learn from our mistakes. Jesus forgave Peter and from the looks of it Peter learned to be strong in his convictions, to choose Jesus over other’s approval. Peter didn’t have this verse to remember but I call it up quite a lot: “For am I now seeking the approval of man or God?  . . . . If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ” (Galatians 1:10.)

Life never seems to get easier, there always seems to be a new challenge, a new difficult choice to make.  Following Christ is one of the hardest parts of our journey, and it can also be the one thing that makes everything else right. What I hope and pray for all of us is that when the choices get hard, we realize that we’re not alone and that we live in community with others who face the same problems the same difficult situations. Look to those you trust, pray for wisdom, instill in our youth this same wisdom - be someone a young person can trust. Remember: Everyone contributes to the fabric of this world. It won’t get better until we all contribute to the effort.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection: Have you made a decision based on peer or societal pressure you later regretted? If you didn’t have someone to turn to for guidance, who might you turn to today?  

The Promise of New Life - June 23

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 89:1-18; 1 Samuel 5:1-12; Acts 5:12-26; Luke 21:29-36

 After a forest fire when thousands of acres have been destroyed, leaving nothing but scorched earth, it looks as though nothing will ever grow again. However, months later green shoots begin to appear and before long the damage the fire has done gives way to more light and better growing conditions. The blackened earth, void of any signs of life, births nutrient rich soil feeding new life.

 Parker Palmer, in his book The Promise of Paradox, writes, “The way we respond to contradiction is crucial to our spiritual lives.” Paradox requires “both/and” instead of “either/or” thinking. This morning’s gospel reading is describing a paradox. It’s referring to what is known as the escaton or the end of time, the second coming of the Messiah.

 The escaton describes a time when everything that’s familiar will disappear however, it will be the fulfillment of the Kingdom – the fullness of time when all things will be well and there will be no pain and sorrow no more. Things may seem or appear to be contrary to what we expect. It’s a both/and sort of scenario.

 This can be difficult, especially today. Our culture seems more polarized or divided now than ever before, often resorting to “either/or” thinking rather than “both/and.” To embrace the paradox Jesus is describing is to take on a counter cultural way of thinking.  

The Gospel is full of counter cultural ways of thinking, endorsing a life that seems at odds with what our society encourages. In Luke, for example, the infant Jesus is both a new-born baby, and a Savior, Christ the King. His death on the cross was both a humiliating defeat, and a glorious victory.

Paradox refuses to be contained within an “either/or” space but requires that we expand our thinking to include possibilities that broaden the reality that lies before us. Today’s gospel reading from Luke is known as a “little-apocalypse,” full of metaphors and symbolism and never meant to be taken literally. Part of the threat or discomfort that apocalyptic writings produce, is that they predict a time when we will experience the destruction of everything as we know it now.

Regardless of whether it’s our health, our finances or just the simple effects of aging, we will all experience a loss of control, and we’ll need to learn to live with it, or it will undo us. It will be a both/and challenge. We will lose whatever illusion of control we think we possess but we can also embrace what life offers in that moment.

 Jesus doesn’t leave us without hope. The vision shared by Jesus this morning is assurance that even and maybe especially in the face of devastation—whether it’s a devastating forest fire, the result of human arrogance, or an unexpected diagnosis —there will be green shoots, the promise of new life. No matter how much it appears that the world is coming un-done, God’s way will always prevail. Be watchful and alert, prayerful and humble, trusting in God and patiently waiting for the eternal life only God can bring.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Thoughts for Reflection and Challenge - Have you ever felt as though you were going to implode under the weight of your fears or stress? Jesus will come to us not as a stranger, but as a beloved friend. How might you find ways to be present to Jesus during times of stress, fear or uncertainty? The SSEC clergy are available for suggestions on expanding your prayer life. 

Buen Camino!

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92  1 Samuel 3:1-21; Acts 2:37-47; Luke 21:5-19

At this time tomorrow, twenty-five pilgrims will be flying out for a journey to Spain. We will walk the last 100 km of the Camino de Santiago. We will walk to find ourselves. We will walk to grow deeper in relationship with God and one another. We will walk to listen for the ways God is calling us to follow the Way of Saint James – and the Way set out for us by Jesus Christ. This is a pilgrimage of faithfulness, adventure, and surely some fun.

Our band of pilgrims includes twenty teenagers from Saint Stephen’s and five (brave) adult chaperones. We will walk and pray, sharing meals and making life-long memories. There will be obstacles we cannot anticipate. There will be grace that we do not deserve.

The intention for this endeavor is for young people to practice spiritual discernment, apart from the other distractions of life. What big, beautiful things could happen if we invite these burgeoning adults to listen intentionally for God to call them? Are they too young for this kind of experience? We see in Holy Scripture (appointed aptly for today in 1 Samuel 3:1-21) that the boy Samuel served the Lord in the Temple under the priest Eli. As Eli’s eyesight diminished, the Lord began calling Samuel by name in the middle of the night. Samuel believed his mentor was calling. Eli knew more: “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Be still and listen, he advised. The Lord called Samuel. Prepared by the counsel of Eli, the boy responded, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Samuel shared the vision with Eli. As Samuel grew into a prophet, the Lord was with him and “let none of his words fall to the ground.” (v. 19)

The story of Eli, Samuel, and God inspires me today – that the Lord will call these twenty youths, as they search for what it means to be young people in this time. God will be calling my four chaperone friends and me, too. Our steps will be of prayer, nourishment, uncertainty, and glee. We will walk daily, embracing moments of silence and laughter. We will make new bonds of care and connection. All with God’s help and your prayers. Over the next two weeks, I ask that you pray “buen camino” for us – to have a good path, spiritually and physically – for that is the prayer that we will offer others we meet along the Way.

Faithfully,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

Each of us meets the Lord in varieties of ways. How do you listen for God? Do you need to be in conversation with others? Or silence and isolation? To be in nature? Set aside some time this week to pray and listen for God’s call for you. Journal and reflect on what the experience is like – for regardless of what we hear from God, our openness to listen shapes the way we live in faith.

Biblical Storytelling - June 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; 1 Samuel 2:12-26; Acts 2:1-21; Luke 20:27-40

Last Saturday, Sam Gilliam brought stories of Jesus to life in our parish hall—not as static words on a page, but as vibrant, human scenes full of texture and possibility. She invited us to step into the spaces the Gospels leave blank and to color outside the lines of our biblical understanding. One of those open spaces is the early life of Jesus. Apart from his birth and a brief temple scene at age twelve, Scripture leaves his childhood largely unrecorded.

It makes you wonder: What kind of boy was Jesus? What questions did he ask? Who taught him? How did he pray?

To reflect on that mystery, I’m drawn to a different child, Samuel, the young prophet growing up in the temple, whose story we find in 1 Samuel 2:12–26. In contrast to Eli’s sons, who abused their priestly roles, Samuel ministers faithfully before the Lord, even as a child. The passage says: “The boy Samuel continued to grow both in stature and in favor with the Lord and with the people.”

That same phrase is used of Jesus in Luke’s Gospel: “And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.” Sam had us in tears of laughter as she had Jesus asking “why” to just about every statement Mary and Joseph could ever make. 

It’s not hard to imagine young Jesus like Samuel—learning the rhythms of prayer, watching the grown-ups with quiet attentiveness, hearing stories of Moses and the prophets, asking big questions, and gradually sensing that God was calling him to something greater.  I’m sure Samuel asked his parents “why” a few times in his life.

What Sam Gilliam reminded us is that storytelling is more than entertainment—it’s theology in motion. When we wonder about Jesus’ early years, we aren’t rewriting Scripture; we’re stepping into it more deeply. We’re doing what Mary did when she treasured all these things in her heart, turning them over and imagining how they might speak to us today.

The story of Samuel tells us that God begins shaping us long before anyone sees the full picture. Maybe it’s true of us as well. Maybe the story of Jesus, like the story of Samuel, reminds us that divine purpose doesn’t wait until adulthood. It begins in the small, quiet, faithful moments. It begins when we listen.

And maybe that’s what faith invites us to do—to live with wonder in the gaps, to tell stories that point toward God’s grace, and to remember that even when Scripture is silent, the Spirit still speaks.  I hope you will watch her presentation here if you missed it, or if you just want to hear it again. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: What missing parts of Bible stories do you want to know?  How can your imagination help you deepen your faith?

Broken Bones - June 16, 2025

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 80; 1 Samuel 1:1-20; Acts 1:1-14; Luke 20:9-19

Three years ago today, the morning came as it always does. The day was probably a typical Alabama mid-June day, hot and humid with the possibility of a brief summer shower. To be honest I have no idea. I have no recollection of what happened in the hours leading up to what would change the lives of countless unsuspecting people forever.

I do remember exactly where I was when I heard the local news report there had been a shooting at a local church. I’ll never forget the panic I felt or the disbelief as my family along with many others gathered in the Publix parking lot, to pray and to keep vigil for the next few hours.

Of course, my memories are nothing compared to the memories of those who were impacted directly, those who were witnesses of the horrific act of violence, the first responders, or the family and friends that gathered at the emergency room waiting for news about their loved ones.

As I’ve been welcomed into the family of Saint Stephen’s the loss that was experienced that day, the pain that resulted and the heartbreak that continues to be manifested, has become incredibly personal. I treasure the joy I have experienced as well as the pain that has been shared with me, memories that continue to pay homage to the fractured hearts and lives.

As I read the reading from I Samuel for today and heard the heartache and misery Hannah experiences, the desperate way she turns to the Lord, pouring out her heart, her soul, I couldn’t help but feel her pain. Years of being barren, desperately wanting a child, of being forced to endure ridicule and bewilderment as to why God had seemingly turned his back on her feels so gut-wrenchingly real, a situation so many women face. However, she never loses faith, she never turns her back on God. She continues to look to God for support, for help.

Hannah’s pain and desperate pleas are a communal experience. As humans we all know these feelings, this desperation. They’re so familiar. The people of Saint Stephen’s know this pain, most likely some hsve felt forgotten by God, felt anger and a sense of abandonment. However, like Hannah this congregation has demonstrated a level of enduring faith that has brought fractured hearts comfort and shattered lives a path to wholeness and healing. I have heard bones that are broken, once healed are stronger than they were before. I think that applies to hearts and the Saint Stephen’s congregation as well.

May God continue to bless Saint Stephen’s with strong leaders, faithful witnesses and a spirit that refuses to see the evil in the world first but rather sees the glory and hope of God’s presence all around. May those hearts that begrudgingly resist to be healed, find comfort and healing and may we continue to look for the best in others and expect God’s presence to always provide hope.

Thoughts for Reflection: Has a traumatic event impacted your life? How have you recognized that event and taken steps to heal? If you are hesitating to seek help, what’s holding you back? There is help available. Contact one of our clergy, John, Katherine, Sally or Mary Bea. We can assist with information on local resources.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Thoughts for Reflection - Has a traumatic event impacted your life? How have you recognized that event and taken steps to heal? If you are hesitating to seek help, what’s holding you back? There is help available. Contact one of our clergy, John, Katherine, Sally or Mary Bea. We can assist with information on local resources

Get grounded - June 14, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 75, 76; PM Psalm 23, 27 Ecclus. 46:1-10; 2 Cor. 13:1-14; Luke 20:1-8

Today is Flag Day. The sun is shining and my kids are interacting in harmony. They are playing the National Anthem on kazoo and slide flute alongside our American flag as I try to focus and write. (It is not going well, as their play has morphed into a parade. A harmonica and drum, plus howling dogs, are now incorporated into the procession, and I just heard a few stanzas of “Kumbaya, My Lord” worked into the medley.) There is much joy in our corner of the world this morning.

Friends, I do not take the celebratory ambiance in this little household lightly. The giggles are fleeting…and I share the story to bring grounding to you, too, for there is more than just heaviness in the world around us. Yes, there is sickness and turmoil, grief and fear. Yes, people we love are ill, or far away, or in danger. Perhaps we are in pain or faced with no good options. Maybe the healing we had hoped to share is now met with more trauma.

I cannot know all the hard in your life, and I have weathered tension and disappointment in my own. As such, a prayer like Psalm 27 is a song of trust and individual petition that keeps me in conversation and connection with God. I need those spaces of grounding to remind me the fullness of human experience in God’s creation.

Take a moment to sit with this psalm in its entirety, or note these verses:

v. 1: The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? 

the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?...

v. 5 One thing have I asked of the Lord; one thing I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life; …

v. 7 For in the day of trouble he shall keep me safe in his shelter; he shall hide me in the secrecy of his dwelling and set me high upon a rock…

v. 11 You speak in my heart and say, “Seek my face.” Your face, Lord, will I seek…

The psalmist’s words can be quite meaningful in a time of unrest – either at home or in the greater world around us. Rather than focusing on the things that are passing away or stirring up division, the psalmist affixes their eyes upon God as the point of orientation and stability, the source of light and salvation. I imagine this type of focus as a remedy for motion sickness, when picking the one visual reference that is unmoving and steady, though the remainder of the surroundings are twisting, swerving, or rocking.

May God’s love, the light of Christ, and the courage of the Holy Spirit steady you today, as we wait patiently for the Lord.

Faithfully,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

How does joy and laughter build up your spirit so that you can persist in challenging situations? In the days ahead, what does it look like to reframe these moments of joy as holy gifts of nourishment and courage from God? Take note of what your experience is in reframing.

Slow Change - June 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; Deut. 31:30-32:14; 2 Cor. 11:21b-33; Luke 19:11-27

I just walked out of my first class on liturgical structure at Sewanee, where we’re studying how Christian worship has taken shape over the past two thousand years—especially the rites of Baptism and Eucharist. We’ll be reading early texts that reach all the way back to the 2nd and 3rd centuries. It’s a chance to dive deep into areas I couldn’t fully explore in seminary.

What strikes me most so far is how slowly and patiently our liturgies have evolved. Our prayers, our songs, and our sacraments weren’t born in a single moment; they unfolded over generations. Change, I’m learning, rarely happens all at once. It takes years, decades—sometimes a lifetime.

At the same time, I’m paying attention to how rapidly the world around us is changing—often faster than we can absorb. We’re living through a season of profound uncertainty and transformation, and we won’t fully understand the meaning of these days for decades to come.

Those two truths: one of slow formation, the other of fast-moving change. Both shape how I hear today’s Gospel.

In Luke 19, Jesus tells a story about a nobleman who entrusts his servants with resources while he travels. Some take risks and invest what they’ve been given. One buries it in fear. When the nobleman returns, he doesn’t reward flashiness—he honors faithfulness.

We live in a world obsessed with immediacy: instant results, instant impact. But God’s kingdom grows differently. It grows through steady, hidden, courageous work, the kind of work that often goes unnoticed but leaves deep roots.

So I wonder: Where is God calling you to be faithful, even when you can’t see results right away? What gifts have you been given, not to protect, but to offer with courage and trust?

Sometimes the holiest work is the slowest: raising a child with love, leading a group, community, or workplace with quiet integrity, planting a seed that won’t bloom for years, praying to forgive someone who has wronged you. 

May we be found faithful, not just in the dramatic moments, but in the small, sacred acts that shape a lifetime.

John+

A New Attitude - June 9, 2025

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; Deut. 30:1-10; 2 Cor. 10:1-18; Luke 18:31-43

This past week I spent an afternoon at Camp McDowell with the campers and staff at Special Session and another afternoon with the staff who had volunteered to spend the week in Greensboro with the campers who attended Sawyerville Day Camp. Both ministries serve youth and adults who for the most part have very few resources and look forward to these sessions from the minute they leave until they arrive again the next summer. I know from having spent time at Sawyerville the children in the surrounding area have no other summer activities other than what they are provided by attending Sawyerville. Very few have ever had access to a pool much less learned how to swim. Many of the Special session Campers live in group home settings and seldom have the opportunity to go swimming, dance or sing.

I realize I’m fortunate to have been exposed to these ministries. It could be easy to completely underestimate the impact they have on not only the campers but also the youth and adults who volunteer to be there. I can guarantee that many a college application includes an essay about how serving at one of these camps has changed the course of a young life.

When I hear the expression, “They did not have ears to hear or eyes to see,” that’s what I think about. We can pass right by truths, gems of information, glorious manifestations of God’s creation and we can completely miss them. We can miss the opportunity to see the kingdom.

In today’s gospel the disciples do not have ears to hear or eyes to see Jesus’ message. Then when they are passing through Jericho, they don’t see the opportunity to care for someone in need of healing. In many ways the disciples were as blind as the beggar who receives his sight.

After we returned from Special Session someone mentioned to me that he had what he described to me as an epiphany. As he sat there surrounded by people he cared about, folks of all sorts of abilities and stations in life, varied vocations and ages, he realized he was seeing the kingdom of God. It might have looked like a hot chaotic mess to some, but he saw the holiness in the moment. He saw the presence of God and he realized the kingdom was all around. What a gift that was for him and for those of us who shared that moment with him.

There are opportunities all around us to see the Kingdom, to make a difference, to help heal a broken heart or help a child learn to swim. If we don’t grab these opportunities as they come, we miss what could be lifelong treasures.

There’s a quote in Douglas John Hall’s book Thinking the Faith that I believe applies here:

"Jesus says in his society there is a new way for people to live:  you show wisdom by trusting people;  you handle leadership by serving;  you handle offenders by forgiving; you handle money by sharing;  you handle enemies by loving; and you handle violence by suffering.

 In fact, you have a new attitude toward everything, toward everybody. . . . . . . . Because in a Jesus society you repent, not by feeling bad, but by thinking different." Hall is describing life in “the kingdom.” Simply by considering what we see and hear with more intention we can make a difference.

 Questions for Reflection:

What are some ways we can stay focused to see and hear the opportunities to follow Jesus, to do his work? When was the last time you realized you had just missed an opportunity to serve God’s kingdom?

 Faithfully,

Sally+