Speak slowly - September 19, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73; 2 Kings 1:2-17; 1 Cor. 3:16-23; Matt. 5:11-16

I celebrated Eucharist at a local retirement community recently and one of the residents stopped me before the service and offered me guidance – speak slowly. Her request bubbles up for me this morning. So, I am sitting here with the gospel message and ruminating on what it means to speak slowly.

When we speak slowly, there are several assumptions at play that come to my mind:

·        we have something meaningful to say;

·        someone wants to hear the message – and understand it;

·        no one will speak over us while we are still talking.

When Jesus went up the mountain, as we read in Matthew 5, he sat down. His students and followers surrounded him, and he began to speak what we know as the beatitudes. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy,” and others. (Matthew 5:1-10) Jesus was teaching his friends and offering encouragement. He was equipping these normal people to do extraordinary things in ordinary exchanges of this world.

To deliver this message of the blessedness that can come from living in a space of vulnerability, I imagine Jesus speaking slowly and deliberately. I hear a measured tone. I wonder who he looked at in the crowd. I wonder if, as he worked his way down the nine statements of blessedness, tears began rolling down his cheeks when he spoke of those who would be persecuted for righteousness’ sake. I imagine that God’s love emanated from him as he shared these words.

Let’s remember, Jesus was not advising people in the highest seats of power and affluence. He dwelled among the average people. He offered a message of divine inclusion to those often excluded. The gospel appointed for today begins there: “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” (Matthew 5:11-12) The disdain and criticism of this world that seeks to break down and isolate people is nothing but dross; Jesus reminds his listeners of heavenly promise to come, though the brokenness of present is great. He reminds them of their progenitors, the prophets, who also endured hardship as they offered words of truth to a people scattered and absorbed in idolatry. Those who did this hard and holy work are not called for their own personal growth or glory, but to the glory of God – so that all may know that God is the Lord.

To get the message of hope across, Jesus speaks slowly. Rebuilding takes time when we are lost and broken. Jesus tells his disciples and listeners that they are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. The richness of connection among people is there upon that mountain – with people sitting together, learning, and being in harmony. Hearts and minds open for inspiration.

Before you read the news or go out into the world today, hold fast to this Good News, spoken slowly for you to hear and absorb: know you are blessed when you are vulnerable, for God is not yet finished with you. Look for the blessedness in others, exhibiting empathy and showing mercy. Live as people who Jesus sees as salt and light. Receive his words of encouragement this day: “You are the light of the world…let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

With God’s help,

Katherine+

Repentance as the Beginning of Discipleship - September 17

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 72; PM Psalm 119:73-96; 1 Kings 22:1-28; 1 Cor. 2:1-13; Matt. 4:18-25

I’ll be honest—I’m having trouble making sense of the world right now. The violence, the disregard for human life, the relentless stream of brokenness in the news—none of it makes sense. And this isn’t the reflection where I’m going to explain it all.

In fact, I stumbled into today’s Gospel reading almost by accident. I clicked on the wrong link and ended up reading yesterday’s passage first, where at the end, Jesus proclaims, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (Matthew 4:17). Today’s reading begins immediately after that moment, with Jesus calling ordinary people—fishermen—to be his disciples (Matthew 4:18–22).  Maybe we need to include the readings for the days we skip so that you can get a fuller picture.

The two are inseparable. Repentance and discipleship always go hand in hand. Repentance isn’t about shame or guilt, but about turning, reorienting, examining ourselves honestly so that we might see the world, and ourselves, through Christ’s eyes. And discipleship isn’t about building some huge following.  I mean, Jesus called people with nets and boats, people worked and lived rather ordinary lives to be the ones who could share his vision for life.

That’s still the call today. I sure would love to blame others for the mess we are in.  And discipleship begins with repentance.  I know that I have been quick to judge, slow to forgive, and used my words in ways that didn’t build up the body of Christ.  Surprise, surprise.  I still have work to do.  I’m guessing I’m not alone in that.

When we stop, repent, and practice humility, Jesus takes ordinary people like you and me and invites us to follow. We may not be able to make sense of all the chaos around us, but we can take the next faithful step. Repent. Follow. Trust that God will use ordinary people to heal the world.  We need it more than ever, and maybe it begins with you and me and some real honest self-examination.

John+

 Questions for Self-Examination: “Where in my own life do I need to pause, repent, and reorient so that I can follow Jesus more faithfully in the ordinary, everyday places?”

The Ultimate Paradox - September 15

Today’s Readings - Holy Cross Day Psalm 66; Numbers 21:4-9; John 3:11-17

Holy Cross day is not one of those days that in my experience many churches celebrate. I was made aware of it many years ago when I was contacted about a banner, I created for the Mississippi ECW delegation who attended General Convention. A priest had seen the banner and reached out to ask if he could include a photograph of it in a book he was writing about Holy Cross Day - the banner prominently featured a cross.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which was dedicated on the 14th of September 335, is thought to be built over the sites of Jesus’ crucifixion and burial. Thus, September 14th “has become a day for recognizing the Cross as a symbol of triumph, as a sign of Christ's victory over death, and a reminder of His promise. "

This year at Saint Stephen’s Holy Cross Day fell on the day on which we recognize those in recovery from addiction or struggling to achieve a state of recovery. Our Recovery Sunday liturgy focuses on the grace of acceptance and forgiveness that is often denied those dealing with addictions. What better symbol when considering the grace of forgiveness and the hope of salvation than the cross? After Constantine legalized Christianity in the 4th century the cross became an outward symbol of not only Jesus’ sacrifice but also of the mystery of the gift of reconciliation and forgiveness of our sins.

Today when you enter our home, you are greeted by a whole wall of crosses, each one given to me, or bought marking a special occasion. Each of my children had one hanging over their bedroom door as a reminder of the blessing of Jesus’ love for each of them. The cross represents to me Jesus’ sacrifice but also the joy that comes with Jesus’ gift of love and forgiveness.

Today’s gospel speaks of the outpouring of love God has for us and the ultimate sacrifice Jesus made as an acknowledgment of God’s grace and forgiveness rather than condemnation for the sins of the world. These are the very same messages that those who need forgiveness and acceptance the most find so difficult to embrace.

The cross is a sacred and holy reminder that Jesus feels our pain, our grief, and our humiliation. It is also a reminder that when Jesus tells his followers, "take up your cross and follow me," that to take up his cross, there is a cost - they must deny themselves and be willing to suffer or even give up their lives for his sake. 

The cross is the ultimate paradox – it is at the same time both a symbol of the worst that humanity can do and the most incredible, ridiculously generous, amazing gift anyone could ever offer or receive. Open your heart and breathe in the gitf of a lifetime!

 faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - What is it that the cross represents for you? Do you ever think about the cross in terms of the responsibility it brings to those who carry it? How does your life reflect your response to Jesus’s commandment to take up his cross and follow him?

Spiritually Starving

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; 1 Kings 18:20-40; Phil. 3:1-16; Matt. 3:1-12

The other day, I came home after an active day and grabbed a handful of peanut butter pretzels. I had not eaten much that day but did not notice I was hungry. There was so much else going on that food was not on my mind. Once a few of those savory pretzels registered with my brain and I slowed down enough to pay attention to my body, I realized I was really hungry. I simply had filled the moments and hours with other things - leaving my system yearning for nourishment. Starvation due to busyness and distraction. Can you relate to such an experience?

I heard a story this week that opened my eyes to this idea of starving through distraction. This man in his 40s is going through a hard time. The kind of hard time that defines the trajectory of one's life. You see, his dad's cancer has worsened and is now under the care of hospice. Time is short. He is heartbroken and not ready to say goodbye to his dad, or ready to walk with his kids through grief. Church is not always a place he gravitates toward...he's not opposed to attending, but it has not been a priority. Work and golf have been his outlets for connection up until now. Prayer is not in his weekly routine.

And then, someone sends a few specific prayers to him so that he can pray at his dad's bedside, and pray for himself and his family. Like a cactus that blooms when rain waters the desert sands, the man opens up. The prayers invite him to feel and connect with God in a way that surprises him. The man has not realized that he has been spiritually starving. The prayers bring him some solace and courage as he sits with his dad.

Maybe this story resonates with you - and where you find yourself today. If it is hard to find the words to say with God, or you are out of the habit of praying, the Book of Common Prayer has a whole section beginning on page 814. Another prayer - suitable for the tumultuous times in Holy Scripture we read today, or the chaos in the world about us in 2025 - is called "In the Morning". Take a moment to sit with these words and ask God to prepare you for whatever is ahead:

This is another day, O Lord. I know not what it will bring forth, but make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be. If I am to stand up, help me to stand bravely. If I am to sit still, help me to sit quietly. If I am to lie low, help me to do it patiently. And if I am to do nothing, let me do it gallantly. Make these words more than words, and give me the Spirit of Jesus. Amen.

Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge 

What is a distraction keeping you from being open and available to God? Take a few minutes to sit still and wonder. Write down what feels like a roadblock. Name that space of resistance in prayer to God. Give thanks for the space of honesty and safety that comes in prayer with our Lord.

Seeking God - September 8

Today’s Readings -  Psalm 41, 52; 1 Kings 13:1-10; Phil. 1:1-11; Mark 15:40-47

In Today’s Epistle to the Philippians, Paul prays for the people of Phillipi.  In Ephesians in the chapter just prior to this one he speaks with a sense of urgency to the people of Ephesus on the importance of prayer, but do we really know or understand prayer?

Prayer is one of those intangible mysterious yet vital parts of our spiritual lives. There are over 650 prayers in the Bible and 25 different instances of Jesus praying. The number of times the word “pray” or variations appear varies depending on the translation. For example, the word ‘pray” appears 547 times in the King James Version and 322 times in the English Standard Version. You get the idea – prayer is a very important part of our biblical heritage.

But what is prayer? There’s not one right answer. Prayer can be extremely personal with multiple methods and types of prayer; however, what’s ultimately most important is that we do it. That we take time each day in some way to have a conversation with God, reaching out to someone who has already reached out to us in love. And that’s really all prayer is - sacred time spent in conversation with God, listening hopefully more than speaking. God places within us the desire to be in relationship. God initiates the invitation, inviting us to reach out to share our deepest thoughts and feelings. It’s on us to respond.

In a memoir I’m reading, The Choice, Dr. Edith Eva Eger takes her readers through a painfully detailed account of her time as a prisoner in Auschwitz during WWII. After she and her sister are rescued by the Americans and she begins to recover from her injuries, she recounts her prayers during their imprisonment and after. She notes the loss of faith in God by others who felt abandoned by God. They could not fathom a God who would allow the Germans to kill and torture thousands of people with such brutal disregard for human life.

The author states that she never thought of what happened as a result of God’s absence or disregard for their lives but rather she felt God’s presence in the tiny moments of comfort and in the way they found the briefest relief from their torture. She chose to believe in a God who would not have granted her survival while allowing the horrific deaths she witnessed.

Herein lies the problem with prayer. What are our expectations? Do we think if we pray hard enough or if we’re deserving, we’ll be granted our request? And if our prayers aren’t answered, is it perhaps because we haven’t prayed hard enough, or lived faithfully enough? When we read that Jesus encourages others to pray, it was so that they might ultimately grow in their faith and dependence on God, so that they might achieve a closer union with God not so they can manipulate or change God’s mind.

Prayer connects us to God by acting as a sacred conversation allowing us to share our deepest thoughts, fears, and desires while also receiving God’s guidance and peace, creating a deeper relationship over time. Through prayer, we express gratitude, concern for others, our love for God while we align our hopes with God’s will and receive comfort.

Paul encourages the church of Phillipi to focus on their prayer life, all the while knowing that for them as for most of us the act of praying will remain a mystery. However, Jesus assures us that our prayers matter, mystery or not, so we pray.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Challenge and Reflection - Take time today to consider renewing or possibly beginning for the first time a dedicated time each day to pray. Trust that God hears your prayers. Remember, Jesus teaches that if we seek God we will find and be found by God. Saint Stephen’s has a variety of resources for developing a prayer life and our clergy are available to help you find what you need.  

Can our divisions cease? - September 5, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 31; PM Psalm 35; 1 Kings 11:26-43; James 4:13-5:6; Mark 15:22-32

The scriptures from 1 Kings and Mark have a thread in common today. They both include stories of torn clothing that is divided – and remind me of the divisions among us.

In Mark 15, we pick up in the crescendo of Jesus’ final moments with a story that is sad and familiar. Jesus is taken to Golgotha, crucified, and the soldiers divide his clothes, gambling for who will get which piece. They play this game, diverting their attention from the gravity of public execution and dehumanizing the one who God sent to save humanity from sin.

In 1 Kings, we read a less familiar story of Jeroboam, a servant of King Solomon. King Solomon was known for his great wisdom; however, he strayed in faithfulness to God. He “loved many foreign women” from Moab, Edom, Sidonia, and other lands. He sacrificed to other gods and built shrines in honor of them. The Lord was angry with Solomon and warned that adversaries would be raised up because of the king’s divided loyalties. The lowly Jeroboam was approached by the prophet Ahijah one day. Ahijah tore a new cloak into twelve pieces – and told Jeroboam a message from God: “I am about to tear the kingdom from the hand of Solomon, and will give you ten tribes. One tribe will remain his, for the sake of my servant David and for the sake of Jerusalem…” Word got out to King Solomon and Jeroboam fled to Egypt until Solomon’s death. Jeroboam fought and became the first king of the Northern Kingdom (Israel), while Solomon’s son Rehoboam was king of the Southern Kingdom (Judah). The division of the fabric of Israel’s tribes was painful, and it helped define the stories of God’s people through time. This scripture is a reminder that even today the Holy Land is a space of division and discord.

The divisions among us – in land, in loyalties, in faith, in relationships – are not new. “Can’t we all get along?” was the plea Rodney King cried during the Los Angeles riots in the 1990s. I am not certain if all divisions will cease in this age. It is part of our human condition to stumble into or seek out separation. I am reminded to lift my eyes, voice, and life to God. Join me in praying today for harmony in the spaces of division that surround us. I offer for you the prayer For the Human Family within the Book of Common Prayer on page 815:

“O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Always with God’s help,

Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

Reflect on where you see divisions in your sphere of existence. Who are the players? What are the themes at the center of tension? Journal about what your role is, and what is yours to do today.

Pray for the spaces of tension and division that are apparent to you, and ask God to equip you as needed to speak and act in love for harmony.

Costly Grace - Costly Words

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 38; PM Psalm 119:25-48; 1 Kings 9:24-10:13; James 3:1-12;  Mark 15:1-11

It’s September, which means my weekly reading class is beginning again—a rhythm that always offers me food for thought and often gives shape to my own practice of self-reflection. This month we are reading The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Written in the midst of Nazi Germany, the book is an exploration of what faith demands from our life. At its very beginning, Bonhoeffer draws a sharp contrast between “cheap grace” and “costly grace.”

Cheap grace, he says, is forgiveness without repentance, baptism without discipline, communion without confession. It is grace as an idea, a cover for our own complacency, a way of saying “God forgives” without changing anything in our lives. Costly grace, on the other hand, is grace that demands something of us. It is freely given, yes, but it calls us to repentance, to amendment of life, to discipleship that costs us comfort and control.

I’ve been thinking about this in light of my sermon two weeks ago on the bent-over woman in Luke’s Gospel. Grace lifted her up after eighteen years of suffering. Grace liberated her, and we are called to extend that same liberating grace to others. I still believe that to be true, but Bonhoeffer reminds me: grace is not only gift, it is also calling the demands our life be liberated from complacency. It requires something of us—our honesty, our repentance, our willingness to change.

That brings me to James today. James writes about the power of words, reminding us that the tongue is small but mighty, capable of blessing or cursing, of setting the whole forest aflame. What Bonhoeffer calls “cheap grace” often comes through cheap words, words of easy forgiveness, shallow promises, or careless speech that cost us nothing. But “costly grace” shows itself in costly words, words that heal, words of apology, words of truth spoken in love, words that sometimes demand our humility or our courage.

If grace lifts us up, then our words are often the way God chooses to carry that grace to others. The challenge is that it costs something to speak words of blessing rather than words of destruction. It costs us something to speak truth in love instead of shallow comfort from our own complacency.  It costs us patience, humility, and attention. Yet James insists, these small words carry enormous power. 

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How does the reflection of cheap vs. costly grace resonate with your own faith journey? 

The Way the World Could Be - September 1

Today’s Readings - Psalm 25; 2 Chron. 6:32-7:7; James 2:1-13; Mark 14:53-65

This past weekend Saint Stephens. Holy Apostle’s, Hoover and Christ Church, Tuscaloosa came together for a combined parish retreat at Camp McDowell. One last hoorah to commiserate the end of summer. Some of my favorite time at camp includes porch sitting, telling stories, and getting to know people I might not ever have gotten to know in any other setting. We laughed until my sides hurt, and we debated the merits of pranks that while hilarious may be at the other person’s expense. I was definitely in the minority. In this debate. You’d think after over 30 years of my husband’s pranks I would have learned to appreciate them or at least found a way to get even but he always outdoes me.

My other favorite time at camp is the pasture party. On the last night we all gather in the softball field, unfold our chairs, spread blankets and enjoy conversation as we watch the pickup games begin, discuss the merits of our favorite football team, watch the children chasing fireflies, while balancing a plate loaded with a camp burger or hotdog, chips and all the sides.

On Sunday morning we gathered in St. Francis Chapel for Eucharist. In John’s homily he highlighted the pick-up kick ball game from the night before. Players ranged in age from 5 to 50 and all took a turn at kicking the ball, running the bases and scoring, no matter how talented, or not they each were given the space to have fun with abandon – no judgement if the ball went two feet or fifty.

The message from today’s epistle is similar to that of the one from yesterday’s gospel. Of all the honors and riches, we can possess that of love for one another, respect for all and humility rank the greatest of all. The value of allowing one another to have space enough to be themselves, to feel welcome and comfortable just as they are can never be underestimated. To demonstrate genuine humility, to allow time and space for those who may be different, who may not possess the stature or economic status, the intellect or advantages that we have been granted. We find real treasure when we see these traits, not seeking the better seat at the table or rubbing elbows with the ones with fine clothes or wealth.

As I stood behind the altar Sunday morning, sharing the space with fellow clergy and looking out at the many faces I love, I was reminded of all the reasons I love Camp McDowell, of special people I’ve met and the memories I will always cherish. I was filled to overflowing with gratitude. It was hard to imagine a space or time that could be more perfect than those precious moments that morning.

Bishop Kee once said that Special Session is the way he anticipates heaven will be – a place where all are respected, loved and can be comfortable just being who they were created to be. That was the way the weekend felt. If you’ve never attended the parish retreat, I encourage you to put it on your calendar, Labor Day weekend 2026. Come be a part of the way the world could be.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection - When was the last time you considered stepping to the rear of the line, or encouraged someone struggling to achieve something seemingly insignificant but important to them? What would it cost you to be less important in order to allow someone else to have their special moment?

They come in threes - August 29, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 22; 1 Kings 5:1-6:1,7; Acts 28:1-16; Mark 14:27-42

There is a saying about things happening in threes. Usually those “things” are unwelcomed challenges, rather than happy spots of joy. For example, my car has had a string of issues lately. New brakes, with follow-up adjustments. A nail lodged awkwardly in the sidewall of a tire. And yesterday: three rocks. Three little pieces of gravel were trapped between the rotor and the heat shield in my front tire. An unbearable metallic racket erupted whenever the wheels moved – like nails scratching a chalkboard. It rendered my car undrivable, and we called for a tow truck. The mechanic said my car is going through a season of poor luck and suggested an exorcist. I laughed!

While my car issues have not sent me into a “pity party,” repeated disappointments and loss can make resilience tough. We look at our own lives and the losses in our world. We turn our eyes to God and ask, “Are you even here? Are you with me? Are you with us in this?”

God’s answer comes through Jesus, “I am with you always, even until the end of this time.” (Matthew 28:20) Jesus knows disappointment and heartache, and he endures through it. In Mark’s gospel today, he and his disciples go to Gethsemane after the lovely meal we call the Last Supper. Jesus asks them to sit with him while he prays, “Remain here, and keep awake.” While deep in prayer to God about the hard sacrifices ahead, Peter, James, and John cannot keep their eyes open. Jesus finds them sleeping and asks that they stay alert. It happens three times. They want to support their friend – and yet they fail. They don’t even know what to say to explain themselves.

The thrice disappointment of Jesus’ friends does not shake his love for them. He goes to them and says the time has come for them to proceed to the next thing, facing examination by the high priest and the authorities – and is ultimately sentenced to death.

Jesus models steadiness in the face of disappointment and uncertainty. He does not ignore the hardship. He faces circumstances and people with grace and honesty. Surely he tired of hard things happening in threes…and he is with us when we are there, too. Take heart this day, in the face of joys and disappointments. God loves you and you are not alone.

Always with God’s help,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

 Lift up prayers today for those who are having an "off" day, with challenges to the left and right. Pray that they feel God's closeness this moment.

Be attentive to those around you today who need some extra grace. Send a letter of hope. Sit on the porch with someone who is lonely.

Pooh Bear - August 27

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:1-24; PM Psalm 12, 13, 14; 1 Kings 3:1-15; Acts 27:9-26; Mark 14:1-11

Not too long ago, I opened the door to my son’s room before heading to bed. There he was, sound asleep, snuggled tightly against his old Pooh Bear—the same one he has had since he was an infant. Its fabric is worn, its seams are stretched, and to anyone else, it might look like something ready for the trash. I know this stage in his life is disappearing so that moment of seeing what he has always found so important was important to me. To him—and to me—that stuffed animal is precious. That bear has absorbed countless tears, shared endless nights of comfort, and traveled the journey of his childhood. What someone else might dismiss as nothing special is, in fact, a treasure.

That’s what comes to mind when I read about the unnamed woman who anointed Jesus at Bethany. She pours out an alabaster jar of perfume—something costly and extravagant—over his head. Those watching are quick to criticize: “What a waste! That could have been sold and given to the poor.” They cannot see what she sees.

Of course, we know Jesus as extraordinary.  But in that room he looked like an ordinary rabbi, a teacher surrounded by followers. No one else in that moment recognized the depth of who he was or what he was facing. Yet she did. She saw something sacred, and she responded with extravagant love.

Jesus defends her: “She has done a beautiful thing to me… she has anointed my body beforehand for burial.” The others measured her action by economics, efficiency, and logic. She measured by love.

Faith so often asks us to see differently, to notice the holiness in the ordinary, to recognize beauty where others see waste, to value love more than logic. Like my son’s bear, the value is not in what it looks like or how much it costs, but in the story it carries and the love it embodies.  Maybe this is why as Christian’s we are called to hold each other, every human being as the most precious gift and responsibility of our faith because in the best of circumstances humans are the perfect embodiment of someone’s love and we should at least assume that about each other. 

The question for us is this: what do we see as precious that others might overlook? And are we willing, like the woman at Bethany, to pour ourselves out in extravagant love, even when the world calls it wasteful? Maybe it’s the people that our culture sees as not necessary or pushes to the margins of society. Maybe it’s our time that we so easily fill when we pull out our smart phones. Maybe it’s in the relationships we have let fade. There is so much that is precious because it belongs to God and we just have to see how important it is to the one who made it.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: “What do we see as precious that others might overlook? And are we willing, like the woman at Bethany, to pour ourselves out in extravagant love, even when the world calls it wasteful?

Modern Day Prophets - August 25

Today’s Readings - Psalm 1, 2, 3; 1 Kings 1:5-31; Acts 26:1-23; Mark 13:14-27

There’s a line from the Epistle that was chosen for today that struck me as I was considering today’s readings, “. . . get up and stand on your feet . . .” Jesus told Saul on the road to Damascus to stand up because he had work for him to do. It reminds me of a song from the ‘70s written by Bob Marley and Peter Tosh, “Get Up, Stand Up.” They were inspired to write the song while touring in Haiti after witnessing the extreme poverty of the Haitian people.This song in particular speaks to Marley and Tosh’s experiences of growing up in Jamaica where they fought for their religious freedom. During the seventies the Rastafarian religion was being attacked, and so they employed their music to bring awareness to the oppression and the religious freedom and equality they were denied.   

The irony isn’t lost that of all the people Jesus could have chosen for God’s work Saul was the least likely candidate. Saul was the worst of the bad guys. He not only persecuted the followers of Jesus but in many cases executed them for their beliefs in Jesus as the Messiah. Truth is however, he was perfect for the job. If there’s ever been someone who could model what a life lived in the glow of God’s grace of forgiveness is it was Paul.

I wonder if we listen to those words Jesus spoke to him as distant observers, or do we hear those words as if spoken to us? Jesus speaks to each of us when he says, “Stand up.” Stand up for what you believe in, stand up for those who have no voice, share the light of forgiveness for those who can’t imagine that they could ever be forgiven. If you feel unprepared, unworthy, can you imagine what Saul must have felt?!

Marley and Tosh knew what it was like to suffer for their religion, to advocate for freedom from oppression. These Rastafarian soulmates were unlikely modern-day prophets who stood up for what they believed in. Did they increase awareness? Did they inspire others? They probably did, however, Rastafarians still face persecution and discrimination related to their spiritual practices. There is so much more work to be done. There are pockets all over the world, including the United States where people cannot practice their faith freely without fear of persecution and so many who yearn to hear the words, “you are forgiven, come take your place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.”

The light that comes from the Good News is the simple truth that we are all offered the same forgiveness and grace from God; however, it doesn’t come without cost. Saul, or who we know as Paul, suffered for his beliefs as do people still. I know I find it hard at times to speak my truth to the powers that I encounter. Yet Jesus continues to say, “Stand up, find your voice.” In whatever way you feel empowered, speak up, share the light of Christ and tell the story of freedom from the power of sin, the power of the risen Messiah. Believe it or not, you too can be a modern-day prophet.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Reflection and Challenge - When was the last time you felt afraid to speak up? What would it take to find the courage to “Stand up,” to speak up for those who cannot or will not? To share the good news? Ask God for the courage to do that which we are given to do.

Deliver me, O Lord - August 22, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 140, 142; PM Psalm 141, 143:1-11(12)
2 Samuel 19:24-43; Acts 24:24-25:12; Mark 12:35-44

During an online continuing education course this week, I heard some lovely and inspired prayers used to open our sessions. The convener prayed for God to bring focus and vulnerability, peace and meaning to our time together. Her words were profound and poetic.

I come away with a different feeling after perusing and praying through the psalms appointed for this morning and evening in the Daily Office:

“Deliver me, O Lord, from evildoers; protect me from the violent, who devise evil in their hearts and stir up strife all day long.” (Ps. 140:1-2).

“I cry to the Lord with my voice; to the Lord I make loud supplication. I pour out my complaint before him and tell him all my trouble.” (Ps. 142:1-2).

“O Lord, I call to you; come to me quickly; hear my voice when I cry to you.” (Ps. 141:1).

“Lord, hear my prayer, and in your faithfulness heed my supplications; answer me in your righteousness. Enter not into judgment with your servant, for in your sight shall no one living be justified.” (143:1-2).

These four psalms’ opening verses strike tones of urgency and agony. My shoulders are tensing up, just thinking about them! And yet, there are times when these prayers are the ones we need upon our lips. What liberty and honesty can come from saying and feeling these words. We receive permission to name the heaviness upon our hearts to God and to one another. When we do not speak the truth of pain in our lives, it oozes out in other ways – in anxiety, in fits of rage, in destructive behaviors, to name a few.

If these psalms are not what you need to put voice to hardship today, that’s okay. Tuck them away for a time when it feels like all is lost or upside down. These prayers of deep appeal to the Lord remind us that we have companions in our sorrow. We are not alone in the depths. We still have much to learn – and the prayers of the psalmist can center us and help us name our desire: deliver me, Lord, so that I can praise you more and more.

Always with God’s help,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

Revisit today's psalms. What does it feel like when you name the heaviness upon your heart? Who is a confidante and prayer partner for you in the anguish? 

If there is a hard time upon you, connect with someone you trust. Confide in them. Ask them to pray for you. Pray for the Lord's guidance along the way. God is faithful, even when the way is hard and long.

Render unto God - August 20

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:145-176; PM Psalm 128, 129, 130; 2 Samuel 18:19-33; Acts 23:23-35; Mark 12:13-27

In the Scriptures, it feels like religious leaders are always seeming to play games with Jesus, trying to prove he is a fraud and entrapping him in some religious violation of the law. In today’s reading, first, the Pharisees and Herodians asked about paying taxes to Caesar. Later, the Sadducees tested him with a convoluted riddle about resurrection. Both groups were trying to box Jesus into a corner, using politics and law to control the conversation.  Sound familiar?

But Jesus wouldn’t play by their rules. Holding up a coin, he pointed out that Caesar’s image is stamped on the money. What might be implied in the message, and certainly in our theology is that God’s image is stamped on us. He told them to give Caesar what belongs to him, and to give God what belongs to God. Then, to the Sadducees, he reminded them that God is not the God of the dead but of the living, showing that their legalistic puzzles couldn’t contain the mystery of resurrection.  When our burial liturgy says, “You are dust and to dust you are returned” it is implied that you were created by God, stamped with the image of God, and to God you return.   

What strikes me here is the limit of human power. Caesar’s empire was vast, but it didn’t extend to the eternal. The Sadducees’ logic was sharp, but it couldn’t capture the reality of God’s promise. Systems of government, laws, and cultural arguments—they may dominate the headlines, but they do not shape all aspects of our life. In fact, they fall short of the

In our own complicated time, it’s easy to feel crushed by the weight of politics, institutions, and even the tangled logic of social debates. But Jesus reminds us that all of these forces are temporary, limited, and fragile. They can affect how we live, but they cannot define who we are, and how we are called to love each other. We belong to God, and the God we belong to is the God of the living that calls us into the way of Jesus Christ.

That doesn’t mean we ignore the world around us. We still “render” what is due, we still participate as citizens, neighbors, and stewards. But we do so knowing that no human system is ultimate and by virtue of being human our earthly systems are by their nature, broken and sinful.

So maybe the invitation today is to loosen our grip on fear about the powers of this world. To see them in perspective. To live with the confidence that the God who made us in his image, who raises the dead to life, still holds us—and all creation—in hands that no Caesar can reach.  And thanks be to God.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: “Where in my life do I feel most pressured by the powers and debates of this world? How might I remember that my truest identity is stamped with the image of God?”

For the Love of Fig Trees - August 18

Today’s Readings -  Psalm 106:1-18; 2 Samuel 17:24-18:8; Acts 22:30-23:11; Mark 11:12-26

For as long as I can remember I’ve had trouble with the gospel passage for today. You see since I was very young some of my fondest memories are of the fig trees in my life. We had a huge fig tree in the corner of our back yard where I lived until the second grade. Its branches reached down to the ground and way up into the sky, arching over our fence. I could climb it, hide in its leafy shadows and eat anything the birds didn’t get to first. Whatever was left my mother would make into fig preserves, which I also loved.

The house I lived in while I was student at UGA had a huge fig tree, too. When they would come ripe, I could pick a grocery bag full each day, until they were all gone. Not long after we moved into the house where we live now, we planted one in our backyard. It was just a little stick of a tree when we planted it and now its branches are reaching over our back fence and most summers there are enough figs to make preserves.  One summer we traded figs for eggs with a neighbor who has chickens. Another summer I was in the hospital when they came ripe, and our neighbor picked them and preserved them for me – now that’s a gift of love. Stan can spot a wild turkey in a field from as far away as the length of several football fields, but my ability to spot a fig tree rivals that. I have a true affinity and love for those beautiful trees.

Now, to the point of this parable. I know Jesus isn’t just picking on fig trees. He’s trying to teach his disciples the power of faith; faith or trust in God and the power that comes from earnest true belief in the power of prayer. I’ve always been told that the true power that comes from prayer is how prayer changes us. It helps us to understand our dependence on God and the endless infinite possibilities born of faith. It provides us with time for reflection on being the hands and feet of Christ and our need for God’s presence in all we attempt. It helps us to see how what we pray for might not be what is actually needed. God sees our needs much more clearly than we ever could.

Jesus emphasizes the priority prayer should take in our lives even over and above our self-interests and greed for prosperity and wealth. Above all Jesus stresses that as we pray, we pray for those whom we need to forgive, so that we might be forgiven by our father in Heaven.

Of course, I realize I’m missing the point of this passage but seriously, why couldn’t Jesus have chosen a date palm instead? I could easily have gotten over that. I guess it’s time for me to forgive Jesus for his harsh treatment of that fig tree, I’m sure I’ve done much worse and heaven knows he’s forgiven me.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - How often do you take time to be still and quiet in the presence of God? What does prayer look like for you? Prayer can be anything you need it to be. When was the last time you stepped back and looked at your life? If you did that today, what might you see? How might prayer change your life?

Mentor Mary – August 15, 2025

Today’s Readings: St. Mary the Virgin:
AM Psalm 113, 115; 1 Samuel 2:1-10, John 2:1-12
PM: Psalm 45, or 138, 149;
Jeremiah 31:1-14 or Zechariah 2:10-13; John 19:23-27 or Acts 1:6-14

This week, my nine-year-old son is adjusting to fourth grade. He is frustrated with a schoolmate who does not listen and causes the class to miss out on recess. It is a deep injustice in Robinson’s eyes. He often works out this disappointment once he gets home – and he is more fervent when he is tired and hungry…I get it. Last night, Robinson flared up each time I asked him to do simple tasks: bring in the mail, set the table for dinner, and other routine requests appropriate to a kid his age. He refused. He dug in, going silent and steely. Something was on his mind. It took parenting steps and missteps to get him to share what was wrong. There were tears, hugs, and apologies. (Full disclosure: I hurt my son’s feelings during the exchange. Parenting is humbling.) Sam and I know our kid, and many times we know what he is capable of accomplishing.

Maybe that is why so many people identify with Mary, the mother of Jesus. We hear more stories about her presence in her son’s life than her husband Joseph. Mary knows what her son can achieve – and she is there for him. She encourages him and can speak to him at a level where he will listen. They have a connection point that is deep and holy. At the wedding in Cana of Galilee (John 2:1-12), we read of Jesus’ first miracle during his ministry. The guests finish off the wine and Mary goes to Jesus. “They have no wine,” she says. “Why is that a problem for you to bring to me?” he asks – maybe with a slight tone of indignation. Mary does not respond to Jesus. Instead, she turns to the stewards of the beverages and advises them, “Do what my son tells you.” Mary knows what Jesus can do. He brings great gifts to spaces of blessedness and hope – like a wedding. He just needs a little time to get ready.

Isn’t that a beautiful gift the mentors in our life can give us? They affirm that we can show up and make a difference. They help us see ourselves in a new light. They show us how we can mirror God’s love in little and big ways. They pray for us as we grow. And so, we reach out to our mentors for wisdom and encouragement. We need mentors like Mary, the mother of Jesus, to face the hard and joyous spaces of life. I give thanks for the witness and blessing of St. Mary this day.

Prayerfully,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

 Jesus and Mary are deeply connected as son and mother. With whom do you have a special connection? Reflect on how that relationship has enriched your life. What stories come to mind? Where are the hopes and the challenges? Journal about what that love means to you today. Pray for God to guide and nurture that space of goodness in your life.

The Sin of Greed - August 13

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144
2 Samuel 14:21-33; Acts 21:15-26; Mark 10:17-31

Our Gospel lesson for today was recently one of the Sunday morning readings as well, so I’ve been sitting with it for a while—the story of the rich man who runs up to Jesus, eager and sincere, asking what he must do to inherit eternal life. He’s kept all the commandments. Then Jesus looks at him, and says, “You lack one thing. Go, sell what you own, give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.”

The man turns away, grieving, because he has many possessions.

Our country is in a tricky place—that may be the understatement of the century—but it’s worth looking beyond this moment to a deeper spiritual reality that has shaped humanity far longer than our current moment. Many say America’s original sin is slavery. But perhaps an even more encompassing answer is greed, which made the horrors of slavery possible.  And at every crisis we face greed is there stoking the flames of division.

Greed may be the trickiest of all sins—trickier than pride, envy, or anger—because it hides so well. It slips quietly into our lives, disguising itself as responsibility, security, even generosity. We might tell ourselves, “I’m just being wise” or “I’m planning for the future.” Those things are good—but greed twists them until accumulation becomes the quiet ruler of our hearts.  There is not a doubt in my mind that greed as at the root of the problems we face in our culture today.

Greed fuels injustice, deepens poverty, drives conflict, and feeds the fear that there will never be enough. It whispers that what we have is ours alone, and that giving it away will leave us with less, when in fact, in God’s economy, generosity is the currency of freedom.

When Jesus tells the man to sell all he has, he isn’t laying an impossible burden on him.  He is  offering him freedom. He’s inviting him into joy, into a life unbound from the anxious grip of “more.” The tragedy is that the man walks away sorrowful, still chained to what he owns.

I wonder how often we do the same.

So maybe the question isn’t only, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” but also, “What am I holding on to so tightly that it keeps me from following Jesus with trust, joy, and hope?” If we can name it, we can repent of it, and in God’s grace, find the freedom and generosity for which we were made.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: “What am I holding on to so tightly that it keeps me from following Jesus with trust, joy, and hope?”

Clare of Assisi - August 11

Today’s Readings: Ecclesiastes 5:8-15 Psalm 49:16-20 1 Peter 4:1-2 Luke 1:32-34

 Clare of Assisi was born in 1194 into a wealthy family in the city of Assisi, located in a region of central Italy. Another well-known religious figure was also born there, St. Francis of Assisi. It was Francis Clare approached after hearing one of his sermons to ask for advice on how she could live a life according to the gospel. At the age of 18, Clare made the decision to devote her life to Christ and took vows to live a life of poverty, following in Francis’ example. 

Clare’s sisters, her mother and her best friend all eventually, joined her, becoming a religious order in the Franciscan tradition known as the Poor Clares. They devoted themselves to caring for the sick, the poor and the neglected, always with an emphasis on prayer. Their daily lives were defined by a strict rule of poverty, which included extreme piety, depriving themselves of all pleasures including beds to sleep in or meat to eat, eating only the food they received by begging. After Clare’s death at the age of 59, the order was renamed the Order of Saint Clare in her honor. The community of Poor Clares or the Order of Saint Clare still exists today in the Roman Catholic Church as well as in the Anglican communions.

 In the gospel chosen for Clare’s feast day, August 11th, Luke reminds us of those things that give us a false sense of security. What Jesus is asking us to do is to have faith, to trust in God’s willingness and desire to care for us. Placing our sight on something beyond our earthly desires is tough. It requires us to loosen our grip on those things to which we cling so tightly, and to open our hearts to receive those things that are unseen, God’s promises of the Kingdom to come; to have faith and to trust. As Hebrews tells us, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” It is by God’s grace that we have the faith that sustains us, but it is up to us to choose to live into that grace. 

 Clare was an inspiration to the women of her time. Even with the severe austerity of the Poor Clares, young wealthy women from Assisi were drawn to join them. They became the face of Christ for those to whom they ministered. How might we be the face of Christ in our own communities, in our own way? God’s grace is ours to embrace, the hope that is generated and the compassion that it represents is invaluable to all it touches. May God grant us the wisdom to hold God’s grace and the faith God imparts as treasure within our hearts. 

 faithfully,

Sally+

Reflection and Challenge - Take time today to consider who in your life has been the face of Christ for you. How might you be the face of Christ for someone else? Is there someone in your life who needs to be reminded that they are a beloved child of God?

Nathan and David get honest – August 8, 2025

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92
2 Samuel 12:1-14; Acts 19:21-41; Mark 9:14-29

People see us in our beauty and in our heartbreaks. As we weep in traffic. As we laugh while talking on the phone at the gym. We cannot always control how others receive or understand us. Sometimes we get insight into how we are seen. The other day, I picked up my car from the mechanic. I saw a piece of paper with my phone number near a set of keys that resembled mine. The paper was askew, so I turned to see the name written atop the paperwork. In pink pen was written “Preacher Girl”. Saying nothing of the moniker, I held up the keys to show I’d found mine. I chuckled as I walked out; the person who drew up my paperwork revealed how he saw me: Preacher. Girl.

I called Sam to share and laugh. I have been called a “lady priest”. People have mistaken my clerical collar as a turtleneck or a neck brace. “Preacher Girl” was a new one! We humans are apt to name people as we see them through our own context. When one learns those thoughts, the result can be amusement; at other times, the truth is upsetting or hard to accept.

The latter is at play in today’s reading from the Second Book of Samuel. King David met Nathan the prophet, not long after the lovely Bathsheba is widowed. David seduced her during wartime while her husband was away. The king surreptitiously ordered that his subject and competitor-in-love – Uriah the Hittite – be sent to the front lines. The plan was for the rest of the troops to fall back, leaving the man exposed. Uriah died at the hands of the enemy, with David nowhere in sight.

Nathan, however, is aware of this and tells the king a parable of deep injustice. David is disturbed by the unscrupulous nature of the entitled character who wronged the poor man in the tale. The prophet speaks hard truth to the king: he is the embodiment of the bad man. He speaks of the Lord’s favor in David’s upbringing and the Lord’s deep disappointment in his transgressions. Hearing the honesty of Nathan, David confesses, “I have sinned against the Lord.” What hard and tearful words those must have been. The prophet responds, “Now the Lord has put away your sin; you shall not die.”

It is not always comfortable to get a glimpse at how people perceive us. So, let us live into God’s grace and love as we interact with others. When we are entrusted with truth, may we receive it with openness to understand and grow. And when we hurt one another, may we confess to God and our neighbors to honor our Lord, who redeems and reconciles in miraculous ways.

Always with God’s help,
Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

Sit with this biblical story of truth-telling between David and Nathan. Journal about where you are in that story today.

What is painful? What is hopeful? How can God guide you in growth in light of this piece of scripture?

The Nudge of the Holy Spirit - August 6

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 119:97-120; PM Psalm 81, 82; 2 Samuel 9:1-13; Acts 19:1-10; Mark 8:34-9:1

Two Sundays ago, I was chatting with a family out on the patio after worship. We were talking about how boisterous the summer services have been—combined services, more kids in the pews—and they asked, half-joking, if I’d heard their four-year-old son “speaking in tongues” during the Eucharist. It was a playful comment, tongue-in-cheek—pun absolutely intended—but it made me hear today’s reading from Acts a little differently.

In Acts 19, Paul encounters a group of believers in Ephesus who’ve received John’s baptism, but haven’t heard of the Holy Spirit. He lays hands on them, and something stirs.  Some end up speaking in tongues like our four-year-old that Sunday morning.  Well not exactly.  Others prophesy. People receive spiritual gifts, each different, but all are changed from who they were before.

We don’t often speak in tongues in our tradition—but we do recognize that the Holy Spirit is a part of our life.  We say when someone is baptized that they are “sealed by the Holy Spirit in Baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”  That is a promise made to each of us.   What strikes me is how the Holy Spirit meets us differently, but always personally. Some of us are moved by a sense of calling that comes quietly and over time. Others feel a jolt—a sudden insight, a sharp turn in the road. Some recognize the Spirit through service, or music, or prayer, or even a conversation on a patio. There’s no singular path or pattern, but there is a consistent promise: the Spirit is given. And it is a source of strength, wisdom, and even healing in our lives. 

That little boy, joyfully babbling in the middle of worship, may not have known he was echoing a deep truth—but he reminded me that the Spirit sometimes just shows up and sometimes in surprising ways.

John

Questions for Self-Reflection:   How is the Holy Spirit moving in you right now? What nudges, what stirrings, what whispers have you noticed?

Hope for the Future - August 4

Today’s Readings - Psalm 80; 2 Samuel 7:1-17; Acts 18:1-11; Mark 8:11-21

I recently completed my third year as the Session Director for the Elementary I session at Camp McDowell. We had 125 rising third through fifth graders. This is one of my very favorite age groups and so I choose to forget each year that it will likely be the hottest of all the sessions. I do it for the campers but also for the young adults who serve as the staff. Many of them I’ve come to know through camp and some I’ve been fortunate to know as they’ve grown up. The majority fell in love with camp as campers and then when they became old enough, applied to serve on staff. One of these is our youngest son. Their energy and love for camp and for each other is inspiring and contagious.

Camp is their home away from home and the other staff as their family. One of the older counselors told me “Camp is our Church.” They’re impressionable, loyal to a fault, sometimes naïve, and their emotions can run full throttle. A member of the staff told me, “Our generation tends towards knee-jerk reactions,” what I describe as reacting rather than acting. Which in truth is characteristic of being young and unfortunately some of us older folks, too.

They are the heart of what happens at camp and a big part of what makes it so special to so many people. A mom reported that her son lost a tooth while at camp during my session and that the tooth fairy came, bringing Gatorade and other surprises. That’s just one of the many ways the staff help these campers create memories that will last a lifetime.

In today’s gospel Jesus asks, “18Do you have eyes, and fail to see? Do you have ears, and fail to hear?” The disciples are worried about something tangible believing it’s what they require for sustenance when what they need is simply to trust that Jesus will provide all they require and more. I’m afraid we all occasionally fall into this trap, doubting we have what it takes, thinking we need measurable success to succeed in life. We tend to get hyper-focused on the latest problem and miss the big picture, often investing in a fairy-tale perfect scenario that never happens. It can take a lifetime of experience to trust that sometimes what we thought success looks like isn’t necessarily what in the end sustains us with a soul filling sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.

 Jesus must have taught and retaught the same truths to the disciples dozens of times and yet it took the resurrection to convince many of them. Learning to trust and have faith in God’s all-encompassing presence and love can take years. What if this younger generation becomes discouraged and disillusioned with the divisive ways the of world and even of the church and gives up on all of it?

 In John’s Daily Reflection from last week, he reminded us that God’s healing love and compassion can bring hope even when the world resists. I believe in the potential of our youth, and that we can be the face of Christ for them, modeling the love and compassion they need to have hope, to keep believing in the infinite mysteries of love and faith. They are the future of the church, a future we need to invest in with every ounce of compassion and patience that we can muster to ensure they have what they need to succeed.

 Faithfully,

 Sally+

Reflection and Challenge - Do you have a young person in your life that you care about? When was the last time you intentionally spent time with him or her? Take the time to listen, to share your faith story and ask them to share theirs.