Daily Reflections based on Daily Lectionary of the Episcopal Church written by the clergy of Saint Stephen’s.

Sally Herring 9/23/26 Sally Herring 9/23/26

No Test Needed - September 23

Today’s Readings - Psalm 119:97-120; Esther 6:1-14 or Judith 10:1-23; Acts 19:1-10; Luke 4:1-13

It’s a cliché, but we’ve all seen it in movies or on T.V. One of the characters is desperate for help. Maybe, their child has gone missing, or they’ve gotten into some kind of legal trouble. Whatever the situation they try bargaining with God. They say to God, “If you will bring my child home or get me out of this mess, I’ll do anything you want me to do.”

And then, when whatever they asked for doesn’t happen they get angry and proclaim that there is no God, or God isn’t all powerful or God could have answered my prayer if only God wanted to do it. Bargaining with God is nothing more than a test of God’s ability to help us or maybe a test of God’s love for us.

We had a friend a few years ago whose family member was killed in NYC on 9/11. She had been loosely associated with the church for most of her life but after her cousin’s death she lost all desire to be affiliated with church. She blamed God for his death several years later, she was still angry at God. She was convinced God could have saved her cousin if God had wanted to.

I also knew another woman whose stepson was in one of the Twin Towers on 9/11. She reacted very differently. Everywhere she looked she could see God at work. She could see how God had been and remained present to so many people who had been in New York City that day. Her forgiveness of those who perpetrated the tragedy, and her attitude became well known and she was asked to speak to other families who were going through similar losses of their own. Her calm sense of peace in the midst of tragedy was healing to others. She was interviewed by a reporter who asked her why she wasn’t angry at God. She told him that God had been no more responsible for those thousands of deaths than God had been absent when Christ died on the Cross.

In today’s gospel Satan tempts Jesus by proposing that he test God’s love. Wisely Jesus refuses. He replies each time with a quote from the Hebrew scriptures. Scriptures that tell the story of a covenant relationship between God and the Hebrew people. A mutual relationship that is a testament of God’s never-ending love and devotion to God’s people, as well as their commitment to God.

Jesus is the manifestation of the second covenant, an extension of God’s promise to the Hebrew people that extends not only to the Jewish people but also to the Gentiles and to all people, of every race and nationality. Jesus does not replace the first but fulfills and broadens it. It’s a promise of God’s unconditional love, grace and forgiveness. In return we are asked to love our God with all our heart, mind and soul and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

Our God does not dance on a puppeteer’s strings. We don’t need to test God’s love, the way a young child might test his mother or father’s love. There is no stronger testament of God’s love for us than the gift of God’s only Son. It’s a love that needs no proof or test.

faithfully,

Sally+

Question for Reflection and Challenge - How do we consciously or inadvertently test God? Why do we need the reassurance that might come? How might we learn to live resting in the assurance of God’s infinite love and presence?

Katherine Harper 9/21/26 Katherine Harper 9/21/26

Bold, direct prayers to God

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 80; PM Psalm 77, [79]; Esther 4:4-17; Acts 18:1-11; Luke (1:1-4), 3:1-14

I have taken to offering direct prayers to God. For example, my daughter’s close friend on the cross country running team has pain in her hip and is going to physical therapy weekly for treatment. At last week’s 5K race, I prayed that her run would be pain-free. When chatting with her dad on the north Alabama course and told him my prayer, he said, “Well…that’s a bold prayer.” Yep!

This morning’s psalm backs up the practice of bold, direct prayers to God. The psalmist asks the Lord God for help. Note the action verbs voiced in prayer to the “Shepherd of Israel”: hear, shine, stir up, come, restore, show, save. These words call out to awaken a distant or disengaged God to cajole a glance from the heavens, as the people need YHWH to get involved in the lives of humanity. They thirst for holy strength and steadiness, as well as for restoration and direction. With the glow of God’s face, salvation is possible.

The psalmist – surely reflecting the collective desire of the Israelites in exile – repeats three times: “Restore us, O God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.” The Hebrew people want to go back to their homeland in Israel. They want to be invited, like Moses was, to draw near to God and experience the divine presence. They pray for salvation – not just a spiritual protection in the hereafter, but a timely, somatic deliverance from hunger, slavery, disease, and oppression.

The Jews in this psalm are deeply afflicted. They feel that God is angry with them. There is much weeping. Neighbors jeer at them. And yet, these faithful people cling to their roots as the psalmist poetically retells the story of Israel in the Holy Land, with cedar trees, mountains, and limits touching the sea and the river. Through war, “beasts” broke down that greatness with brute strength and fires. The Israelites call out for God to preserve their land, rebuke enemies, and return life to the Hebrew people. “Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.”

Maybe you are wondering how God can let a hard thing happen in your life, or in the world around you. Perhaps in the past you’ve known a space of sadness that felt unbearable, with each moment sucking more life away. It is not easy to reconcile the pain in your life and mine, and I do not know that there is a good – or satisfying – answer to the whys we implore God.

Here’s what I do know: I have felt the comfort of the Holy Spirit and the wholeness that comes when prayers surround me. I believe that the Lord God shines the light of divine countenance upon us and will never leave us. Indeed, we shall be saved. May Psalm 80 equip you today in your bold, direct prayers to God: “Turn now, O God of hosts, look down from heaven; behold and tend this vine; preserve what your right has planted.” (v. 14)

With God’s help,

Katherine+

Connections in Your Life

Reflect on Psalm 80’s demonstration of bold, direct prayer to God. Practice what that can look like in your own prayer life. Ask someone how you can specifically pray for them, too. What feels meaningful in this exercise? What feels challenging? Journal about what you notice. And keep praying!

John Burruss 9/18/26 John Burruss 9/18/26

September 18 - Following Jesus

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 69:1-23(24-30)31-38; PM Psalm 73: Esther 1:1-4,10-19 or Judith 4:1-15; Acts 17:1-15; John 12:36b-43

It’s September, which means my reading group is back at it. We are reading Practicing the Way: Be with Jesus, Become Like Him, Do as He Did by John Mark Comer. Comer gives language to something many of us have come to realize but perhaps have not articulated as clearly: our faith is expressed in how we live. Following Jesus is not only about believing certain things; it is about practicing what Jesus taught and learning to live as he lived. And you can’t just do it because you believe something. Just like learning to run a marathon, practice helps turn you into the person you are trying to become.

Comer begins by exploring the call narratives in the first chapter of Mark, where Jesus invites his first disciples, “Come, follow me.” Comer places this invitation within the world of Jewish education and apprenticeship. These fishermen were not the obvious candidates to become a rabbi’s disciples, yet Jesus chose them. He gave them an invitation they may once have dreamed of receiving: to leave their old lives behind and become apprentices in the rabbi’s way of life, something that had only been open to the very best and brightest in their culture.

Makes a little more sense why they would leave everything behind.

Comer also reminds us that every one of us is being shaped and formed. Culture, family of origin, news, social media, friends, and countless other influences teach us what to value and how to see the world. Social-media platforms are so incredibly profitable precisely because our attention can be captured and our desires and beliefs influenced. None of us lives outside these formative forces.

Choosing to follow Jesus, then, is a decision to be formed differently. That is part of what it means to become a disciple.

We can see this struggle over formation in today’s reading from Acts. Paul and Silas arrive in Thessalonica, where Paul reasons from the Scriptures that Jesus is the Messiah. Some people are persuaded, but others respond with jealousy, gather a crowd, and stir the city into an uproar. The people of Berea respond differently. They receive the message eagerly and examine the Scriptures daily to see whether what Paul is saying is true.

I love the balance we see in the Bereans. They are a probably a model for our faith, and if it we take it seriously it can be pretty disruptive. “These people who have been turning the world upside down have come here also!” Wouldn’t it be great if people said the same about us!

Perhaps that is one way we practice the way of Jesus today. We pay attention to what is forming us. We receive the good news with open hearts, return to Scripture with open minds, and allow the Spirit to reshape our lives. The question is not whether we are being formed, but by whom—and into what kind of people.

What is shaping the way you see the world today? And what daily practices are helping you become more like Jesus?

Faithfully,

John+

Sally Herring 9/16/26 Sally Herring 9/16/26

The Gift of Life - September 16

Today’s Readings - Psalm 72; Job 42:1-17; Acts 16:16-24; John 12:20-26

I’ve recently been reading Everything is Tuberculosis written by John Green. In the words of the author, it’s “the history and persistence of our deadliest infection.” To say the least it has been eye-opening. Green tells the story of how misconceptions, false assumptions and half-truths have spread and proliferated one of humankind’s deadliest diseases. Like many diseases its initial appearance was met by bewilderment and confusion. No one knew what it was or how it was caused much less how to treat it or prevent it’s spread. Much of what was assumed initially only helped to spread the disease and prevented hosts of infected people from accessing care. Ultimately 1000s of people died before there was any sort of treatment that had any chance of healing those already infected. Initial drugs proved to be toxic, painful and difficult to access. Patients who had no idea what the outcome would be agreed to taking medications that had no proven record of success. Sometimes in life someone, something must die for there to be life.

As drugs were developed and trials began, scientists worked on combinations of medications and strengths and as they tried one thing after another, patients continued to get sick, to worsen and to die. Then there was the realization that there were a variety of bacteria that fell under the umbrella of Tuberculosis. So, with this realization treatment became even more complicated.

What I was struck by as the author tells this incredibly sad history is how difficult it must have been for the physicians to stand by helplessly watching patients who were struggling to access treatments, to survive long enough for the medication to have a chance to work. And then once proven treatments had been developed, they continued to watch as the poorest areas that desperately needed the drugs were unable to access the medications that could save 1000s of lives.

“Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” This is probably one of the most unfortunate and difficult facts of life. A couple who once loved one another faces what has become a toxic relationship with the realization that their covenant of marriage must die before they will be able to have the life they once thought they could have together. A child must break the ties that parents and children share from birth, creating a new relationship in order to begin life as an independent adult, the life all parents desire for their children. God let go of his only son, begotten not made, to die on the cross in order that we might have eternal life.

Relationships change, they die and are reborn in ways that are more creative and lifegiving. Patients die as drugs are developed that ultimately save 1000s of people, a grain of wheat dies so that green shoots can emerge to bear multiple full heads of grain. The Son of God dies, giving his life in faithful obedience, knowing his life, death, and resurrection will grant eternal life to all of those who believe in him.

We are each the hands and feet of Christ. What can we give of ourselves so that someone else might have life and have it abundantly? So that someone else might know the face of Christ. The loss of a few minutes spent talking to a friend who’s depressed? A few dollars to a worthwhile charity? An afternoon reading to children in a classroom that lacks the resources all children need? Participating in a clinical trial for a medication that has the potential to save lives? What part of ourselves can we give back to God so that others might have life and have it abundantly?

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - What can we give up, what part of ourselves can we sacrifice, in order that there might be more life for someone else?

Katherine Harper 9/14/26 Katherine Harper 9/14/26

Division and Strength

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 56, 57, [58]; PM Psalm 64, 65
Job 40:1-24; Acts 15:36-16:5; John 11:55-12:8

In the New Testament epistle today, we read about Paul’s travels to check back in with churches planted along the Mediterranean Sea. He and colleagues went back “through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches” (v. 40) Good happened there, and we read that there was a cost associated with this, too.

In Acts 4:32-33, we read of this early community of Christ-followers, described in this way: “Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all.” They were of one mind. As the shape of ministry matured, we read further in Acts that Paul often took the lead, though there were multiple leaders among the traveling band of brothers.

In Acts 15 while the crew was in Antioch, the choice to revisit previous sites was made by Paul. Barnabas wanted to bring John Mark along. Paul disagreed, because John Mark had left them earlier in the journey, missing out on the fullness of ministry they’d shared. Paul’s refusal to include John Mark caused a deep rift between him and Barnabus. We do not get a detailed account of how that shook out. What we read is that Barnabus (originally from Cyprus) and John Mark set sail to the island of Cyprus to continue their work. Paul and Silas headed to Syria and Cilicia, and beyond.

The church was nurtured by the ministries of the apostles and elders who sailed across the sea, time and again. Growth happened, and divisions occurred. Both are human, and the Holy Spirit was with them on their ventures. I wonder how Paul and Barnabus grieved the loss of their closeness. I wonder how they wrestled with the transition from being of “one mind” to taking different paths. I wonder how Paul’s ministry and Barnabus’ ministry changed and grew through that chasm.

Perhaps there is a chasm in your journey this week. God is with you in that rift. Faithful followers of Christ have been in that position. With the courage of the Holy Spirit, you will figure out the next right step, so pray and listen. Don’t rush the decision. And know that our God brings hope and resurrection. Let’s keep praying for one another and praising God together.

With God’s grace and truth

Katherine+

Connections in Your Life

The church marks today as Holy Cross Day. If you would like to understand more about this day in the tradition of the larger church, there is a summary of the historical context and scriptures appointed, too. Spend some time growing in your own understanding of the cross and what it means for your life as a Christ-follower.

Holy Cross Day
AM Psalm 66; Numbers 21:4-9; John 3:11-17
PM Psalm 118; Genesis 3:1-15; 1 Peter 3:17-22

John Burruss 9/11/26 John Burruss 9/11/26

Jesus Wept - September 11

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Job 29:1,31:24-40; Acts 15:12-21; John 11:30-44

I remember where I was twenty-five years ago more clearly than almost any other moment in my life. I was living on the middle floor of my fraternity house at 516 Northwestern Avenue in West Lafayette, Indiana. That house is gone now; there is a parking garage where it once stood.

A friend woke me that morning just after the first tower was struck. By midmorning, we were all huddled together in the basement, glued to the television.

About a block behind our house stood the Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd, the campus ministry at Purdue University. It occurred to me only last night that, although I have spent much of my life looking to the Church for answers, I did not look there for answers that day. I turned to the people around me—to my fellow human beings, to my brothers gathered in a basement. We did not know what to say or what any of it meant. We simply knew that we needed to be together.

The church that later formed me for seminary had a simple message outside its building at the corner of Walnut Grove and Perkins in Memphis that morning: “Open for prayer.” That was it.

Twenty-five years later, that response still shapes me. When we cannot make sense of the world, we can gather and turn to the Lord who met Mary in her grief. When she reaches Jesus, she says, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” Jesus does not explain himself. He sees Mary and the others weeping, and he weeps with them.

Sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is be present to one another, pray with one another, and simply be human with one another. We remember not to keep alive the fear and hatred of that day, but to honor those who died and to recommit ourselves to the peace God desires for all people. Our memories can become walls between us, or they can deepen our compassion. Prayer helps us choose what we will build from them.

The following prayer, written by the Diocese of New York for this day, gives words to that hope.

Collect for September 11

O Almighty God, who brings good out of evil and turns even the wrath of your children towards your promised peace: Hear our prayers this day as we remember those of many nations and differing faiths whose lives were cut short by the fierce flames of anger and hatred. Hasten the time when the menace of war shall be removed. Cleanse both us and those perceived to be our enemies of all hatred and distrust. Pour out the spirit of peace on all the rulers of our world that we may be brought through strife to the lasting peace of the kingdom of your Son; Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Sally Herring 9/9/26 Sally Herring 9/9/26

Perseverance - September 9

Today’s Readings - Psalm 119:49-72; Job 29:1,30:1-2,16-31; Acts 14:19-28; John 11:1-16

I’m beginning my reflection this morning with full disclosure on two fronts. One, that I’ve never been a student of Job, so why today? And second, I received a reflection from a dear friend whose selection inspired me. She featured a story by Rachel Naomi Remen about perseverance – what more can I say! I’m certain Job should be included in Webster’s definition of perseverance.

Rachel’s story is about a small girl whose grandfather gives her a small cup of dirt. Perplexed and disappointed that there were no treats inside her grandfather explained. “I promise if every day you put a little water in the cup something special will happen.” Not convinced but curious she followed his directions, but after several days when nothing happened it became harder to continue to believe his promise. However, she too had made a promise, so she continued to be faithful. After a few weeks her disappointment turned to anger, beginning to believe her trust had been misplaced. Eventually, to her astonishment there appeared two small green leaves. Each day they grew. She shared her surprise with her grandfather thinking he too would be amazed. Instead, he explained, “life is everywhere, and blessings are everywhere, hidden in the most ordinary and unlikely places. ‘And all it needs is water, Grandpa?’ Rachel asked. No, he said. All it needs is your faithfulness.”

I must admit as I read Job this morning I smiled. How often have I felt his frustration, his anger, his despair at my life’s circumstances? It can be so easy to go from a positive, grateful vision of life to tunnel vision based on circumstances that seem to plague us. Be they frustration over a relationship, chronic pain, sadness or anxiety. Feeling as though God has abandoned us is not uncommon. It began after the first sin was created and it’s been a common denominator of life ever since.

Job of course is an extreme example of life’s circumstances that have landed him in despair. Ultimately though Job never loses faith. Even the fact that he continues to appeal to God, to complain about how miserable he is, is a statement of his faith in the existence and ever faithful presence of God.

I read an article about prayer last night that pointed out something incredibly obvious. Just because we pray to God does not mean that God agrees with us or will right all wrongs. It does not mean that God will answer all our requests but instead God may have other ideas. The author writes, “Whatever prayer does it does not absolve us of responsibility for our actions . . . “ I would add it also doesn’t absolve us of doing everything we can to make whatever it is we are praying so desperately about to happen. God created us with talents, and brilliant minds, with hearts that love and that are diligent and capable of great faith. The author goes on to say that prayer can be a beautiful and powerful thing, but it is only one component of a faithful life.

Like Rachel, faithfulness is often the key to recognizing the answers God provides and for dealing with what life sends our way. Job’s faithfulness was more than I think I could ever have mustered in his situation. Perseverance walks along with faithfulness. Job’s example of both can be inspiring and humbling. We may feel as though God has turned away but nothing could be less true. My friend’s reflection ended with this quote from Bp. Mariann Budde: " To persevere in faithfulness is our greatest gift to the world. The most influential moments in our lives and in human history depend far more than we realize on our faithfulness in small things, as we rise each day, like Rachel, and put a little water in our cup."

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - As you reflect on your life, where are some “small cups” that need water? What obstacles do you face as you approach them? How can God help as you face these challenges?

John Burruss 9/3/26 John Burruss 9/3/26

Remembering Wendell Berry - September 3

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 37:1-18; PM Psalm 37:19-42; Job 16:16-22,17:1,13-16; Acts 13:1-12; John 9:1-17

A dear friend of mine gave Anne and me one of the most interesting wedding gifts we received: two books.

The first was Follow Me Down, a rather gruesome story of crime, faith, passion, and redemption by the beloved Memphis writer Shelby Foote. Foote, of course, is far better known for his monumental history of the American Civil War.

The other was Jayber Crow, Wendell Berry’s novel about a young man who leaves seminary and eventually becomes the barber in a small Kentucky town. Since I was preparing to leave for seminary myself only a few months later, I wondered whether Jonathan was offering me a little career advice.

That novel was my introduction to Berry, who would become arguably the most influential writer on my faith. His novels, poetry, and essays have profoundly shaped the way I see God at work in the world. More particularly, they have shaped my understanding of what God calls us to be: people rooted in creation, attentive to the places we inhabit, and responsible for the ways we care for the earth and for one another.

Berry was born in rural Kentucky in 1934. After landing one of the most prestigious jobs in the country at NYU, he resigned much to the dismay of the literary world and returned to his home state in the 1960s. Berry settled on a farm near Port Royal, where he spent the rest of his life. He was at once a poet, novelist, essayist, farmer, conservationist, and social critic. Across all those vocations, he returned to a common conviction: that the health of the land, the health of our communities, and the health of our souls cannot finally be separated.

Wendell Berry died this week at the age of ninety-two, and I grieve a world without his voice. His words have often challenged and reoriented my life. He once wrote that we have made the mistake of assuming that whatever is good for us must also be good for the world. Instead, he argued, we must learn to trust that what is good for the world will ultimately be good for us as well.

Berry’s poem “Original Sin” is especially beautiful. It approaches sin from a different angle than today’s reading from the Gospel of John, yet it also helps illuminate that reading.

In John 9, the disciples encounter a man who has been blind from birth. They ask Jesus whose sin caused his blindness: his own or that of his parents. Jesus rejects the premise of their question. The man’s suffering is not a punishment that can be neatly traced to someone’s wrongdoing. It will instead become an occasion for the works of God to be revealed.

That does not mean, however, that sin is unreal. As Christians, we recognize something within humanity that resists God—something ancient and deeply rooted that damages our relationships with God, with one another, and with creation. Berry gives voice to that mystery:

Original Sin

Well, anyhow, it preserves us from the pride

of thinking we invented sin ourselves

by our originality, that famous modern power.

In fact, we have it from the beginning

of the world by the errors of being born,

being young, being old, causing pain

to ourselves, to others, to the world, to God

by ignorance, by knowledge, by intention,

by accident. Something is bad the matter

here, informing us of itself, handing down

its old instruction. We know it

when we see it, don’t we? Innocence

would never recognize it. We need it

too, for without it we would not know

forgiveness, goodness, gratitude,

that fund of grace by which alone we live.

—Wendell Berry, Given: Poems (2005)

Sin is not a simple explanation for suffering, and suffering is not proof of someone’s guilt. But our blindness, our inability to see God, one another, and creation as clearly as we should, is real. The good news of John’s Gospel is that our blindness need not have the final word. Like the man beside the road, we can be encountered by Christ. Our eyes can be opened, our lives can be changed, and the works of God can be revealed in us.

And even our recognition of sin can become, as Berry suggests, a doorway into forgiveness, goodness, gratitude, and “that fund of grace by which alone we live.”

Thanks be to God.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: Where does sin invite you into a deeper relationship with God?

Sally Herring 9/1/26 Sally Herring 9/1/26

The Dream of Freedom - September 1

Today’s Readings - Psalm 26, 28; Job 12:1,13:3-17,21-27; A cts 12:1-17; J ohn 8:33-47

I’ll admit I listen to a lot of books, possibly more than I actually read, which feels a bit like cheating. I read so much for study that when it comes to reading for pleasure, I’m out of time. So, a few years ago I began listening to books. The selection is wonderful and there are even great resources from the public library that cost absolutely nothing. I know for a fact it has saved me from expressing my impatience in traffic, in not so nice a manner, more than a few times.

Right now, I’m listening to Whistler, by Ann Patchett. One of the reoccurring themes has been the different ways that retirement tends to impact people. Some look forward to the freedom that retirement brings only to find that the so-called freedom of leaving a 9 to 5 job leaves some feeling adrift and no longer sure of their purpose. Others love working and work long past the age of retirement and seem to find more freedom in their ability to continue doing what they love. The perceived freedom of retirement for some is more like the wizard behind the curtain, once the curtain is pulled back it’s not what they had imagined it would be.

Jesus begins today’s gospel by addressing a group of Jews. In the face of their denial of ever having been slaves, he reminds them of their ancestors who were once enslaved. They seem to have forgotten the verses from Deuteronomy that remind them that once they had been slaves in Egypt. A reminder that the freedom that their ancestors enjoyed and that they have inherited was a gift from God.

It’s interesting how we view freedom. The idea of freedom can be encapsulated into vacation ads or promotions for a certain type of car. Or it’s seen as financial security, something that can be procured by years of hard work or through investment strategies. Vacations that eventually end and investment strategies that unfortunately can go south leaving us in worse financial shape than before.

The type of freedom Jesus is speaking of goes right over the heads of his listeners. They’re likely thinking of the heavy-handed way the Roman’s levy taxes or restrict wages; the idea that the slavery they are shackled with isn’t military rather that it’s sin isn’t in their lexicon.

The ways we may think of freedom are no less meaningless than the freedom these Jews believe they possess. There is not one of us who is not a sinner and thus not one of us who is not enslaved to sin. No matter how hard we try we are sinners and yet, we are also children of a God who sees us not as slaves but as beloved children. In our baptism we are washed with the blood of the Lamb, made free by the Son of Man, a freedom that can never collapse when the stock prices take a nosedive or when whatever dream we have of freedom fails us.

“36So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” As someone who is as guilty as the rest - I’m currently in withdrawal from a few wonderful days away - I’m reminded as I hope you are that whatever our dream of freedom may be, be it retirement or a dream vacation, true freedom only comes from Christ. So, as you face your day, give thanks for the gifts we have, no matter how temporary in nature. Give thanks to a God who loves us, who forgives us, who sustains us and gives us the one true eternal freedom.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - What are some strategies for enjoying the temporary nature of our passing freedoms, without losing sight of their impermanence and where our true freedom lies?

John Burruss 8/27/26 John Burruss 8/27/26

“Lord, to whom can we go?” - August 25

Today’s Readings - Psalm 5, 6; Job 6:1-4,8-15,21; Acts 9:32-43; John 6:60-71

When my first three children were small one of the dreaded situations of my life was taking my three to a playground or one of those indoor play gyms. After what seemed like forever when they should have been ready to leave it was inevitable that one of them would refuse to leave. I knew that if I threatened to leave them, they’d probably jump at the chance. I think they knew it was an empty threat. In many of these cases I would leave the playground pulling one or more kicking and screaming protesting how mean I was and how unfair it all was.

When I was a social worker, I would take foster children to playgrounds and the same situation would arise, but I learned never to make idle promises – because sure enough, they’d call my bluff, then what was I supposed to do? I think the foster children knew they had nowhere else to go but they’d been left so many times in various scenarios that they didn’t care or possibly trust anyone anymore.

In today’s gospel after several of the disciples have turned their back on Jesus and left him, Jesus asks Simon Peter, “Do you want to leave too?” Simon Peter answers from his heart, and says, “Lord, to whom can we go?” His response seems to ring with a hollowed out sense that they have nowhere else to turn and they’re not sure what they have in store for them. Simon Peter knows there is nowhere else that they can go, that Jesus has more than everything they need, they have come to believe that he is the Son of God, “The Holy One of God.”

Growing up we’ve, all probably found ourselves wanting to belong, wanting someone to claim us, to say, “You are special, you are important, you matter.” I remember when I was in the second grade, I packed a little suitcase and pretended to be running away. I only got a couple of houses away before my big brother swooped me up and carried me home crying. As I recall I was hungry for the attention. Behaviors can almost always be traced back to needs.

Simon Peter knew however there was no reason to leave because he recognized that Jesus was the only source for all things necessary for life. Jesus never turns away – if anyone moves it’s always us.

We don’t need to test Jesus or to pretend to walk away in hopes he’ll call after us. Jesus has already claimed us. He has an open-door policy that is constantly ready to open up, wrapping us up in the love and the care for which we hunger. All we need do is swallow our pride and admit we have no other source of light or life.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge When was the last time you were homesick and hungered for someone to claim you, to cherish you and give you that sense of belonging that we all hunger for. What do we fabricate in our lives that can create an obstacle to Jesus’ presence? Is it pride, independence, stubbornness?

John Burruss 8/20/26 John Burruss 8/20/26

Hangry - August 20

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 131, 132, [133]; PM Psalm 134, 135; Job 1:1-22; Acts 8:26-40; John 6:16-27

“Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.”

Several people commented that my sermon last week was helpful, specifically in the context of Saint Stephen’s and why our invitation to communion is so important. If you are curious about that prayer, our practice, and we do something that is a little outside of the norm, you can listen here. And, it connects to today’s Gospel in an important way.

We have a saying in my house. It’s called “hangry” = hungry + angry. It is most often experienced in one of my children. They bypass lunch, distracted by screens or friends or something else, and eventually the attitude changes. I’m learning not to take it personally. I’ve said many times, “Oh, you’re just hangry” to which the most generous response is usually a dramatic eye roll.

The funny thing about hunger is that sometimes we don’t realize how hungry we are.

I wonder if the same thing happens in our spiritual lives. We move through our days distracted by work and schedules and screens and all the things demanding our attention. We look for something to satisfy us (fill in any number of things), and yet somehow we remain hungry.

Jesus knows something about that hunger.

“Do not work for the food that perishes,” he says, “but for the food that endures for eternal life.”

There are plenty of good things in this world that can sustain us for a while. But there is a hunger within us that none of them can ultimately satisfy. We need something we cannot provide for ourselves. Maybe that is part of why we keep coming back to the Eucharist, or our lives feel out of sorts when we have missed.

Last week I reflected on the beauty of the invitation to the table: Come, you who have much faith and you who have little. Perhaps today Jesus reminds us why the invitation matters so much.

Because we are hungry. We may just not even know it.

Faithfully,

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: What are you asking to satisfy a hunger that only God can feed?

Sally Herring 8/18/26 Sally Herring 8/18/26

I Can Do Nothing on My Own - August 18

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [120], 121, 122, 123; Judges 18:1-15; Acts 8:1-13; John 5:30-47

My mother liked to say that I was born pushing her out of the way. That I was fiercely independent and that I wouldn’t even allow her to rock me when I was upset. I’ve known for years now that I wasn’t great about asking for help even though there have been more times than I can count when I desperately needed and wanted help. I’m sure that says something about me that a therapist would have a grand time unpacking! As I’ve matured and my faith has grown, I’ve come to accept help more easily, but I still struggle with asking. Which frankly is quite egotistical.

During my 20+ years of working as a social worker I’ve seen individuals who go to great lengths to avoid what’s best for them and try every other option first. Often addicts will try everything refusing to admit that they are powerless against their disease. They will make multiple excuses rather than admit what everyone else sees – that first they need to admit that they need help and then second, get the kind of help real help that comes from a higher power.

The opening lines from today’s gospel from John say it all: “I can do nothing on my own.” Jesus admits that he needs help, and not just any help but help from his father. He describes the Jewish religious leaders who try going to the scriptures, going everywhere but to their father who is in heaven. They are only concerned with individual prestige and status over the kind of truth that only comes from God.

Why do we insist on going it alone? Why do we insist on problem solving everything without first sitting in the presence of God and sharing, honestly admitting what our needs are. God already knows what we need, but admitting our dependence on God is where we tend to fall short. It doesn’t need to be a roadblock. God is always waiting.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - How often do our daily thoughts and actions intersect with thoughts of God? What are some ways we unintentionally turn away from God, seeking admiration, approval or praise from others? What would it be like to seek approval and validation from God rather than from those who surround us?

John Burruss 8/6/26 John Burruss 8/6/26

Magic Eyes and the Transfiguration - August 6

Today’s Readings: The Transfiguration; AM Psalm 2, 24; Exodus 24:12-18; 2 Corinthians 4:1-6; PM Psalm 72; Daniel 7:9-10,13-14; John 12:27-36a

Today is the Feast of the Transfiguration. When I was in elementary school, one of the popular books were those “Magic Eye” books filled with colorful dots. If you looked at the page just right, a three-dimensional image would suddenly appear. I remember being so frustrated because everyone around me seemed to see something that I couldn't. Then, almost without warning, my eyes adjusted, and what had looked like random patterns suddenly revealed something that had been there all along.

The Feast of the Transfiguration reminds me of those books. On the mountain, Jesus doesn't just become someone different. Maybe for a brief moment, Peter, James, and John are given eyes to see who he has always been. The veil is pulled back, and the glory that has been present all along shines through in a way that they hadn’t seen before.

Several months ago, a parishioner was seeking council about an employee who had done something quite dishonest and certainly illegal. I was trying to be pastoral and wasn’t quite as generous about forgiveness as the conclusion this person arrived at. I’m glad they didn’t take my advice. And actually, they taught me something about forgiveness and how our faith can change the way we see other people, and how we see the situation we are in.

In today's Gospel, Jesus says, "Walk while you have the light." Light does more than brighten our path; it teaches us to see what was hidden in the darkness. Faith is not merely about acquiring new information. It is about allowing God to transform our vision so that we recognize the holy that has been with us all along. This helps us to see dignity or possibility where others miss the picture. Thanks be to God.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: Where might God be inviting you to look again today? What ordinary person, place, or moment might reveal God's glory if you slow down long enough to truly see?

Sally Herring 8/4/26 Sally Herring 8/4/26

God Believes in Us - August 4

Today’s Readings - Psalm 78:1-39; Judges 7:1-18; A cts 3:1-11; J ohn 1:19-28

Every so often, I’ll witness our youngest son do something that seems completely out of character. For example, after not making his bed for two years I walk in one morning and his bedroom is neat as a pin. As his parents, one or both of us has said, “Who are you and what have you done with my son?” We say it tongue in cheek of course, but it’s remarkable how someone can morph into a new version of themselves, to appear to have drastically changed. Sometimes it’s not so much that we’ve changed but that we’ve grown into who we were all along. For as long as I can remember I’ve thought I was shy – I've been told I was shy until as an adult I realized it’s not so much that I’m shy as I’m more of an introvert than extrovert. I can be as social as the next but it’s not always how I prefer spending time.

In today’s gospel reading from John we’re hearing about the very beginning of John the Baptist’s ministry. Unfortunately, after his birth, John kind of falls off the map. His parents, Zechariah and Elizabeth, were given a foretaste of who he would become but then the next time we hear about John he’s a grown man who’s been living in the wilderness, eating locust and honey, and now he reappears, seemingly out of nowhere, proclaiming the coming of the Messiah, the Lamb of God.

Jewish priests and Levites from Jerusalem seek him out to ask, “Who are you?” They’re understandably skeptical. Anyone who knew John as a child might wonder, “Who are you and what have you done with John?” It would take a lot of confidence in your beliefs to take this bold of a step.

I recently read about a woman who has written a memoir that demonstrates how one person holds intense grief alongside a deep faith. In her moments of doubt and despair she is reminded as she says her traditional Jewish morning prayers that “God has great faith in me.” Rachel Goldberg-Polin explains that she’s always liked the idea that God believes in us. I was struck by this thought and immediately knew this is what I, we, need to adopt as our mantra. That we are children of God. That God believes in us, has great faith in us and with that thought, believe that no matter how daring or risky a step in faith may feel, God believes in us, God has faith in us. With God in our corner, so much more seems possible, less risky. It can be incredibly freeing to realize this and to be able to live into what we are called to do as God’s children, as disciples of Christ.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for reflection and challenge - What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail? Or if you did, no matter the results God was with you, believing in you, Cheering you on? Who would you be? Would you have chosen a different life’s path? What can you do, beginning today that yesterday you may have been hesitant to try?

John Burruss 7/30/26 John Burruss 7/30/26

Joseph of Arimathea - July 30

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm [70], 71; PM Psalm 74; Judges 4:4-23; Acts 1:15-26; Matt. 27:55-66

There is a lot of outrage in the world right now and probably much of it for very good reasons. And sometimes it feels totally overwhelming with how to respond. We can’t fix everything, and yet we can do something, and we often are kind of stuck in a place in between trying to figure out what it means to respond to each other, to our loved ones, to people in need, and to a world hurting.

In today’s Gospel passage, I am drawn to Joseph of Arimathea. Matthew makes the important distinction that he was a disciple of Jesus, whereas Mark’s Gospel only points to him being a respected member of the council. Matthew avoids this, likely trying to claim that Joseph wasn’t responsible for Jesus’s condemnation and was a member of the Sanhedrin.

As I reflect today, I'm not so sure it's a bad thing to remember that Joseph was part of the council. Human beings are complicated, tied up in institutions, relationships, and decisions that are often bigger than ourselves. We are rarely entirely innocent or entirely guilty. Most of us live in the tension of trying to be faithful while navigating flawed families, workplaces, communities, and systems. Joseph reminds us that anyone can become an instrument of grace.

I find this very hopeful. If you are feeling paralyzed in responding to the needs of the world, maybe the simple answer is just do the next faithful thing. Joseph cannot save the world. That belongs to God alone. But he can care for one broken body. He can bear witness to love when violence seems to have won. Maybe discipleship is less about being responsible for changing everything and more about refusing to let compassion disappear.

Perhaps that is the invitation for us as well. We cannot heal every wound or solve every crisis that confronts us. The needs of the world are simply too great for each person to bear that weight. But we can honor Christ by caring for the person before us, speaking the truth we have been given to speak, and offering the love we are able to offer. We entrust the rest to God, who has always been in the business of bringing resurrection out of places that look like endings.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: Where is God inviting you to do the next faithful thing, even if you cannot fix the whole problem?

Sally Herring 7/28/26 Sally Herring 7/28/26

King of the Hill - July 28

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 61, 62; Judges 2:1-5,11-23; Rom. 16:17-27; Matt. 27:32-44

It can be one of life’s greatest temptations to use our influence, to flex our muscles, or to try to prove our worth even when we know we don’t need to. It usually happens when our back is up against a wall and we feel trapped, defensive, with no way out. It’s not pretty when it happens and I honestly can’t remember a time when I’ve witnessed someone resort to this when I’ve been impressed or when the situation wasn’t made worse.

As I try to understand why we fall into this trap I’ve come to believe that the root of behavior meant to intimidate someone by impressing them with our worth may be insecurity. When we resort to these types of tactics it’s usually because we feel threatened. I’ve seen children do this while playing especially if one is getting the best of another. Bullies quite often resort to this type of behavior, puffing themselves up to appear more powerful, more threatening, when underneath their intimidating persona is a frightened child who just needs and wants to be accepted and loved.

It can be exhausting to be “King of the Hill.” Just getting there isn’t enough. Once you’re there you need to defend your title, your right to the real estate or reputation you’ve acquired.

Those who persecuted Jesus and the men who carried out the execution were for the most part bullies, cowards hiding behind false accusations and taunts, behind the demands of others and fear of retaliation. Jesus knew he had nothing to gain by responding to their threats. What he had come to do he had accomplished in how he lived and how he was choosing to die. He regarded his devotion to God as a higher calling than any earthly title or crown. Ultimately through his death he knew he would be granting the children of God a kind of freedom that no one had ever experienced.

It may not feel like it, but we answer to that same calling. Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice so we too could die to sin, with him, in our baptism. As a result, we live with a covenant we made to God at our baptism and are bound by our baptismal vows. We live with the security of knowing that our lives don’t depend on proving our worth. Our worth in the eyes of God is all that matters.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection or Challenge - How often have you become subject to someone else’s taunts or provocations? How did you respond? What might you have done differently? How often do we consider our lives in relation to our baptismal vows me made or were made for us?

Sally Herring 7/21/26 Sally Herring 7/21/26

And They Deserted Him - July 21

Today’s Readings - Psalm 45; Jo shua 8:1-22; R om. 14:1-12; M att. 26:47-5 6

“Then all the disciples deserted him and fled.” There aren’t too many words in the New Testament that bother me more than this last verse from today’s gospel reading from Matthew. I’ve read them more times than I can remember and each time I read these lines and the narrative leading up to them I have mixed reactions. How could they have done that to their best friend, their teacher their companion, their lord? And then I consider what was at stake, how frightened they must have been, how confused and then how easy it would have been to panic and without considering their actions, run. I know because I’ve been there and done that.

We’ve all from time to time been faced with choosing between protecting ourselves, our reputation, our livelihood, and our loyalty for someone else, something else. Sometimes regretfully we’ve chosen the more selfish, safer option. Unfortunately, it can sometimes feel as though that’s the only option we have. And worse of all it can be way too easy to justify actions that we are less than proud of having committed.

Thankfully, this hasn’t happened to me very often. There are times when I’ve chosen to be safe, trying not to get involved, or not speaking our when I knew I should, but my heart has never let me off easy. Several years ago, I decided to honestly respond to a situation when I could have chosen to avoid it. I could have looked the other way and allowed it to continue. It would have been so much easier. Instead, I spoke up and I lost a friendship that I’ve missed but that was toxic and best cut loose. I know she’ll never understand that I was doing what I honestly knew was right, but I eventually came to peace with it knowing I did the right thing.

Jesus is more aware than we will ever be of how many ways we are challenged each day. We will never know how many times we’ve deserted him, the times we haven’t spoken up for those who have no voice, the times we haven’t taken just a few minutes to check on someone or to tell someone they matter. It’s a generous grace-filled love on Christ’s part that prevents us from knowing, because the weight of it all would probably be more than we could bear.

The last line in this narrative will always haunt me, but it’s the reminder I know I need on a daily basis; to try harder, to be more intentional, to be more aware, more present to the needs that we are surrounded by each and every day. It’s also the reminder I need to remember the sacrifice Jesus made for us so that we might know the freeing grace of forgiveness. The disciples like us out of fear and confusion ran for their lives, but at what cost? What is life without our relationship with Christ?

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - When you run from seeing the face of Jesus, when you turn to look the other way, who do you see? Do you see the reflection of someone you respect? Or, do you see the face of someone you wish had made better choices? What can we do to be more intentional, to remain more loyal to Jesus?

John Burruss 7/16/26 John Burruss 7/16/26

The Grace of Unresolved Questions - July 16

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 37:1-18; PM Psalm 37:19-42; Joshua 3:14-4:7; Rom. 12:1-8; Matt. 26:1-16

One of the more interesting conversations this summer was a discussion with clergy classmates about sermons by St. Basil the Great on the social vision of the church. I mentioned one of his sermons earlier in a reflection, but that was before our class discussion. Basil was an early bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia (modern-day Turkey) who lived in the middle of the 4th century.

It was a theology class, but we spent a few days on social vision, particularly wealth. You can imagine how that landed with a room of Episcopal clergy, a tradition that has historically been one of the most affluent, and many of us with livelihoods tied to the generosity of those who came before us and built the endowments that have helped our churches grow and endure in ways that would otherwise have been difficult.

In a sermon on Matthew 19:16-22, Basil proclaims,

"Why then are you sad? Why do you mourn in your soul, hearing 'Sell your possessions'? Even if your belongings could follow you to the future life, they would not be particularly desirable there, since they would be overshadowed by truly precious things. If on the other hand, they must remain here, why not sell them now and obtain profit? You are not disappointed when you must spend gold in order to purchase a horse. But when you have the opportunity to exchange corruptible things for the Kingdom of Heaven, you shed tears, spurning the one who asked of you and refusing to give anything, while contriving a million excuses for your own expenditures?"

Basil is responding to the rich man who is told to sell everything and walks away in tears. Later in the sermon, Basil offers a metaphor I find helpful:

"Great rivers begin from tiny streams, but eventually acquire irresistible magnitude by means of small additions, so that they violently sweep away whatever lies in their paths: thus it is with those who advance to positions of great power."

He's talking about how wealth and power have the capacity to corrupt, which is why an active spiritual discipline and thoughtful reflection on what shapes us is so important. He continues later in the sermon:

"Because of wealth, kinsfolk disregard the bond of nature, and siblings contemplate murder against sibling. Because of wealth the desert teems with murderers, the sea with pirates, and the cities with extortionists. Who is the father of lies? Who is the author of forgery? Who gave birth to perjury? Is it not wealth? Is it not the pursuit of wealth? What ails you people!"

(I added the exclamation point, but I imagine his sermon had crescendoed by this point.)

Closer to the end:

"Yet you say, 'I will enjoy all these things during my life, but after my death I will leave my goods to the poor, making them beneficiaries of my will and granting them all my possessions.' When you are no longer among your fellow human beings, then you will become a philanthropist!"

(I didn't add that exclamation point.)

I imagine you can picture a room of Episcopal clergy squirming in our seats — and many of us know our institutions are better off because of exactly this kind of generosity. Last year, we funded and built a house for someone because of an estate bequest, and I give tremendous thanks for the generosity of that precious soul!

I'm guessing Basil wasn't holding today's Gospel reading, from later in Matthew, where the woman pours a jar of costly ointment on Jesus and Judas criticizes her for not selling it and giving the profit to the poor, in the limelight either. Not everything is easily resolved. Today's reading suggests that sometimes we have really nice things.

I can't quite remember who said it, but I once heard that the preacher's challenge is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. These tensions in Kingdom living aren't easily resolved, and today I'm grateful for a Gospel that gives us all a little grace, and reminds us to share it too. And if this reflection leaves you with more questions than answers about how you're called to live, maybe that's a good thing.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: Where in my life has comfort made me less attentive to the needs of others?

Sally Herring 7/14/26 Sally Herring 7/14/26

Look Busy, Jesus is Coming - July 14

Today’s Readings - Psalm 26, 28; Joshua 2:15-24; R om. 11:13-24; M att. 25:14-30

Years ago, there was a popular bumper sticker that read, “Look busy, Jesus is coming..The implied meaning was that we as Jesus’ followers are supposed to have been productive, busy doing the work Christ left for us to do while he was gone. The popular message however is, “look busy” not “get busy.” Implying that if you haven’t been productive then at least look as though you have. As if Jesus wouldn’t know the difference.

Occasionally when I was little my mother would leave my big brother and I at home by ourselves. She would usually leave us a list of chores to do, like clean up our rooms, or vacuum. She’d tell us that if we got these things done then we finished we could watch tv or go over to a friend’s house.

Of course, she wouldn’t be out of the driveway good before we’d try to figure out how long we had until she returned and then we’d wait until the very last minute and scurry around getting as much done as we could, so that it at least “looked” as though we’d been busy. The problem was that if she looked very closely, she could tell we hadn’t spent much time on the chores she’d given us to do. Rather than hanging neatly in my closet my clothes would be shoved under my bed. I came to realize that she didn’t care as much about the chores getting finished as whether or not she could trust us. If she couldn’t trust us with small insignificant things then how would she ever be able to trust us with larger more important things.

In today’s gospel, Jesus is trying to explain to the disciples, to us, that there are “chores” that will need to be done once he’s gone, and that it will matter how seriously we take these tasks; that we will have resources, gifts to use and that it’s up to us to use those gifts wisely. Of course, my mother cared that instead of hanging neatly in my closet my clothes were going to need to be ironed – again. But what I didn’t understand was that she cared more about trying to teach me how to be responsible, accountable for my actions. I not only was attempting to deceive my mother, but I was hurting myself. I was learning how to be lazy, to be one of those people who try to skirt around responsibility, just doing the bare minimum.

In addition to those talents and gifts we consider as resources, we also have faith, also a gift from God. We can choose to exercise our faith, to share so that as we share it, it multiplies each time. If we hide our faith or deny it when life gets hard or uncomfortable we cut ourselves off at the knees, denying ourselves the one thing that can heal the wounds, make hope possible, straighten crooked paths. It matters how we live out our role as disciples, as children of God. Take the time to be earnest in all things, those seemingly insignificant “chores” and the ones that can make all the difference. In the end what we accomplish during this short life, the relationships we forge, the love we share is all that matters.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - If you were going to write a slogan for a bumper sticker about your life as a disciple of Christ, what would it say? How has the way you’ve lived your life been accountable to Christ’s wishes for us? What could we all do to be a better disciple of Christ?