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

Katherine Harper 10/12/26 Katherine Harper 10/12/26

Abiding Peace – October 12

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; PM Psalm 4, 7, Micah 7:1-7; Acts 26:1-23; Luke 8:26-39

In Luke 8, Jesus is in a boat with his disciples crossing the Sea of Galilee. The winds kick up and the disciples cry out in terror, waking him up, “Master, master – we are perishing!” Jesus responds, “Where is your faith?” and commands the winds to obey. There is immediate calm.

And then, we get to the gospel appointed for today, where Jesus casts out the demons – called “Legion” – from the wild Gerasene man. Luke writes that “for a long time he had worn no clothes, and he did not live in a house but in the tombs.” The unclean spirit within him rendered him as tempestuous as the stormy waters of the sea, for he needed to be vigilantly watched and often broke out of the chains and shackles, only to flee into the surrounding deserts. This unpredictable mess of a man approaches Jesus and falls before him in humility. Jesus commands the demon – and then multiple demons – to leave the afflicted, nearly naked man. Rather than being vanquished to the abyss, “Legion” are permitted by Jesus to inhabit a herd of neighboring hogs, which readily plummets down into the lake.

The once-wild reprobate is exorcised. Rather than a shell of man quaking from trauma, the people observe him sitting docile, clothed, and in his right mind at the feet of Jesus. He is wholly healed with a new lease on life. Rather than welcome the man as an additional traveling disciple, Jesus directs him to testify to the Good News of restoration and healing: “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”

Notice the parallel movement from chaos to calm in the stormy sea and the afflicted Gerasene. Jesus rebukes the disruptions, restoring both the safety of the disciples in the boat and the life of the possessed man upon the land (while sending the demons to the abyss, anyway!).

This story reminds me that states of “calm” and “healed” do not mean the next steps are easy. The Gerasene man was saved from the affliction of demons, yet he had the challenge of showing his community – people he scared and scarred – that he was truly transformed by God’s grace. The holy work of repair is hard and slow-going. If you are praying for clarity and working toward restoration, invite someone to support and encourage you. Lean upon God for hope and look for helpers to be partners in the process. May God’s abiding peace be upon you this day.

With God’s help,

Katherine+

Connections in Your Life

Reflect on the nuances between healing and repair in your own life.

Journal about a time or issue that comes to mind. Is the healing complete? Is the repair complete? How can reflecting on this event shape the way you understand God’s grace? Consider this prayer from the Book of Common Prayer (p. 461):

For Trust in God

O God, the source of all health: So fill my heart with faith in your love, that with calm expectancy I may make room for your power to possess me, and gracefully accept your healing; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

John Burruss 10/9/26 John Burruss 10/9/26

Too many things - October 9

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 140, 142; PM Psalm 141, 143:1-11(12); Micah 3:9-4:5; Acts 24:24-25:12; Luke 8:1-15

With one teenager and another only a few months away from becoming one, Anne and I sometimes find ourselves crossing our fingers and holding our breath, waiting for certain realities to sink in. Both of us made decisions at our children’s ages that we hope our kids will not make this soon. At the same time, we know that making mistakes is part of growing up and learning to navigate adulthood.

This week, we were talking about how we keep them too busy to get into much trouble, which we think we are doing. Maybe there is some wisdom in that. But in today’s scripture, I also hear a warning.

In Jesus’ parable, some of the seed falls among thorns. The seed begins to grow, but the thorns grow alongside it and eventually choke it. Jesus says that the thorns represent the cares, riches, and pleasures of life. I once heard a priest from East Tennessee suggest that the things choking the seed may not always be bad things. They may be good things, responsibilities, activities, accomplishments, and opportunities, that gradually fill all the available space.

That raises an uncomfortable question for me as a parent and as a person of faith. Can a life become so full of good things that there is no room for what matters most?

What would it mean to give ourselves and our children enough space not only to grow, but also to make mistakes, experience boredom, learn to pray, sit with God in uncertainty, and nurture an inner life? These things require time that does not appear productive. They require moments that have not already been assigned a purpose.

Go anywhere people are waiting or sitting in public and notice how quickly we reach for our phones. We hardly know how to be idle anymore. How many of us (this week) have even honked at someone who failed to notice that the light had turned green because they were looking at a screen? We are surrounded by devices and activities designed to fill every empty moment.

Perhaps the problem is not that the seed has failed to take root. Perhaps too many other things are competing for the same soil. Even good things can become thorns when they leave us without the time or attention to recognize the Spirit of God growing within us.

John+

Reflection question: What is filling the soil of your life right now, and what might you need to set aside to give God’s Spirit more room to grow?

Sally Herring 10/7/26 Sally Herring 10/7/26

Who Do You Expect to See? - October 7

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 119:145-176;Micah 2:1-13; Acts 23:23-35; Luke 7:18-35

It can be confusing for children to know what’s right and what’s wrong. For that matter it can be confusing for adults as well. Too often what we’re taught isn’t what we see. Often adults can’t seem to keep their behaviors in line with how they know they’re supposed to behave, how they’ve told their children to behave. I can talk until I’m blue in the face about not being judgmental or treating others with kindness or trusting God and having faith in God’s presence, but If I don’t live those values my words mean nothing. My actions, however, can speak volumes. When life gets challenging, I’m not immune from having an occasional crisis in faith, letting my mouth or my attitude run amuck. But then I’m reminded of what I preach, who I want to be, who I believe God created me to be and I hit reset, ask for forgiveness and try again.

When my children were young it was a struggle to ensure they were influenced in positive healthy ways. It’s no different if not worse today. There are so many influences surrounding our children from their friends, the music they listen to and the social media they’re bombarded by. I remember when my oldest daughter was five or six years old, she used a curse word and my parents looked at me very accusingly and asked, “I wonder where she heard that?” Well to be honest she could have heard it from me, but she also could have heard it from a dozen other sources. Whether we realize it or not we are all influenced more by someone’s actions than their admonishments.

When Jesus is asked by John’s disciples, “Are you the one who is to come?” rather than answer with a simple “yes,” he tells them to go back and tell John what they have seen and heard. Someone who tells you they’re your friend yet only thinks of themselves or fails to be present when you need help is no friend. Demonstrating love speaks much more loudly of true feelings, than empty words. Jesus knew his actions were the proof they needed.

When Jesus asks the crowds about their reaction to John: “What did you expect when you went into the wilderness, what did you expect to see,” we’re reminded of how unrealistic expectations can be. Did they expect to see someone John was never going to be? Someone in fine clothing or who he truly was, a prophet, a man of God?

Jesus wants us to realize that the work of God is often not what we expect, not glamorous or appealing. It can be hard and we can disappoint not only others but ourselves. Our expectations are often influenced by our culture when it would serve us better to focus more on what Jesus might expect. When I’m disappointed in myself, I’m reminded of the grace and forgiveness God offers and wonder “Who do I expect to be?” Could I be expecting to see someone else when I look in the mirror? Someone who is infallible, unshakeable? Someone I could never be? What a disappointment that would be. Thanks be to God that’s not the expectation.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - Do you occasionally find yourself disappointed in yourself? Ask yourself, who’s standards are you abiding by – culture’s or God’s. How can we make peace with ourselves when we’re disappointed in ourselves or others? Possibly we need to ask that same question – who’s standards are we trying to live by?

Katherine Harper 10/5/26 Katherine Harper 10/5/26

The Courage of Tyndale

The Courage of Tyndale – October 5, 2026

Today’s Readings: Proverbs 8:10-17; Psalm 15; James 1:19-27; John 12:44-50

How many Bibles do you have in your house? Maybe there is a family Holy Bible that has been passed down from generations, with loved one’s birthdates inscribed on the inside front cover, along with other important days to commit to memory. When I was a child, my mom passed down her King James Version Bible encased in white leather with a brass-colored metal zipper, protecting the wafer-thin pages tipped in gold.

With the advent of internet technologies and readily available search engines, in 2026 we can type a phrase – like “I have called you by name…” – and a list of possible citations from the Bible (and a myriad of other web sources) is generated in a fraction of a second.

Think about what it would be like to have no access to a Bible. What if the holy scriptures were solely read aloud by a priest, and the readings were not in your native tongue? Imagine if the only time you heard the scriptures explained was when referenced in a sermon. What would it be like if you could not read the psalms or the day’s epistle yourself?

Sitting in this wondering for a little while, the power of the Holy Bible is magnified for me. I think about how I would yearn to touch the pages…slowing down to pour, ponder, and pray over the words with my own eyes. There are many who paved the way for you and me to have access to God’s Holy Word.

In the Episcopal Church’s calendar of observances, William Tyndale is remembered on this day. Tyndale (1494-1536) was an Englishman, a priest (ordained in 1521), and a biblical scholar, known for translating much of the Hebrew and Greek texts of the Bible into English. It was a controversial, subversive thing to do – and he played a big role in the Protestant Reformation by doing this. Tyndale’s texts were the first English works reproduced on the printing press. The New Testament was finalized in 1526 and distributed widely in England; 18,000 were printed and today only 2 remain. The first complete Bible in English was printed by Miles Coverdale in 1535; he filled in some holes that Tyndale had not completed.

Risky business, these Bibles were seen as a direct challenge to the authority of the Roman Catholic church – and for a while King Henry VIII, too. Tyndale went into hiding across Europe to finish his translations and was eventually found. He was executed on October 6, 1536, for his heretical work of making the Word of God accessible to the people. William Tyndale’s dying words were “Lord, open the King of England's eyes“…and a short time later, this did happen. King Henry VIII licensed the 1537 edition of the Bible that largely reflected Tyndale’s work, though it is called the Coverdale Bible.

I tell you this historical tale today so that you and I slow down to appreciate the gift we receive when studying the Word with our own eyes and minds and hearts. Savor this gift. May God open you to hear and know the Good News this day. And, pass it on!

With God’s help,

Katherine+

Connections in Your Life

Today, hold a physical Bible and read some scripture dear to you – or scripture appointed for today. Give thanks to God that you can read these words with your eyes, hold the book in your hands, and understand the words in your native tongue. May the Holy Spirit inspire you through study this day.

John Burruss 10/2/26 John Burruss 10/2/26

Sermon on the Plain - October 2

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 102; PM Psalm 107:1-32; Hosea 10:1-15; Acts 21:37-22:16; Luke 6:12-26

Today’s Gospel reading is the first part of what people often call the "Sermon on the Plain." At least from where I sit, people seem to know the Sermon on the Mount, from Matthew’s Gospel, much better. Luke’s version contains some similar themes, but it can be much harder to sit with:

“Blessed are you who are poor. Blessed are you who are hungry now. Blessed are you who weep now. Blessed are you when people hate you.”

And then come the warnings: “Woe to you who are rich. Woe to you who are full now. Woe to you who are laughing now. Woe to you when all speak well of you.”

Those are hard words to hear.

On more than a few occasions, I have walked down a hospital corridor and heard screams and cries coming from one of the rooms. It happened to me a few weeks ago and it was hard to hear. When I spent a summer as a pastoral care resident at Mary Washington Hospital in Fredericksburg, Virginia, those were often the rooms where they sent us chaplains.

Healthcare workers and social workers know how painful life can really be. They see the moments when the stories we tell ourselves about control, security, and self-sufficiency fall apart. If you have been to an emergency room waiting room recently, you know exactly what I am talking about.

I’m hearing that cry from a few weeks ago, when I read Jesus’s words.

Jesus is not saying that poverty, hunger, grief, or rejection are good things. He is not asking people to pretend that suffering is a blessing. He is speaking directly to people who are suffering and telling them that their present circumstances do not have the final word. God sees them. God has not abandoned them. God is coming to transform this world, or maybe as I suggested last week, return the world to its intended state.

Maybe we are all more familiar with the “Sermon on the Mount” than on the Plain, because of how this reading lands. It’s tough, for sure. I’d like to suggest that the “woes” are not there simply to make comfortable people feel guilty. They are a warning about how easily comfort can become a wall. When we are full, secure, admired, and entertained, we can easily cut ourselves off from the pain of the world. For some, it might be easy to avoid the waiting room, or places where suffering is more visible. At least that is true for me in my life.

Perhaps that is one of the reasons Jesus’ words are so difficult. They ask us where we have become comfortable with a world that leaves other people hungry, grieving, excluded, or alone.

To believe in Jesus Christ is to believe that God is making all things whole, that God is intending the world to be different, and even doing something about that! And we should remember it is Jesus who invites us to join in alongside and become part of that transformation by seeing him in the one in need, to listen to the cries, to enter the room, to sit beside the bed, and to trust that love can be present even where easy answers are not.

Faithfully,

John+

Sally Herring 9/30/26 Sally Herring 9/30/26

Making Space for the New - September 30

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; Hosea 4:11-19; Acts 21:15-26; Luke 5:27-39

One of my first jobs was recruiting and managing volunteers for a non-profit in downtown Jackson, Ms. The agency managed several different ministries: a men’s shelter, a home for abused women, a soup kitchen, a clothing closet and a laundry. They eventually expanded to include a health clinic for minor ailments and injuries. One of my first presentations to recruit volunteers was to a wealthy neighboring church. It was very prominent with an impressive sanctuary and campus that was the largest in the downtown area.

I presented all my best-selling points, explaining our multiple opportunities for volunteers. They weren’t buying any of it. None of it appealed to them. In not so many words they told me that the people we ministered to had chosen to be where they were and they’d rather not spend their time or resources helping them. They chose the people they helped through an interview process, selecting only people they felt deserving. I remember feeling shocked and foolish. It didn’t take long for me to become indignant and angry. I thought some awful things about them and eventually realized I was as judgmental as they were.

Admitting personal fault and the need for help is often the key to real spiritual health, the key to healing that can only come from Christ. However, if you can’t admit or see that you’re “broken’ you can never be open to change, to correcting what is broken, to healing. Not being able to see our own biases or being open to examine our self-awareness can be one of the greatest roadblocks to spiritual healing and growth.

In Luke’s gospel for today, Jesus proclaims to the pharisees and scribes that he came to call not the righteous but the sinners, to repentance. As I was thinking about this, I wondered what Jesus meant when he referred to the Pharisees as righteous. Webster’s definition of righteous doesn’t seem to fit those to whom Jesus is referring. The Pharisees seemed to be more concerned with keeping the letter of the Jewish laws rather than the inner transformation of the heart that comes with true righteousness. They trusted that as children of Abraham they had earned their acceptability to God and so their focus was more on public appearance rather than what Micah had proclaimed: to act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly.

Choosing to follow Jesus as Levi did, requires his leaving behind everything, and changing the direction of his life. It means being open to a new way of living that Jesus is offering; one that offers grace and acceptance rather than strict observance of rigid laws and compliance of religious traditions. By leaving everything behind it may also mean leaving biases or prejudices behind as well.

Perhaps the reason my ideas were rejected at that presentation so long ago was because I was trying to squeeze a fresh new way of looking at our fellow human beings into an old, hard and fast system, to increase awareness on the needs that exist. The Pharisees were threatened by the change they feared Jesus was bringing, a new spiritual reality that was unfamiliar and as unwelcome as new wine in an old wineskin. It meant letting go of some of the control the old system provided. We all find ourselves in that unfamiliar place from time to time and God willing we will be open to the opportunities for grace, mercy and love that come our way.

Faithfully,

Salyy+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - When have you tried to “patch” your life with new “cloth,” forcing new ways into a life that isn’t ready or willing to embrace the change? How did you facilitate the change, making way for the new?

Katherine Harper 9/28/26 Katherine Harper 9/28/26

Light of a clear blue morning

Dawn was breaking as I headed out to pray with a parishioner before surgery today. Puffs of clouds streamed across the expanse above my house. It took my breath away as I marveled in the blend of far-off wonder and the closeness of God’s peace. A song came to mind: Dolly Parton’s “Light of a Clear Blue Morning”, and I listened to that tune as I drove across town. Concluding my visit, I walked out of the hospital waiting room, passing a woman weeping. Her face was buried in her hands, and she was surrounded by other women, kneeling around her. I turned around and asked if I could offer a prayer. The woman’s name is Tracy and she is in a time of deep fear. Her husband Max is very ill and in surgery. We prayed together for God’s healing grace to be upon Max and his medical team, and for the light of Christ to bring comfort and reassurance in this season of uncertainty.

As I reflect on that encounter, “Light of a Clear Blue Morning” returns to me. In this 1977 recording, Dolly begins with a slower tempo and the simple accompaniment of a piano, singing “It’s been a long dark night / And I’ve been a-waitin’ for the morning”. Her lilting voice lifts to the heavens. With a mournful tone, she sings, “Everything’s gonna work out just fine”. Reaching the refrain, the tune picks up and the beat of drums is added as she sings, “‘Cause I can see the light of a clear blue morning / I can see the light of a brand new day…” The song builds in joy. Dolly honors the hard times that have been and knows who she is made to be (“I’ve been like a captured eagle / You know an eagle’s born to fly”). All the while, the hardship has not changed her nature. Other voices are added, backing up Dolly and singing in harmony with her. Her vocals soar and I can hear her smiling as she sings. She believes that the clear blue morning is coming as the light peeks out, giving her reassurance.

Have you ever felt that? You’ve weathered a hard time and you keep reminding yourself that things will fall into place. The “how” is not clear and yet you know things will settle in some way. Maybe you are in that hard place right now. I pray that the light of this clear blue morning will fall upon you, and upon Tracy and Max. I believe that inspiring light is from Christ. I believe that love comes from God. And I believe that healing grace of the Holy Spirit comforts us and reassures us when we are not sure how we will make it through the storm surrounding us.

I pray that God’s abiding and overarching love will ground you this day. Uncertain? Spend time reflecting on today’s psalm (89) that notes the grandeur of our Lord. Listen to a song that builds your soul. Look up into the sky and behold the light of a clear blue morning.

With God’s help,

Katherine+

Connections in Your Life

Reflect on Psalm 89’s praise to God – in the ways God is seen as dependable and strong. How can these words enrich your own prayer life this week? Is there anything that feels challenging to you? Journal about what you notice. And keep praying!

John Burruss 9/25/26 John Burruss 9/25/26

Restoring the World - September 25

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 88; PM Psalm 91, 92; Esther 8:1-8,15-17 or Judith 13:1-20; Acts 19:21-41; Luke 4:31-37

I sometimes struggle with the stories about demons and evil spirits in the New Testament. Today’s passage from Luke is one of those stories: Jesus commands the unclean spirits to come out of a man.

This week, however, I came across an idea that gave me a new way of understanding passages like this one. In Practicing the Way, the book I referenced in last week’s reflection, John Mark Comer quotes the German theologian Jürgen Moltmann. Moltmann argues that miracles are not intrusions into the natural order but acts that heal and restore it:

When Jesus expels demons and heals the sick, he is driving out of creation the powers of destruction, and is healing and restoring created beings who are hurt and sick. The lordship of God to which the healings witness restores creation to health. Jesus’ healings are not supernatural miracles in a natural world. They are the only truly “natural” thing in a world that is unnatural, demonized and wounded.

Comer’s point is that we are so accustomed to death, injustice, and chaos that we begin to accept brokenness as a natural part of the world. Moltmann invites us to see things differently: it is the brokenness that is the intrusion into God’s good creation.

Perhaps this gives us another way to understand these difficult stories. We may not always know what to make of the language of demons and unclean spirits, but we can recognize the work of Jesus. He confronts whatever wounds and diminishes life. Jesus is not disrupting a world that is otherwise functioning as it should; he is restoring a wounded world to wholeness.

Maybe the invitation in today’s passage is to stop accepting brokenness as inevitable. The cruelty, fear, injustice, and suffering around us are not the way things are meant to be. Every act of healing, liberation, mercy, and reconciliation offers us a glimpse of the world being made right which is the world as God intends it to be.

Faithfully,

John+

Reflection question: Where have you become accustomed to brokenness, and how might Jesus be inviting you to participate in his work of healing and restoration?

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?