Repentance - May 20

Today’s Reading: Matt. 8:28-34

I’ve been reading The Barn: The Secret History of a Murder in Mississippi by Wright Thompson. It’s a fascinating and painful history of the Mississippi Delta, the cotton industry, and the forces that shaped the culture of the American South. I grew up in Memphis, a city deeply connected to the cotton trade, so the story feels personal as well.

At the center of the book is the lynching of Emmett Till, but Thompson widens the lens far beyond a single event. He explores how economics, race, power, violence, and memory all became intertwined over generations. The book exposes the ways systems and stories can shape human behavior, almost creating a sort of destiny, sometimes in deeply destructive ways.

I believe it is important to remember our history honestly, both the beauty and the brokenness, instead of hiding the painful parts to make ourselves more comfortable. Scripture does this too. One of the very first stories in the Bible is a brother killing another brother. The Bible rarely sanitizes humanity. Instead, it tells the truth about us and our capacity to do both good and bad.  That honesty matters because healing cannot begin until what is hidden is brought into the light.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus encounters a man overwhelmed by forces he cannot control. The man is isolated, tormented, and cut off from community. However we understand the demons in this story, the deeper truth is clear: Christ confronts whatever distorts the image of God in a human life.  This is why we call the Gospel transformational.

There are things within us and around us that wound, divide, and diminish human dignity: fear, resentment, shame, addiction, hatred, violence, pride, and what the Barn so beautifully names, greed. Some are deeply personal, and some are woven into families, communities, and histories much larger than ourselves. Yet Jesus moves toward the suffering man, to call out what corrupts and destroys his inner self to make him whole.  Restoration begins when truth is faced honestly in the presence of God.

Repentance is not about humiliation. It is about freedom. It is the courageous act of trusting that God can heal what we are unable to heal ourselves. The love of Christ allows us to name what is broken so that the image of God within us might shine more clearly again.

John+

Reflection Question:
What truth about yourself, your relationships, or even your community might God be inviting you to face honestly so that healing and restoration can begin?

What Will You Choose? May 18

Today’s Readings -  Psalm 89:1-18;  Joshua 1:1-9; Eph. 3:1-13; Matt. 8:5-17

In today’s gospel reading from Matthew, we hear two examples of Jesus healing those in need. There are many examples in the bible of Jesus’ healing acts, of his being present. However, we don’t know about the times when he needed to refuse to heal people, there must have been occasions when this occurred. There had to be times when he was too pressed for time, too tired or when there were so many people, he simply couldn’t get to them all. 

As someone who has been in two serving vocations, social work and the priesthood, both in which I am called on to help, to be present, to listen, to serve, all on a daily basis, I know there are days when I feel as though I can’t emotionally or physically handle one more need, one more request. That may sound weak or selfish, but it’s true. I’ve also tried to realize that when I get overstretched or try to be too much for too many, I pay the price and those who I work and live with do as well. To be honest, anyone comes within my orbit is apt to pay the price!

Jesus had to feel this way at times. He was after all human just like us, and of course there was that divine side of him too. So, he did have that going for him, but he was still susceptible to his human needs and weaknesses. Need for time alone, for fulfilling relationships, for being loved as well as loving others, all of which we share with him.

In a sermon Bp. Mariann Budde delivered in 2020, entitled, “Time to be of a New Mind: Healers,” she writes, our first responsibility must be to ourselves, “for the one life with which we have been uniquely entrusted.” No one else can live our lives for us, . . .we can and must choose our response to life.” She goes on to say that with each new day we are faced with the choice of how we will show up for one another, how will we follow Christ, how will we be true to the vows we made at our baptism, how will we care for those in need, for ourselves, for those we love.

Discerning how and where God is calling us, what God is calling us to do is easier said than done. However, if we’re patient, the Holy Spirit will speak, will guide us in and through the maze of life’s choices, pitfalls, and victories. Be patient and remember Jesus’ words to the disciples, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - What are some choices you have faced? Did you feel good about your decisions? If you had the chance to go back and do it again, would you make the same choice or would you do something different?

When going on a bear hunt, you’re going to need some grace

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 85, 86; PM Psalm 91, 92; 1 Sam. 2:1-10; Eph. 2:1-10; Matt. 7:22-27

Do you ever have a “heavy” day? I’m not thinking of the times when your pants are too tight, rather those days when life feels hard. And you are dragging, and maybe your words and presence drag others down, too. I’ve been there myself and I’ve been around others in that space.

As I think about how we manage those days that are difficult, the children’s book "We're Going on a Bear Hunt" comes to mind. When facing a big obstacle, we can’t just climb over the heavy day, and we can’t dig under it…we simply get to go through it to get to the other side. Avoiding the hard parts of life or faith does not bring resolution or growth. Going through the heavy days and hard conversations is what brings us deeper connection…and we do not go through these spaces of muck and challenge alone. God is here, knowing us, creating us, and continuing to weave us together in a community, and there are people who love us and pray for us.

In the apostle Paul’s letter to the church in Ephesus, he writes, “But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ…” These words inspire me this morning. Our Lord, overflowing in care and love, does not leave us in these heavy and hard times, even when we feel beyond hope because of our own choices or the circumstances around us. God extends life and hope to us in Christ…we are rescued from the heaviness. Paul says, “by grace you have been saved”. My friends, we are saved by Jesus.

I want to pause for a moment with the word “saved”. Those of us raised in the Episcopal church may not always use the word “saved”, unless the conversation slips to money put aside for vacation, children, or retirement. I fall into this category. Do you often talk about Paul’s claim that by God’s grace you and I are saved?

I wonder - what would heavy days be like if we were reminded that we are grounded in the assurance of our faith in God? Ponder that image of seeing your feet upon the strong foundation that you are saved, rescued, protected, and revived by God’s grace. I can imagine that if I allowed myself to pause from the mire of grouching, this message of rootedness could help me get through a few more steps of the heavy day.

Our reading from Ephesians 2 has a bit more that we need to carry with us: this grace is not because we have earned it. It is not our own doing. It is the gift of God and not the result of works. We cannot earn more of it and we cannot lose it, either. It is a gift from God. And what do we do with this grace? This grace is a gift to pick us up from the floor when all is lost and we are completely aware of our brokenness. It is the gift that lifts our eyes up to the heavens for praise, for guidance, for hopefulness. It is the gift that nourishes us so that we may show generosity and care for others. It is a gift for building the goodness of God’s creation.

Paul reminds us that we are what God has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which is the way of life that shows our faithfulness. We are shaped to do those good works. And it is God’s grace which forms our hearts and minds and bonds of community so that we live into those good works that shape the lives of others. For just as one person’s heaviness is palpable and contagious in a room of others, so is God’s goodness.

My friends, we cannot avoid the heavy days. We must go through them, and know that  even when we feel low and flummoxed with everyone, God continues to make us alive together in Christ. God keeps nourishing the bonds of connection and wholeness.

Blessings in Eastertide,
Katherine+

Connections in Your Life

Spend a bit of time re-reading Ephesians 2 this weekend. How is Jesus calling you to grow in this scripture? Ponder what “being saved” means to you in this phase of your life. Journal about this. Pray about it. Talk with a trusted friend or member of clergy.

Holy Silence - May 13

Today’s Readings: Matthew: 22:41-46

I’m digging for something in this reading from Matthew.  Today’s Gospel is just a few short verses.  What fascinates me most is the ending. “No one was able to give him an answer, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions.” The religious leaders are left in silence.  And the reading makes it feel like the silence isn’t going to be broken anytime soon. 

And maybe that silence is not failure, but a gift.

I’m in the chapter of my life where my children are especially intuitive and creative.  Both of my children (ages 12 and 14) have created pretty nuanced arguments about why their parents should let them have social media. Anne and I feel strongly about waiting as long as we can, hopefully holding out until 16.  When I argue back, the conversations usually snowball into some resentment from my children and frustration on my part.  Sometimes answers don’t actually make the situation better. 

If you are reading this reflection, my guess is you are someone attuned to the rhythm of the liturgical calendar, to the way scripture shapes our days and slowly forms our hearts in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We are now nearing the end of the Easter season, and tomorrow the Church celebrates the Feast of the Ascension, when Christ ascends into heaven forty days after Easter.

There is something fitting about reading this Gospel on the eve of the Ascension. Jesus leaves his listeners speechless. Tomorrow, he will leave his disciples staring into the clouds. In both moments, people encounter a reality larger than their understanding.  And they are left without answers, on their own to figure it out, and to write the next chapter. 

Maybe there is something holy in the silence, in the wondering, in trying to make sense of it all. Personally, I am beginning to suspect that this is one of the ways faith is formed. Not by having every answer neatly resolved, but by learning to remain open in the presence of mystery.

The disciples will soon discover that the Ascension is not abandonment. Christ’s absence will become another kind of presence. But first comes the waiting, the silence, the looking upward without certainty about what comes next.

Maybe that is true for us too. Some seasons of life cannot be argued through or solved with the right words. Sometimes we are simply invited to trust that God is still at work, even in the silence, even in the unanswered questions, even in the space where we are learning what it means to walk by faith.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: When have you discovered that silence, listening, or presence was more healing than having the right answer?

See it, Say it, Sorted - May 11

Today’s Readings - Psalm 80; Lev. 25:35-55; Col. 1:9-14; Matt. 13:1-16

For a preacher, this morning’s gospel is one that is more of a joy than a conundrum. It’s incredibly rich with visual imagery, lending itself to many avenues a preacher can take. I’ve always loved the garden imagery. Weeds are something I have an up-close and personal relationship with, as anyone who has seen my yard can attest.

However, as I re-read this passage, I was struck by something else - the frequency of the word, “listen.” Listen or words that pertain to listening appear six times in just 16 verses. It’s as if God is saying, “Pay attention, this is important”

While I was in seminary I did a chaplaincy at Methodist Hospital in Indianapolis. When we met with patients we weren’t allowed to take notes, however, we were expected to present a verbatim account of the conversation later in our group meetings, so careful listening was crucial.

Listening and being present are two priceless gifts we can give one another. Being wholly tuned into whomever we’re spending time with matters. It not only does a disservice to our companion, but it undermines our potential to be who we need to be to one another, when we’re only partially present. Listening doesn’t always pertain to the spoken word. Sometimes we need to listen with more than our ears, perhaps with our instincts, with our heart. Many times, I’ve noticed that when someone is struggling to say something it’s not what they say as much as what they don’t say. How their body conveys their inner need for expression. Sometimes it’s with their eyes, other times with their gestures. I would often have patients during my chaplaincy who were intubated, making it impossible for them to talk. I can promise you, though, those were some of the richest conversations I had that summer.

In Jesus’ dialogue with the disciples, he echoes Isaiah’s lost hope for those who fail “to see” or “hear.” He describes those who will never understand because they do not pay attention, they do not see because they have shut their eyes, nor do they hear, or perceive because their hearts have grown dull. His command to listen falls on deaf ears much like the seeds which fall on rocky soil. Those who do not see or hear have no foundation in which the seeds of wisdom and truth Jesus shares can take root. Without a sure foundation, our faith when life presents stressors, when one’s faith is confronted or challenged will wilt and fail to produce good fruit.  

While we were in England there was an announcement we heard every time we took the tube that I just loved: “See it, say it, sorted.” In other words, stay alert, be present to your surroundings, listen and tell someone if something seems off. It seems to me Jesus is saying pretty much the same thing: See it – be present to those around you; Say it – if you’re concerned or worried, if you think you can help with something make an offer, let the other person know you care; and always trust Christ and the Holy Spirit to know what we need before we ask and that it will be “sorted!”

 Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - How often do you catch yourself only partly listening to a friend or even a loved one? How often do you feel only partly heard when you’re earnestly trying to confide in someone or ask for help? How often do you feel invisible, unseen? Consider what that feels like and then consider how might you change your own habits? How might you be more present to others, to Christ.

Whole-hearted integrity is hard

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 106:1-18; PM Psalm 106:19-48; Lev. 23:1-22; 2 Thess. 2:1-17; Matt. 7:1-12

Each day this week in the Daily Office, we have been hearing bits of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Yesterday his message was to stop the worrying. (Easier said than done!) “Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” (Matthew 6:25) How does he suggest ceasing the whirling minds of those trying to keep their children and themselves nourished? Jesus calls the crowd to slow down and enter into a contemplative posture, to “consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin”. He then goes to comparison: the grandeur of the flowers in the wild rivals the regal attire of the famed King Solomon. I appreciate that his words of guidance do not disparage those who wear nice clothes; rather, he instructs the listeners to get their priorities aligned in choices around living and praying: “strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (v. 33)

Today Jesus continues sharing wisdom and inspiration as he addresses our inclinations to judge the people around us. The teacher and rabbi says, “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgement you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get” (Matthew 7:1-2). In essence, you get what you put in – heading right back at you! As I sit with Matthew’s gospel for today, a piece of music comes to mind. A version of this paradigm is contained in the lyrics of The Beatles’ song “The End”. Paul McCartney sings, “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make…” Maybe they were not pointing to the Golden Rule, but Jesus is, for he wraps up this portion of his sermon in this way: “In everything do to others as you would have them do to you; for this is the law and the prophets.” (v. 12)

Again and again, Jesus calls us to find balance. To adjust our expectations. And to live with integrity, walking the walking and talking the talk of faith in God. Jesus’ teachings point us toward living whole-heartedly. And none of us are whole when we are comparing and complaining, missing the goodness and potential for growth that is within us. I wonder, as you revisit these portions of the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 6-7), what sticks out for you? What spiritual goodness is God calling you to cultivate in the week ahead?

Blessings in Eastertide,
Katherine+

Connections in Your Life

Spend a bit of time this weekend re-reading Jesus' Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7).

What creative expressions come to mind as you ponder the nuggets of wisdom? Do you think of songs or art or slogans? Tap into your own creative inspiration.

An Ethic for Today - May 6

Over the past seven years, the Rev. Fleming Rutledge has been caregiving for her husband and largely absent from the pulpit. She is an evangelical voice in our tradition, a titan in the preaching world, and someone who stirs my own faith to proclaim the hope of Jesus Christ more boldly. For the past two seasons of Advent, I have read her collection of sermons and essays Advent: The Once & Future Coming of Jesus Christ for my own formation and spiritual growth.

This past week, she posted her first Substack essay, Preaching in the Trump Era, which you can read here. If you are someone responsible for preaching, you might find this exceptionally helpful. In her essay, she suggests that perhaps one of the greatest threats to democracy is the way we have siloed ourselves into parties and lost the ability to care for, listen to, and engage with one another.

She explores the polarization among Iranian expats, quoting a New York Times article: “Friendships and business relationships have broken down… vicious insults have been exchanged online… ‘People are kind of scared of clearly explaining their point of view,’ says an Iranian-born academic.”  She believes we have reached a “time when public expression of contempt for those who are on the other side politically has reached an extreme never before seen in American public life.”  I think she rightly asserts our universal connection to social media is the engine for this.

If you’re curious about her response and don’t have time to read the full article, she believes the preacher’s task is to gather narratives that serve as illustrations—stories that show people how to love and embody the truth of the Christian faith, and that help us avoid the catastrophic divisions within communities that the church is struggling to address as opposed to the typical exhortation that produces either shame or agreement.

While I don’t have a compelling illustration to offer here—and may be slipping into exhortation in this reflection—today’s Epistle from Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians offers a powerful example. Today’s reading comes at the end of the letter. Paul appeals to the Christian community to be at peace among themselves. He encourages them to admonish those who have stopped working because they believe the second coming of Christ is imminent, and to encourage the fainthearted. Paul urges them to help the weak, to be patient with all, and to repay no one evil for evil. He calls the community to rejoice always, to pray without ceasing, and to give thanks in all circumstances.

What strikes me is how practical and how demanding this vision really is. Paul is describing a way of life that resists the very fractures we see all around us. In a world that rewards outrage, fear, and division, this kind of community stands out. It takes discipline to rejoice when anxiety feels more natural, to pray when we would rather react, and to give thanks when the world feels unsteady. It takes courage to refuse to repay evil for evil.

And yet, this is exactly the kind of life that can begin to heal what is broken among us. It is small but transformative acts of faithfulness that we are called to live out.  This is how the Church becomes a witness to a different way of being human.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection:
Where in your life are you being invited to resist division and instead practice the quiet, faithful work of peace?

Sharing Our Faith - May 4

Today’s Readings -  Psalm 56, 57, [58]; Lev. 16:1-19; 1 Thess. 4:13-18; Matt. 6:1-6,16-18

When I was in the sixth grade my mom sent a note to school to say that I wouldn’t be eating lunch. It was Ash Wednesday, and my family fasted on the first day of Lent. My teacher was not the kindest of people. Rather than quietly allowing me to sit in the library during lunch she found the idea of fasting ridiculous and made sure all my classmates knew how she felt, ridiculing me in front of everyone. The attention was painful. I can only imagine what she would have done if I had come to school that morning after having received my ashes. I wasn’t seeking attention, it wasn’t even my idea to fast, it was at my mother’s insistence that our family fast on certain holy days, but I took the brunt of it. 

 As an adult after receiving my ashes, people will occasionally ask if I know I have a dirty smudge on my forehead. Or they may ask what it means. As a sixth grader I wasn’t savvy enough to explain the importance of religious practices but as an adult their questions give me an opportunity to explain my faith and why the practice is meaningful to me. I’ve come to understand that there’s a fine line between bragging and living into our faith; between demonstrating our piety in order to impress others or living boldly without fear of retribution or ridicule, not considering the attention it might garner. 

 People all over the world are punished, and some put to death because of their religious practices. We are fortunate to have religious freedoms that many live without. Pious practices can reveal our faith, and they can also bring us deep, lasting joy that can be hard to achieve in this world. Our world is a place that easily induces fear and anxiety. There are wars, climate change, prices are going up on everything, rental rates have surpassed what many who have a minimum wage job can afford and the violence that we hear about on the news seems to grow worse everyday. People are lonelier now than ever before and it feels as though some of us are losing hope and losing a sense of joy in the world. 

 I believe joy and hope are two of our most precious commodities. Joy bubbles up from our deepest places. Unlike happiness we can experience deep joy in the midst of pain, grief, even tragedy. Hope may be hard to come by.  When we lose hope something inside us dies and in a way, we quit living to our fullest. 

 Perhaps what Christ is trying to say in today's gospel is that those who abuse the practices of piety need to understand that we don’t do them for others. We do them for the joy they bring, to honor God, to bring us closer to God and to our true selves, not for anyone else’s benefit, not to impress others, or to elevate ourselves in other’s opinions. They are for us and for God alone.

 So, practice your piety but do so with the joy that comes from knowing Christ, from having a reason to hope for life eternal, and share why your piety is important. You never know who you might inspire – impressing them for all the right reasons. 

 Faithfully,

 Sally+

 Questions for Reflection and Challenge - How do you practice your piety? What are some ways you can bring yourself closer to God? How might you share your piety so that you might draw others closer to God?

40

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 40, 54; PM Psalm 51; Exod. 34:18-35; 1 Thess. 3:1-13; Matt. 5:27-37

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I tried to write this reflection last night, matching up the reiteration of the law in Exodus 34 with Jesus’ exposition of the law and its practical applications in Matthew 5. While there are ways to weave these two pieces of scripture together, today’s reflection will not be able to encompass that. I find my heart and creative energies leading me to grow in faithfulness within the prayers of Psalm 40, which begins:

I waited patiently upon the Lord; he stooped to me and heard my cry.

He lifted me out of the desolate pit, out of the mire and clay; he set my feet upon a high cliff and made my footing sure.

He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God; many shall see, and stand in awe, and put their trust in the Lord.

Happy are they who trust in the Lord! they do not resort to evil spirits or turn to false gods.

As I re-read these words this morning, I hear them anew. I think about how I waited patiently on the side of the road yesterday, just able to pull out of traffic onto a quiet residential street before my radiator overheated. I turned off the car just as the warning light went on. A wide puff of steam billowed from underneath my car. And I said, “Oh no.” (I really don’t think I cussed…and if you know me, that is a miracle in itself!) God stooped to me and heard my cry.

I waited for my husband to come with coolant. I felt a surge of adrenaline and unrest in my gut as I sat, but I did not feel sucked into the mire and clay. It was a holy moment. Now, I did worry a little – but I was not deeply fearful. The psalmist says God made their footing sure upon that high cliff, above the chaos; my experience reflects a similar feeling of steadiness, with joy intact.

I believe that the Lord put a new song in my mouth – a song of wholeness and peace. Sam arrived in minutes. I felt gratitude for his presence and for the full-circle moment. You see, Sam and I met on a rural roadside in 2005 when my sister’s radiator exploded. That February afternoon began a chapter that changed both of our lives for the better, and I give thanks to God for that.

The psalmist observes that many will see and it will shape their lives…I cannot speak to exactly how many people observed my roadside quandary. (I imagine many were grateful they were not in a similar situation!) And yet, a dear friend saw us from the slow-moving traffic, calling from her window, “Katherine! Sam! Do you need help?” She took Robinson to his baseball game while we navigated handling my car. I called another friend who offered their extra vehicle in the meantime.

The psalmist exclaims, “Happy are they who trust in the Lord!” for they do not get sucked into negative and destructive thoughts and attitudes. While I was not happy about my stalled car, I choose to see my roadside delay as a space of practicing the mindset of blessing and gratitude. Faith in God brought me resilience to endure waiting (and waiting) for a tow truck. Faith in God brought me clarity of thought and kept me present in the now, rather than slipping into the lament of inconvenience and unknown expense. Faith in God kept me grateful for the timing of the radiator’s demise and for the kindness of Trevor who towed my car to the mechanic last night.

Faith in God does not keep us from experiencing disappointment. Faith in God can recenter our hearts and eyes so that challenges do not dislodge us from the foundation of love and goodness that connects to one another and to our Lord. When we walk in faith, we are more likely to act faithfully. I pray that you can rejoice in God this Friday, for you are loved and not alone; God is ever our helper and deliverer (v. 19).

Blessings in Eastertide,
Katherine+

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Connections in Your Life

Did you know that U2 wrote a song based on Psalm 40? Take a listen to their reflection on this ancient psalm from a 1983 concert at Red Rocks.

How does Psalm 40 resonate with your life today?

Giving Our Hearts to Christ - April 27

Today’s Readings - Psalm 84 Exodus 3:1-6 Revelation 21:1-4 Matthew 6:19-23

Every once in a while the Church recognizes a person who is not considered a saint or a person of biblical regard. Today Christina Georgiana Rossetti is remembered by the Church of England for her writing and pious lifestyle. At first glance she may not seem especially remarkable, even though she was considered by many to be one of the more important poets of the nineteenth century. But perhaps that is what does make her so beautifully remarkable.

She began writing at the age of twelve years and continued throughout her lifetime. In addition to several beloved poems, and hymnody, which included "In the Bleak Midwinter," she also wrote over 500 devotional poems. Born in London to Italian parents she lived from 1830-1894.  At one time she was said to have had a depressive episode but despite that Rossetti, a devout Anglo-Catholic Anglican, regularly went to confession, took communion twice a week, faithfully attended church services, and observed morning and evening prayer. Throughout her life she suffered from health issues, causing her to live a more cloistered life. She spent much of her later life volunteering with various charities. In many ways Rossetti’s quiet pious lifestyle and creative genius could describe any number of people I know – people who are passionate about their craft and their Lord. People who use their talents to widen the eyes and gladden the hearts of others. People who give their most valuable asset - their time – away freely to others in need.

The gospel reading for her day today is from Matthew and speaks to those treasures of our lives that we cannot store in a box under the bed or in a display cabinet to collect dust. Rather her treasure was the kind that at the end of a hard day of work warmed her heart, knowing her time had been spent serving her Lord. Never marrying even though asked three times, Rossetti gave her heart to Christ and gave her life to glorifying Christ and helping others. 

Maybe it’s her creative side that attracts me or possibly it’s because she never seemed to lose focus on what was most important to her. Despite ongoing health issues, she continued to serve. She saw life as an endless opportunity to create, to praise, to serve and in return her life was filled with a light that could never be extinguished.

We sing a song on All Saint’s Day that reminds us that “the saints of God are just folk like me.” The collect for today ends with this: “Help us to follow her (Christina’s) example in giving our hearts to Christ, who is love. . .” Perhaps at first glance her amazing gifts to the world are not all that apparent. However, as the hymn says, saints are just folks like us. Rosseti was incredibly talented and she shared that talent with the world. She lived a life of dedication and humility, freely offering self-sacrifice to her Lord. The value of these gifts will never be diminished or lost. If we really took that to heart how might our lives be different? Would we help ease the drive for perfection that our youth we are told are burdened by and instead, encourage them to find joy in what they do? Using their gifts to the glory of God without need to be perfect? Would we try harder to find joy ourselves, using our time and talents to glorify God?

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - How might we give our hearts to Christ in love? What are a few simple ways you could focus your talents or time on shining the light of Christ into the world?

The Book of the Covenant

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 105:1-22; PM Psalm 105:23-45; Exod. 24:1-18; Col 2:8-23; Matt. 4:12-17

When reading the Bible by sections prescribed by the lectionary following the Daily Office, we sometimes get to read sequential passages, like this week’s readings through Exodus, Colossians, and Matthew. I noted a jump, however, in today’s selection from the Hebrew scriptures. We skipped Exodus 21, 22, and 23 entirely! And what did we miss? The answer: a whole lot of rules.

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Called the Book of the Covenant, these three chapters give specific examples that flow from the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20). The exposition includes civil, moral, and legal guidelines by which the Hebrew people are to live. There are copious details given for the treatment of slaves, the punishment for injury of people and livestock, and means for upholding justice with truth and fairness, to name a few.

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I was surprised as I pressed on through Exodus rules, for I found encouragement! The Lord advises in Exodus 23, “I am going to send an angel in front of you, to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared. Be attentive to him and listen to his voice...” (v. 20-21a) We are not left to our own meager devices on this wild experience of life. We are intrinsically connected to one another in hardship and joy. These directions in Exodus give the Hebrew people specifics about what is and is not okay when living in community – because God wants good for all of creation. And there is help for us. Jesus was the embodiment of this when he came to the earth to live, heal, and give his life for the world to live more fully. Jesus, too, came to offer guidance, protection, and healing.

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How do we embrace Exodus today? We strive to abide by the Ten Commandments, as they offer a faithful framework for being in relationship. While Moses doused the Israelites with ox blood as they promised to be obedient, our Christian context of commitment looks different. Ours is an initiation in baptism, as we are baptized in the trinitarian formula and sealed by the Holy Spirit with oil upon our heads, forever marked as God’s. We receive new life in this gift, and when we slip into sin, we repent and return to the Lord. Let’s celebrate resurrection hope and the gift of being made anew in Christ! Alleluia!

Blessings in Eastertide,
Katherine+

Connections in Your Life 

Dr. Josh Reeves from Samford University spoke on Sunday morning about how theology informs our understanding of chance encounters. I commend his talk to you (available here). He offered that perhaps God gives us nudges through our existence, working within the systems already in motion. Take a listen and ponder where you find God’s movement in your life.

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Life Worth Living - April 22

I’ve found myself in two different conversations about baptismal identity centered on what it really means to be a Christian and the identity that you and I have as people of faith. Those conversations were still echoing in my mind when I read from the Epistle to the Colossians in today’s lectionary reading, specifically the reminder that we are called to pray for each other.

In this reading, Paul names what he sees in the community: faith, love, and hope. And then he tells them that he is praying for them. He prays that they would grow in wisdom, bear fruit, be strengthened, and live lives worthy of the life they’ve been given. Maybe that is the heart of what it means to live out our faith—to live lives worthy of the life we have been given. What a noble, and honestly, challenging idea.

One of the most thoughtful books I’ve read in the past few years is Life Worth Living: A Guide to What Matters Most, written by three theologians who teach one of the most sought-after courses at Yale. Students describe the class as life-changing. A few summers ago, I had the chance to sit in on a lecture by Miroslav Volf, who helps lead that work.

At the core of their teaching is a simple but profound claim: much of Western culture is facing a kind of crisis—not necessarily of resources or opportunity, but of meaning. We have more ways to live than ever before, but less clarity about what makes a life good, true, or worth living.

And that’s where I find a connection to baptismal identity. In baptism, we are not just given a belief system; we are given a way of life. We are claimed by God, joined to Christ, and sent into the world not just to get through life, but to help reveal what a life rooted in love, grace, and purpose actually looks like.

Part of our calling, then, is not only to seek a life worth living for ourselves, but to help others discover it too. This is why our baptismal identity is so important.  It is the work of gathering weekly to be nourished by Word and Sacrament, the work of striving for justice and peace for all people, and the work of respecting the dignity of every human being. This is life-changing work, life worth living.

I am more than grateful to be a part of this life-giving community. The Western world is hungry for meaning and purpose, and many are likely finding it in the wrong places. May we help people live lives worth living, rooted in the Body of Christ.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection:  How do you live a life worth living?  What questions do you need to be asking?  Where is there an opportunity for reflection and growth in your own life?

God Has Our Back - April 20

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 25; PM Psalm 9, 15 Exod. 18:13-27; 1 Pet. 5:1-14; Matt. (1:1-17),3:1-6

Yesterday, marked the third Sunday of the great Fifty Days of Easter. In the Gospel we saw the hospitality of two travelers extended to a stranger, someone they met along the road. Something that could have been dangerous, risky at best. Today’s reading from I Peter, admonishes the church to tend God’s flock, to care for one another without pride or arrogance, but with humility and compassion. Much like the two followers of Jesus on the road to Emmaus, who extended hospitality to the stranger, offering kindness, shelter and food.

 It occurred to me in yesterday’s gospel that there are times in our lives when we are not ready to hear or see what’s staring us in the face. It may be the face of a stranger or someone we see every day. However, when we are ready to see with eyes that can embrace the truth the Holy Spirit is always present to lead us. 

 Each of us lives with circumstances that we may not be ready to fully see. It may be a relationship that needs attention, an illness, a family member’s addiction, or a mental health issue. It may be concern for the world, for our environment, for those caught in war torn areas or the thousands of other concerns that surround us daily. Whatever it is it may be that we cannot acknowledge the reality of whatever it is because we aren’t capable of picking up that cross and carrying it. The burden of it may seem too heavy, overwhelming. 

 The disciples who encountered the risen Christ on the road to Emmaus were not ready to see who was standing in front of them. It took a while, but eventually their hearts were opened and their spirits primed so that they could fully embrace the reality of who it was that accompanied them along the road. 

Today’s letter from I Peter reminds us that “after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you.” 

The essence of our faith is that we have a God who will never leave us, never abandon us regardless of what we haven’t done or what we have done. In other words, our God will always have our back. 

 I don’t know how to rip off the blindfolds that prevent me from seeing all that I worry about but cannot fix, or all of the things that I might attempt but I’m paralyzed with fear or simply a feeling of incompetence. I do know however as Peter admonishes his church he might as well be speaking to me, to you, to all of us. We each have the capacity to do something, to do more. We each have the resources to make a difference, either in our lives or the lives of others. It just doesn’t always look possible.

 Have faith in the knowledge that God will “restore, support, strengthen, and establish you.” That God will have your back.

  Faithfully,

 Sally+

 Questions for Reflection and Challenge - What is it that you might be unwilling to acknowledge? Where are your blind spots? Ask God for the strength to open your eyes to the possibilities that lie before you. 

The catharsis of Good Friday

Today’s Readings: Psalm 22; Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Hebrews 10:16-25; John 18:1-19:1-42

I do not like saying goodbye. I have preached about it and written about it before. And at its heart, Good Friday is a day of saying “goodbye”. It is not that Jesus dies over and over each year. Rather, on Good Friday, we remember the tragedy of Jesus’ crucifixion and death. We remember the heartache that is connected to sacrifice. Good Friday is a process of releasing the vestiges of what we have known so that we move forward into what is next.

Diana Butler Bass has a Substack that I receive and sometimes read. She assembled an assortment of poems for Good Friday this year, inspired by the final seven sayings of Jesus:

·      "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34)

·      "Today you will be with me in paradise" (Luke 23:43)

·      "Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother" (John 19:26-27)

·      "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46)

·      "I thirst" (John 19:28)

·      "It is finished!" (John 19:30).

·      "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Luke 23:46).

Perhaps you have seen or experienced other reflections on these phrases on Good Friday. It was a meaningful bit of time for me to sit and reflect through a different lens of spirituality and creativity this morning. If you have time today, I invite you to reflect upon these works shared by Bass and the last seven phrases of Jesus as he lived among us.

Here’s what hit me hardest – saying goodbye means looking back at the regrets (as I pondered the poem “Phase One” on forgiveness by Dilruba Ahmed) and it also means cherishing the love (as I sat with the reflection called “Mother and Son” by Rosemery Wahtola Trommer). As I reached the end of the last work, “Love Letter from the Afterlife” written by Andrea Gibson (who died of cancer late last year), I wept. I wept for the death of Jesus. I wept for losses of life within my own circle. I wept for those I love who are still here. I just wept.

I pray that you have the grace and ability to stay tender today. For it is in our vulnerability that we grow strong. It is in the tears that we can feel love most deeply. Let us remain centered on that this Holy Week – so that we may live fully into the neverending love that God has for us - and invite others to share in it, too.

With God's love,

Katherine+

Reflection and Challenge

Sit with the last seven phrases of Jesus mentioned above. Listen for how the Holy Spirit is stirring you on this Good Friday. Take note of the feelings you have. Give yourself the space to feel and be, and give thanks to God.

…but you cannot bear them now

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 16, 17; PM Psalm 134, 135; Exod. 16:23-36; 1 Pet. 3:13-4:6; John 16:1-15

In the gospel according to John, we learn of Jesus’ characteristics – including that he is “full of grace and truth.” He demonstrates divine grace in his healing and restorative miracles. He calls people into deeper truth – with God, themselves and in community.

In John 16, Jesus speaks to his friends, telling them, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth…”

You cannot bear them now…this phrase resonates with me today. Jesus does not specifically say that the disciples are overwhelmed, yet he knows them. He watches how they respond to the immense experience of being formed as his students.

“Overwhelming” is the word that bubbles up as I ponder this scripture. To accept that Jesus will be forsaken, tried, and executed? That he will be raised up on the third day? To hear the full scale of what Jesus needs his disciples to be equipped to be and do as apostles in the world? All of that is overwhelming. It is hard to receive a whole lot of truth at once.

Not too long ago there was an issue I needed to acknowledge, yet I was resistant and proud. Someone I respect pulled me aside to help me face some hard and real truths about myself. It was painful to bear the honest feedback. In truth, it left me feeling a bit lost as I processed and prayed through the next days. I felt overwhelmed and upended, and yet, I was never lost to God. And with God’s help, I continue to grow and learn.

Perhaps there are things in front of you that feel too big and too much. It may feel like you cannot bear them now. Know that the grace and truth of Jesus and the tender compassion of our God will not disappoint you. I pray that there are those around you who speak honestly and lovingly to you, supporting you as you, too, grow and learn. As fellow travelers upon the road, we need one another.

Blessings in Eastertide,
Katherine+

Challenge

Can you feel when you are growing overwhelmed? How do you respond? How can you be more grace-filled in accepting yourself when you feel this way?

Today, ponder the prayers can you offer to God for your own care. Practice opening your eyes to care for others when they carry too heavy a load.

Self-Examination - April 15

Do you feel the ongoing need to respond to every ridiculous thing that we see online, or posted by podcasters, politicians, and people claiming to have some sort of spiritual, religious, or moral authority?  If you think that is you, this reflection is for you and just to be clear, I’m writing to and for myself.

I’m not sure what we call the age we are living in—perhaps a “post-truth” age—where, with the rapid rise of artificial intelligence and the speed of information, it’s increasingly difficult to tell what is real. At times, it feels like we are watching Christianity evolve, or at least certain expressions of it, shaped less by deep formation and spiritual practice and more by a desire for power or control.

I won’t claim to be an expert on Christianity. I’ve been to seminary, I read Scripture daily, I teach and reflect on it as an Episcopal priest, and I still have so much to learn. What I do know is that this passage from Peter points to a significant focus of Christian formation, that is to turn the focus inward. It reminds us that following Jesus is to take a serious inventory of our own lives, so that we can be a reflection of God’s love in this world. 

Today’s reading from 1 Peter comes out of the gate strong: “Rid yourselves, therefore, of all malice, and all guile, insincerity, envy, and all slander.”

Peter names something essential about the human condition: we are all capable of malice, guile, insincerity, envy, and slander. The call to “rid ourselves” of these things is not a one-time act, but an ongoing, lifelong practice. It is part of what it means to be God’s people—so that “you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9).

The self-examination required of faithful living should lead us to humility, not shame, but an honest clarity about who we are and who God is calling us to become. As much as I may feel the pull to respond to every outrageous or frustrating thing I see online, and this week was a banner week for sure!

Peter’s call is not about moral perfection. It is about growth. “Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk.” There is deep hope in that image. It reminds us that transformation is possible, that it is ongoing, and that we are not stuck as we are.

Lives shaped by prayer, repentance, and a willingness to be changed.  This is the path of discipleship. To follow Jesus is not to win the argument. It is to become a people whose lives tell the truth.

Questions for Self- Reflection Question:
Where in your life is God inviting you to let go of something—an attitude, a habit, or a reaction—so that you might grow more fully into the light of Christ?

What We Leave Behind - April 13

Today’s Readings - AM Psalm 1, 2, 3; Exod. 14:21-31; 1 Pet. 1:1-12; John 14:(1-7)8-17

 Today’s gospel is likely one of the most comforting of all the passages in the Bible. It is often read at the burial office and many who are nearing death find comfort in its words. I’ve always found the idea of Jesus asking for an advocate to be with us after he’s gone to be one of my favorite parts. That’s incredibly thoughtful and reassuring of him, don’t you think? After all he’s been our Lord and Messiah, teacher, and friend – our everything. How wonderful would it be if our best friends sent someone to be here for us after they die?

There is a professional role that has developed more recently that at first, I thought was a bit odd. The person helps people plan for their death. Not so much a Life coach as a “How to carry on after I die” coach. It’s not so much about how the funeral will go or where their body will be placed but rather how to assist their family handle their absence once they’re gone. At first when I heard about this, I thought, “Oh wow, that’s the perfect thing for a control freak.” But the more I thought about it the more I realized how useful this could be.

The presentation I heard about highlighted one main tool – a three-ring binder - one of my favorite inventions of all time. In the binder there are tabs for everything the person takes care of. For example, which bills the person pays and when, the passwords to all the important things like the Amazon Prime movie channel, or the gym membership or more importantly, the bank accounts. Other areas might include, in which order the Christmas decorations come out of the basement and how to put them back up, or how to operate the washing machine and dryer. Which clothes definitely do not go into the wash and which ones go to the drycleaners. You get the picture. You have to admit, this could be pretty useful.

So, when Jesus is preparing his disciples for his inevitable departure, there were no three-ring binders so instead he tells them he will send another advocate, another because he has always been their advocate and now, they will need another. This advocate is who we know as part of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit. If the Holy Spirit knew all my passwords that might be a huge help but in truth what’s even better is that the Holy Spirit knows who we are and sees us for who we can be. The Holy Spirit knows our fears and misgivings, our potential for good and not so good and believes in us as beloved children of God. It’s the Holy Spirit that will be with us as we rejoice and as we die, our “all faithful” companion sent by God.

There’s a prayer to the Holy Spirit we use in Cursillo that goes like this:

Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful
and kindle in them the fire of your love.

Send forth your Spirit and they shall be created,
and you shall renew the face of the earth.

O God, who has taught the hearts of the faithful
by the light of the Holy Spirit,
grant that in the same Spirit we may be truly wise
and ever rejoice in his consolation.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

 I think it’s possible that Jesus had something like this in mind. That in His absence the Holy Spirit will fill our hearts with divine love, she will send forth His Spirit over the face of the earth, bringing renewal and a new creation within us, with wisdom and a joy that is boundless, celebrating Jesus’ infinite capacity for consolation.

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - What is it that you would like to leave for those you love? What do you want them to know? How might the Holy Spirit lead you to wise choices?

Keep Moving, You Can do This.

Today’s Readngs - AM Psalm 93, 98; Exod. 12:14-27; 1 Cor. 15:1-11; Mark 16:1-8

The very first sermon I preached was on Easter Monday, a day much like today. It was while I was in seminary. I had preached in our homiletics class but not for the community Eucharist. This was for the entire seminary, all the students and all the professors. I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared or intimidated. The room that we used as our chapel was an old lecture auditorium that was lower in the front and the rows of seats were like a sports auditorium. It was affectionately nicknamed the “Pit”, and it did feel like you were in a pit, with all the most learned people I knew staring down at you scrutinizing your every word. Of course, now I realize the expectations for new preachers was very low so if we didn’t completely blow the entire thing we were congratulated, and we could walk out of the “Pit” with a huge sigh of relief, grateful to know we had survived our first trial by fire. But that fear, that sense of dread was palatable.

Everyone would tell you “Don’t be afraid, we’ve all been there” or “You’ll do great,” but no matter how much encouragement was offered it was incredibly hard not to be afraid. We’ve all been in that place where no matter how hard we try, no matter how much we know that worrying doesn’t help, we just can’t put it out of our mind, we’re scared, and it doesn’t feel like anyone, or anything can change that. Whatever it may be, a diagnosis, a potential job loss or death, even a loss of status or reputation. Whatever it is it’s a real fear and can’t be pushed aside.

Some say that the phrase “Do not be afraid” or a similar phrase appears 365 times in the bible. Spoiler alert - it actually doesn’t. It’s closer to 103 times. Regardless, it may be the most repeated phrase in the Bible, and we certainly are reassured throughout the scriptures that we are God’s and that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God.  In today’s gospel, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome have gone to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body. When they arrive, the stone has been rolled away and a young man is sitting where their Lord’s body should be. He greets them and says, “Do not be afraid, . . . Jesus of Nazareth has been raised, he is not here.” Their initial reaction is not relief or joy but fear, they are seized by terror. We know as the morning progresses into days and weeks, their fear is transformed into relief and joy. But that initial shock and fear was paralyzing.

You’ve been there, haven’t you? I know I have. So, what helps us take that first step? What gets us out of bed in the morning? What helps us get on with our lives? Our belief in the risen Christ, in the Holy Trinity tells us that we are never alone. That we are beloved children of God. It may not always feel like it, but we are never going to be separated from the love of God. Once we can catch our breath, walking out of the tomb looking towards the day ahead, the Holy Spirit, takes us by the hand and walks with us. Our faith in the love of God and Jesus Christ gets us out of bed. God is love, and perfect love drives out fear. Allow yourself to be fully embraced by that love, remind yourself that whatever is ahead or behind, whatever is frightening is only one part of your world, we are so much more, there is so much more in our lives for which to be grateful. So listen, listen to that small quiet voice from God that tells us, “Keep moving, you can do this.”

Faithfully,

Sally+

Questions for Reflection and Challenge - What is it that you are most afraid of? How do you deal with the uncertainty? Have you taken it to God?

Our Culture of Violence - April 1

One of my favorite new ministries emerging at Saint Stephen’s is the supper that follows the Celtic service. Most Sundays, we share a meal and sit around the table talking about the sermon, theology, and life. It’s a simple but meaningful way to build community and offer formation for our 5:00 p.m. community.

Last Sunday, we had a fascinating conversation about atonement theology. Someone shared that they didn’t think Jesus had to die—as if it were something God required. That question has stayed with me. Lately, I’ve come to see Jesus’s death not as something demanded by God, but as the natural and tragic consequence of the escalation of human violence.

We can’t seem to help ourselves. We go to war in order to bring about peace. We justify harm in the name of order. Is it any surprise, then, that an innocent son of a carpenter—one who disrupted systems, challenged power, and reoriented people toward love—would be crucified in an effort to keep things “peaceful”?

I think Holy Week invites us to wrestle honestly with this part of our human nature and our deep and persistent tendency to use violence to solve our problems. Not much has changed in 2,000 years.

Mark’s Gospel for today, the parable of the vineyard, speaks directly into this reality. The landowner keeps sending servants, and they are beaten, rejected, and killed. And then finally, the beloved son is sent and he too is killed. If we pause long enough, we might ask: Where is the outrage? Why aren’t we more shocked?

Perhaps it’s because, deep down, we recognize the pattern. We expect it. We understand, even if we don’t want to admit it, the primal, violent impulses that live within humanity and within ourselves.

And yet, this is not the end of the story. Because it is into this very world that Jesus enters. It is in the midst of our violence, our fear, our need to control, that Christ takes on death itself and transforms it.

And so Holy Week is not just something we remember. It is something we enter that changes how we are to live and be in this world. Whom do we follow and whom do we emulate? May it be the one who has shown us the way of the Lord.

John+

Question for Self-Reflection: Where does your own life intersect with our culture of violence?

Why Do We Pray?

Readings for Today -  Psalm 51:1-18(19-20); Lam. 1:1-2,6-12; 2 Cor. 1:1-7; Mark 11:12-25

Have you ever wondered why we pray? One of the most meaningful reasons I’ve ever heard is that prayer is a personal response to God’s presence. Sure, sometimes I know we pray because we need something from God. It may be that we need healing for ourselves or someone else, or we desire safe passage or guidance in decision making. The list is endless. But why do we really pray? If God is all knowing then God already knows what we need, what our utmost heart’s desire is. If the desire to pray, is in fact placed within us by God as many believe it is, then God is already reaching out and in prayer we are responding. We are responding to God’s call, to God’s presence that is already in our hearts.

Prayer has always been a way for me to feel closer and more connected to God. It also helps remind me that I’m utterly and completely dependent on God. In the same way I begin missing a close friend after we’ve gone a while without talking, I miss God if I haven’t taken time to stop and be quiet, to allow myself the time to be present to God. If God is always present, then we must be the one who drifts away.  

In today’s gospel, Jesus tells his disciples, “. . . whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received*it, and it will be yours.” Here’s where the waters get muddy for me: in James’s letter, 4:2, the author writes, “You do not have because you do not ask.” So, is our “having” partly dependent on our asking? The message here is not that we will be given our hearts desire every time we ask, the message rather is that we should ask with utter and complete faith and trust in God’s ability to provide. Not provide just anything. That may be where the trust on our part comes into play.

That may be a taller order than we’re prepared to follow. What does it require of us to have total faith and trust in God? Are we willing to give up control? Are we willing to allow that we don’t always know what is best and that asking for God’s will to be done is what in fact is best?  

Let’s go back to my original question, “Why do we pray?” There have been many times when what I prayed for did not come to pass, at least not as I envisioned it. However, even if I didn’t see it or realize it, I was changed. Prayer can be a bit like spiritual exercise. It strengthens our connection to God, it guides our understanding of God’s presence in our lives, and it deepens our relationship and trust in God. Prayer is more important than we realize, and it changes us more than we may recognize. So, maybe that’s the reason why we pray. Even if we think our prayers aren’t answered, never doubt that they aren’t heard.

Faithfully,

Sally+

 Questions for Reflection and Challenge – Do you have a regular prayer time each day? It’s never too late to begin and it can be quite simple. Starting is the hard part.