Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18
1 Hear, O Shepherd of Israel, leading Joseph like a flock; shine forth, you that are enthroned upon the cherubim.
2 In the presence of Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manasseh, stir up your strength and come to help us.
3 Restore us, O God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.
4 O Lord God of hosts, how long will you be angered despite the prayers of your people?
5 You have fed them with the bread of tears; you have given them bowls of tears to drink.
6 You have made us the derision of our neighbors, and our enemies laugh us to scorn.
7 Restore us, O God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.
16 Let your hand be upon the man of your right hand, the son of man you have made so strong for yourself.
17 And so will we never turn away from you; give us life, that we may call upon your Name.
18 Restore us, O Lord God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.
(This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.)
During the eucharist, as the celebrant begins the prayer of thanksgiving over the bread and wine, that person will find a variety of prefaces to offer. The prefaces are prayers changing with the liturgical season. For the season of Christmas, here is a preface for the incarnation:
O God, who wonderfully created, and yet more wonderfully restored, the dignity of human nature: Grant that we may share the divine life of him who humbled himself to share our humanity, your Son Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.
That prayer not only celebrates the gift of creation. It also speaks of how God is in the business of wonderfully restoring the dignity of human nature, made possible because Jesus humbled himself to share our humanity. I started thinking about the meaning of restoration as I prepared to reflect on the psalm you may have heard in church yesterday, reprinted in this email.
Did you catch how three times in that psalm, there is a prayer that God will restore us by the light of God’s countenance. There is the goodness of creation all around us. At the same time, it is tempered by the fact that in each of our lives, in our life together in our households, in our common life as a nation and a global village, there’s plenty of need for restoration.
In the wisdom of the Prayer Book, apparently Christmas is a time for that restoration to begin to take place. I’m wondering where you see that need. The psalm suggests that the restoration will come as the countenance of the Holy One is shown. Christmas tells us that we find that encounter in Jesus, who by his teaching and miracles and self-offering made restoration a possibility.
Restoration comes in the teaching of Jesus, who taught us that there are no limits to the call to forgiveness, who told parables about restored relationships like the prodigal son (Luke 15), stories of neighborliness overcoming societal divisions as in the good Samaritan (Luke 10), or visions of care for those in the margins, as the parable of the king (Matthew 25) who says as you have served the least of these, you have been serving me.
Restoration comes in the miracles of Jesus, who showed us that his ministry was all about healing, in fulfillment of the prophecies of the Hebrew scripture. As a result, this kind of restoration could take place: the blind will see, the deaf will hear, the lame will walk, prisoners will be released.
Restoration comes in the self offering that took him all the way to the cross, where he stretched out arms of love to draw us into his saving embrace, the restoration of our relationship to God.
As you begin this week which includes all kinds of celebrations, spend some time, maybe a little time each day, thinking about where you see a need in your life for restoration. Then consider the ways in which Jesus does the work of restoration, and how that restoration is the good news of our Christmas celebrations. And offer this prayer from the preface of the incarnation: Grant that we may share the divine life of him who humbled himself to share our humanity, your Son Jesus Christ.
-Jay Sidebotham
Canticle 15, The Song of Mary
The Magnificat, Luke 1:46-55
My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed: the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation.
He has shown the strength of his arm, he has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and has lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel, for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
The promise he made to our fathers, to Abraham and his children for ever.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.
(This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.)
Yesterday in church, you may have heard the Magnificat, a canticle recited in place of a psalm or perhaps rendered musically. (We’ve reprinted it in this email in case you missed it.) It’s the song sung by Mary in response to the news from the angel that she was going to deliver a baby who would be called the Son of the Most High. Mary begins by proclaiming the greatness of the Lord. It got me thinking about what it means to proclaim.
I recalled a session with a theology professor who led us in reflection on the problem of evil. We all recognized that it is indeed a mystery why bad things happen to good people. Without making arguments that would try to tie everything up in a neat package, he said that in many of life’s difficult moments we are called to proclaim when we can’t explain. We are called to withstand when we can’t understand.
In that call to proclaim, we are given a way to move forward when life seems to present us with a dead end, with suffering that is unscripted and inexplicable. The willingness to proclaim the goodness and greatness of God, the love of God always with us, may in many circumstances present a great challenge to our faith. But we follow Mary’s example, proclaiming the greatness of God even as her life was turned upside down, even as she might well become the object of scorn and scandal, even as she is told that the child she raises will mean that a sword will go through her own heart, even as later on in the gospels we meet her at the foot of the cross.
We proclaim even if we can’t explain.
Coming again this week to our baptismal covenant, in that liturgy we make the promise to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ. Life’s circumstances may make it tough to think about good news. But we proclaim good news anyway.
I’m preparing a homily for a Blue Christmas Service, a liturgy intended to support those who have experienced loss and contend with grief. It’s made me mindful that the season of Christmas itself is marked by challenges. On December 21, we remember St. Thomas of doubting fame, so blinded by grief he cannot believe Jesus is alive. The day after Christmas, we observe the feast of St. Stephen, the first martyr in the history of the church. Then we observe the feast of St. John whose life ended in exile. After that, we observe the horror of the slaughter of innocents. We remember Thomas a Becket brutally murdered in the Cathedral. There’s no explanation for these tragedies. But we are nevertheless called to proclaim good news. As Handel points out in his selection of scriptures for the Messiah, Jesus is a man acquainted with grief. The good news? We have not been left alone to face the challenges.
And as we proclaim when we can’t explain, we are recognizing the great mysteries of our faith, beyond our understanding. As St. Paul said, we now see through a glass darkly. With limited vision, we go ahead and proclaim the good news of amazing grace, by which we are on the receiving end of God’s love. We join Mary in proclaiming the greatness of a God who in the words of the Magnificat takes the side of those who are poor, who lifts up the lowly.
As we move into the Christmas season, what will you proclaim, by word and example? There is indeed good news to share, including the good news that even in life’s most challenging moments, God is with us.
-Jay Sidebotham
RenewalWorks is a ministry of Forward Movement, which seeks to inspire disciples and empower evangelists each day through books, small-group studies, apps, podcasts, video courses, online communities, and conferences.
This Advent season, Forward Movement’s newest pocket-sized prayer book, The Booklet of Common Prayer, has quickly become one of its most popular. In fact, as of today, nearly 2,500 copies have been ordered in just a few short weeks. A second printing is underway.
We are grateful to Adam McLain, who through his own spiritual study, developed this offering. Here is Adam’s first-hand account of the project’s origins:
It's difficult for me to succinctly describe the origins of this project. I'm reminded of the quote by Carl Sagan: "If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe."
The project came from my own desire for a compact physical version of Morning Prayer. I had just ended an experimental project that attempted to integrate the elements in Enriching Our Worship, Volume 1, in line with the Daily Office. The result was much too confusing to use practically, but I did gain understanding of the formatting and styling of the BCP.
I had recently come across a promotional booklet that was shaped like a passport and thought I might be able to use that format as a basis for a small prayer book with just Morning Prayer. During my work on the previously mentioned "Enriched" Daily Office I realized that much of Evening Prayer overlaps with Morning Prayer, and with proper rubrics, a single form could be used for both services. The goal was to keep all the original liturgical beats, but just to reduce the number of options available; for example, four opening verses instead of twenty. I spent a weekend creating a very rough draft to test the viability of the idea. The resulting booklet largely resembles the final project today: Morning and Evening Prayer, a week's worth of lessons, daily devotions for individuals and families, and miscellaneous prayers.
I had intended to self-publish the Booklet to give out to friends, family, and fellow parishioners, but then I was put in contact with Scott Gunn, the Executive Director of Forward Movement. I was hoping to either give the idea to Forward Movement to run with, or to get some practical advice about publishing in such a small form. Scott gave me some wonderful feedback and shortly thereafter expressed interest in publishing the project. He put me in touch with their content editor, Kristin LeMay, who was invaluable to the final result of the project and whom I cannot laud enough.
My vision for the project was always to create a beautiful physical object that was personal and meaningful to the owner. The intent wasn't for this to be someone’s main prayer book, but a way to still connect with the Daily Office while traveling, or on the go. I wanted it to feel approachable, with a wisp of playfulness; that it should honor the heritage and seriousness of the book it draws from. While a physical object, I also wanted it to disappear in a sense, such that its size and weight could be a rounding error, allowing someone to carry it in a pocket or bag without being aware of it.
Originally, my expectation was that there might be a few hundred people who—if they became aware of the Booklet—would "get it" and appreciate it. When the project moved to Forward Movement, they helped to broaden the potential audience to include people who may never have prayed the Daily Office before, as well as those who are more familiar with the prayer book.
If it is resonating with readers, I hope it's because people are eager to connect with God in their daily lives.
I think we are living in a wonderful time for those who practice the Daily Office: There are so many wonderful websites, podcasts, live online zoom sessions, and smartphone apps that make it more accessible than ever. My hope is that the Booklet can be one more option.
RenewalWorks and Forward Movement wish you a blessed Advent. May you find a way to quietly deepen your faith and connect with Christ this season.
Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19
1 Give the King your justice, O God, and your righteousness to the King's Son;
2 That he may rule your people righteously and the poor with justice;
3 That the mountains may bring prosperity to the people, and the little hills bring righteousness.
4 He shall defend the needy among the people; he shall rescue the poor and crush the oppressor.
5 He shall live as long as the sun and moon endure, from one generation to another.
6 He shall come down like rain upon the mown field, like showers that water the earth.
7 In his time shall the righteous flourish; there shall be abundance of peace till the moon shall be no more.
18 Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel, who alone does wondrous deeds!
19 And blessed be his glorious Name for ever! and may all the earth be filled with his glory. Amen. Amen.
(This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.)
Q: Will you strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being?
A: I will, with God's help.
Mark Twain reportedly said: “Never discuss politics or religion in polite company.” So much for polite company. Here goes.
While separation of church and state seems to have been a pretty good approach to our common life, the fact of the matter is that the story told in scripture is deeply political, with a lot to say about rulers. Joseph in the Hebrew Scriptures is presented as a wise leader and able government administrator. David and Solomon are seen as great kings, blessed by God in their monarchical roles. The prophets speak out against leaders of Israel and neighboring nations, naming names. One of the most interesting scriptural intersections comes as Pilate and Jesus have a private conversation about kingship and power (John 19). After Pilate releases Jesus for execution, a sign is placed on the cross: The King of the Jews. We recently celebrated the Sunday of Christ the King, prompting us to ask: What kind of king are we talking about?
This is the question the psalmist tries to answer in the psalm reprinted in this email and heard in church on the Second Sunday of Advent. The psalm is really a prayer for the king, that the king will lead as God would intend, defending the poor, rescuing the needy. It’s a far cry from current leadership in our country, as the occupant of the White House last week described the people of an entire nation, a poor nation (i.e., Somalia), as garbage. I’m not sure how Bible-believing politicians (I’m looking at you, Mike Johnson) square that with what the Bible actually says. It’s a far cry from our baptismal covenant which commits us to respect the dignity of every human being. But the question remains for those who would follow Jesus: What kind of king are we talking about?
The psalmist may have had David or Solomon in mind when crafting this prayerful psalm. Maybe it’s a prayer for kings that followed, boldly criticized by the prophets. Christians can see a vision of Christ the King in this psalm, as the psalm speaks of a ruler transcending all time. The vision of a just ruler in this psalm is echoed in Jesus’ parable in Matthew 25, in which Jesus represents a king holding followers accountable. When those followers fed the poor, welcomed the stranger (read refugee and immigrant), clothed the naked, helped heal the sick, visited prisoners, they did so to Christ himself. When they failed to do those things, when they left undone those things which they ought to have done, they were ignoring Christ. The king, the ruler, then places himself along side those pushed to the edges. Where would you find yourself this morning, standing before Christ the King?
I confess that while I write letters to representatives, donate to politicians who reflect values I care about, vote accordingly, I sense that those small steps probably won’t change anybody’s mind. Large political contributors speak more loudly in our current system.
But that doesn’t let me off the hook. The call comes to each one of us, again reflected in the baptismal covenant, to seek and service Christ in all persons, to love neighbor as self, to work for justice and peace, to respect the dignity of every human being. In God’s economy, in the economy of the just ruler, there are no people who we can label as garbage. None.
So while we may not have the influence of kings or rulers or leaders, the values of the Jesus’ kingdom call for justice, for attention to those in greatest need. Those in need surround us, in our neighborhoods and around the world. We can’t just site the failures of our leaders. We are called to consider our own failures to work for justice and serve those in need. This Advent, as we prepare the way of the Lord, may we live into those values, even in small ways. What might you do this day, this week to work for justice and to respect the dignity of every human being? Like the psalmist, ask God to help you with that. And say a prayer that our leaders will do the same.
A postscript on the intersection of religion and politics: Since we just noted with thanksgiving the life and ministry and witness of Dorothy Day, consider her insight: If we rendered unto God all the things that belong to God, there would be nothing left for Caesar.
-Jay Sidebotham
Psalm 122
1 I was glad when they said to me, "Let us go to the house of the Lord."
2 Now our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem.
3 Jerusalem is built as a city that is at unity with itself;
4 To which the tribes go up, the tribes of the Lord, the assembly of Israel, to praise the Name of the Lord.
5 For there are the thrones of judgment, the thrones of the house of David.
6 Pray for the peace of Jerusalem: "May they prosper who love you.
7 Peace be within your walls and quietness within your towers.
8 For my brethren and companions' sake, I pray for your prosperity.
9 Because of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek to do you good."
(This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.)
The psalm heard yesterday in church begins with this refrain: I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of Lord.’ The whole psalm is a celebration of God’s presence, sensed specifically in the city of Jerusalem. The gladness is made all the more poignant given the troubled history of that thin place, repeatedly invaded, temple and walls repeatedly torn down, residents facing starvation or exile. All the more reason for celebration of peaceful times. (All the more reason to pray for the peace of Jerusalem these days.)
As the Jewish and Christian traditions expanded globally, Jerusalem came to represent not only that specific geographical location. It represented those places where God’s presence seems to shine through with clarity, strength and grace. Jerusalem came to symbolize sacred spaces, with the psalm’s reference to the house of the Lord. And the house of the Lord came to represent church, though these days thoughts of church are not always associated with gladness. Why do you think that is?
H.L. Mencken, snarky journalist from the early 20thcentury, said that a puritan is someone who is unhappy because someone somewhere is having a good time. That absence of joy is not true of expressions of Christianity everywhere. But it has become a feature of American Christendom for many. That absence contributes in many respects to the decline in recent decades in mainline congregations. Many people (sometimes referred to as the “nones” or the “dones”) have given up on the church, maybe because it is boring at best, because it is wounding at its worst.
I’m putting in a plug and looking forward to reading Stephanie Spellers’ new book Church Tomorrow?, which is just being launched this week. Stephanie, who served with Michael Curry, well understands the challenges facing the church and our world. Like Michael Curry, she embraces those challenges with joy and gladness. Her work in this new book explores the reasons why people, especially young people, are moving away from engagement with the church. Pollsters have identified all kinds of reasons for that shift: sexual and financial scandals, the kowtowing of the church to extreme political agenda, the fact that many people find church to be irrelevant, focused on questions no one is asking. For too many people, church is hardly ever associated with gladness.
If we are talking about gladness in the house of the Lord, we do need to focus on the fact that while we set aside sacred spaces, God’s presence is all around us. One of my current spiritual practices is to read and reread The Practice of the Presence of God, with wisdom from Brother Lawrence. Across the centuries, this short book radiates gladness through the story of this one man who said "it isn't necessary that we stay in church in order to remain in God's presence. We can make our hearts personal chapels where we can enter anytime to talk to God privately."
And at the end, the gladness that comes with entry into the house of the Lord comes to represent heaven. Cue the text of Hymn 620: Jerusalem, my happy home. (Last stanza: Jerusalem, Jerusalem, God grant that I may see thine endless joy and of the same partaker ever be.) But we don’t have to wait for that gladness. It can be our experience right now.
I’m struck with the way that we end the eucharist. In fact, the post-communion prayer and the dismissal may well be the most important parts of the liturgy (sorry, preachers, who labor hard to get every sermon word right). In the closing words of the post-communion prayer, we ask for strength and courage to love and serve God with gladness and singleness of heart. Gladness will come as we go in peace to love and serve the Lord.
This morning, we’re at the start of the season of Advent, which will culminate in songs like “Joy to the World.” May these four preparatory weeks provide occasion to think about where we find gladness. May we find it in the house of the Lord, however we experience the place where God dwells. May we find it in Jerusalem, our happy home, whatever the image of Jerusalem may mean to us.
-Jay Sidebotham
Psalm 46
1 God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth be moved, and though the mountains be toppled into the depths of the sea;
3 Though its waters rage and foam, and though the mountains tremble at its tumult.
4 The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.
5 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High.
6 God is in the midst of her; she shall not be overthrown; God shall help her at the break of day.
7 The nations make much ado, and the kingdoms are shaken; God has spoken, and the earth shall melt away.
8 The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.
9 Come now and look upon the works of the Lord, what awesome things he has done on earth.
10 It is he who makes war to cease in all the world; he breaks the bow, and shatters the spear, and burns the shields with fire.
11 "Be still, then, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth."
12 The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.
(This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.)
Where do you go for refuge? Where do you find strength these days? Those Monday morning questions lead directly to Psalm 46, which you may have heard in church yesterday.
Whenever I come across Psalm 46, it brings to mind my time serving in a parish in Manhattan, including that bright September day when the attacks of 9/11 took place. I suspect we all have some memory of where we were, how we heard and how the scope of that tragedy dawned on us. Whether you lived in lower Manhattan or on the other side of the globe, the events reverberated with deep personal impact.
The parish in which I served was located in midtown Manhattan. Over the autumn months, we hosted many memorial services. We had a service for two homeless men who collected recycling in the towers. A small service because no one knew how to contact any of their family members. We had SRO services for wealthy upper east siders. We had a candlelight service at the local fire station, which lost a dozen firefighters. We had services for a small Japanese company that lost 10 of 12 employees. And we had services for large corporations who also lost many employees. Those corporations came to us because of our hospitality to interfaith conversation. On our church staff, we had a rabbi who ran a continuing education program to encourage learning about various faith traditions. Included in that program were courses taught by a local imam.
Apparently, MBA programs had not prepared corporate leaders for planning memorial services. The executives came to us, asking for help, specifically for interfaith services, led not only by our clergy but also by this rabbi and this imam. We were careful to be as inclusive as we could be in our liturgy, honoring the many traditions that might be represented among the mourners. But I think in almost every service we offered, we included Psalm 46.
The psalm takes me back to that particular historical moment. But it has application in all kinds of situations. In each of our lives, there are moments of pain and loss that cause us to look for refuge. One rector I know echoes the wisdom of Buddhism and says: Suffering is the promise life always keeps. In those moments, which will come to us as sure as the sun rises, where do we look for strength? Where do we find refuge?
May I suggest Psalm 46.
In a relatively short psalm, the following phrase is repeated three times: The Lord of hosts is with us. The God of Jacob is our stronghold. It’s as if the psalmist is saying: Can you get it through your thick heads that we are not alone? Let me say it three times so you’re sure that we are not alone though earth be moved, though mountains topple and tremble, though waters rage, though kingdoms are shaken.
The tragedy visited on lower Manhattan almost 25 years ago is not an isolated event. Around the globe, since then, unspeakable events have occurred, many with none of the publicity afforded 9/11. Some are taking place right now in Gaza, in the Sudan, in Ukraine. In our own lives, unscripted, unimaginable events take place. In the face of those personal terrors, the psalmist offers this call: Be still and know that I am God.
If you’re in one of those moments now, hear the refrain of the psalmist. Carry it with you this day: The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. If you know someone in the midst of those moments, pray this psalm for them. And if occasion arises, pray this psalm with them. By grace, may we find strength and refuge.
-Jay Sidebotham
Canticle 9:
The First Song of Isaiah
Isaiah 12:2-6
Surely, it is God who saves me; I will trust in him and not be afraid.
For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defense, and he will be my Savior.
Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing from the springs of salvation.
And on that day you shall say, Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his Name;
Make his deeds known among the peoples; see that they remember that his Name is exalted.
Sing the praises of the Lord, for he has done great things, and this is known in all the world.
Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy, for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.
(This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.)
I don't know what the future may hold but I know who holds the future. -Ralph Abernathy, Civil Rights Activist
Every night, before the lights go out, I read an entry from Howard Thurman’s book “Meditations of the Heart.” Once I come to the end of the book, I return to the beginning and start over again. I’ve made it through the book a number of times. Because I’m increasingly forgetful, passages often strike me as if I'm reading them for the first time. Others have made unforgettable impression, and I’m glad every time I get to revisit them. An example is a meditation he offers on the theme of trust. He offers this prayer:
Teach me, O God, the simple lesson of trust. Bring into my sorely pressed spirit the sure confidence of birds floating in the sky with nothing to support them but the automatic trust of wings, or the sure confidence of fish that keeps them from drowning with nothing to save but the automatic trust of their gills. Teach me to trust, to work for the renewal of my strength, all without pressure, without paying hostage to my anxieties.
Teach me to trust. I’ve got a lot to learn. Trust is at the heart of the canticle you may have heard in church on Sunday. It’s appointed by the lectionary, reprinted in this email, and comes not from the psalms but from the book of the prophet Isaiah.
This canticle, as you can see, is called the First Song of Isaiah. It’s fitting that it has been set to music which makes it all the more memorable. If you want help reflecting on it musically, you can find this canticle in our hymnal (#679). Or you can look up Jack Noble White’s version, easily found on YouTube. I recently became acquainted with a version composed by Paul Zach, simply entitled Surely. If it’s the case that the person who sings prays twice, these musical settings are a way to call ourselves back to trust. That’s especially important when it seems like we’re sinking, or when we feel uncertain or fearful about what the future holds, when our heart aches for ourselves and others.
Another great way to tap into trust is to reflect on the stories in the Bible where people exhibited exemplary trust. Abraham leaving a comfortable life to answer God’s call to go to a land, leaving not knowing where he was going. Isaiah declaring trust as invasion and exile of his nation is just about to happen. Peter seeing Jesus walking on the water on a stormy night and stepping over the gunwales of the boat to join Jesus. Jesus setting his face to Jerusalem, going through the dead end of Good Friday, saying to the one he called Father “Into your hands I commend my spirit,” only to meet sunrise on Easter.
The challenge before us, perhaps particularly acute this week for you, is how to live with the confidence Howard Thurman describes. In an uncertain world, how can we affirm that surely it is God who saves us. As Peter started strolling on the water, but then panicked as he saw the waves, so our trust may come and go. So like Peter, we reach out a hand to the one who offers strength. That exercise of trust is a profound spiritual practice, meaning that we put it into action in our lives. It also means that the more we do it, the more we are able to live with that confidence. Let this canticle, spoken or offered musically, help you this week in that practice.
Churches considering RenewalWorks often wonder how the initiative gets integrated into the larger church community upon completion of the formal process. This week we again consider this question with comments from Larry Haas, Senior Warden at Christ Episcopal Church in Glendale OH. Larry reflects on how his church views RenewalWorks as a beginning. Christ Church participated in RenewalWorks in May 2025.
Christ Church Glendale recently participated in the Renewal Works spiritual inventory process. We heard about it from the Rev. Scott Gunn, Executive Director of Forward Movement and a priest at our church. I was surprised and very pleased that it was not what I was expecting.
I am Larry Haas, Sr. Warden, and when I heard about Renewal Works, I was immediately thinking about the data. An inventory of data – oh my, spreadsheets and graphs and unlimited cross-sections of data! That certainly appealed to me since my career was in high performance computing. But another part of me is deeply interested in spirituality. I have been a lifelong student of Christianity and am continually learning how to engage my faith life with everything else in my life. This was the big surprise of Renewal Works. The data was subordinate to the conversation about spiritual growth. Each of the four workshops touched on the data, but only to provide context for where we were, both individually and as a faith community on the spiritual growth continuum. And furthermore, it wasn’t so much about new programs and devices to grow but rather conversation about how to become what we say we believe.
I think it is fair to say that it is challenging for most churches to embark in a new direction without a solid plan in place and a final product to coalesce the parish around. But that is the beauty and challenge of Renewal Works. It isn’t about a product at the end; rather it is about reviving a culture within our parish that permits spirituality to permeate everything we do. Done well, it infuses the existing programs and gatherings with the one thing that separates faith-based organizations from other non-profit organizations; the opportunity to connect what we do with how it shapes our faith in God and our understanding of what it means to follow Jesus. Now that is not new or revolutionary but how many times do we come together and “do the thing” without a moment of conscious acknowledgement of God and what he is doing or has done? Just taking a moment to ask the questions, “where did you see God in this ministry or the program or this project?” Or a moment at the beginning of a meeting or gathering to set it up with a verse of scripture and a prayer to help us remember why we are “doing the thing”.
Here is an example to further illustrate the desire to finish a project and check the box – complete. At the end of our workshops, we developed a report to the Vestry about this process and our recommendations. Near the end of the report, we had a series of thoughts about how we could begin to insert some of these learnings into the everyday activities at our parish. Since it was the end of the document, it felt unfinished, and we wondered if we should leave that section out. I think that is a poignant result of our experience. It isn’t a survey followed by four workshops and culminating in a report to the Vestry. Rather it is a beginning; to recognize how we can challenge ourselves and each other to be cognizant of God’s work among us and how to become better followers of Jesus. We intentionally left that section in the report and told the Vestry the work is unfinished.
Our Vestry has embraced this experience, and our Stewardship Commission used some of the new language of spiritual growth in their appeal for our annual canvas. Our next step is to offer a workshop to small gatherings of our parish. We are hopeful that there will be enough of our experience embedded in these gatherings to capture the imagination of our members so that we can embrace our spiritual journey together, intentionally, even as we are “doing the thing”.
Psalm 17:1-9
1 Hear my plea of innocence, O Lord; give heed to my cry; listen to my prayer, which does not come from lying lips.
2 Let my vindication come forth from your presence; let your eyes be fixed on justice.
3 Weigh my heart, summon me by night, melt me down; you will find no impurity in me.
4 I give no offense with my mouth as others do; I have heeded the words of your lips.
5 My footsteps hold fast to the ways of your law; in your paths my feet shall not stumble.
6 I call upon you, O God, for you will answer me; incline your ear to me and hear my words.
7 Show me your marvelous loving-kindness, O Savior of those who take refuge at your right hand from those who rise up against them.
8 Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me under the shadow of your wings,
9 From the wicked who assault me, from my deadly enemies who surround me.
(This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.)
A while ago, my adorably, occasionally snarky sister gave me this bumper sticker: Jesus loves you, but I’m his favorite. I’m pretty sure she was kidding. I didn’t put it on my car. But the bumper sticker came to mind when I read the psalm you may have heard in church yesterday (reprinted in this email). The psalmist prays to be kept as the apple of God’s eye. That phrase appears a few times in scripture, and over the years has popped up outside of scripture. It has come to mean that someone is especially favored. It got me wondering if God has favorites.
The notion of God’s favorites can get messy. When I was a kid, I walked with my best friend to elementary school. He was raised in a devout Roman Catholic family. I was raised in a devout conservative evangelical family. He would always make the sign of the cross when we passed by his church, so that got us talking about religion. We really liked each other, but even at that young age, we were sure that our take on the affections of the Holy One tilted in our favor. Along with that came the notion that the other was wrong, at peril to their eternal destiny.
From an early age, it was clearly a zero sum game. If my spiritual community is the apple of God’s eye, then yours can’t be. If I win, you lose. That game can get messy not only among young friends, but within a family, within a church, between denominations, in interfaith discussion, in politics as it mixes with religion. It’s a game that has led to religious wars. I’m wondering where you’ve seen that game in action.
So does “the apple of God’s eye” suggest election? How does it relate to the notion of being a chosen people? We’re getting into risky territory because election and chosenness carry the implication that others are not chosen. Others are not God’s favorites. My guess is that when it comes to thinking about who God favors, maybe we’re just thinking too small (as in J.B.Phillip’s classic, Your God Is Too Small). The text of Hymn 469/470 (first line: There’s a wideness in God’s mercy) has come to mind. There’s that one intriguing and mystical stanza: For the love of God is broader than the measure of the mind. And the heart of the eternal is most wonderfully kind.
That means that it’s not a zero sum game. We’re not dealing with a scarce, limited amount of favor. There’s enough for everyone. There’s enough.
So what then does the notion of holy favor mean? I’m thinking of the Nunc Dimittis, a canticle sung in Evensong, which talks about people chosen for a purpose: to be a light to the nations. To the extent any of us are chosen, or elected, it is a matter of being chosen to be of service. Jesus called for that as he talked to those he chose to be his disciples. He said: Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify God in heaven. Here’s where I land: Perhaps with human affection, having a favorite diminishes someone else. In the divine economy, there is more than enough love to go around. Enough to share.
Thinking a bit more about how God regards us, I’m remembering a story from one of Brennan Manning’s books, which are all about grace and the love of God. Couldn’t find the story to quote exactly, so relying on my failing memory. The gist is that someone asked a mother of about a dozen children if she had a favorite. The mother said “Oh, yes.” And she started by naming one child who was facing an illness. That child in need was her favorite. But then she mentioned the child having trouble in school. That one was her favorite. Then there was a child whose heart had been broken in a relationship. That was really her favorite. She went through all of her twelve children. Each in his or her own way was a favorite. Brennan Manning recounted it with more style, but you get the idea. I’m suspecting, I'm hoping, I'm trusting that the God we worship, a God of compassion, views us all the same way.
When theologians speak about God’s preferential option for the poor, maybe it’s a reflection of that mother’s regard for her many children. The psalms are filled with details of the ways that God especially cares for the poor, the widow, the orphan, the stranger, casting down the mighty, to quote the Magnificat. If that is the way God regards us, perhaps we should do the same toward each other.
The good news: Each one of us can read this psalm and hear God speaking to the core of our being: We are kept as the apple of God's eye. If we can embrace that amazing grace, how does that change the way we approach this week? Then, on the basis of that gift, as the apple of God’s eye, how can we exhibit the fruits of the spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. What will that look like this week?
- Jay Sidebotham
Psalm 32:1-8
1 Happy are they whose transgressions are forgiven, and whose sin is put away!
2 Happy are they to whom the Lord imputes no guilt, and in whose spirit there is no guile!
3 While I held my tongue, my bones withered away, because of my groaning all day long.
4 For your hand was heavy upon me day and night; my moisture was dried up as in the heat of summer.
5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not conceal my guilt.
6 I said," I will confess my transgressions to the Lord." Then you forgave me the guilt of my sin.
7 Therefore all the faithful will make their prayers to you in time of trouble; when the great waters overflow, they shall not reach them.
8 You are my hiding-place; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance.
(This year, Monday Matters will focus on wisdom conveyed in the treasures of the book of Psalms. We'll look at the psalms read in church before Monday Matters comes to your screen. Please note that these days in the church, there are two tracks of readings in the lectionary, offering a choice of psalms. Your church may or may not have read the psalm included in this email.)
Desmond Tutu reflected on his leadership in South Africa in a book entitled: No Future Without Forgiveness. As apartheid was dismantled in his country, as the nation embarked on a new chapter, Tutu recognized that the future would only come as forgiveness was extended, facilitated through a Truth and Reconciliation Commission. He was in sync with Nelson Mandela, who upon release from prison after almost three decades, immediately forgave his captors. Mandela said that if he didn’t forgive them, they still had him in prison. The future that forgiveness brings is multi-faceted. It is not only a matter of forgiving those who have done us wrong. We all have those people in our lives. It is also a matter of accepting forgiveness extended to us, forgiveness that comes from God and from others. Maybe it’s also a matter of forgiving ourselves.
As Anne Lamott says: Earth is forgiveness school. The wisdom of the connection between forgiveness and a future is reflected in one of the psalms which the lectionary suggested for reading yesterday. That psalm (reprinted in this email) describes the progression that came in the spiritual life of the author. The psalmist admits that he was stuck. He was holding his tongue, presumably refusing to express to God or others the ways that he had fallen short. Once he had acknowledged his own guilt, he was able to move forward. As long as he held onto the guilt or shame that he knew to be the truth of his story, he was not free to live into God’s saving grace.
Maybe that’s why so many of our liturgies include a confession, often from the very start. There’s something freeing about acknowledging the ways we mess up. As Jesus said: The truth shall set you free. And yet, we spend a lot of our time failing to admit those shortcomings. While we may be quick to judge others mercilessly, we make all kinds of excuses for our own failures. We imagine that in a manufactured image of ourselves, we’ll find new life. It’s hard to keep up that image. It can be so very tiring.
In her new book, Strong Ground, Brene Brown talks about key themes for leaders. I share those thoughts with Monday morning readers because I suspect many serve in leadership roles, in churches or businesses or volunteer efforts or in families. Dr. Brown notes that in our culture, vulnerability is seen as weakness. “We seem not able to accept that vulnerability – the ability to recognize and regulate the emotions we experience during times of uncertainty, risk and emotional exposure – is the source code of courage.” As I read that, and thought about Psalm 32, I added the acknowledgement of our own fallen nature as a piece of this life-giving, courageous vulnerability. In confession, the psalmist makes himself vulnerable to the Holy One. In confession, we do the same. When that happens, we can be free to step into the future.
This applies to each one of us in our spiritual journey for sure. As we have just observed All Saints Day and All Souls Day, we recognize we are saints and sinners at the same time. I think of a favorite saint, St. Teresa of Avila, who acknowledged in a moment of vulnerability: O God, I do not love you. I do not want to love you. But I want to want to love you. I love the Christmas message from Dorothy Day: I’m so glad Jesus was born in a stable. Because my soul is so much like a stable. It’s poor and in unsatisfactory condition – yet I believe that if Jesus can be born in a stable, maybe he can also be born in me.
This dynamic probably also applies to the institutional church, as over the history of the church, there has been a sell out, a servitude to the values of the culture. The future of the church calls for us to recognize that. It’s why the work of Sacred Ground coming out of the Episcopal Church Center, has been so transformative.
It applies to our nation, especially in this time of division, as some leaders seek to wipe out acknowledgement of our own history of enslavement and genocide of indigenous people. Until we acknowledge that history instead of trying to erase it, we may not be able to move out of the racial divide that persists. That kind of acknowledgement may well be the most patriotic thing we can do to express love of nation.
Take this psalm, take this week to think about ways you are holding back from acknowledging the ways you have fallen short. Find the freedom that comes with acknowledgement. The truth shall set you free.
- Jay Sidebotham
