Psalm 29
1 Ascribe to the Lord, you gods, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.
2 Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his Name; worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.
3 The voice of the Lord is upon the waters; the God of glory thunders; the Lord is upon the mighty waters.
4 The voice of the Lord is a powerful voice; the voice of the Lord is a voice of splendor.
5 The voice of the Lord breaks the cedar trees; the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon;
6 He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Mount Hermon like a young wild ox.
7 The voice of the Lord splits the flames of fire; the voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness; the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.
8 The voice of the Lord makes the oak trees writhe and strips the forests bare.
9 And in the temple of the Lord, all are crying, "Glory!"
10 The Lord sits enthroned above the flood; the Lord sits enthroned as King for evermore.
11 The Lord shall give strength to his people; the Lord shall give his people the blessing of peace.
(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.)
he psalm reprinted in this email, a psalm in the lectionary line-up for yesterday, seems focused on the voice of the Lord, so let’s think this Monday morning about that voice. How have you heard it?
The way the psalm presents it, on first reading, I imagined the voice of the Lord as similar to the voice of the Wizard of Oz. Booming and knee-quakingly terrifying. No doubt about it, there is great power in the voice of the Lord, as all of creation came into being through the spoken word of the Holy One. But think with me about some of the other places in scripture where the voice of the Lord is heard.
In the midst of his daily, and I assume mind-numbingly boring job as wilderness shepherd, the voice of the Lord came to Moses through a bush that burned but was not consumed. Lesson here: the voice of the Lord meets us right where we are.
In the cave where he fled because Jezebel, the queen of mean, was out to kill him, Elijah heard the voice of the Lord. That voice was not in fire or earthquake or storm. It was in a still small voice, or as one translation puts it, in the sound of sheer silence. Imagine what that was like. Lesson here: the voice of the Lord often comes when we simply try to be still.
Yesterday in church, we read about another occasion when the voice of the Lord was heard. As Jesus emerges from Jordan waters, whether he was dunked like a Southern Baptist or discreetly sprinkled like an Episcopalian, a voice from heaven spoke, with a message of grace: This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased. The voice that begins the season of Epiphany is heard again on the last Sunday of the season, when atop the Mount of Transfiguration, the voice from heaven again declares the belovedness of Jesus.
Do you see what’s happening here? The voice of the Lord indeed has awesome transformative power but it need not be seen as a voice that causes fear. It’s a voice that meets us where we are, often heard in a moment of quiet peace, with a message of belovedness.
If you want a good project for Epiphany, read a book by Henri Nouwen called Life of the Beloved. (It's mercifully succinct, i.e., short.) He explains the Christian faith to someone outside of the faith. He bases his presentation on the voice heard when Jesus was baptised. Nouwen asserts that the voice heard by Jesus is a voice we can hear addressed to us as well. He writes to this friend:
“All I want to say to you is “You are the Beloved,” and all I hope is that you can hear these words as spoken to you with all the tenderness and force that love can hold. My only desire is to make these words reverberate in every corner of your being – “You are the Beloved.” The greatest gift my friendship can give to you is the gift of your Belovedness.’
The psalm tell us that there is transformative power in the voice of the Lord. It’s hard to imagine a more transformative force in our lives than the news that the God of creation regards each one of us as beloved. The God whose character is love shines that love on us in a powerful way that can free us from fear. It shines that love on us in a way that we can share it, letting our life be guided by the goal of loving God with all our being, and loving neighbor as self.
In a world where voices of hate aspire to be a winning political strategy, Christians are called to listen for a different voice. Ask God to let you hear that voice this week in some new and transformative way.
-Jay Sidebotham
Robert Hendrickson joined Forward Movement in fall 2025 as Chief of Discipleship after nine years as Rector of St. Philip’s in the Hills in Tucson, AZ. Enabled by a grant from the J.C. Flowers Foundation, Robert and team will focus on transformational discipleship resources to help Episcopalians grow as followers of Jesus. RenewalWorks will be a part of those resources.
In our work with churches, RenewalWorks finds that it can be hard to define what discipleship means and even harder to live it in our everyday lives. We are honored to share Robert’s recent reflection on that subject below and look forward to continuing that conversation with you in 2026.
I was talking with my son recently and we were talking about why I worry about AI and social media and every other thing that seems to be breaking our brains. I told him that it’s not that I didn’t trust him with these things but that I didn’t trust these things with him.
And I don’t trust them with all of us.
Discipleship is giving ourselves to Christ. Full stop. It is making a way for Christ to guide one step after the other in our journey. I trust Him with myself. I trust Him with my son. I trust Christ. That’s only the first step to being a disciple though. The next is reaching a place where we trust ourselves to follow.
In that conversation about social media and AI I told my son something I’ve not told many people. I said, “I spent a lot of my young life thinking about dying. About how to kill myself.” That voice is quiet now, but it wasn’t when I was younger. It’s a voice I could never trust but have learned to tell to be still.
My worry is that all the impersonal forces that dominate our days will bend the old, personal voices that are a part of each of us, toward shortening and darkening those same days. It’s kind of what they are built for. They are built to spend us for profit.
As happens in moments like that there was a long quiet. Then my son asked why. So, I tried to be honest. I’m probably more honest with other people than I am with myself which is often the case in our lives. I said, “When my mother died and my sister died my love had nowhere to go.” It’s not an original thought but one that has stayed with me.
But it found somewhere to go. It found the One who wept at the grave of Lazarus. It found the One who asked why His Father had forsaken Him. It found One who was Love’s source. It found One in whom I could put my trust again.
So, I decided to try and be a disciple. Whatever that meant and however bad at it I’ve been, my will took a turn and so did my life. We’re putting our trust in lots of places now. We’re trusting our lives and our kids and our country to a lot of faceless, nameless forces who profit from the trust.
But the place where we might yet find hope has a name and a face and it is Christ the Lord.
I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about dying now. I spend my time thinking about how to live. It’s the thing I want to pass on to my sons. Where can they put their hope. Where can they put their trust. That’s the first step. The next step is where discipleship really begins. How will we follow the trust. How will we follow the hope.
How will we live.
The promised light of Advent is showing the way to the Center where that purpose will be found. It is taking us along the disciple’s way. Will we dare to follow to the place, to the One, where true hope is yet to be found.
That will be our journey of discipleship. One step after another. Listening as His voice calms the storms and the voices of our past and opens a future we cannot imagine and for which we’ve never dared to ask.
That voice is hope and it’s how we will live.
Psalm 84
1 How dear to me is your dwelling, O Lord of hosts! My soul has a desire and longing for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.
2 The sparrow has found her a house and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young; by the side of your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.
3 Happy are they who dwell in your house! they will always be praising you.
4 Happy are the people whose strength is in you! whose hearts are set on the pilgrims' way.
5 Those who go through the desolate valley will find it a place of springs, for the early rains have covered it with pools of water.
6 They will climb from height to height, and the God of gods will reveal himself in Zion.
7 Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; hearken, O God of Jacob.
8 Behold our defender, O God; and look upon the face of your Anointed.
9 For one day in your courts is better than a thousand in my own room, and to stand at the threshold of the house of my God than to dwell in the tents of the wicked.
10 For the Lord God is both sun and shield; he will give grace and glory;
11 No good thing will the Lord withhold from those who walk with integrity.
12 O Lord of hosts, happy are they who put their trust in you!
(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.)
And now for something completely different: The psalm heard in church yesterday (reprinted in this email) always catches my eye for the use of the word "pilgrim." (v. 4) Among the most important pilgrims in scripture are the wise men, who we celebrate tomorrow on the Feast of the Epiphany. Herewith, therefore, a bit of doggerel I composed for a sermon marking that feast, with apologies to all serious poets.
Searching for Joy
If I could meet the magi,
The question on my mind:
What made them take that road trip?
What did they hope to find?
Assume their lives were comfortable.
It paid well to be wise.
They spent their days at camel chase.
At night they scanned the skies.
They knew the stars like back of hand.
They’d studied well and hard.
Advanced degreed astrology,
In school they got gold stars
Another way to ask it:
What was it they were lacking?
Was there some royal restlessness
That sent them westward packing?
One eastern night when moon was hid
And stars were shining bright,
They wisely cast a glance above
And spied a different light.
Next night the same, but brighter
Where did that star come from?
How could they have been missing it?
And had it been there long?
Mounting camels, off they went
Following that light.
No need to look to GPS.
The star would steer them right.
I’m sure you’ve heard the gender jokes
How men can’t ask directions.
Not so for these astrologers:
They made a course correction.
By calling on a colleague.
King Herod, deemed much wiser.
They asked if he would point the way.
He called in his advisers.
Who searched the scripture for a text
To pass along to them
They told the Magi where to go
“Head straight for Bethlehem”
We each are like the magi.
I wonder if you know it.
(Though you may think it less than wise
for priest to pose as poet)
Our lives become predictable.
We live out our routines.
But then a light makes us look up
And restlessness creeps in.
We realize then we’re seekers
For things that fill the bill.
Will money make us happier?
Relationships fulfill?
We sometimes shop at Herod’s
(the king, and not the store)
To see if power fills that place.
We’re always after more.
If we could just work harder.
The next promotion reach.
If we could just act better.
And practice what we preach.
We each are on a journey
To find joy in our lives.
In many ways, we try to fill
The gaps that life supplies
What are you seeking in your life?
Is search for joy your quest?
Have you a clue where it is found?
Or where it’s best expressed?
A search for joy can lose its way
When clouds obscure the star.
And pain of life can hide the light
And then we don’t get far.
Our search for joy can get bogged down
Get gridlocked spiritually
Our lives get in a traffic jam
There’s no green light to see.
We focus on what others have.
But what we fail to do
Is seek for joy by looking up
By looking for what’s new.
What’s new is represented
In Bethlehem’s young boy.
That’s where we find an answer
If we’re really seeking joy.
Like those kings who made that trip
And left their status quoing.
There’s new life to be found by all
If we will start let going.
Let go. Let God. Our travel tip.
Let star become the guide.
And know that when we take a step
We go with God beside.
We each are on a journey
Our guide? The Holy Spirit.
It sometimes is a bumpy road.
It’s sometimes hard to steer it.
But the journey is a gift itself
When made by me and you.
When traveling with other folks
We come on something new.
A life we’d not expected.
Grace that helps us cope.
A light that shines in darkness.
Amid the cold night: Hope.
Community in loneliness.
A place to bring our gifts.
A common spirit traveling.
A star that spirits lifts.
It’s possible to travel far
And never leave your place.
A journey of the spirit
Starts with a step toward grace.
The biggest trek can be one step
Of welcoming God’s love.
Of worshipping with eyes raised up
That is the way we move.
Our nation needs some magi
Needs wise folk seeking love
Who look beyond the glitter
To see a star above.
So let’s head back 2000 years
To what these magi teach us.
Across the miles, across the years
Their witnesses still reach us.
We find the magi traveling.
The Exit: Bethlehem
They’re slouching in their camel seats.
The next step’s up to them.
They’ve traveled far. They’re tired.
They’ve quarreled just a bit.
Go right. Go left. Head north. Head south.
But it was worth the trip.
For when they met the infant king
Entitlement surrendered.
They offered gold, incense and myrrh
The best they had to tender.
The star they followed led them
To child they now adore
The one they flood with presents
Has given them back more.
It all made sense, so quickly clear
The reason for those miles
The search for joy now ended
With holy family smiles.
It all made sense in worship
They found it filled their needs
And when we worship Christ child king
Our search for joy succeeds.
This ending a beginning
Move ahead they must
They headed home another way
Left Herod in the dust.
Their story teaches lessons still
Through years more than 2k
It teaches us to move ahead
Go home another way.
Go forward from the place you offered
Gift on bended knee.
Go forward to the journey next
Based on Epiphany
Go forward based on glimpse of light
That guides when dark surrounds.
Go forward on your journey.
There is more joy to be found.
-Jay Sidebotham
