Renewal Works

Psalm 80:7-14

7 Restore us, O God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.
8 You have brought a vine out of Egypt; you cast out the nations and planted it.
9 You prepared the ground for it; it took root and filled the land.
10 The mountains were covered by its shadow and the towering cedar trees by its boughs.
11 You stretched out its tendrils to the Sea and its branches to the River.
12 Why have you broken down its wall, so that all who pass by pluck off its grapes?
13 The wild boar of the forest has ravaged it, and the beasts of the field have grazed upon it.
14 Turn now, O God of hosts, look down from heaven; behold and tend this vine; preserve what your right hand has planted.

This year, Monday Matters is focused 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.

Restore us

But Jesus said, Suffer the little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.
-Matthew 19:14 (King James Version)

In my current stage of life, it’s a joy and privilege to have time with grandchildren. They keep me on my toes. We babysat a three year old this past weekend, which was so fun. She’s a delight and I look forward to watching her grow up. As we carried out our babysitting duties, I couldn’t help but think about another three year old featured in recent news.

He was one of the many children as young as two years old being brought before immigration courts nationwide, many without attorneys, to make their case to stay in the United States and avoid deportation. (It's a practice not limited to current administrations.) A three year old child, with no attorney by his side, was examined about impending deportation. Three years old. What is up with a judge who would preside at such a hearing? How did we get to this moment in our common life?

Other folks at other times have been forced to pose such questions. They come up in many places in the scripture. The children of Israel ask: Can God set a table in the wilderness? Jesus on the cross asks if God had forsaken him. And then there is the psalm you may have heard in church yesterday, reprinted above. The psalmist speaks on behalf of the nation, which he compares to a vineyard that has been planted by God but now seems abandoned to predators. The psalmist speaks to the Lord and asks: Why have you broken down the walls of the vineyard, leaving it open to those with destructive instinct? In other words, the psalmist asks: Where did you go, God? We only read a portion of the psalm in church, but the entire psalm repeats this prayer: Restore us, O Lord of hosts. Show the light of your countenance and we shall be saved.

As I think about toddlers before an immigration judge, or children targeted last week at a school in Kyiv, or young students killed in the opening salvos of the war with Iran, I wonder what we have become. How did we get here? I’m mindful of the insight of Cory Booker, who said of one egregious policy move: This is not a matter of right or left. This is a matter of right or wrong. I am inclined to ask with the psalmist this question of the God of love: Why have you broken down the walls?

How did we get here? The fact is, here we are and what do we do about it as people of faith, as followers of Jesus? It may well be that as Christ’s hands and feet in this moment, we are called to do what we can to set things right.

So perhaps we begin by admitting that it is wrong for toddlers to face an immigration judge all alone. That’s beyond debate, just as it is wrong to separate families or put children in cages or send migrants to countries with which they have no connection. (Regrettably, the list goes on.)

Second, we do what we can (pray, vote, donate, write letters, talk to friends) to move toward a more perfect union as we admit those things that are simply wrong and as we seek to join with leaders who will strive for justice and peace.

Third, we recognize our complicity in systems that tolerate or ignore injustice. The Litany of Penitence read on Ash Wednesday asks us to repent for our blindness to human need and suffering, and our indifference to injustice and cruelty (Book of Common Prayer, p.268). I suspect each one of us has some work to do in this regard.

Fourth, we see that not only on the national scene, but also in our personal lives, we may feel that the walls of our vineyard have been broken down. So we do what the psalmist is doing. We pray, repeating a prayer for restoration. We keep the faith. In the face of indefensible injustice and inexplicable tragedy, we withstand when we can’t understand. We proclaim when we can’t explain. We proclaim the good news of God in Christ, hoping against hope that God is faithful. That God is compassionate. That God will restore us. That God hears the cry of those who have no one to advocate for them.

Like that three year old alone at that table in that courtroom.

-Jay Sidebotham

Now in our 14^th year, RenewalWorks welcomes many churches back to re-do the process. (In the Fall 2026 cohort we have a church in the Diocese of Spokane who is completing RenewalWorks for the fourth time!) Rev. Tom Warren at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church in Kinston, NC, recently redid RenewalWorks with his parish and he penned the below on that experience.

In 2026, St. Mary’s once again took part in RenewalWorks, returning to a process that had been meaningful for our church when we first used it in 2014. After twelve years of ministry that included a transition in Rector leadership, a pandemic, and a capital campaign it seemed to be a good time to check back in on the spiritual vitality of our community with this valuable resource!

Our first RenewalWorks experience led to a greater emphasis on direct engagement with Scripture in our common life. Looking back, it became an important milestone in our parish history, helping draw our focus, priorities, and ministries more intentionally toward the Bible at the heart of the Christian faith.

More than a decade later, we were curious to see how a new RenewalWorks experience would compare to our first one. We also hoped it would help us discern and re-calibrate our missional focus for the season of ministry ahead.

We found that the gift of RenewalWorks is not simply survey results or identifying a list of new initiatives, worthwhile as those may be. Its deeper value is in the process itself. RenewalWorks guided Vestry members, ministry leaders, parishioners, and clergy into a shared conversation about spiritual vitality itself, as well as discernment of God’s call to us in this time. It invited us to look honestly at our shared life: beginning with the individual as we considered our own spiritual lives in the questionnaire, but then continuing with the experience of leaders considering the survey results as tools for discerning a vision for a future season of ministry together.

Over and over again, the concept of discipleship surfaced in conversation. As we explored the ways that we worship, study, fellowship, serve, engage in pastoral care, share meals, set to work at meetings, and partner in the community, we kept coming back to the same underlying question: How does this help form and equip disciples of Jesus? RenewalWorks encouraged us to move beyond asking only, “What programs should we offer?” but also “How are we helping people grow as followers of Christ?”

With the RenewalWorks report as an input in its discernment process, the Vestry at St. Mary’s has recently identified some priorities to move to the ‘front-burner’ of our common lives in the years to come. Some new initiatives are emerging, but just as important is the renewed attention to the spiritual purpose that undergirds all of our ministries, even familiar ones. What a gift RenewalWorks is to the church, and has been to the people of St. Mary’s once again!

Psalm 145:1-8

1 I will exalt you, O God my King, and bless your Name for ever and ever.
2 Every day will I bless you and praise your Name for ever and ever.
3 Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised; there is no end to his greatness.
4 One generation shall praise your works to another and shall declare your power.
5 I will ponder the glorious splendor of your majesty and all your marvelous works.
6 They shall speak of the might of your wondrous acts, and I will tell of your greatness.
7 They shall publish the remembrance of your great goodness; they shall sing of your righteous deeds.
8 The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger and of great kindness.

This year, Monday Matters is focused 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.

Give it away

For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. Matthew 16:25

The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away. -Pablo Picasso

It seems like we’re in a phase when some of the all time great creative artists of our day are moving on to “another shore.” Dolly Parton. Wendell Berry. Gloria Steinem. Peter Max. This past week, Annie Dillard, brilliant writer who paid artful attention to the simplest things, died at the age of 81. In her honor, herewith one of my favorite quotes about writing:

One of the things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. Similarly, the impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.

A person of faith, a gentle observer of the foibles of the church, it may be that what Ms. Dillard wrote about writing can be true of our lives as followers of Jesus. I know it’s been said that it is not polite to speak about politics and religion (perhaps especially among Episcopalians who believe in salvation by good taste). Balance that with the baptismal promise that says we are all called to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ.

In reflection on that commitment, Episcopalians, ever reticent about tasteless evangelism, will often cite St. Francis. He apparently said: “Preach the gospel at all times. If necessary use words.” Of course, that insight is loaded with wisdom. It’s the wisdom of Mahatma Gandhi, who refused conversion to Christianity because he saw the injustice meted out by the church in South Africa. He said: “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ. If it weren't for Christians, I'd be a Christian.” Example matters. But it doesn’t let us off the hook for sharing in words, in some way, what we understand to be the good news. (And Lord knows, we could all use some good news.)

Whatever we know of the good news of God in Christ we are meant to proclaim. To share. Again, I wonder if Ms. Dillard’s caution applies when she said that the impulse to “keep to ourselves what we have learned is not only shameful. It is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes.”

All of this has been prompted for me by a psalm you may have heard in church yesterday, reprinted above. The psalmist cites the many ways to share good news. I will bless your name for ever. I will praise your Name for ever. One generation shall praise your works and declare your power. I will speak of the might of your wondrous acts. I will tell of your greatness. I will publish the remembrance of your goodness. I will sing of your righteous deeds.

So how do we do that? A few suggestions:

Begin by sitting down and thinking about what you think might be the good news of God in Jesus Christ. Maybe jot down some thoughts in a journal. Is it forgiveness? Community? Commitment to social justice? Faith? Hope? Love? We too often equate our faith with rules and observance, which sometimes brings little joy. What gives you joy about your own spiritual life? Be ready to share that joy.

Be alert to opportunities that the Holy Spirit provides to talk about your faith. In conversation with others, maybe begin by listening. If in the course of listening, someone shares a struggle, a challenge, an area of brokenness, ask how you might pray for that person. If someone says to you: “Have a blessed day,” follow up on that with your own blessing.

Speak of what you have experienced. My youth group in Chicago taught me about “God-sightings.” At the end of the day, reflect on where you saw God at work in the world. Feel free to share that with other people. It’s hard to argue with what you’ve witnessed.

In fulfillment of the baptismal promise, let word and example work together. You may serve in a soup kitchen, or on a church committee or non-profit board, or donate money to folks in need. If someone asks you why you do that, be ready to say that it’s a Jesus thing. If perchance, you commit a random act of kindness, and someone asks why you did that, use it as an opportunity to speak about being a follower of Jesus.

Finally, in whatever way you pray, ask God the Holy Spirit to give opportunity to talk with others about the life of the spirit. It’s a good thing to give to others. It’s a good thing to do for our own spiritual health.

As the psalmist indicates, we all need to share good news. Because we all need to hear it.

-Jay Sidebotham

Psalm 103:1-13

1 Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy Name.
2 Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.
3 He forgives all your sins and heals all your infirmities;
4 He redeems your life from the grave and crowns you with mercy and loving-kindness;
5 He satisfies you with good things, and your youth is renewed like an eagle's.
6 The Lord executes righteousness and judgment for all who are oppressed.
7 He made his ways known to Moses and his works to the children of Israel.
8 The Lord is full of compassion and mercy, slow to anger and of great kindness.
9 He will not always accuse us, nor will he keep his anger for ever.
10 He has not dealt with us according to our sins, nor rewarded us according to our wickedness.
11 For as the heavens are high above the earth, so is his mercy great upon those who fear him.
12 As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us.
13 As a father cares for his children, so does the Lord care for those who fear him.

This year, Monday Matters is focused 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.

The quality of mercy

The quality of mercy is not strained; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'T is mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes the throned monarch better than his crown

-William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, Act IV.

If you heard Psalm 103 yesterday in church (a portion of which is reprinted above), you may have noticed that the word “mercy” pops up several times. It fits well with the parable Jesus told about what it means to show mercy, also heard in church yesterday. To review that parable, a king shows mercy to someone who owes the king a whole chunk of change. The king forgives the debt. The man who received royal mercy leaves the king and runs into someone who owes him a relatively small amount of money. No mercy is shown to this lesser debtor. The king gets wind of all this, and in the end it doesn’t go well for the one who refused to show mercy, especially since abundant mercy had been shown to him.

Think with me about the word mercy and how we use it. In the liturgy, we often say “Lord have mercy,” or we ask “Lord in your mercy hear my prayer.” Outside of the church, if we say “Lord have mercy,” it means we’re in a jam. This kind of mercy implies relationship with a power greater than ourselves, a force not obliged in any way to grant us much of anything.

Mercy is closely related to grace, but it seems to me there is incremental difference. Grace is unmerited favor, an expression of unconditional love. Mercy suggests kindness and grace shown when someone is either in trouble or when someone has messed up, when there’s a big debt to pay and no way to pay it.

Jesus’ parable asks us first to consider the ways that we have been in on the receiving end of mercy, more specifically how our relationship with the Holy One is marked by mercy. Spend a bit of time today thinking about ways that God has been merciful to you. It may be something we don’t give much airtime, in a world where it’s tempting to think that God is awfully lucky to have us on the team. The confession, offered in various forms in our Prayer Book, begins by addressing a merciful God, a key reference for all that follows. Consider what it means that the God of creation is inclined to show mercy. We then recognize that we have not loved God with our whole heart and we have not loved neighbor as self. Admitting that is probably a good place to recognize we are on the receiving end of mercy.

Then Jesus asks us to focus on how we might show mercy to others, based on the recognition that mercy has come to us. That brings me to one of my heroes these days in the Episcopal Church. Bishop Marian Edgar Budde preached 18 months ago at a service marking the inauguration of our current president. She concluded by directly asking the president to show mercy to those who find themselves on the margin. I was inspired, encouraged, grateful for her grace and bravery, her courage and strength. She took a lot of heat for her request. When asked to apologize she boldly said she would never apologize for asking for mercy. Our clergy (yours truly included) need to speak more boldly about the need for those in power to show mercy, along with other values held dear by Jesus followers.

Political powers these days seem to have a pretty short supply of mercy, boosting poll numbers by targeting then excluding those on the margins. How different is that from what the psalmist has to say, noting that our God is characterized by compassion and mercy? To the extent we’re in touch with the quality of mercy, not strained, we are called to show mercy wherever we can. Many in our Episcopal culture are blessed with privilege. How is that privilege an opportunity to offer mercy? With or without privilege, we can show mercy in our interactions in families, workplaces, churches, traffic in the city, intersections with those who are unhoused, and as elections approach, in our political leanings.

As the bard of Avon noted, it’s a good thing to do, not at all strained. At its best, it comes down like heavenly rain, bringing refreshment and new life. And the miracle is it blesses the one who gives as well as the one who receives.

Give thanks for mercy. How can you show mercy this week?

-Jay Sidebotham

By Robert Hendrickson

One of the things I love about RenewalWorks is that it sits at the intersection of individual discipleship and parish identity. Jesus asks us the question, “Who do you say that I am?”. That sits at the heart of our individual spiritual lives and at the heart of our congregational vitality.  

RenewalWorks measures responses that point toward the heart of the leader. Of course, it is meant to provide some objective way to measure the subjective experience of parishioners encountering the expressed and lived Christian commitment of parish leaders.  

The heart of the leader is not at the center of parish life—but it is at the center of the call to new life.  

Parish life can be centered around many things. Some of our parishes are centered around vibrant visions of the future. Some are centered around a vivid nostalgia, too. Some are focused more on activities. Some are focused more on prayer. Some are focused on just making it week to week. 

What a parish focuses on and centers its life around depends on the heart of the leader. And if their heart is not fixed and focused on the Sacred Heart of Jesus, then all else will prove empty.

For a while, the busyness of meeting budgets or launching new programs will seem sufficient. Ultimately, though, all that we do serves one purpose and one master.  

That is discipleship.  

For the parish, for the congregant, and for the leader, discipleship is the striving and stumbling attempt to answer Jesus’s question: Who do you say that I am?  

The hearts of our leaders must beat together in the race to answer that question. Parishes will center their lives on many things—too many to list here.  

But all of what we might offer or say or do are competitive goods. They are all good things. They are all fed by one thing. They are goods competing for our attention but demanding our focus and our focus must be on Christ alone.  

These good things all find their source and summit in Christ. So, we have to tend the heart of it all. We must tend the deep-to-deep connection that spans the ages and quiets the anxieties of the day.  

The heart of the leader is not one that has all the right answers. It is not one that prepares all the right curricula. It is not one that is charting the perfect path.  

The heart of the leader is simply one that beats for Jesus.  

The heart of the leader is simply one that finds its rhythm in the steady, deep, gently thundering love of Christ. Our lives point toward the Center, and we can thank God that we’re not the heart of anything at all except a movement that steadily offers Christ as the way.  

That steadiness is not the product of endless attempts to feed the consumer demands of the day. That steadiness is the hope of hours and days and years and decades and even centuries spent in prayer. That steadiness is the work of making our journey and our lives a living answer to Jesus’s question.  

Who do you say that I am? 

Jesus asks the question. Our people look to their leaders to model an answer. The truest work of biblical scholarship we will offer them is how we live. In our prayerfulness, charity, honesty, joy, and mercy they will see our answer translated as clearly as can be.  

Who do you say that I am?  

How will we answer? 

There our discipleship begins.  

There new life might ever and still be found. 

The Rev. Robert Hendrickson is Chief of Discipleship Initiatives at Forward Movement and a member of the Cedar team.

Psalm 119:33-40

33 Teach me, O Lord, the way of your statutes, and I shall keep it to the end.
34 Give me understanding, and I shall keep your law; I shall keep it with all my heart.
35 Make me go in the path of your commandments, for that is my desire.
36 Incline my heart to your decrees and not to unjust gain.
37 Turn my eyes from watching what is worthless; give me life in your ways.
38 Fulfill your promise to your servant, which you make to those who fear you.
39 Turn away the reproach which I dread, because your judgments are good.
40 Behold, I long for your commandments; in your righteousness preserve my life.

This year, Monday Matters is focused 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.

What's worth watching?

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. -Philippians 4:8

The psalm reprinted above, a psalm you may have heard in church yesterday, is really a cry for help. The psalmist asks God to teach, to give understanding, to keep him on the right path, to turn him from reproach, all part of a longing for God to show the way. Have you ever shared in that longing?

The zinger that I find whenever I run across this psalm comes in v. 37. The psalmist asks the Lord to “turn my eyes from watching worthless things.” What we watch is often where we give our hearts. You might say that we are what we watch. What are the worthless things that come into our vision? By way of confession, I think of the excessive time I spend on social media. I think of the shows I watch that are hardly edifying, that do the spirit no good. I think of how my derangement syndrome causes me to watch the news over and over again, not making me more informed. Just making me mad. I think of a whole other kind of worthless thing: the savoring of resentments, the envy of those more fortunate than myself, the active resistance to forgiveness. All worthless.

It all leads to the question: what are things that are worth watching? It occurs to me that with the passing of Wendell Berry, we could take wisdom from those who watch the world through poetic lens. For instance, perhaps the most famous of Mr. Berry’s poems, “The Peace of Wild Things.”

Maybe we turn to the watchful eye of Annie Dillard, from her book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek:

Then of course, there’s the wisdom of Mary Oliver:

Or the teaching of Rabbi Abraham Joseph Heschel:

And no surprise, Jesus as poet as well as prophet and priest, guides our vision.

Finally, St. Paul speaks of what we should look for, where we should be looking:

There’s a lot to look at in this big, beautiful world. Some of it is worth our attention. Some of it: not so much. The practice of faith, the discipline of faith, the journey of faith, is a lot about where we choose to focus, what we look at, what we watch. May this week we be given grace to watch what is worth watching.

-Jay Sidebotham

Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c

1 Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his Name; make known his deeds among the peoples.
2 Sing to him, sing praises to him, and speak of all his marvelous works.
3 Glory in his holy Name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice.
4 Search for the Lord and his strength; continually seek his face.
5 Remember the marvels he has done, his wonders and the judgments of his mouth,
6 O offspring of Abraham his servant, O children of Jacob his chosen.
23 Israel came into Egypt, and Jacob became a sojourner in the land of Ham.
24 The Lord made his people exceedingly fruitful; he made them stronger than their enemies;
25 Whose heart he turned, so that they hated his people, and dealt unjustly with his servants.
26 He sent Moses his servant, and Aaron whom he had chosen.
45 Hallelujah

This year, Monday Matters is focused 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.

True religion

As I was looking up which psalms were to be read in church yesterday, my eyes drifted off to note the collect assigned for the day. It’s one that catches my eye each time it comes around. My interest lies in the prayer: Increase in us true religion. What do you think constitutes true religion? Who gets to decide?

Right now, there’s a lot of debate in our nation about the role of religion in our common life. There are forces insisting on injecting religious texts and precepts into schools, medical decisions, public policy. When I consider the policies of those pushing for religious intervention, I’m all the more convinced of the need for separation of church and state. There are any number of folks claiming religious authority that I would not want deciding for me what true religion means. (I appreciate the wisdom of theologian Dave Barry who noted: People who want to share their religious views with you almost never want you to share yours with them.) And I’m certain that a vast majority would not want me to select the person to determine what true religion means in our common life.

Now maybe if Dolly Parton was in charge, I’d want her to do that work. I would not be alone. Lacking that opportunity, think with me this morning about what true religion is all about.

You may have heard Psalm 105 in church yesterday. It provides insight into true religion. It begins and ends with praise, by giving thanks to God and by glorying in his name. As the psalm begins with praise, it ends the same way, with a simple hallelujah. In other words, true religion begins and ends with a humble recognition that our lives unfold in the presence of a power greater than ourselves, in the confidence that such a greater power is in essence about love. That can be hard to believe at times, but if we can even embrace of bit of that as true, I believe it leads us into true religion, which is an attitude of gratitude and a spirit inclined toward praise. Start today with some thanks and praise.

The psalm calls for our own intention and participation in true religion. It instructs us to search for the Lord and his strength. We are to continually seek his face. There is a persistence called for by true religion. We have skin in the game. We are meant to continue the search even as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. What does that search look like for you this morning?

The psalm calls for us to remember. Religion finds its roots in the word religio which means to bind again. There’s an aspect to religion that involves remembering what God has done. We do that every week in the eucharist, with a prayer that includes in one form or another a citation of the good things that God has done in the past. That portion of the eucharistic prayer is referred to in technical liturgical terms as anamnesis. Literally not amnesia. Not forgetting. How quickly we forget. Religion brings us back. And it does so not in isolation but in community. We can’t do this alone. As we are bound again to a tradition, we are bound to each other.

One aspect of true religion not noted in this particular psalm surfaces later in the New Testament. In the letter of James, a practical guide to putting faith to work in the world, the author says that, among other things, true religion is a matter or helping orphans and widows (James 1:27). I take that as shorthand indicating that true religion exhibits a preferential option for the poor, finding Christ in those pushed to the margins. If you heard a reading from Romans in church yesterday, it speaks of the call to pray for enemies, to forgive them, to be in relationship with the “lowly”. That’s such a Jesus thing. According to St. Paul, Jesus did not take equality with God as something to be grasped but emptied himself, taking on the form of a servant (Philippians 2).

We live at a time when it may be more palatable to be spiritual and not religious. A lot of that has to do with the dismal way that religious institutions have failed, the damage they have done, the injustices in which they have been complicit. Which makes it all the more important, as religious endeavor to search for the Lord and his face, to continually seek his face. Think today about how you might define true religion. What are its key components? How might you practice it this week?

-Jay Sidebotham

Psalm 138

1 I will give thanks to you, O Lord, with my whole heart; before the gods I will sing your praise.
2 I will bow down toward your holy temple and praise your Name, because of your love and faithfulness;
3 For you have glorified your Name and your word above all things.
4 When I called, you answered me; you increased my strength within me.
5 All the kings of the earth will praise you, O Lord, when they have heard the words of your mouth.
6 They will sing of the ways of the Lord, that great is the glory of the Lord.
7 Though the Lord be high, he cares for the lowly; he perceives the haughty from afar.
8 Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you keep me safe; you stretch forth your hand against the fury of my enemies; your right hand shall save me.
9 The Lord will make good his purpose for me; O Lord, your love endures for ever; do not abandon the works of your hands

This year, Monday Matters is focused 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.

Before the gods I will sing your praise. -Psalm 138:1

This phrase from Psalm 138 (reprinted above) points to the belief reflected in scripture that the biblical people lived in the presence of all kinds of gods. As the children of Israel made their way through the wilderness, headed for the promised land, again and again they were warned: Don’t be taken in by the local gods. We find it not only in the stories of the Hebrew Scriptures, where we run up against Baal and Molech and a bunch of other deities. It also turns up in the New Testament, when Paul goes to Athens (Acts 17…great story…take some time to read it later today) and comments on the various gods worshipped by the Athenians. There’s even a statue to the unknown god, just to cover all bases. We might be tempted to regard this polytheistic way of thinking as quaint. We might think we have outgrown such primitive notions. But it may provide an opportunity to think about the various gods we continue to worship. Where do we, as individuals and as culture, ascribe ultimate value?

I’m almost finished reading a great book (highly recommend) by Samuel Wells, Rector of St. Martins in the Fields in London and former chaplain at Duke. The book is entitled Humbler Faith, Bigger God. As someone who has clearly spent time among smart and skeptical college students, he presents objections to the Christian faith and outlines a way to respond to those objections in order to generate a lively faith, a faith to live by.

There’s a wonderful passage in which he goes through the ten commandments and talks about how each of the commandments addresses the fact that we don’t think we are enough or have enough. That sense of not-enough-ness is timeless. Each of the commandments can identify the fact that we don’t think we have enough.

Covetousness, adultery, bearing false witness among others, can be seen as a belief we do not have enough. When he gets to the first commandment, which says you shall have no other gods before me, that clearly indicates that in life, there are many things we might regard as holy, as ultimate, as worthy of our worship. When we do that, he believes it’s saying that our God is simply not enough.

Not surprisingly, he says it better than I can. Addressing the second commandment (having no idols) he writes:

Surely the psychology of this is that God is not enough – not big enough, or at least not near enough. So shall I make a god I can relate to, a god my size – a car perhaps, a career maybe, even the scales that tell me how much I weigh. And now we’re getting nearer the heart of the problem. There’s an abiding anxiety that we don’t have enough – not enough property, not enough time, not enough love, not enough language. But the heart of the matter is that we feel we don’t have enough God.

He then writes, in God’s voice:

I am a God of abundance, who gives you more than enough, far more than you could ever want or need, who created galaxies no one may ever see, who has depths of forgiveness no sinner may ever require, who gives in Jesus more love than you could ever realize.

The author of Psalm 138 recognizes there are other gods we might turn to, perhaps more accessible. But that author offers a bigger picture, moving into unfettered praise of the God of creation. That psalmist had glimpses of a god who all the kings will praise, and at the same time great enough to pay attention to the lowly.

J.B. Phillips wrote a wonderful, small book called Your God Is Too Small. I think that’s what Mr Wells is after. A bigger picture. How can we arrive at that broader view, that singular focus this week? No other gods. Jesus said: Seek first the kingdom of God and all these other things will be added to you.

There may be a course correction needed as we all contend with divided attention. We may not have chapels in our homes dedicated to the worship of Baal, but I venture a guess that we all are pulled in many directions. With awareness of that, we shift our focus to gratitude for all good gifts around us, with awe for the beauty of creation, with worship of a God who does far more than we can ever imagine, a God from whose love we can never be separated.

-Jay Sidebotham

Psalm 85:8-13

8 I will listen to what the Lord God is saying, for he is speaking peace to his faithful people and to those who turn their hearts to him.
9 Truly, his salvation is very near to those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land.
10 Mercy and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
11 Truth shall spring up from the earth, and righteousness shall look down from heaven.
12 The Lord will indeed grant prosperity, and our land will yield its increase.
13 Righteousness shall go before him, and peace shall be a pathway for his feet.

This year, Monday Matters is focused 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.

Grace and Truth

I’ve been traveling the past two weeks in pilgrimage in the United Kingdom, having spent a few days on the island of Iona, moving on to Northumbria. I was not able (or smart enough) to send this reflection from the wilds of Iona, so you’re getting it late, with the psalm from Sunday, August 9. I’ve learned all kinds of stuff on this journey, suspecting that I must have slept in for a few seminary classes in church history.

I learned about King Oswald, whose feast day was observed last week. He grew up in the seventh century, and went into exile in Ireland and Iona. He wanted to bring the gospel to North Umbria. So he sent the first missionary, Corman, whose ministry bombed. Corman soon returned to Iona, complaining that the Northumbrian people were stubborn and impossible to teach. What a relief to know that modern day clergy would never make such a complaint! For their part, those Northumbrians complained that Corman was a harsh teacher, maybe proclaiming truth but doing so in an off-putting way. What a relief to know that modern day parishioners never regard their clergy in such a way!

Oswald did not give up. He sent another monk named Aidan to take on the mission. Aidan met the people with patience and grace, walking with them, turning down a horse to ride on because it put him above the people, talking to them and most important listening to them. He stayed to become bishop of Lindisfarne, carrying out a ministry regarded as fruitful. The graciousness of his ministry was strong enough to be recounted many centuries later.

The key to Aidan’s success: he not only communicated the truth of the gospel, which the people had not heard, truth they needed to hear. He also did so with grace and humility. He refused the gift of a horse, preferring to walk among the people. I was intrigued by this glimpse into church life in the seventh century. It shows that little has changed over the years. We still these days find plenty of religious people who will bring their truth with harsh rigidity and very little listening. Religious people convinced that they have the truth can run with that confidence, and in the process run over people. As Dave Barry asked: Why is it that religious people want to tell you what they believe but never want to hear what you believe? Ever experienced that? We hunger for those who can bring truth with grace, recognizing that the two need to go together.

The psalm you may have heard in church last week, reprinted above, speaks of mercy and truth meeting together, righteousness and peace kissing each other (Psalm 85:10). It brings to mind the prologue from John’s gospel, in which the author speaks of the Word made flesh. That prologue says that Jesus arrived, full of grace and truth. It’s so clear to me that we need both.

Truth without grace was Corman’s downfall. Have you ever had someone present what they thought was the truth in such a way that you felt judged or diminished? Have you ever presented your truth that way? The lack of grace in such presentation can make the most important truth inaccessible.

Grace without truth may be what Bonhoeffer had in mind when he spoke of cheap grace. Grace and mercy and compassion find their greatest impact in the context of a realistic assessment of the human condition, that fact that we fall short, that fact that we need help, the fact that help comes from a source higher than ourselves.

Going back to the beginning of John’s gospel, Jesus comes to us full of grace and truth.

The gospels are shot through with truths that challenge us. Jesus said that any who would follow him must deny themselves, take up the cross and follow. He says that if you want to find your life, you have to lose it. At the same time, he graciously invites all who labor and are heavy laden to come to him, to find that his yoke is easy and burden is light. He himself stretches arms of love on the hard wood of the cross to draw all humanity into his saving embrace. Expansive grace meets the hard truth of that hard wood.

So what do we do with all that? We look to Jesus, full of grace and truth. We are called to remember that when we share our truth, we are called to do so with grace and humility. When we speak of righteousness, we are called to do so with mercy. Might you have occasion this week to hold those two things together, to practice them both?

-Jay Sidebotham

Below you will find a new resource offered by the Center for Discipleship and Renewal at Forward Movement (the new initiative of which RenewalWorks is part) called Sharing Our Stories, with a brief introduction from Robert Hendrickson, Chief of Discipleship Initiatives at Forward Movement.

Dear Friends in Christ,

This short series is about something wonderfully simple and deeply important. It is focused on learning to tell the story of God’s friendship with us, and discovering that sharing our faith is one of the most natural expressions of discipleship.

Before we begin, one small confession. Along the way we stumbled over lines, laughed at ourselves, had microphones misbehave, found strange camera angles, and made more than a few mistakes.

The course is less than perfect because following Jesus has never been about getting everything right the first time.

Discipleship is joyful experimentation. It’s trying, learning, growing, and trusting that God is at work even in our imperfections.

We hope these sessions encourage you not only to tell your story, but to discover in new ways that God can use it just as it is and laughs alongside us as we learn and grow together in faith.

Yours in Christ,

Fr Robert Hendrickson

We are excited to introduce a new short video course to support worshipping communities growing in faith. Sharing Our Stories will help disciples understand, develop, and pray with their own stories of faith in conversation with stories from the Bible, the saints, and other Christians.

These three videos - each lasting fifteen minutes or less - are now available on the Cedar website, where you will also find a downloadable discussion guide and a transcript of the course. The videos are also available on YouTube.

Designed for adult formation sessions or leadership retreats, the videos may be watched in person or online in a group with guided conversation, or at home and then discussed later in small group settings. The course is ideal for one 90-minute session or three separate shorter sessions.

The course features Robert Hendrickson, Chief of Discipleship Initiatives at Forward Movement, Andrew Stravitz, Episcopal priest and Marriage and Family Therapist, and Kristin Tovar, artist, entrepreneur, writer, and community builder. In this course, they teach practices of story-sharing that will help participants further engage the story of God in their lives. Exploring a theology of friendship with Christ through modern and ancient stories, groups will be guided through a meaningful and engaging practice designed to help share your stories and to grow in love of God and neighbor.

Episode One, “The Scripts We’re Given,” explores the religious scripts we are often handed in American culture, and why they do not capture the fullness of our lives in God. Participants are guided through practices of discovery and bearing witness to their own stories.

Episode Two, “Friendship with God,” deepens the engagement with Jesus’ stories of friendship, with special care to plumb those stories and our own with responsibility and love.

Episode Three, “You are the Letters of God,” explores where Jesus is most active in Scripture and in our own lives. Participants are led in an exercise to help them explore and share their own stories in light of Scripture.

As a pilot course for Cedar, feedback is welcome as future short courses are in the works. Please email Taylor Devine, Church Relations Coordinator for Discipleship Initiatives, to request a review form or to provide feedback.