Read, Looking for the Mystery - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Monday • 5/13/2024 •

Monday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 89:1-18; Joshua 1:1-9; Ephesians 3:1-13; Matthew 8:5-17

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 9 (“The First Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 12:2–6, BCP, p. 86); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)

Today’s lesson: It’s not just that I read, but how I read. 

Read slowly. “… you shall meditate on it day and night…” — Joshua 1:8. Joshua is given formidable tasks and stupendous promises. And he’s given one principal resource: “all the law that my servant Moses commanded you … this book of the law.” The key to success in the tasks at hand lies in not deviating from what’s in that book. For all the verbal instructions that Yahweh will provide, he has revealed his heart and his mind, and has laid out the shape of relationship with him, in the written word. And that word must be internalized, taken in slowly, and “chewed on” (the literal meaning of the Hebrew word translated “meditate on”).  

So, the notion of the word “not depart[ing] out of your mouth” is graphic. Of course, in the abstract, it means “think about it” all the time. But the concrete image is quite vivid: “chew on it,” the way a cow chews its cud, or a dog worries its bone. That sort of reading presupposes reading slowly and reflectively. It calls for committing thoughts and phrases to memory, and for rolling them over on the tongue. It means constantly pondering their significance. It does not mean breezing through passages to put a check mark on a to-do list. That’s easy to do in an exercise like the Daily Office. Which is why I often have to make myself slow down, reread, and ask the Lord what I’m supposed to be getting today, as I look for key phrases to jump out and grab me.

Image: Adaptation, "Roman centurion at the Coliseum, Rome" by Andrew & Suzanne is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.

It means committing some passages to memory. Good candidates from today’s reading in Joshua are: 

“This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth; you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to act in accordance with all that is written in it. For then you shall make your way prosperous, and then you shall be successful.” (Joshua 1:8)

and:

“I hereby command you: Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

Read, looking for the mystery. “…a reading of which will enable you to perceive my understanding of the mystery of Christ…” — Ephesians 3:4. Besides reading slowly, today’s passages commend a certain purpose in reading: looking for what God would reveal to you and to me about his Son, and about the way he is making all things new through his Son. 

For Paul, there is a twofold “mystery” hidden throughout the Old Testament, now being revealed for the world. That mystery is Christ and his Church. For example, in the first place, “Joshua” (translated “Jesus” in the Greek Old Testament) pictures ahead of time the One who will bear the same name when he comes to earth to conquer sin and death—as Paul describes the “mystery” in Colossians: “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27). In the second place, as the nation of Israel enters the Promised Land to become a colony of God’s rule, she depicts in advance Jesus’s Church growing into a house for God’s dwelling (Ephesians 2:22): “the mystery of Christ…that is, the Gentiles have become fellow-heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel” (Ephesians 3:4b, 6). 

A Christ-filled interpretive imagination can get carried away with itself, of course (early theologians could find Christ’s blood in Rahab’s red rope). But our imaginations can also become dull to the fact that “the ends of the ages” have fallen upon us (1 Corinthians 10:11). We can too easily forget that, at its heart, the whole of the Bible points to Christ. I should read, asking Christ to show himself and what he’s doing to bring people into fellowship with him and with one another. And then for him to show me where I fit in those purposes—even in what lies ahead today. 

Read as under authority. Centurion: “For I also am a man under authority” … Jesus: “Truly I tell you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.” — Matthew 8:9a, 10b. Finally, I need to read, expecting marching orders! This centurion was accustomed to responding to superiors who communicated to him through messengers. He knew that Jesus, like the centurion’s own superiors, spoke with such authority that Jesus wouldn’t physically need to be some place for his commands to be enforced. 

The faithful centurion knew that dutiful messengers don’t speak for themselves. We know that faithful Scripture writers don’t either. When I read them, I need to listen for the voice of their Master and mine. As Peter puts it: “It was not on any human initiative that prophecy came: rather, it was under the compulsion of the Holy Spirit that people spoke as messengers of God” (2 Peter 1:21 REB). 

From the Catechism in the Book of Common Prayer.

Q. Why do we call the Holy Scriptures the Word of God?

A. We call them the Word of God because God inspired their human authors and because God still speaks to us through the Bible.

Be blessed this day,

Reggie Kidd+

Mercy and Truth Have Met Together - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Friday • 5/10/2024 •

Friday of the 6th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalms 85 & 86; 1 Samuel 2:1-10; Ephesians 2:1-10; Matthew 7:22-27

This morning’s Canticles are: Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 10 (“The Second Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 55:6–11; BCP, p. 86); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 18 (“A Song to the Lamb,” Revelation 4:11; 5:9-10, 13, BCP, p. 93)

I love it every seven weeks when Psalm 85 rolls back around in the Daily Office. Every time, a single verse from this psalm brings everything else going on around me to a halt. I have to pause to take it in once again:

Mercy and truth have met together; *
righteousness and peace have kissed each other (Psalm 85:10).

Image: Adaptation, Pixabay

Think about the wonder of what’s being said here. Deep within the wonder of God’s very being, seeming opposites coalesce. The unbreakable truth of God’s Law meets the tenderness of God’s mercy. The unbending rectitude of his righteous justice kisses the loving peaceability of his heart. He must judge rightly, and he loves endlessly. The Bible, then, as a whole turns out to be a telling of the epic of this dynamic—this “meeting” and this “kissing”—as it is played out on the world stage, culminating at the cross of Calvary. There truth and mercy meet. There righteousness and peace kiss. There, as the apostle Paul puts it, God shows himself to be “just and justifier” (Romans 3:26).

This verse from Psalm 85 reminds me of the 18th century Welsh hymn, “Here is love,” which includes this verse:

On the mount of crucifixion fountains opened deep and wide;
through the floodgates of God’s mercy flowed a vast and gracious tide.
Grace and love, like mighty rivers, poured incessant from above,
and heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love.

What an arresting line, that last one: “Heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love.”

“Here Is Love,” at “The Event Without Walls,” Exeter Showground, 1995

“Here Is Love,” sung by Matt Redman

Ephesians 2 finds the apostle Paul reveling, in the first place, in the way that the walking dead—unworthy sinners, all—have been, out of the richness of God’s mercy, made alive in Christ. Indeed, they have been raised up and seated in the heavenly places right alongside the ascended ruling Christ (Ephesians 2:1-10, today’s epistle reading). In the second place, Ephesians 2 shows Paul glorying over the way that formerly alienated people—Jew and Gentile—have been made one, since Christ has become their peace (Ephesians 2:11-21, tomorrow’s epistle reading). Truth and mercy. Righteousness and peace.

Accordingly, at the end of the Sermon on the Mount, in our gospel reading, Jesus urges (I paraphrase): “build your life on the solid rock of this truth, not on the sand of your own machinations and strivings. Don’t think you can approximate God’s righteousness on your own merit. Don’t think you can presume to find mercy apart from ‘my blood of the covenant’ (Matthew 26:28). Take the whole package deal. Take me,” he says, “because in me, mercy and truth meet. Take me, because in me, righteousness and peace kiss. Take me, because in me, heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love.”

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

Crowned with Glory and Honor - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 5/9/2024 •

Thursday of the 6th Week of Easter

Today is the Feast of the Ascension of Christ

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalms 8 & 47; Daniel 7:9-14; Hebrews 2:5-18; Matthew 28:16-20

This morning’s Canticles are: Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 8 (“The Song of Moses,” Exodus 15, BCP, p. 85); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3-4, BCP, p. 94)

You give him mastery over the works of your hands; you put all things under his feet. — Psalm 8:7. The majesty of the heavens makes David, in Psalm 8, ponder the wonder of the Lord’s having put us humans at the pinnacle of creation. David is in awe of the status that we have been given—crowned with glory and honor, overseers of a dominion where everything is life, no death; cooperative effort, minus coercion or corruption; productivity without waste. 

I love the way the artist Ari Gradus (www.ari-gradus.com) imagines our relationship with the creation in his painting Spirit - Creation. The form of Adam emerges from the ground. His posture is one of wondrous praise. It’s as though all earth’s plenitude streams out from him, or at least revolves around him—as though the glory of image-bearing flows out with its own creative, life-giving energy. Even though that’s an inversion of the order of the Genesis account, it captures the biblical logic of humans being the fulcrum and crown of creation.

And yet…

As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them… — Hebrews 2:8b. Perhaps one of the greatest understatements of all time. The writer to the Hebrews takes up Psalm 8’s celebration of the dignified place of humans in the scheme of things. But he notes that what we see—what we experience—is not what Psalm 8 envisions. As it is, we don’t see humans large-and-in-charge. As it is, we don’t see humans proudly reflecting the glory. As it is, we don’t see ourselves here and now as lords and ladies of God’s creatures.

In a second painting, titled Paradise Lost, Ari Gradus captures this “As it is…” insight. No, since the Garden, “we do not see everything in subjection to him.” Instead, the bitter fruit of the bite from the forbidden fruit leaves us cringing and fleeing for shelter. Creation devolves into a serpentine swirl of threatening globs, all of them indistinct, except for the ones in the shape of the forbidden fruit. Adam and Eve have dropped the fruit with the missing bite to the ground, where it lies at the front of the painting. Several forbidden fruit seem to chase the unhappy couple down, threatening to rain down upon them.

“As it is,” indeed. We are supposed to be the crown of creation. But starting early in 2020, we found ourselves plagued by an ironically named coronavirus, “corona” being the Latin word from which we get “crown.” Originally, “corona” meant a “wreath” of honor or “garland” of majesty. The microscopic coronavirus is covered with super-microscopic crowns. When the coronavirus invisibly invades our being, it connects itself to our lungs with those grabby crowns, so it can claim us and kill us. It’s brought our economy to its knees. It’s made us mask ourselves from one another and has caused us to be fearful of getting within six feet of each other. Even the confinement it has forced on us has led to things like increased domestic violence and substance abuse. The helplessness we feel, the sense of attack we experience—they are a parable of what it is to live with “Paradise Lost.”

…but we do see Jesus… — Hebrews 2:9a. Then again, this is Ascension Day. And the writer to the Hebrews doesn’t quote Psalm 8 to push us further into despair. He wants us to look up and see that at the right hand of the Father sits Jesus. There in advance of us is our Champion—once “made lower than the angels” and “suffering…death and tasting death for everyone,” now “crowned with glory and honor [also] for us” (Hebrews 2:9). He is there because paradise has been regained.

There, according to the writer to the Hebrews, quoting Psalm 22:22, he proclaims the Father’s name to us, a name of holy blessing (Hebrews 2:12; and see Numbers 6:23-27). And there, according to the same psalm, he sings a hymn of praise to the Father (Hebrews 2:12). He proclaims the truth that our sins have been atoned for, “our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water” (Hebrews 10:22). He sings us out of shame and into his fellowship as his brothers and sisters (Hebrews 2:11). He announces—and loudly, I submit!—that he has “destroy[ed] the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free[d] those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (v. 15). As “merciful and faithful high priest,” he tunes our voices for the singing of praise to the Father who has provided complete atonement and timely help (2:18; see also 4:16).

Collect of the Day: Ascension Day. Almighty God, whose blessed Son our Savior Jesus Christ ascended far above all heavens that he might fill all things: Mercifully give us faith to perceive that, according to his promise, he abides with his Church on earth, even to the end of the ages; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

The One True Israelite - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Wednesday • 5/8/2024 •

Wednesday of the 6th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 78:1-39; Leviticus 26:1-20; 1 Timothy 2:1-6; Matthew 13:18-23

This morning’s Canticles are: Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 13 (“A Song of Praise,” BCP, p. 90); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 18 (“A Song to the Lamb,” Revelation 4:11; 5:9-10, 13, BCP, p. 93)

From the depths to the heights today!

Dark days ahead for a failed Israel. Leviticus’s perspective is that Israel’s failure in her call to be a kingdom of priests and a light to the nations is inevitable. Israel’s life would be a colossal exercise in reductio ad absurdum—exile would be the absurd end of the God-rejecting logic of their lives. Called to make human life flourish, they would become cannibals. Called to cultivate worship of the true and living God, their carcasses would be piled upon the carcasses of their idols. Called to give the land rest, they would be forced into a frenzied fleeing from enemies (real and imagined) so, yes, the land could rest from them.

This is excruciating material. Small wonder the entire drift of modernity has been to project a different image up into the heavens—an image that looks like the best and the kindest that we can imagine in ourselves—and then call that projected image “God.” From Ludwig Feuerbach’s “God is the infinity of our own nature” to Eric Fromm’s “humanistic god”—though not everyone is especially honest about it—especially the theologians who mask it under other names, like Paul Tillich’s “Ultimate Concern.” Then again, it’s not a uniquely modern project. In the second century, the heretic Marcion erroneously rejected the Old Testament God of Vengeance (whose voice we hear especially strongly here in Leviticus 26), and replaced him with the New Testament God of Love.

Image: Pixabay

One True Israelite. Indeed, a passage like today’s from Leviticus 26 would be the most depressing, nightmarish of scenarios, were it not for the fact that One True Israelite would, in time, answer the call to circumcise His heart (see Leviticus 26:41). The “circumcision of Christ” (see Colossians 2:11) would begin in the waters of the River Jordan—a symbolic drowning, and a second crossing of the Jordan into the Promised Land. The circumcision of Christ would become complete when this One True Israelite would humble himself (again, Leviticus 26:41) to the indignity of a cruel Roman cross, and thereby “make amends for their iniquity” (once more, Leviticus 26:41). What’s more, that True Israelite—Son of their greatest king—would also be the embodiment of Yahweh himself, David’s Lord (Psalm 110:1). So, what he would accomplish, he would accomplish perfectly—on behalf of us, and on behalf of God (Matthew 22:41-45).

All of this happens in the New Testament, not by its authors refashioning God, but by their taking with utmost seriousness the full force of the language of God’s “fury” against sin and “abhorrence” of everything in us that finds sin so delightful. Against that evil, the New Testament sees God waging perfect warfare—Himself plunging into drowning waters of purgation, nailing our offenses to a cross, and one ultimately, of His own making (Colossians 2:14).

Savoring the victory. Paul writes his letter to the Ephesians in the wake of the realization that Israel’s failure had led to her greatest glory: bearing to the world the mystery the “glorious grace that [our God and Father] freely bestowed on us in the Beloved … redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses.” This rich treasure, “as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth.”

It’s only in recognizing the terrifying, blazing fury of God against sin which Moses records in Leviticus 26 that we are able, with the apostle Paul in Ephesians 1, to appreciate the beauty of who Christ is and the magnitude of what he has done to bring us into a restored relationship with God. May his name be forever praised.

Collect for the Sixth Sunday of Easter. O God, you have prepared for those who love you such good things as surpass our understanding: Pour into our hearts such love towards you, that we, loving you in all things and above all things, may obtain your promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

Our Hearts Are Fertile Ground - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 5/7/2024 •

Tuesday of the 6th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 78:1-39; Leviticus 26:1-20; 1 Timothy 2:1-6; Matthew 13:18-23

This morning’s Canticles are: Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 13 (“A Song of Praise,” BCP, p. 90); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 18 (“A Song to the Lamb,” Revelation 4:11; 5:9-10, 13, BCP, p. 93)

Today’s passages from the Psalms, Leviticus, and Matthew are strong warnings about a failure of faith. They caution against allowing oneself to become impervious to God’s abundant grace.

Hard ground. In Jesus’s parable, hard ground simply makes the seed bounce off it. Psalm 78 sees in Israelites’ stubbornness in the wilderness an imperviousness to God’s grace. God rains down manna, “bread of angels … food enough.” But it wasn’t enough: “they did not stop their craving” (v. 29) … “they had no faith in his wonderful works” (v. 32). The goodness of God’s seed was falling on hard, dry, impenetrable ground.

Do not let that happen with me. Lord, have mercy.

Shallow ground shows hollow early promise. When the truths of God’s Word (even if I assent to them) don’t connect with the longings of my heart, those truths don’t get written to the “hard drive” of my being. They don’t connect with the core of my being. It’s like when I find myself in the garage and I can’t remember what I came there for (say, to get a nail so I could hang a picture). I start out with a purpose, but along the way I think about one thing and then another. By the time I get to the garage, the original intention is gone. It’s possible to experience an initial impulse to worship, obey, serve, even love. But the desire doesn’t last. It withers in the face of deeper, but lesser, impulses. It fades when faith doesn’t sustain it.

On the east bank of the Red Sea in the first blush of their exodus-rescue, the Israelites danced and sang the Song of Moses: “I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously” (Exodus 15:1). But the early joy faded: the wilderness journey was long and hard. Even “bread of angels” couldn’t satisfy the “cravings” (Psalm 78:24-30). “They had no faith in God, nor did they put their trust in his saving power” (Psalm 78:22). They forgot that Yahweh rescued them, and brought them where they were. They lost their confidence that Yahweh’s love would provide their needs on their way to their promised new home; and all he wanted was for them to love him in return.

“But I have this against you,” writes the angel to the church in Ephesus, “that you have left your first love” (Revelation 2:4). Never let me lose my first love. Christ, have mercy.

Image: Adaptation, Pixabay

Ground that will grow anything fails to distinguish between good and bad. Jesus’s point is that our hearts are fertile ground for all kinds of things—some good, some bad. Below the surface of every person are hidden motives and deep desires. I need to be discerning about what kind of “life” I allow my heart to cultivate. The Israelites of the Bible, for instance, are inclined to worship. That’s the wiring of their hearts. And that’s why Leviticus 26 leads with the command: “You shall make for yourselves no idols and erect no carved images or pillars … to worship at them. You shall keep my sabbaths and reverence my sanctuary” (Leviticus 26:2). Will they worship the true God his way? Or will they worship a god of their own fashioning? Or, just as bad, will they be so arrogant as to worship the true God—but in their own way?

Jesus forces probing questions with his words about thorns that choke: Do I believe that God is there, but when it comes to finding love, do I rely on lesser lovers? And when it comes to comfort, do I go to Jack Daniels or fill-in-the-blank? Do I believe that every person bears God’s image, but do I only care about the ones who can improve my lot? Do I believe I am to love my neighbor, but refuse to curb my freedom and wear a mask to protect their health? Do I believe Christ died for my sins, but justify my existence by being a people-pleaser? Do I believe my hope lies in Christ’s return, but find myself manic—or, alternatively, incapacitated—over how to protect my portfolio?

Let my heart be neither hard ground nor shallow ground nor indiscriminate ground. Let my heart be good ground for your Word. Lord, have mercy.

Collect for the Sixth Sunday of Easter. O God, you have prepared for those who love you such good things as surpass our understanding: Pour into our hearts such love towards you, that we, loving you in all things and above all things, may obtain your promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

A Lasting Inheritance - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Monday • 5/6/2024 •

Monday of the 6th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 80; Leviticus 25:35-55; Colossians 1:9-14; Matthew 13:1-16

This morning’s Canticles are: following the OT reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)

Today is Monday of the 6th Week of Easter. Alleluia! The Lord is risen…!

Israel’s life was always supposed to be a symbol of hope for the world. 

So, a few words about the first half of Leviticus 25 (which would have been yesterday’s reading). Every fifty years, Israel was to “proclaim liberty throughout the land … a jubilee for you” (Leviticus 25:10). At the end of last week’s readings in Leviticus, we saw how Israel was instructed to calculate seven weeks between the annual feast of the first fruits (Leviticus 23:9-14) and the annual feast marking the end of the year’s labors (Leviticus 23:15-21). Beyond that, Israel was to mark off, not just her weeks, but her years according to a similar pattern. Every seventh year was to be a sabbatical— (Leviticus 25:1-7). Then after seven cycles of seven years, at the fiftieth year, an additional sabbath year was to be observed. On the Day of Atonement in that fiftieth year, a shophar made from a ram’s horn was to sound, marking the Year of Jubilee. All land was to revert to its ancestral owners. It was to be a time of release for slaves, of the forgiveness of debts, and of additional rest for the land. Israel was to do a complete reset, under the banner of “liberty throughout the land” (Leviticus 25:2-34). It was a vision that never materialized in Israel’s history (see Leviticus 26:34-35; 2 Chronicles 36:21; Jeremiah 25:11-12; 29:10). It never actually controlled Israel’s social life, except around the margins. 

The jubilee vision lived on in the prophets, however. Isaiah foresaw the coming of God’s Servant who would proclaim “release for the captive … the year of the Lord’s favor” (Isaiah 61:1-4). And Daniel laid out future history in terms of cycles of sevens that would ultimately lead to “one like a son of man” who would assume all dominion on earth (Daniel 7:9-17; 9:20-27), and who would “put an end to sin, … atone for iniquity, [and] … bring in everlasting righteousness” (Daniel 9:20-27). Accordingly, Jesus proclaims himself to be that very herald of “the year of the Lord’s favor” (Luke 4:18-19). And John shapes his book of Revelation around seven cycles of seven, culminating in Jesus Christ’s final defeat of everything evil as he ushers in “a new heaven and a new earth” (Revelation 19-22). 

Meanwhile, what takeaways could we possibly have from the Jubilee legislation? 

Image: "The antique inheritance tortures the overtone." by TheRealMichaelMoore is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

The logic of redemption. A constant refrain in today’s verses from Leviticus 25 is this: “I brought you out of the land of Egypt” (Leviticus 25:38, 42, 55). People who know they have been bought with a price treat others differently: the mercy that has been extended to me—I extend that same mercy for you. The freedom I enjoy as a gift—I want it for you as well. Thus, Israelites were forbidden to charge usurious interest to impoverished fellow Israelites (Leviticus 25:35-38). Fellow Israelites who became reduced to such poverty that they had to sell themselves into slavery were to be given every opportunity to work their way out their indenture (Leviticus 25:39-43, 47-55). As to non-Israelite slaves (Leviticus 25:44-46), the Jubilee-release didn’t apply. God’s covenant was with the Israelites, not with pagans in the land. The dramatic scope of the new covenant is that its gospel extends beyond Israel, to include the nations. As Paul writes: “to the Jew first, and also to the Greek” (Romans 1;17). When God’s own Son assumed the role of slave (Philippians 2:1-12), he made us all into former-slaves who serve as if slaves, because we are in reality “friends” (John 15:15). 

A lasting inheritance. The message of Leviticus 25 and its intended reset of property ownership every fifty years is that as a member of God’s family, I have been given a permanent inheritance—one I cannot sell or give away. In Moses’s day here’s what that sounded like: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, to give you the land of Canaan, to be your God” (Leviticus 25:38). Since the coming of Christ, here’s what that promise of inheritance sounds like: “By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time” (1 Peter 1:3b-5).  

One day, everything else I acquire in this life will go away, and I will discover that my Father’s inheritance is the one truly valuable thing I have. At the heart of that inheritance is this truth: “… to be your God” (Leviticus 25:38b). 

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

What We Celebrate - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Friday • 5/3/2024 •

Friday of the 5th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 106:1-18; Leviticus 23:1-22; 2 Thessalonians 2:1-17; Matthew 7:1-12

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 10 (“The Second Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 55:6–11; BCP, p. 86); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 18 (“A Song to the Lamb,” Revelation 4:11; 5:9–10, 13, BCP, p. 93)

I love the way themes in different passages in the Daily Office sometimes converge, as they do today. 

Leviticus 23 & the festival life. In the shape of Israel’s cycle of festivals it is difficult not to see an anticipation of the Eucharistic life. First, the annual Passover looks back to deliverance from slavery—“Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us; therefore let us keep the feast” (Leviticus 23:4-8; 1 Corinthians 6:7b,8a). Second, at the appearance of the first fruits of harvest, Israelites feast again to fortify themselves for the harvest-labors ahead—Christ offers himself as “Bread of Life,” strengthening and nourishing us in our earthly pilgrimage (Leviticus 23:9-14; John 6, esp. verse 35). Third, seven sabbaths after the first fruits, on the fiftieth day, when the harvest is all in, Israel celebrates the end of the year’s labors—“…until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom” (Leviticus 23:15-21; Matthew 26:29; and see Isaiah 25:5-8; Revelation 19:6-9). 

Here, perfectly laid out in advance, is the Eucharistic pattern. Praise be, for a meal of remembrance. Praise be, for a meal of nourishment. Praise be, for a meal of anticipation. 

Image: Pixabay

2 Thessalonians 2 & a life of anticipation. Believers in Paul’s church in Thessalonica were so eager for the day of Christ’s return and for its accompanying feast, that they were afraid they had missed it somehow. From Acts, it appears that Paul may have been with them for only “three sabbaths” when he brought the gospel to them (Acts 17:2). So there were some gaps in his instruction, including details about Christ’s future coming. Since Paul’s departure, the Thessalonians have been unsettled by reports that Paul himself was teaching elsewhere that “the day of the Lord is already here” (2 Thessalonians 2:2). Thessalonians are afraid they may have missed out, and they are speculating about how to fill in the gaps in their “prophecy charts.” 

Paul is concerned that their preoccupation with the “end times” will distract the Thessalonians from the good beginning of their faith. He urges them: “as you learned from us how you ought to live and to please God (as in fact, you are doing), you should do so more and more” (1 Thessalonians 4:1). Specifically, he warns them about experimenting with sexual misbehavior (1 Thessalonians 4:3-7, something for which, historically, end-times cults are notorious). And he rebukes some Thessalonian believers who have quit their jobs, apparently so they can just wait around for the end (1 Thessalonians 4:11-12; 2 Thessalonians 3:10-13). 

Even as he fills in some of the gaps in their knowledge about the end, Paul is sparing as to details. Because Christ has come, Paul implies that despite the fact that Satan knows his is a lost cause, the evil one is nonetheless staging a last, desperate, but ultimately doomed attempt at domination. The Holy Spirit has been poured out on all flesh, restraining evil enough so that the gospel has the power to turn people “from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith…” (Acts 26:18). Conversely, there has also been released “a mystery of lawlessness” to oppose the gospel. Paul sees history unfolding as a great contest between these forces. 

At some point in the future, according to today’s reading, Paul expects the “mystery of lawlessness” to be consolidated or crystalized in a “man of lawlessness,” who, in the mysterious patience of God, will receive demonically deceptive power to perform miracles, and who will have the audacity to declare himself to be God. For twenty centuries since Paul’s letter, Christians have witnessed various figures and movements that correspond to aspects of this “mystery” and this “man.” Still, the end is yet to come. When it comes, Paul seems to say, we will know it’s here—precisely because that’s when “the Lord Jesus will destroy [him] by the breath of his mouth, annihilating him by the manifestation of his coming” (2 Thessalonians 2:8). 

That future victory is part of what we celebrate at each week’s Eucharistic feast. And the certainty of Christ’s future victory over everything evil is why Paul can conclude today’s epistle reading this way:

Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word (2 Thessalonians 3:16-17). 

I pray you live in that comfort and strength today. 

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+

Safe and Protected - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 5/2/2024 •

Thursday of the 5th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 70; Psalm 71; Leviticus 19:26-37; 2 Thessalonians 1:1-12; Matthew 6:25-34

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 8 (“The Song of Moses,” Exodus 15, BCP, p. 85); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)

Some brief musings on today’s Psalm 71, highlighted by wisdom from Matthew 6. 

The compilers of the Psalter arranged the 150 songs into five “books,” probably to mirror in rough fashion the structure of the five books of Moses. The second book of the Psalter has Psalm 71 as its next to last psalm. Most of David’s own psalms lie within the Psalter’s first two “books” (Psalms 1-41 and Psalms 42-72).  For the most part, Psalms 1-71 are songs that recall King David’s trust in the midst of trials. The editors of the Psalter crowned David’s psalms with today’s lovely Psalm 71, although this one is not specifically attributed to David.

Composed by an old man who sees his life following a pattern like David’s, this anonymous psalm-writer has experienced similar deliverances (some of the imagery of this psalm mirrors Psalm 22). Like David, he plays the lyre. Like David, he determines to close out his life on a note of thankful praise. He wants to bequeath to the next generation a legacy of faithfulness and hope.  

And now that I am old and gray-headed, O God, do not forsake me, till I make known your strength to this generation and your power to all who are to come. — Psalm 71:18. It’s wonderful that the Bible has room for a psalm like Psalm 71. It’s kind of an “old person’s” psalm. Its composer has had a long walk with the Lord, but now feels his strength ebbing: “Forsake me not when my strength fails” (verse 9b). It’s important to know this psalm is here, even for a young person, even if, for now, it’s going to get filed away for later. The day will come when the fear of being “cast off in my old age” becomes real (verse 9a). 

Image: Pixabay

And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? … So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today. — Matthew 6:27, 34. “Be not therefore anxious for the morrow: for the morrow will be anxious for itself” is how an older version renders the middle part of this saying of Jesus. There is an artfulness here that I relish. I can almost see the perceptive semi-smile on Jesus’s face as he says it, especially the punchline: “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Jesus is telling us to take ourselves less seriously, and instead to take more seriously the Lord’s ability to handle our troubles infinitely better than we could ever handle them ourselves. I’m grateful for the soft reminder. Meanwhile, he says, we can pay attention to the things that matter to him: “Seek first the kingdom,” (then to paraphrase) “and by the way, when you do that, all the other stuff you’ve been worrying about, it’ll get taken care of too.” 

There’s a sense in which the Psalms are a blueprint for how to handle the things that create fear within us. David, and this Psalmist, continue to imagine themselves—safe and protected—within a strong and formidable castle, against which outside enemies cannot prevail. Their unwavering trust in God—for protection, for justice, for consolation, and for joy—is the wondrous result of a long relationship of seeking the one who is the kingdom. Jesus says to us, “Bring it to me. Bring it all to me. I’ve got this.”

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

Instruction on the "So What?" - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Wednesday • 5/1/2024 •

Wednesday of the 5th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 72; Leviticus 19:1-18; 1 Thessalonians 5:12-28; Matthew 6:19-24

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 11 (“The Third Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 60:1–3,11a,14c,18–19, BCP, p. 87);  following the Epistle reading, Canticle 16 (“The Song of Zechariah,” Luke 1:68–79, BCP, p. 92)

Leviticus is a closed book to too many people. That’s not as it should be. Eastertide is a season for instruction on the “So what?” of Easter, and these chapters from Leviticus are valuable for just that. Yesterday, we saw that Yahweh has dealt with sin by covering it and by removing it. Now, as a result, the Lord proclaims his people “holy,” which means “set apart” for relationship with himself. He says that because he is holy they are to be holy as well (Leviticus 19:2), and he shows them what that looks like.

Image: Stained Glass, Cathedral Church of Saint Luke, Orlando, FL

Holiness in worship. The people’s holiness means their worship does not look like that of the surrounding world. The Lord’s people have their own way of measuring time: the Sabbath. They don’t make images of Yahweh. To do so would make him look just like the deities that surrounding cultures imagine for themselves. The Lord invites his people to commune with him in feasts of “well-being,” but on his terms, not theirs (Leviticus 19:5-8). Unlike peoples they encounter, they don’t try to curry favor with their deity by selling their daughters to perform sacred sexual rites (Leviticus 19:29, from tomorrow’s reading). 

Holiness in life. The people’s holiness means they differ too in the way they treat one another. The way of the world seems to be: “I will treat you the way you treat me.” Yahweh’s way is: “Treat one another the way I have treated you.” He summarizes his approach at the end of tomorrow’s reading: “You shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God” (Leviticus 19:34). The shorthand is: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” It means, for instance, that all the profit from my labors do not belong to me—a portion belongs to “the poor and the alien,” those who live under conditions like the slavery I endured in Egypt. It also means that my neighbor deserves truthfulness from me in my interpersonal dealings with them—even when that means I have to tell them they are wrong (Leviticus 19:17). And Yahweh’s justice system is “neither partial to the little man nor overawed by the great” (Leviticus 19:15 Jerusalem Bible). 

For the Lord, the ritual and the ethical support one another, and so he instructs us: “Be holy” and “love your neighbor.”

The coming King. Give the King your justice, O God, and your righteousness to the King’s Son; that he may rule your people righteously and the poor with justice.  — Psalm 72:1. Israel’s hopes remained focused on the coming of a King who would rule justly, make Israel a showcase for God’s kind intentions towards the poor and the distressed, and cause the nations to bow before him and “do him service.” Solomon’s psalm captures a moment in Israel’s life when a measure of that hope was being realized. And Christians have always seen here a prefiguring of the coming of Christ. Thus, the splendid hymn text by Isaac Watts (Hymnal 1982, no. 544): 

Jesus shall reign where’er the sun
doth his successive journey run;
his kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
till moon shall wax and wane no more. 

To him shall endless prayer be made,
and praises throng to crown his head;
his Name like sweet perfume shall rise
with every morning sacrifice.

People and realms of every tongue
dwell on his love with sweetest song;
and infant voices shall proclaim
their early blessings on his Name.

Blessings abound where’er he reigns:
the prisoners leap to lose their chains,
the weary find eternal rest,
and all who suffer want are blest. 

Let every creature rise and bring
peculiar honors to our King;
angels descend with songs again,
and earth repeat the loud amen. 

Collect for the Fifth Sunday of Easter. Almighty God, whom truly to know is everlasting life: Grant us so perfectly to know your Son Jesus Christ to be the way, the truth, and the life, that we may steadfastly follow his steps in the way that leads to eternal life; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+

Peace Between God and Us - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 4/30/2024 •

Tuesday of the 5th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 61; Psalm 62; Leviticus 16:20-34; 1 Thessalonians 5:1-11; Matthew 6:7-15

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 13 (“A Song of Praise,” BCP, p. 90);following the Epistle reading, Canticle 18 (“A Song to the Lamb,” Revelation 4:11; 5:9–10, 13, BCP, p. 93)

In the most dramatic fashion imaginable, in its description of the Day of Atonement, Leviticus 16 demonstrates how God deals with our sin: he covers it, and then he removes it.

In the first half of the chapter (yesterday’s reading), the key word is “cover” (Hebrew, ḵipper). The rendering into English as “atonement” masks the more literal imagery at the heart of the “Yom Kippur,” “The Day of Covering.” The cloud of incense provides a covering of protection as the High Priest makes his annual entrance into the Holy of Holies “or he will die” (Leviticus 16:13). He sprinkles blood on the “mercy seat” (Hebrew, hakkappōreṯ, lit., “place of covering”) which is atop the altar. And then he “covers” the altar itself by sprinkling it and putting blood on its horns, whereby it is “cleansed” and “made holy from the sinfulness of the people” (Leviticus 16:19). The Greek translation of the Hebrew “cover” (ḵipper) is exilaskesthai. At the Greek word’s root is hileōs, or “happy, gracious, satisfied.” The understanding is that the covering of the altar with blood makes satisfaction for sin, provides peace between God and us, and turns his righteous wrath into a gracious smile. 

In the second half of the chapter (today’s reading), we see the other side of what God does with our sin. First he covers it. Now he removes it. 

Image: Adaptation, Pixabay

The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to a barren region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness. … [O]n this day atonement shall be made for you, to cleanse you; from all your sins you shall be clean before the Lord. — Leviticus 16:22, 30

The main thing the High Priest does in today’s reading is to lay hands on a goat, confessing the people’s sins and symbolically “putting them on the head of the goat” (Leviticus 16:21). He then releases the goat into the wilderness—i.e., away from the people’s presence. Then the carcasses of the animals that had been slain in the “covering” sacrifices are burned “outside the camp”—i.e., away from the people’s presence. (See the New Testament corollary at Hebrews 13:12-13).

And the people are told to take sabbath-rest. It’s a wonderful picture of the heart of sabbath. Sin has been taken care of. Its guilt and shame are gone. There’s peace, and the freedom to rest in contented joy. Rather than an odious obligation, sabbath-keeping is the greatest of privileges—“you…shall do no work, neither the citizen nor the alien who resides among you. For on this day atonement shall be made for you, to cleanse you; from all your sins you shall be clean before the Lord” (Leviticus 16:29b-30). 

Takeaways:

First, as to the covering of sin. No matter how much we tell ourselves God is loving and that his “property is always to have mercy,” I don’t suppose there are any of us who don’t harbor deep fears that God doesn’t like us. Maybe we think we’ve done something so beyond the pale, so shameful that he can’t forgive it, and must turn his back on us. Or maybe we fear he is so petty as to be looking for excuses to reject us—for the slightest peccadillo, the most trivial misstep. 

The first takeaway then, for me at least, is to assure myself that whatever stands between the holiness of God and me, he has covered by the blood of his Son. Whatever wrath I deserved has been satisfied. My fears created an angry dictator-God. But the reality is the opposite. The true God, in his mercy, sent his beloved Son. I can confidently say to my soul what my friend Steve Brown is so fond of saying: “God’s not mad at you any more.”

Second, regarding the removal of sin. The psalmist exultantly sings, “[A]s far as the east is from the west, so far he removes our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12). I want to ask myself how I might think differently, live differently, and long differently, if I know that God has taken my sins far from me. So, I examine my own heart to detect vestiges of an old life that I am inclined to keep with me “in the camp,” so to speak—things that I need, with God’s help, to banish to the wilderness. 

I have questions to ask of my own soul. You have questions to ask of yours. These sinful holdovers aren’t who we are anymore. We can say good-bye to them. As far as God is concerned, they have already been sent away. They’ve been nailed to a cross “outside the city gate in order to sanctify” (Hebrews 13:13), and they no longer have any claim to us, or power over us (see Romans 6). We can let them go. 

Collect for Purity. Almighty God, to you all hearts are open, all desires known, and from you no secrets are hid: Cleanse the thoughts of our hearts by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit, that we may perfectly love you, and worthily magnify your holy Name; through Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

That You May Not Grieve as Others Do - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Monday • 4/29/2024 •

Monday of the 5th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 56; Psalm 57; Psalm 58; Leviticus 16:1-19; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 6:1-6,16-18

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 9 (“The First Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 12:2–6, BCP, p. 86); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)

When death comes, it presses down hard. I feel it in my bones whether I’m at the funeral of a son or daughter taken too soon, or a person in their 90s who’s lived a “good long life.” And in our world, so many deaths … from the scourge of a worldwide pandemic, from violence in our streets and homes, from the unleashing of the dogs of war, from tornados and fires and floods and famine. Each death has happened to a unique, irreplaceable bearer of God’s image. Each death leaves a trail of grief. With death hanging in the air all about us, as it has since Cain killed Abel, it’s heartening to see Scripture face death’s reality head on.  

We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died, so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. — 1 Thessalonians 4:13. By the time Paul writes to the Thessalonians, it’s the A.D. 50s. Two decades have passed since Jesus’s resurrection, ascension, and promise to return. Loved ones have died. People are wondering about what has happened to their dead spouses, children, parents, friends. And people are wondering about whether, in fact, the Lord will return. 

Image: Pixabay

Paul writes this paragraph to assure believers of five things:

First, the very same Jesus who lived on earth, died, rose, and ascended to heaven will indeed return to this earth. In the next paragraph (tomorrow’s reading) and in 2 Thessalonians, Paul will say more about the when and the how—more about that from me when we get to 2 Thessalonians. 

Second, those who have died will not be at any disadvantage when Christ returns. In fact, they will have the privilege of being gathered first: “The dead in Christ will rise first.” There’s a mystery here. The point is, the Bible offers this comfort: there is both an ongoing present for those who have died in Christ, as well as a genuine future. In another letter, Paul opens the window the tiniest bit on to what’s going on now with his followers who have died. As he contemplates the prospect of his own death, the apostle says: “To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord,” and that that would be “far better” (Philippians 1:23). Elsewhere, the New Testament opens the window just a little wider, indicating that those who have died in Christ make up a heavenly “cloud of witnesses” cheering us on in our race, even as they cry out to the Lord on behalf of the church down here, “How long, O Lord?” (Hebrews 12:1; Revelation 6:10).  

Third, those who, at the time of Christ’s return, are still living on the earth (“who are left”) will go second. They will be “caught up” (commonly referred to as “the rapture” — 1 Thessalonians 4:17).

Fourth, at that time all of us—those who will have already died, and those “who are left” and who will have been “caught up”—together will form Christ’s triumphant company in his final, glorious victory over death. (Paul offers more perspective on that conquest in 1 Corinthians 15; as does John in Revelation 19-20.) 

Fifth, Paul would have us encourage one another with these words. Our grief over the loss of loved ones in Christ is real. We miss them acutely, and achingly wish they were still with us. But our grief is filled with hope. We know that those whom Christ has taken to himself are truly in a “far better” place. What is more, we know that the day is coming when, reunited with them, we will witness Christ deliver the final death blow to death itself. 

Until then, especially when the memory of those you’ve lost is sharp and presses in upon you, I pray you find further comfort in this collect from the BCP (pp. 255, 395):

Almighty God, by your Holy Spirit you have made us one with your saints in heaven and on earth: Grant that in our earthly pilgrimage we may always be supported by this fellowship of love and prayer, and know ourselves to be surrounded by their witness to your power and mercy. We ask this for the sake of Jesus Christ, in whom all our intercessions are acceptable through the Spirit, and who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen.

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+