Thinking Large - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Today’s Daily Devotions with the Dean is the last one. My tenure as Dean of the Cathedral ends this weekend. So, the Devotions will go away, hopefully to return in a complete, updated form at a future date. It’s been an honor to share these mornings with you since we began these postings at the beginning of the COVID era. Abundant blessings, Reggie.

Friday • 5/29/2026 •

We’ll be thinking through various facets of worship and how our Lord provides meaningful communion with him through our formal corporate worship as well as in individual worship in our daily devotions. The thoughts offered here are excerpts from articles I wrote for Worship Leader magazine a few years ago.   

Sing a Widescreen, HD Paradise 

I am unutterably grateful when a Christian artist enables me to see spiritual reality in widescreen, high-definition. Ephrem the Syrian, a brilliant hymn writer for his era (ca. 306-373), does that for me. His lyrics – especially his Hymns on Paradise– still captivate.  

The beauties (of Paradise) are much diminished  
by being depicted in the pale colors  
with which you are familiar.* 

* All quotations from Ephrem are in Ephrem & Sebastian Brock, St. Ephrem: Hymns on Paradise (St. Vladimirs Seminary Press, 1998).

Sing the Power of Metaphor 

Ephrem trumpeted the mystery of Christ’s incarnation. He resisted the demands of those who “over thought” the faith. They insisted on a straightforward explanation of Christ’s person, one that fit normal categories of reason: God or Man? Which is it?  

One group wanted to make Christ just like us, merely human. OK, maybe not merely human, but certainly more human than divine. A different group wanted to make Christ so divine that his humanity was nothing more than apparent – “drive-by” at best.  

Ephrem’s response: God doesn’t give us neat, tidy definitions. Instead, he provides a profound relationship with Someone the Bible describes in elegant metaphors and similes: 

[God] clothed Himself in language, 
so that he might clothe us 
in his mode of life. 

In one place He was like an Old Man 
and the Ancient of Days, 
then again, He became like a Hero, 
a valiant Warrior. 
For the purpose of judgment He was an Old Man, 
but for conflict He was Valiant. 

Grace clothed itself in our likeness 
in order to bring us to the likeness of itself. 

He gave us divinity, 
We gave him humanity. 

Sing the Whole of the Human Story 

Ephrem celebrated the scale and sweep of Christ’s mission. He refused the heresy of mystical Narcissism. Back then, many were looking for a personal experience of “mystery,” just a little spiritual “somethin’ somethin” to help them get through. Today their spiritual descendants turn to Jesus as some sort of “rabbit’s foot,” a personal avatar they can enlist to make their lives (of which they remain firmly in control) turn out better.   

To counteract the spiritual Narcissism of his day, Ephrem wrote his Hymns of Paradise against a backdrop that includes the whole of the human story. My salvation comes with everybody else’s; everybody else’s includes mine. Thus (though it rather stretches the actual biblical text), Ephrem built on Hellenistic Jewish notions about Adam’s name coming from a Greek acrostic:  

“A” (Anatolē = East)  
“D” (Dusis = West)  
“A” (Arktos = North)  
“M” (Mesēmbria = South).  

[God’s] hand took from every quarter  
and created Adam, 
so has he now been scattered in every quarter… 
For progression is from the universe to Adam, 
and then from him to the universe.  

The old Adam is all of us (“from the universe to Adam”); the new Adam came for all of us (“from him to the universe”). For this reason, Christ’s followers come from all quarters of the globe and our mission is to go to all quarters of the globe.  

Sing the Whole of Christ’s Work 

And while then as now, many well-meaning believers whittle down Jesus’s work to one manageable dimension, Ephrem challenged believers to think large so they can thank large.  

Thus, Ephrem sings redemption’s story across a wide canvas: from original Paradise to a new, pristine Paradise. From the loss of Adam and Eve’s original “Robe of Glory,” to the Second Adam’s “putting on the body” from Mary, to His laying the “Robe of Glory” for us in Jordan’s baptismal waters, to our “putting on Christ” in our baptism, and finally to our being “Robed in Glory” at resurrection. Ephrem sings that the angel’s sword barring us from the Tree of Life becomes a centurion’s lance opening the way into Paradise:   

Whereas we had left that Garden 
along with Adam, as he left it behind, 
now that the sword has been removed by the lance,  
we may return there. 

Sing Widescreen, HD 

At the invention of the small-screen, black and white, low-definition television, who could have imagined today’s widescreen, color, HD home theatre systems? Today’s experience makes yesterday’s seem, to use Ephrem the Syrian’s terms, “diminished” and “pale” by comparison.  

Ephrem offers us a glimpse into a reality that “has come” and “is coming” where the colors are even more vibrant and the definition even sharper than we’ve yet begun to imagine.  

May God grant the grace to grow in our capacity to worship in yet bolder colors, more vibrant textures, sweeter sounds, and sharper shapes. The reality is that good.  

Be blessed this day,  

Reggie Kidd+ 

Happy Little Trees - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 5/28/2026 •

We’re taking a detour from the Daily Office readings for a few days. Instead, we’ll be thinking through various facets of worship and how our Lord provides meaningful communion with him through our formal corporate worship as well as in individual worship in our daily devotions. The thoughts offered here are excerpts from articles I wrote for Worship Leader magazine a few years ago.   

“Happy Little Trees” 

On her birthday Meg’s husband told her he didn’t love her and wasn’t sure he ever had. Seven months after the divorce became final, he married his girlfriend. By a happy coincidence Meg was out of town visiting my family the day of her ex-husband’s wedding.  

How to spend that day? We discovered that the late Bob Ross, host and star of the TV show  The Joy of Painting, had established a teaching studio in nearby New Smyrna Beach, FL. His students still teach people how to paint “happy little trees.” The promise was that in a 3-hour session we could learn the basics, and each student would walk away with a personally completed work of art. We signed up for a class. 

Image: "Bob Ross FD3S" by zanthrax-dot-nl is licensed under CC BY 2.0 

It was amazingly fun. We happened to sit on the back row. We couldn’t help but notice the two teenage girls in front of us who didn’t fit the middle-class profile of most of the people in the room. They were accompanied by someone who carried herself like a softer version of SNL’s “church lady.” Nobody in the class was having more fun, or experiencing more delighted surprise, at what was showing up on canvas, than these girls.  

At the end of the class, we were all given the opportunity to pay a little extra to have our paintings framed – right there on the spot. Who wouldn’t want to do that after discovering they could actually paint something not just recognizable, but really kind of cool?!  

I failed to catch the wistfulness on the two girls’ faces as they watched classmates’ paintings being framed. But Meg noticed. Quietly, she asked the proprietor if she could pay for the girls’ frames. Stunned, he obliged. The girls were thrilled.  

My throat tightened. I knew that Meg’s divorce had strained her in every way, financially as well as emotionally. Yet as deep as the sorrow she carried within her was, her spiritual resources were deeper. On a day in which she could have nursed bitterness, she created joy for someone else.  

Meg’s act was horizontal worship. The Gospel changes us from self-centered to other-centered. Vertical worship teaches people that they are profoundly loved; the bread and wine that they take in makes them different people. As theologian Alexander Schmemann quips: “At this meal we become what we eat.” That day Meg did a lot more than paint “happy little trees.” She became bread and wine to two girls, a shop owner – and me.  

Be blessed this day,  

Reggie Kidd+ 

We Need a Change of Clothes - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Wednesday • 5/27/2026 •

We’re taking a detour from the Daily Office readings for a few days. Instead, we’ll be thinking through various facets of worship and how our Lord provides meaningful communion with him through our formal corporate worship as well as in individual worship in our daily devotions. The thoughts offered here are excerpts from articles I wrote for Worship Leader magazine a few years ago.   

Undressed for Church 

Jesus tells a parable about a man who accepts a king’s invitation to a wedding banquet but who shows up without clothes appropriate to the occasion (Matthew 22:11-14). Noticed by the king, he is kicked out.  

Whenever I read the parable, I think of myself in the early and woefully immature days of my faith – and of how my first pastor, Mort Whitman, related to me. I think of the several times I sensed in Mort’s sad eyes the King’s expectation: “Do you understand Who invited you? And to what an amazing occasion it is that you have been invited?” There were both sadness and tenderness — both a rebuke and a further invitation — in Mort’s gaze.  

Room to Grow 

Every time I caught that look, I felt undressed, and was reduced (as was the fellow in the parable) to silence. Unlike the parable, though, strong arms didn’t grab me and throw me out. Happily, the King gave me time and space to move from a sullen to a teachable silence. Over time, the kindness with which Mort’s eyes answered my spiritual childishness melted my cold heart. 

Mort welcomed me past the entrance, and into the expansive living spaces of God’s Kingdom palace. He did so by reminding me of the worth of the faith that I had embraced – or that had embraced me (I’ve never fully sorted that out).   

Early Church 

Mort’s method was a lot like that of Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem (mid-4th century). In Cyril’s Jerusalem, becoming a Christian was the “deal.” The huge and elegant Church of the Holy Sepulchre had just been built over the site of Jesus’s crucifixion and resurrection (replacing a pagan temple to Venus).  

The city was awash with pilgrims and new residents. Many were flirting with the faith. Many sought baptism, the prerequisite for inclusion at the Christian Feast (Communion). Some sought baptism because they genuinely believed; some because they thought baptism might help them get a job; some because they thought baptism might help them find a mate; and some out of sheer curiosity.  

Cyril asked candidates for baptism a cautionary question: “Do you expect to see without being seen? Do you think that you can be curious about what is going on without God being curious about your heart?” (Procatechesis 2).*  

This is not just any occasion, so not any old clothes will do. The One in whose honor this feast is being held, after all, is “Bridegroom of souls.” Cyril reminds the candidates of the parable of the man who dressed wrongly for the king’s wedding feast: “If your soul is dressed in avarice, change your clothes before you come in…. Take off fornication and impurity, and put on the shining white garment of chastity.”  

Overdressed 

Cyril wasn’t asking people to clean themselves up so God would accept them. As they would eventually discover, no matter what they wore, on the day of their baptism they were going to have to strip – yes, literally (in the dark, men and women separately) — and undergo baptism without benefit of any clothing! As Christ hung naked in his crucifixion, Cyril explained, so we go naked into the baptismal waters where we share our co-crucifixion with Christ. As Adam and Eve were originally garbed in nothing but their innocence, so, in Christ, we rise as those to whom innocence has been restored! Cyril’s message was: don’t think you can take your greed and impurity with you into the baptismal waters; he loves you too much to let you hold on to that stuff! 

When the newly baptized emerged naked from the waters, they were wrapped with new, white robes. The message: in place of whatever clothes we start with, Christ offers “a shining garment,” “the garment of salvation,” and “the tunic of gladness.”** The newly baptized wore those robes during the next week, when they received daily teaching about the mysteries they had just experienced and about the baptized life that now lay before them.  

Welcome to Transformation 

The King has sent for everybody, “the evil and the good” (Matthew 22:10). But the One who invites insists on meddling. He refuses to rubber-stamp the attitudes, behaviors, and beliefs we bring with us. Our “Bridegroom of souls” insists we surrender the right to define who we are – all of who we are: our occupational, our musical, our political, our sexual selves. Jesus, insists Cyril, calls us to welcome people all the way into baptismal waters, where grace transforms everything.  

My take-away from Mort’s penetrating gaze and Cyril’s challenging words: worship worthy of the Feast is welcoming worship that helps us all understand that a change of clothes will be necessary.  

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+ 

* References are from Edward Yarnold, S.J., Cyril of Jerusalem (Routledge, 2000), pp. 79,80,85,180-181. 

** (Procatechesis 16; Mystagogy 4.8; the latter two phrases, quoting Isaiah 61:10) 

The Peace of the Lord - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 5/26/2026 •

We’re taking a detour from the Daily Office readings for a few days. Instead, we’ll be thinking through various facets of worship and how our Lord provides meaningful communion with him through our formal corporate worship as well as in individual worship in our daily devotions. The thoughts offered here are excerpts from articles I wrote for Worship Leader magazine a few years ago.   

High-Touch Worship: “The Peace of the Lord” 

“Christian worship has always been a “high-touch” affair. “Greet one another with a holy kiss,” Paul told worshipers (2 Corinthians 13:12). Peter urged those gathered for the reading of his letter, “Greet one another with the kiss of love” (1 Peter 5:14). Accordingly, from the 2nd century on we find Christians exchanging signs of mutual affection and reconciliation before they go to the Table.  

I think that’s a good thing.   

There’s a genuine artistry to the way the classical liturgy makes the passing of the peace a part of worship. In the 4th century one of the great voices of the ancient church, Cyril of Jerusalem, explained why believers exchange a kiss of peace just before they approach the Lord’s Table.  

Next let us embrace one another and give the kiss of peace. Do not think this is the kiss which friends are accustomed to give one another when they meet in the marketplace. This is not such a kiss. This unites souls to one another and destroys all resentment. The kiss is a sign of the union of souls.  

That was Awkward.  

Recently, an advice columnist responded to a complaint about being forced to greet fellow attendees in church. The columnist countered that in a world as disjointed as ours, we should be grateful that the church tries to bring people together. I agree! But I also feel the sense of artificiality and of being put upon when there’s a “meet & greet” that is no different than what I might experience at the Chamber of Commerce.  

To me it’s a wonderful thing to be asked to look my neighbor full in the face and wish him or her Christ’s peace. That makes me (along with all my fellow believers) a priest who offers God’s healing touch. Respectfully, though, it’s a turn-off to be told to smile, turn to the person next to me and say, essentially, “How ya doin’?”  

The first act invites Christ into the moment and makes us family; the second makes two awkward strangers even more awkward about not knowing each other. At least the Chamber of Commerce encourages us to exchange business cards.  

Welcoming Peace 

When I coached Little League, a friend and “master coach” gave me some good advice: “Kids this age have too many challenges, and not enough encouragement. Every practice you should go to each player, put a hand on their shoulder, look them in the eyes, and say, ‘I’m glad you’re on this team. You make a big difference for us.’”  

When I come to worship I never know what sort of pain my neighbor is in, how much it can help him or her to be touched and to be reminded: whatever the deficit, whatever the enmity, whatever the trouble, whatever the funk, Christ speaks his peace into it.   

Healing Peace  

Benjamin Barber writes that we live in a world split between the centripetal force of McWorld (the forced unification of a global market) and the centrifugal force of Jihad (the fracturing of the human race around tribal loyalties). We all, I think, feel those wounds in one way or another.  

Followers of Christ believe that if there’s any hope for overcoming the evil twin forces of McWorld and Jihad, it’s living and telling the subversive story of God’s invasion of the planet through his Son. In Jesus, as the song goes, “Heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love.” When we pass the peace of Christ to one another, heaven’s peace becomes embodied once again. Then at the Table we taste how Jesus even now “unites souls to one another and destroys all resentment.” 

Possible applications: 

Some of us are in churches where it might be worth opening up the following conversation: ”Are we so respectful of people’s privacy, of their personal space, that we miss the opportunity to let them know that this is a place – no, the place — where the lonely, the estranged, the fearful, and the broken, can be touched and can hear that God has come near to them?” 

Others of us are in churches where it might be worth opening up a different conversation: “When’s the last time we asked people to think about what a holy and healing thing it is that they do when they offer the Lord’s peace?” 

The peace of the Lord be always with you, 

Reggie Kidd+ 

Game-Saving Wisdom - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Monday • 5/25/2026 •

We’re taking a detour from the Daily Office readings for a few days. Instead, we’ll be thinking through various facets of worship and how our Lord provides meaningful communion with him through our formal corporate worship as well as in individual worship in our daily devotions. The thoughts offered here are excerpts from articles I wrote for Worship Leader magazine a few years ago.   

From Centerfield: Athanasius, the Psalms, and Making the Right Play 

I once attended a college baseball game in which the crowd cheered a spectacularly dumb throw from deep centerfield to home plate. The throw itself was quite a feat (though it had no chance of catching the runner). But it was dumb, because it gave the game away by allowing what would become the tying run to get to second base. What could have saved the game would have been a less impressive throw to second base, keeping that runner at first. 

Four Ecumenical Councils took place between A.D. 325 and 451. They exemplified game-saving wisdom, of the sort the college centerfielder should have shown. 

Those Councils made four statements in response to spectacularly dumb things that were being said about Christ. The Councils’ statements can be crisply put, and their implications are profound: first, Christ is fully divine, since only God can save. Second, Christ is fully human, since “only that which is assumed can be healed.” Third, Christ is one integral person, since a bi-polar Savior could not restore us to inner wholeness. Fourth, Christ’s divine nature does not eclipse his human nature, since he came to glorify our humanity and not diminish it. 

A small often overlooked letter on the psalms by Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria and one of the inspirers of the Councils’ statements, sheds light on the origins of such spiritual and theological insight. 

A friend named Marcellinus wrote to Athanasius looking for guidance on how to get to know the psalms better. In his response, Epistle to Marcellinus, Athanasius sounds the very themes the Councils will later apply to Christ. 

Divinity 

In the Incarnation, God has funneled his fullness to us through one Man; in the Psalter, God has concentrated for us the whole Bible in miniature. Each of the other books, says Athanasius, “is like a garden which grows one special kind of fruit; by contrast, the Psalter is a garden which, besides its special fruit, grows also some of those of all the rest.” In Genesis, for example, we read about the creation; in Psalms 19 & 24 we celebrate creation in song. Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy recount the exodus from Egypt; in Psalms 87, 105, 106, and 114 we “fitly sing it.” Impressively, Athanasius shows how virtually every theme of the Bible shows up somewhere in the Psalter. Through the psalms, God’s great cosmic story becomes our personal story as well. 

Humanity 

The psalms aren’t just a way into God’s story; they provide a mirror for our soul. In them, “you learn about yourself.” They describe us better than we can describe ourselves. Moreover, while other portions of Scripture tell us what to do, the Psalter shows us how. Elsewhere, for instance, Scripture tells us to repent, but the psalms “show you how to set about repenting and with what words your repentance may be expressed.” Elsewhere, Scripture tells us to bear up under persecution, but the psalms describe “how afflictions should be borne, and what the afflicted ought to say, both at the time and when his troubles cease.” 

Integrity 

Most of us can identify with the horrible split the apostle Paul experienced between his inner self and his outer self: “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. … Wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:19,24). Paul’s answer, of course, is Christ. The Councils affirmed, therefore, that Christ himself was unified, rather than split, in his Person. Otherwise, there’d be no hope for the splits within us. In the same vein, Athanasius encourages – no, urges – us not merely to read the psalms, but to sing them. When we sing, our inner being and our outer being work together: our “usual disharmony of mind and corresponding bodily confusion is resolved.” The result is that when we sing psalms, Christ heals our inner brokenness. 

Dignity 

Do you get the sense that some believers think that when Christ comes into their lives he replaces their souls? Do you know spiritual zombies you can’t even have a conversation with because all you get is Bible verses or spiritual clichés? 

Athanasius must have known people like that too. One of the most impressive things he does in his epistle is comment on almost every psalm, and invite Marcellinus to look – really look – at whatever life-situation he might find himself in and ask how that psalm could fortify him: “Has some Goliath risen up against the people and yourself? Fear not, but trust in God, as David did, and sing his words in Psalm 144.” 

The message: God wishes to meet you in your life, not give you some sort of escape button to get you out of your life. The psalms – like Christ himself – are here to enhance, not diminish, what it is to be fully human. 

Through practice and scrimmage and games and, well, simply breathing baseball, a centerfielder should know where to throw, without even having to think about it. Through worship and prayer and study and, well, simple immersion in the faith of the psalms, may we absorb their “game-saving wisdom.” 

Be blessed this day,  

Reggie Kidd+  

Because He... - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Friday • 5/22/2026 •

Friday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 102; Jeremiah 31:27-34; Ephesians 5:1-20; Matthew 9:9-17

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)

“Follow me.”— Matthew 9:9. Jesus commands, and Matthew simply obeys. Why does Matthew follow him? Our passage provides but an indirect hint. Matthew is a tax collector. He is therefore reckoned among “the sinners” by “the righteous” (Matthew 9:11). He is among those who recognize they are sick, and in need of a physician (Matthew 9:12-13)—that they are worn out by life, and need to be made new (Matthew 9:14-17). 

What makes me follow Jesus? I see some of myself in Matthew. In addition, our readings today give me ample reason to follow. 

Because he is God. — Hebrews 1:10-12 is a direct quote of Psalm 102:25-27 (from today’s psalm): “But you are the same, and your years will never end.” In Psalm 102, these verses anchor the psalmist’s hope “in the day of my trouble” (see verse 1). His troubles come from enemies (v. 8), from his recognition of God’s indignation at his sin (v. 10), from his feeling of homelessness (v. 17), and from a creeping fear of death (vv. 11, 24). With verses 25-27, the psalmist places his destiny in the hands of the Lord who is eternal. 

The fascinating thing is that in Hebrews these verses conclude the writer’s argument that Jesus is God. Psalm 102 affirms the eternality and the deity of Jesus Christ, says the writer to the Hebrews. And whether Matthew the tax collector realized it in that moment when Jesus told him “Follow me,” or whether it dawned on him over time, he came to see it as well. Matthew’s Gospel is the one that tells us that Jesus’s name means Emmanuel, “God with us.” 

So, with Matthew, I follow Jesus because he is God. 

Because he makes sin go away.  Jeremiah speaks of a new covenant that’s not like the old covenant. The old covenant, announced on Mt. Sinai and engraved on tablets of stone, did more to convict people of their sin than it did to mold them into the kingdom of priests they were called to be. The old covenant relied on sacrifice after sacrifice to provide covering for sin after sin. Jeremiah looks to a new covenant that brings the law’s work into the human heart where it can produce transformation, not just demand it. The premise of that new covenant is one single sacrifice that finally cleanses consciences once and for all. That sacrifice, in addition, gives God a sort of holy amnesia: “I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more” (Jeremiah 31:34; Hebrews 8:12). 

Image: Pixabay

Did Matthew catch a glimpse of that hope when Jesus told him “Follow me”? Who knows? But by the time he wrote his Gospel he definitely did! Of the three Gospel accounts of the institution of the Last Supper, it is Matthew’s alone that echoes the amazing scene in Exodus 24, when the elders saw Moses take blood from the sacrificed oxen, dash it on the people, and say, “See, the blood of the covenant which the Lord has made with you…” (Exodus 24:8). Matthew alone recalls Jesus speaking of the sacrifice he was about to make as “my blood of the covenant” (Matthew 26:28). As the writer to the Hebrews makes clear: the one last sacrifice to end all sacrifice, by clearing all sin and covering all transgression once and for all: “For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified” (Hebrews 10:14, and context).

So, with Matthew, I follow Jesus because he has dealt with sin—and my sin—for good. 

Because he breathes life into the deadness of my being. “But be filled with the Spirit,” says the apostle Paul in Ephesians 5:18. Sin taken care of, transformation can take place. Transformation occurs when the Spirit who raised him from the dead and who now resides in us breathes fresh life into us. The breath of the Spirit draws us out of the walking sleep-death of “fornication, impurity, greed (which is idolatry),” and into the robustness of wise living, thanksgiving, praise, and above all, love. How ironic that this new life is the opposite of pursuits that people undertake in the name of freedom, fulfillment, and fun. The Bible characterizes those pursuits as representing a coma of sorts: an internal deadness, a lack of awareness of being truly and vibrantly alive, of being incapable of understanding the authentic nature of love. 

Christ lives in us now! He’s writing God’s law on our hearts by the Spirit! He ushers us from the darkness of spiritual stupor and into the light of full awakening! “‘Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you’” (Ephesians 5:14). Perhaps Matthew did, or perhaps he didn’t, immediately sense the newness of life offered in Jesus’s “Follow me.” But at some point, he did come to understand (because he wrote about it) that Jesus was refashioning him into a new wineskin so that he could be a vessel of the new wine of new life (Matthew 9:17). 

So, I follow Jesus because, with Matthew, I choose newness over senescence. I choose life over death. I choose being awake over being in perpetual torpor. I choose the breath of the Spirit over the sour aftertaste of mere amusement. 

May you, this day, follow Jesus—and in following him, may you know his divine protection, may you revel in the forgiveness he has won for you, and may you breathe in the fresh wind of his Spirit. 

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

A Different Kind of People - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 5/21/2026 •

Thursday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 105:1-22; Zechariah 4:1-14; Ephesians 4:17-32; Matthew 9:1-8

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 Moss,” Exodus 15, BCP, p. 85); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)

A Priest and a King: A feature of the book of Zechariah is the expectation that after the exile, Israel will be rebuilt and ruled by a priest and a king. Zechariah looks forward to a messianic age where the high priest Joshua, son of Jehozadak, and the future king Zerubbabel (“a man whose name is Branch”) will rule together in peace. One can’t help but think of the book of Hebrews, where Jesus is described as prophet, priest, and king.  (If you’d like to read further in Zechariah, chapters 8 and 9 describe the reign of the victorious yet humble Messiah who rides into Jerusalem on a donkey—see especially Zechariah 9:9)

Zechariah prophesies that the Temple will be rebuilt, and Jerusalem will be refortified. As mentioned in yesterday’s devotional, Zechariah and other prophets of the time understand that the glory of the second temple, however, will not match that of the first temple that Solomon built. But Zechariah says that these “small beginnings” (Zechariah 4:10 NET) are not to be despised. 

Israel’s stature among the nations—even at the height of Solomon’s reign with its massive building projects and extensive alliances—never depended on military prowess or political sagacity. The reality was always, as Zechariah puts it here: “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of hosts” (Zechariah 4:6). 

That’s a word to remember in good times, and in bad. When things flourish, it’s by God’s Spirit. And when things appear to be in decline, his Spirit is still at work—for those who have eyes to see.

Image: Pixabay

A different kind of people. The apostle Paul had to contend with “small beginnings,” as well. Christian believers in Ephesus represented a tiny percent of the population of one of the Roman Empire’s larger and more robust cities. Ephesus was marked, according to Paul, by hardness of heart toward the things of God. He describes the city’s chief values as immorality, greed, deceit, anger, thievery. He calls upon Christ’s followers to be a colony, instead, of those who have “put away your former way of life, your old self, corrupt and deluded by its lusts, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:22-23). They are to live in such a way as to delight God, not grieve him; and to model a kindness and readiness to forgive exactly like the kindness and forgiveness that have been extended to them in Christ. 

We have our own world of bad actors, rudderless fellow citizens, childish leaders, megalomaniacal despots, and brutal authorities. 

We can be a different kind of people—especially now, in a world of new adjustments and changes, through our own personal small beginnings: small obediences, small courtesies, and small kindnesses. 

A Healer has come. Matthew’s account of the healing of the paralytic reminds us of three simple things: 1) at the bottom of all things that afflict us—from physical maladies to social breakdown—is the reality of sin and the curse on the creation God loves; 2) the one who has authority and power to forgive and heal is Jesus, who is both Son of God and Son of Man; and 3) we are here to help each other find the Healer: “some people were carrying a paralysed man lying on a bed. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Take heart, son…’” (Matthew 9:2). 

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

A Time for Hope Once More - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Wednesday • 5/20/2026 •

Wednesday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 101; Psalm 109; Isaiah 4:2-6; Ephesians 4:1-16; Matthew 8:28-34

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)

Desolation straight ahead! Isaiah foresees desolation for Jerusalem at the hand of an invading army. He foretells exile to an alien land for the city’s residents. But for the people of Yahweh, destruction is never the last word. In today’s Daily Office, Isaiah looks into the future in both Isaiah 4 (the reading) and Isaiah 60 (the canticle). 

In Isaiah 4, Isaiah looks beyond desolation and exile, to prophesy the rising of a beautiful and glorious “branch”—that is, a Messiah from the line of Jesse. Isaiah sees proud survivors finding the land fruitful once again. In this same chapter, Isaiah sees fire cleansing the metaphorical filth of Jerusalem’s streets, followed by a protective cloud hovering over the city’s Mt. Zion. Like the cloud that accompanied Israel in the exodus, this cloud gives shade from heat and refuge and shelter from storm and rain.

In Isaiah 60, the prophet calls upon his hearers to “arise” from the brokenness of their desolation, as the “glory of Yahweh” shines upon them and upon their city once again. On that day, the Branch of Yahweh will appear. Violence, ruin, and destruction will be no more. “Nations will stream to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawning.” Here is a preview of God’s plan for humankind: here is hope, not merely for Israel, but for the world.

Image: Pixabay

These prophecies received partial fulfillment when, at the behest of Persia, Israel enjoyed a return to the land following the Assyrian exile and Babylonian captivity. Ezra and Nehemiah undertook to rebuild the city’s defensive wall and the temple, although not at the scale of the original city. But, say the prophets of their day, this is reason enough to celebrate God’s kind favor and faithfulness: “For who dares make light of small beginnings?” (Zechariah 4:10 NET). The lesser rebuilding is itself a gift, a promise of something greater, and of God’s continued care for his people.

Centuries later, the “Branch”—Jesus Christ, Son of God and son of Jesse—appears. “And he said to [the demons], ‘Go!’” — Matthew 8:32. As the reading in Matthew demonstrates, he comes with power over all demonic forces as well as over nature, subject to corruption as it is. (Romans 8:18-23). God loves people. He loves each of us so much that he sent his only and eternal Son to become one of us, and to reconcile us—to restore us—to himself. Although damaged by the fall in Adam’s sin, creation—and we ourselves—await restoration and a greater “rebuilding.” With arms outstretched on a cross, Jesus offers himself as the means of that purgation of sin to which Isaiah alludes here in Isaiah 4:4 (a concept which he develops at length in his Song of the Suffering Servant: “the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all”—esp. Isaiah 53:6). Jesus offers himself not just to provide a perfect atonement for sin, but also therefore to secure a future hope of glory for those who trust him. 

Following the cross come the resurrection and ascension of Jesus. Then on the first Pentecost, as if in direct fulfillment of Isaiah’s visions, God’s glory cloud descends upon Mt. Zion, distributing tongues of fire—empowering the proclamation of a gospel that brings refining repentance and vivifying faith to wayward hearts. 

Paul’s letter to the Ephesians demonstrates the power of that gospel, as he urges Christ’s followers to “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called … Bear with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” —Ephesians 4:1-2. Paul is confident that Christ’s grace is strong enough to empower his church to “build itself up in love” (Ephesians 4:16). As that happens, the church becomes the visible manifestation of Pentecost power on the earth. God rebuilds, not a physical city with defensive walls, but an outward-facing, spiritual city, taking the good news of His love to the nations. 

Ours is a time for hope once more. Hope in the face of invading armies. Hope in the face of a poisoned political atmosphere. Hope in the face of revelations about human trafficking. Hope in the face of gun violence and intractable racial, ethnic, and economic cleavages. Hope in the face of opioid addiction. Hope in the face of personal failings and disappointments. The prophet Isaiah speaks hope even now, perhaps especially now.  We can know that God will not abandon us … ever. He loves you, and me, and he will not abandon us. 

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

The Lord Looks on the Heart - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 5/19/2026 •

Tuesday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 97; Psalm 99; 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Ephesians 3:14-21; Matthew 8:18-27

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)

This week’s readings in the Daily Office, particularly the Old Testament and the Epistle readings, highlight an amazing truth: Ascension and Pentecost together mean the re-centering of Christ’s ministry in two places at once: simultaneously at the Father’s right hand in body, and inside us and among us by the Holy Spirit. 

… but the Lord looks on the heart. — 1 Samuel 16:8. In today’s passage, it doesn’t matter that David’s family thinks him unworthy to be included in the gathering for Samuel’s visit. David, the boy shepherd, is fit to be the Lord’s king because, “the Lord looks on the heart,” What God sees is an earnest and courageous devotion to him. With the Lord’s anointing comes the power of the Holy Spirit: “Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward.” The power of the Spirit quickly becomes manifest as David defends God’s honor against the giant Goliath and the Philistine pagan deities.  

Image: Adaptation, "Leadership: strong but sensitive" by sniggie is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

While it is David’s heart that qualifies him to be king, it is the Spirit he receives from on high that empowers him to be king. This passage points forward to Jesus, who receives his own kingly (and priestly) anointing by the Holy Spirit, in the form of a descending dove. Following that anointing, Jesus undertakes a solitary journey into the wilderness. Here he begins the subjugation of Satan by resisting his temptations. Then Jesus begins his ministry of teaching the Kingdom and displaying his power by calming storms (as in today’s gospel reading), healing the sick, forgiving sins, restoring sight to the blind, and raising the dead. Praise to God for taking pleasure in the heart of his own Son, and for empowering him as he sets out to crush and destroy sin, death, and the devil for us. 

… I pray that … you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit … — Ephesians 3:16. Paul prays that Christ may dwell in our hearts by the Spirit, and there give us an overwhelming sense of his love for us—and thus we may “be filled with all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:19). What Paul prays for us here is almost audacious: that our hearts would be made like David’s, and that we might have the same inner assurance that Jesus did of being deeply and profoundly loved by our Heavenly Father. And that, therefore, we might abide in our own portion of the power of the same Holy Spirit as David and Jesus. 

I hope today’s passages in 1 Samuel, Matthew, and Ephesians will help you reflect on and marvel at Christ’s loving presence, by his Spirit, in the very core of your being. And that you might live—and grow—and thrive as the Holy Spirit empowers you for his good purposes today.

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

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

Monday • 5/18/2026 •

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 • 5/15/2026 •

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+