daily devotions

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+

There Is One True Story - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Friday • 4/26/2024 •

Friday of the 4th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16; Acts 7:55-60; 1 Peter 2:2-10; John 14:1-14

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)

Today’s Devotion is dedicated to one of the most well-known verses in John’s Gospel: “Jesus said, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me’” (John 14:6). 

 For some time, I’ve been mulling over what Jesus means when he refers to himself as “The Way, the Truth, and the Life.” 

There is one way home. 

When Jesus describes himself as the “Way,” he presupposes that life is a journey with a goal. In this very passage Jesus reflects on that goal: “in my Father’s house, there are many mansions…I go to prepare a place for you.” Think of the many images we’ve been seeing lately in the exodus story. There’s a mountain where Moses and the elders see God and feast (Exodus 24). There’s a vision of God where Moses becomes transformed into glory (Exodus 34), in anticipation of things to come for us (2 Corinthians 3:18; 4:16; Romans 8:18). And, of course, there’s the final end of this journey, when the people (well, the next generation) will go into the Promised Land.

Image: Adaptation, Pixabay

Similarly, we’re not just wandering around down here on Planet Earth. Each of us is heading, as C. S. Lewis puts it, to one destination or the other, the “Beatific Vision” or the “Miserific Vision.” In the Beatific Vision we will be transformed into “everlasting splendors.” In the Miserific Vision we become “immortal horrors.” If we could see ourselves now as we are going to be, says Lewis, we would be tempted to fall down in worship or to flee in horror.  

Jesus says that the Beatific Vision is a promise that is actually and truly open to us. He offers his hand to get us there. And he insists that his hand is the only way in. As early church leader Gregory of Nyssa says: “He who said, ‘I am the Way’ … shapes us anew into his own image”—which image, says Augustine of Hippo, is in “the quality of beauty.” Choose me, says Jesus. Choose beauty. Choose home. 

There is one true story. 

Our world right now is a baffling confusion of competing narratives, of charges and counter-charges of “fake news,” of who are the “good guys” and who are the “bad guys,” of who are the truth-tellers and who are the liars. If you are going to maintain any sanity at all, you have to find a point of reference. You have to find the one true story. When Jesus says “I am the Truth,” he means that you will find your way through the fog only in him. 

The Pilgrim’s Regress, by C. S. Lewis, is a story—a parable, really—about a person in quest of the one true story. Lewis’s pilgrim can’t get out of his mind the notion of an island of delight. He sets out in quest of it. The pilgrim travels “north” through the barren climes of rationalism, and then “south” through the wanton swamps of romanticism. One false path says: “If you can gain enough knowledge, read enough books, make yourself smart enough, you can get there.” Another false path says: “If you can gain enough experiences: take enough cruises, drink enough bourbon, ingest enough drugs, spend enough money, bed enough partners, play enough notes, you can get there.” 

What the pilgrim finally realizes is that he must allow “Mother Kirk” ( the Church) to carry him for a deep dive into cleansing, baptizing waters, and across the ocean that separates the mainland from the island he seeks. Mother Kirk knows the story, and you have to learn it from her. 

I’m a pilgrim too, on my way to the island. That’s why I have to start the day going to that true story first. The news feed must wait until the Daily Office reconnects me to that one story that Mother Kirk tells, and that is written in Scriptures that have Jesus Christ at their center. 

There is one good life.

It’s one thing to stay focused on the journey to the Father’s house and to dwell on, and in, the truth that keeps you above the fray of all the false stories. But in the end, you have to live your life down here in the trenches—and Jesus says he’s here for you. Right here in the nitty-gritty, he insists, “I am the Life.” 

In the “Heroes” episode of the television series M*A*S*H, my favorite character, the show’s chaplain, Father Francis Mulcahy, comes into his own. Father Mulcahy sits at the deathbed of one of his life-heroes, a retired boxer named “Gentleman” Joe Cavanaugh. Francis explains to the dying boxer what it had been like to grow up as a scrawny inner-city kid with thick glasses who liked to read otherworldly philosophy. As a boy, Francis loved Plato’s vision of an “ideal plane” which helped him imagine a better life: “rambling fields and trees. Sort of like the suburbs, only in the sky.” 

He explains that his big problem as a kid was that neighborhood bullies picked on him, and he couldn’t figure out how to respond. Then his father took him to see Gentleman Joe in a boxing match. Something magic happened that night: Gentleman Joe was punching his opponent at will, and the crowd was yelling, “Put him away!” Joe stopped and told the referee to stop the fight. The man had been hurt enough. Young Francis realized right then that “it was possible to keep one foot in the ideal world and the other foot in the real world. I thought you might like to know that,” he tells the dying Joe Cavanaugh, “And I just wanted to thank you.” 

And so, even as he trained for the priesthood, Patrick Mulcahy took up boxing. Think of it this way: Father Mulcahy found a way to deal with “Life” without losing touch with the world of the “Way and the Truth.” That one foot in the real world lent power to his ministry: from rescuing orphans, to performing an orderly’s duties when the rest of the camp was sick, even to performing an emergency tracheotomy while under fire. 

Just moments before Jesus talked to his disciples in John 14 about being the “Way” to the Father and about being the “Truth” in the face of falsity, he had shown what the “Life” looks like. In John 13, he had washed his disciples’ feet and had told them that this is what they are supposed to do for one another. Our Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, is fond of urging us to “Say Yes! to Jesus!”, and in doing so, to say Yes! to love. 

Wherever the nitty-gritty of life has you right now, I pray you know the presence of Jesus in it. Whether you are lonely or claustrophobic, I pray you find him giving you the resources to live and love. Whether you are exhausted or bored or somehow under attack, may you find him as rest, as creative energy, and as protection. 

I pray that you have the humility to take his hand as he leads the Way home. 

I pray that you have the insight to take his story as your one True story. 

I pray that you have the courage to make his Life of love your life. 

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

God's Word Will Stand - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 4/25/2024 •

Thursday of the 4th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 50; Exodus 34:1-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:13-20; Matthew 5:21-26

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)

My experience with the Daily Office is that on some days, one of the passages will invite a “deep dive.” Other days, a single thought or verse may emerge. Some days—like today—I’ll read all the passages over and over again, finding myself pondering themes interwoven among them. So, today I’ve simply gathered common threads from across our readings under three heads. 

God’s Word will stand. Moses may have broken the tablets of the “Ten Words.” But the “Ten Words” don’t thereby stop being the measure of image-bearing. God intends to make himself known to the world through a people of his possession. And so, the Lord replaces the tablets (Exodus 34:1-4). 

The psalmist rebukes those who “toss” the Lord’s “words behind” their “back,” recasting God in their own image (“you thought that I am like you”). Making themselves the measure of all things, they justify stealth, adultery, lying (Psalm 50:17-20). Rejecting God’s Word, they turn life on its head. 

To pagan Thessalonians, Paul offers Jesus Christ as the path to the knowledge of the “living and true God” (1 Thessalonians 1:9). When they came to believe his message, he says, “you accepted it not as a human word but as what it really is, God’s word, which is also at work in you believers” (1 Thessalonians 2:13). 

Jesus expounds what God’s Word does when it works in the hearts of those who read it in faith. “You shall not murder,” says Scripture. When that word from God genuinely takes hold in a person, it restrains not just the hand, but the heart (Matthew 5:22). 

You know, puzzles emerge in reading the Bible. The Bible is filled with flawed people. Sometimes you are left wondering why God does what he does, or why he permits what he permits. Still, throughout, it’s God’s living and active Word, which searches out our hearts, displays his character, and takes us deeper into communion with him. 

God’s justice will stand resolutely. The psalmist maintains that people’s attempt to make the Lord over into an image of themselves (“you thought I am like you”) will prove false. “Our God,” maintains the psalmist, “will come and not keep silence” (Psalm 50:3). The Lord will “rend you and there be none to deliver you” (Psalm 50:23). 

Moses warns that the cost of breaking covenant with Yahweh will be severe. If they marry idolators, Israelites will become idolators—they will prostitute themselves to their unbelieving spouses’ gods (Exodus 34:16). 

For his part, Jesus refuses to endorse worship on just anybody’s terms—you can’t love God without loving neighbor. So, don’t even think about bringing your offering without first taking care of things when your brother or sister “has something against you” (Matthew 5:23). 

To Paul, his fellow Jews’ fundamental mission in the world was to bring its Savior to them. Failing to recognize the Messiah, they killed him instead.  As a result, “they displease God and oppose everyone,” putting themselves, alas, in the crosshairs of God’s wrath (1 Thessalonians 2:15-16). 

It’s all quite sobering. God is not to be trifled with. Every once in a while, I need to take stock and examine my own assumptions about who he is, lest I re-fashion him into a cuddly chaplain of my own me-created, me-centered religion. 

God’s mercy will stand even more resolutely than his justice. Judgment may extend to the fourth generation, but the Lord’s “steadfast love and faithfulness” will extend to the thousandth, he tells Moses (Exodus 34:5-7). 

The psalmist holds out the promise: “Call upon me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall honor me” (Psalm 50:15). 

Our Savior Jesus came, calling us to be reconciled with those from whom we are estranged (Matthew 5:24). Not only that, he has come on a mission to reconcile heaven and earth on the cross, ending the warfare between God and ourselves: “for he himself is our peace” (for this, see Romans 5:5-8; Colossians 2:21-22; Ephesians 2:14a). 

Sad though the apostle Paul is about people who reject God’s peace in Christ, it is even more the case that he is grateful for those who embrace it: “For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at this coming? Is it not you? Yes, you are our glory and joy!” (1 Thessalonians 219-20). So, as James 2:13 says, “mercy triumphs over judgment.”  

I leave today’s readings resolved to do three things. First, I determine to trust God’s Word as God’s Word even in the places it seems unclear, demanding, or even puzzling. Then, second, I determine to hold onto the complete rightness of God’s judgment against all that stands against him. And third, I determine to hold onto the steadfast love that broke through on the Cross of his dear Son, where God showed himself to be both “just and (mercifully) justifier” (see Romans 3:26). Praise be! 

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

If You Are A Friend of God - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Wednesday • 4/24/2024 •

Wednesday of the 4th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 119:49–72; Exodus 33:1-23; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-12; Matthew 5:17-20

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)

Friendship with God. Thus the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend. — Exodus 33:11. Hebrew people defined friendship in terms of “speaking face to face.” It was about love. Remarkably, the Bible holds out the extraordinary prospect of the Lord of heaven and earth being “friend” to us, “speaking face to face” to us. 

That said, Scripture rarely mentions friendship between God and humans. The only person in the Bible who is directly called “friend of God” is Abraham (see James 2:23). In Genesis 18, Abraham had been brazen enough to bargain with God to spare Sodom and Gomorrah for the sake of ten innocent souls. God had been willing to listen to his friend’s urgings. The Lord was even willing to find the humor in ninety-year-old Sarah’s amusement at being told she would bear a child. Similarly, Abraham listened when, in Genesis 22, his Divine Friend asked him to make an unthinkable sacrifice: his own son. Loving attentiveness is at the heart of friendship. 

Other than the Lord relating to Moses “as one speaks to a friend,” the Bible reserves the thought of friendship with God for the night Jesus, the God-Man, washes his disciples’ feet and says he’s no longer going to deal with them as servants, but as “friends.” He calls them friends, he explains, “because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father” (John 15:15).  

Two features of Moses’s friendship with God are worth noting.

Friendship with God means expecting him to be forbearing with us. Aspects of Moses’s conversation with the Lord aren’t exactly lucid, but the Lord seems patient with Moses. To take but one example from a tangled conversation, right after the Lord promises that his presence will accompany the Israelites on their journey, Moses responds “If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here” (Exodus 33:17). Instead of rebuking Moses for doubting his promise, the Lord assures him he will keep his word and adds “for you have found favor in my sight, and I know you by name” (Exodus 33:17). 

If you are a friend of God—and if you are in Christ, you are indeed a friend of God—you can tell him what’s on your heart. You can speak to him “face to face.” He won’t mock. He won’t ignore. However, then … you should be ready to listen. 

Friendship with God means taking the time & making the space to meet with him. My thirty-something year old son tells me his schedule is so crazy that he must deliberately set up time to meet and simply “hang out” with friends. Even if it’s only for coffee or a quiet lunch, he explains, the time is necessary for nurturing and maintaining those relationships. It’s the same with us when it comes to God. 

Now Moses used to take the tent and pitch it outside the camp, far off from the camp; he called it the tent of meeting. — Exodus 33:7. If you are reading this, I may very well be preaching to the choir. By praying and reading through the Daily Office, perhaps in a space you have carved out specifically for that purpose, you are doing the very thing you need to do to build your friendship with God. Nonetheless, I will go on to point out that Moses cultivated his friendship with God with intentionality. Moses had a place, and he had a time. He would take the time to go to the “tent” where he would expect to “meet” the Lord. 

At midnight I will rise to give you thanks, because of your righteous judgments. — Psalm 119:62. Every Wednesday, the Daily Lectionary calls for the reading of a portion of Psalm 119, so that we get all the way through this, the longest of the psalms, over the course of the seven weeks it takes to cover the whole of the Psalter. Psalm 119 is usually thought of as a psalm in praise of God’s Word. It is—but it is also a psalm in praise of prayer. It talks about praying at all times: “at midnight” (v. 62, from today’s portion!), “early in the morning” (v. 147), “in the night watches” (v. 148), “seven times a day” (v. 167). 

The “at midnight” prayer mentioned in today’s reading is especially helpful. Midnight is when you wake up thinking about everything that worries you—the child you’re concerned about, the task you don’t see how you are going to finish, even the exhaustion that tonight’s anxiety will give you tomorrow. And what is so especially helpful is that today’s verse about prayer is an exhortation to give thanks. It’s amazing what happens when you translate your anxious broodings into petitions for help. It’s even more amazing what happens inside you when you have prefaced your requests with thanks. You become attuned to the ways you have already seen the Lord work, and you become fortified with the hopeful expectation that his righteous judgments will work their way into each and every situation. 

And so the apostle Paul encourages God’s friends: “Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:6-7).

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

There Is a Mediator - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 4/23/2024 •

Tuesday of the 4th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 45; Exodus 32:21-34; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 5:11-16

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)

Some passages, like today’s from Exodus, demand a wide-angle lens. The apostle Paul offers such a lens when in 1 Corinthians 10 he looks, through the lens of Christ, back at the golden calf incident and all the failings of Israel in the wilderness journey. 

I do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, and all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, … 4 [T]hey drank from the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ. Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them, and they were struck down in the wilderness.

Now these things occurred as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil as they did. Do not become idolaters as some of them did; as it is written, “The people sat down to eat and drink, and they rose up to play.” (Exodus 32:6)

11 These things happened to them to serve as an example, and they were written down to instruct us, on whom the ends of the ages have come. (1 Corinthians 10:1-7,11)

The Exodus events foreshadow the coming of Christ in a future that was then still distant. They even provide glimpses of his presence back then, battling “up close and personal” with sin. If God was indeed working a plan that would lead to the revelation of Christ and his work at “the end of the ages,” what instructions lie here for us? 

Sin is deceitful. “So I said to them, ‘Whoever has gold, take it off’; so they gave it to me, and I threw it into the fire, and out came this calf!” — Exodus 32:24. Aaron won’t accept his responsibility in proposing and actually making the golden calf as a means of placating the people (see Exodus 32:2-5). He makes it sound like it happened by magic. 

The first lesson here may be that I need to be wary of my own heart’s propensity to twist reality to make me look good. Sin makes us all dissemblers, dodgers, evaders, and twisters of the truth. 

Image: Pixabay

The priestly office is designed to put an end to sin. “Put your sword on your side, each of you!...” — Exodus 32:27. Some members of the tribe of Levi had worshiped the golden calf, and some had refused. Moses decrees that those who had prostituted themselves with the idol must die at the hands of their fellow Levites who remained true to Yahweh. There can be no division in the house among the Levites, the tribe that exists for the sole purpose of overseeing the sacrifices that deal with sin. 

From this distance it’s difficult to take in the powerful significance of the entirety of the sacrificial system that will be unfolded, especially in Leviticus. “It is the blood that makes atonement,” according to Leviticus 17:11. The writer to the Hebrews offers: “Indeed, under the law, it might almost be said that everything is cleansed by blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness” (Hebrews 9:22 REB). All the sacrifices are about a reckoning for sin. And it is the tribe of Levi that will oversee those sacrifices.

In Christ, a passage like this one, calling for the killing of sinners who themselves are supposed to be in the business of killing sin, becomes a call for us to kill the sin within ourselves. As Paul says to the Colossians, “So put to death those parts of you which belong to the earth—fornication, indecency, lust, evil desires, and the ruthless greed which is nothing less than idolatry; on these divine retribution falls” (Colossians 3:5-6 REB). 

There is a Mediator who would rather see Himself excluded if it means you can be included. “But now, if you will only forgive their sin—but if not, blot me out of the book that you have written.” — Exodus 32:32. Here, if anywhere in the Old Testament, is the voice of our Savior in advance. Moses would rather give up his own place in what he refers to as Yahweh’s “book,” that is, Moses’s place in God’s inheritance (for God’s book of life, by the way, see Psalm 69:28; Daniel 12:1; Malachi 3:16; Revelation 3:5; 13:8). Moses would rather be written out of God’s story than to see his brothers and sisters condemned for their sin. When Christ steps onto the field, he takes people’s diseases into himself, bears their sorrows, takes into himself the curse that they deserve, and on the Cross “becomes sin” on their behalf. That they might be accepted, he is willing to be rejected, written out of the book of life that they might be written in. 

Here is a mysterious exchange, anticipated in the example of Moses. One can only sit in silence before it, and wonder. Why this? And for the likes of me? 

The joy of Eastertide is ours because, and only because, of our Mediator’s self-giving on Good Friday. It seems fitting today to close with the prayer that concludes Good Friday’s worship: 

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the living God, we pray you to set your passion, cross, and death between your judgment and our souls, now and in the hour of our death. Give mercy and grace to the living; pardon and rest to the dead; to your holy Church peace and concord; and to us sinners everlasting life and glory; for with the Father and Holy Spirit you live and reign, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+ 

Golden Calves - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Monday • 4/22/2024 •

Monday of the 4th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 41; Psalm 52; Exodus 32:1-20; Colossians 3:18–4:18; Matthew 5:1-10

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)

A golden calf—an extraordinarily bad idea. It is sobering to contemplate God’s children camped at the foot of Mt. Sinai committing such treachery, given all that’s behind them and all that’s ahead of them. They’ve been rescued with Yahweh’s “mighty hand and outstretched arm.” They’ve received “bread from heaven.” They are receiving the oracles of God, written by his very fingers. And they are being entrusted with a blueprint for how the Lord of heaven and earth intends to establish a dwelling place among humankind centered among them—a former slave people!—as “kingdom of priests and holy nation.”

But it’s not enough for them. I find that reflecting on features of their apostasy hits close to home.

Image: "Golden Bull" by Thomas Hawk is marked with CC BY-NC 2.0.

Take off the gold rings…” — Exodus 32:2a. On their way out of Egypt, the Israelites had been blessed with gifts by their Egyptian neighbors. “The Israelites …  had asked the Egyptians for jewelry of silver and gold, and for clothing, and the Lord had given the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians, so that they let them have what they asked. And so they plundered the Egyptians” (Exodus 12:35-36). This so-called “plunder” would provide the capital out of which the Israelites could build and lavishly adorn the sanctuary they were to construct for the Lord. Instead, they put the bounty to a contrary use, the creation of an idol. 

The cautionary note for us is this: golden calves are built by privileged people. The Israelites had been blessed so they could honor the Lord, and in honoring him live into their calling to bless the nations through drawing them to the worship of Yahweh. Herein lies a call for all of us to reflect on the abundance that any of us has. Are we ready to offer it back to the True and Living God in thankful praise of him, and in loving service to our neighbor? 

…and cast the image of a calf; … These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt” — Exodus 32:4. The term “calf” is likely Moses’s own term of mockery as he wrote up this narrative. In all probability, the idol itself was a likeness of an Egyptian bull-god, a symbol of power and fertility. There is a subtle and sinister syncretism at work when the Israelites identify this pagan god with the biblical God. It is to “Yahweh,” after all, that Aaron proclaims a festival in celebration of the casting of the golden calf: “Tomorrow shall be a festival to the Lord” (Exodus 32:5).

This whole notion sends chills up and down the spine. At the same time, it makes me reflect on the possible “golden calves” we fashion for ourselves: degrees, titles, income, status. I find myself turning to the “Jesus prayer”: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” 

…and the people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to revel. — Exodus 32:6b. The whole sad affair also reminds me of astute observations by philosopher James K. A. Smith in his book, Desiring the Kingdom. About the secular centers of worship in our culture — shopping malls, athletic stadiums, and university campuses — Smith says there are things: “…implicit in their visions of the kingdom—visions of human flourishing—that are antithetical to the biblical vision of shalom” (Desiring the Kingdom, Kindle location, 1442).  

We’ve seen seasons — whether of pandemic or war —when so many of these secular places of worship have stood idle and empty or decimated and in rubble, while the economy that buttressed them crumbles. When our society desperately seeks to resurrect them, isn’t that the perfect time for people of faith to recalculate the blessing of and participation in a wide range of “eating and drinking and reveling” that are idolatrous? 

He took the calf that they had made, burned it with fire, ground it to powder, scattered it on the water, and made the Israelites drink it. — Exodus 32:20. The things we substitute for—or make virtually equal in importance to—the Lord himself are but created things. Borrowing an image that Jesus Christ himself introduces, though in a somewhat different context: “whatever goes into the mouth enters the stomach, and goes out into the sewer” (Matthew 15:17). The goods we purchase, the teams we celebrate, the status we enjoy—they are but temporary, created things. They can serve us. They can enhance life. They can even, depending, enable us to further God’s Kingdom. But they are not the Kingdom. The King is the Kingdom.  

The most apt closing for today’s devotional meditation I can think of is this prayer from the Book of Common Prayer:

Collect for Proper 12 (the Sunday closest to July 27). O God, the protector of all who trust in you, without whom nothing is strong, nothing is holy: Increase and multiply upon us your mercy; that, with you as our ruler and guide, we may so pass through things temporal, that we lose not the things eternal; 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+

Principles for Worship - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Friday • 4/19/2024 •

Friday of the 3rd Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 105:1–22; Exodus 24:1-18; Colossians 2:8-23; Matthew 4:12-17

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)

Exodus 24 is a central passage in all of Scripture. Here in a worship service at the base of Mt. Sinai, God binds to himself in covenant the people he has redeemed. He briefly opens a window into the heart of worship, and from this passage we draw vital principles for worship. In fact, this passage accounts for why we do much of what we do in our worship at the Cathedral Church of St. Luke.

Worship has a script. It’s not free form. Worship happens at God’s own invitation, and on his terms. Yahweh, the redeeming God of Israel has brought this people out of Israel for fellowship with himself. He has promised to make them a kingdom of priests and a holy nation, and through them to bless the entirety of the human race. And so he is calling the shots. 

The Lord calls for the placing of twelve pillars to represent the tribes, and for the building of an altar for sacrifice. He orchestrates the readings and the sacrifices, and twice he evokes from the people, “All that the Lord has spoken we will do….” In the same spirit, our worship is governed by The Book of Common Prayer, an attempt to capture biblical principles for worship. In a nutshell, those principles are: we gather in God’s holy presence; we proclaim his Holy Word; we feast at the Table of the Lord; and we are sent into the world for ministry. 

Worship consists of a ministry of word… Twice on this holy mountain there is a generous reading of God’s Word: “all the words of Yahweh and all the ordinances” (Exodus 24:3) … “Then he took the book of the covenant, and read it in the hearing of the people” (Exodus 24:7). That reading likely consisted of the “Ten Words” that had been delivered to Moses in Exodus 20, plus the unpacking of the “Ten Words” in Exodus 21-23. There the deep principles of loving God and loving neighbor had been applied to various situations, like treating slaves justly, dealing with violent crime, providing restitution in cases of theft or accidental harm, caring for the poor. 

In worship, we attend diligently to God’s Holy Word because we are determined to honor him in our lives. Then, in response to his Word, we recite the Nicene Creed, the faith that all believers hold together. There we are adding our own: “All that the Lord has spoken….” 

Worship, then, consists of a ministry of word…AND a ministry of sacred action. Symbolic actions in this passage include “Burnt offerings” … “offerings of well-being” (literally, “peace offerings”) … “blood dashed against the altar” … “blood dashed on the people.” It all culminates in this extraordinary phenomenon: “Also they beheld God, and they ate and drank.” By God’s mysterious economy, “the blood of the covenant” (Exodus 24:7) does two things. First, it averts deserved judgment. Second, it establishes divine fellowship. And that fellowship climaxes in a shared meal in the very presence of God. 

At his Last Supper with his disciples, Jesus recalls this Mt. Sinai experience when he says “this is my blood of the covenant” (Matthew 26:28). With these words in our celebration of Eucharist, we place ourselves at the foot of the holy mountain, sharing with one another the sacred meal, hosted by the mediator of the New Covenant. 

I close today with the elegant and powerful post-communion prayer from the 5th century Syriac Liturgy of Malabar: 

Grant, O Lord Jesus,
that the ears which have heard the voice of your songs
may be closed to the voice of dispute;
that the eyes which have seen your great love
may also behold your blessed hope;
that the tongues which have sung your praise
may speak the truth in love;
that the feet which have walked in your courts
may walk in the region of light;
and that the bodies which have received your living body
may be restored in newnesss of life.
Glory to you for your inexpressible gift. Amen.

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+

The Walk that New Life in Christ Enables - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 4/18/2024 •

Thursday of the 3rd Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 37:1–18; Exodus 20:1-21; Colossians 1:24–2:7; Matthew 4:1-11

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)

Today is Thursday of the Third Week of Easter

Exodus 20 and the “Ten Words.” We call them the “Ten Commandments.” The Bible calls them the “Ten Words” (Exodus 34:28; Deuteronomy 4:13; 10:4). We see them as impossible demands. The Bible sees them as the way of life. Many people see them as requirements to gain God’s favor. The Bible sees them as responses to God’s favor: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt” (Exodus 20:2). 

The best way to read them is as an explanation of what it means for a people whom God has loved to love him back and to love what he loves. Later, Scripture will say, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and strength” … and “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Deuteronomy 6:5; Leviticus 19:18). 

If I love God, I will not love other gods as well, nor will I love him according to my own rules. If I know that I have been loved by God, I will extend that same love to my neighbor whom he has also loved: my parents, my spouse, the person who lives down the street. Their relationships, their property, their reputations will be as important to me as mine are to myself—for the sake of the one who has redeemed me. 

That’s how it’s supposed to work: “Ten Words” intended for well-loved and grateful people, giving shape to a reflexive life of loving God and neighbor.

Image: Pixabay

We’ve seen plenty in the narrative leading up to Mt. Sinai to let us know that it’s not going to be that simple. The Israelites grumbled in the wilderness, and God has warned them to keep their distance from his presence. The rest of the narrative will underscore the point. The people will impiously worship a golden calf, they will cowardly refuse to enter the Promised Land, they will not keep Sabbath, nor honor their parents, nor the integrity of their neighbor’s property, nor the virtue of their neighbor’s spouse. All of which necessitated an elaborate sacrificial system so their failure to love could be temporarily atoned for, in anticipation of a permanent fix. 

Some Perspective from Paul. The apostle Paul has a refined sense of how the “Ten Words” are impacted by Christ’s coming. 

The “Words” make us see the need for mercy, and so they set Christ’s atoning sacrifice into a framework of gratitude. As Paul writes in Romans 8:3, “For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh,….” 

At the same time, the “Ten Words” shed light on the “walk” that new life in Christ enables. It’s not often appreciated that Paul sees Christ-followers as law-keepers, that is, as “Ten Words”-keepers. People who have been called by God in Christ “love God” (Romans 8:28)—which is the chief summary of the law, and half of the “Ten Words.” 

Moreover, according to Paul, as we “walk” by the Spirit, an amazing thing happens. To finish the above quote, “…he condemned sin in the flesh, so that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit” (Romans 8:4). Walking in union with Christ in the power of the Spirit, we learn both how to love God, and how to keep the other half of the “Ten Words,” loving our neighbor. Here’s what Paul says about that in Romans 13:8–10: 

“Owe no one anything, except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law. The commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery; You shall not murder; You shall not steal; You shall not covet’; and any other commandment, are summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  Love does no wrong to a neighbor; therefore, love is the fulfilling of the law.

We live in an extraordinary and historic time. While many other issues are complex, there is one that is not. This is a time to find out what you really love. The “Ten Words” are there to reassert God’s claim on your love: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt.” 

“Will you love me?”, he continues to ask, “Will you love what I love?” 

I pray for you—and for myself—the grace to answer those questions well. 

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+

Bringing Well-Being to Our Lives - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Wednesday • 4/17/2024 •

Wednesday of the 3rd Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 38; Exodus 19:16-25; Colossians 1:15-23; Matthew 3:13-17

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)

Today is Wednesday of the Third Week of Easter

Psalm 38 & sin’s effects from the inside. David composes Psalm 38 out of the agony of a wasting illness: “My wounds stink and fester … my loins are filled with searing pain; there is no health in my body” (Psalm 38:5a,7). Anyone who has ever experienced the utter misery of a really bad case of the flu can relate to these words of David. From inside the experience of his sickness, David recognizes a deeper root to his pain, his sin: “There is no health in my flesh, because of your indignation; there is no soundness in my body because of my sin” (Psalm 38:3). 

There are sinful behaviors and foolish choices that can put a person in a sickbed. If David has one of these in mind, he doesn’t say which. It’s also possible that he is not tracing this sickness to a particular sin. He may be mourning the susceptibility to sickness to which the fall into sin subjected all of us. Sin is a “pre-existing condition” without which no illness would afflict. 

Regardless, this is what sin feels like from inside its reality: a wasting disease. Lord, have mercy. 

Exodus 19 & sin’s effects from the outside. At Mt. Sinai, the Israelites discover that their sin creates the need for separation between God and themselves. His presence should be a comfort to his people, but it isn’t. His presence is terrifying. It’s something from which they need protection, lest he, as the text says, “break out against them.” Thus, in this passage, the Lord provides barriers. Concentric circles of approach allow mediated communion: Moses may come all the way to the top of the mountain, Aaron may accompany him part of the way, the people must wait below.

Image: Pixabay

This is what sin feels like from the outside: boundaries isolate me from a God whose holy presence would destroy me. Lord, have mercy. 

Colossians 1 & Christ the Reconciler. …and through [Christ] God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross. — Colossians 1:20. 

One way you can deal with sin’s internal and external effects is to populate the heavens with that which can be either against you (bringing disease, disaster, and condemnation) or for you (winning health, success, and forgiveness). According to archaeological evidence, people around Colossae were especially awed by “spiritual forces.” In the 21st century we like to think of ourselves as enlightened and beyond superstition. But even today athletes have their rituals, and people carry rabbit’s feet or other good luck charms. In their day, Colossians sought to placate some “dominions or rulers or powers” (Colossians 1:16) to ward off evil, and they venerated others, hoping for healing or success. Paul writes to set Colossian Christians straight. 

In one of the most elegant passages in all his writings, Paul points these new believers to Christ. Jesus Christ is Lord of whatever “spiritual powers” there may be in the heavenly realms, for he created everything that is, including all “dominions or rulers or powers.” He is their Lord, as well as ours. It is he, and no one else, who establishes peace between God and us, and who brings well-being to our lives. He does this through the blood of the cross. All this makes Paul’s letter to the Colossians one of the richest invitations to worship in all of Scripture. Praise be!

Matthew 3 & Christ the Baptized. As Christ steps into the waters of the Jordan, he says he’s “fulfilling all righteousness.” What he’s doing is identifying with sinners. This is the one sinless person who has nothing of which to repent, undergoing a washing for the cleansing of sins not his own. Here he launches his public ministry by signaling his intention to shed his blood to bring peace between heaven and earth, and healing to the hearts and minds and bodies of those for whom he has come. Again, Praise be!

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

A Thrilling Perspective - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 4/16/2024 •

Tuesday of the 3rd Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 26; Psalm 28; Exodus 19:1-16; Colossians 1:1-14; Matthew 3:7-12

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)

Today is Tuesday of the Third Week of Easter

…how I bore you on eagles’ wings…— Exodus 19:4. What a gorgeous and poetic way to look back on the rescue from Egyptian bondage—the Angel of Death “passing over” the Israelites’ homes, the crossing of the Red Sea on dry ground under the protection of the Angel of the Lord and the Pillar of Cloud, and the provision of manna and quail during the (thus far) three month journey through the wilderness. 

How can we interpret the Lord’s working in our own lives as his “bearing us up on eagles’ wings”?

…my treasured possession…—Exodus 19:5. We may not be sure how to think of ourselves as personally “treasured.” Are we even supposed to do so? After all, “treasured possession” here in Exodus is a collective, not an individualistic, concept. Still, God surely doesn’t just love the whole without loving the parts. 

So, it’s legitimate for each of us to ask how we can think of ourselves as “treasured.” 

…a priestly kingdom & a holy nation…— Exodus 19:6. The mediatorial work that the nation witnesses Moses doing for them is what the Lord is calling them to do for the world. Moses goes up the mountain to listen to the Lord on the people’s behalf, then brings those words to the people. They answer that they will obey. Moses returns to the Lord with their response, and the Lord sends him back with instructions to prepare themselves for his coming. 

This is a picture of Israel’s distinct calling in the world—to be “set apart” (which is the root meaning of “holy”) in order to bring the rest of the world into the presence of the Lord by prayer in worship, to listen to the Lord on the world’s behalf, and to bring the Lord’s words to the world in hopes of a response to his call and his love. 

Image: iStock

This is why Christians are a people of prayer. We do not meaninglessly toss out verbiage of vague “thoughts and prayers.” We earnestly and tearfully agonize before the Lord. We seek divine relief for the misery and suffering, the lostness and confusion, the wrong-headedness and stubborn-heartedness that plagues the human race. As part of God’s priestly kingdom, we plead for the Lord once again to provide “eagles’ wings” rescue for people under the dominion of powers hostile to their souls and bodies. 

Who needs my intercession today? 

…we have not ceased praying for you…— Colossians 1:9. In another happy pairing, the Daily Office invites us to read through Paul’s letter to the Colossians during this week in which we reflect on Israel’s “mountain top” experience at Mt. Sinai in Exodus. This epistle is its own “mountain top” experience. Paul himself is persuaded that these new believers have been rescued from hostile powers by arms lifted on a cross. These Colossian Christians have been transferred into the Kingdom of God’s dear Son (Colossians 2:15; 1:14). Thus, they are able to set their minds on things above where Christ is, and where their lives are hidden with him (Colossians 3:1-4). 

Throughout this gem of a letter, Paul helps Christians living in Colossae, an out-of-the-way, insignificant town in southwestern Asia Minor, to realize the powerful reach of their lives. They participate in making known the mystery of God’s reclamation of the human race through Christ: “the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator, where there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!” (Colossians 3:10-11 NRSV, slightly edited). It’s a thrilling perspective. 

What is especially wonderful to see is the way Paul keynotes his epistle with prayer. It was quite standard in first-century letter writing to begin a letter with a brief prayer for the health and well-being of the person being addressed. But Paul expands this custom with generous thanksgiving for his readers, and then with a deep prayer for God to implant a knowledge, impart a wisdom, and instill a confidence for obedience beyond what Paul’s own words can convey. 

For what do I need to give thanks today? And for what do I need a deeper wisdom to know how to live?

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+