Jun 8 2022 Day 365 Revelation 21:1–22:21

And when I heard and saw them, I fell down to worship at the feet of the angel who showed them to me; but he said to me, “You must not do that!



Once again, I am grateful for the accompanying reflection. Today’s is written by Eugene Peterson. He points out that the entire book of Revelation is frequently misused. He writes, “It is difficult to worship God instead of his messengers. And so people get interested in everything in this book except God, losing themselves in symbol hunting, intrigue with numbers, speculating with frenzied imaginations on times and sea-sons, despite Jesus’ severe stricture against it.” As he notes, we mistakenly treat the book of Revelation the way John treats the angels. John worships the angel, and the angel rebukes him, instead pointing him to God. Yes!

Perhaps that’s why I’ve struggled through Revelation. It’s so frequently used as a sign for end-times. Instead, it’s a fantastical image all pointing to the splendor and honor and kingly power. It talks about a heavenly city where there is no Temple, because Jesus is the temple. It speaks beautifully about a place where there is no sorrow. It talks about the kingdom of God. That I can appreciate. So although it wasn’t my favorite, perhaps I’ve warmed up a bit about Revelation; I like it’s true message.

And so ends our walk through the bible. This effort has included 552 pages and 168,480 words. I did miss one day of writing, although I did read the scripture that day. (That was for my conscience..)

I’m not sure what’s next.

I’ve had suggestions about starting the good book again. A dear friend noted that she always like seconds – whether it’s the second time through a book, or the second plate of food. Having read and written my way through, I do think I’d benefit from another go.

Perhaps we’ll tackle another book, although I’m not sure what could top the Bible.

I also have had a notion of writing a book, including reflections about the place where significant brain disorders like schizophrenia and spirituality intersect. But to do that would require less time committed to a daily reflection.

For any of you who’ve joined in this journey, Katherine, Denny, Betsy, Terri, John, Mary, Nancy, Hana, Neff, Chris, Carole, Linda, Robin, Geri, and everyone else who’s “liked” or commented on my ramblings, thank you. I’m always amazed when anyone else understands, let alone appreciates the weird working of my brain. Your support has kept me from quitting, even though the posts averaged only about 6 views per day for the year; support is support.

For now, I’m going to take bit of a writing break. I have a little travelling and celebrating to do, and when I’m back, we’ll figure out what’s next.

Again, thank you all.

Jun 7 2022 Day 364 Revelation 18:1–20:15

After slogging through Revelation, I still don’t have a great deal of appreciation for it. Yes, there are some beautiful phrases that are uttered, and repeated in my traditional liturgy. “Splendor and honor and kingly power, are yours by right o Lamb that was slain... with your blood you have redeemed for God, from every family, language, people and nation”. Or “O Ruler of the Universe, Lord God, great deeds that you have done, surpassing human understanding”.

These are come from two ‘canticles’ or songs that are repeated weekly in our daily morning and evening prayer practice, and they are rich and meaningful me. And when I read them in context I get uncomfortable. The first canticle is sung by 24 elders with seven flames in front of them, and beasts with eyes in front and in back of their heads. The second canticle, splendor and honor, is sung by those victorious over the beast, standing next to a sea of glass and fire. Immediately before this, an angel swings his sickle and put what he gathered in a winepress that then flowed with blood.

While it is true that my literal brain struggles with these images, my bigger objection to Revelation is that it’s clearly a book set in a particular time, using analogies and allegories that may or may not make sense now. In my tradition, we’ve elected to take these songs of praise and use them in worship. But other traditions take other parts and use them – sign of the beast, 666, end times, horsemen of the apocalypse. But I do not believe Revelation was written to tell an objective story, full of facts and accurate predictions.

Rather, I think this is John’s vision, maybe his ‘thin place’. A thin place is a Celtic notion of where we can see through to the holy, where it feels like you’re in the midst of the holy. I’ve been to cathedrals and ancient ruins that feel like think places, where it feels like I’m closer to heaven than other times. John in his vision, it seems is describing his sense of heaven. That is no more descriptive of heaven than my description of a particular cathedral.

One of the places where I have routinely felt like a thin place was working at a community breakfast. I worked there reliably for years and got to know the down-trodden who attended. Heaven was absolutely there. And yet, if I wrote a story about it, it would include my own description of hard to believe stories – the hard life stories of the heavenly homeless who showed so much grace and love in the midst of their addition and illness. It may have never felt like a holy, thin place to anyone else, but it did to me.

All of this is to say that have a healthy skepticism of anyone or any tradition that relies on visions from Revelation. Without reading about the beasts and the frogs and understanding the analogies about Babylon and whores, it’s taking things out of context and probably shouldn’t be. I still love the poetry in my tradition’s self-selected portions of Revelation, and the whole book makes me uncomfortable because of what we humans hang on to as ‘truth’.

Jun 6 2022 Day 363 Revelation 15:1–17:18

Lord, who will not fear and glorify your name?



Amidst the descriptions of seas of glass, beasts with seven heads and ten horns, and frogs coming out of the mouth of a dragon, is this phrase. I’m grateful, again, for the accompanying reflection or again, I would have missed it.

The reflection is written by Gerald May, and he writes about the dark night of the soul. This is a concept whereby people of faith stumble and doubt and feel great distance from God. He argues that the dark night of the soul isn’t a night or a season; it’s always with us. He even goes so far as to suggest that it isn’t a bad thing.

He likens it to a child’s acceptance of mystery and unknowing. As we grow up, we become less and less comfortable with mystery and not knowing things. The dark night of the soul is the scarier, but necessary companion to our growing in deep faith and letting go of our need for knowing. It’s our reclaiming of mystery because of a deep faith in God’s providence.

As children the whole world is a mystery and uncertainty. We need a foundation on which to grow and become the people we are made to be. As a result, we undergird our world with knowledge and certainty and principles. The house that sits on that foundation is the world. The reality of the uncertainty of the world remains, but we can proceed with more confidence because we are armed with our self-made truths that create the illusion of knowing. Our house is secure on the foundation of knowledge. Or at least we think so. 

Perhaps what May is suggesting is that the dark night of the soul is the slow disintegration of that self-made foundation. Every time, something we know as a truth is shaken, our foundation is shaken and we go through periods of doubt and questioning. With God’s grace, that void is filled with faith. It’s definitely an unsettling process. And as we grow in relationship with God, we slowly dismantle our false foundation of certitude.

We still live in a world of mystery and uncertainty, but we are living in a world made more secure by faith in God. How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, is laid for your faith in his excellent word.

This morning, I’m thinking about how to recognize the false foundations I’ve built, and to embrace that unnerving process of swapping out knowledge for faith. Life is a beautiful mystery. I want to celebrate that mystery and uncertainty, and live by faith.

Jun 5 2022 Day 362 Revelation 12:1–14:20

Then I saw another angel flying in midheaven, with an eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earth—to every nation and tribe and language and people.



John’s fantastical vision continues with talk of a woman giving birth, the sign of the beast, 144,000 virgins, and Michael slaying the dragon. Most of the imagery is of bad things, some which temporarily win, many of which are defeated. In the midst of all that chaos, John sees another angel with an eternal gospel to proclaim to those who live on the earth. Aah. Just reading that in the midst of all the other scenes was refreshing.

That feels to me like modern life. There’s lots of chaos, fantastical stories of guns in schools, police killing unarmed men, racial tensions, climate crisis, hunger – the list could go on for too long. I don’t understand it all, and like reading Revelation, am numbed by the narrative.

And then, in the midst of all of that, I am again reminded of the eternal gospel. Jesus was fully God and fully human, lived like I do or at least like I try to, and eventually returned to God with all of our humanness. Christ’s resurrection and ascension brought about a new way of living – a way without all of the tribulations of modern life.

As a Christian, I am called by the Gospel to Love God and Love my Neighbor. I’m called to a radical new kind of living that is not what the rest of the world values. It’s the Good News of Jesus that lets me carry on. Maybe I cannot single-handedly stop any of the trials in my world. With other people of faith, I have a better chance. And by myself – with the eternal good news – I can Love God and Love my Neighbor. Maybe that’s enough.

Jun 4 2022 Day 361 Revelation 8:6–11:19

So I took the little scroll from the hand of the angel and ate it; it was sweet as honey in my mouth, but when I had eaten it, my stomach was made bitter.



In the midst of the trumpets, the hairy locusts with breastplates of armor, and the people with fire coming out of their mouths is this sentence. It was only the accompanying reflection of Bernard of Clairvaux that made me notice, and read it as anything other than a man taking a little bit of tasty paper, eating it, and then getting a stomach ache.

Clairvaux writes about what happens when we look closely at ourselves and how we’ve lived. He suggests that sin – all of the things we do and say that we know are not of God – might momentarily taste or feel good. But soon we get a stomach ache, when considering what we’ve done.

This I understand, both figuratively and literally. That second piece of desert – tasted good and gave me a belly ache. The gossip or unkind words might feel good as they are initially said, but leave me feeling bad. With some things, I’ve learned – but they tend to be very literal stomach aches, so I know not to overload on certain foods.

But why is it so hard to remember the other things that we do that result in figurative stomach aches? There are things that I do that I know will result in me not feeling good, and yet I persist.

Clairvaux continues that when we examine ourselves, that’s when we acknowledge the unpleasant but lingering aftereffects of our bad behavior. That’s probably why we’re loathe to conduct these self-reflections; they uncover all sorts of things we’ve done or left undone that leave us feeling bad. But we must, if we have any hope of not doing the same bad things over and over. This morning, I’m thinking about how I might spend time in self-reflection to help me identify the things I shouldn’t have done in the first place. Hopefully someday I’ll learn to stop doing them in the first place.

Jun 3 2022 Day 361 2 Revelation 6:1–8:05

God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.


This is an example of taking something from Scripture entirely without context. It happens all the time, and it shouldn’t. Especially when the snippet is used to support a position that is not Love, is not of God. It’s always a danger to do this, because we do something called ‘proof texting’. We find little bits of Scripture to support our position. Maybe it’s ultimately a good proof, or truly supportive of our position. Frequently it is not. It’s a no-no in the world of theology or sermon writing; the risks for confirmation bias are too great.

But I patently do not understand the context of this sentence. The angels are around the throne with all living creatures, and a multitude of people from every language, tribe, people and nation, dressed in white robes, carrying palms. I’ve been schooled enough to know that the people are martyrs – palm branches being held by saints in icons is a symbol they were martyred. These multitudes come to the throne to worship God, and there’s a list of things God will do for them, including wiping away every tear. That’s the best I can do with context. Now on to using this bit to support my position.

This is a group of martyrs; they’ve given their lives for their faith. They were not spared hard times. Their hard times were far harder than mine, or any of us who are still living. They were killed. Having a faith in God does not indemnify us from harm. It does not mean we can skirt tragedy. What it does mean is that God is with us during that trial and tragedy. We are not alone.

Not only is God with us, but God will wipe away our tears. To be honest, I’d like to not live through the things that create the tears in the first place, but apparently, that’s not how this life works. But as a person of faith, I absolutely believe that I am comforted during the tragedy in this life, as well as in the next – God will wipe away my tears.

Some of my warmest memories are when I’m falling apart and I receive comfort. Crying over children’s troubles, or life circumstances, or health happens. And when I’m that distraught, comfort is so powerful. That’s what love looks like. Someone else is sharing my pain. It doesn’t make the trouble go away, but it lifts my burden immensely, even if it’s only a hug.

To be in the place where God will wipe away my tears – that sounds heavenly (pun intended).

This morning, I’m thinking about how to show that comfort to others in this life. It’s a sure sign of God’s love.

Jun 2 2022 Day 360 Revelation 3:1–5:14

Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me.



It comes as no surprise to anyone who’s accompanied me on this walk through Scripture. I struggle through Revelation. All this talk of seas of glass, and sheep with seven horns. I see these things as described which is entirely unhelpful. And because the narrative is nearly inaccessible to me, I dismiss the narrator.

I’m grateful for the accompanying reflections in this study, as they provide me with a new way to think about the readings. This morning’s reflection asks when have I heard Jesus standing at the door knocking. When have I heard Jesus’ voice and opened the door. When has Jesus entered and eaten? When have I?

Because I have dismissed the narrator of these stories, I was struck that the reflection suggested it was Jesus. Granted, it’s Jesus through John’s unique view of the world. I shouldn’t be surprised. But there you go.

Jesus saying, I’m standing at the door knocking. Open it up, and I’ll join you. Wow. I get flashes of this notion in the oddest times. Sometimes it’s when I’m serving at church, and something strikes me new. Sometimes it’s a particularly poignant song. Sometimes it’s when I’m praying and writing. Frequently it’s when I’m out in the world with the broken.

But like my reading of Revelation, it’s too easy to dismiss the narrator of the scene. If I find something that isn’t consistent with my world view or my understanding, I can dismiss the scene. What a loss! Just like my previous dismissal of Revelation, I’ve probably dismissed Jesus’ knocking because I didn’t understand or didn’t like the scene.

I can think of situations in my home and in my community where Jesus was probably knocking for a long time, and I didn’t hear – or refused to hear – because I didn’t understand or didn’t agree with scenario. Whether it’s my loved one, or particularly snarly church members, or a complex street scene, there are plenty of times when I’ve obstinately not listened to the knocking. 

This morning, I’m thinking about how to remain open to the scenes and people around me, without disregarding some because I don’t understand or don’t appreciate. I’m thinking about how many times Jesus has been knocking and I ignored it. What a missed opportunity to share a meal with Jesus!

Jun 1 2022 Day 359 Revelation 1:1–2:29

Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.


In my tradition, when scripture is read in corporate worship, it is ended with a sentence and a response from the people. Historically, that phrase has been, “The word of the Lord”, and the response, “Thanks be to God”. A newer response is making its way into some services. “Listen to what the Spirit is saying to God’s people” – “Thanks be to God.” I’ve appreciated that alternate response because it is both new and makes people take note, and because it is more personally challenging. You, Carter, listen to what the spirit is saying. Yes, of course. Thanks be to God.

Just yesterday, I was pulling together a liturgy for a deacon event for this weekend, “The Life and Work of Deacons”. What’s the prayers, what psalms, what readings, and what responses after the readings. Both of the concluding sentences above were listed as options. But so was, “Listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches” – “Thanks be to God”. I’ve never heard that sentence used, and until this morning, had no idea of its origins.

In this final book of Scripture, John is writing to seven churches. He greets the people, outlines their problems or failings, and concludes with “Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.” I think this has become my new favorite.

I like this closing because of my wrong-headed appreciation of the “Listen to what the Spirit is saying to God’s people”. Despite being personally shaken by the notion that the Spirit is speaking to me personally, when I’m in public worship, it’s not about me. To be clear, the Spirit is speaking to me personally. But when we are gathered, we are more than a bunch of individuals; we become THE CHURCH.

In addition to speaking to me personally, the Spirit speaks to the group of people with whom I’m gathered. The Spirit speaks to THE CHURCH with whom I’m gathered. The Spirit speaks to every group of gathered Christians – to every CHURCH - throughout the world and throughout time.

Christianity cannot be solely an individual thing. When it does, everyone’s personal Lord and Savior is at risk of becoming a mirror of themselves, and in conflict with everyone else’s personal Lord and Savior. We are better Christians when we are required to struggle with the vast differences between us. Christ cannot be everything I personally believe, because then Christ cannot be everything you personally believe.

As a motley, un-unanimous group of people who make up THE CHURCH, we believe in and are saved by a Lord and Savior much bigger than any one of us. And as motley, un-unanimous CHURCHES, we believe in and are saved by a Lord and Savior much bigger than any one of our CHURCHES.

In this letter, John is reminding these disparate CHURCHES, or groups of disparate people, that the Spirit is speaking to us all, in all our disparate-ness.

Listen to what the Spirit is saying to God’s Churches. Thanks be to God.

May 31 2022 Day 357 Jude 1–25

These are the grumblers and malcontents; they indulge their own lusts; they are bombastic in speech, flattering people to their own advantage.



This short letter from Jude was intended to be a letter about the common salvation believers shared, quickly turned into a letter about false teaching. Given the theme of false teaching in these later short letters, it must have been a big problem.

Jude describes these interlopers as people who were grumblers and malcontents. They indulged in their own lusts, and flattered people only for their own advantage. I appreciate this concrete way of understanding false teachers. I have known people who are malcontent, who are bombastic in speech and flatter people for their own advantage. I’ve known people in the church who do these things.

Jude is not talking about how these people speak about God, or Scripture. He’s simply pointing out some personal traits that are incompatible with people who are true teachers.

I believe Scripture is the living word; through the Holy Spirit, it breathes and moves and is relevant to us, thousands of years after it was written. I believe Jude’s warnings should be heeded now too. I know people how are mal-content or not content. I know people who are bombastic. I know people who flatter for their own benefit.

What Jude is saying is that if this is what is in their soul, if this is who these people are, then what they say about religion and God may be false; it comes from an inner spirit that is not full of life and love.

We all have bad days; we can all be grumblers. What’s the difference between a person of faith who’s having a bad day and a false teacher who’s malcontent? Can I genuinely spot the difference?

What if we took a hard look at all of the leaders who have faith (political, social, religious, cultural)? What if we used this as the measuring stick against which to measure false and true teachers? What messages would we silence? What would remain? I hope that what would remain would be love and light, justice and mercy.

This morning, I’m thinking about how to identify and discard the messages in modern day that come from false teachers, as Jude describes them. Being able to do that might silence much of the noise in our world.

May 31 2022 Day 356 3 John 1–15

I have no greater joy than this, to hear that my children are walking in the truth.



This is another very short letter from someone who followed the disciple John. It focuses on three church leaders, two of whom are truly following God’s way. The third “likes to put himself first”, not so Christ-like.

This letter is written to one of the followers, and extolls the virtues of hospitality by writing, “Beloved, you do faithfully whatever you do for the friends, even though they are strangers to you”. I love how this effectively says that there are friends who are strangers. I want to live like that.

The accompanying reflection is from Richard Foster and focuses more on what it means to be walking in the truth. He relays a story about the desert fathers (and mothers), who retreated into the desert precisely to figure out how to walk in the truth. At the time of the desert fathers and mothers, the world was asking “how can I get more”, and they asked “what can I do without”. The world asked “How can I find myself” and they asked “how can I lose myself”. The world asked “How can I win friends and influence people” and they asked “how can I love God”.

He writes further that the Anthony, one of the desert fathers sold his belongings and gave away property and retreated to the desert for 20 years of solitude. He was forced to first face and then strip away all of the worldly garbage that got between him and loving God. When he eventually emerged, he was marked with “graciousness, love, kindness, endurance, meekness, freedom from anger, and the practice of prayer.”

I believe there is great wisdom in this notion that’s thousands of years old. We need to strip away the things of the world that distract us from our truest calling – love God and love Neighbor.

This morning, I’m thinking about what I can prune from my life to provide space for me to walk in God’s truth.

May 29 2022 Day 355 2 John 1–13

From the elder to the elect lady and her children..



I do not routinely read Scripture with a feminist eye. I wouldn’t even call myself a feminist. And having read through the Holy Book, I am startled at void women play. Of course it’s a sign of the times; women really were not an equal part of society. I write that and realize the absurdity of the statement; it was 1974, in my lifetime, that women were allowed to get credit cards in their own names.

Whether it’s the celebrated Bad Girls of the Bible (a fun book to read), or the very few names highlighted in Matthew’s genealogy, women’s recorded role in the early church was so limited, when it appeared people took note.

To be clear, I don’t believe women’s role in the early church was inconsequential; rather, it was just not recorded – with very few notable exceptions. Anyone who’s been a mother, or had a mother knows the role women play in the family – even a patriarchal family. Women are arguable the glue, and probably have been forever. As the child bearers, women cannot help but have a special relationship with children, and children are the next generation of leaders.

This brief letter, entitled 2 John, was written to a woman, an unnamed woman to be sure, but a woman. She was likely the leader of a small house-church. True to form, we don’t know her name and the letter is known as the second letter of John.

This morning, I’m thinking about the unnamed, and quieted role women must have paid in the stories of Genesis through Revelation. I’m intrigued and curious and might want to learn about this more.

May 29 2022 Day 354 1 John 4:1–5:21

Those who say, “I love God,” and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.


You’d think this would be a summarily positive book from scripture. It talks a lot about loving God, and the requisite loving neighbor. And do not misunderstand. I’m all in about loving God and loving neighbor.

I believe this letter was written by someone in the disciple John’s sphere, and that was a place and time where Christians were persecuted. As a result, John’s gospel and these letters draw a bright line around Christians, and everyone else. This letter goes so far as to say that any spirit that does not that Jesus Christ is the antichrist.

I understand that some Christians believe that Jesus is the only way to God; John certainly did. And maybe that is true. But Jesus himself pointed to God – the same God that is also called Allah and Yahweh. Perhaps I don’t follow Muslim teachings, but to suggest that devout, loving, Muslims who are children of God are the antichrist, seems like the opposite of loving your neighbor. It seems like it would be hard to love someone you’d called out as the antichrist.

So after the antichrist pronouncement, I wonder who this letter is talking about – loving God you cannot see, and loving your neighbor who you can. Was he only talking about the neighbors who agreed with him? Again, that makes me nervous.

I’m reminded of a quote from John Spong, an Episcopal Bishop who wrote, ““God is not a Christian, God is not a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Hindu, or a Buddhist. All of those are human systems which human beings have created to try to help us walk into the mystery of God. I honor my tradition, I walk through my tradition, but I don't think my tradition defines God, I think it only points me to God.”

I know Bishop Spong is not canonized in Scripture. But Jesus was. And Jesus used the Samaritan woman as an illustration of who is defined as your neighbor. And I don’t think the Samaritan woman professed Jesus as son of God.

I think Jesus’ love is broader and deeper than any human since then. I’d go so far as to suggest that Jesus’ love was absolute and all-inclusive. Anyone who tries to use the term antichrist, or to draw boundaries around who’s acceptable and who’s not, that person is not professing the same radical love as Jesus. That person is more likely trying to conform Jesus’ love to something that more closely matches their understanding of who is worthy of love and who’s not.

This morning, I’m thinking about how much better it is to be a Jesus follower than an John or Paul follower. We humans get it wrong too often.

May 27 2022 Day 353 1 John 1:1–3:24

Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed.



This first letter of John is all about love. Love God. Love your Neighbor. If you don’t love your neighbor, you walk in darkness. Part of the reason we can walk in the light is because we are God’s children now, not children of the world.

This I’ve heard before. But the second part of this sentence struck me as new, or at least it felt new today. What we will be has not yet been revealed. I like this. I don’t remember how I answered as a kid, but if you were to ask me now what I want to be when I grow up, I have no idea. What I’ve become as an adult is fascinating, and I would never have dreamed of this life.

Of course, I’ve no idea what I will be after my death. But even before then, I get this sense that my tomorrow will reveal itself tomorrow. It’s a glorious unfolding of my days and years. I’ve had some weird turns, and at the time, they made no sense.

Even now, looking back, some of the twists in my life still don’t make sense. But it still feels like a glorious unfolding. But what I will be tomorrow, next year, ten years from now, has not yet been revealed. But I’m certain it will be glorious.

May 26 2022 Day 352 2 Peter 3:1–18

But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.



This is the closing request of the second letter of Peter. Grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus. Seems simple enough. But the accompanying reflection, from Dallas Willard, challenges the simplicity of this. He writes that the church has been “smothered by mass culture, mindless “prosperity,” insipid education, and pseudo-egalitarianism.” As a result, the church has lost the ability to help the individual grow in grace and knowledge in Jesus.

Willard strengthens his case with a quote from John Wesley. Wesley wrote that the early church believed that the soul and body make the person, while the spirit and discipline make the Christian. He continues by questioning where is the Christian, because where is the discipline?

From these two perspectives, I surmise that the church has lost its way in the business of supporting the person in their growth in grace and knowledge, and at the same time, the person has lost its way in Christian discipline. Both of these losses are felt by the individual, both the individual who is trying to grow, and the one who’s grown apathetic.

While sad, I think this is true. Many churches have lost sight of their mission to grow Christians. When the mission of the church becomes something other than that, the individuals don’t grow as Christians. As a deacon, I’m all about the causes, about righting the wrong, striving for justice, comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable. And I know that without a strong Christian spirit and discipline, I’ve got no one to bring with me, and I cannot do it alone.

As an individual, I absolutely fall prey to the lack of Christian discipline. It is so much easier for me to go out and do, or to write, or to organize. To be regularly refueled, I need an ever-growing Christian discipline so that I can grow in the grace and knowledge of Christ. I’m not suggesting I don’t do anything, but my tendency will always be to short-change the prayer and discipline, so I can go set the world on fire.

This morning, I’m thinking about how to stay fueled, to grow in my Christian discipline, so I can do some constructive afflicting.

May 25 2022 Day 351 2 Peter 1:1–2:21

[F]or people are slaves to whatever masters them.



The author of 2 Peter is extolling the virtues of patience. At the same time, he’s condemning the false prophets, who at one point were aware of the Good News, but fell away due to a love of the world.

He explains that people speak “bombastic nonsense”, and they promise freedom but are slaves of corruption. Being a slave is something I’ve always thought of as something done to another person. Someone is involuntarily enslaved. This author is arguing that people enslave themselves. They become slaves to whatever masters them. Yes! And the problem with this self-enslavement is that we frequently don’t even see it happening. One thing leads to another, and eventually we’re beholden to a master we would otherwise never choose.

I’m a little nervous about this very phenomenon in my home. This morning, at 5:30, my loved one came down to chat. We got up out of bed, while they sat at in the kitchen. Never mind that we were previously sleeping. Honestly, that sense of immediate gratification is a symptom of their significant brain disorder, but it’s tiresome to be sure.

We groggily made our way to the kitchen. It turns out, they wanted to know if we had any work for them today, so they could get paid. This is in addition to a monthly allowance as well as other less-than-ideal-but-legal ways to get cash, all of which is spent. Their next allowance payment will arrive in the beginning of June. Um, not sure if we have any work. Are you sure? How about mowing? We did that already. How about . . . .? Not sure.

When that wasn’t immediately fruitful, they asked if we’d pay them for work yet to be done. We replied, we don’t have cash. Can we go to the ATM now so you can get cash and pay me? Um, no. We don’t prepay for work you haven’t done.

With this, they stormed out, slammed the door and exclaimed that they won’t be taking their morning medications either. Slam!

Unfortunately, my loved one is a slave to some master, self-enslaved. On one hand, this signifies fleeting good news. They have been so symptomatic and sick that they were unable to have reasoned conversations with us for the past three years. So to have them argue so clearly (and yet so wrong-headedly) is a sign that their symptoms are not as pronounced.

But that is fleeting, as they’ve connected taking their meds with somehow punishing us or being something that will hurt us. While that is true, it will hurt them more.

Being involuntarily enslaved by schizophrenia is horrid. Being voluntarily enslaved by anything is insidious, and equally horrid. This morning, I’m thinking about how to support my enslaved love one from all their masters.

May 24 2022 Day 350 1 Peter 3:1–5:14

But rejoice insofar as you are sharing Christ’s sufferings, so that you may also be glad and shout for joy when his glory is revealed. 

Rejoice when we suffer. This is not a normal reaction to suffering. By definition, suffering means to be exposed to or to experience something bad or unpleasant. To be human means to suffer, whether in our own experiences or those of our loved ones. How could our reaction to that be to rejoice?

The accompanying reflection provides some further thoughts. It’s from Pope John Paul II, and contemplates the cross. He writes that the cross is the very symbol of our Christian faith. A cross is an icon – a sign of things much more complicated than two perpendicular lines. With the cross, we see how humanity treated Jesus. Through that, we see how we treat each other. Jealousy, betrayal, abuse, and ultimately killing. The cross is the sign of all things evil. And we gladly adorn our houses of worship, homes, and ourselves with this icon.

But greater than these evils, the cross is the sign of all things good. Restoration, renewal, forgiveness, defeat of evil, life.

The cross isn’t one or the other. It isn’t an icon of only bad or good. It tells us of both. If we forget that and only see the good, we lose the incredible joy that the good brings, because we haven’t contemplated walked through the suffering.

This is why and how we rejoice at suffering. It’s when we suffer that Christ’s love and power and mercy are so starkly amazing. This reminds me of when I’ve been sick and that first day when I’m feeling better. I feel like I can leap tall buildings. The contrast between how I felt before and how I feel when I’m even a little better is predictable, and I’m more grateful for the good, after having been through the bad.

This morning, I’m thinking about how to read even more into a cross, how to see it as both an icon of the suffering and the subsequent greater joy that we experience as Christians.

May 22 2022 Day 349 1 Peter 1:1–2:25

When he was abused, he did not return abuse; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly.

Peter is writing to a people who’ve been persecuted. Immediately before this passage he’s talking to slaves, telling them to abide their masters, both their fair and just masters and the unjust. Now, I’m not condoning slavery or bad masters, but I am struck by this comparison to Jesus.

Peter writes that when Jesus was abused, he did not return the abuse, and when he suffered he did not threaten. He even writes that he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly. But before that ultimate judgment, he did stand before the earthly judges, who passed a judgment of cruel, public execution. And yet, Jesus did not act.

Through all of that, the abuse, suffering, false judgment and execution, he kept his entrusted himself entirely to the one who judges justly.

How are we to understand this, in the light of modern-day slavery, corruption, aggression, war and murder? Are we to just suffer, keeping our eyes on God? What about the notion that we are to help?

These references about Jesus are about his personal life, his personal suffering, his personal abuse, and ultimately, his personal death. About these things and about his personal life, he had absolutely trust in God, the most just judge. Jesus did not alter these actions, or seek retribution, or return fire with fire. He kept his eyes focused on God.

When he saw suffering in others, abuse in others, he acted. He healed, he protected, he loved. He carried their burdens. But he did not use his fully-divine nature to change the course of his God-made-man life.

This morning, I’m thinking about how to carry my burdens with without complaint, while at the same time keeping my eye on the just judge, and striving to alleviate the suffering of others.

May 19 2022 Day 348 James 3:1–5:20

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a town and spend a year there, doing business and making money.” Yet you do not even know what tomorrow will bring.

Yes! What business do we have saying that tomorrow or next week or next year, we will do something in particular. My husband and I have learned this well. At one time, we were going to get jobs overseas with our family. We even tried it, with him taking an assignment in Iraq for six months. Alas, six weeks in, his office was ruined in a car bomb, so he returned home.

There was a time, probably 10 years ago when we thought we were going to try to retire early, buy a small RV, and travel the country. I even went so far as to buy him a beautiful guide book to all of the national parks. We’d even had our first trip planned. Then his parents’ health declined, and they moved across the country to live with us.

Next we thought we were going to sell our big expensive things that tied us down, like house and car, and move into an apartment in downtown Portland. We even did it for about 3 months. Then schizophrenia happened. We moved out of the apartment, bought a house and car and settled down for the long haul in Portland. Then I lost my job and ministry.

So here we sit, across the country in Pittsburgh, with a multi-family home and a car and with our loved one living upstairs. We are even contemplating purchasing another former grand home to renovate and rent for below-market in this lovely, if not tired community.

And yet, I have zero confidence that our ‘plans’ for the future will turn out as we’ve imagined; none of our plans so far have. This letter to Timothy continues, suggesting that instead of us stating our plans, we should open each plan with ‘If the Lord wishes, we will do this or that’. Isn’t that the truth?

I haven’t quite gotten to the place where I hand it over to God’s will. I know it’s true, but it’s so removed and ethereal. What’s been easier for me is to acknowledge the illness in my house. The significant brain disorder we live with is capricious and arbitrary. Nothing is certain in our circumstances because nothing is certain in our loved one’s. It’s easy to realize that our future is not set, looking at our loved one. And yet, behind the illness, behind the job loss, behind the ill parents, God is ultimately in control.

Although the changes haven’t always been easy, each time, we’ve landed well. That, I absolutely ascribe to God.

This morning, I’m thinking about ascribing to God my entire future. Sure, I have thoughts about what’s happening next, but it’s all ultimately up to God. Sometimes it’s easier to be a passenger anyway.

May 21 2022 Day 347 James 1:1–2:26

For if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say, “Have a seat here, please,” while to the one who is poor you say, “Stand there,” or, “Sit at my feet,” have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts?



Several years ago, I was serving at a church in Oregon. I was in the middle of reading the Gospel, standing in the aisle, with two acolytes standing next to me with their lighted candles called torches. Everyone was standing and watching me, or if not me, the Gospel book. In the middle of this, a woman came in to the space with her three kids under 5. She’d been there before once or twice so people recognized her. I doubt anyone knew her name.

She shuffled in, tried to juggle kids to get into the pew and the children were noisy, like small kids are. All eyes turned from me to her. I paused reading, and momently was testy, because she’d interrupted me. But then I noticed all of the others in church and their expressions. They were visibly sneering, exasperated, and looking down their noses. That made my frustration instantly disappear. There’s nothing like your own ugly behavior magnified in others, to point out just how ugly it is.

The mother didn’t understand the cultural norms of the church. Wait until the reading is finished before walking in. Put your children in the nursery instead of having them disrupt others. Don’t look like an exasperated single mother, even if you are.

If the woman who’d come in was well heeled, or the children were not quite so dirty and loud, I fully believe she’d been more welcomed. The congregation had made precisely the judgment James is warning against. The mother did not return, and I cannot blame her.

In contrast, I’ve attended a congregation in a very urban setting, that frequently gets worshippers who are homeless, or clearly in some mental health crisis. The congregation is deeply caring and tolerant. It can be done.

Of course, this plays out in all the places I find myself: in the grocery store, on the street, at work. Why is it that we do that? Why is it people who are poor and disheveled are always the ones who are scorned? How can I avoid that moment of frustration or condescension when I’m faced with someone who doesn’t understand or cannot play by my societal or cultural rules? I absolutely do not know. Perhaps this is where God’s grace comes in. Perhaps it’s acknowledging before I go into the store or church or where ever, that everyone I see is beloved in the eyes of God.

This morning I’m thinking about how to invoke God’s grace before I sneer.

May 19 2022 Day 346 Hebrews 12:1–13:25

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.



In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus says that in order to inherit eternal life, the wealthy lawyer need to love his neighbor. But who is my neighbor? Jesus continues with the story of the Good Samaritan. A perceived enemy of the Jewish people, it was the Samaritan who stopped to help the man who’d been left for dead. The implication is clear. You need to love your neighbor, even the neighbor you perceive as the enemy. 

This teaching from Hebrews is in the similar vein and in some ways, even more expansive. Not only are we to love our neighbors, we are to show hospitality to strangers. In the biblical sense, to love someone isn’t an emotion or a sentimentality. It’s an active verb requiring empathy and action. And still, it’s sometimes easier to think about loving your neighbor in a figurative way.

I’ve heard people explain that their love for the enemy neighbor exhibits itself in weekly prayer for political leaders with whom they vehemently disagree. I’m quite sure that’s not what Jesus meant, with the story of the Samaritan. And still, we all do it. We try to show some empathy for the addict, or the convicted. But empathy alone doesn’t show love. It’s necessary but not sufficient. To love our neighbor, we frequently stop short of person-to-person contact.

But to show hospitality? That requires contact. We need to invite, host, share. Being hospitable forces us to connect, at least momentarily. Hospitality is sort of a bite-sized version of love.

To truly love our neighbor, we need to both empathize and pray for them, as well as take actions for their benefit. Frequently, it seems to me, we try to empathize or pray, and stop short of acting. Or we think our thoughts will form and inspire our actions. This, I fear, is the problem with all of the thoughts and prayers about violence. We pray and hold vigils, and then don’t act. We let ourselves off the hook with our good intentions.

What if we turned that around? What if before true empathy and prayers, we acted? What if we showed hospitality to the stranger first? If I share a meal with my less-desirable neighbors, how much easier would it be to empathize, and to truly love them afterwards?

This morning, I’m thinking about how to show hospitality to strangers, so that I might move to the active side of love. With Memorial Day coming up, I have the chance to show hospitality to strangers. What about you?