Every morning I read the scripture assigned by the Episcopal Book of Common prayer, then relax into a short reflection on the reading offered by the quarterly
Forward Day by Day. Every quarter I've culled highlights.
See my responses going back to 2013.
November 2024 - Reflections by Jazzy BostockLove the name! She's a kanaka maoli in Hawaii, an Episcopal priest, farmer, wife, and foster mom.
The story of the rich young man prompts her to tell us that her congregation, far from affluent, sings a song based on that story. They have "wealth" in generosity. She asks us, "Where is your wealth?"
About the measure of yeast, she's amazed how one measure of yeast affects 60 pounds of flour, and how nonviolent resistance by just 3.5% of a population spurs political change.
Seeing Jesus moving forward despite the surety that he will be killed, she thinks of kuleana, the Hawaiian word for responsibility, combining ku for "standing tall and strong," and le'a, "joy." That's a beautiful way to see our prosaic concept of response.
The parables of lost things all end in parties. Jazzy observes that sharing joy multiplies joy for others.
December 2024 - Reflections by Deon K. JohnsonBorn and raised in Barbados, he's the first openly gay, first black, and first immigrant bishop to lead the Diocese of Missouri.
He tells of his parish's monthly community supper made special at Advent when the volunteers brought out the church's china and silverware. A guest told Johnson, "This is the first meal I have had since I lost my home where I didn't feel disposable." They'd always served disposable ware. Johnson realized, "We stumbled upon the gift of dignity in offering our best to Christ in disguise."
He derives some lessons from other writers. Theologian Karl Barth, asked for "his most significant theological insight," said, "Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so." An ancient rabbi said you can know when the New Day dawns when you can see others as brothers and sisters -- till then, the world is in darkness. Someone said the opposite of faith isn't doubt; it's absolute certainty.
He draws on experiences in rural places. "Let us walk in the light of the Lord" (Is. 2.5) reminds him of the neighborhood children playing to the last bit of sunlight in summer, until the lights came on. He still remembers his grandmother's voice, and he assures us, we all know God's voice -- just listen. He owns chickens, he writes, each with her own distinct personality (one likes to climb on him when he brings out food), and they are "communal in the best and worst ways." They're not what comes to mind when he thinks of God, but that's the image in Mt 23.37. Johnson concludes, "there's deep wisdom in a chicken."
He may have been a witness to what he describes among the Bemba tribe in Zambia, where villagers ring an offender and one by one offer stories of his kindness and goodness to them. When all have spoken, the circle breaks and the offender goes free. This came to mind when Jesus says to the woman taken in adultery, "Neither do I condemn you" -- his attention and mercy having (we imagine) a life-changing effect.
He enunciates a core belief for me: "We want an extraordinary God and instead, we get a God who calls the ordinary to do extraordinary things."
January 2025 - Reflections by Jackie Fulop
A Montessori elementary teacher, Jackie Fulop lives in Danville VA with her husband, priest-in-charge at Christ Church. And she's a self-confessed "word nerd" who delights me with her discovery that "trust" and "tree" share the same
root. "I become like a tree -- supported, sustained, and standing firm -- grounded by my faith in God, despite any turmoil that threatens to uproot me."
She opens up the "gate" image, too. I think of it as an entrance where one may be barred; she looks at "gates" as "places of transition," as when Jacob saw the gates of heaven open. Jesus says, "I am the gate," and he's there "between what my life was and what I hope it will be."
"The pilgrim's way" in Psalm 84 calls to her mind a cross-country drive she made without a plan, veering off-course for beautiful sights and some desolate places, always confident in the eventual arrival. Wherever our path wanders, we will arrive at God, says the psalm.
Psalm 118 is one of those psalms of revenge on your enemies, off-putting for the author, until she thinks that your worst enemies may be internal ones. She observes that the psalm is bookended by gratitude, an effective defense against anxiety.
She always reads blame into the question Jesus asks of the lame man who doesn't make his way to the healing fountain: "Do you WANT to be made well?" But suppose it's "Do YOU want to be made well?" Then it's Jesus scanning the crowd to find one who can't push his way there. Jesus takes the healing to him. I like that - and it's something I can emulate. (As a teacher, I certainly tried to notice the ones who were afraid to ask for what they wanted.)
Another hard-nosed and domineering Biblical expression about putting all things under Christ's feet is softened by the translator Eugene Paterson, who reads this as, "Christ is not peripheral in the world, but central." Really? Fulop asks, when the church faces "diminishing membership, loss of influence," and highly negative perceptions among 90% of adults under 60. We don't have to dominate, but we should be working with God to put Christ in the center.
"But who do YOU say I am?" Jesus asks Peter. Good question for each of us, today.
Fulop was always bothered by the passage about the unforgivable "blasphemy against the Holy Spirit" in Mark 3.29 until she paired it with Isaiah 44, about those woodworkers who bow down to idols they've carved, then cook dinner on the ashes of the wood leftover. They call the good evil and the evil, good. Fulop says that the unforgivable sin is "moral obtuseness."
Paul's conversion brings to her mind something by Paula D'Arcy: "God comes to you disguised as your life."
Fulop reminds us that the Hebrew word chesed is different from the words we use to translate it (mercy, compassion, goodness, steadfast love) because all of those are emotions, or emotion-adjacent. But chesed is an inherent quality of God, something she affirms with her favorite punctuation --!
