Our Hearts Are Fertile Ground - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 5/7/2024 •

Tuesday of the 6th Week of Easter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Image: Adaptation, Pixabay

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

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

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

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

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

A Lasting Inheritance - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Monday • 5/6/2024 •

Monday of the 6th Week of Easter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

What We Celebrate - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Friday • 5/3/2024 •

Friday of the 5th Week of Easter

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

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

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

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

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

Image: Pixabay

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

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

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

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

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

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

I pray you live in that comfort and strength today. 

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+

Safe and Protected - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 5/2/2024 •

Thursday of the 5th Week of Easter

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

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

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

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

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

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

Image: Pixabay

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

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

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

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

Wednesday • 5/1/2024 •

Wednesday of the 5th Week of Easter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+

Peace Between God and Us - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 4/30/2024 •

Tuesday of the 5th Week of Easter

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

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

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

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

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

Image: Adaptation, Pixabay

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

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

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

Takeaways:

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

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

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

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

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

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

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

Monday • 4/29/2024 •

Monday of the 5th Week of Easter

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

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

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

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

Image: Pixabay

Paul writes this paragraph to assure believers of five things:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be blessed this day. 

Reggie Kidd+

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, 2 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. 5 Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them, and they were struck down in the wilderness.

6 Now these things occurred as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil as they did. 7 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+