Worship Renewal - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 6/11/2024 •

Welcome to Daily Office Devotions. I’m Reggie Kidd. Thanks for joining me. 

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

They come from a season in my life when I was on a journey from more generic free-form worship to worship shaped by the classic liturgy. I hope these observations help you in your own quest to love God and your neighbor.  

  

“Bigger Voices” 

My father was a victim of Alzheimer’s disease. It was hard to watch this once vibrantly inquisitive retired college professor lose his ability to remember. Along with his ability to remember, he lost his capacity for learning as well. For a brief stint, my dad stayed in a facility for the “pleasantly confused.” As we were moving him in to is new home in the memory care unit, I noticed flaps over the elevator controls. 

“Why the flaps?” I asked a nurse. 

“It’s how we keep residents from leaving their floor and wandering off.” 

“I don’t get it. How does that work?” 

“A person like your father doesn’t just have memory issues. Although he can’t remember old things, he can’t learn new things either. So no matter how many times he might see someone lift the flap and press the button underneath, he can’t learn it for himself.” 

In that moment, I realized the phrase “pleasantly confused” was a nice way of describing something quite sad: being trapped in the present. 

Image: "330_capo" by Lamerie is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0  

We are in the midst of one of the realignments — writer Phyllis Tickle calls them “rummage sales” — the faith goes through every 500 years or so. Around A.D. 500 there was a Great Consolidation, around A.D. 1000 a Great Schism, around A.D. 1500 a Great Reformation. Now we are experiencing, she maintains, a Great Emergence. 

Just what it is that will emerge is unclear. Everything seems to be up for grabs — how to worship, whom to worship, why worship in the first place. One thing that is clear, at least to me, is this: privileged — or consigned — to live in such a time, we need wisdom greater than our own. When David Crowder sings, “I need a voice bigger than mine,” I feel him. Our capacity to contribute to the future hinges on our access to “bigger voices” that free us from entrapment in the present. 

When I first started designing worship services, my main goal was to pick songs that complemented the sermon and that did not require changing the capo setting on my guitar. I was using a screw-on capo that took about a minute to adjust. So the ideal set of worship music consisted of songs that could be played, say, at “capo 3” (like Eb, Bb, or F) or in “open capo” (like C, G, or D). It was pretty confining. 

Eventually, not only did I figure out other capos existed, more importantly I started teaching worship in a school that valued the theology of the Great Reformation. From those “bigger voices” of a half millennium ago, I learned the value of creeds and confessions in worship. 

Recent years have taken me further back, to those “bigger voices” that gave us the Great Consolidation in the middle of the first millennium. 

The 4th century theologian Athanasius of Alexandria argued that worship itself hangs on celebrating the Word’s taking on flesh to redeem all creation. If Christ is God, all is won. If not, nothing is. 

The anonymous 2nd century singers of the so-called Odes of Solomon modeled worship as a participation in Jesus’s own song: “lifting his voice to the Most High and offering to him those who have become sons through him.” 

In the late 6th century, Gregory the Great, bishop of Rome, launched a quest for a common pattern of chant for the Western church. From 1,500 years away, he gently rebukes our capitulation to niche marketing and musical apartheid. 

From Jerusalem to Syria to Rome, churches’ reflection on Scripture led to a common pattern of gathering in praise, attending to the Word, communing at the Table, and joyfully charging back out into the world to minister Christ there. 

Here’s the great thing about rummage sales. They give you a chance to unload some things that haven’t done you much good in a long time. They also give you a chance to rediscover things you’d forgotten you even had, but now can’t believe you’ve been able to live without. There is much the ancient church has to teach us about God, and about the how and why of worship. 

My father’s disease left him living only in the present. He had no access to the past, nor to the future. Perhaps it’s our very access to worship’s past that holds the greatest promise for worship’s renewal in the future. 

Be blessed this day,  

Reggie Kidd+ 

Entrapment in the Present 

“Ancient Future” Resources for Worship Renewal 

Robert Webber, Ancient Future Worship (Baker Books, 2008) 

Athanasius of Alexandria, On the Incarnation (St. Vladimirs Seminary Press, 1993), with an introduction by C. S. Lewis. Text, minus Lewis introduction at http://ccel.org. 

The Odes of Solomon Project, 2CD set (http://www.theodesproject.com/index.cfm). 

Hippolytus, On the Apostolic Tradition (SVS Press, 2001) 

St. Cyril of Jerusalem, On the Sacraments (SVS Press, 1995, 2017) 

Virtual Church - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Monday • 6/10/2024 •

Welcome to Daily Office Devotions. I’m Reggie Kidd. Thanks for joining me. 

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

They come from a season in my life when I was on a journey from more generic free-form worship to worship shaped by the classic liturgy. I hope these observations help you in your own quest to love God and your neighbor.  

  

“Virtual Church — Really?” 

“Maybe we should offer church online.” 

“Really? You mean ‘virtual’ church? ‘Almost’ church?” 

Image: Cathedral Church of St. Luke, Orlando, Florida, online service image 

Several years ago, when my church began to think about offering a real-time and interactive, online way of attending its services, I had doubts. How, I wondered, could worship be authentic if we’re not all actually in the same room? Would “online church” be “narcissistic,” where people hide their actual selves behind a self-inflated electronic persona? Would “online church” be “excarnate,” where we lose person-to-person relationships and diminish the “embodiedness” of Jesus’s existence? 

To the contrary, in some respects my experience of online church can leave me feeling more “connected” than sometimes when I’m in the same room with a lot of people I don’t know. 

From Central FL, I exchange the Peace of Christ with former students in Argentina and Sweden. I meet a Ukrainian national our church has supported for years — and we talk about my maybe coming to Ukraine some time. Sue in western PA is surprised to find her parents in eastern PA worshiping online at the same time. Brad in MO has logged on for the first time, and is blown away when the worship leader welcomes him by name from the platform. Naomi in AL has a question, and Terri in LA responds before the “online minister” can chime in. Bob in NYC is crushingly lonely, and he tells everybody how important being “with them” this morning is to him – he’s blitzed with encouraging remarks and promises of prayer.  

At a given service, we might have 2,000 in the building and 600 online. A few “onliners” worship anonymously, but most give their names and locations, and provide a picture. While the service is being webcast in real time, you can “chat” with anybody who’s logged in, as well as post comments to the whole group. An “online minister” presides, part greeter, part confidant, part prayer request gatherer, part answer-man, part “hall monitor.” And the interaction is non-stop.  

Week after week, people login from home, from an out-of-town Starbucks, from the mission field, or from an overseas military base. Cheerily, they put up with dropped connections or the occasional “off task” remark or rant by a fellow online worshiper. Some folks sing along. Some don’t. Most simply take in the service, but many “chatter” throughout: “Amen-ing” the songs or the message, asking for prayer, offering prayer and encouragement, posing and answering questions, suggesting improvements to the interface.   

Almost as if in answer to my fears about the loss of personal relationships, a committed team of “online ministers” has emerged — of whom I, to my surprise, have recently become a part. We recognize it wasn’t enough for Paul to write to the Romans; he was going to do everything he could to come to them (Rom 1:10-13). So, two of my ministry partners drove hundreds of miles just to be with a fellow who came to faith in Christ through the online ministry. This team works hard to provide a personal touch. They stay in touch by email and phone, following up questions and prayer requests, encouraging clusters among fellow “onliners” who live near each other.  

Almost as if in answer to my concern about people hiding their genuine selves behind “virtual selves,” one of our church members undertook a 10,000 mile odyssey in her van to visit “onliner” individuals, families, and clusters around the country. The images and stories she brought back were of vibrant faithfulness and obedience — of the desire to be anything but merely a virtual self. She met folks grateful to be included as “living stones” in a great house God is building by the Spirit (1 Pet 2:4-5).  

They are a part of the Story of Jesus. He came in bodily form, died and rose that we might one day have perfected bodies. He promised to return bodily, and in the meantime called us to be communities that continue his incarnate life in the world. So, while Jesus no longer, for now, occupies a single physical space on earth, we gather to celebrate a Presence that’s not confined to our gathering.  

Bob Webber used to say that while modern technology created the broadcasting church, postmodern technology was going to lead to an interactive church. Maybe he was right. If there weren’t a massive hunger for connectedness in our world, there would be no Facebook, no Twitter. If there weren’t an urgent quest for immediate, at-your-fingertips information, there would be no Wikipedia community. Wherever believers are, we find the same longings. Because it offers flexibility of expression and immediacy of fellowship (where it’s not weird if you ask people for prayer the moment you show up), perhaps “virtual” church will help “normal” church become more “real” church.  

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+ 

A Listening Faith - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Friday • 6/7/2024 •

Friday of the Second Week After Pentecost (Proper 4)  

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 40; Psalm 54; Ecclesiastes 5:1-7; Galatians 3:15-22; Matthew 14:22-36

This morning’s Canticles are: 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 is the Wednesday following Trinity Sunday. This week, we are contemplating passages from Proper 4 — I want to give some attention to the early chapters of the Book of Ecclesiastes and of Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

Sometimes the Lord takes the props away. For our Cathedral family during the first months of the coronavirus pandemic, it was the beautiful building, the physical bread and wine, the hugs at the peace, the voices blended in praise. Sometimes other things get removed from people—a secure income, good health, close friends, a fulfilling job, a feeling of God’s presence. Your mother – or father – or spouse – or child dies. Your dog (or cat) dies. It’s awful. Sometimes all the supports disappear, and it’s just you — and the emptiness, the “vanity.” Or — it’s you — and God. 

Whatever has been the process, the Lord, in his kindness, has brought Solomon to such a place. Over the course of this week’s readings in Ecclesiastes, we have observed Solomon’s increasingly unhappy depictions of the limited satisfactions of pleasure and power, of ambition and wisdom — of life itself. He’s come to the end of himself. And he realizes it’s either him and the void (“Vanity of vanities. All is vanity.”). Or it’s him and God.

Wisely, he chooses God. But even here (Ecclesiastes being a book all about dead ends) a narrow window opens to him showing how even the choice of “religion” can be a dead end. There’s a way to try to relate to God that is itself vanity. 

Image: Philipp Otto Runge, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons, unfinished altarpiece that was originally commissioned to furnish the chapel in Vitt on Rügen, circa 1806-1807

A listening faith. “…to draw near to listen is better than the sacrifice offered by fools…nor let your heart be quick to utter a word before God…It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not fulfill it.” — Ecclesiastes 5:1,2,5. There is an approach to God himself that is a “sacrifice offered by fools.” Effusive religious enthusiasm and over-promising devotion to God lead to one more dead end. 

Paul amplifies the point. The zealot-turned-apostle explains that the giving of the law of Moses was designed from the beginning to make Israel attentive—to listen to the retelling of God’s promise. The law never overrode that promise. The law illuminated our tendency to be lured by sin, to lean into sin — to love sin. The law was intended to lead us to listen for the “why” of the ongoing provision for sacrifice to cover sin. To listen, and hear anew, the promise that God had already made to Abraham of an offspring who would eventually mediate the broken relationship between God and us: “… so that what was promised through faith in Jesus Christ might be given to those who believe” (Galatians 3:22). 

Jesus proves the point. Today’s passage in Matthew shows Jesus, who is Emmanuel (God-with-us) walking on water. One of his more spectacular gifts, right? What is worthy of note is the prelude: “…he went up to the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone… And early in the morning he came walking down…” (Matthew 14:23,25). In other words, he has been up there all night with his Father. Do we imagine the prayers of Jesus that night were one-sided? That Jesus did all the talking, all night long? The One who taught,“When you are praying, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do; for they think that they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him” (Matthew 6:7-8). The book of Hebrews states that “in the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission” (Hebrews 5:7-8). It’s not hard to believe that over the course of his night of prayer, there was a good measure of listening to the Father and communing deeply with him.  With all his superpowers (to apply a modern anachronism), Jesus presents himself among us to show us how to avoid the religiosity that is, in reality, just blather or bloviating vow-making. (A study of today’s Psalm, Psalm 40, reveals a form of honest prayer, displaying expressions of thanksgiving; distress; supplication; and praise.) 

By the way, I’m pretty sure that some features of today’s passage in Matthew are unique to the moment it narrates. I have friends who are skeptical about whether Jesus ever literally walked on water. I’m not. But his walking on the water looks like a “one off” phenomenon designed to make a point. The point was: trust me. Peter’s temporarily-enabled walking on water looks like it provided the teaching moment: Keep your eyes on me, and you’ll be OK. Pay attention to the storm around you, and you’ll sink. The things that transpired physically outside the boat that night appear to be unique to those moments. Their significance for life — let the reader discern. 

Be blessed this day,

Reggie Kidd+

A Sacred Sustenance for Souls - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 6/6/2024 •

Thursday of the Second Week After Pentecost (Proper 4)  

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 50; Ecclesiastes 3:16–4:3; Galatians 3:1-14; Matthew 14:13-21

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

Today is the Wednesday following Trinity Sunday. This week, we are contemplating passages from Proper 4 — I want to give some attention to the early chapters of the Book of Ecclesiastes and of Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

Death & “life under the sun.” For Ecclesiastes, the most obvious dead end is death itself. In the face of death, according to the writer, the best that human observation can offer—the best that we who live “under the sun” can surmise—is: “Who knows whether the human spirit goes upwards and the spirit of animals goes downwards to the earth?” (Ecclesiastes 3:21). If animal existence is all there is, you cope in resignation, just going about your business oblivious to any larger question. And perhaps you raise a glass to the dead or the not-yet-born for not having to lay eyes on a world where the oppressors have power and the oppressed have only tears. Who knows, asks Ecclesiastes, if there’s any point at all to life “under the sun”? 

Image: adaptation, Pixabay

“Who knows, indeed?,” responds the Catholic philosopher Peter Kreeft, “Here under the sun, no one. Unless there should appear here under the sun a man who came from beyond the sun, beyond the horizon of death’s night—unless we saw the Rising Son. But Solomon had not yet seen that man….” (Three Philosophies of Life [Ignatius Press, 1989, p. 47).  

The rest of the Bible, observes Kreeft, provides answers to questions that the book of Ecclesiastes raises: Who knows? What’s the point? Because the rest of the Bible has seen the Man who came from beyond the sun. 

Matthew has seen the Man from beyond the sun. Thus, in our reading today Matthew describes the day the Man from beyond the sun multiplies loaves and fishes to feed people with physical hunger, prefiguring a sacred sustenance for souls. “Taking the five loaves and two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke loaves, and gave them…” (Matthew 14:19). Jesus uses the same actions here that he will use at the Last Supper. Matthew 26:26 recounts, “While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” Matthew wants us to know that these physical provisions are gifts in promise of spiritual nourishment for bearers of the eternal, divine image. We are not soul-less animals! 

Paul, too, has seen the Man from beyond the sun—the Man who shook off the curse of death, who reversed death itself. That is why in yesterday’s reading in Galatians, Paul speaks of being crucified “with Christ.” He declares, “It is “no longer I who live…,” meaning, to paraphrase Ecclesiastes, “I no longer live ‘under the sun’,” (that is, with futility and without purpose). He continues, “…it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). 

And so, in today’s passage from Galatians, Paul rejoices because Jesus’s seemingly meaningless death—which was both like, and unlike, so many other seemingly meaningless deaths before and after his—becomes promise and hope and purpose. It is God’s blessing for Gentiles as well as for Jews (Galatians 4:3). Which is to say, it is for everybody who will believe—for all who refuse to let their horizons be defined by what is observable “under the sun,” and who say instead, “Yes!” to the Rising Son.  

I pray you say “Yes!” to Jesus today. 

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

A Broader Horizon - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Wednesday • 6/5/2024 •

Wednesday of the Second Week After Pentecost (Proper 4)  

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 119:49-72; Ecclesiastes 3:1-15; Galatians 2:11-21; Matthew 14:1-12

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

Today is the Wednesday following Trinity Sunday. This week, we are contemplating passages from Proper 4 — I want to give some attention to the early chapters of the Book of Ecclesiastes and of Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

“To everything, there is a season… — Ecclesiastes 3:1. How lovely it would be to be so perfectly attuned to the need of any moment that you instinctively know whether to plant or pluck, kill or heal, break or build, embrace or not, keep or throw away, be quiet or speak up, love or hate, make war or make peace. I don’t know anywhere in all literature in which this ideal is more elegantly expressed than in these verses. 

Image: Pixabay

“That which is has already been; that which is to be already is; and God seeks out what has gone by.” — Ecclesiastes 3:15. But in any given moment, how does anyone know exactly when, for instance, to be quiet or speak up? From 1 Kings, we think of Solomon as having precisely this sense. He asked the Lord for wisdom, and the Lord made him the wisest person on earth (1 Kings 4:29-34). To illustrate the point, we are given the story of the case of the two prostitutes, disputing over one dead baby and one live baby (1 Kings 3:16-38). 

That’s all well and good. However, here in Ecclesiastes we are given the other side of the coin. What’s it like, asks Solomon in this book, when that gift doesn’t come? When prayers for wisdom seem to bounce off the sky? When the face of God cannot be discerned? When you just don’t know whether to plant or pluck, kill or heal? When you look for answers and all you get is: “That which is, already has been; that which is to be already is; and God seeks out what has gone by”? (Ecclesiastes 3:15). Huh? 

The dead end that this chapter of Ecclesiastes explores is that of having the ethical ideal in principle, but lacking insight into God’s mind to know how to pull it off. Simon and Garfunkel have been there: “Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again….” We’ve all been there. Right now, we’re probably all there to some extent: return to public life, or stay hunkered down? Speak out and risk pouring gasoline on the fire, or be quiet and risk giving way to the haters? 

“‘Give me the head of John the Baptist here on a platter.’” — Matthew 14:8. Then there’s the beheading of John the Baptist. He knew his mission was to point the way to the coming of the Kingdom. The King—who happened to be his own cousin—had come, but as for the Kingdom? Unjustly and cruelly, John the Baptist is martyred before he gets to see the Kingdom come. 

It’s a long line of martyrs, isn’t it? Early in June, in the course of remembrances in the liturgical calendar, these names come before us: Justin Martyr (June 1), Blandina & the Martyrs of Lyons (June 2), the Martyrs of Uganda (June 3). Add big-enough-sinner-but-Jesus-loving George “Big Floyd” Floyd, victim of police violence in May of 2020. And only too recently, one of my doctoral students at the Robt. E. Webber Institute for Worship Studies, Emmanuel Bileya—one of the kindest, sweetest spirits God ever led into ministry—and his wife Juliana, martyred in Nigeria during a vicious ethnic war. 

These deaths are mystifying and cruel—seemingly pointless. If the world worked the way it should, everything would get done in its own time. But in the world as it is, things happen out of season—dancing when there should be mourning, killing when there should be healing, war when there should be peace, throwing stones when there should be gathering. And all along, the face of God seems sphinxlike, his purposes hidden: “That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already is; and God seeks out what has gone by.” 

If the horizon of Ecclesiastes were all there were, these words would be a counsel of despair—the Herods would win, the white cop (and his complicit partners) with a knee on the black man would win, the ethnic cleansers would win. But there is a broader horizon beyond the reach of Ecclesiastes’s Solomon—and there is no counsel of despair. 

Something that George Floyd’s Houston pastor, Patrick PT Ngwolo, said was amazing: “After Cain’s superiority and animosity drove him to kill Abel, Scripture tells us, ‘The Lord said, ‘What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground’ (Gen. 4:10). If you fast-forward 2,000 years, there’s another innocent sufferer whose blood spoke of better things than Abel’s. … Jesus’ blood says he can redeem us through these dark and perilous times.” 

One day, when the last drop of innocent blood has been shed, and the great reckoning takes place, we will find that not one has been wasted. “That” is the hidden thing “which is,” which “already has been; … and “which is to be.” 

All that has been taken,
It shall be restored.
This eternal anthem
For the Glory of the Lord.

• Twila Paris

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

God's Good Timing - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 6/4/2024 •

Tuesday of the Second Week After Pentecost (Proper 4)  

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 45; Ecclesiastes 2:16-26; Galatians 1:18–2:10; Matthew 13:53-58

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

Today is the Tuesday following Trinity Sunday. This week, we are contemplating passages from Proper 4 — I want to give some attention to the early chapters of the Book of Ecclesiastes and of Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

If death truly marks the end, and if death itself is a slide into nothingness, then everything before it is nothingness too—a kind of living death. Trying to live a life worth being remembered for? Pointless: “For there is no enduring remembrance of the wise or of fools, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten” (Ecclesiastes 2:16). Ambitious projects? (And Solomon’s were nothing if not ambitious, and lavish, from palaces to stables to, of course, God’s very house). It’ll all be left for people who didn’t toil for it. Again, pointless: “This also is vanity” (Ecclesiastes 2:18-19). 

Solomon’s perspective is one of a life turned in on itself, and it’s not pretty. But at the end of this paragraph, in verses 24-26, Solomon gets a glimmer of insight. If you see God as the giver of life, it’s possible to receive food and drink as a gift, and even to find enjoyment in the work he gives you to do. If the goal is to please him and not self or posterity, it’s just possible that “wisdom and knowledge and joy” will come.

Image: Adaptation, Pixabay

I linger over one observation from Paul’s letter to the Galatians: that is, that it takes him a decade and a half from his conversion before he puts pen to paper. 

Some things take time. It’s either seventeen years or fourteen years from Paul’s conversion and initial contact with the Jerusalem leaders of the church (scholars still debate the time frame) until he appears to them to lay out his understanding of his call. A lot of water has gone under the bridge: time in Arabia (whether in seclusion or under tutelage) and a decade of ministry in a church of mixed Jews and Gentiles in Syrian Antioch. 

When he does emerge for this consultation, it’s clear that four things have jelled for him. We can be grateful for them—and that he took the time to get them right. First, it is God’s sheer grace in Christ that saves—which is largely the burden of this letter. Second, it is the shape of God’s plan to bring Jews and Gentiles together as equal citizens in the Kingdom of God (Galatians 3:28). Third, it is his mission to pursue the Gentile-inclusion part of God’s plan—so much so, that he will risk alienating key Jerusalem leadership (Galatians 2:3-5, and tomorrow’s passage). Fourth, he is so eager for his fellow Jews to understand God’s reconciling love and power that he plans to raise support among his Gentile churches to support the impoverished Jewish church in Jerusalem: “They asked only one thing, that we remember the poor (i.e., the church in Jerusalem—a story for another day), which was actually what I was eager to do” (Galatians 2:10).

Let me commend to you two ways to pray for God’s good timing—even if it may seem slow to us—to show itself for you and for our world. 

In your own life, first, I pray you not feel like you are stuck in some sort of perpetual hovering pattern, just circling the airport, never landing. Go to him daily, ready to hear him say, “Wait on me,” or “Here we go!”

And when, second, you are frustrated by a world perennially at war, a protracted health crisis, or a society in a seemingly bottomless moral free fall, let me commend to you the Book of Common Prayer’s prayer “For the Human Family.”

O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Be blessed this day,

Reggie Kidd+

Life with Faith - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Monday • 6/3/2024 •
Monday of the Second Week After Pentecost (Proper 4)  

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 41; Psalm 52; Ecclesiastes 2:1-15; Galatians 1:1-17; Matthew 13:44-52

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

  

Today is the Monday following Trinity Sunday. This week, we are contemplating passages from Proper 4 — I want to give some attention to the early chapters of the Book of Ecclesiastes and of Paul’s letter to the Galatians.

Ecclesiastes and life without faith. …and again, all was vanity and a chasing after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun. — Ecclesiastes 2:11. When you’re headed the wrong way on any journey—and especially the journey of life—the first thing you need is the realization that you’re headed the wrong way. As a whole, the book of Ecclesiastes pursues one dead end after another, driving us to a singular conclusion: all that matters is faith—not generic, fill-in-the-blank, to-whom-it-may-concern faith—but faith in a very specific God. This God is Israel’s Lord, the one who gave commandments to his people (that is, the five books of Moses), and who “will bring every deed into judgment, including every secret thing, whether good or evil” (Ecclesiastes 12:13). 

The value of Ecclesiastes doesn’t lie in telling us much of anything about what it is to know this God. The value of Ecclesiastes lies in telling us what it is not to know him, so that we know how much we need to know him. As a study in not knowing God, Ecclesiastes is a study in hell on earth.

Image: Pixabay

Today’s lesson from Ecclesiastes is this: Hell is trying to find life in pleasure—the pleasure of laughter, the pleasure of wine, the pleasure of building houses and planting vineyards, the pleasure of controlling others’ lives, the pleasure of buying anything you want, the pleasure of sex-on-demand, even the pleasure of being known as the smartest person in the room. Pleasure doesn’t satisfy—it only demands more. It ends with boredom: “all was vanity and a chasing after wind” (Ecclesiastes 2:11). 

Galatians and life with faith. The Bible’s direct answer to Ecclesiastes’ despair is Paul’s paean to faith in his letter to the Galatians. God has not, in fact, left us to drown in our despair. He’s come down here himself in the person of his Son, “the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to set us free from the present evil age.” Nor has God left it to us to figure it out on our own. He has sent apostles—and in this instance, Paul—“sent neither by human commission nor from human authorities, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead”—to explain the good news to us. 

I pray you are able to make the most of the powerful juxtaposition of the early chapters of Ecclesiastes and Galatians—the one demonstrating the vanity and emptiness of life without true faith in a living God, and the other showing how to respond in faith to the wonder and fullness of new life granted through Jesus Christ. For his kingdom is, as today’s gospel says, “treasure in a hidden field”—really, it’s worth selling all you have to buy that field so you can have that treasure. 

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

Thinking Large - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Friday • 5/31/2024 •

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

  

Sing a Widescreen, HD Paradise 

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

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

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

Sing the Power of Metaphor 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He gave us divinity, 
We gave him humanity. 

Sing the Whole of the Human Story 

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

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

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

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

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

Sing the Whole of Christ’s Work 

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

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

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

Sing Widescreen, HD 

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

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

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

Be blessed this day,  

Reggie Kidd+ 

Happy Little Trees - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Thursday • 5/30/2024 •

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

  

“Happy Little Trees” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be blessed this day,  

Reggie Kidd+ 

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

Wednesday • 5/29/2024 •

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

  

Undressed for Church 

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

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

Room to Grow 

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

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

Early Church 

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

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

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

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

Overdressed 

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

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

Welcome to Transformation 

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

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

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+ 

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

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

The Peace of the Lord - Daily Devotions with the Dean

Tuesday • 5/28/2024 •

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

  

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

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

I think that’s a good thing.   

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

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

That was Awkward.  

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

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

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

Welcoming Peace 

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

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

Healing Peace  

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

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

Possible applications: 

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

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

The peace of the Lord be always with you, 

Reggie Kidd+