2 November 2025: All Saints Sunday

“Thus a Christian man is righteous and a sinner at the same time, holy and profane, an enemy of God and a child of God.” (Martin Luther)

All Saints Day may have had roots in a pre-Christian Celtic festival honoring the dead, held in early November as autumn fades into winter. For the ancient Celts, a liminal time was a sacred threshold—when the veil between worlds grew thin and the ordinary gave way to the mysterious. These moments, like the shift from harvest to winter, were seen as openings for spiritual encounter, transformation, and ancestral connection. Early Christians honored unnamed martyrs whose faithful witness shaped the Church and by the 4th century, regional communities set aside days to remember the departed. In the 9th century, Pope Gregory IV designated November 1 as All Saints Day in the Western Church. Over time, the celebration grew to include all believers whose lives reflected God’s grace. Lutheran and Anglican traditions preserved the observance, emphasizing the **communion of saints as a living fellowship that spans generations. When we confess this in the Apostles’ Creed, we affirm a spiritual bond rooted not in perfection but in grace—a truth Martin Luther captured in his 1535 Commentary on Galatians with the phrase simul justus et peccator: simultaneously justified and sinner.

Luther honored saints as examples of faith but rejected the Catholic practice of invoking them for intercession. He insisted that Christ alone mediates between God and humanity, and warned that praying to saints or venerating relics distracted from the gospel. For Luther, saints belonged to the body of Christ—not as intermediaries, but as fellow witnesses whose lives point us back to God’s mercy. His theology redirected Christian devotion toward Scripture and the sufficiency of Christ, shaping worship and doctrine for generations. All Saints Sunday, in this light, becomes not a celebration of spiritual elites, but a remembrance of grace at work in ordinary lives.

Virgin and Child with Saints Simon and Jude (Barocci, c. 1567)

Thanks for your visit to this space again this week! It’s hard to imagine that beyond All Saints Sunday we have three Sundays remaining in the church year! Time flies. This week we do commemorate the Apostles Simon and Jude (28 October) and Reformation Day on Friday, as you know. Pastor Jen and Patti Whitworth will be traveling back from Malawi in the early part of the week, and we pray for a safe journey. Also, a reminder that on All Saints Sunday, ELC will have a joint worship experience with our neighbors from the United Church of Christ at the Ho-Chunk Nation District 1 Community Center at the Mission at 2:00. This builds on our collaboration started four years ago. All are welcome!

My reflections this week will focus on the passage from the Sermon on the Plain and its connection to our understanding of sainthood. I’m also sharing a song and prayer that seem especially fitting for All Saints Sunday.

** The “communion of saints” is part of the Third Article of the Apostles Creed. For a good explanation of the history of the Creed and also Luther’s commentary on it, go to this link.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!


** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for All Saints Sunday highlight God’s promise to the faithful, who receive and inherit the kingdom. Daniel envisions holy ones triumphing over chaos, while Psalm 149 celebrates God’s delight in the humble and victorious. Ephesians reminds believers they are marked by the Spirit and destined for a glorious inheritance. Luke’s Beatitudes flip worldly values, blessing the poor and warning the comfortable, showing how saints live by grace, not status. Together, these texts call us to live with hope, humility, and courage as part of God’s unfolding story.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for All Saints Sunday.” Copilot, 24 October 2025, Copilot website.

Lectio Divina is a quiet, thoughtful way of reading the Bible to connect with God. It grew out of early Christian traditions and was shaped by thinkers like Augustine, who believed Scripture speaks to the heart. Augustine didn’t invent the practice, but his ideas helped form its spirit—listening deeply and responding with love. Later, others gave it a clear structure, but its roots go back to that longing for God’s voice.

20 Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
“Blessed are you who are poor,
    for yours is the kingdom of God.
21 “Blessed are you who are hungry now,
    for you will be filled.
“Blessed are you who weep now,
    for you will laugh.
22 “Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you[a] on account of the Son of Man. 23 Rejoice on that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven, for that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.
24 “But woe to you who are rich,
    for you have received your consolation.
25 “Woe to you who are full now,
    for you will be hungry.
“Woe to you who are laughing now,
    for you will mourn and weep.
26 “Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.
27 “But I say to you who are listening: Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; 28 bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you. 29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. 30 Give to everyone who asks of you, and if anyone takes away what is yours, do not ask for it back again. 31 Do to others as you would have them do to you.

Jesus Teaching in Galilee
(A.I. Generated, 2023)
Protestant Theologian Karl Paul Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971)

Reinhold Niebuhr (1892–1971) was a towering figure in 20th-century American theology, ethics, and public thought—a Protestant theologian rooted in the Evangelical and Reformed tradition, yet unafraid to wrestle with the messiness of modern life. He’s best known for developing Christian Realism, a framework that confronts the persistent tension between moral ideals and political necessity, between the call to justice and the reality of sin. I first encountered Niebuhr’s writings in a religion class as a college student in the 1970s — a time when questions of war, civil rights, and institutional power pressed hard on my conscience. His voice—clear-eyed, unsentimental, and deeply faithful—helped me navigate the uneasy terrain where religion and politics meet. He taught me that faith is not an escape from complexity but a lens through which to engage it with humility and courage. As I reflect on this week’s Gospel reading, Niebuhr’s realism echoes: the saints we honor are not plaster-perfect, but those who dared to love in a broken world, trusting that grace can do what idealism alone cannot. Niebuhr once quipped that he didn’t much care for saints—at least not the kind who seemed too perfect, too pious, too removed from the grit of real life. Yet even Niebuhr, with his sharp theological realism, recognized the quiet heroism of those who live faithfully in the tension between ideal and reality (“the impossible possibility,” in his words).

The Sermon on the Plain in Luke 6 marks a defining moment early in Jesus’ ministry, delivered just after he calls the twelve apostles. Unlike Matthew’s mountaintop sermon, Luke places Jesus on “a level place,” symbolizing his solidarity with the crowd—poor, sick, and marginalized. This sermon lays out the ethical heart of the kingdom: blessings for the suffering, woes for the comfortable, and a radical call to love enemies and live mercifully. It’s a manifesto for discipleship in the real world. On All Saints Sunday, this passage reminds us that sainthood is not about moral perfection or spiritual polish. It’s about showing up in the mess, loving enemies, giving generously, and trusting that mercy matters more than merit. Saints are those who, by grace, live into the golden rule with courage and compassion. As we remember the great cloud of witnesses, we’re invited not to admire from afar, but to join them—ordinary people responding to an extraordinary call. Niebuhr put it this way: “The cross symbolizes a cosmic as well as historic truth. Love conquers the world, but its victory is not an easy one.”

Soli Deo Gloria!

Jake Runestad’s Let My Love Be Heard is a poignant choral setting of Alfred Noyes’ brief poem “A Prayer,” composed in 2014 for Choral Arts Northwest. The piece gained emotional resonance in 2015 when students at Cal State Long Beach performed it in memory of Nohemi Gonzalez, a classmate killed in the Paris terrorist attacks. The performance, shared widely online, transformed the work into a communal expression of grief and hope. Musically, the piece builds from a quiet invocation to a soaring climax, with layered harmonies that evoke angels carrying love and longing heavenward. The repeated plea—“Let my love be heard”—offers a sacred echo of remembrance, making it especially fitting for All Saints Sunday, when we honor those whose love still whispers in our lives.

‘A Prayer’ by Alfred Noyes

Angels, where you soar
Up to God’s own light,
Take my own lost bird
On your hearts tonight;
And as grief once more
Mounts to heaven and sings,
Let my love be heard
Whispering in your wings.

The Grammy-nominated British vocal ensemble VOCES8 is proud to inspire people through music and share the joy of singing. Touring globally, the group performs an extensive repertoire both in its a cappella concerts and in collaborations with leading orchestras, conductors and soloists. Versatility and a celebration of diverse musical expression are central to the ensemble’s performance and education ethos which is shared both online and in person.

**Information from the Voces8 Website

“God of the generations,
when we set our hands to labor,
thinking we work alone,
remind us that we carry
on our lips
the words of prophets,
in our veins
the blood of martyrs,
in our eyes
the mystics’ visions,
in our hands
the strength of thousands.” Amen.

The Forerunners of Christ With Saints and Martyrs by Fra Angelico (circa 1395–1455)

Join us for some free-flowing conversation about the Lectionary readings each Sunday. We meet from 10:45-11:30 in the church library each week, with some exceptions. No prior knowledge is necessary! ALL ARE WELCOME! And, let’s discuss these questions when we gather (or any other questions you would like to raise for the group!):

1. Niebuhr spoke of the “impossible possibility” of living faithfully in a broken world. How does this idea challenge or affirm your understanding of sainthood, especially in light of Luke 6:20–31?

2. Luke’s Beatitudes offer a reversal of worldly values. How might this challenge our assumptions about success, holiness, and who we honor in our communities?

THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365
READING CHALLENGE:

Monday 27 October: Exodus 35-40, Psalm 29
Tuesday 28 October: Leviticus 1-4, Psalm 30
Wednesday 29 October: Leviticus 5-7, Psalm 31
Thursday 30 October: Leviticus 8-10, Psalm 32
Friday 31 October: Leviticus 11-13, Psalm 33
Saturday 1 October: Leviticus 14-15, Psalm 34
Sunday 2 October: Leviticus 16-18, Psalm 35

Here is a LINK to the full Bible 365 Plan!

The Bible 365 Challenge!

More than 60 members of our faith community have committed to the Bible 365 Challenge—a shared journey of reading through the entire Bible in one year. Each day, we engage with selected passages weaving together stories of faith, struggle, grace, and redemption. This challenge isn’t just about completing a task; it’s about deepening our spiritual roots, building community, and discovering how scripture speaks into our lives today.

26 October 2025: Reformation Sunday

“This message is not a novel invention of ours but the very ancient, approved teaching of the apostles brought to light again. Neither have we invented a new Baptism, Sacrament of the Altar, Lord’s Prayer, and Creed; nor do we desire to know or to have anything new in Christendom. We only contend for, and hold to, the ancient: that which Christ and the apostles have left behind them and have given to us.” (Luther, Exposition on John, 1537)

“Holy Hill” in Black River Falls, Wisconsin

At the top of Main Street in Black River Falls — locals call it “Holy Hill” — three churches stand like sentinels: St. Joseph Catholic to the south, Evangelical Lutheran in the center, and United Methodist to the north. This quiet stretch holds echoes of five centuries of history. And Luther is a connecting rod in many respects. His bold actions in 1517 lit a fire. And, interestingly, it was Luther’s writing on Romans—his preface to Paul’s letter—that later stirred John Wesley’s heart in 1738, sparking the Methodist movement. On this hill, three traditions meet, each rooted in a story of reform, renewal, and the search for grace.

Katie Luther
(1499-1552)
Wartburg Castle in Eisenach, Thuringia, Germany

Reformation Sunday brings to mind both the power of tradition and the need for renewal. It was on 31 October 1517, 508 years ago, that a 33-year-old Augustinian monk, sent a list of 95 propositions to Archbishop Albrecht of Mainz challenging the Catholic Church’s practice of selling indulgences and calling for theological debate on repentance and grace (sidebar: there is no direct evidence that Luther personally nailed the 95 theses to the church door in Wittenberg, although it very well could have happened). His actions and what followed set in motion the Protestant Reformation. By 1519, followers of Luther were negatively labeled as “Lutherans” (picture opponents sneering) by those opposed to what Luther was doing — a name that eventually stuck. Luther preferred the term “Evangelical” to describe the movement. A few more details for background: Luther’s act of conscience challenging church doctrine led to his eventual excommunication by Pope Leo X (1513-1521) after his refusal to recant his positions at a meeting known as the Diet of Worms four years after his initial actions. Further, he was declared a heretic and outlaw by Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, meaning anyone could legally capture or kill him without consequence. Protected by Elector Frederick of Saxony, Luther was spirited away to Wartburg Castle where he began translating the New Testament into German. In 1525, Luther married Katharina von Bora (1499-1552), a Cistercian nun who fled the convent. Talk about a rebellious power couple!

Augustine Meditating on the Trinity” by Guercino (1663)

How should we view all of this from our 21st Century vantage point? It’s important to realize that Luther did not set out to break with Roman Catholicism. In fact, one can argue that he saw his actions as returning the Church to its ancient roots, as noted in the introductory quote. After all, Luther was steeped in the writings of Augustine (354-430), especially on sin, grace, predestination, and faith. He cited Augustine more than any other non-biblical source and even annotated Augustine’s texts by hand. Most notably, Luther fiercely rejected Pelagianism, believing that human will was bound by sin and incapable of choosing God without divine grace. His stance was shaped by his Augustinian training, which emphasized the total dependence of the soul on God’s mercy. Luther taught that salvation comes not through effort or merit, but through faith alone—a gift initiated by God, not earned by humans. In this view, Pelagianism was not just error but spiritual pride, denying the depth of human need and the power of grace. As Lutherans, we can summarize Luther’s theology with the following phrases: Sola Fide (faith alone), Sola Scriptura (scripture alone), Sola Gratia (grace alone), Solus Christus (Christ alone), and Soli Deo Gloria (To God alone be the glory). To use a football analogy — ala Vince Lombardi — this is the “power sweep” of Lutheranism.

Thanks for visiting this space again this week! We have four Sundays remaining in the church year and next Sunday — All Saints Sunday — is another important milestone. Also, on 26 October, the ELCA commemorates Philipp Nicolai, Johann Heermann, and Paul Gerhardt—three towering figures in Lutheran hymnody whose work gave voice to faith amid suffering. Nicolai, writing during a devastating plague, offered hope through majestic chorales like “Wake, Awake” and “O Morning Star.” Heermann, shaped by personal illness and the ravages of the Thirty Years’ War, penned hymns of tender devotion and theological depth. Gerhardt, enduring profound personal loss and political exile, composed over 130 hymns that blend confessional clarity with heartfelt piety, securing his place as one of Lutheranism’s greatest poets. (Research drawn from Co-Pilot, 19 October 2025).

My reflections this week will focus on the Reformation texts within the theme of tradition and renewal. And, in keeping with the Luther focus, I’m offering one of his hymns and his morning prayer for your interest. In addition, I will be offering a homily on Sunday at ELC related to the Reformation.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!


** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for Reformation Sunday center on God’s liberating promise of renewal, righteousness, and truth. Jeremiah proclaims a new covenant written on the heart, where intimate knowledge of God replaces external law. Psalm 46 celebrates God as a refuge and strength amid chaos, echoing the reformers’ trust in divine sovereignty. Romans and John together affirm that true freedom and justification come not through human effort but by grace through faith in Christ, who makes us free indeed.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Reformation Sunday.” Copilot, 17 October 2025, Copilot website.

Lectio Divina is a quiet, thoughtful way of reading the Bible to connect with God. It grew out of early Christian traditions and was shaped by thinkers like Augustine, who believed Scripture speaks to the heart. Augustine didn’t invent the practice, but his ideas helped form its spirit—listening deeply and responding with love. Later, others gave it a clear structure, but its roots go back to that longing for God’s voice.

Jeremiah 31: 31-34

31 The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 32 It will not be like the covenant that I made with their ancestors when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt—a covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, says the Lord. 33 But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts, and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. 34 No longer shall they teach one another or say to each other, “Know the Lord,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord, for I will forgive their iniquity and remember their sin no more.

John 8: 31-36

31 Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples, 32 and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” 33 They answered him, “We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?” 34 Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. 35 The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. 36 So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

Among the many bold things that marked Martin Luther’s journey, his work in translating the Bible into German made scripture accessible to ordinary people. He began with the New Testament in 1522, completing the full Bible by 1534, using a vivid, earthy style that reflected the spoken language of his time. Luther’s translation drew on Hebrew and Greek sources, emphasizing clarity and theological precision (sidebar: he actually worked with a team, nicknamed the “Sanhedrin” including Philipp Melanchthon, a scholar of Greek and Matthäus Aurogallus, an expert in Hebrew, among others — I cannot imagine how difficult that work was!). By empowering laypeople to read the Bible themselves, Luther’s translation became a cornerstone of Protestant thought and literacy — he would greatly appreciate our “Bible 365” Project! In the Lutheran Study Bible, now in a second edition, there is an excellent section documenting Luther’s approach to the Bible. Notably, he believed that certain parts of the Bible were “more important and/or clear than others,” and suggested that we devote ourselves “especially to John’s Gospel, Paul’s epistles (especially Romans), and 1 Peter.” We also know he held the Psalms in high esteem, calling them “the little Bible.” He read from the Psalms daily and completed the Psalter every two weeks (Psalm 118 was his favorite). And, one last point regarding his view of the Bible (again, from the Lutheran Study Bible): Luther believed the Bible has “a universal and immediate sense, granted by the Holy Spirit and recognized by the eyes of faith that rises above historical conditions and events. Luther heard biblical texts as speaking both to the time in which they were written and to his own time.” Let that observation sink in.

After reading the Reformation texts, here are a few reflections. We’re not the first to face fear, division, or the need for deep renewal—and we won’t be the last. The Israelites in exile, the early Christians under Roman rule, and Martin Luther during the upheaval of the 16th century all struggled with uncertainty and felt the call to return to God’s Word. On Reformation Sunday, we hear Jeremiah’s promise of a new covenant written on the heart—spoken centuries before Christ—and we see it echoed in Paul’s message in Romans: we are justified by faith, not by works. Jesus adds in John’s Gospel that abiding in His Word brings true freedom.

Jesus’ words in John invite us to go deeper—not just to hear the truth, but to live it. Peter Claver Ajer, New Testament professor at Bexley Seabury Seminary in Chicago, offered this powerful insight on John 8:31–32 and Jesus’ teaching on discipleship: “First, it begins with belief. Second, it requires constant remaining in the word of Jesus—listening to the words of Jesus, learning from Jesus, constantly penetrating the truth that the words of Jesus bear, and obeying the words of Jesus. Third, discipleship ushers in knowledge of the truth. To learn from Jesus is to learn the truth. What is that truth? The fundamental truth that Jesus brings shows us the actual values of life and makes each one ask: To what should I give my life? Fourth, discipleship results in freedom: freedom from fear because we are not walking alone, freedom from self because our own self is often the most significant handicap, and freedom from other people since we often fear what other people will say.”

These ancient voices speak with fresh relevance today. The Church faces shrinking membership, cultural division, and a flood of misinformation that distorts truth and erodes trust. Many feel uncertain—about the future of the world, the Church, and their own place in it. But Scripture reminds us that renewal isn’t about creating something new; it’s about returning to what’s true. As we move through 2025 and beyond, we’re called to walk in grace, stay rooted in the living Word, and trust that God still writes hope into human hearts.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Note: My reflections drew heavily on a commentary on John 8 by Professor Peter Ajer, accessed in Working Preacher, part of Luther Seminary’s many resources. In addition, I utilized information from the Lutheran Study Bible (First Edition), pages 1521-1524).

Martin Luther wrote roughly 35 hymns, using music as a powerful tool for teaching theology and nurturing faith. Many of his compositions became central to Lutheran worship. “A Mighty Fortress is our God” is perhaps his most famous (and is based on Psalm 46). He believed deeply in music’s spiritual power, famously stating, “Next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise.

Here is some background on another of his well-known hymns: Luther wrote “Lord, Keep Us Steadfast in Your Word” in 1541 during a time of political and spiritual danger, especially from the Pope and the advancing Ottoman Turks. Originally intended for children’s choirs, the hymn was a plea for divine protection and faithfulness to the Gospel. Its three stanzas address each person of the Trinity, asking for strength, peace, and unity. Though later softened in translation, the hymn reflects Luther’s deep conviction that God’s Word must be defended against all threats. This version of the hymn is by Chant Claire, a notable choir from the Milwaukee area. Luther’s hymns always have a “medieval” feel to me, heavy and majestic. You will note some variation in the lyrics here.

Martin and Katie Luther Engaged in Bible Study
(A.I. generated image)

The Lyrics

1 Lord, keep us steadfast in your Word;
curb those who by deceit or sword
would seek to overthrow your Son
and to destroy what he has done.

2 Lord Jesus Christ, your pow’r make known,
for you are Lord of lords alone;
defend your Christendom that we
may sing your praise eternally.

3 O Comforter of priceless worth,
send peace and unity on earth;
support us in our final strife
and lead us out of death to life.

In the morning when you get up, make the sign of the holy cross and say:

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Then, kneeling or standing, repeat the Creed and the Lord’s Prayer. If you choose, you may also say this little prayer:

I thank You, my heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ, Your dear Son, that You have kept me this night from all harm and danger; and I pray that You would keep me this day also from sin and every evil, that all my doings and life may please You. For into Your hands I commend myself, my body and soul, and all things. Let Your holy angel be with me, that the evil foe may have no power over me. Amen.

Then go joyfully to your work, singing a hymn, like that of the Ten Commandments, or whatever your devotion may suggest.

Martin Luther’s Small Catechism, published in 1529, includes a series of simple, heartfelt prayers designed to guide daily Christian life. Among them are morning and evening prayers, as well as blessings before and after meals, each emphasizing gratitude, trust in God’s protection, and humble dependence on divine mercy. These prayers reflect Luther’s pastoral concern for households, encouraging parents to teach their children not only doctrine but also devotional practice. Rooted in Scripture and accessible language, they remain enduring tools for spiritual formation across generations.

Luther’s Seal

Join us for some free-flowing conversation about the Lectionary readings each Sunday. We meet from 10:45-11:30 in the church library each week, with some exceptions. No prior knowledge is necessary! ALL ARE WELCOME! And, let’s discuss these questions when we gather (or any other questions you would like to raise for the group!):

1. Luther believed some parts of Scripture speak more clearly than others—why do you think he was partial to John’s Gospel, Romans, and 1 Peter?

2. Peter Claver Ajer describes discipleship as a journey from belief to freedom—how do you personally experience “remaining in the Word” in your daily life, and what kind of freedom has it brought or could bring?

3. Luther heard the Bible as speaking both to its original context and to his own time—how do you hear Scripture speaking into our current cultural and spiritual challenges in 2025?

THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365
READING CHALLENGE:

Monday 20 October: Exodus 16-18, Psalm 22
Tuesday 21 October: Exodus 19-21, Psalm 23
Wednesday 22 October: Exodus 22-24, Psalm 24
Thursday 23 October: Exodus 25-27, Psalm 25
Friday 24 October: Exodus 28-29, Psalm 26
Saturday 25 October: Exodus 30-31, Psalm 27
Sunday 26 October: Exodus 32-34, Psalm 28

Here is a LINK to the full Bible 365 Plan!

The Bible 365 Challenge!

More than 60 members of our faith community have committed to the Bible 365 Challenge—a shared journey of reading through the entire Bible in one year. Each day, we engage with selected passages weaving together stories of faith, struggle, grace, and redemption. This challenge isn’t just about completing a task; it’s about deepening our spiritual roots, building community, and discovering how scripture speaks into our lives today.

19 October 2025: Pentecost 19

Introduction to Readers

Martin Luther
(1483-1546)

“A Christian is never in a state of completion but always in a process of becoming.” (Luther)

This week, the theme of journey—both physical and spiritual—guides my reflections. Several threads converge: the Genesis reading from Bible 365, the unfolding news from the Middle East, the comforting cadence of Psalm 121, and the approach of Reformation Sunday on October 26. Genesis invites us into the lives of Abraham, Sarah, Hagar, Ishmael, and Isaac. Their stories remind us that the ancient paths of that distant land still echo in our present. The Twenty-Point Gaza Peace Plan, though just the first step on a long and uncertain road, offers a breath of hope. We lift prayers for all who walk that path—especially those whose journeys carry unimaginable pain.

As I reflect on the journey of our church—the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, born in 1987 through the merger of the ALC, LCA, and AELC—I find myself drawn back to 1517. Our spiritual forbear Martin Luther ignited a movement that reshaped the Christian world. The Reformation was not an endpoint, but the beginning of a pilgrimage—not toward a sacred place, but toward the unearned gift of grace. Luther’s insight that we are simul justus et peccator—both saint and sinner—captures the paradox at the heart of this journey. It’s a truth that continues to shape our communal and personal journeys with honesty, humility, and hope. And so is every step we take in faith. I’ll be sharing more of this history at ELC on Reformation Sunday.

And, speaking of journeys, Pastor Jen and Patti Whitworth from ELC, along with Deacon Laura Ramlow and Pastor Randy Olson from the Northwest Synod of Wisconsin, are traveling in Malawi for the next two weeks, visiting members of our companion synod there (ELCM). This partnership dates back to 1999. We wish them Godspeed as they engage with our sisters and brothers in Africa!

We have arrived at Pentecost 19 and have five Sundays remaining in the church year. Three commemorations are marked on the ELCA calendar this week: Teresa of Avila, teacher and renewer of the church (d. 15 October 1582), Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, martyr (d. 17 October 115), and Luke the Evangelist (18 October). Thanks for your visit to this space again this week and for your continued interest in exploring the Lectionary. My reflections will focus on Psalm 121, including a musical selection and prayer that highlight our Christian journey.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!


** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

The readings for Pentecost 19 share a powerful theme of perseverance in the face of struggle, grounded in divine faithfulness. In Genesis 32, Jacob wrestles through the night and emerges transformed, a metaphor for spiritual striving and blessing through endurance. Psalm 121 offers assurance that God watches over the pilgrim’s journey, providing protection and guidance amid uncertainty. Paul’s words to Timothy urge steadfastness in Scripture and ministry, even when the path is difficult and the truth contested. Jesus’ parable in Luke 18 affirms that persistent prayer and faith will be met with justice, reminding believers that God honors those who do not lose heart.

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)

Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

1960s Lutheran Humor, ala Charles Schultz

Psalm 121
A Song of Ascents.

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
    from where will my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved;
    he who keeps you will not slumber.
He who keeps Israel
    will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper;
    the Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day
    nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all evil;
    he will keep your life.
The Lord will keep
    your going out and your coming in
    from this time on and forevermore.

Beth Jacob Cemetery, Finksburg,
Carroll County Maryland

Reflection: A Psalm for the Journey

Martin Luther

Martin Luther called the Psalms “a little Bible” because they contain the heart of theology. As a young Augustinian Monk, his early lectures on the Psalms at Wittenberg (1513–1516), in part, shaped his personal devotion and laid the groundwork for his challenge to Church doctrine. Immersed in their emotional depth, he encountered themes of suffering, justice, mercy, and trust that resonated with his own spiritual journey. The language of the Psalms gave him both comfort and courage as he moved toward proclaiming a gospel rooted in grace. He saw the Psalms not as distant hymns but as intimate prayers that spoke to the soul’s deepest needs.

The Continental Divide National Scenic Trail

During a family trip to Colorado in the late 1970s, my father offered an impromptu devotion as we hiked near the Continental Divide. He recited Psalm 121—a moment that felt transcendent and marked my memory. Years later, I learned it was his favorite Psalm when he specifically requested it be read at his funeral. While sorting through his papers after his passing, I discovered that Psalm 121 had also been read at his father’s funeral in February of 1945—a service Unk sadly missed because he was off fighting in World War II. Though I can’t prove it, I believe he wanted me to uncover that connection — he had a knack for producing such moments. As you might imagine, Psalm 121 now lives in my heart with deep and enduring meaning.

Here’s some background on this beautiful eight-verse poem. Psalm 121 is part of the Songs of Ascents (Psalms 120–134), a collection traditionally sung by Hebrew pilgrims traveling to Jerusalem for major festivals like Passover, Pentecost, and the Feast of Tabernacles — moments of remembrance, thanksgiving, and renewal within Judasim. The phrase “ascents” refers both to the physical climb toward Jerusalem—situated in the Judean highlands—and the spiritual elevation toward God’s presence in the Temple. Scholars believe the Psalm dates to the 8th Century BCE, a time when the Assyrian threat was a daily reality.

The Psalm moves this way: In verses 1-2, a traveler who is ready to embark asks the overarching question followed by a confident confession of faith in God; in verses 3-6 another person tells the traveler that the Lord who watches over Israel will offer protection for the journey; and in verses 7-8, that same person assures the traveler that God’s protection will continue in all circumstances in this life and beyond.

Psalm 121, like so many others, invites us to slow down and let its words sink in. I’m reminded that many elders in the faith have modeled the importance of memorizing scripture as a way of carrying wisdom with us, something I am pursuing more as I age. Further, poetry helps us pay attention. It opens our eyes to the rhythms and images around us, igniting our imagination with language that surprises and stirs. This Psalm speaks to the journey we’re all on. It reminds us that God watches over our “coming and going,” offering steady comfort when life feels uncertain, uphill, or just plain hard. So let these words travel with you — write them on your heart. We are not alone. This is good news for us to share!

Soli Deo Gloria

A Musical Offering: Wayfaring Stranger

“Wayfaring Stranger” is a traditional American folk and gospel song that likely emerged in the early 19th century, with its earliest known publication appearing in Joseph Bever’s Christian Songster in 1858. Rooted in both Appalachian folk traditions and African American spirituals, the song gained resonance during the Civil War, when its lyrics became associated with the “Libby Prison Hymn,” offering comfort to Union soldiers in captivity. The hymn’s narrator describes a journey “through this world below,” expressing a deep longing for reunion and rest “in that bright world” beyond suffering. This portrayal of life as a pilgrimage echoes the Christian vision of being in the world but not of it, drawing on biblical themes of exile, grace, and homecoming. Consider the words of Psalm 121 as you listen. I have also read other commentaries that link the song to Hebrews 11: 13-16. There are many versions of the song out there by a range of artists including Joan Baez and Johnny Cash, among others. I found this rendition by VOCES8 US Scholars especially powerful! (Note: As is the case with many spirituals, there are many different versions of the lyrics).

From the VOCES8 website:

2017 saw the launch of the US Scholars Program: a training opportunity for twelve talented singers who have a particular interest in choral and small ensemble singing. With tutoring from Paul Smith, Erik Jacobson and VOCES8, the Scholars gain experience in performing, recording and workshop leading, with opportunities to sing alongside VOCES8.

I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger, I’m trav’ling through this world below;
There is no sickness, toil, nor danger, In that bright world to which I go.
I’m going there to see my father, I’m going there no more to roam;
I’m just a going over Jordan, I’m just a going over home.

I know dark clouds will gather o’er me, I know my pathway’s rough and steep;
But golden fields lie out before me, Where weary eyes no more shall weep.
I’m going there to see my mother, She said she’d meet me when I come;
I’m just a going over Jordan, I’m just a going over home.

I want to sing salvations story, In concert with the blood-washed band;
I want to wear a crown of glory, When I get home to that good land.
I’m going there to see my brothers, They passed before me one by one;
I’m just a going over Jordan, I’m just a going over home.

I’ll soon be free from every trial, This form will rest beneath the sod;
I’ll drop the cross of self-denial, And enter in my home with God.
I’m going there to see my Saviour, Who shed for me His precious blood;
I’m just a going over Jordan, I’m just a going over home.

A Prayer Reflection: The Wayfarer’s Prayer (Tefilat HaDerech)

Background: The Jewish Traveler’s Prayer or Wayfarer’s Prayer (Tefilat HaDerech in Hebrew), originates from the Babylonian Talmud and is recited at the start of a journey to seek divine protection. (The Babylonian Talmud was compiled and redacted between the 3rd and 6th centuries CE, with its final redaction traditionally attributed to around 500–600 CE). It asks for safety from physical and spiritual dangers, favor in the eyes of others, and a peaceful arrival. Traditionally said when traveling a significant distance, it reflects communal values by using plural language even when recited alone. Today, it remains a meaningful ritual for observant Jews embarking on trips by land, sea, or air. It seems entirely appropriate for those from our Synod who are on their way to Malawi as I write these words!

The background, English translation of the prayer and image from the Talmud were drawn from a variety of on-line sources, accessed through Co-Pilot, 12 October 2-25.

Faithful Conversations Updates

Join us for some free-flowing conversation about the Lectionary readings each Sunday. We meet from 10:45-11:30 in the church library each week, with some exceptions. No prior knowledge is necessary! ALL ARE WELCOME! And, let’s discuss these questions when we gather (or any other questions you would like to raise for the group!):

1. What does it mean to “lift up our eyes to the hills” in times of uncertainty—and how does this posture shape our understanding of help and hope?

2. How does the repeated promise that “the Lord will keep” speak to our need for protection, rest, and trust—especially in seasons of transition or vulnerability?

The Bible 365 Challenge!

More than 60 members of our faith community have committed to the Bible 365 Challenge—a shared journey of reading through the entire Bible in one year. Each day, we engage with selected passages weaving together stories of faith, struggle, grace, and redemption. This challenge isn’t just about completing a task; it’s about deepening our spiritual roots, building community, and discovering how scripture speaks into our lives today.

12 October 2025: Pentecost 18

Introduction to Readers

Jonathan Sacks (1948-2020)

“Optimism is a passive virtue, hope an active one. It needs no courage to be an optimist, but it takes a great deal of courage to hope. The Hebrew Bible is not an optimistic book. It is, however, one of the great literatures of hope.” (Rabbi Jonathan Sacks)

Lately, I find myself praying for clarity on how to bring a faithful presence into our fractured world. I’ve also been thinking about children and the world they’re experiencing. In the October issue of The Christian Century, Presbyterian minister Maryann McKibben Dana shares a striking moment from a conversation with a friend. The friend pointed out that those who rage at every headline often do so from the comfort of safety—far removed from the daily grind of people fighting just to get by. While some shout from the sidelines, others carry the weight of survival in silence. Dana’s reflection flips the lens, reminding us that outrage can be a privilege not everyone can afford. As Christians, we are called to purveyors of hope in our world, not glittering optimists who dance in superficiality, and as Rabbi Jonathan Sacks suggests, God’s word grounds us in that hope. Keep that in mind as you work through this week’s readings. And let’s stay excited that many in our midst have taken on the challenge of reading the Bible through in one year!

Henry Muhlenberg

We have reached Pentecost 18 and soon will mark the 508th anniversary of the Reformation (26 October). We have two commemorations on our calendar this week: William Tyndale (died on 6 October 1536) was a groundbreaking English scholar, linguist, and Protestant reformer best known for translating the Bible into English directly from Hebrew and Greek texts—a radical act that challenged both ecclesiastical authority and political power; and Henry Melchior Muhlenberg who died on 7 October 1787. Born in Einbeck, Germany (1711) and deeply influenced by Pietism, he was ordained in 1739 and emigrated to Pennsylvania in 1742, serving scattered German-speaking Lutheran communities in the pre-Revolutionary period. Among other things, he kept detailed journals that remain invaluable for understanding early American Lutheranism and religious life in the colonies. One other notable fact is that Muhlenberg’s son Peter became a soldier of renown during the Revolutionary War.

Thanks for visiting this venue again this week and for your continued interest in the Lectionary. My reflections will focus on the readings from Jeremiah and Luke. I’m also including a prayer dedicated to the refugees in our midst and musical selection that focuses on the children in our world (generally), and especially those who have been displaced.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!


** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for Pentecost 18 center on themes of healing, gratitude, and faithful witness in the midst of exile and uncertainty. Naaman’s cleansing in 2 Kings and the Samaritan leper’s thanksgiving in Luke highlight the transformative power of divine mercy and the importance of responding with praise. Jeremiah’s letter to the exiles urges rootedness and hope, even in foreign lands, while 2 Timothy calls for endurance and integrity in proclaiming the gospel. Psalm 111 ties these threads together with a celebration of God’s wondrous deeds and enduring covenant, inviting the community to remember and trust.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 18.” Copilot, 4 October 2025, Copilot website.

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)

Martin and Katie Luther Engaged in Bible Study
(A.I. Generated, 2025)
The Yoke of Jeremiah

Gospel: Luke 17: 11-19
11 On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. 12 As he entered a village, ten men with a skin disease approached him. Keeping their distance, 13 they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” 14 When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. 15 Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. 16 He prostrated himself at Jesus’s feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. 17 Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? So where are the other nine? 18 Did none of them return to give glory to God except this foreigner?” 19 Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

The Healing of the Ten Lepers
James Tissot (1836–1902)

Reflection: Strangers in our Midst

“Cry of prophet Jeremiah on the Ruins of Jerusalem” by Ilya Repin (1870)

This week’s readings from Jeremiah and Luke offer profound insights into the presence—and the power—of the foreigner in our midst. In Jeremiah 29:1, 4–7, the prophet pens a letter to the exiles in Babylon—a displaced people, torn from Jerusalem and thrust into foreign soil. His message is startling in its realism: “Build houses and live in them… seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile.” Rather than resist or retreat, the exiles are called to engage, to bless, and to pray for the flourishing of the very place that holds them captive. This summons is both unsettling and deeply hopeful. Historically, this letter was written after the first wave of deportations in 597 BCE, when King Jehoiachin and the Judean elite were taken to Babylon. Archaeological records confirm that these exiles were not merely prisoners—they were artisans, officials, and laborers integrated into Babylonian society. Jeremiah’s call was radical: live faithfully among foreigners and recognize that God’s presence is not confined to Jerusalem. The stranger becomes neighbor, and exile becomes a crucible for spiritual renewal. It’s a vision that redefines exile—not as punishment, but as possibility.

More than six centuries later, in Luke 17:11–19, Jesus encounters ten lepers on the borderlands between Galilee and Samaria. These men are doubly marginalized—by disease and geography. Yet it is the Samaritan, the foreigner among them, who returns to give thanks. Jesus’ response is telling: “Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” The outsider becomes exemplar, the one who sees clearly and responds with gratitude. This encounter unfolds in a region scarred by ethnic division and religious mistrust. Samaritans were viewed with suspicion by many Jews, their worship practices deemed impure. Yet here, the Samaritan’s faith transcends boundaries. All ten are healed, but only one is made whole—his gratitude becomes the gateway to deeper restoration. Once again, Jesus throws us a curveball.

Refugees (1939) by Guglielmi (1906-1956)

Together, these passages challenge us to reconsider our posture toward the foreigner. Jeremiah urges rootedness and blessing in unfamiliar places. Luke reveals that grace often flows through those we least expect. In both, God’s movement is not confined to the familiar or the favored—it pulses through exile, borderlands, and gratitude. As so often in Scripture, these ancient voices speak directly into our present moment. As migration and displacement continue to rock the global political environment, and cultural tension shapes our communities, these texts beckon us toward prophetic realism and gospel hospitality. The foreigner is not merely among us—they are often the vessel of divine insight. To dwell faithfully is to seek the welfare of the stranger, and to recognize that healing and thanksgiving may come from unexpected voices. Hope is all around us if we choose to see it.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: Prayer for Refugees and Migrants

Lutherans have a strong tradition in the world of immigration. Formed in 1939, Global Refuge (formerly Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services), has been active in the world for 86 years. The following prayer is an interpretation of a prayer suggested within their resources and also inspired by Psalm 146. We know that children, in particular, are caught within the various forces of displacement in our world — political conflicts, civil wars, and famine just to name a few.

God of mercy, who watches over the stranger and lifts up the brokenhearted, guide us to walk with refugee families seeking peace and home. Bless the mothers, fathers, and children who flee danger. Heal their wounds, restore their hope, and let your love be their shelter. You uphold the cause of the oppressed and give food to the hungry. Make us instruments of your justice—welcoming, compassionate, and brave. Open our hearts to see your image in every migrant and asylum seeker. Lead us to serve with light and love. End the violence that drives them. Stir the hearts of nations to build a world where no child must flee again. The Lord reigns forever. In your mercy, hear our prayer. Amen.

Bless the mothers, fathers, and children who flee danger. Heal their wounds, restore their hope, and let your love be their shelter.

Having spent my adult life with young people, I find so much of our modern environment harmful to children — perhaps, like many of you, legacy is on my mind. What kind of world are we leaving to our children? One of the heartbreaking realities of our world today, as has been true throughout history, is the suffering of children. There are so many contemporary examples. As of the end of 2024, for example, nearly 49 million children were forcibly displaced worldwide due to conflict, violence, and disasters (40% of all refugees). Additionally, having reached my elder years, I grieve for the example our young people see around them growing up. Surely, we can do better. The powerful message of Bestor’s song resonates.

**My statistics are drawn from the Stop Child Labor website.

Refugee Children

Prayer of the Children

Can you hear the prayer of the children
On bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room?
Empty eyes, with no more tears to cry
Turning heavenward, toward the light

Crying, “Jesus, help me
To see the morning light of one more day;
But if I should die before I wake
I pray my soul to take.”

Can you feel the heart of the children
Aching for home, for something of their very own?
Reaching hands, with nothing to hold on to
But hope for a better day, a better day

Crying, “Jesus, help me
To feel the love again in my own land;
But if unknown roads lead away from home
Give me loving arms, away from harm.”

Can you hear the voice of the children
Softly pleading for silence in a shattered world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate
Blood of the innocent on their hands

Crying, “Jesus, help me
To feel the sun again upon my face;
For when darkness clears I know you’re near
Bringing peace again.”

“Prayer of the Children” by Kurt Bestor is a deeply moving song written in response to the suffering of children during the Yugoslav Wars. Its lyrics express a child’s longing for peace, safety, and connection with God amidst violence and loss. One of its most poignant lines is: “Can you hear the prayer of the children… aching for home, for something of their very own.”


Chorale NouvEAU performs Prayer of the Children composed by Kurt Bestor and arranged by Andrea S. Klouse, under the direction of Kate Larson. This performance was from our concert, A Cry for Peace on January 19th, 2025, at Christ Church Cathedral. This concert was in partnership with Sleep in Heavenly Peace. Sleep in Heavenly Peace (SHP) is a volunteer-driven nonprofit dedicated to building and delivering hand-made, fully furnished beds to children in need. ELC has partnered with SHP on several occasions.

(Information provided with the YouTube posting)

The Chorale NouvEAU draws its members from the Chippewa Valley region of Wisconsin.

Faithful Conversations Updates

5 October 2025: Pentecost 17

Introduction to Readers

“There are times in life when we have to buckle up and buckle down, lifting one another up with encouragement. Without such commitment, we live with the prospect or fear that our lives will not have mattered. We may not always know if our actions are contributing to an increase of the abundant life in this world. But, as Mahatma Gandhi once put it, ‘if you do nothing, there will be no result.'” (Peter W. Marty)

A conversation in our lectionary study group on Sunday, paired with this week’s readings from Habakkuk and Luke’s Gospel, brought Peter Marty’s words from the September Christian Century to the forefront. His Gandhi reference — “If you do nothing, there will be no result” — landed with force. Faith doesn’t shield us from the weight of the world; it often makes that weight more visible, more personal. We feel the burden, the fatigue, and sometimes the quiet fear that our lives might not matter. Habakkuk saw violence and chaos and cried out, asking where God had gone. His voice feels close, even now. The apostles, unsure and overwhelmed, didn’t ask for a strategy—they asked for a shortcut: “Increase our faith!” That plea still resonates. In 2025, ancient voices speak with startling relevance. They urge us to stay present, to lift one another up, and to keep moving—even when the way forward is unclear. I’ll return to their wisdom in my reflections. For now, I’m listening.

Welcome to this space again this week and your continued interest in exploring the Lectionary! Counting Sunday, we have eight Sundays left in the church year (Year C). Hard to imagine. We have several commemorations in our calendar this week: Michael and All Angels, Jerome, translator and teacher (d. 30 September 420), Francis of Assisi, renewer of the church (d. 4 October 1226), and Theodore Fliedner, renewer of society (d. 4 October 1864). Fliedner (b. 1800) was a German Lutheran pastor and social reformer who founded the Kaiserswerther Diakonie in 1836, a pioneering institution for hospital care and deaconess training. Inspired by the Moravian Church and reformers like Elizabeth Fry, he revived the ancient Christian office of deaconess to serve the sick, poor, and imprisoned. His work laid the foundation for modern nursing and influenced figures like Florence Nightingale, who trained at Kaiserswerth in 1850. By the time of his death, Fliedner had established a global network of deaconess motherhouses, transforming Christian social service across continents. Deaconess Hospital in Minneapolis was part of the larger movement inspired by Theodor Fliedner’s work in Germany. Although Fliedner didn’t start the hospital himself, his revival of the deaconess tradition in 1836 influenced similar efforts around the world. In 1888, Rev. Falk Gjertsen and others invited Sister Elizabeth Fedde—trained in a tradition shaped by Fliedner—to help begin a deaconess home and hospital in Minneapolis. Her work led to the founding of the Norwegian Lutheran Deaconess Institute, which became Deaconess Hospital, built on Fliedner’s original vision. My great-aunt Josie Rykken worked at Deaconess Hospital as a seamstress for many years and my oldest sister Anne was born there while Unk (our dad) was a student at Luther Seminary (1950). All these years later, I am appreciating that history.

Common Themes Among the Readings

Readings for Pentecost 17

Habakkuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4
Psalm 37:1-9
2 Timothy 1:1-14
Luke 17:5-10

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for Pentecost 17 share a deep concern with perseverance, trust, and faithful living in the face of uncertainty and injustice. Habakkuk wrestles with the silence of God amid violence but is reminded that the righteous live by faith, while Psalm 37 counsels patience and trust in the Lord rather than envy of evildoers. In 2 Timothy, Paul encourages Timothy to rekindle the gift of God with courage and endurance, grounded in the power of the Spirit and the legacy of faith. Luke’s Gospel reframes discipleship as humble service, emphasizing that faith—even as small as a mustard seed—can transform, but obedience remains the quiet duty of those who follow Christ.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 17.” Copilot, 25 September 2025, Copilot website.

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)


Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

Martin Luther (1483-1546)

Luther on Reading the Bible

“In truth you cannot read too much in Scripture; and what you read you cannot read too carefully… and what you teach well you cannot live too well.”

(Luther would have appreciated our Bible 365 Project!)

Check out this excellent summary of Habbakkuk!

Gospel: Luke 17: 5-10

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!” The Lord replied, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.

“Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, ‘Come here at once and take your place at the table’? Would you not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me; put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink’? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? 10 So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, ‘We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!’ ”

Jesus Teaching in Galilee (A.I. Generated, 2023)

Reflection: Faith Doesn’t Get Easier — It Gets Stronger

Habakkuk the Prophet
(A.I. Generated 2025)

There’s an old runner’s adage: Running doesn’t get easier—you just get stronger. Having been a runner for more than a half-century and a distance coach, I can attest to that. The hills don’t flatten, the wind doesn’t stop, and the soreness doesn’t vanish. But something shifts inside. Muscles adapt. Breathing deepens. Resolve hardens. You learn to keep going—not because the path is easier, but because you’ve grown stronger. This running analogy echoes the spiritual journey described in Habakkuk and Luke. In Habakkuk 1:1–4, the prophet cries out in anguish: “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen?” His world is unraveling—violence, injustice, and destruction surround him. Habakkuk lived in Judah during the late 7th century BCE, a time of political instability and moral decay. Babylon was rising, and the covenant people seemed to have lost their way. Habakkuk doesn’t offer easy answers. He offers lament. And in doing so, he gives us permission to bring our own questions to God. This makes Habakkuk a vital companion when faith feels weary. His honesty is refreshing. He doesn’t pretend things are fine. He stands in the watchtower and waits (Habakkuk 2:1), modeling a posture of spiritual attentiveness. He’s not passive—he’s expectant. And when the Lord replies, it’s not with a quick fix but with a vision: “The righteous live by their faithfulness” (Habakkuk 2:4). This phrase becomes a theological cornerstone. Paul quotes it in Romans 1:17 and Galatians 3:11. The author of Hebrews echoes it in 10:38. For Lutherans, it’s foundational. Martin Luther’s breakthrough came when he realized that righteousness is not earned by works but received through faith. Faithfulness, then, is not about perfection—it’s about trust. It’s about showing up, even when the road is steep.

Saint Luke the Evangelist
De Rosa (1607-1656)

Luke 17:5–10 offers a complementary lens. The disciples plead, “Increase our faith!”—a request that resonates with anyone who’s felt spiritually inadequate. Jesus responds with a paradox: “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed…” It’s not about quantity. It’s about rootedness. Even the smallest seed of faith, planted in God’s promises, can grow into something mighty. Then comes the parable of the slave. It’s unsettling. The slave works all day, returns home, and still isn’t praised. Jesus says, “We have done only what we ought to have done.” This challenges our desire for ease and affirmation. We want the faith life to be rewarding, comfortable, even applauded. But Jesus reframes it: faithfulness is about duty, humility, and perseverance. Hard words.

Habakkuk’s lament and Luke’s mustard seed converge in this truth: faith is not flashy. It’s steady. It’s the teacher who prepares lessons for students who may never say thank you. It’s the caregiver who shows up day after day. It’s the disciple who forgives seventy times seven. It’s the runner who laces up shoes in the dark and keeps going. In our spiritual lives, we often long for shortcuts. We want a smoother path, the answers to come quickly. But Habakkuk teaches us to wait. Luke teaches us to serve. And the Lutheran tradition teaches us to trust—not in our strength, but in the righteousness that comes by faith. Again, remember the triad of texts — Romans 1:17, Galatians 3:11, and Hebrews 10:38 — they provide a cadence for the long run.

When faith feels like a grind, when injustice floods the headlines, and your prayers seem to vanish into silence—open Habakkuk! Climb the watchtower. Speak the hard truths. Demand answers. And listen: “There is still a vision for the appointed time.” Then lace up. Run. Not because the path smooths out, but because your spirit grows stronger with every step. Faith doesn’t promise ease—it builds endurance. And in the steady rhythm of trust, in the quiet certainty of God’s faithfulness, you’ll find the strength to keep going. The world needs our voice.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: Strength for the Journey

This prayer is inspired by the Bible 365 Project. As we take on this challenge, we will need to pray about the experience! If you are interested in the lay-out of the year-long schedule, I linked it in the green announcement box at the end of the blog.

God of the Word, You who spoke light into darkness and breathed life into dust, I begin this sacred journey—a year of walking through Your story, from Genesis to Revelation, from wilderness to wonder, from exile to return. Open my heart to receive what You have spoken. Let these pages be more than ink and parchment; make them living water for my thirst, bread for the journey, and fire for the cold places within me. Give me discipline when the days feel long, curiosity when the texts feel strange, and grace when I stumble or fall behind. Let me not rush past mystery or skip over lament. Teach me to linger, to wrestle, to listen. As I read of prophets and poets, kings and shepherds, apostles and outcasts, may I find myself in their stories—and may I find You, always You, speaking through the chaos, calling me to justice, mercy, and love. Let this year be more than a reading plan. Let it be a pilgrimage. Let it be transformation. Let it be communion with You. In the name of the Living Word, Jesus Christ, Amen.

What is the world like when God’s will is done?
Mustard seeds grow more than we can conceive:
roots thread the soil;
branches reach for the sun.
This is how God moves us each to believe.

What is the world like when God’s will is done?
Witness the wandering child coming home;
watch as the parent breaks into a run.
This is how God longs for us when we roam.

What is the world like when God’s will is done?
No more is neighbor just ally or friend;
peace thrives in places where once there was none.
This is how God works when rivalries end.

What is the world like when God’s will is done?
Ready for feasting, we watch through the night,
tending our lamps till the new day’s begun.
This is how God readies us for the light.

These are the stories that Jesus imparts,
filled with the Spirit who joins us as one.
Born through our voices, our hands, and our hearts,
this is a new world where God’s will is done.

Adam M. L. Tice is a prominent contemporary hymn writer and editor known for his contributions to ecumenical hymnody and justice-centered worship. A graduate of Goshen College, Tice has served as a church musician, associate pastor, and editor of The Hymn journal, and was the text editor for the 2020 Mennonite hymnal Voices Together. His hymn “What Is the World Like” (2009), set to Sally Ann Morris’s tune NEW WORLD, draws on four parables to envision a world shaped by God’s justice, mercy, and light. Tice’s work reflects a deep commitment to inclusive theology, poetic clarity, and communal transformation through song. The lyrics are compelling and the last one, in particular, seems especially fitting for the start of our Bible 365 Project!

Faithful Conversations Updates

28 September 2025: Pentecost 16

Introduction to Readers

Gordon Thunder (1939-2025)

“Education is much more a matter of the heart than of the head.” (Gordon Thunder)

I spent my early years in this community (ages 5 to 15), then returned in 1990 at age 33 after nearly twenty years away. Since then, I’ve witnessed many familiar faces journey on—a steady rhythm of loss that sometimes seem to come in waves. Across cultures, people honor elders as wisdom keepers, and their passing reminds us of the sacred cycle of exile and return, of memory, renewal, and life beyond this life. Last week, we lost Gordon Thunder, a gracious man who, with his sister Charity, helped me see the world through Indigenous eyes. They often visited my classroom, sharing stories of history, language, and culture that left lasting impressions on my students. During one visit in the early 1990s, Gordon spoke the line offered above that struck me as both simple and profound—I scribbled it down and have shared it with thousands of students since. It speaks to the heart of education: not just knowledge, but empathy, connection, and transformation—companions I carry with me in my exploration of the scriptures each week. In Ho-Chunk tradition, the death of an elder marks a sacred journey back to Earthmaker, who formed humans from clay and gave them a soul. Guided by prayer, song, and offerings, this journey leads the soul home, echoing the Christian hope of returning to our Creator, where rest and reunion await. You will note a connection to these themes in the musical selection I’m offering further on in the blog.

Thanks for your visit to this space again this week. Incredibly, we are rounding the corner into October and will be engaged in our Bible 365 Challenge. I am reminded each and every week that God’s Word is vast and powerfully relevant in every age. My reflections will focus on the Amos passage again this week, noting how it intersects with Luke 16. Note the prompts for discussion in the Faithful Conversations update at the end of the blog — we will utilize those for our in-person discussion on Sunday.

Common Themes Among the Readings

Readings for Pentecost 16

Amos 6: 1a, 4-7
Psalm 146
1 Timothy 6: 6-19
Luke 16: 19-31

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for Pentecost 16 share a strong warning against complacency, wealth without compassion, and the neglect of justice. Amos condemns the ease and luxury of the powerful who ignore the suffering of others, while Psalm 146 calls for trust in God, who lifts the oppressed and cares for the vulnerable. In 1 Timothy, believers are urged to pursue righteousness and generosity rather than riches, anchoring their hope in eternal life. Luke’s parable of the rich man and Lazarus drives the message home: ignoring the poor has eternal consequences, and true faith is shown through mercy and action.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 16.” Copilot, 21 September 2025, Copilot website.

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)


Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

Luther on Reading the Bible

For some years now I have read through the Bible twice every year. If you picture the Bible to be a mighty tree and every word a little branch, I have shaken every one of these branches because I wanted to know what it was and what it meant.

(Luther would have appreciated our Bible 365 Project!)

The Gospel: Luke 16: 19-31

19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham.[a] The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side.[b] 24 He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.’ 25 But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things and Lazarus in like manner evil things, but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ 27 He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— 28 for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ 29 Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ 30 He said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ 31 He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ”

Reflection: How Much is Enough?

In 1821, British poet Percy Bysshe Shelley (b. 1792) wrote a line that still rings true: “The rich have become richer, and the poor have become poorer.” He was watching the rise of industrial England—a world where wealth piled up for the few while the many labored in worsening conditions. Shelley’s lament wasn’t just poetic—it was prophetic. And yet, the cry he voiced wasn’t new. Centuries earlier, the prophet Amos stood in the northern kingdom of Israel and spoke with fire. His words cut through the comfort of the elite: “Woe to those who are at ease in Zion… who lie on beds of ivory… who drink wine in bowls… but are not grieved over the ruin of Joseph!”

Amos the Prophet
Kizhi Monastery, Russia

Amos, like all prophets, spoke into a particular moment. His ministry unfolded during the reigns of King Uzziah of Judah and King Jeroboam II of Israel—a time of booming trade, expanding borders, and political stability. On the surface, things looked good. Israel was thriving. But beneath that prosperity, the poor were being crushed, justice was for sale, and worship had lost its soul. Amos wasn’t part of the establishment. He was a shepherd and fig farmer from Tekoa—called to speak truth in the king’s sanctuary at Bethel. And he didn’t mince words. He didn’t condemn wealth itself, but wealth without justice, comfort without compassion, and rituals that ignored righteousness.

Juliana Claassens
University of Stellenbosch

That message still speaks. As Juliana Claassens points out in a sharply written commentary, “An online search for who, most recently, has been drawn to this book (Amos) steeped in the pursuit of justice and righteousness, is telling: Results show many scholars from the Developing World concerned about the state of their people in impoverished countries where the rich are getting richer and the poor poorer—for example, Nigeria, Zimbabwe, Myanmar, and parts of Latin America.” As Claassens asserts, these communities face unfair labor systems, resource extraction by the Global North, and corruption from within. Claassens reminds us: Amos’s call for justice is not abstract. It’s urgent. It’s real. It’s now.

As Christians trying to live out our faith, we might ask ourselves, how much is enough? If someone is a billionaire, do they need many billions? What happens when abundance becomes blindness? That question echoes in Luke 16, where Jesus tells the story of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man feasts daily, dressed in purple and fine linen. Lazarus lies at his gate, covered in sores. After death, their roles reverse—but the rich man’s vision doesn’t. He still sees Lazarus as a servant, not a neighbor. The chasm between them, once social, becomes eternal. Amos and Jesus both confront us with the moral danger of indifference. They remind us that ease is not innocence, and that comfort can become complicity. To lie on beds of ivory while others sleep on concrete is not just unfortunate—it’s unjust. To feast while others hunger is not just a lifestyle—it’s a spiritual crisis.

And so, back to Shelley. His lament is more than a line—it’s a summons. (Sidebar: Shelley’s was deeply skeptical of organized religion because he thought it was used to justify inequality and moral hypocrisy, something you may want to explore further). How much is enough? Enough to lift the fallen. Enough to mend the breach. Enough to remember that every Lazarus at the gate is a child of God.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Note: I am indebted to Juliana Claassens, Old Testament Professor at the University of Stellenbosch in Stellenbosch, South Africa for her commentary on the Amos passage. You may find the commentary at Working Preacher, a site sponsored by Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Prayer Reflection: A Future Not Our Own (Oscar Romero)

It helps now and then to step back and take a long view. The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said. No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession brings perfection, no pastoral visit brings wholeness. No program accomplishes the Church’s mission. No set of goals and objectives include everything.

This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water the seeds already planted knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing this.

This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.

Oscar Romero
(1917-1980)

Saint Óscar Arnulfo Romero y Galdámez was a Salvadoran Roman Catholic archbishop renowned for his courageous advocacy for human rights and the poor during El Salvador’s civil unrest. Initially seen as conservative, Romero became a prophetic voice against government repression, denouncing violence from both state forces and guerrilla groups. He was assassinated while celebrating Mass on March 24, 1980, and later canonized as a martyr and saint by the Catholic Church in 2018.

Suiderkruis (Southern Cross), composed by Jacques de Villiers and arranged by André van der Merwe, is a choral elegy that mourns the loss of homeland and honors the elders whose lives once anchored its memory. The Southern Cross shines as a celestial guide for those in exile, not only pointing the way home but illuminating the spiritual path beyond death—a journey through silence, longing, and ancestral remembrance. Sung in Afrikaans, its haunting lyrics ask whether we are still remembered, whether anyone stands beneath the stars to welcome the soul’s return, as the music swells from quiet lament to transcendent yearning—a requiem for the departed and a compass for those who remain. The song spoke to me in navigating the recent passing of several elders in our faith community and beyond.

The Stellenbosch University Choir, based in South Africa and conducted by André van der Merwe, is internationally acclaimed for its emotive artistry and innovative choral arrangements. Composed of student singers, the ensemble blends African rhythms, classical technique, and contemporary expression to create transcendent musical experiences. Their performances often explore themes of identity, memory, and spiritual longing, resonating deeply with audiences across cultures.

Included in the lyrics (Afrikaans)

Will you remember me in dreams and in silence? Who stands amongst the Southern Cross? Who brings hope? Dreamy images dance amongst the constellations. In a time of mourning, we all lose power. Remember me in the morning dew.

Faithful Conversations Updates

21 September 2025: Pentecost 15

Introduction to Readers

Gandhi (1869-1948)

Once again, political violence has erupted with chilling force this week. On Friday, as I spoke with our eldest daughter Kate (b. 1981), her words stirred a sobering truth: we are not built to absorb the relentless tide of hatred and grief that courses through our nation. I hold fast to Gandhi’s enduring conviction—that LOVE stands as the most powerful force we possess, and we must wield it with courage and intention. (Gandhi himself, regretfully, fell victim to political violence in 1948).

As we open the lectionary this Sunday, we enter a tradition that has never shied away from upheaval. Scripture speaks directly into chaos, echoing through centuries of resistance—from the Zealot revolts in Roman-occupied Judea to the unraveling of civic virtue in the late Roman Republic. Like us, our spiritual ancestors grappled with power, injustice, violence, and the sacred call to act. Of course, their world was far different from ours, but evil has been present across time — not a comforting reality but perhaps brings perspective. As Pastor Jen emphasized in her sermon on Sunday (14 September), as Christians, we are to be “purveyors of hope” for those living in a divided world.

Hammarskjold (1905-1961)

Thanks for your return to this venue this week! Counting next Sunday, there are ten remaining in our church year (Christ the King Sunday is on 23 November). We have several commemorations this week on the ELCA calendar, and perhaps most notably, Dag Hammarskjold who was killed (somewhat mysteriously) in a plane crash on 18 September 1961. A fascinating individual, Hammarskjöld was a Swedish economist, diplomat, and spiritual thinker who served as the second Secretary-General of the United Nations from 1953 until his death (sidebar: A teacher I had in 8th grade was enamored with Hammarskjold and we learned much about him that year!). He played a pivotal role in shaping UN peacekeeping operations and mediating global crises, including the Suez and Congo conflicts, earning him a posthumous Nobel Peace Prize. As a man of faith and ethical service, Hammarskjold was deeply influenced by Christian mysticism.

Note: My reflections this week will focus on the Amos passage. I also have included a prayer from the pen of Dag Hammarskjold and a favorite Dylan song that speaks to our time. Also, take note of the discussion questions that will frame our in-person discussion of the Lectionary next Sunday (a new feature).

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!


** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

Readings for Pentecost 15

Amos 8: 4-7
Psalm 113
1 Timothy 2: 1-7
Luke 16: 1-13

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for Pentecost 15 confront economic injustice and call for ethical stewardship, reminding us that God sees and judges those who exploit the poor (Amos 8:4–7). Psalm 113 lifts up God’s mercy and power to raise the lowly, celebrating divine reversal and care for the marginalized. 1 Timothy 2:1–7 urges prayerful living and inclusive salvation, emphasizing Christ as mediator for all people. Luke 16:1–13 challenges us to use worldly resources wisely and faithfully, underscoring that no one can serve both God and wealth.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 15.” Copilot, 12 September 2025, Copilot website.

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)


Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

Luther on Reading the Bible

For some years now I have read through the Bible twice every year. If you picture the Bible to be a mighty tree and every word a little branch, I have shaken every one of these branches because I wanted to know what it was and what it meant.

Martin Luther
(1483-1546)

Amos, the Prophet

Reflection: An Ancient Voice Speaks to Us

The prophet Amos appears five times across the three-year cycle of the Revised Common Lectionary, typically during the Season after Pentecost when prophetic voices are spotlighted (once in Year A, and twice in both Years B and C). Across these readings, Amos emerges as a relentless voice for justice, calling out systems that oppress the vulnerable and distort sacred practice. His message is consistent: true faith demands ethical integrity, and divine judgment awaits those who ignore the cries of the poor. The lectionary’s use of Amos places him in direct conversation with Gospel texts, reinforcing the timeless urgency of his prophetic witness. (Sidebar: I explored Amos in July (Pentecost 6) when he appeared as an alternate reading offered within the Lectionary).

Amos the Prophet, 18th Century Russian Icon

In the Lutheran Study Bible (Second Edition), Peter T. Nash and Walter C. Bouzard do a terrific job of framing the prophet’s story (shameless plug for investing in this resource!). Amos’ prophetic ministry began in c. 762 BCE and though he was from Tekoa in the Southern Kingdom, he spent most of his time in the Northern Kingdom in the region of Bethel (eleven miles north of Jerusalem). The division between the two Kingdoms of Israel during this time offers relevant context. As the authors assert, “Judahite interpreters from the southern tribes blamed the north and its leaders for the broken relationship. They pointed to the northerners’ rebellious spirit, which was fueled by the polluting influence of Canannite and Phoenician politics and religious practices. The worship of other gods in addition to YHWH was a severe offense. Also mentioned frequently was the issue of economic inequality . . . Southerners accused the northerners of abandoning their shared core value — equality among siblings based on their equality before God.” (pp. 1383-84, LSB). I suspect if these ancient people could have accessed social media, they would have launched vitriolic attacks on one another! It was into this milieux that the prophet Amos emerged. It was a diverse and divided world.

This week’s passage, chapter 8:4–7, comes after God compares the people of Israel to a basket of summer fruit that is rotting. In response, Amos delivers a sharp rebuke to those who exploit the poor and manipulate economic systems for personal gain. The prophet exposes how sacred times are treated as mere interruptions to profiteering, with dishonest scales and the buying and selling of the vulnerable. God responds with a solemn oath: these injustices will not be forgotten, and divine judgment is coming for those who trample the needy. In fact, if you read ahead a bit (verses 11-12), the Lord suggests that the very Word of God will be withdrawn from the people — a chilling assertion!

How should 21st Century Christians respond to Amos? The lessons from Amos 8:4–7 are as urgent now as they were in his day twenty-seven centuries ago. First, justice is not optional—it’s woven into the very character of God, and those who claim to follow Him must reflect that justice in how they treat others, especially the poor and powerless. Second, Amos reminds us that injustice is often systemic: dishonest scales, exploitative markets, and disregard for sacred rhythms all point to a society where profit overrides compassion. And third, there’s a warning here for communities of faith: when worship becomes disconnected from ethical living, God does not merely critique—He threatens silence. The Word of the Lord is not a guarantee; it’s a gift, and when ignored, it may be withdrawn. That silence, Amos suggests, is its own kind of judgment. That’s unsettling, to say the least!

But let’s not leave it at that. The great Walter Brueggemann viewed prophets like Amos as bearers of the prophetic imagination—figures who challenged prevailing assumptions and offered a radically different vision rooted in God’s justice. Their role wasn’t just to criticize; they also reframed reality itself. Brueggemann reminds us that true prophets don’t simply name what’s broken—they envision what could be, guided by mercy and moral conviction. These are words for us to carry with us every day as “purveyors of hope” in a broken world.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Note: In the paragraph offered on the lessons of Amos, I drew heavily from a 2010 commentary by Rolf Jacobson, the A.N. Rogness Chair in Scripture, Theology and Ministry at Luther Seminary in St. Paul.

Note: Walter Brueggemann’s book, The Prophetic Imagination (40th Anniversary edition, 2018) is a remarkable resource and changed my understanding of the Old Testament prophets.

Prayer Reflection from Dag Hammarskjold

You who are over us,
You who are one of us,
You who are also within us,
May all see you in me also.
May I prepare the way for you,
May I thank you for all
that shall fall to my lot,
May I also not forget the needs of others.
Give me a pure heart-that I may see you.
A humble heart-that I may hear you,
A heart of love-that I may serve you,
A heart of faith-that I may abide in you. Amen.

This prayer is attributed to Dag Hammarskjöld, the Swedish diplomat and second Secretary-General of the United Nations. It appears in his posthumously published spiritual journal Markings (originally Vägmärken), which blends poetic reflection, Christian mysticism, and ethical introspection.

A Musical Offering: Ring Them Bells (Dylan)

Bob Dylan’s “Ring Them Bells,” from his 1989 Oh Mercy album, hits like a quiet thunderclap—a solemn, hymn-like call to wake up. It’s Dylan in full prophetic mode, echoing earlier pieces like “Chimes of Freedom,” but here the urgency feels deeper, more spiritual. He brings in biblical figures—St. Peter, St. Catherine, Sweet Martha—not just as symbols, but as voices ringing the bells, urging us back toward justice, mercy, and truth. Dylan’s not just singing—he’s sounding the alarm, stepping into that long tradition of artists who speak up when the world’s off-kilter.

The song is especially interesting, owing to Dylan’s dramatic conversion to Christianity in the late 1970s.

Provide a short analysis of Bob Dylan’s Song, “Ring Them Bells.” Copilot website, 13 September 2025.

The Lyrics

Ring them bells, ye heathen
From the city that dreams
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries
Across the valleys and streams
For they’re deep and they’re wide
And the world’s on its side
And time is runnin’ backwards
And so is the bride

Ring them bells St. Peter
Where the four winds blow
Ring them bells with an iron hand
So the people will know
Oh, it’s rush hour now
On the wheel and the plow
And the sun is goin’ down
Upon the sacred cow

Ring them bells Sweet Martha
For the poor man’s son
Ring them bells so the world will know
That God is one
Oh the shepherd is asleep
Where the willows weep
And the mountains they are filled
With lost sheep

Ring them bells for the blind and the deaf
Ring them bells for all of us who are left
Ring them bells for the chosen few
Who will judge the many
When the day is through
Ring them bells for the time that flies
For the child that cries
When her innocence dies

Ring them bells St. Catherine
From the top of the room
Ring them bells from the fortress
For the lilies that bloom
Oh, the lines they are long
And the fighting is strong
And they’re breakin’ down the distance
Between right and wrong

Joan Baez, born in 1941 in Staten Island, New York, rose to prominence in the early 1960s as a folk singer whose unwavering commitment to social justice made her a defining voice of her generation. She played a pivotal role in popularizing Bob Dylan’s early work and became a leading figure in the civil rights and anti-war movements, performing at events like the 1963 March on Washington. and the 1969 Woodstock Festival. Over more than six decades, Baez released over 30 albums and remained a tireless activist, earning induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2017.

I hope you enjoy Baez’s live performance here and her interpretation of this timely song!

Faithful Conversations Updates

14 September 2025: Holy Cross Day (Pentecost 14)

Introduction to Readers

Rene Girard
(1923-2015)

“Everywhere and always, when human beings either cannot or dare not take their anger out on the thing that has caused it, they unconsciously search for substitutes, and more often than not they find them.” (René Girard, The One by Whom Scandal Comes)

While exploring the Gospel passage from John for Holy Cross Day, I stumbled on a fascinating commentary that pointed me to a deeper understanding of the role of the scapegoat throughout history — a term that traces back to William Tyndale’s 1530 English translation of Leviticus 16. In the ancient Day of Atonement ritual, one goat was offered to God, while another was sent into the wilderness, symbolically carrying the sins of the people. Tyndale rendered the Hebrew word ʿăzāzêl as “escape goat,” a phrase that evolved into scapegoat and came to describe anyone unfairly blamed or cast out for the faults of others. French-American thinker René Girard deepened this insight with his concept of the scapegoat mechanism—the unconscious “search for substitutes.” What he described was a pattern by which societies target outsiders to relieve internal tensions, often masking deeper truths about violence, reconciliation, and grace. We don’t have to look far to see the pattern! History certainly offers sobering examples: Socrates, condemned by the Athenian state as a corrupting influence during a time of civic unrest, and European Jews, scapegoated by the Nazi regime as the cause of Germany’s decline—both victims of collective projection and sacrificial violence. (Here’s a good article if you would like a further explanation). I will explore this concept further in m reflections, focusing on the Old Testament reading from Numbers as a backdrop for understanding the Gospel.

St. Helena

Thanks for returning to this space again this week! Your interest in the Lectionary inspires me! Next Sunday coincides with Holy Cross Day on our church calendar (September 14), listed among the Lesser Festivals and Commemorations in the ELCA. It is not uncommon to highlight the Lesser Festivals, especially when they fall on a Sunday. (Sidebar: Here’s a nice explanation of how we handle such things within our denomination). And some background for the good of the cause: Holy Cross Day commemorates the cross on which Jesus was crucified—not merely as an instrument of death, but as a symbol of redemption and divine love. The feast traces its origins to St. Helena, mother of Emperor Constantine, who journeyed to Jerusalem c. 326 CE and, according to tradition, discovered the True Cross at the site of Christ’s crucifixion. Sometime later, Constantine dedicated the Church of the Holy Sepulchre on September 13–14, 335, marking the first public veneration of the cross. The feast also recalls the recovery of the cross in 628 A.D. by Emperor Heraclius, who reclaimed it from Persian forces and returned it to Jerusalem. Over time, Holy Cross Day became a universal Christian observance, celebrated by Catholics, Orthodox, Anglicans, Lutherans, and others. Unlike Good Friday, which focuses on Christ’s suffering, this feast exalts the cross as a “tree of life”, a sign of victory, healing, and hope. In liturgy and devotion, the cross is lifted high—not to glorify suffering, but to proclaim the transformative power of divine love. I’m offering a musical selection today that comes out of this tradition.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!


** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

Readings for
Holy Cross Day


Numbers 21: 4b-9
Psalm 98: 1-4
1 Corinthians 1: 18-24
John 3: 13-17

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for Holy Cross Day converge around the mystery and majesty of the cross as both a symbol of suffering and a source of salvation. In Numbers, the bronze serpent lifted by Moses prefigures Christ’s crucifixion, where healing comes through looking in faith. John 3:13–17 deepens this image, revealing that the Son of Man must be lifted up so that all who believe may have eternal life—not just life after death, but a new, abundant life marked by spiritual rebirth and belonging. This passage, often reduced to the familiar “John 3:16,” gains its full power when read in context: Jesus speaks to Nicodemus about the radical nature of God’s love, a love that chooses vulnerability and sacrifice over condemnation. 1 Corinthians and Psalm 98 echo this paradox and promise—where the cross, foolish to the world, becomes the wisdom of God, and all creation is invited to sing of the victory won through love.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Holy Cross Day.” Copilot, 4 September 2025, Copilot website.

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)


Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

1960s Lutheran humor from Charles Schultz

The Gospel: John 3: 13-17

13 No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. 14 And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, 15 that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.
16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.
17 “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him.

Reflection: Lifted for Healing

In exploring the Lectionary each week, the Old Testament passage typically provides context for the Gospel reading, and that is certainly the case for Holy Cross Day. Here’s a quick summary of each.

Moses and the Bronze Serpent
(Jean-Charles Frontier, 1743)

Numbers 21:4b–9 recounts a moment of crisis and mercy during Israel’s wilderness journey. As the people grow impatient and speak against God and Moses, they are punished with fiery serpents whose bites prove deadly. In response to their repentance, God instructs Moses to craft a bronze serpent and lift it on a pole—anyone who looks at it after being bitten is healed. This passage reveals a powerful pattern: divine judgment met with divine mercy, and healing offered not by removing danger, but by redirecting the gaze toward hope.

John 3:13–17 presents a powerful summary of the Gospel message through Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus, a Pharisee who secretly visited Jesus at night. Jesus explains that just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up—pointing to his crucifixion as the means by which eternal life is offered. The passage culminates in the declaration that “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son,” emphasizing divine love as the foundation of salvation. Crucially, it affirms that Jesus was sent not to condemn the world, but to save it, offering redemption to all who believe.

What are we to make of these readings? Both passages are imbedded in powerful moments and difficult to understand, in my mind, without deeper context. Jennifer Garcia Bashaw, Associate Professor of New Testament and Christian Ministry at Campbell University, provides a compelling commentary that I am leaning on heavily here. Let me summarize a bit. She makes the case that we tend to read John 3:16 — one of the most recognizable Bible passage of all — as a “stand-alone” verse and misrepresent its true meaning. The key, according to Bashaw, is the reference in preceding verses (3:14-15) to the “bizarre story about a bronze snake” (referencing Numbers). Those fiery serpents God sent are wreaking havoc on the wandering Israelites, and their only salvation is to gaze upon the lifted serpent of bronze. That image reminds them of their own self-destruction — in Bashaw’s words, “the evil of empire, the oppression they participate in, the violence that beats at the heart of society, the scapegoating tendencies of people who allow innocent people to suffer for sins that aren’t their own.” And here’s the connection John is drawing: like that bronze serpent, Jesus’ death on the cross (“Lift High the Cross”), “reveals humanity’s self-destructive nature that drives societies to fear and violence.” The cross, then, becomes “the symbol of misplaced blame and oppressive violence.” Jesus becomes the scapegoat, executed by the powerful and a reminder of how far we have fallen. Our healing — our salvation — starts with recognizing this fact, believing it deeply in our souls.

John’s Gospel underscores this call to belief with remarkable frequency. He uses some variation of the verb believe eighty-four times—far more than Matthew, Mark, and Luke combined. Faith, then, rests not on abstract doctrine but on a lived belief in a Savior whose life, death, and resurrection transformed history and offers hope to a fallen world. This is good news that we need to share!

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: Two from Henri Nouwen

Henri Nouwen
(1932-1996)

Before Birth and After Death
I am a human being who was loved by God before I was born and whom God will love after I die. This brief lifetime is my opportunity to receive love, deepen love, grow in love, and give love. When I die love continues to be active, and from full communion with God I am present by love to those I leave behind.

Discovering our True Self
The spiritual journey is essentially different from engaging in hero worship or joining a therapeutic movement. These forms of following are typically centered on “me.” In hero worship, we may be looking for a vicarious self by losing our identity in that of the hero. In many therapeutic movements, we may be searching for inner harmony or healing. When Jesus says, “Follow me,” he is calling us to let go of “me” and to gradually say, “You, Lord, are the one.” Jesus calls us to leave our “me” world, trusting that being at home in God we will discover who we truly are.

A Musical Offering: Nos Autem Gloriari

Nos autem gloriari is a liturgical chant rooted in Galatians 6:14 which declares: “But far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.” This verse became the foundation for the Latin Introit used on Holy Thursday and the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, emphasizing the paradoxical glory of Christ’s crucifixion. The chant was formalized in the Gregorian tradition and later inspired Renaissance composers like Palestrina, whose motet setting remains a sacred choral standard. Over centuries, Nos autem has served as a musical and theological anchor, proclaiming the cross as both a sign of suffering and the gateway to redemption. The lyrics also reference Psalm 67.

The Lyrics (Latin/English)

Nos autem gloriari oportet in cruce Domini nostri Jesu Christi:
In quo est salus, vita et resurrectio nostra:
Per quem salvati et liberati sumus.
Psalmus: Deus misereatur nostri, et benedicat nobis:
Illuminet vultum suum super nos, et misereatur nostri.

But it befits us to glory in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ,
in whom is our salvation, life, and resurrection;
through whom we are saved and set free.
Psalm: May God have mercy on us and bless us;
may He cause the light of His countenance to shine upon us, and may He have mercy on us.

The Choir of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception is a professional vocal ensemble based in Washington, D.C., dedicated to enhancing sacred liturgy through music. Comprising highly trained singers from the region, the choir performs a wide repertoire—from Gregorian chant and Renaissance polyphony to contemporary sacred compositions—under the direction of Dr. Peter Latona. Known for its musical excellence and spiritual depth, the choir regularly sings for major liturgical celebrations, including papal visits and national broadcasts, serving as a voice of beauty and devotion within the Catholic Church.

“Provide a description of the Choir of the Basilica of the National Shrine,” 7 September 2025, Copilot Website.

Faithful Conversations Updates

7 September 2025: Pentecost 13 (Ordinary 23)

Introduction to Readers

David Blight (b. 1949)

“History must be imagined before it can be understood.” (David Blight)

Philemon (fih-LEE-muhn), Paul’s shortest letter, shows up once every three years in the Revised Common Lectionary. Just 25 verses long, this oft-overlooked epistle opens a deeply personal window into the early Christian movement—a moment of moral tension, complex relationships, and spiritual transformation. After spending some time with Philemon, Paul, and Onesimus over the past several days, I decided to take the opportunity to explore the story more fully and will do that in my reflections. It is a fascinating letter.

Before getting to that, however, some further background is in order (and a good example of the difficulties inherent in Biblical interpretation). One of my guiding quotes regarding the study of history comes from Yale historian David Blight, reminding us that we must imagine a world far different from our own to bring history alive. Imagine this, for example. In the generation leading up to the Civil War, pro-slavery advocates and abolitionists BOTH drew on Biblical texts to support their contrary positions. Paul’s appeal to Philemon to receive Onesimus, his escaped slave, “no longer as a slave, but as a beloved brother” suggests that slavery was wrong, yet Paul’s letter was also used as an example of the Bible sanctioning human bondage. Soldier and author John Richter Jones, for example, argued just that in his 1861 treatise, Slavery Sanctioned by the Bible. Consider that as you explore it this week.

N.F.S. Grundtvig

As always, thanks for your ongoing interest in the Lectionary! We have one commemoration on the ELCA calendar this week. Nikolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig (b. 1783) was a Danish pastor, poet, historian, and educational reformer whose legacy reshaped both church and society. He championed a living Christianity rooted in sacramental tradition and cultural heritage, opposing sterile rationalism in favor of spiritual vitality. Grundtvig is best remembered for founding the folk high school movement, which democratized education and inspired a new Danish nationalism grounded in enlightenment, community, and human dignity. He died on 2 September in 1872. (Note: All commemorations within the ELCA calendar are found on pages 14-17 of our hymnal — the ELW).

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!


** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

Pentecost 13 Readings

Deuteronomy 30: 15-20
Psalm 1
Philemon 1-21
Luke 14: 25-33

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for Pentecost 13 (Year C) center on the profound theme of choice and commitment in the life of faith. Deuteronomy 30 and Psalm 1 both present a stark contrast between the way of life and the way of death, urging the faithful to choose obedience and delight in God’s law as the path to flourishing. Luke 14 intensifies this call by demanding radical discipleship—renouncing possessions, relationships, and even self-interest to follow Christ wholeheartedly. In Philemon, Paul models this costly love by appealing for reconciliation and transformation, asking Philemon to receive Onesimus not as a slave but as a beloved brother. Together, these texts challenge believers to count the cost, embrace the cross, and walk the path of righteousness with courage and grace.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 13.” Copilot, 30 August 2025, Copilot website.

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)


Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

1960s Lutheran humor from Charles Schultz

The Second Reading: Philemon 1-21

Salutation
Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timothy our brother, To our beloved coworker Philemon, to our sister Apphia, to our fellow soldier Archippus, and to the church in your house: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

Philemon’s Love and Faith
I thank my God always when I mention you in my prayers, because I hear of your love for all the saints and your faith toward the Lord Jesus. I pray that the partnership of your faith may become effective as you comprehend all the good that we share in Christ.I have indeed received much joy and encouragement from your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, my brother.

Paul’s Plea for Onesimus
For this reason, though I am more than bold enough in Christ to command you to do the right thing, yet I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love—and I, Paul, do this as an old man and now also as a prisoner of Christ Jesus. 10 I am appealing to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I have become during my imprisonment. 11 Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful to you and to me. 12 I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you. 13 I wanted to keep him with me so that he might minister to me in your place during my imprisonment for the gospel, 14 but I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced. 15 Perhaps this is the reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back for the long term, 16 no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord. 17 So if you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. 18 If he has wronged you in any way or owes you anything, charge that to me. 19 I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand: I will repay it. I say nothing about your owing me even your own self. 20 Yes, brother, let me have this benefit from you in the Lord! Refresh my heart in Christ.21 Confident of your obedience, I am writing to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask. 22 One thing more: prepare a guest room for me, for I am hoping through your prayers to be restored to you.

Final Greetings and Benediction
23 Epaphras, my fellow prisoner in Christ Jesus, sends greetings to you,24 and so do Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke, my coworkers. 25 The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.

Reflection: The Story of Onesimus

Paul is traditionally credited with thirteen letters in the New Testament. Of these, seven are considered undisputed—Romans, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, and Philemon—widely accepted as authentically Pauline. The remaining six—Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, 1 and 2 Timothy, and Titus—are disputed, raising questions about authorship, theological development, and historical context. Philemon stands apart in its intimacy. It centers on a triangular relationship: Paul, the imprisoned apostle; Philemon, a house church leader and slaveholder; and Onesimus, an enslaved man who has encountered Paul and returned transformed.

Here’s a review of the basic facts: Written from a prison cell around 60-62 CE, Paul’s letter to Philemon is his shortest — merely 355 Greek words long. The key figures are Philemon, a Christian leader and slave owner in Colossae, and Onesimus, his runaway slave who encountered Paul and became a believer (sidebar: we never hear from Onesimus). Paul sends Onesimus back to Philemon with this letter, appealing for reconciliation and a transformed relationship. Rather than commanding Philemon, Paul diplomatically urges him to receive Onesimus not as a slave, but as a beloved brother in Christ.

What can we take away from this personal correspondence from the earliest days of the Christian movement? First, the radical nature of the letter is best understood in context. In the Greco-Roman world of Paul’s time, slavery was a widespread and socially accepted institution, with enslaved people making up a significant portion of the population and serving in roles from manual labor to skilled professions. Estimates are that roughly 35% of the population was enslaved! Slaves were considered property with no legal rights, though manumission (freedom) was possible and sometimes led to citizenship. Enslavement wasn’t based on race but on status, and people became slaves through war, birth, or debt. Paul’s letter to Philemon boldly challenges this system by urging Philemon to see his slave Onesimus not as property but as a brother in Christ. Paul chooses his words carefully (note verse 8 and beyond) but leaves little doubt of his intentions.

A.I. Generated Image

Second, this somewhat obscure letter from 2000 years ago speaks to us across the ages. Imagine Paul and Onesimus sitting in that jail cell, working through the particulars of the letter. Imagine the fear that Onesimus must have experienced as he traveled back to his former master! His willingness, I suspect, sheds light on his relationship of trust with Paul. As spiritual descendants of this story, the Apostle’s call for radical reconciliation, dignity, and spiritual kinship that transcends social status is breath-taking. Paul’s appeal to Philemon invites believers to embody grace—not just in personal forgiveness, but in how they view and treat others, especially those marginalized or wronged. Our challenge is to move beyond transactional relationships and embrace a community defined by love, mutual respect, and shared identity in Christ. How will we respond to that challenge?

Soli Deo Gloria!

Onesimus (Medieval Depiction)

Postscript: What happened to Onesimus? There is much mystery there. Onesimus became a symbol of Christian transformation and reconciliation. After encountering Paul in Rome and converting to Christianity, he returned to Philemon bearing Paul’s appeal for mercy and brotherhood. Early church tradition holds that Onesimus was later freed and rose to prominence as a church leader, possibly serving as bishop of Ephesus. His legacy endures as a testament to grace, justice, and the radical reordering of relationships within the early Christian community.

Prayer Reflection: The Imitation of Christ

Thomas à Kempis
(1380-1472)

The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis is a 15th-century devotional classic that urges readers to renounce worldly vanities and cultivate a life of humility, self-denial, and spiritual intimacy with Christ. Structured in four books, it offers meditative reflections on the interior life, the comfort of divine presence, and the transformative power of the Eucharist. Revered across centuries and traditions, it remains one of the most widely read Christian texts after the Bible, guiding seekers toward a quiet, contemplative discipleship. Here is a representative passage:

The life of a good religious person should shine in all virtue and be inwardly as it appears outwardly . . . We ought every day to renew our purpose in God, and to stir our hearts to fervor and devotion, as though it were the first day of our conversion. And we ought daily to pray and say: Help me, my Lord Jesus, that I may persevere in good purpose and in your holy service unto my death, and that I may now today perfectly begin, for I have done nothing in time past.

A Musical Offering: The Doxology (some nostalgia here)

Bishop Thomas Ken (1637-1711)

The well-known doxology that begins “Praise God from whom all blessings flow” was written by Anglican Bishop Thomas Ken in the late 1600s as part of hymns for students at Winchester College. First published in 1709, it quickly became a regular part of Christian worship, loved for its brief and powerful praise of the Trinity. Its style echoes older Jewish and early Christian traditions, where short songs of praise were used in prayer and worship. The tune often used for the doxology is called the “Old Hundredth,” written by Louis Bourgeois in 1551 for the Genevan Psalter, a Reformation-era songbook. (Note: The familiar hymn, “All People That on Earth Do Dwell,” is the tune associated with the Doxology — it is hymn 883 in the ELW). Though originally paired with Psalm 134, it became famous through Psalm 100 (“Old Hundredth”) and remains a central melody in Protestant worship because of its strong, simple beauty and deep historical roots. Like many of you, I grew up with this song, and especially associate it with potluck suppers in church basements or family gatherings at Thanksgiving and Christmas — and yes, how well I recall my father always having to clarify, ahead of time, how we were going to finish the song! (there are two versions of the last line) And, there were always those in our midst that manage to include rich harmonies during the “Amen!” The musical interpretation I posted here comes from jazz pianist Chuck Marohnic. Feel free to sing along!

Various Lyrics Associated With the Doxology

(The original)
Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below,
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host,
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.


And Prayers Before Eating (especially in church basements!)
Be present at our table, Lord;
Be here and everywhere adored.
Thy children bless, and grant that we
May feast in paradise with Thee. Amen.


Or . . .
Be present at our table, Lord;
Be here and everywhere adored.
Thy mercies bless, and grant that we
May strengthened for Thy service be. Amen.

Chuck Marohnic (b. 1940) is a renowned jazz pianist and educator whose career has spanned collaborations with legends like Chet Baker and Joe Henderson, as well as decades of teaching at Arizona State University. After retiring from academia, he turned his focus toward integrating jazz with spiritual practice, serving as a music minister in various Christian denominations. He co-founded Sanctuary Jazz, blending sacred themes with improvisational depth.

Faithful Conversations Updates

Regular worship will resume this week at ELC at 9:30. Sunday is also designated across the ELCA as “God’s Work, Our Hands” Sunday and after an abbreviated service, we will have a variety of activities going on related to that. Our in-person lectionary discussions will resume on Sunday, 14 September.

31 August 2025: Pentecost 12 (Ordinary 22)

Introduction to Readers

“The big majority of Americans, who are comparatively well-off, have developed an ability to have enclaves of people living in the greatest misery almost without noticing them.” — Gunnar Myrdal (1898-1987)

We live in a time marked by deep divisions. This week’s readings from Proverbs and Luke revolve around meals, invitations, and where people sit, both literally and metaphorically. The closing verses of Luke’s Gospel (14:13–14) remind me of a story my father shared with me many times. During his World War II training (1943), prior to his deployment to the Italian theater, he witnessed something that stayed with him for life (sidebar: much of his training took place in the South, but this incident was in a different region of the country. Also, a reminder that the US Military was not integrated until 1948). One evening, while eating with fellow soldiers, a Black man entered the restaurant and sat nearby. Unk’s training partner—a young lad from Georgia—suddenly stood up and left, visibly shaken and nearly sick. The reaction stunned Unk. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so shaped by racial prejudice that the simple presence of another person caused such a visceral response. I believe that moment, quiet but powerful, opened his eyes to the deeper divisions in the country he was preparing to defend. As a nineteen-year-old northern boy, he had never seen anything like it. Swedish economist and sociologist Gunnar Myrdal’s famous study, The American Dilemma: The Negro Problem and Modern Democracy, published around that time (1944), highlighted the deep contradiction between the United States’ democratic ideals and its systemic racism. Myrdal saw a deep spiritual crisis at the heart of American life: a nation that preached liberty and equality yet built systems that denied those very gifts to Black citizens. This contradiction, especially in the conscience of white Americans, became a kind of moral blindness—one that sustained injustice across generations. He believed that only by naming and repenting of this hypocrisy could the nation begin to walk the path of true reconciliation and justice. Though time has passed and progress has come, I believe we are still called—eighty-one years later—to wrestle with this same brokenness and seek healing with honesty, humility, and hope. More on this later in my reflection.

Moses the Black

Thanks for your continued interest in the Lectionary and for returning to this space! This week (August 28th) the ELCA commemorates both Augustine, Bishop of Hippo (CE 354-430), and Moses the Black, 4th Century monk and martyr. Recall that Martin Luther had Augustinian training under the guidance of Johann von Staupitz, who encouraged Luther’s deep engagement with grace, sin, and faith. This training laid the foundation for Luther’s theological breakthroughs, as he later drew heavily on Augustine’s writings while developing his own reformist ideas. And, a reminder — the modified version of the Lectio Divina I include each week, comes from Augustine. As for Moses the Black, his fascinating story is new to me, and I encourage you to read about him here.

** Note 1: Links to outside references are bolded and italicized and are meant for further reading or research on your part. While the text I am including in the blog is my own, I am pulling from a multitude of sites for ideas and connections.

** Note 2: In my increasing use of A.I. (Copilot), I will cite sourcing of how I am using the tool, if necessary. I don’t want that to be overly cumbersome, but I am gradually incorporating more tools. I am exploring the A.I. world this summer prior to my next teaching semester. As you can imagine, it is a great challenge right now and will forever change the face of education!


** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.

Common Themes Among the Readings

Pentecost 12 Readings

Proverbs 25: 6-7
Psalm 112
Hebrews 13: 1-8, 15-16
Luke 14: 1, 7-14

My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.

The readings for Pentecost 12 (Year C) center on humility, hospitality, and the quiet strength of righteousness. Proverbs 25:6–7 and Luke 14:7–14 both caution against self-promotion, urging listeners to take the lower seat and let honor come from others, especially God. Psalm 112 celebrates the life of the righteous—those who are gracious, generous, and just—whose legacy endures and whose hearts are steady. Hebrews 13 calls believers to live with love, integrity, and generosity, extending hospitality to strangers and remembering those who suffer. Together, these texts invite a posture of grounded humility and active compassion, reflecting the values of God’s kingdom rather than the hierarchies of the world.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 12.” Copilot, 25 August 2025, Copilot website.

LUTHER’S METHOD OF BIBLE READING
A Revision of the Lectio Divina (Augustinian)


Three Steps
Oratio (Prayer): This is the starting point, where one humbly prays for the Holy Spirit’s guidance to understand God’s Word. Luther emphasized that prayer prepares the heart and mind to receive divine wisdom.

Meditatio (Meditation): This involves deeply engaging with Scripture, not just reading it but reflecting on it repeatedly. Luther encouraged believers to “chew on” the Word, allowing its meaning to sink in and shape their thoughts and actions.

Tentatio (Struggle): Often translated as “trial” or “temptation,” this refers to the challenges and spiritual battles that arise as one seeks to live according to God’s Word. Luther saw these struggles as a way God refines faith, making it more resilient and authentic.

1960s Lutheran Humor!
Intense battles over Biblical Interpretation!
(1960s Lutheran humor)

Hebrews 13: 1-8, 15-16

13 Let mutual affection continue. Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it. Remember those who are in prison, as though you were in prison with them, those who are being tortured, as though you yourselves were being tortured. Let marriage be held in honor by all, and let the marriage bed be kept undefiled, for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterers. Keep your lives free from the love of money, and be content with what you have, for he himself has said, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” So we can say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper;
    I will not be afraid.
What can anyone do to me?” Remember your leaders, those who spoke the word of God to you; consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.
15 Through him, then, let us continually offer a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that confess his name. 16 Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God.

Luke 14: 1, 7-14

One Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was being carefully watched.
One Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was being carefully watched.
When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable: “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. 10 But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. 11 For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” 12 Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. 13 But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, 14 and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

Source: Bible Gateway

Reflection: “Welcoming Angels, Mending Wounds”

Isaiah the Prophet

On Sunday morning (yesterday), I had a “Holy Spirit moment” while listening to the first reading from Isaiah (thanks Sue Leadholm, for your reading, and also Pastor Jen for helping me think further regarding exclusion!). One verse stood out with unusual force—Isaiah 58:12: “You shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.” A bit of background for context: Isaiah 58 is a prophetic call to authentic faithfulness, where God—through the prophet—challenges hollow religious rituals and redirects attention toward justice, mercy, and community restoration. The chapter opens with a rebuke: the people are fasting and seeking God, but their actions are disconnected from righteousness—they exploit workers, quarrel, and ignore the oppressed. Instead of empty gestures, God calls for a fast that loosens the bonds of injustice, frees the oppressed, shares bread with the hungry, and shelters the homeless. It was that phrase—repairer of the breach— that stopped me in my tracks. It felt powerfully relevant and a call for Christians today, especially in a world so divided and wounded. It’s an age-old problem — excluding others — but listen for it in the daily news cycle! We are meant to be people who help mend what’s broken, who rebuild trust, and who provide space for others to live with dignity and hope. As followers of Christ, if we can’t do this — if we won’t do this — who will?

Jesus Invites the Outcasts (A.I. generated)

In turn, that verse and that moment reframed my hearing of the Hebrews 13 and Luke 14 readings in this week’s lectionary. The passage from Hebrews (the last of four in the lectionary cycle) reminds us, among other things, to show love to strangers, saying that in doing so, we may be welcoming angels without knowing it (13:2). Let that notion sink in for a moment. Luke takes this even further, urging us to invite those who cannot repay us—the poor, the forgotten, the excluded (14:13). Both passages suggest that hospitality isn’t just about being polite—it’s about seeing Christ in others, especially those who are vulnerable. It’s about creating space where grace can take root.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that scripture speaks differently each time we read it. Familiar passages can suddenly feel new, offering fresh insight or a deeper challenge. That’s part of the beauty of the Bible—it grows with us. Starting in late September, we’re inviting our members to begin a journey: reading through the Bible in a year. It’s a commitment, yes—but also an opportunity to hear God’s voice in new ways, to be shaped by the stories, wisdom, and promises that have guided generations. I hope you’ll join us. Let’s walk this path together.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Prayer Reflection: “On the Pulse of Morning” (Angelou)

Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.
Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream…


Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For a new beginning.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.
The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.

Drawn from Angelou’s Inaugural Poem, 20 January 1993.

A Musical Offering: “Jesus Calls Us Over the Tumult”

Cecil Frances Alexander (1818–1895), a beloved Irish hymn writer known for her poetic clarity and theological depth, wrote over 400 hymns, many for children, including All Things Bright and Beautiful and Once in Royal David’s City. This hymn was written for a Sunday service focused on the calling of the first disciples—Simon, Andrew, James, and John—by the Sea of Galilee (Matthew 4:18–22; Mark 1:16–18). Her husband, William Alexander, an Anglican clergyman (later Archbishop of Ireland), requested a hymn for that occasion. The hymn echoes Jesus’ call to leave behind worldly distractions and follow Him wholeheartedly. Lines like “Christian, love me more than these” draw inspiration from John 21:15, where Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me more than these?” It’s a call to discipleship amid the “tumult” of everyday life. If you need a few moments of calm in your day, enjoy this simple and clear piano interpretation!

Lyrics: Jesus Calls Us O’er the Tumult

1. Jesus calls us o’er the tumult
Of our life’s wild, restless sea;
Day by day his sweet voice sounding,
Saying, “Christian, follow me.”

2. Brothers Simon, Andrew heard it
By the Galilean lake,
Turned from home, and toil, and kindred,
Leaving all for His dear sake.

3. Jesus calls us from the worship
Of the vain world’s golden store,
From each idol that would keep us,
Saying, “Christian, love me more.”

4. In our joys and in our sorrows,
Days of toil and hours of ease,
Still he calls, in cares and pleasures,
“Christian, love me more than these.”

5. Jesus calls us—By your mercies,
Savior, may we hear your call,
Give our hearts to your obedience,
Serve and love you best of all.

Cecil Frances Alexander

Faithful Conversations: Two Updates

Next Sunday (31 August), ELC will offer one service at Hatfield at 10:15 (no in-town worship that day). This will the final Hatfield experience for this year and starting 7 September, we will resume our regular schedule (9:30 service at ELC). One 14 September, we will resume our in-person discussions of the lectionary after worship in the church library (10:45-11:30). ALL ARE WELCOME!