“There are a few times in life when you leap up and the past that you’d been standing on falls away behind you, and the future you mean to land on is not yet in place…” (Ann Patchett)
This week’s Gospel and Second Reading prompt thinking about thresholds we cross in life. Most of us can recall those quiet or sudden shifts when the ground beneath us gives way, and only later do we realize how sharply life divided into a before and an after. Fiction writer Ann Patchett, in her 2019 novel The Dutch House, captures this with striking clarity — we often step into new terrain without recognizing its weight until much later. The vivid scenes in Matthew 3 and Acts 10 unfold in just this way. At the Jordan, Jesus enters the waters of baptism and rises into the fullness of his public calling as the Beloved Son. In Caesarea, the Roman centurion Cornelius receives a vision that will open the gospel to the Gentile world and redirect the early church. Both narratives remind us that God often meets us at these crossings. More on that in my reflections.
Important Update on the Blog!
With 5 Epiphany (8 February), we complete the three‑year Revised Common Lectionary cycle that began in 2023 as an offshoot of an Introduction to Bible Study course—an experiment that has grown into more than 150 posts. Thank you for reading and making this part of your weekly rhythm. Beginning with Transfiguration Sunday (15 February), the blog will turn the page. I will still be following the RCL, but with a cleaner, simpler look. Over the next month I’ll be experimenting with the layout and trying out a few ideas to make it easier to read and navigate. This shift reflects a renewed focus on digital ministry and more intentional use of online tools for learning and reflection. The blog can also serve as a hub for future Bible studies and adult education.
One key change: I will no longer use a mailing list. To keep receiving new posts, please subscribe directly to the blog (no cost). After you enter your email, WordPress will send a verification link; clicking it confirms your subscription and prevents spam sign‑ups. You will find a subscribe block at the bottom of the blog and a pop-up subscribe application in the lower right also. I encourage you to go ahead and do that now, if you wish to continue receiving the blog.
** If you are already a subscriber through WordPress, no need to redo that process!
A Simple Strategy for Reading
#1: What is something NEW you learned in the reading?
#2: What is something that caused you to REFLECT?
#3: What is something you can RELATE to prior knowledge?
#4: What is something you would like to further DISCUSS?
The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages.
The readings for the Baptism of Our Lord center on God’s chosen servant, empowered by the Spirit to bring justice, healing, and light to the nations. Psalm 29 echoes this by portraying the majestic voice of the Lord over the waters, revealing divine power that both shakes creation and blesses God’s people with peace. Acts 10 proclaims that Jesus’ ministry—launched at his baptism—reveals a God who shows no partiality, extending peace and liberation to all peoples through the Spirit’s anointing. In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus’ baptism becomes the defining threshold moment where the heavens open, the Spirit descends, and the divine voice declares him the Beloved Son, marking the beginning of his mission.
Co-Pilot Prompt: “Comment on the themes from the Revised Common Lectionary for The Baptism of Our Lord.” 2 January 2026.
Focus Readings from Matthew and Acts
The Gospel 13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14 John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” 15 But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. 16 And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw God’s Spirit descending like a dove and alighting on him. 17 And a voice from the heavens said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
My source for the Biblical texts is the Bible Gateway website, NRSVUE.
Questions for Discussion
Where do you see signs that God may already be at work ahead of you — in a person, situation, or community you hadn’t expected — and what would it take for you to “cross the threshold” as Peter did?
Both Jesus at the Jordan and Peter in Caesarea step into moments that redraw the boundaries of who belongs. What inherited lines — personal, cultural, or congregational — might God be inviting us to re‑examine today?
The Second Reading 34 Then Peter began to speak to them: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, 35 but in every people anyone who fears him and practices righteousness is acceptable to him. 36 You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is Lord of all. 37 That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: 38 how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. 39 We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree, 40 but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, 41 not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. 42 He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. 43 All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”
Reflection: “Where the River Meets the Doorway”
Vision of Corelius, the Roman Centurion by Gerbrand van den Eeckhout (Dutch, 1664)
Two stories, two encounters that change everything. This Sunday we stand at a threshold where Scripture shows God expanding what we imagine is possible. In Matthew 3, Jesus steps into the Jordan and receives his divine affirmation and calling. In Acts 10, Peter crosses the doorway of a Roman centurion’s home and discovers that the Spirit has already gone before him.These moments are separated by roughly a decade and by miles of geography — from the wilderness of Judea to the coastal city of Caesarea — yet they share the same disruptive grace. What began at the river now breaks open in the household of a Gentile officer, revealing a God who keeps pushing the early church beyond its inherited lines and into a wider, more surprising future.
John the Baptist Church (Greek Orthodox), Jesus’ Baptismal Site, River Jordan
Jesus’ baptism happens around the year 28 or 29 CE at Bethany beyond the Jordan — Al‑Maghtas — the wilderness site where he steps into the water and into the public ministry that will reshape the world. By the time Peter stands in Caesarea, entering the home of Cornelius, we are roughly a decade later — early to mid‑40s CE — and the Jesus movement has spread north from Jerusalem into Judea, Samaria, and the coastal regions. Peter is no longer the fisherman from Galilee; he now leads a rapidly growing and increasingly diverse community of believers. Then Cornelius enters the story — a Roman officer, a Gentile, and a representative of the very empire that executed Jesus — already guided by a vision to send for Peter. His household becomes the unlikely setting for a major turning point in Christian history. Here Peter delivers one of the earliest and clearest summaries of the Gospel. And when he steps across that threshold and sees the Spirit poured out on Gentiles, the early church learns that God’s promise is not confined by ethnicity, purity codes, or inherited boundaries. This moment doesn’t just widen the circle; it redraws the map of who belongs.
These two moments — one at the river, one at a Roman household — offer lessons that still press on the church today. First, they remind us that God often begins new work long before we recognize it, inviting us to step into movements of grace already unfolding around us. Second, they challenge us to cross our own thresholds of fear, habit, or inherited boundary, trusting that the Spirit is at work in people and places we might never have expected. These are not just ancient stories; they are invitations to discern where God is calling us to move next!
Soli Deo Gloria!
Musical Meditation: The Only Son from Heaven
Elisabeth Cruciger (1500-1535)
Elisabeth Cruciger (born von Meseritz) came from a Polish noble family. When persecution forced her parents to flee to Wittenberg, she settled there as well and married Caspar Cruciger in 1524. Caspar, the son of a Leipzig townsman, began studying in Wittenberg in 1522 and quickly became one of Martin Luther’s closest and most promising students—Luther even treated him like a son. Caspar later served as Rector of St. John’s School and preacher at St. Stephen’s Church in Magdeburg, and in 1528 he joined the Wittenberg faculty as a professor of theology at Luther’s urging.
Out of this same Wittenberg circle came Elisabeth’s hymn The Only Son from Heaven, the earliest known Lutheran hymn written by a woman. It appeared in 1524 in the Erfurt Enchiridion, one of the first evangelical hymnals, where it was the only hymn by a female author. After leaving her convent, Cruciger entered Luther’s household community, where close contact with the reformers shaped her theological voice. Sung to the tune HERR CHRIST, DER EINIG GOTTS SOHN, the hymn has endured for five centuries and remains in use across Christian traditions (ELW 309). The version I included is in German and replicates how the hymn may have originally sounded.
Note: This information was drawn from the Hymnary.Org website, 3 January 2026.
Lyrics (ELW)
1 The only Son from heaven, foretold by ancient seers, by God the Father given, in human form appears. No sphere His light confining, no star so brightly shining as He, our Morning Star.
2 O time of God appointed, O bright and holy morn! He comes, the King anointed, the Christ, the virgin-born; grim death to vanquish for us, to open heav’n before us, and bring us life again.
3 Awaken, Lord, our spirit to know and love You more, in faith, to stand unshaken in spirit, to adore; that we, through this world moving, each glimpse of heaven proving, may reap its fullness there.
4 O Father, here before You with God the Holy Ghost, and Jesus, we adore You, O pride of angel-host. Before You mortals lowly cry, “Holy, holy, holy, O blessed Trinity!”
This YouTube channelcreates electronic interpretations of Medieval, Renaissance, and Baroque music. The producer gathers MIDI files from various sources, edits them, and arranges them into virtual concerts, using digital tools to mimic the sound of early instruments like the shawm, crumhorn, viol, lute, and cornetto. The visuals draw on public‑domain artwork and manuscript images, and a voice‑simulation program supplies the sung texts. The creator continues to refine earlier uploads and occasionally adds new pieces inspired by pre‑1800 musical styles.
Prayer Reflection: Vision of the Future
Dutch Theologian Henri Nouwen (1932-1996)
“Often it is the dark forest that makes us speak about the open field. Frequently prison makes us think about freedom, hunger helps us to appreciate food, and war gives us words for peace. Not seldom are our visions of the future born out of the sufferings of the present and our hope for others out of our own despair. Only few “happy endings” make us happy, but often someone’s careful and honest articulation of the ambiguities, uncertainties and painful conditions of life gives us new hope. The paradox is indeed that new life is born out of the pains of the old.” (Henri Nouwen)
Inspired Prayer: O God, who meets us in the dark forests of our lives, teach us to trust that the very places of hunger, longing, and uncertainty can open our eyes to freedom, peace, and new possibility. Give us the courage to speak honestly of our pain and the grace to discover, even there, the quiet beginnings of new life. Amen.
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!
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. We cross over into 1 Kings this week and are just past 1/4 completion. We have also read 2/3 of the Psalms at this point.
“A thing may be incredible and still be true; sometimes it is incredible because it is true.” ~ Herman Melville
Herman Melville remains my favorite fiction writer, and the aphorism above from his 1849 novel Mardi names a hard truth: we often turn away from what is real simply because it unsettles us. That insight still lands with force. Scholars often cast Melville as a man locked in a fierce struggle with Christian faith — unable to claim it fully, yet unable to release it. Many of us know that tension. Melville read the King James Bible with care, and its rhythms pulse through his novels, essays, and poems. Once you start listening for them, those biblical echoes become part of the pleasure of reading him. His mix of honesty, restlessness, and reverence keeps drawing me back. He refuses to let us settle. He urges us to look again. As we move through the Christmas season — its beauty, its strangeness, its long and layered history — we meet stories that still stretch our imaginations: a virgin birth, the incarnation, angels breaking open the night, a star pulling foreign seekers across deserts. It’s no surprise that many outside the Christian story view these claims with skepticism. Yet these exciting mysteries invite us to consider how truth can rise beyond what we think possible.
Update: Our Lectionary Journey
In case you want to sing the familiar song!
Since February of 2023, we have explored the church calendar, and I appreciate your ongoing interest in the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL)! One surprising discovery in preparing this post: the earliest Christians apparently didn’t celebrate Christmas. Their worship centered on Easter and the Resurrection, the heartbeat of their faith. The first observance of Jesus’ birth actually lived inside Epiphany — a single feast that once held his birth, the Magi’s visit, and his baptism together. Only in the fourth century, as Christianity gained legal standing in the Roman Empire, did Christmas emerge on December 25. Over time, shaped especially by German and northern European traditions, our modern holiday took on the form we now assume is ancient, though much of it isn’t. You can feel that older rhythm in the Twelve Days of Christmas, a pattern reaching back to the Council of Tours in 567 CE, when the church crafted a calendar to help believers linger with the mystery of Christ’s birth. These days carry us toward Epiphany, rooted in the Greek epiphaneia—appearance, manifestation, revelation. Historians might call it the moment when the hidden becomes visible; the church calls it a season when God’s presence breaks through in unexpected, life‑altering ways. From the Magi’s long journey to Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan, Epiphany invites us to revisit familiar stories and discover that they still have something new to reveal. I will explore that further in my reflections.
Finally, here’s a calendar consideration for this week. Across many Christian traditions, January 1 marks the commemoration of the Name of Jesus, historically tied to the eighth day after his birth, when—according to Luke—he was circumcised and formally given the name “Jesus.” This name, announced by the angel before his conception, means “Yahweh is salvation.” If inclined, here’s some further history on that commemoration.
A Simple Strategy for Reading
#1: What is something NEW you learned in the reading?
#2: What is something that caused you to REFLECT?
#3: What is something you can RELATE to prior knowledge?
#4: What is something you would like to further DISCUSS?
The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages.
The readings for the Second Sunday after Christmas share themes of divine restoration, incarnation, and grace. Jeremiah envisions God gathering and comforting a scattered people, promising joy even amid sorrow, while Psalm 147 celebrates God’s sustaining power in creation and providence. Ephesians lifts this vision higher, proclaiming that believers are chosen and blessed in Christ, redeemed and sealed by the Spirit as part of God’s eternal plan. John’s prologue crowns these themes, declaring that the Word became flesh, bringing light, truth, and grace into the world, so that all might receive adoption as children of God.
Co-Pilot Prompt: “Comment on the themes from the Revised Common Lectionary for 2 Christmas.” 26 December 2025.
Common Themes Among the Readings
The readings for the Epiphany of Our Lord reveal a God who draws all nations into the light of divine revelation. Isaiah and the psalm envision a world where kings and peoples are drawn to God’s radiance and justice, while Ephesians proclaims that this long‑hidden mystery — God’s inclusive grace — is now made known in Christ for all. Matthew’s story of the Magi embodies this universal invitation, showing that even those from distant lands recognize and honor the light that has come into the world.
Co-Pilot Prompt: “Comment on the themes from the Revised Common Lectionary for Epiphany.” 26 December 2025.
1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it. 6 There was a man sent from God whose name was John. 7 He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. 8 He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. 9 The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. 10 He was in the world, and the world came into being through him, yet the world did not know him. 11 He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. 12 But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, 13 who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God. 14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. 15 (John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’ ”) 16 From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. 17 The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God. It is the only Son, himself God, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.
My source for the Biblical text is the Bible Gateway website, NRSVUE.
Questions for Discussion
1. John opens his Gospel with the same words that begin Genesis: “In the beginning…” How does this deliberate echo of the creation story shape your understanding of who Jesus is—and how might returning to these ancient texts, again and again, deepen your own spiritual practice or sense of identity?
2. John describes Christ as the “true light” that shines in the darkness, a light the darkness cannot overcome. How do you see that light breaking into the world today—both in large, public ways and in small, personal ones—and what does it mean for us to bear witness to that light as John did?
Reflection: “The God Who Pitches a Tent Among Us“
Our faith, like history, never stands still. As a historian, I’ve learned that the stories we inherit keep unfolding each time we return to them, shaped by the questions we carry and the lives we’ve lived since our last encounter. That’s why the historian’s craft has always felt so close to the work of the church for me: we revisit these texts, turn them in the light, and let them speak with fresh force. The Revised Common Lectionary gives us that rhythm. Its three‑year cycle brings familiar passages back until they feel like old friends — steady companions who still manage to surprise us. And Christmas, perhaps more than any season, reveals how layered those surprises can be. As Pastor Jen reminded us on Christmas Eve, joy and ache often sit side by side—memories that warm us, memories that unsettle us, nostalgia for a church that once felt different, or quiet questions about what we believe.
The Christmas story familiar to us derives from Matthew and Luke — Mark and John do not include it. John begins his Gospel not with a manger or a genealogy but with a prologue that feels like stepping into eternity. (Sidebar: I often find it helpful to read these passages aloud — and that is certainly the case with John’s prologue!). Before shepherds, before angels, before Bethlehem, John takes us to the beginning—“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.” Clearly, John is echoing the creation accounts from Genesis — note this language: “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light.” I can almost hear the voice of Spock from Star Trek here — fascinating!
And then, in one breathtaking line, he brings that cosmic sweep down to earth: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us.” *The Greek verb translated “lived” is skenóō—literally, pitched his tent. John wants us to imagine God not as distant or abstract but as someone who moves into the neighborhood and chooses to dwell right in the middle of our ordinary, fragile lives. It’s an astonishing claim. The incarnation stretches our imaginations to the breaking point, yet our faith is grounded in it. Luther once said that if we actually saw the raw majesty of God, it would terrify us—crush us. That’s why Christ took on our humanity. God comes to us in a form we can bear, a presence we can approach, a face we can recognize. The tent is pitched not on some distant mountaintop but here, among us. And that makes John’s next observation all the more heartbreaking: “He came to his own, and his own did not accept him.” The NRSVue notes an alternate translation: “He came to his own home.” Christ came home — and home rejected him. Imagine the grief of that.
Mindy Misener
In her commentary on this text in The Christian Century, writer and Yale Divinity student Mindy Misener presses into this theme of rejection. She reminds us that the longing for home runs deep in Scripture and deep in human experience. Most of us, she writes, lose at least one home in our lifetime—sometimes gently, as time reshapes a place we once knew; sometimes violently, as homes are swept away by disaster, war, or the decisions of people far removed from the suffering they cause. Such losses, she notes, are nothing short of traumatic.
John tells us that Christ came home and was turned away. Yet that rejection did not stop him from making a home in this world, revealing God’s glory in the very place that resisted him. And many did receive him. John lingers on that word—receive—a physical verb before it becomes a theological one. The first disciples welcomed him not only with belief but with their lives, their tables, their presence. They said, in countless practical ways, welcome home. As Misener asserts, It’s tempting to let “home” drift into metaphor, but the child stumbling out of a bomb‑blasted city does not need a metaphor. She needs a home. And John’s prologue suggests that receiving Christ always pushes us toward making room for others—real people, real bodies, real dwellings.
So what lessons rise from this passage? Misener’s insight helps us see at least three, each one pressing into the heart of the Gospel. First, God knows the ache of homelessness—Christ himself steps into it. He enters a world that does not always make room for him, carrying in his own story the dislocation so many of us know. Second, God’s response to that ache is not abstraction but incarnation. The Word does not hover above human suffering; he pitches his tent among us, choosing proximity over distance, presence over detachment, solidarity over safety. And third, God invites us to embody that same nearness. To receive Christ is to create space where others can belong, to offer shelter where the world has offered none, to practice welcome in ways as concrete as the needs before us — meals shared, doors opened, dignity restored, homes rebuilt.
Soli deo Gloria!
* This reference is drawn from Pastor Elisabeth Johnson’s commentary on this text in Working Preacher from 2 January 2022. She does a beautiful job of explaining this text!
** I am indebted to Mindy Misener for this interpretation. Her article appears in the January 2026 issue of The Christian Century. She offers an interpretation of the Epiphany texts as well.
Musical Meditation: Of the Father’s Love Begotten
No hymn captures the opening sweep of John’s Gospel quite like Of the Father’s Love Begotten. Its roots reach all the way back to the 4th century, when the poet Prudentius wrote it as a way of expressing the same mystery John names in his prologue — the eternal Word through whom all things came to be. It’s a natural fit for this week’s Gospel reading — a companion to John’s vision, reminding us that the child in the manger is the One “begotten before all worlds.” In its simplicity and depth, the hymn invites us to stand with John in wonder as eternity steps into time. The version I’m sharing here offers its own distinctive interpretation of this old treasure. In the ELW, you’ll find it at #295. And, by the way, the poem originally had nine verses — the ones you see here are typically used in modern versions.
Of the Father’s love begotten, Ere the worlds began to be, He is Alpha and Omega, He the source, the ending He, Of the things that are, that have been, And that future years shall see, Evermore and evermore!
He is found in human fashion, Death and sorrow here to know, That the race of Adam’s children Doomed by law to endless woe, May not henceforth die and perish In the dreadful gulf below, Evermore and evermore!
O ye heights of heaven adore Him; Angel hosts, His praises sing; Powers, dominions, bow before Him, And extol our God and King! Let no tongue on earth be silent, Every voice in concert sing, Evermore and evermore!
Christ, to Thee with God the Father, And, O Holy Ghost, to Thee, Hymn and chant with high thanksgiving, And unwearied praises be: Honor, glory, and dominion, And eternal victory, Evermore and evermore!
ChurchFolk is a folk‑influenced worship collective that grew out of College Church in Wheaton, a historic congregation long intertwined with the Wheaton College community. Its members include musicians from the church’s staff and congregation.
Prayer Reflection: New Year’s Eve
Eternal God, you have placed us in a world of space and time, and through the events of our lives you bless us with your love. Grant that in the new year we may know your presence, see your love at work, and live in the light of the event that gives us joy forever — the coming of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.
Source: ELW. Lesser Festivals, Commemorations, and Occasions (2006). page 63.
Faithful Conversation 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!
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. We cross over into 1 Kings this week and are just past 1/4 completion. We have also read 2/3 of the Psalms at this point.
“History is the story of God’s dealings with humanity.” (Augustine of Hippo)
Saint Augustine (354-430) by Philippe de Champaigne
Herman Astrup Larsen (1915-2003)
Next Sunday’s Gospel reading stirs a memory from long ago and far away. “So, what do you think, Rykken — does God work in history?” Dr. Herman Larsen, my first college history professor, lobbed that question at me in his cramped Old Main office as I stumbled through an oral report on Bainton’s biography of Martin Luther. I froze. Whatever I managed to say could not have impressed him. Larsen — Yale‑trained, sharp as a tack, and a campus legend — commanded a classroom like few others. He strode in, opened his notes, and immediately launched a barrage of questions from the previous session and the assigned reading. Sixty of us, mostly young men in the mid‑1970s, sat there praying he wouldn’t call our name, fearing we’d come up short. Only later did I learn that he and his wife had survived imprisonment by the Japanese during World War II while serving as missionaries in the Philippines — a backstory that lent his teaching a gravity we sensed but didn’t yet understand.
Historians are fascinated with contingency — the recognition that history is not a straight line but a web of possibilities. Change one decision, one accident, one moment of courage or cruelty, and the story shifts. The “what-ifs” of history — the counterfactuals — are certainly fascinating in the grand narrative of the past and in our own lives as well. Larsen, both historian and ordained pastor, insisted that God’s hand moved through those shifting possibilities. He pointed to Galatians 4:4 — “in the fullness of time, God sent forth his Son” — as evidence that divine purpose could inhabit even the fragile, unpredictable flow of human events. Echoing Augustine, his claim landed with surprising force, though I suspect I couldn’t take it in at the time. Fifty years later, his question returns as Matthew tells of a holy family on the run, pushed across borders by fear and violence. The Gospel for the First Sunday of Christmas reminds us that if God works in history, God works in this kind of history—raw, unsettled, shaped by choices and contingencies, threaded with both peril and unexpected rescue. Emmanuel does not wait for a stable world; he enters the one we actually have. I’ll explore that more in my reflections.
St. Stephen, the Martyr by Diego Polo
Thanks for your journey into this space again this week and Merry Christmas! We have several commemorations on a full calendar this week: Stephen, Deacon and Martyr, on Friday (I was named for both Paul and Stephen and Stephen’s martyrdom, of course, is connected to Paul, something my father made sure I understood), John, Apostle and Evangelist on Saturday, and The Holy Innocents, Martyrs, on Sunday. Their story derives from Matthew’s Gospel, something I will include in my reflection. I have also included the hauntingly beautiful carol, In the Bleak Midwinter, if you want a few moments of peace at some point this week. Finally, I have posted the fifth and final excerpt of the interview with Pastor Jen regarding the Malawi trip from October. Enjoy!
A Simple Strategy for Reading
#1: What is something NEW you learned in the reading?
#2: What is something that caused you to REFLECT?
#3: What is something you can RELATE to prior knowledge?
#4: What is something you would like to further DISCUSS?
The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages.
Give it a try this week!
This Week’s Readings
Christmas Eve 24 December
Isaiah 9: 2-7 Psalm 96 Titus 2: 11-14 Luke 2: 1-14 (15-20)
Christmas Day II 25 December
Isaiah 62: 6-12 Psalm 97 Titus 3: 4-7 Luke 2 (1-7) 8-20
Connections Between Readings and Common Themes for 1 Christmas
The readings for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the First Sunday of Christmas form a kind of widening arc: Christmas Eve leans into anticipation and proclamation, Christmas Day celebrates the mystery of the Word made flesh, and 1 Christmas turns our attention to what that incarnation means for the world God loves. The 1 Christmas texts share a striking common thread: God’s fierce, protective solidarity with humanity. Isaiah 63 recalls God’s steadfast mercy and saving presence; Psalm 148 summons all creation into praise because God’s glory has drawn near; Hebrews 2 insists that Christ becomes fully human in order to break the power of fear and death; and Matthew’s account of the flight into Egypt shows that the incarnation enters the world’s danger, injustice, and displacement rather than avoiding it. Together, these readings reveal a God who not only comes among us but travels with us into the hardest places, turning vulnerability into redemption and inviting all creation to join the song of deliverance.
Prompt for Co-Pilot: “Provide a one paragraph explanation of the relationship between the readings for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and 1 Christmas and also an exploration of the common themes among the 1 Christmas Readings.” 20 December 2025.
Focus Reading from Matthew’s Gospel
Adoration of the Magi, c. 1487, by Ghirlandaio
Note: For context, here is a short summary of the preceding verses (2-12): The Magi arrive in Jerusalem seeking the newborn king after seeing his star rise in the east. Herod, disturbed by their news, gathers the chief priests and scribes to learn where the Messiah is to be born and secretly urges the Magi to report back to him. Guided again by the star, the Magi travel to Bethlehem, find the child with Mary, and offer gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they depart for their own country by another road.
13 Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” 14 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt 15 and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.” 16 When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the magi. 17 Then what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:
18 “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”
19 When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, 20 “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” 21 Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. 22 But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. 23 There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazarene.”
Reflection: Home By Another Way
“Massacre of the Innocents” Léon Cogniet (1794-1880)
As a child, I was captivated by the Magi — mysterious travelers from the east, following a star across deserts and borders to kneel before a child. Part of my intrigue owed to the fact that my parents had an LP of Amahl and the Night Visitorsthat I listened to over and over again. Their story felt full of wonder: strange gifts, strange dreams, strange courage. But Matthew places their visit right on the edge of danger. Their quiet act of homage becomes the turning point in the narrative, for once they slip away by another road, Herod’s fear hardens into violence (James Taylor wrote a great song about this!). And so, in the days after Christmas, Matthew’s Gospel turns us from angels and shepherds toward a far harsher reality. An angel warns Joseph in a dream to take Mary and the child and flee to Egypt, and they escape just before Herod unleashes violence on Bethlehem’s children. Historians note that this event appears only in Matthew and debate whether it occurred exactly as described, yet the story rings true to Herod’s character and to the long pattern of rulers using violence to protect their power. Matthew frames it with Jeremiah’s haunting line: “Rachel weeping for her children… because they are no more.” The French artist Cogniet captured the horror in his famous painting — the terror in a mother’s eyes speaks volumes.
And, that ancient cry feels amazingly modern. I think back to the shooting at Abundant Life Christian School here in Wisconsin one year ago — one more entry in the long, heartbreaking list of school shootings in our country. And this week, again. A mass shooting at Brown University during a study session left two students dead and nine others wounded. And the world watched in grief as gunmen opened fire at a Hanukkah celebration on Sydney’s Bondi Beach, killing fifteen people, including a 12‑year‑old child. Once again, families ran for safety; once again, parents searched for their children; once again, Rachel wept.
In my forty‑one years of full‑time teaching, the hardest days were always those marked by school shootings somewhere in our state or nation—moments that sent a chill through the ordinary rhythms of the classroom. Active‑shooter drills gradually became part of our normal routine, and I often wondered what it meant for the psyche of our children to rehearse for unthinkable violence. Even now, I feel that same hollow ache each time tragedy erupts—the barricades, the hiding places, the surreal sense that we are preparing for something that should never happen. Matthew does not shield us from this reality. He tells the truth: the Incarnation unfolds in a world marked by fear, displacement, and violence. And yet this is precisely the world into which Christ comes — a world where families flee danger, where innocents suffer, where darkness seems to have the upper hand, and where God still chooses to dwell with us.
The March of the Wise Men by Leopold Kupelwieser, 1825
Let’s ponder this as we approach the powerful Christmas stories we will hear this week: As Christians, we walk in two worlds: the temporal one, where our civic engagement and moral clarity matter deeply, and the eternal one, where God’s promise of justice and peace anchors our hope. Holding both has never been easy. But Matthew’s story of the Magi, the warning dream, and the family’s flight reminds us that God has always been at work in history — quietly, persistently — guiding people toward life, even when the road bends unexpectedly. The Magi went home by another way, and so do we, trusting that God still works in the shadows, still protects the vulnerable, still leads us toward safety and light. May we listen for the angel’s voice, stand with those who flee danger, refuse to grow numb to Rachel’s tears, and trust that even in these troubled times, the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
Soli deo Gloria!
** Much has been written about the Massacre of the Innocents and whether or not it actually occurred as reported in Matthew. If interested, this author offers a thorough analysis of the story in all its complexity.
Musical Meditation: In the Bleak Midwinter
T.S. Eliot’s Journey of the Magi begins with that stark admission: “a cold coming we had of it… the worst time of the year for a journey.” Those of us who live in northern climates know exactly what he meant. Winter can feel endless—dark, biting, and wearying. Christina Rossetti wrote A Christmas Carol in 1872 out of this same wintry imagination. Her poem isn’t about Bethlehem’s climate but about the coldness and poverty of the human heart into which Christ is born. Years later, Gustav Holst set her words to the haunting melody we know today simply by its first line — In the Bleak Midwinter. Read alongside Eliot, Rossetti’s carol speaks to all of us who know real winter — the long nights, the frozen landscapes, the quiet waiting. Together they remind us that God enters our own bleak midwinters and asks only the offering of the heart. Revelation often comes in winter, and the light we seek is born in the cold. Here’s an excellent version of the familiar hymn from Tenebrae, a choral group from Great Britain.
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain; Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign. In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day, Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay; Enough for Him, whom angels fall before, The ox and ass and camel which adore.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there, Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air; But His mother only, in her maiden bliss, Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.
What can I give Him, poor as I am? If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb; If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part; Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.
Tenebrae is a professional choral ensemble based in London, founded in 2001 by former King’s Singer Nigel Short. Known for its exceptional precision, rich sound, and dramatic performance style, the group performs a wide repertoire ranging from Renaissance polyphony to contemporary works. Tenebrae has toured internationally, recorded extensively, and is widely regarded as one of Britain’s leading vocal ensembles.
Prayer Reflection: A Vision of a World Made New
Eleanor Roosevelt (1944)
Eleanor Roosevelt’s prayer A Vision of a World Made New emerged from her work at the United Nations after World War II, where she helped guide the creation of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Though she wasn’t conventionally religious, her Episcopal upbringing and her deep trust in the dignity of every person shaped both her public leadership and her private devotions; her son remembered that she prayed these words every night. What moves me is how her prayer gathers moral imagination, compassion, and responsibility into a single plea—that God would ‘show us a vision of a world made new.’ It has become one of my favorite prayers, and it’s a good one for all of us to return to often.
Our Father, who has set a restlessness in our hearts and made us all seekers after that which we can never fully find, forbid us to be satisfied with what we make of life. Draw us from base content and set our eyes on far off goals. Keep us at tasks too hard for us that we may be driven to Thee for strength. Deliver us from fretfulness and self-pitying; make us sure of the good we cannot see and of the hidden good in the world. Open our eyes to simple beauty all around us and our hearts to the loveliness men hide from us because we do not try to understand them. Save us from ourselves and show us a vision of the world made new. Amen.
Faithful Conversation 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!
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK:
1. Matthew places the wonder of the Magi right next to the violence of Herod. How does holding these two realities together shape your understanding of the Incarnation and the world Christ enters? 2. Matthew’s story includes dreams, warnings, flight, and the weeping of Rachel. Where do you see echoes of this story in our world today, and how might Christians faithfully “walk in two worlds” as people of both realism and hope?
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. We have reached the 25% mark and beyond this week!
Reflections On Malawi: Part 5
Pastor Jenny Hatleli
Since 1999, the Northwest Synod of Wisconsin and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Malawi have been companions in ministry. Recently, several NW Synod representatives, including Pastor Jen Hatleli and Patti Whitworth from ELC, traveled there and met with many of our partners in the region. During Advent, I am posting excerpts from my interview with her about the trip. In our final exchange, I asked Pastor Jen how she felt the Malawi trip would impact her approach to ministry going forward.
“When we suffer from amnesia, every form of serious authority for faith is in question, and we live unauthorized lives of faith and practice unauthorized ministries.”(Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination)
Spurred by Pope Leo’s recent travels, Creeds have been on my mind this week. In the rush of headlines—and our constant focus on domestic politics—most Americans overlook international stories. Yet Pope Leo XIV’s visit to Turkey this week — his first international trip as Pope — drew attention back to the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea. On November 28, he joined Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I and other Christian leaders in Iznik (ancient Nicaea) for an ecumenical prayer service at the ruins of the Basilica of Saint Neophytos, where the Nicene Creed was recited as a sign of unity. The Pope urged Christians to overcome “the scandal of divisions” and called for dialogue across faiths. Just days earlier, on November 23, he issued an apostolic letter, In Unitate Fidei (“In the Unity of Faith”), underscoring the enduring power of the Creed to unite Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants. His visit blended historical commemoration with a broader appeal for reconciliation and peace. Imagine if we focused more attention on stories such as these!
So, a reminder regarding creeds. In our Lectionary discussion last Sunday, we touched on the difference between creedal and non-creedal churches. Creedal traditions — i.e. Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, Lutheran, Presbyterian — formally affirm and often recite the Apostles’, Nicene, and Athanasian Creeds as authoritative summaries of faith, preserving unity with the ancient church (sidebar: In the ELCA, we say the Apostles’ Creed often, and the Nicene Creed occasionally. I cannot recall ever reciting the Athanasian Creed during worship, but that is a topic for another day).Non-creedal churches, by contrast, reject binding creeds, insisting on Sola Scriptura (“Scripture alone”) and often relying on local statements of faith. Many Baptist, non-denominational, and Restorationist congregations embody this stance, wary of elevating human words above God’s Word. Lutherans, however, have always been shaped by creeds. From the Reformation onward, Luther and his followers held fast to the three aforementioned creeds, while also writing their own confessions — like the Augsburg Confession and Luther’s Catechisms — later gathered in the Book of Concord. These creeds and confessions gave Lutherans a shared voice, safeguarded core truths about God and Christ, and distinguished them from both Catholicism and non-creedal movements. Walter Brueggemann’s opening warning rings true here. As Lutherans, we use creeds to resist amnesia, keeping memory alive and connecting us with generations of saints before us. History, yes, is important.
Thanks for your continuing interest in studying the Bible and exploring the Revised Common Lectionary! Following up from last week, my reflections will focus on the Isaiah passage. I’m also including a unique interpretation of a familiar Advent hymn, a prayer from Pope Leo XIV, and the second excerpt of an interview with Pastor Jen regarding her trip to Malawi.
NOTES REGARDING SOURCING:
** 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.
** Note 3: The images I include in the blog are drawn from Wikimedia Commons to the fullest extent possible.
Common Themes Among the Readings
2 Advent Readings
Isaiah 11:1-10 Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19 Romans 15: 4-13 Matthew 3:1-12
My source for the Bible readings each week is the Bible Gateway website. I generally use the NRSVUE translation.
The readings for 2 Advent share strong themes of hope, justice, and preparation for God’s coming reign. Isaiah 11 envisions a shoot from the stump of Jesse—a messianic figure filled with God’s Spirit who will bring righteousness, peace, and harmony to creation. Psalm 72 echoes this vision, praying for a king who rules with justice, defends the poor, and ushers in flourishing and peace. In Romans 15, Paul ties this hope to Christ, urging believers to live in harmony and welcome one another, showing that God’s promises extend to both Jews and Gentiles. Matthew 3 introduces John the Baptist, who calls people to repentance and readiness for the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire. Together, these texts highlight God’s promise of a righteous ruler, the call to communal justice and peace, and the urgent need to prepare our hearts for Christ’s coming.
“Describe the common themes among the readings for 2 Advent.” Copilot, 29 November 2025, Copilot website.
A Strategy for Reading
The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages. This is something my son Jake shared with me while attending West Point in the early 2000s (a history class), and I have used it with my students ever since. Give it a try this week!
What is something NEW you learned?
What is something that made you REFLECT?
What is something that RELATES to prior knowledge?
What is something you would like to further DISCUSS?
Focus Passage: Isaiah 11:1-10
11 A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. 2 The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. 3 His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord. He shall not judge by what his eyes see or decide by what his ears hear, 4 but with righteousness he shall judge for the poor and decide with equity for the oppressed of the earth; he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked. 5 Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist and faithfulness the belt around his loins. 6 The wolf shall live with the lamb; the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the lion will feed together, and a little child shall lead them. 7 The cow and the bear shall graze; their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. 8 The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. 9 They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea. 10 On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.
Isaiah by Michelangelo (1475-1564)
A reminder: Keep in mind that the Psalm included among the lection each week is meant to echo or be a commentary on the Old Testament passage — certainly true this week!
Reflections: Prophecy in Context, Promise for Today
Hezekiah showing off his wealth to envoys of the Babylonian king (Vicente López Portaña, 1789)
Isaiah’s voice rings out again in Year A of the lectionary, and one can almost hear the thunder in his words: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.” He is speaking into the late 8th century BCE, a time when Judah was caught between empires and living under the shadow of Assyrian domination. The northern kingdom of Israel had already fallen to Assyria in 722 BCE, and Judah itself was vulnerable, its people anxious about survival and the future of David’s royal line. Into this moment of fear and uncertainty, Isaiah proclaimed hope: that from the “stump” of Jesse — the family line of David — new life would emerge. For Isaiah’s first hearers, this was not a distant messianic dream, but a promise tied to their own history, a vision of King Hezekiah whose reign brought reform, renewed trust in God, and a measure of peace even in the face of overwhelming threat. (Sidebar: Everything didn’t go well for Hezekiah. After recovering from an illness, King Hezekiah proudly showed Babylonian envoys all the treasures of his palace and armory. The prophet Isaiah rebuked him, warning that this display of wealth would lead to Judah’s riches and even his descendants being carried off into exile. This story, found in 2 Kings 20:12–19 and Isaiah 39:1–8, highlights the danger of pride and misplaced trust in human powers rather than in God).
Jesus Reading from Ancient Texts (A.I. generated 2025)
Fast forward several centuries. First generation Christians (many of whom were raised within Judaism) heard these words from Isaiah differently. They did so because their world had been reshaped by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, which reframed ancient promises in light of a Messiah who had already come rather than one still awaited. As Christians, we cannot help but hear these words through the lens of Jesus, the one who embodies wisdom, justice, and peace in ways that surpass any earthly king. Yet we must pause and honor how Jewish hearers would not have seen Jesus here; their longing was for deliverance in their own time, not centuries later. For them, Isaiah’s vision resonated with hopes for national restoration and relief from oppression, not the inauguration of a new covenant. That tension reminds us that prophecy is always heard in context, and that God’s word speaks differently across generations. In our own day, these same words continue to meet us in fresh ways — sometimes as a call to justice in our communities, sometimes as comfort in seasons of loss, and sometimes as a reminder that God’s promises are larger than any single moment. Prophecy, then, is not a static prediction but a living word.
And so, what is the takeaway for those of us in the Christian community today? Isaiah’s vision is not just about a ruler, but about a transformed world. For his original audience, the images of wolves lying with lambs and children playing safely near wild animals were not fanciful but deeply symbolic: they represented the end of violence, the undoing of fear, and the restoration of creation to harmony under God’s reign. In a society where survival often depended on strength and where predators were a constant threat, these pictures of peace would have sounded almost unimaginable — a radical reversal of the way things were. For Christians, the imagery points us toward Christ, who breaks down hostility and calls us into a kingdom where reconciliation is possible. In our own fractured time, Isaiah’s vision invites us to imagine what life could be if God’s justice truly reigned — a peace that defies division, a hope that steadies us, and a call to bring this hope to those we meet along the path.
Soli Deo Gloria!
Note: I am indebted to Cory Driver of Miami University in Ohio for his interpretation of this passage from 2022, accessed from the Working Preacher website, sponsored by Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. You can read his essay here.
We will explore this passage further in our Sunday Lectionary group using the discussion questions included in the Faithful Conversations update below.
Advent Hymn: Come Thou Long Expected Jesus
Charles Wesley (1707-1788)
Charles Wesley, principal founder of Methodism, wrote Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus in 1744, moved by both Scripture and the social needs he witnessed in England. Drawing on passages like Haggai 2:7, he framed Christ as the “dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart,” capturing the universal hope for a Savior. The hymn was first published in Hymns for the Nativity of Our Lord and later gained wider recognition when Charles Spurgeon quoted it in a Christmas sermon in 1855. Over time, it became a beloved Advent hymn across denominations. Its enduring power lies in its dual focus: remembering Christ’s birth in Bethlehem while anticipating His future reign, making it both a prayer of longing and a declaration of hope. (Hymn 254, ELW). Enjoy this unique version from Celtic Worship — feel free to sing along!
LYRICS 1. Come, thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free; from our fears and sins release us, let us find our rest in thee. Israel’s strength and consolation, hope of all the earth thou art; dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart.
2. Born thy people to deliver, born a child and yet a King, born to reign in us forever, now thy gracious kingdom bring. By thine own eternal spirit rule in all our hearts alone; by thine all sufficient merit, raise us to thy glorious throne.
“Celtic Worship” is an authentic expression of sung worship deeply rooted in the sound and traditions of Scottish music. As a collective of some of Scotland’s finest contemporary musicians, they share a deep desire to use their skills and giftings to praise and make known Jesus Christ. Exploring psalms, hymns and new songs, their uniquely powerful pipes-and-fiddle-led sound communicates the full range and depth of the Gospel (from their website).
Holy Spirit of God, you guide believers along the path of history. We thank you for inspiring the Symbols of Faith and for stirring in our hearts the joy of professing our salvation in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, consubstantial with the Father. Without him, we can do nothing. Eternal Spirit of God, rejuvenate the faith of the Church from age to age. Help us to deepen it and to return always to the essentials in order to proclaim it. So that our witness in the world may not be futile, come, Holy Spirit, with your fire of grace, to revive our faith, to enkindle us with hope, to inflame us with charity. Come, divine Comforter, source of harmony, unite the hearts and minds of believers. Come and grant us to taste the beauty of communion. Come, Love of the Father and the Son, gather us into the one flock of Christ. Show us the ways to follow, so that with your wisdom, we become once again what we are in Christ: one, so that the world may believe. Amen.
Excerpt from Pope Leo’s Apostolic Letter, In Unitate Fidei, commemorating the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea, November 2025. I included a link to the full letter in my introduction this week.
Faithful Conversation 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!
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK:
1. How does understanding Isaiah’s prophecy in its original 8th-century BCE context — with Judah under Assyrian threat and hopes tied to King Hezekiah — change the way we as Christians interpret it through the lens of Jesus?
2. Isaiah’s vision of wolves dwelling with lambs and children safe among wild creatures symbolized a radical reversal of fear and violence. What might it look like for us today to embody that same vision of reconciliation and peace in a world still fractured by division?
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.
Reflections On Malawi: Part 2
Pastor Jenny Hatleli
Since 1999, the Northwest Synod of Wisconsin and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Malawi have been companions in ministry. Recently, several NW Synod representatives, including Pastor Jen Hatleli and Patti Whitworth from ELC, traveled there and met with many of our partners in the region. During Advent, I am posting excerpts from my interview with her about the trip. In our second exchange, she comments on how worship in Malawi challenged or deepened her understanding of faith.
“Every culture is anchored in shared stories. They are the glue that binds people to their traditions, landscapes, and ancestors, carrying history and values across generations. Origin myths, religious texts, folk tales, and national narratives serve as collective memory, shaping how communities understand the past and orient themselves toward the future.” (Richard L. Lechowick)
Richard Lechowick’s reflection on shared stories and collective memory articulates my reverence for the rhythm of the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL). This three-year journey through Scripture — embraced by many within the **catholic (see note below) Christian community — continues to shape worship and spiritual formation with its steady cadence of readings. The lectionary draws on two forces that form us at the deepest level: story and repetition. I grew up in the orbit of a storyteller — my father — who taught me to see the world through narrative. That lens still directs my teaching and mentoring, because story does more than entertain; it interprets our lives and reveals meaning in the ordinary. Each week, the RCL thrusts us into the greatest story ever told: the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We do not stand outside that story; we live inside it. Through repetition, the lectionary compels us to revisit this story from fresh angles each year. Its three-year cycle sweeps us across the breadth of Scripture, reminding us that faith grows from memory and renews itself in retelling. Story anchors us in the past, but it also illuminates the present, helping us discern who we are and how we belong to God’s unfolding narrative.
Thanks for your visit to this space again this week! There are several commemorations on the ELCA calendar this week, including three pastors from the Lutheran tradition on 24 November: Justus Falckner (1672-1723), Jehu Jones, Jr. (1786-1852), and William Passavant (1821-1894). Each has a compelling story, if you are interested to learn more. As with so many of those we commemorate, I had never heard of these three prior to now. (You will find all the commemorations on pages 14-17 in the front portion of the ELW).
Justus Falckner (1672-1723) became the first Lutheran and Protestant pastor ordained in what would become the United States. He preached, wrote hymns, and carried the Lutheran faith into the new land as a missionary.
Born into slavery, Jehu Jones Jr. (1786–1852) established one of the first African-American Lutheran congregations in the nation. He advanced the Lutheran presence by linking faith with social action, working tirelessly to improve the welfare of African Americans.
William Passavant (1821–1894) expanded Lutheranism’s reach by introducing the Lutheran Deaconess movement to the United States. Through this effort, he rooted Lutheran identity in service, creating institutions of care and social ministry that shaped American Lutheran life.
My reflections this week will center on the Isaiah reading. I’m also including a haunting Advent hymn, a prayer from this year’s Advent Devotional (ELCA), and the first installment of a conversation with Pastor Jen Hatleli reflecting on her recent travels to Malawi, Africa.
** My deliberate use of the word “catholic” in my introduction stems from a discussion within our Lectionary group on Sunday. The Inter-Lutheran Commission on Worship began using “catholic” instead of “Christian” in the Apostles’ Creed with the publication of the Lutheran Book of Worship in 1978. This change restored the original wording of the ancient creeds, where catholic meant universal rather than Roman Catholic. For centuries, many Protestant churches had substituted Christian to avoid confusion, but the ELCA chose to reclaim the historic language. By doing so, the church emphasized continuity with the early church and the ecumenical nature of the creeds. Today, the wording reminds worshippers that they belong to the one universal body of Christ, rooted in memory and renewed in retelling.
** 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 First Sunday of Advent readings share a common call to wakefulness, hope, and holy anticipation. Isaiah envisions a future of peace where nations stream to the mountain of the Lord, while Psalm 122 invites us to rejoice in the promise of Jerusalem’s peace and unity. Paul urges believers to awaken from spiritual slumber and cast off the works of darkness, living honorably in the light of Christ. Jesus, in Matthew’s Gospel, warns of the unexpected hour of his coming, calling us to stay alert and ready for the inbreaking of God’s kingdom.
“Describe the common themes among the readings for 1 Advent.” Copilot, 19 November 2025, Copilot website.
A Strategy for the Readings
The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages. This is something my son Jake shared with me while attending West Point in the early 2000s (a history class), and I have used it with my students ever since. Give it a try this week!
What is something NEW you learned?
What is something that made you REFLECT?
What is something that RELATES to prior knowledge?
What is something you would like to further DISCUSS?
Focus Passage: Isaiah 2: 1-5
2 The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.
2 In days to come the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains and shall be raised above the hills; all the nations shall stream to it. 3 Many peoples shall come and say, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” For out of Zion shall go forth instruction and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. 4 He shall judge between the nations and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they learn war any more. 5 O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!
Isaiah by Michelangelo (1475-1564)
Reflections: Isaiah and Jesus: Prophecy and Fulfillment
Mosaic of the prophet Isaiah (Venice)
Luther Seminary Professor Frederick Gaiser calls Isaiah “the longest and perhaps most important of the prophetic books, offering the full range of God’s prophetic message: terrifying words of judgment and comforting words of promise.” He’s right—Isaiah is not for the faint of heart.
Here’s some backstory. Isaiah, son of Amoz, lived in Jerusalem in the 8th century BCE and carried out his ministry in a time of political upheaval. He confronted kings head‑on, warning them against idolatry, injustice, and dependence on foreign powers as Assyria rose to dominance. His call came through a dramatic temple vision, and his message fused sharp judgment with enduring hope. Later generations expanded his legacy, weaving in words from the Babylonian exile and the return from captivity. Scholars divide the book into three movements: First Isaiah (1–39), addressing Assyrian threats; Second Isaiah (40–55), offering comfort and the Servant Songs during exile; and Third Isaiah (56–66), reflecting on rebuilding community and worship. Isaiah spoke with urgency in his own time, and his vision of justice and peace still shapes faith and history.
Jesus Reads from Isaiah
The Revised Common Lectionary draws heavily on Isaiah—Year A alone includes at least 24 readings, many during Advent. For Christians, Isaiah provides the essential backdrop for understanding the story of Jesus Christ. Recall that in the synagogue at Nazareth, Jesus read from Isaiah:“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (Isaiah 61:1–2; Luke 4:18–19). By choosing this passage, Jesus announced that Isaiah’s vision had come to life in him. Isaiah spoke of a servant who would bring good news, heal the broken, and shine light into darkness. Jesus claimed that mission and embodied it in his ministry. For Christians, this connection strikes at the heart of Advent: God’s promises echo through Isaiah and find their fulfillment in Christ, the one who brings freedom, healing, and hope.
The first of the Isaiah readings — 2:1–5 — speaks with urgency and hope. The prophet envisions the mountain of the Lord rising above all others, drawing nations together to learn God’s ways and walk in God’s paths. He then delivers a bold image of transformation: weapons hammered into tools for planting and pruning, war exchanged for peace, destruction turned into life. These twin themes — universal invitation and radical peace –summon us to walk in the light of the Lord and embody reconciliation in a fractured world. As Walter Brueggemann reminds us in The Prophetic Imagination, the prophets confront the dominant culture with a sharp alternative— a counter-vision. Isaiah’s vision still cuts through the noise of our age, and his call remains powerfully relevant as we enter Advent in 2025. Let our journey begin.
Soli Deo Gloria!
Advent Music: “Each Winter as the Year Grows Older”
1 Each winter as the year grows older, we each grow older, too. The chill sets in a little colder; the verities we knew seem shaken and untrue.
2 When race and class cry out for treason, when sirens call for war,” they over-shout the voice of reason and scream till we ignore all we held dear before.
3 Yet I believe beyond believing that life can spring from death, that growth can flower from our grieving, that we can catch our breath and turn transfixed by faith.
4 So even as the sun is turning to journey to the north, the living flame, in secret burning, can kindle on the earth and bring God’s love to birth.
5 O Child of ecstasy and sorrows, O Prince of peace and pain, brighten today’s world by tomorrow’s, renew our lives again; Lord Jesus, come and reign.
“Each Winter as the Year Grows Older” is a haunting hymn written in 1969 by William Gay, with music composed by his wife Annabeth McClelland Gay, and later arranged and popularized by liturgical composer Marty Haugen. The text reflects on the passage of time, human struggle, and the hope of Christ’s coming, making it especially fitting for Advent and Epiphany seasons. Its tune, Carol of Hope, carries a somber yet expectant tone that underscores themes of lament and renewal. Haugen’s arrangement, recorded on his Night of Silence album, helped bring the hymn into wider use across Catholic and Protestant congregations, where it continues to resonate as a prayerful meditation on faith, memory, and the promise of God’s love.
A Prayer for 1 Advent
Even when we trip over our good intentions, O God, guide our days this Advent season. Give us confidence and hope in this time of waiting and empower us to carry your message of love to all the world. Amen.
Source: “Devotions for Advent and Christmas, 2025-26.” (Augsburg Fortress).
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!
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK:
1. We’ve all been shaped by stories that get told again and again—family stories, community stories, even songs we grew up with. The Revised Common Lectionary works the same way, pulling us back into the story of Jesus week after week. How have you noticed this rhythm of repeated readings shaping your own faith?
2. Isaiah warned leaders not to put their trust in foreign powers or idols but to return to God’s justice. In our own time—when we lean so heavily on technology, political systems, or economic security—how might we recognize the ways we’ve misplaced our trust? What could that look like, day to day?
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.
Reflections on Malawi
Pastor Jenny Hatleli
Since 1999, the Northwest Synod of Wisconsin and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Malawi have been companions in ministry. Recently, several NW Synod representatives, including Pastor Jen Hatleli and Patti Whitworth from ELC, traveled there and met with many of our partners in the region. During Advent, I will post reflections on that journey from Pastor Jen. In our first exchange, she comments on what most surprised her about the spiritual lives of the communities she visited there.
“Think for a moment how, across the world, someone’s life just changed – irrevocably and permanently – and everything that once was so steady, so reliable, must now find a new way of unfolding.” (John O’Donohue)**
Celtic mystic John O’Donohue’s opening quote reminded me that liminal moments forever fascinate me — those times when we are “here” but will soon be “there” — in a different space. Richard Rohr, Franciscan priest, defines those moments as “any hiatus between stages of life, faith, jobs, loves, or relationships. It is that graced time when we are not certain or in control, when something genuinely new can happen … it is the ultimate teachable space.” As I look back on over four decades of teaching and coaching, it is clear to me that has always been the hook — the opportunity to work with young people in a liminal moment when hope and exciting possibility are “unfolding.” What a great privilege that is.
The Gospel for Christ the King Sunday brings us into the ultimate liminal moment. At Golgotha, Jesus enters the remarkable threshold—suspended between heaven and earth, life and death. Time slows as eternity draws near. Between two criminals, one mocks while the other sees clearly and pleads, “Jesus, remember me.” In that moment, Jesus responds with grace: “Today you will be with me in paradise.”The cross becomes a doorway, not just to death, but to redemption. Here, God meets us in our suffering, not from above but within it, offering not just forgiveness, but presence. This liminal moment reveals the heart of the gospel—mercy at the edge of death, hope rising in the shadow of despair. It makes perfect sense to me that the authors of the Lectionary would choose this moment for the final Sunday in our church year.
The Liturgical Calendar
Thanks for your visit here again this week! As mentioned, we mark the end of the Lectionary cycle (Year C) during these late days of November. Christ the King Sunday was established by Pope Pius XI in 1925 as a response to the chaos of post–World War I Europe, where secularism, fascism, and communism were on the rise; the Pope’s encyclical Quas Primas proclaimed Christ’s reign as a source of peace, justice, and unity beyond political power — a timeless affirmation. Originally observed in October, Pope Paul VI moved the feast to the final Sunday of the liturgical year in 1969 to highlight Christ’s cosmic sovereignty (in line with changes brought by the Second Vatican Council). In the 1980s and 1990s, many Protestant churches—including the ELCA after its 1988 formation—adopted Christ the King Sunday through the Revised Common Lectionary, which placed it just before Advent. This shift marked a move toward greater ecumenical unity and theological emphasis on Christ’s reign as the culmination of the church’s annual journey. My reflections this week will focus on the Colossians passage, with a musical offering inspired by the Gospel, and a contemporary prayer of confession written for Christ the King Sunday.
** 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 Christ the King Sunday proclaim a vision of divine kingship rooted in justice, mercy, and cosmic reconciliation. Jeremiah foretells a righteous king who will gather and shepherd the scattered, embodying wisdom and justice. Psalm 46 declares God as a steadfast refuge amid chaos, while Colossians exalts Christ as the cosmic center—through whom all things were created and reconciled. In Luke’s Gospel, Christ reigns paradoxically from the cross, offering forgiveness and welcoming the repentant thief into paradise, revealing a kingdom founded not on domination but on sacrificial love.
“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 23.” Copilot, 13 November 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.
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.
Focus Passage: Colossians 1: 11-20
11 May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, so that you may have all endurance and patience, joyfully 12 giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light.13 He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, 16 for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. 19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20 and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.
Saint Paul Rembrandt (1606-1669)
Check out this overview of Colossians from the Bible Project!
Reflection: “Christ in All: A Colossian Prelude to Advent”
Ancient Turkey
A fascinating window into the world of the first-generation Christians, Colossians was written by the Apostle Paul (or a disciple of his) in c. 60–62 CE during his imprisonment in Rome, addressing a young church in Colossae facing theological confusion and turmoil.
Traders and travelers shaped Colossae — a small city in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey) — into a diverse hub, blending pagan beliefs, Jewish legalism, and emerging mystical philosophies. Though Paul had not personally visited the Colossae Christians, he was responding to reports from Epaphras, a local leader and companion of Paul’s, who warned of false teachings — later termed the Colossian Heresy — that threatened the community’s understanding of Christ. (Sidebar: Epaphras is mentioned three times in the New Testament: Colossians 1:7-8, 4: 12-13, and Philemon 1:23 and is an intriguing character in his own right).
Paul writing from Prison (A.I. generated)
This week’s reading from the first portion of the letter is a remarkable passage that stopped me in my tracks — and is entirely fitting for Christ the King Sunday. In verses 11-14 Paul urges the Colossians to draw strength from God’s glorious power so they can endure with patience and joy. He calls them to live in gratitude, knowing God has qualified them to share in the inheritance of the saints. God has rescued them from the grip of darkness and placed them firmly in the kingdom of his beloved Son. In Christ, they don’t just find comfort—they receive full redemption and the radical forgiveness of sins. This truth anchors their identity and equips them to stand firm against every false teaching (the Colossian heresy). Good words for us to hear this week.
And then we arrive at this extraordinary piece of prose from the pen of Paul — verses 15-20. As noted by New Testament scholar Jennifer S. Wyant in her 2022 commentary on this passage, “These verses contain some of the highest Christology in the whole New Testament.” Think of Christology as the study of Christ’s divine and human nature, along with an exploration of how he reveals God, fulfills the role of Savior, and reconciles creation through his life, death and resurrection. Biblical scholars, in fact, assert that these verses contain an early creedal statement voiced by first-generation Christians, and provide a window into the evolution into their understanding of Christ’s identity. Can we possibly improve on it?
Face of Christ Claude Mellon, 1649
Finally, Wyant makes an important observation as to WHY these words from more than two thousand years ago instruct and inspire us in 2025 — that is, Paul’s near rhythmic use of the word ALL within the nine verses (I marked them in the passage above). This “creates a deep sense of confidence in who Christ is,” she says. “Nothing is outside of Christ. There is no situation that the Colossians might face that Christ is not already there . . . And so over and over again, we see Paul assure this congregation: Christ is in all. All has been forgiven. All will be well. Forever.” Sit with those words for a few minutes. What a beautiful close to our Lectionary readings for this church year — good words for us to carry into Advent! We have arrived at a liminal moment.
Soli Deo Gloria!
As noted above, I am indebted to Jennifer Wyant for her analysis of Colossians 1: 11-20. You may read that in full at here. Her commentary is among those found at the Working Preacher site sponsored by Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN.
A Musical Connection: “Jesus Remember Me”
“Jesus, Remember Me” emerged from the Taizé Community in France, an ecumenical monastic movement founded by Brother Roger to promote reconciliation and peace. Composed by Jacques Berthier in 1978, the chant reflects Taizé’s commitment to simple, meditative prayer that transcends language and denomination. Its text—drawn from the words of the penitent thief in Luke 23:42 — embodies the community’s focus on mercy, humility, and hope. Designed for repetition, the chant invites worshippers into a shared contemplative silence, often sung in candlelit gatherings. As with many Taizé songs, it fosters unity through music that is both accessible and spiritually profound.
The chant “Jesus, Remember Me” by Jacques Berthier is known for its simplicity and meditative repetition. The lyrics are:
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
This line is sung repeatedly, often in a Taizé-style prayer setting, allowing worshippers to enter a contemplative rhythm.
A Prayer of Confession for Christ the King Sunday
Jesus said, “My realm is not of this world.”
And yet, we confess, sometimes we still get seduced by the values of empire: wealth and power and glory.
Loving God, you see us as we are. You know our secret battles and all the ways in which we fail to live out your call upon our lives.
Never give up on us, God. Use us, even in our brokenness. Forgive us and renew us. Help us to enthrone you in our lives. Amen.
Source: Confession for Christ the King Sunday by Cara Heafy, an ordained Minister in the United Reformed Church, UK.
Jesus Statue in Świebodzin, Western Poland
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!
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK (and anything else you care to discuss from the readings):
1. How does Paul’s repeated use of the word “all” in Colossians 1:11–20 shape our understanding of Christ’s cosmic role and presence in everyday life?
2. Why is a high Christology—emphasizing Christ’s divinity, creative power, and reconciling work—essential for grounding Christian identity, especially in times of transition like Advent?
3. In what ways does the cultural and religious diversity of Colossae mirror the complexities of our own communities today—and how might Paul’s message guide us through theological confusion or competing worldviews?
One more thing . . . .
Check out this story from the Lutheran World Federation regarding the Lutheran Church in Myanmar.
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.
“It appears to me as if the world itself were approaching its end and, as the Psalmist says, is waxing old. … So there is nothing to hope for, except the day of our great God.”(Martin Luther, 1544)
This week’s lectionary readings—especially Jesus’ bold affirmation that God is “not of the dead, but of the living,” and Paul’s steadying words to the Thessalonians—draw us into the deep waters of eschatology, that rich and unsettling branch of theology that ponders the ending days. Martin Luther, like many before and after him, felt the tremors of history and believed Christ’s return was near. In fact, in the late 1520s, as the Ottoman Empire pressed into Europe, he feared he might not even finish translating the Old Testament before the world unraveled! This foreboding seemed to stay with him for his remaining years, as noted in the opening quote. I remember my own brush with apocalyptic awareness: eighth grade, 1970, a classroom moment when I learned the U.S. had over 30,000 nuclear weapons—enough to erase the Soviet Union several times over, and they could do the same to us (I remember thinking, “why do we need to be able to destroy them many times?”). Today, the specter of Artificial Intelligence has taken up residence in our cultural imagination, whispering new versions of the old fear: that we may be the architects of our own undoing. As always, there is much to fear in our stormy times!
Many who are reading this were born and raised in the Lutheran tradition. The ELCA — our particular branch of this tradition — invites us to live with bold hope, trusting that Christ’s resurrection is not just a past event but the heartbeat of God’s future for the world. Instead of fear or speculation, we’re called to see the end as a horizon of justice, peace, and renewal—where God’s promises come alive. Scripture’s visions of the last things aren’t blueprints to decode but poetic truths that shape how we walk through uncertainty with courage. This eschatology doesn’t pull us away from the world—it sends us into it, grounded in grace and ready to embody the reign that’s already breaking in. It’s a lot to think about.
San Martin de Porres (1579-1839)
Thanks for your visit to this space again this week! Your interest in using the Revised Common Lectionary as a means of exploring scripture inspires me. And notably, November has been deemed Global Bible Month by three leading Bible Apps, including YouVersion which many of us are using with our Bible 365 Challenge. We have three Sundays remaining in Year C (through 23 November) and this week, among others, we commemorate Martin de Porres, renewer of society, who died on 3 November 1639. His story is powerful. And, as I’m writing this, I’m reflecting on a tremendous worship experience that we shared on Sunday with the Ho-Chunk UCC, Little Norway, and Spirit Creek. It is truly humbling and empowering to use the language of faith as a means of healing centuries of brokenness with our Indigenous brothers and sisters! Thanks to all involved!
My reflections this week will focus on the 2 Thessalonians passage, continuing the theme of our view of the final days.
** 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 22 share a deep longing for resurrection, justice, and divine presence amid suffering and uncertainty. Job declares hope in a living Redeemer, while the psalmist seeks refuge in God’s face and protection from harm. Paul urges steadfastness in the face of confusion about the end times, and Jesus affirms that God is the God of the living, not the dead. Together, these texts invite believers to trust in a future shaped by divine faithfulness, even when the present feels fractured or unclear.
“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 22.” Copilot, 1 November 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.
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.
Focus Passage: 2 Thessalonians 2: 1-5, 13-17
Concerning the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our being gathered to him, we ask you, brothers and sisters, 2 not to become easily unsettled or alarmed by the teaching allegedly from us—whether by a prophecy or by word of mouth or by letter—asserting that the day of the Lord has already come. 3 Don’t let anyone deceive you in any way, for that day will not come until the rebellion occurs and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the man doomed to destruction. 4 He will oppose and will exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshiped, so that he sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God. 5 Don’t you remember that when I was with you I used to tell you these things?
13 But we ought always to thank God for you, brothers and sisters loved by the Lord, because God chose you as firstfruits to be saved through the sanctifying work of the Spirit and through belief in the truth. 14 He called you to this through our gospel, that you might share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. 15 So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the teachings we passed on to you, whether by word of mouth or by letter. 16 May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, 17 encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word.
Reflection: “Echoes from the Via Egnatia”
Paul’s Second Missionary Journey, 49 CE
Thessalonica was a thriving port city in Macedonia, strategically located along the Via Egnatia—the major Roman road linking east and west—which made it a hub of commerce, culture, and political influence. As a Roman provincial capital with a diverse population of Greeks, Romans, and Jews, it was an ideal place for Paul to plant a church during his second missionary journey (49-52 CE). He preached in the synagogue for three Sabbaths, and despite facing opposition, his message took root among both Jews and Gentiles. Forced to leave prematurely, Paul later wrote 1 and 2 Thessalonians while in Corinth (50-51 CE) to encourage the fledgling community, clarify teachings about Christ’s return, and strengthen their faith amid persecution. (Sidebar: Paul’s authorship of 2 Thessalonians is disputed and it could have been written by one of his co-workers, Timothy or Silvanus). The city’s vibrancy and volatility made it a powerful setting for Paul’s eschatological reflections and pastoral care.
As pointed out in the Lutheran Study Bible, a good framework for understanding the correspondence between Paul and the Thessalonian believers is to realize that in his absence, three questions seemed to be swirling and remain relevant in 2025: “Can we trust this guy? If God is truly Lord of all, why are we who worship this God still suffering? Why is Christ’s return taking so long, and what will happen to those who die before he comes?”(LSB, page 1842). That third question seems to be at the center of 2 Thessalonians.
Via Egnatia (Roman Road utilized by Paul)
In 2 Thessalonians 2:1–5, Paul urges believers not to be shaken or alarmed by claims that the Day of the Lord has already come. He explains that certain events—like the rebellion and the revealing of the “man of lawlessness”—must happen first and reminds them that he had already taught them this. Then, in verses 13–17, Paul shifts to encouragement, thanking God for choosing them for salvation through the Spirit and truth. He calls them to stand firm, hold fast to his teachings, and be strengthened in every good word and deed, offering comfort and hope in the face of confusion and fear.
What should we take away from this portion of the letter? First, it is clear that we should not be shaken by false claims about the timing of Christ’s return. The author suggests that certain events (a rebellion, a revelation of a “man of lawlessness,” both rather vague and applicable to many situations!) must precede the Day of the Lord. People have twisted themselves into knots over these kinds of predictions throughout history, and we can get caught up in that as well. Second, the author reminds the community that they are chosen by God and called through the gospel to share in Christ’s glory, affirming their identity and purpose. As spiritual descendants, this is WHO we are and WHY we are! Rather than spending our time fretting over the end times, a healthier approach to life is to do what we can right here and right now — a practical approach to justice. Action is a great counter to anxiety about the future. Finally, there are great words of encouragement for believers in the final verses — one of many pep talks we find in Paul’s letters — check out Romans 8:18, 2 Corinthians 4:17, 1 Thessalonians 4: 13-18, and Galatians 6:9 if you need a lift today!
Soli Deo Gloria!
A Musical Connection: The End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
While preparing this week’s blog, I stumbled on a commentary on the passage from 2 Thessalonians by Nijay Gupta. In it, he referenced R.E.M.’s It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine), a 1987 offering that feels like a snapshot of late-1980s chaos—fast, fragmented, and overloaded with pop culture. Hearing the song took me back to that period and my students from those days. The lyrics come at you fast and the ironic “I feel fine” tag line offers a sense of “shrug” in the face of a world that seems to be coming apart. I post it here as an example of the post-modern angst that many seem to feel in our own time — and is played out in so many ways.
R.E.M. emerged from Athens, Georgia in the early 1980s and quickly became one of the defining bands of alternative rock. Known for their jangly guitar sound, cryptic lyrics, and Michael Stipe’s distinctive voice, they blended post-punk energy with Southern introspection. Their early albums like Murmur and Reckoning built a cult following, while later releases such as Out of Time and Automatic for the People brought mainstream success with hits like “Losing My Religion.” R.E.M.’s music often wrestled with themes of identity, politics, and existential angst, making them both a voice of their generation and a bridge between underground authenticity and global influence.
(Information garnered from Co-Pilot, 1 November 2025)
Prayer Reflection: Merton’s “Prayer of Trust”
Thomas Merton’s Prayer of Trust is included in his 1956 book, Thoughts In Solitude, and is a heartfelt confession that he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he’s trying to follow God anyway. It’s honest, raw, and speaks to that deep uncertainty so many of us feel in a world that often seems disconnected and chaotic. In the postmodern era, where truth feels slippery and meaning gets drowned out by noise, Merton’s words remind us that even the desire to please God is enough. His prayer offers a kind of spiritual anchor—a quiet trust that cuts through the confusion and says, “You’re not alone in this.” I offer it as a counter to the sentiments expressed in the R.E.M. song.
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore, will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. Amen.
Thomas Merton (1915-1968)
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 the Gospel reading for Sunday (Luke 20: 27-38) alongside the Second Reading from 2 Thessalonians — why are they offered together in the RCL readings for Sunday?
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.
“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.
Common Themes Among the Readings
All Saints Readings
Daniel 7: 1-3, 15-18 Psalm 149 Ephesians 1: 11-23 Luke 6: 20-31
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.
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.
Focus Passage: Luke 6: 20-31
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)
Reflection: Grace and Grit and the Courage to Love
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!
A Musical Connection: Let My Love Be Heard (Jake Runestad)
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.
Prayer Reflection: Remembering Those We Carry With Us
“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.
Source: “God of the generations” by Jan Richardson, in “Inspired: On the Feast of All Saints,” The Painted Prayerbook (Oct. 29, 2011); originally published in Jan Richardson, In Wisdom’s Path: Discovering the Sacred in Every Season (Orlando: Wanton Gospeller, 2012)
The Forerunners of Christ With Saints and Martyrs by Fra Angelico (circa 1395–1455)
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. 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?
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.
“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.
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.
Focus Passages: Jeremiah, Romans, and John
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.
Romans 3: 19-28
19 Now we know that, whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world may be held accountable to God. 20 For no human will be justified before him by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin. 21 But now, apart from the law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed and is attested by the Law and the Prophets, 22 the righteousness of God through the faith of Jesus Christ[a] for all who believe. For there is no distinction, 23 since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; 24 they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, 25 whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to demonstrate his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; 26 it was to demonstrate at the present time his own righteousness, so that he is righteous and he justifies the one who has the faith of Jesus. 27 Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. Through what kind of law? That of works? No, rather through the law of faith. 28 For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law.
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.
Reflection: “Renewal Grounded in Tradition”
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).
A Musical Connection: “Lord Keep Us Steadfast in Your Word”
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.
Prayer Reflection: Luther’s Morning Prayer
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
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. 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?
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.
“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)
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 and Katie Luther Engaged in Bible Study (A.I. Generated, 2025)
Alternate First Reading: Jeremiah 29: 1, 4-7
29 These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon.
4 Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: 5 Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. 6 Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. 7 But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare.
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.“
A Musical Offering: Prayer of the Children (Kurt Bestor)
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.
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
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. Why did Jeremiah instruct the captive Israelites (verses 4-7) in the manner he did?
2. What does the Samaritan’s gratitude teach us about recognizing grace in unexpected places—and voices? Who are the “foreigners” in your life whose faith or insight has challenged you to see more clearly?
📖 THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365 READING CHALLENGE:
Monday 6 October: Genesis 25-28 and Psalm 8 Tuesday 7 October: Genesis 29-31 and Psalm 9 Wednesday 8 October: Genesis 32-34 and Psalm 10 Thursday 9 October: Genesis 35-37 and Psalm 11 Friday 10 October: Genesis 38-40 and Psalm 12 Saturday 11 October: Genesis 41-42 and Psalm 13 Sunday 12 October: 43-45 and Psalm 14
