Two Worlds: Pentecost 23 (All Saints Day): 1 November 2026 (Edition 192)

Two Worlds is a digital ministry space that shares the RCL readings, a brief homily, and supporting images, music, and ELCA commemorations. The blog is authored by Paul Rykken in consultation with Pastor Jen Hatleli of Evangelical Lutheran Church in Black River Falls, Wisconsin (ELCA). The blog lands more naturally on a larger screen. Also, hyperlinks are included for further information — they are bolded and italicized.

Evelyn Underhill (1875-1941)

“We are the agents of the Creative Spirit in this world. Real advance in the spiritual life, then, means accepting this vocation with all it involves. Not merely turning over the pages of an engineering magazine and enjoying the pictures, but putting on overalls and getting on with the job. The real spiritual life must be horizontal as well as vertical; spread more and more as well as aspire more and more.”

From The Spiritual Life (2013)

Common Themes/ Connections

The readings for All Saints Day trace a single arc of hope grounded in God’s claim on a people who are both comforted in the present and promised a transformed future. Revelation offers a vision of a countless, multi‑ethnic multitude gathered in God’s presence, their suffering ended and their identity secured. Psalm 34 echoes that assurance by portraying God as the one who hears, delivers, and shelters the righteous in every trouble. First John deepens the theme by naming believers as God’s children now, even as they await the fuller revelation of what they will become. In Matthew’s Beatitudes, Jesus blesses the poor, the grieving, and the persecuted, declaring that God’s favor rests precisely on those who seem least powerful. Together, these texts affirm that the saints –past, present, and future — are defined not by perfection but by God’s steadfast care, their hope rooted in a promised joy that outlasts every trial.


“John Writing Revelation”
Italian Artist Carlo Dolci (1616-1686)

This painting shows Saint John the Evangelist in the act of writing the Book of Revelation after receiving a vision from God. Carlo Dolci captures the moment with great emotion, showing John looking upward in awe and inspiration as he records what he sees. The painting’s calm beauty, rich colors, and fine detail draw the viewer into a quiet moment of reflection and faith. Dolci, a Florentine artist known for his deeply religious subjects, was one of the most admired painters of seventeenth-century Italy. His work was especially valued for its delicate craftsmanship and spiritual intensity, qualities that are clearly evident in this moving portrayal of John receiving divine inspiration.

Title: Simul Justus et Peccator: Both Saint and Sinner

Thorvald M. Rykken
(1897-1945)

In his commentary on Romans, his favorite book of the Bible, Martin Luther articulated one of Lutheranism’s central convictions: in the Christian life, we are both sinner and saint. Writing and lecturing in Latin, Luther expressed it this way: simul justus et peccator; at once righteous and sinner. The readings appointed for this Sunday invite us to return to this bedrock truth. As I read today’s passage from Revelation, especially verses 13-14, I found myself thinking of one of the saints who shaped my own story: my grandfather, Thorvald Melvin Rykken. Let me explain.

Born in 1897 to Norwegian immigrant parents, TM attended Augsburg College in Minneapolis and then Luther Seminary in St. Paul. After his ordination, he spent eleven years as a mission pastor at Bethany Indian Mission in Wittenberg, Wisconsin, ministering among Ho-Chunk, Oneida, Menominee, Mohican, and other Native communities. In 1930, the Rykken family moved to Petersburg, North Dakota, where he served a cluster of parishes until his untimely death in 1945 at the age of forty-eight.

Although he died twelve years before I was born, my grandfather has never been absent from my life. During World War II, my father, Thorwald Ansgar Rykken, lost his role model while serving in the Italian Theater. The news of his father’s death reached him eight days after the funeral. That wound never fully healed. Perhaps because of that loss, he spent years introducing his “Pop” to me and my sisters through stories, photographs, and vivid impressions. Through those stories, I came to know something of the man. He was a maverick. He loved baseball. He laughed loudly and often. He was intensely patriotic, fiercely driven, and deeply committed to his calling. One story surfaced again and again. TM’s favorite poem, my father said, was Vachel Lindsay’s General William Booth Enters Heaven. He often quoted it and returned to it. The poem imagines the founder of the Salvation Army, that unconventional evangelist William Booth, standing at last before Jesus Christ. That glimpse into the imagination of the grandfather I never knew captivated me. Why did this poem matter so much to him? What did he see in Booth’s journey into heaven? The more I wondered, the more fascinated I became. Here is the poem.

I
Booth led boldly with his big bass drum —
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.”
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,
Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,
Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale —
Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail: —
Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath,
Unwashed legions with the ways of Death —
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)

Every slum had sent its half-a-score
The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.)
Every banner that the wide world flies
Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes.
Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang,
Tranced, fanatical they shrieked and sang: —
“Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?”
Hallelujah! It was queer to see
Bull-necked convicts with that land make free.
Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare
On, on upward thro’ the golden air!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)

II

Booth died blind and still by Faith he trod,
Eyes still dazzled by the ways of God.
Booth led boldly, and he looked the chief
Eagle countenance in sharp relief,
Beard a-flying, air of high command
Unabated in that holy land.

Jesus came from out the court-house door,
Stretched his hands above the passing poor.
Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there
Round and round the mighty court-house square.
Then in an instant all that blear review
Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new.
The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled
And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world.

Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole!
Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl!
Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean,
Rulers of empires, and of forests green!

The hosts were sandalled, and their wings were fire!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
But their noise played havoc with the angel-choir.
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
O shout Salvation! It was good to see
Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free.
The banjos rattled and the tambourines
Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens.

And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer
He saw his Master thro’ the flag-filled air.
Christ came gently with a robe and crown
For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down.
He saw King Jesus. They were face to face,
And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place.
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?

William Booth (1829-1912)
Founder of the Salvation Army
Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1913
General William Booth Enters Heaven (A.I. Generated Image, 2026)

What to make of this poem? Clearly inspired by Booth’s recent death (1912), Lindsay anchors his poem in the 7th Chapter of Revelation and the Social Gospel Movement of the early 20th Century. And though written over a century ago, the rhythmic description of Booth and his band of broken souls entering heaven has a modern ring to it. My grandfather’s fascination with it helps me understand what drove him to mission work.

Finally, I suspect most of us have tried to imagine our future journey into the afterlife, the great mystery. The authors of Revelation and 1 John certainly did. Will we meet those saints that have gone before us there, in that place where “God will wipe away every tear” from our eyes . . . “where we will be like him, for we will see him as he is?” This remains our redeeming, liberating, and powerful hope! May we boldly share this message of salvation!

Soli Deo Gloria!

Written in 1864 by Anglican priest and later bishop William Walsham How, For All the Saints was composed as a processional hymn for All Saints’ Day, celebrating the communion of saints across the ages. Rather than focusing only on the great heroes of the faith, the text honors all Christians who have faithfully run the race before us and now rest in God’s care. The hymn gained its enduring popularity when English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams paired it in 1906 with his majestic tune Sine Nomine (“without name”), written for The English Hymnal. The soaring melody, especially its triumphant “Alleluia” refrain, captures the hymn’s central vision: the Church on earth joined with the Church in heaven, all gathered around the victory of Christ. Today, For All the Saints remains one of the most beloved and powerful hymns for All Saints’ Day and Christian funerals alike, proclaiming that the faithful departed still belong to the one communion of saints.

The version offered here differs from the one included in the ELW (hymn 422). Sit back and enjoy this powerful hymn by this young men’s choir from Ghana in Africa.

Founded in 1876 in Cape Coast, Ghana, Mfantsipim School is a historic Methodist boys’ secondary school and is widely recognized as the first secondary school established in what was then the Gold Coast. Guided by a vision of academic excellence and character formation, the school has long played an important role in educating generations of leaders in Ghana and beyond. Commonly known as “Kwabotwe” after the hill on which its campus sits, Mfantsipim combines a strong academic tradition with a commitment to Christian values, service, and personal discipline, making it one of Ghana’s most respected and influential educational institutions.

Visit the School Website Here!

Lyrics

For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
who thee by faith before the world confessed,
thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
thou, Lord, their Captain in the well fought fight;
thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
and win, with them the victor’s crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
we feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
all are one in thee, for all are thine.1
Alleluia, Alleluia!

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave, again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

The golden evening brightens in the west;
soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;
sweet is the calm of paradise the blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
the saints triumphant rise in bright array;
the King of glory passes on his way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

From earth’s wide bounds, from ocean’s farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
and singing to Father, Son and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

We have several commemorations this week. You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW.

Allhallowtide and Reformation Day

Each time we say the Lord’s Prayer and utter the phrase, “Hallowed be Thy Name,” we are referencing a word of Old English origin, meaning “to make holy.” Three days this week, collectively known as Allhallowtide, have deep roots in Christian history: All Hallows’ Eve (commonly referred to as Halloween), All Hallows’ (or All Saints) Day, and All Souls’ Day.

Those of us who share Lutheran heritage, of course, also recognize October 31st as the date in 1517 that Martin Luther posted his famous 95 Theses on that church door in Wittenberg, igniting a discussion that continues 509 years on. Some have long speculated that Luther chose that day because it would catch the attention of the common folk on the eve of All Saints’ Day, a day set aside to pray for those great examples of faith who have journeyed before us to our heavenly home. Though not verifiable, it is certain that Luther, an Augustinian monk, would have been well aware of the 8th Century origins of All Saints’ Day within the Catholic tradition. That said, isn’t it fascinating (and perhaps a bit troubling) that Halloween in 2026 is primarily a secular holiday, an evolution with a long and winding history?  And, is it just me, or has Halloween grown exponentially in recent years, compared to my memories of it from childhood? As often happens, the origins get lost in the mists of time.

Week of 26 October

Monday 26 October
Philipp Nicolai (d. 1608);
Johann Heermann (d. 1647);
Paul Gerhardt (d. 1676; hymnwriters


Wednesday 28 October
SIMON AND JUDE, APOSTLES

Saturday 31 October
REFORMATION DAY

Would you like to brush up on your understanding of Martin Luther and the Protestant Reformation? Join Faithful Conversations for a two-session exploration of this pivotal movement in Christian history and the faith convictions that shaped it. No prior knowledge is necessary. I will lead the sessions on November 1 and November 8 in the ELC church sanctuary. Come learn, ask questions, and engage in thoughtful conversation as we reflect on the legacy of the Reformation and its continuing impact on the church today.

In Letting the Bible Read Us, Jennifer Kaalund argues that the greatest challenge in reading scripture is our tendency to make it support what we already believe rather than allowing it to challenge and transform us. Using examples from Thomas Jefferson, Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth, and Abraham Lincoln, she shows how the Bible can either be manipulated to reinforce personal and national agendas or used as a prophetic voice that exposes hypocrisy, calls for justice, and encourages humility. Her central question is whether we will continue to reshape scripture to fit our preferences or allow scripture to “read” us, revealing our blind spots and inviting us to become more faithful, just, and compassionate people.

Read her full article here!

Two Worlds: Pentecost 22 (Reformation Sunday): 25 October 2026 (Edition 191)

Two Worlds is a digital ministry space that shares the RCL readings, a brief homily, and supporting images, music, and ELCA commemorations. The blog is authored by Paul Rykken in consultation with Pastor Jen Hatleli of Evangelical Lutheran Church in Black River Falls, Wisconsin (ELCA). The blog lands more naturally on a larger screen. Also, hyperlinks are included for further information — they are bolded and italicized.

Bishop Yehiel Curry

ELCA Bishop Curry issued a statement opposing the recent proposal to livestream a U.S. execution, calling it a dangerous distortion of justice that turns human suffering into spectacle. He reaffirms the ELCA’s long-standing opposition to the death penalty, arguing that it deepens cycles of violence, denies the possibility of repentance and restoration, and fails to provide true safety or healing. Rooted in the church’s ministry of reconciliation, he urges congregations to engage in faithful dialogue, study the ELCA’s social statements, and advocate for abolition.

Read his full statement here.

Luther on Bible Reading

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

Martin Luther
(1483-1546)

Common Themes/ Connections

The readings for Reformation Sunday converge on God’s decisive act to create a new covenant grounded not in human achievement but in God’s own faithfulness and mercy. Jeremiah promises a future in which God’s law is written on the heart, while Psalm 46 anchors that promise in the assurance that God alone is our refuge amid every upheaval. Paul’s argument in Romans intensifies this theme by insisting that righteousness comes apart from the law, as a gift of grace received through faith in Christ. In John’s Gospel, Jesus completes the arc by declaring that true freedom is found in abiding in his word, a liberation rooted not in human effort but in the truth he embodies.


Anton von Werner’s Luther Before the Diet of Worms (1877) presents Luther standing firm before imperial authorities, captured in a clear, dramatic moment of conviction. Werner, a leading German history painter of the late 19th century, was known for precise detail and works that shaped national identity in the newly unified German Empire. His rendering of Luther—calm, upright, and resolute—reflects both his academic training and his belief that historical art should teach civic courage. The painting distills the scene into a simple visual message: conscience grounded in the Word stands its ground.

Title: “The Psalm That Held Luther Together”

The Wittenberg Castle Church

509 years ago this month, in October 1517, the Augustinian monk Martin Luther posted his Ninety‑Five Theses on the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, sparking debates that eventually reshaped Western Christianity and set the Protestant Reformation in motion. Brilliant and complicated, Luther translated the Bible into German, wrote tracts and commentaries that fill volumes, and crafted both a Large and Small Catechism to teach the faith to clergy and everyday believers. A gifted musician, he also composed hymns — thirty‑six are attributed to him — including the best known, Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott (“A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”), likely written between 1527 and 1529. Hymnologist John Julian famously called it “The Battle Hymn of the Reformation.”

Luther drew deep strength from the Psalms, which he called the “Bible in miniature.” Psalm 46 became especially dear to him during the harrowing year of 1527, when plague swept through Europe and his own household faced severe strain, including the near death of his son. Reflecting on the psalm’s fierce trust, Luther wrote: “We sing this psalm to the praise of God, because He is with us and powerfully and miraculously preserves and defends His church and His word against all fanatical spirits, against the gates of hell, against the implacable hatred of the devil, and against all the assaults of the world, the flesh, and sin.”

There are many excellent recordings of A Mighty Fortress out there (including a rock version, yes), but the Pacific Lutheran University Choir of the West offers a particularly stirring rendition — fitting, given PLU’s long history as one of the 26 colleges and universities affiliated with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. These schools were founded to unite rigorous learning with Lutheran theological identity, and PLU’s musical tradition reflects that heritage with depth and beauty. Listening to their performance while reading Psalm 46 alongside Luther’s hymn creates a vivid sense of how this text shaped his imagination and fortified his faith.

Lyrics

A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing;
Our helper He, amid the flood of mortal ills prevailing:
For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and pow’r are great, and, armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide, our striving would be losing,
Were not the right Man on our side, the Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be? Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His Name, from age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.

And though this world, with devils filled, should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed His truth to triumph through us;
The Prince of Darkness grim, we tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure, for lo, his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly pow’rs, no thanks to them, abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours through Him Who with us sideth;
Let goods and kindred go, this mortal life also;
The body they may kill: God’s truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever.

“We sing this psalm to the praise of God, because He is with us and powerfully and miraculously preserves and defends His church and His Word against all fanatical spirits, against the gates of hell, against the implacable hatred of the devil, and against all the assaults of the world, the flesh, and sin.”

Martin Luther Reflecting on Psalm 46

The 46th Psalm

1 God is our refuge and strength,
a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear,
though the earth should change,
though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
though the mountains tremble with its tumult. Selah
4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
5 God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
God will help it when the morning dawns.
6 The nations are in an uproar; the kingdoms totter;
he utters his voice; the earth melts.
7 The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah
8 Come, behold the works of the Lord;
see what desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
10 “Be still, and know that I am God!
I am exalted among the nations;
I am exalted in the earth.”
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

We have one commemoration this week. You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW.

Week of 19 October

Friday 23 October
James of Jerusalem, martyr (d. 62)

James of Jerusalem — called James the Just — rose as the early church’s steady center of gravity in Jerusalem, known in the New Testament as “the Lord’s brother,” whether by blood, step‑relation, or kinship. After a post‑resurrection encounter with Jesus, he stepped into leadership with conviction, becoming one of the movement’s “pillars” and guiding the Jerusalem community through its most defining moment: the Council of Jerusalem, where he argued that Gentile believers need not be circumcised while Jewish believers could continue observing the Law. His strict piety, ascetic habits, and deep devotion to Jewish tradition earned him broad respect across Christian and Jewish circles. His martyrdom around 62 CE sealed his legacy as Jerusalem’s first bishop and the crucial bridge between Jesus’ Jewish world and the emerging Christian faith.

Jesus and his brother James
(A.I. generated)

Thomsas Merton on Technology

Thomas Merton (1915-1968)

As artificial intelligence becomes woven into daily life — often without our awareness — we face a spiritual challenge as much as a technological one. I stumbled upon an excellent article recently that explores how Trappist Monk Thomas Merton reflected on the impact of technology in our lives back in the 1960s. Merton warned that modern tools can dull our perception, blunt our sensibilities, and distract us from the deeper currents of the Spirit. Pope Leo echoes this today, reminding us that innovation without justice widens the gap between rich and poor and risks eroding human dignity. Technology can help us, even save lives, but it can also pull us away from the slow, embodied encounters where God speaks: the neighbor in need, the friend in grief, the fragile work of repairing relationships. When machines take over more of our attention, we risk losing touch with the “angelic” — the divine presence that moves between human beings. Good stewardship of AI begins not with fear or fascination but with love: protecting our neighbors, tending our earth, and strengthening the connections made of flesh and dirt. As Merton wrote, we need “angels” to teach us how to live with our machines. Perhaps those guardians are simply us — showing up with integrity, humility, and care.

Read the full article exploring Merton’s views here.

Faithful Conversations

Two Worlds: Pentecost 21: 18 October 2026

Henry Nouwen: Sent by the Community

Henri Nouwen
(1932-1996)

“There are many ways of being a peacemaker. We need to experience our own humble task as part of the Body of Christ and encourage others to accept their task. Whatever it is we do, we need to feel sent by the community rather than working as isolated individuals. And we need to pray for one another, for our common life and for our common task. Such intercessory prayer is a basic to Christian community.”

Navigate the Blog Here

Luther on Bible Reading

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

Common Themes/ Connections

The readings for Pentecost 21 center on God’s sovereign authority and the faithful response it calls forth. Isaiah proclaims that God alone directs the course of history, even working through unexpected figures like Cyrus to accomplish divine purposes. Psalm 96 expands that sovereignty into a cosmic call to worship, inviting all creation to rejoice in the Lord’s righteous rule. In 1 Thessalonians, Paul celebrates a community whose faithful witness flows from God’s power at work in them, while Jesus in Matthew teaches that true allegiance belongs to God, whose claim surpasses every earthly authority.

Mattia Preti’s Tomyris Receiving the Head of Cyrus tells a stark and emotional story with the bold light and shadow that define his Baroque style.

Preti, an Italian painter active in the 1600s, was known for taking dramatic historical moments and giving them a strong visual punch. Here he shows Queen Tomyris receiving the severed head of Cyrus the Great after he attacked her people and caused the death of her son. The way Preti arranges the figures makes Tomyris’s grief and resolve easy to read, even without knowing the full story. The whole scene carries a heavy, somber weight, as if Preti wants us to feel both the cost of Cyrus’s ambition and the strength of Tomyris’s response.

Tomyris Receiving the Head of Cyrus by Preti
(1613-1691)
Herman Larsen
(1915-2003)

Dr. Herman Larsen looked at me over his glasses and said, “It’s always important to contemplate the role of God in human history.” I was sitting in his office — a nervous freshman at Concordia, giving an oral report on a Luther biography. He stopped me cold with that line. Only later did I learn that Larsen — St. Olaf and Yale trained, brilliant, disciplined — had survived three years in a Japanese prison camp during World War II while serving as a missionary in China. He never boasted about it, but he clearly believed God had carried him through. I thought about him again this week while reading Isaiah’s astonishing claim that God would work through Cyrus, a foreign ruler who did not know the Lord, to free Israel and rebuild Jerusalem. (Sidenote: Larsen was an intimidating presence in class and taught me the importance of preparation!).

Ancient Middle East

How did this Persian King’s story intersect with the Jewish people? Cyrus the Great, as he was called, ruled the Persian Empire with a reach unmatched in his day, stretching from modern Iran into Turkey. Scripture names him twenty‑three times and, remarkably, calls him “messiah” — the only non‑Israelite to receive that title. Isaiah insists that God will “grasp his right hand,” break down barriers before him, and use him to set the exiles free. Ezra later records Cyrus’s own decree: God has given him the kingdoms of the earth and charged him to rebuild the temple. In other words, God can work through people who stand far outside the expected circle of faith.

Here are two things we can take from this story. First, Larsen was right: we must reckon with God’s work in history. God acts in ways we cannot predict, often through people we barely notice, to accomplish purposes we scarcely grasp. History in real time feels like a blur, yet that truth has steadied God’s people across generations — including now, as the Middle East endures violence, war, and wounds handed down through generations. Isaiah reminds us that God can raise unexpected leaders and open unlikely moments that bend the world toward justice and peace. We pray such leaders rise in our own day.

Second, Isaiah’s witness steadies us in a fearful time. Even when the world feels dangerous or hopeless, when events spin beyond our control, God surrounds us with steadfast love and calls us to step into that world with courage, grace, and strength — trusting that God still works through surprising people to bring freedom, justice, and hope. The words of Isaiah 58:12 come to mind: we are a people called to mend what is broken and make the world livable again: “you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of the streets to live in.”

Soli Deo Gloria!

Papa Makua

**Note: The Isaiah 58 reference in my last paragraph was sparked by a sermon Wendell Davis preached on Sunday, October 11, during a joint worship service that brought together several congregations — the United Church of Christ parishes from Tomah and the Ho‑Chunk Mission east of Black River Falls, along with the United Methodist and Evangelical Lutheran (ELCA) parishes of Black River Falls. Davis, known as Papa Makua, serves as senior minister of the Association of Hawaiian Evangelical Churches (AHEC), a UCC body that weaves Hawaiian cultural heritage with Christian faith. He and several colleagues from Hawaii have been visiting our area in recent days.

Deep River grew out of the spiritual tradition of enslaved African Americans, who used the Jordan River as a bold symbol of freedom and God’s saving power. The Fisk Jubilee Singers carried the song into wider public life in the late 19th century, and Harry T. Burleigh’s early‑20th‑century arrangements brought it into churches and concert halls. Its plea to “cross over” speaks directly to courage, longing, and trust in God’s presence. Isaiah 45 echoes that hope by proclaiming a God who breaks down barriers and leads people out of captivity, opening a path toward liberation. Psalm 96 adds another layer, calling all creation to sing of God’s justice — a justice that hears the oppressed and promises deliverance, just as the spiritual itself has done for generations.

The version of the song included here comes from the University of North Texas A Capella Choir under the direction of Allen Hightower.

Lyrics

Deep river
My home is over Jordan
Deep river
Lord, I wanna cross over into campground

Oh, don’t you wanna go to that gospel feast?
That promised land where all is peace
Walk into Heaven and take my seat
And cast my crown at Jesus’ feet

Deep river
My home is over Jordan
Deep river
Lord, I wanna cross over into campground

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

We have three commemorations this week. You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW.

Week of 12 October

Thursday 15 October
Teresa of Avila, teacher, renewer of the church (d. 1582)

Saturday 17 October
Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch, martyr (c. 115)

Sunday 18 October
LUKE THE EVANGELIST

Further Information is Linked!

Saint Peter of Alcantara shows Saint Teresa of Ávila the Way to Paradise
by Francesco Fontebasso 1765

Digital Media: The Pivot Podcast

The Pivot Podcast — produced by Faith+Lead at Luther Seminary — helps Christian leaders navigate the real challenges facing congregations today. Each episode blends theological insight with practical wisdom, focusing on how churches can cultivate deeper discipleship, adapt faithfully to cultural change, and strengthen community life. It’s a thoughtful, accessible resource for anyone committed to helping the church grow in clarity, courage, and spiritual maturity.

Their most recent effort centers on DISCIPLESHIP and is excellent! The episode linked below explores why discipleship is challenging in today’s church and argues that everyone is already being shaped — by culture, media, and personal habits — long before they encounter Christian community. The hosts note that churches often rely on information and programs instead of the slow, relational work that actually forms people in faith. They call for a clearer vision of what a mature disciple looks like and for intentional practices that counter the powerful forces shaping people’s identities. Ultimately, the conversation encourages congregations to reclaim discipleship as their central mission and invest deeply in life‑on‑life formation.

ACCESS THE PODCAST HERE

Faithful Conversations

Two Worlds: Pentecost 20: 11 October 2026

Henri Nouwen:
Crises and Power

Henri Nouwen
(1932-1996)

“Every time we see a major crisis in the history of the Church, such as the Great Schism of the eleventh century, the Reformation of the sixteenth century, or the immense secularization of the twentieth century, we always see that a major cause of rupture is the power exercised by those who claim to be followers of the poor and powerless Jesus. What makes the temptation to power so seemingly irresistible? Maybe it is that power offers an easy substitute for the hard task of love. It seems easier to be God than to love God, easier to control people than to love people, easier to own life than to love life.“



Martin Luther
Augustinian Monk

Common Themes and Connections

Isaiah’s vision of God’s decisive rescue sets the tone for a Sunday centered on divine provision, echoed intimately in Psalm 23, where the Lord shepherds, protects, and prepares a table for his people. Paul’s counsel in Philippians 4 urges the community to stand firm in this same trust—rejoicing, rejecting anxiety, and practicing a peace that comes from God’s nearness. Jesus’ parable in Matthew 22 extends the theme by portraying God’s invitation to a banquet of grace, while also warning that genuine participation requires a life shaped by that grace. Together, the readings emphasize God’s faithful initiative, the call to respond with steadfast trust, and the transformative character of those who accept God’s invitation.

Euodia and Syntyche (A.I. generated)

“History must be imagined before it can be understood.” David Blight’s line has stayed with me this week as I revisited Paul’s brief but striking mention of Euodia and Syntyche in Philippians 4:2–3. These two early Christian leaders left no visual record — no portraits, no icons, no descriptions — only their names and the memory of their shared labor in the gospel.

That silence makes imagination essential; it’s the doorway into their world. Though this final AI image feels a bit uncanny, it offers a foothold for picturing Philippi under Roman rule, a diverse Christian community finding its way, and two women whose ministry mattered enough for Paul to address their conflict directly.

As I continue to navigate AI in my current teaching environment, I’m finding that — used carefully — it can help kindle the historical imagination, giving shape to what cannot be recovered and deepening our sense of their place in the unfolding story of the early church.

Saint Paul by
Guercino (1591–1666)

Before getting into this, I must confess that I wanted to tackle the parable from Matthew this week but am still grappling with it — I find it especially challenging! Let me, instead, offer this regarding the Second Reading. Philippians is often associated with JOY, but the context of the letter is critically important. The words were not written in comfort. Paul, in fact, wrote from prison, chained, unsure whether he will live or die. We know the end of the story, but he certainly did not. And he writes to a church under real serious social and economic pressure. Both Paul and the Philippians are being pushed to back away from their proclamation of Christ crucified and risen. His words are forged in the midst of crisis. Sit with that for a moment.

Paul begins with real affection for his Philippian neighbors — “my joy and my crown” (4:1). Their relationship is marked by mutual courage and trust. They have stood with him, and he stands with them. Then Paul turns to the strain within the community. Euodia and Syntyche — two faithful leaders — have been having a dispute of some kind. I am always intrigued by these figures that show up in scripture for what we might describe as “cameo” appearances — we are offered little background and no details about the argument between these women. Paul doesn’t shame them or dictate a solution either. Instead, he calls the community to come alongside them (4:2-3) and reminds every one of the pattern they already know: the mind of Christ described earlier in the letter (2:1-5). A mind that moves from power toward vulnerability, from status toward service.

Paul then offers the Philippian church — and perhaps us — a set of practices for living faithfully in anxious times. Each one is anchored in the text.

“Rejoice in the Lord always” (4:4). Not because everything is fine, but because joy is a discipline that keeps us grounded in God’s presence.

“Let your gentleness be known to everyone” (4:5). Everyone is frayed right now—including you. Gentleness is Christlike strength.

“The Lord is near” (4:5). Not far off, not abstract—near.

“Do not worry about anything, but in everything… let your requests be made known to God” (4:6). Bring your fear and your gratitude together. Honest prayer is the antidote to anxious spiraling.

“And the peace of God… will guard your hearts and your minds” (4:7). A peace that doesn’t depend on circumstances and doesn’t require your understanding.

“Whatever is true… honorable… just… pure… pleasing… commendable… think on these things” (4:8). In an age saturated with negativity, Paul calls for disciplined attention. Look deliberately for what is good. Hold fast to it.

“Keep on doing the things you have learned and received… and the God of peace will be with you” (4:9). Look to the people whose lives embody this way of Christ. Imitate them.

Paul’s world was anything but calm. The early church lived with constant vulnerability — small, pressured, and unsure of its future. The anxieties of early Christians were real, and their witness was costly. In many ways, people today feel the same strain. We live with global instability, political tension, economic uncertainty, and a relentless stream of information that keeps us on edge. Communities of faith feel the weight of division and the challenge of staying hopeful. Paul does not offer easy reassurance. He offers a way of life: joy practiced as discipline, gentleness embraced as strength, prayer shaped by honesty, and attention trained toward what is good. He teaches a posture that refuses to let fear or cynicism set the terms of reality. His world was unstable. Ours is too. Yet his message endures: “The Lord is near.” Because Christ is near, we are not left alone. We are given practices that steady us and a peace that guards us — a peace that surpasses all understanding.

Philippians 4 is not a lullaby. It is a lifeline. A pattern of Christian resilience. A witness that God’s presence is real, God’s peace is strong, and God’s joy can still be chosen — even now. Let’s walk with that message in our hearts this week.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Note: I am indebted to the Reverand Dr. Jane Lancaster Patterson for her interpretation of the Philippians verses. She is a retired Emerita Professor of New Testament, Seminary of the Southwest, Austin Texas — an Episcopal institution. I stumbled on her wonderful writing in Working Preacher, an arm of Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. She offered me a different way of seeing this passage.

Oscar Romero
(1917-1980)

“Let Us Go Now to the Banquet” (ELW 523) grows out of the Misa Popular Salvadoreña, the 1980 folk mass Guillermo Cuéllar composed at the request of Archbishop Óscar Romero, who wanted music that honored El Salvador’s indigenous traditions while speaking honestly to a people suffering under military rule. A member of the Nueva Canción Salvadoreña movement, Cuéllar blended folk melody with political and spiritual hope — a combination that eventually forced him into a decade of exile. When the mass reached North American worship through translations by Bret Hesla and William Dexheimer Pharris, its vision of God’s banquet — where the poor are centered and the table is shared — found new resonance. In many ways, the hymn echoes Psalm 23’s promise of a table prepared in the presence of danger: God’s feast breaking in even when the world feels hostile. Singing it today keeps alive Romero’s conviction that God’s justice creates a community where all are fed and all are welcomed.

Lyrics

Let us go now to the banquet,
to the feast of the universe.
The table’s set and a place is waiting;
come, ev’ryone, with your gifts to share.


I will rise in the early morning;
the community’s waiting for me.
With a spring in my step I’m walking
with my friends and my family. Refrain

God invites all the poor and hungry
to the banquet of justice and good
where the harvest will not be hoarded
so that no one will lack for food.

May we build such a place among us
where all people are equal in love.
God has called us to work together
and to share ev’rything we have.

Note: The original lyrics were in Spanish.

ACCESS THEM HERE!

The Lutheran Deaconess Choir is a long‑standing musical ministry connected to the Lutheran Deaconess Association (LDA), an inter‑Lutheran organization that forms and supports deaconesses and deacons for service in church and world. Historically, the choir emerged from the community life of LDA students and consecrated deaconesses, who gathered regularly to sing as part of their spiritual formation and public witness. Over time, the choir became a signature expression of the LDA’s identity—using music to proclaim the gospel, strengthen communal bonds, and represent the deaconess vocation in congregations and synodical events. While not a professional ensemble, it has served as a musical ambassador for the LDA, embodying the organization’s emphasis on service, compassion, and shared ministry. In this way, the Lutheran Deaconess Choir reflects the heart of the LDA: a community grounded in Word, song, and diaconal service.

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

We have two commemorations this week. You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW.

William Tyndale (c.1494-1536)

William Tyndale was the English reformer who, inspired by Martin Luther’s German Bible, believed passionately that ordinary Christians should read Scripture in their own language. Translating directly from Greek and Hebrew, he produced an English New Testament and large portions of the Old Testament whose clarity shaped every major English Bible that followed, including the King James Version. His work was illegal in England, where church and crown feared that vernacular Scripture would weaken their control of doctrine — and Tyndale’s public opposition to Henry VIII’s divorce made him politically unwelcome as well. After years of exile, he was arrested and executed for heresy in 1536, essentially for translating the Bible without permission. His dying prayer, “Lord, open the King of England’s eyes,” captures the legacy he left: Scripture for the whole people of God.

Lutheran-Catholic Dialogue

Faithful Conversations

Two Worlds: Pentecost 19: 4 October 2026

Luther’s approach to lectio divina grows out of the Augustinian conviction that Scripture is understood only through the illumination of the Holy Spirit, received in humble prayer.

In the monastic tradition, lectio divina developed as a four‑step path — reading, meditation, prayer, and contemplation — aimed at drawing the believer into quiet union with God. Luther retained the early Augustinian emphasis on oratio and meditatio, but he reshaped the practice by replacing contemplatio with tentatio, the spiritual struggle that arises when God’s Word confronts human weakness.

For Luther, this struggle is not a distraction from devotion but the very arena in which the Word becomes alive and formative. His adaptation transforms lectio divina from a contemplative ascent into a cross‑shaped encounter where Scripture, prayer, and trial work together to shape faith.



Common Themes and Connections

Isaiah and the psalmist both use the image of a vineyard to name God’s longing for a people who bear good fruit, and the grief that comes when they do not. Jesus picks up that same vineyard theme in Matthew, sharpening it into a parable about leaders who resist God’s purposes and reject the very One sent to restore them. Paul, meanwhile, reminds us that genuine righteousness doesn’t come from pedigree or achievement but from knowing Christ and pressing on toward the life God intends. Taken together, the readings trace a movement from God’s hope, to human resistance, to the call for a renewed, Christ‑shaped way of living. Pentecost 19 invites us to hear these texts as a summons to bear fruit that reflects God’s justice, mercy, and steadfast love.

“St. Francis” by Cigoli (1559-1613)

St. Francis is shown here in simple, steady prayer — kneeling before a small wooden cross with an open book at his side and the quiet landscape stretching behind him. Instead of dramatizing the stigmata — the tradition that Francis received the wounds of Christ late in life — Cigoli focuses on the kind of everyday devotion that made Francis receptive to grace in the first place.

The artist, Ludovico Cardi (whom we know as Cigoli, after his Tuscan hometown), brings together the clarity of his Florentine training and a warmer Baroque naturalism, especially in the soft modeling of Francis’s face and the gentle light across the hills. It’s a picture of holiness rooted in humility and attentiveness rather than spectacle. As we mark St. Francis on 4 October (Pentecost 19) this year, the painting feels like an invitation to let quiet, faithful practices shape us too.

You can read more about the artist here!

The Face of Jesus (using AI)

Artificial Intelligence has dominated the news lately — not only because of what it can generate, but because of the massive data‑center buildouts now reshaping communities, economies, and landscapes. We’re watching a live debate over power grids, water use, land stewardship, and the cost of feeding these systems. Like most thorny issues, it is complex.

The image beside us — an AI‑generated guess at what Jesus may have looked like based on ancient Middle Eastern features — drops us right into the tension of this moment. It shows how these tools can illuminate something we’ve wondered about for centuries, yet it also reminds us how easily technology can shape, or even distort, what we think we see. And underneath all that, it nudges us back to a very human question: how do we see clearly, make wise sense of the world around us, and stay grounded in the life God has entrusted to us?

Jesus, the master teacher, still speaks across time, and his use of story — often allegory — cuts straight to the heart. In this week’s Gospel, he responds to religious leaders who have just challenged his authority. They bristle at his popularity, his freedom, his refusal to stay within their lines. So he tells a parable that echoes Isaiah 5, exposing the disobedience of those who should know better and the consequences that follow. A landowner plants a vineyard, protects it, and watches it flourish. He leases it to tenants. When he sends servants to collect his share, the tenants kill them. He sends more; they meet the same fate. Finally — naively, it seems — he sends his son, assuming they will respect him. Instead, they murder him to seize the inheritance. It is a brutal story.

Jesus then turns the parable back on his listeners. Beginning in verse 40, he leads the elders into the chilling realization that he is talking about them. His citation of Psalm 118 cuts straight to their scriptural pride, and by verse 46 we glimpse their simmering response.

How do we hear this today? It’s easy to treat the story as a rebuke aimed at ancient leaders who rejected Christ. But that reading is too small. Jesus speaks to us as well. We must examine our own hearts. How do we respond to him? How do we tend the vineyard entrusted to our care — our land, our communities, our choices, our faith?

Soli Deo Gloria!

Chris Martin

The Stellenbosch University Choir is widely regarded as one of the finest collegiate choirs in the world, celebrated for its luminous blend, technical precision, and emotionally charged performances. Founded in 1936, it is the oldest university choir in South Africa, drawing about a hundred students from across the university each year. Under the long‑time direction of André van der Merwe, the ensemble has developed a distinctive sound that weaves classical clarity with the rhythmic vitality and multilingual richness of South African musical traditions. Their artistry has earned them sustained international acclaim, including years at the top of the Interkultur world rankings, and their performances—whether sacred works, folk songs, or contemporary compositions—carry a depth and immediacy that make the choir a powerful cultural ambassador.

Visit Their Website Here!

Lyrics

When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you’re too in love to let it go
But if you never try, you’ll never know
Just what you’re worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I


Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

Saint Jerome by Domenichino
(1581-1641)

Sacred History: Reredos

If you’ve ever wondered about the carved structure behind our altar—or how our sanctuary came to look and feel the way it does—I’ve put together a story you might enjoy. It traces the origins of our reredos, Jacob’s Ladder, and introduces the remarkable people who shaped our worship space: a Marine‑pilot‑turned‑architect, a Scandinavian sculptor with a pastor’s imagination, and the local carpenter who guided the sanctuary’s construction. You’ll also learn the moving story behind the stained‑glass windows dedicated just days before a hometown soldier was laid to rest. It’s a rich, very human history, and it might change the way you see the space we gather in each week.

The Full Paper is Linked Here!

Faithful Conversations

We’ve spent the past year at ELC discerning how best to offer adult study in a way that’s both flexible and consistent, and we’ve settled on a simple rhythm: a weekly gathering called Faithful Conversations, held every Sunday from 11:00 to 11:45 a.m. This dedicated space will offer a rotating mix of opportunities—lectionary discussion, Lutheran theology, spiritual disciplines, and congregational history—open to anyone at any time, with no prior knowledge needed and no pressure to read or share.

To launch this renewed approach, we began a five‑week study of Michael Foss’s Real Faith for Real Life (September 27–October 25), a practical and relevant exploration of Christian discipleship. I will be leading the sessions.

ALL ARE WELCOME!

Two Worlds: Pentecost 18: 27 September 2026

“Life becomes an unbearable burden whenever we lose touch with the presence of a loving Savior and see only hunger to be alleviated, injustice to be addressed, violence to overcome, wars to be stopped, and loneliness to be removed. All these are critical issues and Christians must try to solve them; however, when our concern no longer flows from our personal encounter with the living Christ, we feel an oppressive weight.

Here arises a key question: “Can we see Christ in the world?” The answer is, “No, we cannot see Christ in the world, but only the Christ in us can see Christ in the world.” This means that through prayer the Christ within us opens our eyes to the Christ among us.
“



Common Themes and Connections

The readings for Pentecost 18 converge around the call to genuine repentance expressed through humble obedience and transformed living. Ezekiel insists that each person is responsible before God and that true turning of the heart leads to life rather than blame or fatalism. Psalm 25 echoes this posture, lifting the soul to God in trust and asking to be taught the ways of divine mercy and truth. Philippians deepens the theme by urging the community toward Christ‑like humility—an obedience shaped not by compulsion but by self‑giving love. In Matthew, Jesus exposes the gap between words and actions, teaching that authentic repentance is revealed not in claims of righteousness but in actually doing the will of the Father.

“Driving the Merchants from the Temple”
French artist, Jean Jouvenet (1644–1717)

Jean Jouvenet’s Driving the Merchants from the Temple shows Jesus stepping into a chaotic scene as he clears out the money changers, and you can feel the energy in the way people and animals scatter. Jouvenet was a major French painter of his time, known for strong, naturalistic figures and bold color choices that pull your eye right to the heart of the action. The painting was part of a larger set of religious works he created for Paris churches in the early 1700s, which helped cement his reputation. What stands out here is how he captures both the physical movement and the moral force of the moment. For Pentecost 18, the scene echoes the readings’ call for honest worship and faithful living—God pushing back against the ways we twist faith for our own gain and inviting us to return to what really matters.

509 years ago, a 34‑year‑old Augustinian monk named Martin Luther shook the Christian world when he posted his 95 Theses on the Castle Church door in Wittenberg. His opponents quickly labeled his followers “Lutherans,” and the name stuck, eventually becoming one of the major branches of Protestantism. It’s worth remembering that Luther began his list with a simple but demanding claim: “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said ‘Repent,’ he intended the entire life of believers to be repentance.” That line sets the tone for next Sunday’s readings — think “repentance.”

So, let’s dive in. This week’s “Image of the Week,” is a painting by the French artist Jean Jouvenet titled Driving the Merchants from the Temple. Jouvenet captures Jesus stepping into a swirl of motion as animals scatter, tables overturn, and the merchants scramble — a vivid picture of righteous anger and moral clarity (for some reason, that story so appealed to me when I first learned of it as a young boy!). It’s a helpful doorway into today’s Gospel, because this dramatic cleansing of the temple is the backdrop for Jesus’ tense exchange with the chief priests and elders in Matthew 21. They were rattled by his actions and his growing influence, and they demanded to know by what authority he taught.

Jesus responds with a question of his own and then tells the parable of the two sons — one who refuses to work in the vineyard but later goes, and one who agrees to go but never does. The point is unmistakable: the first son, the one who actually acts, is the one who does the father’s will. Jesus follows with a sharp reversal, telling the religious leaders that tax collectors and prostitutes — people they dismissed — are entering the kingdom ahead of them because they listened, repented, and changed their lives. Their refusal to turn around, to receive God’s messenger, had become a roadblock. Ezekiel’s voice echoes the same call: “Repent and turn from all your transgressions… get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit.”

That’s the heart of this week’s Gospel message. Repentance isn’t a gloomy word—it’s a life‑giving one. It’s the daily turning of the heart, the quiet work of letting God reshape us so that our actions begin to reflect what we say. Every week we bring that work into worship through the confession of sin, speaking words that steady us and open us again to grace. Hear these words from the Book of Common Prayer (1979), that are part of our services in the ELW:

Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us; that we may delight in your will, and walk in your ways, to the glory of your Name. Amen.

Those words matter. They humble us, they ground us, reminding us that faith is not just what we say but how we live. So as we move through Pentecost 18, hold Luther’s first thesis close: the whole life of believers is repentance — turning toward God, receiving a new heart and spirit, and stepping into the vineyard not with perfect words, but with faithful action.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Mary Chapin Carpenter (b. 1958)

Though not explicitly Christian‑oriented music, Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song “Why Walk When You Can Fly” carries a spirit that fits beautifully with the Pentecost 18 readings and their call to turn, trust, and live differently. The song leans into that moment when a person finally lets go of the old weight—fear, stubbornness, self‑protection—and chooses a new path. From there, it opens up a wider reflection on the Christian journey itself: how grace keeps nudging us toward the life we were meant to live, even when we’ve settled for something smaller. Carpenter’s refrain becomes more than a lyric; it becomes a gentle reminder that when we finally trust the One who meets us in our turning, we discover that walking isn’t our only option. We were made to rise.

Mary Chapin Carpenter is an American singer‑songwriter whose music blends folk, country, and Americana with a thoughtful, literary touch. Her warm, steady voice carries songs that often explore resilience, relationships, and the quiet work of becoming fully human. Over the years she has built a devoted following by writing with emotional honesty rather than flash, letting her lyrics do the heavy lifting. Many listeners describe her music as a companion for the long journey — reflective, wise, and grounded in everyday experience.

Visit her website here

Lyrics

In this world, there’s a whole lot of trouble, baby
In this world, there’s a whole lot of pain
In this world, there’s as whole lot of trouble but
A whole lot of ground to gain

Why take when you could be giving?
Why watch as the world goes by?
It’s a hard enough life to be living
Why walk when you can fly?

In this world, there’s a whole lot of sorrow
In this world, there’s a whole lot of shame
In this world, there’s a whole lot of sorrow
And a whole lot of ground to gain

When you spend your whole life wishing
Wanting and wondering why
It’s a long enough life to be living
Why walk when you can fly?

And in this world, there’s a whole lot of golden
In this world, there’s a whole lot of plain
In this world, you’ve a soul for a compass
And a heart for a pair of wings

There’s a star on the far horizon
Rising bright in an azure sky
For the rest of the time that you’re given
Why walk when you can fly high?

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

We have one commemotion this week. You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW.

Commemorations: Week of 21 September

Monday 21 September
MATTHEW, APOSTLE AND EVANGELIST

St. Matthew is traditionally known as a tax collector whom Jesus called to become one of the twelve apostles, a shift that highlights the Gospel’s recurring theme of grace reaching into unlikely places. His background as a publican—someone often viewed with suspicion or disdain—makes his response to Jesus’ invitation all the more striking, embodying the power of repentance and the possibility of a transformed life. Matthew is credited as the author of the first Gospel, a work that emphasizes Jesus as the fulfillment of Israel’s story and underscores the call to faithful discipleship. In Christian art and tradition, he is often depicted with an angel, symbolizing the divine inspiration guiding his writing.

Saint Matthew Inspired by an Angel (Rembrandt, 1661)

The Bible Project is a nonprofit started by Tim Mackie and Jon Collins to help people see how the whole Bible fits together as one big story. Mackie brings the deep scholarship—especially in Hebrew Bible and Jewish studies—while Collins turns those ideas into clear, engaging animations and videos. What began as two friends trying to make Scripture more accessible has grown into a huge library of free videos, podcasts, and reading guides used around the world. Their work helps people read the Bible with fresh eyes, paying attention to its literary design, major themes, and the way it all points toward Jesus. Here is an excellent video overviewing the New Testament.

As we turn the page into September, we’re refreshing our adult education opportunities at ELC as we continue creating spaces where members can explore Scripture and connect faith to daily life.

Our digital ministry—including Two Worlds, the weekly lectionary blog — remains part of that effort.

Beginning on 27 September and following, Sundays from 11:00–11:45 a.m. will be dedicated to Faithful Conversations, a renewed rhythm of study shaped by three strands: Lutheran Theology, History, and Spiritual Disciplines.

We will begin with a four‑week book study of Real Faith for Real Life (27 September–18 October).

If you are interested in ordering the book for our first go-round, follow the link below. We will also have several copies available. We will revisit a study the book from three years ago — it remains remarkably relevant.

ORDER YOUR COPY HERE!

Two Worlds: Pentecost 16: 13 September 2026

WTC Tribute in Light, New York: 11 September 2010

Navigate the Blog

Christina Ray Stanton is a New York City author, veteran tour guide, and nonprofit founder whose work grows out of firsthand experience with major crises. A Florida native who settled in Manhattan in 1993, she became known for her award‑winning memoir Out of the Shadow of 9/11, recounting her evacuation from her home near Ground Zero. She later wrote about surviving COVID‑19, continuing her focus on resilience and faith. Her essays appear in national outlets and often highlight overlooked stories in New York’s history and humanitarian work.

Read her article about the impact 9-11 had on her faith journey.



Common Themes and Connections

The readings for Pentecost 16 draw us into the costly, grace‑filled work of forgiveness. Joseph’s mercy toward his brothers, the psalmist’s portrait of God’s compassion, and Paul’s call to refrain from judging one another all press the community toward a posture shaped by God’s own generosity. Jesus’ parable in Matthew exposes how quickly we forget the mercy we’ve received and how urgently we are called to extend it. Together, these texts remind us that forgiven people are meant to become forgiving people.

“The Unforgiving Servant” 1629 (French)
Claude Vignon (1593–1670)

Claude Vignon’s The Unforgiving Servant (1629) shows why he remains one of the most eclectic voices in the French Baroque. His quick, restless brushwork pushes the moment toward us, giving the confrontation an almost urgent immediacy. That urgency fits this week’s lectionary, where forgiveness isn’t an abstract virtue but a lived demand. Vignon’s scene makes the parable feel present tense—a reminder that mercy can evaporate in an instant and that the fallout of withholding it is never small. Born in Tours in 1593, Vignon built his reputation on speed, range, and a willingness to mix styles others kept separate. He traveled widely, worked across genres, and returned to France as one of the most prolific painters of Louis XIII’s era. When he died in Paris in 1670, he left behind a vast body of paintings that still feel energetic and unpredictable.

Thomas Cranmer,
Archbishop of Canterbury
(1489 – 1556)

We pray the Lord’s Prayer every Sunday — sometimes so often we forget how strange and bold it really is. Our familiar (traditional) version — “trespasses” and all — actually comes from the 1549 Book of Common Prayer, not directly from Matthew 6 or Luke 11. That explains the occasional worship‑committee debates over whether we should be praying about debts or trespasses — turns out we’re mostly arguing with Thomas Cranmer, not the Gospel writers. Still, the heart of the prayer remains the same: we ask for daily bread, mercy, and protection from the turmoil we make.

The Fifth Petition — Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us — sits at the center of this week’s theme. Luther’s Small Catechism puts it plainly: we ask God not to count our sins against us, even though we “daily sin much,” and then we turn around and extend that same mercy to others. It’s a confirmation‑class classic: “What does this mean?” It means forgiveness flows in two directions, and neither direction is easy.

That brings us to Jesus’ parable of the Unmerciful Servant. Peter wants to know how far forgiveness goes, and Jesus answers with a story that leaves no wiggle room. A king forgives a servant an impossible debt — years of wages wiped clean in a moment — only to watch that same servant choke a man who owes him pocket change. The king’s fury is justified, and the lesson lands with force: mercy received but not given becomes its own kind of prison.

Most parables unsettle us, and this one surely does. We know forgiveness is central to the Gospel, yet our instincts lean toward payback, score‑keeping, and the kind of rhetoric that fills our newsfeeds. Jesus pushes us in the opposite direction — toward a radical, countercultural mercy that mirrors God’s own heart. When we forgive, something miraculous happens: we remember whose image we bear, and we discover that forgiveness frees both the giver and the receiver. May we keep praying for that miracle — and practicing it!

Soli Deo Gloria

Elgar by Charles Frederick Grindrod, 1903

Edward Elgar (1857-1934) is an intriguing character. He came to prominence later in life, after years of feeling like an outsider in Britain’s musical world. He was largely self‑taught, the son of a shopkeeper, and he built his career through persistence rather than pedigree. When he wrote the Enigma Variations in 1899, he used the people closest to him as his raw material — fourteen musical portraits that revealed how deeply he relied on friendship and encouragement. “Nimrod,” the variation honoring his friend August Jaeger, became the emotional heart of the set.

John Cameron (b. 1944) turned Elgar’s beloved “Nimrod” into Lux Aeterna in 1996, giving the melody a new life as a choral prayer. His background as a versatile English arranger helps explain why the piece feels both faithful to Elgar and freshly expressive. In short, Cameron’s version lets voices carry the quiet strength of “Nimrod,” turning a personal tribute into something communal and deeply fitting for moments of remembrance.

As we mark twenty‑five years since 9‑11, this version lands with a quiet honesty. It lets memory rise the way Elgar’s melody rises — gradually, with room for grief, resilience, and the stories that still shape us. Lux Aeterna offers a way to carry those names forward with light.

Lyrics

Lux aeterna luceat eis Domine cum sanctis tuis
In aeternum:
Quia pius es
Requiem aeternam dona eis
Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis
Cum sanctis tuis in aeternum quia pius es

Translation:

May eternal light shine upon them, O Lord, with Your saints for ever, for You are merciful.
Grant them eternal rest, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon them, with Your saints for ever, for You are merciful.

The Toronto Mendelssohn Singers are the chamber‑sized ensemble drawn from the larger Toronto Mendelssohn Choir. They work with a smaller roster, which gives them a clean, flexible sound that suits everything from early music to contemporary pieces. Led by Jean‑Sébastien Vallée, they appear regularly in the Choir’s season and in collaborations across the city. Their performances highlight precision, warmth, and the kind of blend you only get from seasoned choral musicians.

Visit Their Website Here

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW.

Commemorations: Week of 7 September

Wednesday 9 September
Peter Claver, priest, missionary to Colombia (d. 1654)

Sunday 13 September
John Chrysostom, Bishop of Constantinople (d. 407)

Utilize the links for further information!

St. Peter Claver (1580–1654) was a Spanish Jesuit who spent nearly his entire ministry in Cartagena, where slave ships arrived by the thousands. He became famous — and sometimes controversial — for boarding those ships the moment they docked, bringing food, water, medicine, and whatever comfort he could offer to people who had endured the Middle Passage. Claver had trained in Spain and was shaped by the Jesuit push toward missionary work, but in the New World he took that calling to an extreme, referring to himself as the “slave of the Africans forever.” He didn’t just care for people in the harbor; he followed them to plantations, advocated for humane treatment, and baptized tens of thousands. His life left such a mark that he’s now remembered as the patron saint of slaves, of Colombia, and of ministry to African Americans.

St. Peter Claver, Church of San Ignazio, Bogota, Colombia (18th Century)

Tim Mackie (b. 1976) is a biblical scholar and pastor best known as the co‑founder and main teacher behind The Bible Project, where he turns dense biblical themes into clear, engaging explanations. Several of our members at ELC have been introduced to these through a current Bible Reading challenge we are walking through.

Before earning his Ph.D. at UCLA, he completed his undergraduate and master’s work at UW–Madison, which helped spark his deep interest in Hebrew Bible studies. Mackie blends academic rigor with an easygoing, conversational style that makes ancient texts feel surprisingly accessible. He’s especially drawn to the literary design of Scripture, ancient languages, and the world of Second Temple Judaism. At his core, he’s a guide who helps people see the Bible as a unified story that still speaks with power today.

Tim Mackie
(b. 1976)

Tim Mackie is prolific and a simple search will verify that!

Access a series of Mackie’s sermons here!

As we turn the page into September, we’re refreshing our adult education opportunities at ELC as we continue creating spaces where members can explore Scripture and connect faith to daily life. Our digital ministry—including Two Worlds, the weekly lectionary blog — remains part of that effort. Beginning in September, Sundays from 11:00–11:45 a.m. will be dedicated to Faithful Conversations, a renewed rhythm of study shaped by three strands: Lutheran Theology, History, and Spiritual Disciplines. We’ll begin with a four‑week book study of Real Faith for Real Life (27 September–18 October), followed by a one‑day Reformation session on Martin Luther (25 October), a four‑week exploration of the lectionary (1–29 November), and a five‑week study of the Augsburg Confession (10 January–7 February 2027).

If you are interested in ordering the book for our first go-round, follow the link below. We will also have several copies available. We will revisit a study the book from three years ago — it remains remarkably relevant.

ORDER YOUR COPY HERE!

Two Worlds: Pentecost 15: 6 September 2026

Two Worlds started in February 2023 as a simple extension of an Intro to Bible Study class and a desire to dig deeper into the Revised Common Lectionary. Today it’s a small digital ministry space that shares the RCL readings, a brief homily, and supporting images, music, and ELCA commemorations. The blog is authored by Paul Rykken in consultation with Pastor Jen Hatleli of Evangelical Lutheran Church in Black River Falls, Wisconsin.

Note: The blog lands more naturally on a larger screen.

Reflect on This . . .

“Luther revolutionized the understanding of the laity and clergy and introduced the concept of vocation and the understanding of “everyday worship”, where one serves God through one’s daily tasks and work, for the good of the community. He did this by highlighting that everyone is called to serve God with their lives and work.”

Rev. Dr. Anne Burghardt
Lutheran World Federation

Note: I drew this quote from an address delivered by Dr. Burghardt in South Africa, August 2026. The full text is linked at the end of the blog.

Common Themes and Connections

The common thread running through these Pentecost 15 readings is a sober but hopeful reckoning with sin—not as a topic for shame or avoidance, but as a reality that calls for truthful speech, renewed desire, and communal repair. Ezekiel names sin plainly as the path that leads to death, yet God’s desire is always that people turn and live, which makes honest warning an act of love rather than judgment. Psalm 119 internalizes this struggle, portraying sin as the pull of “selfish gain” and misplaced desire, countered by a heart taught and shaped by God’s way. Paul and Matthew both press this into daily life: Romans insists that love is the antidote to sin’s distortions and urges believers to “wake up” from the numbing habits that keep them from God, while Matthew frames sin within community relationships, where confrontation, forgiveness, and reconciliation become the means by which Christ remains present among his people.

Rembrandt’s Saint Matthew Inspired by an Angel feels almost like you’ve walked in on a quiet moment: Matthew is hunched over his writing, and an angel leans in close, as if sharing a last‑minute tip or gentle nudge. The whole scene has that late‑Rembrandt vibe—earthy colors, loose brushwork, and a focus on mood rather than fancy details. By 1661, Rembrandt had weathered plenty of personal and financial trouble, and you can sense that introspective, human-centered approach in the way he paints Matthew as a thoughtful, slightly weary man doing his best to capture something divine. Today the painting hangs in the Louvre, still radiating that mix of mystery and tenderness that Rembrandt was so good at.

Saint Matthew Inspired by an Angel (Rembrandt, 1661)
Unk Rykken (1924-2013)

“There’s never any shortage of sin in the world.” My father, Thor “Unk” Rykken, used to say that with a grin that suggested he’d seen plenty of evidence. He certainly wasn’t wrong. Sin is always nearby, and we usually spot it in someone else long before we recognize it in ourselves. This week’s readings don’t let us dodge the topic — they show us how God confronts sin and how we’re called to do the same.

Ezekiel knew what it meant to name sin out loud. God asked him to warn Israel during the Babylonian Captivity, a job most of us would avoid — how would you react to someone shouting at us on the church steps about repentance? Yet Ezekiel 33:11 reveals the heart behind the hard words: God takes no pleasure in anyone’s downfall but longs for us to turn and live. Luther loved that verse because it exposes the grace beneath the judgment — God doesn’t want us stuck in misery or wandering in the dark. Even when sin is real and its consequences unavoidable, God’s desire is always life. Paul’s message in Romans 13 shifts the focus from warning to transformation. For people shaped by 613 commandments (can you imagine?), the idea that love fulfills the entire law must have felt like switching from a thousand‑page manual to a sticky note. The command to “love your neighbor as yourself” wasn’t new, but Jesus embodied it so completely that Paul could say love dismantles sin’s power. Sin shrinks life; love expands it. Sin isolates; love wakes us up and pulls us into community.

Jesus Eats With Sinners and Tax Collectors (Alexander Bida, 1875)

Finally, Matthew’s Gospel brings sin into the daily life of the church, where conflict is inevitable and usually uncomfortable. Jesus doesn’t treat conflict as a scandal to hide but as a place where honesty and dignity must meet. His three‑step process is practical and surprisingly calm: speak privately, then with witnesses, then with the community. And if reconciliation still fails, treat the person “as a gentile and a tax collector” — which, given Jesus’ dinner companions, may mean holding them with both truth and stubborn compassion. Relationships in Christ carry eternal weight, and how we handle sin between us shapes the health of the whole body.

As a lifelong teacher and coach, I’ve learned the difference between reacting and responding. Reacting is quick, emotional, and usually fueled by the sense that we’ve been wronged — something sin loves to amplify. Responding takes a breath, steps back, and chooses firm compassion, the kind of “tough love” that still protects dignity. That’s the spirit of Jesus’ teaching: deal with sin honestly but do it in a way that keeps the door open to grace. In a world overflowing with conflict, that approach feels not only wise but urgently needed.

Soli Deo Gloria

Dolly Parton (1946-2026)

When I heard of Dolly Parton’s death this week, my first thought was, “She carried Jesus into the world.” I don’t know all the details of her denominational background, but she spoke openly about her faith in Jesus Christ in a refreshing way and grew up in a deeply religious Tennessee family shaped by gospel music, Scripture, and the witness of her grandfather, Rev. Jake Owens. She often said she grew up knowing Jesus loved her and believing that through God all things were possible — an outlook that shaped both her music and the way she treated people. Her song, Light of a Clear Blue Morning, was written during a tumultuous period in her life in the 1970s. It resonates so deeply with Christians because it captures that unmistakable movement from darkness into hope — the very arc of the Gospel story — think resurrection.

Lyrics

It’s been a long dark night
And I’ve been a-waitin’ for the mornin’
It’s been a long hard fight
But I see a brand new day a-dawning
I’ve been looking for the sunshine
You know I ain’t seen it in so long
But everything’s gonna work out just fine
And everything’s gonna be all right
That’s been all wrong

‘Cause I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Oh, and everything’s gonna be all right
It’s gonna be okay

It’s been a long, long time (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Since I’ve known the taste of freedom
Those clinging vines (ooh, ooh, ooh)
That had me bound, well I don’t need ’em, oh
I’ve been like a captured eagle
You know, an eagle’s born to fly

Now that I have won my freedom
Like an eagle, I am eager for the sky

But I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Oh, and everything’s gonna be all right
It’s gonna be okay

I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Oh, and everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right
It’s gonna be okay

But I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Oh, and everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right
It’s gonna be okay

And I can see the light of a clear blue morning
I can see the light of a brand new day
I can see the light of a clear blue morning
Everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right
Everything’s gonna be all right
It’s gonna be okay

There are several versions of this song out there — this one is a favorite of mine. It features Dolly with a star-studded cast: Lainey Wilson, Miley Cyrus, Queen Latifah and Reba McEntire, along with David Foster on piano and Christ Church Choir on background vocals. When the song hits the 2:30 mark, you may want to dance!

Enjoy!

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW.

Commemorations: Week of 31 August

Wednesday 2 September
Nikolai Frederick Severin Grundvig, bishop, renewer of the church (d. 1872)

Follow this Link for Further Information

Grundtvig was a Danish pastor and writer who believed regular people deserved a chance to learn, grow, and shape their communities—not just those who went to universities. His ideas led to the creation of folk high schools, places where adults could live, study, sing, debate, and explore history and culture without the pressure of grades or exams. At their heart, these schools were about waking people up to their own gifts and helping them take part in the life of a healthy democracy.

N.F.S. Grundtvig (1783-1872)

The Lutheran World Federation (LWF) is a global communion of Lutheran churches formed in 1947 to strengthen cooperation in theology, mission, and humanitarian work across more than 99 countries. The ELCA has been a full and active member since its founding in 1988, inheriting earlier U.S. Lutheran participation in the LWF through predecessor church bodies. Through this relationship, ELCA congregations are connected to worldwide ministries of relief, advocacy, and ecumenical partnership carried out in the name of a shared Lutheran witness.

This document I shared below is a 2026 talk from Rev. Dr. Anne Burghardt, the General Secretary of the Lutheran World Federation, shared with Lutheran leaders from across Africa. She’s basically naming the tough stuff churches are facing—political division, rising authoritarianism, and pressure on communities—and urging leaders to lean into servant leadership rather than power‑driven models. Throughout the address, she keeps tying local challenges back to the wider global Lutheran family, reminding everyone that they’re part of a communion working together for justice, dignity, and faithful leadership.


READ THE FULL ADDRESS HERE

As we turn the page into September, we’re refreshing our adult education opportunities at ELC as we continue creating spaces where members can explore Scripture and connect faith to daily life. Our digital ministry—including Two Worlds, the weekly lectionary blog — remains part of that effort. Beginning in September, Sundays from 11:00–11:45 a.m. will be dedicated to Faithful Conversations, a renewed rhythm of study shaped by three strands: Lutheran Theology, History, and Spiritual Disciplines. We’ll begin with a four‑week book study of Real Faith for Real Life (27 September–18 October), followed by a one‑day Reformation session on Martin Luther (25 October), a four‑week exploration of the lectionary (1–29 November), and a five‑week study of the Augsburg Confession (10 January–7 February 2027).

If you are interested in ordering the book for our first go-round, follow the link below. We will also have several copies available. We will revisit a study the book from three years ago — it remains remarkably relevant.

ORDER YOUR COPY HERE!

Two Worlds: Pentecost 14: 30 August 2026

Navigate the Blog

Two Worlds started in February 2023 as a simple extension of an Intro to Bible Study class and a desire to dig deeper into the Revised Common Lectionary. Today it’s a small digital ministry space that shares the RCL readings, a brief homily, and supporting images, music, and ELCA commemorations. The blog is authored by Paul Rykken in consultation with Pastor Jen Hatleli of Evangelical Lutheran Church in Black River Falls, Wisconsin.

Note: The blog lands more naturally on a larger screen.

Reflect on This . . .

Fewer than half of all adults reported having read a book of any kind in 2022. Only 38% read a novel or short story. Those who read for pleasure on any given day fell from 28% in 2004 to 16% in 2023. 40% prefer to watch or listen to online news rather than read it. Gambling has become a more common leisure activity. Last year, 57% of Americans placed a bet. Clearly, we have entered a different world with respect to how we access and digest information.

Source: “The Age of Reading is Over.” The Atlantic Magazine, August 2026.

Pentecost 14 Readings

Common Themes and Connections

The readings for Pentecost 14 trace the costly but ultimately life‑giving path of faithfulness to God. Jeremiah and the psalmist both appeal to God for vindication, trusting that divine strength sustains those who walk with integrity even when opposed. Paul urges the community to embody sincere love through perseverance, humility, and non‑retaliation, framing discipleship as a lived sacrifice. Jesus then makes the challenge explicit: following him means taking up the cross, losing life in order to find it, and trusting that God’s purposes outweigh fear or self‑protection.

Guercino’s Saint Peter (1650) shows the apostle in a quiet, reflective moment, holding the large, unmistakable key that has become his symbol. Guercino—one of the great Italian Baroque painters—had a gift for capturing human emotion, and here Peter looks both humbled and entrusted, as if he’s still absorbing what Jesus told him. The key itself points directly to Christ’s words in Matthew 16: “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven,” a promise Peter probably didn’t fully understand at the time. In Guercino’s hands, the key isn’t a trophy but a responsibility—something weighty, something that asks for obedience and courage. The painting invites us to see Peter not as a triumphant leader, but as a disciple still learning what it means to carry what Christ has placed in his hands.

Saint Peter (Italian 1650)
Artist: Guercino (1591–1666)

Pentecost 14: “Taking Up the Cross (Without Pretending I’m Good at It)”

Prefontaine and Bjorklund, 1971

Perseverance has been on my mind this week, in part because we just launched another Cross Country season. No trait matters more in the athletic world than perseverance. You can have talent, good shoes, and perfect weather, but if you don’t have perseverance, the race owns you. Every runner eventually meets that moment when the body wants to quit and the mind has to decide whether it will obey the impulse to stop or obey something deeper — a commitment, a calling, a purpose. And that’s where the connection between perseverance and obedience gets interesting.

OBEDIENCE. Not exactly the word you’d choose for a motivational poster. It’s certainly not trending on Instagram. The Latin root obedire means “to give ear,” which sounds noble enough — until you remember how often we prefer to give ear to…well…ourselves. We live in a culture that treats personal freedom like a competitive sport. If there were an Olympic event for “doing whatever I want,” we would surely win the gold medal. So yes, OBEDIENCE feels old‑fashioned, like something your great‑grandmother might have embroidered on a pillow right next to “Don’t run with scissors.” But Scripture doesn’t seem embarrassed by it. This week, for example, Psalm 26 gives us David “walking in faithfulness” and integrity. I love that line — “I have walked in my integrity.” It sounds like David is giving us a spiritual Fitbit report: “Steps today: faithful. Heart rate: steady. Integrity: 100%.” Romans, meanwhile, reads like Paul’s Christianity 101 — genuine love, ardent service, patient perseverance. The phrase “do not lag in zeal” is especially appealing to me; it feels like something we should add to our daily vocabulary, maybe even shout at the starting line.

Then Matthew’s Gospel arrives and gives us much to think about this week. We meet the disciples right after Peter’s big moment — the “You are the Messiah” declaration that earns him a blessing and a future leadership role. For a brief second, Peter is riding high. Then Jesus starts talking about suffering, rejection, and death. The disciples freeze. This is not the Messiah job description they signed up for. Peter, ever the enthusiastic volunteer, jumps in: “No way, Lord. That must never happen.” And Jesus responds with the spiritual equivalent of a bucket of cold water: “Get behind me, Satan.” It’s harsh. It’s jarring. And honestly, I feel for Peter. He wasn’t trying to sabotage the mission; he was trying to protect his friend. He wanted a Messiah who fit his expectations — strong, victorious, kingly. The idea of a suffering Messiah was unthinkable. We have hindsight and early disciples did not — I always try to keep that in mind. They were living this remarkable story in real time, without knowing the ending. No resurrection yet. No Easter alleluias. Just a beloved teacher telling them the road ahead would be costly.


So what do we do with this in 2026? Jesus’ call to “take up the cross” can feel abstract for those of us who are not persecuted for our faith. But maybe “taking up the cross” today looks like OBEDIENCE — giving ear to God instead of our own ego (which, let’s be honest, can be pretty loud). Maybe it means letting the Holy Spirit nudge us into places we wouldn’t choose on our own — places that stretch us, humble us, or require us to care for people we would rather avoid. Maybe it means opening our hearts to the pain around us, even when compassion feels inconvenient. Maybe it means grieving the divisions that fracture our communities and choosing, deliberately and courageously, to show up as a Christian presence anyway. The world is starving for that presence — not louder opinions, but deeper obedience. So, let’s reclaim OBEDIENCE — not as blind submission, but as attentive faith. Let’s “give ear” to God’s call, take up the cross in whatever form it arrives, and walk forward in the light of Christ.

Soli Deo Gloria

Musical Reflection

Young Bob Dylan, 1963

Bob Dylan’s “Ring Them Bells” comes from a season when he was wrestling with faith, fatigue, and the erosion of moral clarity he saw around him. The song’s Christian imagery — saints, judgment, blindness, and the plea for renewed discernment — mirrors the tension in Matthew 16, where Jesus tells the disciples that following him means stepping into a path defined by the cross rather than self‑protection. Dylan’s bells sound like the Gospel’s summons: a call to wake up, to hear God’s voice cutting through confusion, and to recognize that true life is found not in saving ourselves but in losing ourselves for Christ’s sake. In both the song and the Gospel, the message is urgent and unmistakable — clarity comes when we heed the call and follow Jesus into the costly way of discipleship.

Lyrics

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

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

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

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

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

There are many covers of this song out there, but I’m partial to this one from Joan Baez. Baez and Bob Dylan had a fast, messy, and hugely influential connection in the early ’60s. She was already a star, he was the unique newcomer with astonishing songs, and she basically opened the door for him — bringing him onstage, on tour, and into the spotlight. Their romance and musical partnership burned hot but didn’t last; Dylan’s rising fame and shifting priorities pulled them apart. Even so, their brief time together helped launch Dylan’s career and left a mark on both of them. Dylan has Jewish heritage and experienced a well-documented conversion to Christianity in the late 1970s. Baez was raised in the traditions of Quakerism. Both artists are deeply spiritual and offer interesting stories of faith.

Who Are We Commemorating This Week?

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW.

Commemorations: Week of 24 August

Monday 24 August
BARTHOLOMEW, APOSTLE

Friday 28 August
Augustine, Bishop of Hippo (d. 430)

Moses the Black, Monk, Martyr (c. 400)

Follow the Links for Further Information

Martin Luther
Augustinian Monk

“Holy Christendom has, in my judgment, no better teacher after the apostles than St. Augustine.”






Saint Augustine (354-430)
by Philippe de Champaigne

Living Lutheran is the flagship magazine of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, offering stories, reflections, and reporting that explore how faith is lived out in daily life. It highlights the people, ministries, and global connections of the ELCA while engaging readers with thoughtful articles on theology, discipleship, justice, and contemporary issues. Designed to inform and inspire, the magazine serves as a gathering place for the diverse voices and experiences that shape Lutheran life today.

Visit the Living Lutheran Magazine Website

As we turn the page into September, we’re refreshing our adult education opportunities at ELC as we continue creating spaces where members can explore Scripture and connect faith to daily life. Our digital ministry—including Two Worlds, the weekly lectionary blog — remains part of that effort. Beginning in September, Sundays from 11:00–11:45 a.m. will be dedicated to Faithful Conversations, a renewed rhythm of study shaped by three strands: Lutheran Theology, History, and Spiritual Disciplines. We’ll begin with a four‑week book study of Real Faith for Real Life (27 September–18 October), followed by a one‑day Reformation session on Martin Luther (25 October), a four‑week exploration of the lectionary (1–29 November), and a five‑week study of the Augsburg Confession (10 January–7 February 2027).

If you are interested in ordering the book for our first go-round, follow the link below. We will also have several copies available. We will revisit a study the book from three years ago — it remains remarkably relevant.

ORDER YOUR COPY HERE!

Two Worlds: Pentecost 13: 23 August 2026

Being Transfomed

“The power of becoming something new with the arrival of each new day is one of the recognized privileges of having Christ live in the lives of those who follow him, or what Dietrich Bonhoeffer once described in personal terms as ‘Jesus Christ incarnate, crucified, glorified, entering my life and taking charge.’ The spectacular idea that we no longer have to make up our lives by the minute — or live under the constraint of our own charm or wit — is one of the blessings of being shaped by God.”

Peter W. Marty

Navigate the Blog

Pentecost 13 Readings

Common Themes and Connections

The readings for Pentecost 13 (Year A) share a through-line of identity, vocation, and God’s sustaining faithfulness. Isaiah calls the people to “look to the rock from which you were hewn,” grounding their hope in God’s enduring righteousness and salvation. Psalm 138 echoes that confidence, praising the God who regards the lowly and strengthens the fainthearted. Romans 12 shifts the theme toward lived response, urging believers to offer themselves as a living sacrifice and to embrace their Spirit-given gifts for the sake of the community. In Matthew 16, Peter’s confession reveals the heart of Christian identity—recognizing Jesus as the Messiah—and Jesus responds by naming and commissioning the church for its mission. Together, these texts weave a picture of a people rooted in God’s steadfastness, called into purposeful service, and empowered to confess and embody the gospel in the world.

Giovanni Lanfranco’s (1582-1647) Liberation of Saint Peter captures the explosive moment when divine light breaks into human confinement — an angel flooding Peter’s prison cell with radiance, rousing him from chains and leading him past guards who remain trapped in darkness. The painting’s swirling motion and stark chiaroscuro make the rescue feel both urgent and undeserved, a vivid embodiment of God’s power to free, call, and commission. That same dynamic pulses through Matthew 16:13–20. Peter, who will later be liberated (recounted in Acts 12), is here “awakened” in a different way: his confession of Jesus as the Messiah becomes the moment when God reveals, illumines, and entrusts him with a vocation he could never claim on his own. Lanfranco’s scene of physical deliverance mirrors the gospel’s spiritual one — Peter is the rock not because of his strength, but because God’s light breaks in, names him, and sends him.

Saint Paul by Rembrandt (1606-1669)

One of the admonitions I offer my history students is simple but important: work to make this knowledge your own. Don’t just memorize it — absorb it, wrestle with it, let it shape how you see the world. That mindset fits our exploration of scripture as well. Romans 12:1–8 was one of those passages that grabbed me in my formative years. It didn’t feel abstract or distant; it felt like Paul was speaking directly to me, inviting me to see scripture not as ancient words but as a guide for how to live a real, everyday life. That early encounter helped me sense that faith isn’t something we hold at arm’s length — it’s something we make our own, something that forms us from the inside out.

To appreciate the force of this passage, a bit of backstory helps. Paul’s Letter to the Romans comes near the end of his ministry, written to a community he has not yet visited but hopes to strengthen for the mission ahead. In chapters 1–11 he lays out a sweeping theological vision: humanity’s universal need for grace, God’s saving action in Christ, and the astonishing inclusion of both Jews and Gentiles in a single covenant family. He traces God’s mercy from Abraham forward, culminating in Christ’s faithfulness and the gift of the Spirit. By the time he reaches chapter 12, Paul has built a grand argument about what God has done; now he turns to what this new life looks like in practice — a transformed community offering itself to God in gratitude.

That shift sets up the heart of today’s reading. Paul moves from proclamation to invitation. After eleven chapters describing God’s mercy, he shows what that mercy does in us. He begins with two forceful ideas: present and transform. Present your whole selves to God. And do not be shaped by the world’s patterns — be transformed by the renewing of your minds. Paul isn’t describing a minor adjustment. He’s naming a deep interior shift that changes how we see, choose, and live. These were radical notions for first‑generation Christians, and they remain radical for us who inhabit the twenty‑first century.

And that’s where discernment enters the picture. A renewed mind allows us to “discern what is the will of God — what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Discernment is the Spirit‑shaped ability to sort through the noise and recognize what aligns with God’s purposes. Transformation and discernment work together: as God reshapes us, we learn to see with clearer eyes and respond with wiser hearts. And it echoes what Peter Marty in that introductory statement above — that Christ’s presence frees us from having to invent our lives moment by moment or rely on our own charm or wit. We are being shaped by God, not driven by self‑construction. And that’s Paul’s point: the Christian life doesn’t run on autopilot. It grows as we offer ourselves to God, allow grace to transform us, and practice the kind of discernment that keeps us aligned with God’s renewing work in the world. This is good news to share this week and beyond!

Soli Deo Gloria!

Musical Reflection

“I Want Jesus to Walk with Me” is an African American spiritual that emerged anonymously in the 19th century among enslaved communities, shaped by lived suffering and a deep trust in God’s companionship. Because spirituals were created and transmitted orally, there is no single composer; the song reflects the collective voice of the Black church. ELW (hymn 325) includes it as part of its commitment to honoring African American sacred music and expanding the church’s sung witness to lament, endurance, and hope.

The arrangement I posted here is a truly fun version of this song by a group from Brazil. Enjoy!

Lyrics

1. I want Jesus to walk with me.
I want Jesus to walk with me.
All along my pilgrim journey,
I want Jesus to walk with me.

2. In my trials, walk with me.
In my trials, walk with me.
When the shades of life are falling,
I want Jesus to walk with me.

3. In my sorrows, walk with me.
In my sorrows, walk with me.
When my heart within is aching.
I want Jesus to walk with me.

4. In my troubles, walk with me.
In my troubles, walk with me.
When my life becomes a burden,
I want Jesus to walk with me.

Jetro Meira de Oliveira is closely connected to Officina Vocalis as one of its central artistic leaders and shapers. He is widely recognized in Brazilian choral circles as a conductor, scholar, and pedagogue with a particular gift for chamber‑choir refinement—clean intonation, expressive clarity, and historically informed interpretation. Officina Vocalis reflects his artistic profile: a small, disciplined ensemble capable of navigating Renaissance polyphony, Baroque works, and contemporary repertoire with precision and warmth.

Visit His Website Here!

Note: The ELCA commemorates a wide range of Christians throughout the year as a way of remembering that God has worked through ordinary people in every age. These commemorations — drawn from Scripture, the early church, the Reformation, and more recent history — invite us to see faith lived out in many different vocations and cultures. They aren’t about elevating “heroes,” but about widening our sense of the communion of saints and letting their witness encourage our own. In marking these days, the church pauses to give thanks, to learn, and to be reminded that the Holy Spirit continues to shape faithful lives in every generation.

You will find the full listing of them in the front of the ELW. We have only one on the calendar this week.

Commemorations: Week of 17 August

Thursday 20 August
Bernard, Abbott of Clairvaux (d.1153)

Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153) was a towering figure of 12th‑century Western Christianity — monk, mystic, reformer, and one of the most influential voices of the Cistercian Movement. Born into a noble family in Burgundy, he entered the newly founded monastery at Cîteaux as a young man and soon helped establish Clairvaux, where his leadership and spiritual intensity shaped a generation of monastic life. Bernard became known for his passionate preaching, his deep devotion to Christ, and his role in major church affairs, including advising popes and inspiring the Second Crusade. His writings, especially on love of God and humility, remain central to Christian spirituality.

Living Lutheran is the flagship magazine of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, offering stories, reflections, and reporting that explore how faith is lived out in daily life. It highlights the people, ministries, and global connections of the ELCA while engaging readers with thoughtful articles on theology, discipleship, justice, and contemporary issues. Designed to inform and inspire, the magazine serves as a gathering place for the diverse voices and experiences that shape Lutheran life today.

Visit the Living Lutheran Magazine Website

The Bible Project is a nonprofit, crowdfunded organization that creates free animated videos, podcasts, articles, and classes to help people experience the Bible as a unified story that leads to Jesus. Founded in 2014 by biblical scholar Tim Mackie and filmmaker Jon Collins, the project uses visual storytelling and solid scholarship to make Scripture approachable and transformative. Their resources—covering every book of the Bible, major themes, and key word studies—are available in more than 50 languages and are designed to support both individual study and group learning.

The video posted below is an example of their work — a wonderful explanation of the concept of Shalom.