16 November 2025: Pentecost 23

Harriet Tubman
(c. 1822-1913)

Jesus’ words in verse 19 of this week’s Gospel ignite the memory of Harriet Tubman—a woman whose fierce endurance forged legend. Born into slavery in 1822, she escaped at 27 and refused to walk free alone; instead, she returned again and again, guiding over 70 enslaved people to freedom with unshakable courage and razor-sharp cunning. The 2019 film Harriet captures just a glimpse of her fire—well worth your time. Tubman’s deep Christian faith fueled her mission; she trusted divine guidance and moved with conviction. During the Civil War, she served the Union as a scout, nurse, and spy, and shattered precedent as the first woman to lead a U.S. military raid. After the war, she championed women’s suffrage and cared for the elderly, embodying justice until her final breath. Our church calendar honors both her and Sojourner Truth on March 11—a fitting tribute to lives that refused to bend. I’ll return to the theme of endurance later in the blog.

Martin, Bishop of Tours

Thanks for visiting this space again this week! Next Sunday, believe it or not, is the final Sunday of the Year C of the Revised Common Lectionary! (30 November will be the first Sunday of Advent). Two commemorations are on this week’s ELCA calendar, both falling on Tuesday. It was on 11 November in 397 that Martin, Bishop of Tours died. Hungarian born in 336, Martin was a 4th-century Roman soldier who converted to Christianity and became one of the first non-martyr saints widely venerated in Western Europe. Renowned for his humility and compassion, he famously cut his military cloak in half to share with a beggar during a snowstorm—a gesture that became emblematic of Christian charity. As bishop, he opposed violence and paganism while promoting monasticism and pastoral care, leaving a legacy that shaped medieval Christian identity. And interestingly, Martin Luther was named for Martin of Tours because he was baptized on 11 November in 1483 when he was two days old! (There’s some good Lutheran trivia for you). And we also mark the passing of Soren Kierkegaard (1813-1855) on Tuesday who died in 1855. It was Kierkegaard, Danish philosopher and theologian, who pioneered Christian Existentialism, emphasizing personal experience, choice, and the inner struggle of faith. He deeply influenced 20th Century theologians like Paul Tillich and Reinhold Niebuhr.

My reflections this week focus on the Malachi and Luke readings (influenced by the ongoing dialogue found in 2 Thessalonians). I also offer a musical connection to Psalm 98 that I hope you will enjoy.

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

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


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

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

The readings for Pentecost 23 share themes of divine justice, perseverance, and hope rooted in God’s faithfulness. Malachi 4:1–2a warns of a coming day of judgment, yet promises healing for those who revere the Lord. Psalm 98 celebrates God’s righteous rule and salvation, calling all creation to rejoice in His just governance. In 2 Thessalonians 3:6–13, Paul urges believers to live diligently and not grow weary in doing good, trusting in the Lord’s steadfastness. Luke 21:15–19 assures disciples that even in the face of persecution, God will grant wisdom and endurance, and not a hair of their head will perish.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 23.” Copilot, 7 November 2025, Copilot website.

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

First Reading: Malachi 4: 1-2a

See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the Lord of hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings. You shall go out leaping like calves from the stall.

The Gospel: Luke 21: 15-19

15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and siblings, by relatives and friends, and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

The Prophet Malachi
Russian Orthodox

Starting with the celebration of Pentecost (8 June), we are now in the 23rd week of Ordinary Time, the longest season of the church year. As Professor Fred Gaiser of Luther Seminary pointed out in a commentary on the Malachi reading, we are “inundated” with several texts concerning the end times in the latter weeks of the Lectionary cycle, including the passages highlighted here. Let’s start with some historical context.

Malachi appears only a few times in the Revised Common Lectionary, most notably on the Presentation of Our Lord (Malachi 3:1–4) and in Year C’s late autumn readings (Malachi 4:1–2a). Both passages highlight themes of purification, judgment, and the promise of a coming messenger—threads that tie the Old Testament’s final words to the hope of Advent. The book was written between 460 and 400 BCE, during a time when the people of Judah had returned from exile but were disillusioned by unmet expectations of renewal. Though the temple had been rebuilt, spiritual apathy and social injustice plagued the community. Malachi confronted corrupt priests, broken relationships, and a lack of trust in God’s promises. His message, delivered in a series of dialogues, called the people back to covenant faithfulness and sincere worship. As the final book of the Old Testament, Malachi bridges the prophetic tradition with the hope of a coming messenger who would prepare the way for the Lord.

St. Luke the Evangelist

Luke 21, written four centuries later, speaks directly into the chaos following Rome’s destruction of the Jerusalem Temple in 70 CE — a seismic blow to Jewish and early Christian identity. Writing decades after Jesus’ apocalyptic warnings (between 80-90 CE), Luke channels the urgency and unrest of first-century Palestine, where Roman oppression and religious conflict threatened survival. In Luke’s recounting, Jesus foretells persecution and collapse yet promises divine wisdom and endurance to those who remain faithful. For Luke’s audience, still reeling from the Temple’s fall, these words reframed suffering as a path toward redemption. (Sidebar: We have to consider that Luke would be writing for some who had a living memory of Jesus, similar to how we might think about events from the mid-1970s).

A.I. Generated Image

In this anxious first third of the 21st century, what can Christians draw from these ancient texts? Many lessons, but let me offer two challenges. First, Malachi urges us to rekindle faith in an age of apathy. He calls us to examine our spiritual integrity, confront institutional corruption, and renew our trust in God’s promises—not passively, but as active covenant partners. In a culture steeped in cynicism and consumerism, this summons demands sincerity and ethical courage. Second, Jesus’ words in Luke challenge us to pair endurance with wisdom in times of upheaval—whenever they arise. Early Christians faced violence, division, and cultural fragmentation (sound familiar?), yet they found hope, resilience, and salvation in Christ. Their faith was forged in fire. As we navigate our own storms, let us draw strength from their example—and follow with a quiet, fierce endurance.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Herbert Brokering
(1926-2009)

Psalm 98 calls all creation to sing a new song to the Lord—a summons that inspired (at least) two familiar hymns: Joy to the World and Earth and All Stars. Both echo the psalm’s vision of joyful, universal praise for God’s saving acts. Herbert Brokering wrote Earth and All Stars in 1964 to mark the 90th anniversary of St. Olaf College. He wove together the wonders of nature and human achievement — “loud rushing planets,” “classrooms and labs” — into a single chorus of praise. The refrain, “He has done marvelous things,” quotes Psalm 98:1 directly, anchoring the hymn in scriptural celebration. I had the privilege of meeting Brokering when he spoke at Concordia during my student years. He addressed us in Chapel and in a religion class—an unforgettable presence.

Enjoy this interpretation of the song from the St. Olaf Choir — the organist is having some fun with it — my friend, Rollie Lee will enjoy this!

A note from a commentary on Psalm 98 (J. Clinton McCann, Jr.)
Psalm 98 is an extraordinarily important psalm. Along with the similar Psalm 96, it anchors the collection of YHWH-mlk (“the LORD reigns,” or “the LORD is king”; see verse 6) psalms, or enthronement psalms, that many commentators view as “the theological ‘heart’”1 of the book of Psalms. Furthermore, it is likely that Psalm 98 has been sung over the past 250 years as much as or more than any other psalm. This is due, of course, to the popularity of Isaac Watts’s metrical version of Psalm 98, ‘Joy to the World.’”

Source: Working Preacher (Luther Seminary), 5 May 2024.

Lyrics: Earth and All Stars

Earth and all stars, loud rushing planets,
sing to the Lord a new song!
O victory, loud shouting army,
sing to the Lord a new song!
He has done marvelous things.
I, too, will praise him with a new song!

Hail, wind, and rain, loud blowing snowstorms,
sing to the Lord a new song!
Flowers and trees, loud rustling dry leaves,
sing to the Lord a new song!
He has done marvelous things.
I, too, will praise him with a new song!

Trumpet and pipes, loud clashing cymbals,
sing to the Lord a new song!
Harp, lute, and lyre, loud humming cellos,
sing to the Lord a new song!
He has done marvelous things.
I, too, will praise him with a new song!

Knowledge and truth, loud sounding wisdom,
sing to the Lord a new song!
Daughter and son, loud praying members,
sing to the Lord a new song!
He has done marvelous things.
I, too, will praise him with a new song.

Note: There are several variations of the song lyrics. These are from Augsburg Fortress Publishing, 1968.

Psalm 98

O sing to the Lord a new song,
    for he has done marvelous things.
His right hand and his holy arm
    have gotten him victory.
The Lord has made known his victory;
    he has revealed his vindication in the sight of the nations.
He has remembered his steadfast love and faithfulness
    to the house of Israel.
All the ends of the earth have seen
    the victory of our God.

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth;
    break forth into joyous song and sing praises.
Sing praises to the Lord with the lyre,
    with the lyre and the sound of melody.
With trumpets and the sound of the horn
    make a joyful noise before the King, the Lord.

Let the sea roar and all that fills it,
    the world and those who live in it.
Let the floods clap their hands;
    let the hills sing together for joy
at the presence of the Lord, for he is coming
    to judge the earth.
He will judge the world with righteousness
    and the peoples with equity.

Henri Nouwen speaks to something deep and true here: the kind of home we build when we’re anchored in God’s love — a fearless space. In a world full of wounds, only God offers a space free from fear—a place where we can be honest, stay faithful, and grow together. This reminds me of Paul’s words in 2 Thessalonians 3:6–13. He calls us to live responsibly, to keep working, and not to grow weary in doing good. It’s a call to community that’s grounded in grace, not perfection. When we confess our weaknesses and lean into prayer, we begin to reflect the unbroken love of God—even in our brokenness.

Dutch Theologian
Henri Nouwen

Henri Nouwen (1932–1996) was a priest, professor, and spiritual writer. He authored over 40 books on the spiritual life and spent his final years at L’Arche Daybreak, a community for people with intellectual disabilities. Drawing from his own journey of vulnerability and faith, he invites seekers into deeper intimacy with God, themselves, and others. 

Join us for some free-flowing conversation about the Lectionary readings each Sunday. We meet from 10:45-11:30 in the church library each week, with some exceptions. No prior knowledge is necessary! ALL ARE WELCOME!

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK (and anything else you care to discuss from the readings):

1. What does “rekindling faith in an age of apathy” look like in our own community?

2. How can we cultivate endurance and wisdom in the face of modern upheaval?

And one more thing . . . . a notable event from the Lutheran World Federation:

On Reformation Day 2025, the Nepal Evangelical Lutheran Church (NELC) made history by ordaining its first two women pastors—Rev. Rinki Rachel Soren and Rev. Sushila Murmu. More than 325 people gathered in Laxmipur, Morang, to witness this powerful step toward greater inclusion in ministry. Read the full article here.

The Lutheran World Federation (LWF) is a global communion of Lutheran churches committed to faith, justice, and service. Founded in 1947, it brings together over 150 member churches in more than 99 countries. The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) is one of its largest members, actively participating in LWF’s global mission, humanitarian efforts, and ecumenical dialogue. Through this connection, the ELCA joins a worldwide network of Lutherans working together for peace, reconciliation, and shared witness.

19 October 2025: Pentecost 19

Introduction to Readers

Martin Luther
(1483-1546)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Common Themes Among the Readings

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

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

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

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

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

1960s Lutheran Humor, ala Charles Schultz

Psalm 121
A Song of Ascents.

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

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

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

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

Beth Jacob Cemetery, Finksburg,
Carroll County Maryland

Reflection: A Psalm for the Journey

Martin Luther

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

The Continental Divide National Scenic Trail

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

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

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

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

Soli Deo Gloria

A Musical Offering: Wayfaring Stranger

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

From the VOCES8 website:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faithful Conversations Updates

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

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

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

The Bible 365 Challenge!

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