21 December 2025: 4 Advent

Advent is the season of remembering, expecting, and waiting for the coming of Jesus into the world. But we cannot do so through the lens of historical or religious amnesia. Only when you begin to take into account the historical specificity of what leads to Advent are you truly able to understand the depth and breadth of this event. Only by remembering the history you might prefer to forget can you grapple with the wonder and beauty of the season.”
(Dr. Yolanda Pierce)

History is never just what happened “back there”; it is how we choose to remember. And, of course, we spend a good deal of time arguing over conflicting memories. In her December Christian Century article, Advent in all its Terror, Dr. Yolanda Pierce of Vanderbilt Divinity School confronts the raw realities of Jesus’ birth—poverty, political oppression, a refugee family desperate for shelter—and insists that memory matters, as unsettling as that may be. God entered our terror-filled world at precisely that moment and in that place, overturning worldly expectations of what a savior-king should look like — the word AWESOME comes to mind, an overused word in our day that in its origin meant something that inspires fear, dread, and great reverence. As the Fourth Sunday of Advent arrives and anticipation reaches its height, we are called not to sentimental escape but to courageous remembrance. The miracle of Advent is God dwelling with us in the midst of terror, reminding us that divine presence accompanies both suffering and hope. Much to think about.

Katie Luther
(1499-1552)

Thanks for coming into this space again this week, and for your continued interest in tackling the Lectionary! It’s hard to believe that Christmas is just around the corner. On Saturday, we commemorate Katie von Bora Luther, renewer of the church and wife of Martin, who died 473 years ago (20 December 1552). Her story is fascinating. Raised in convents from childhood, she escaped in 1523 with several other nuns—famously hidden in herring barrels—with Luther’s help. You can’t make that up! Two years later, she married Luther in 1525, and together they established a model Protestant household, raising six children while she managed the Black Cloister with remarkable skill in farming, brewing, and hospitality. (Sidebar: The Black Cloister was originally an Augustinian monastery in Wittenberg, later transformed into Martin Luther’s family home and the first Protestant parsonage). After Luther’s death in 1546, Katie endured hardship during the Schmalkaldic War, eventually dying in Torgau in 1552, remembered as a stabilizing force in Luther’s life and a significant figure in the Reformation.

My reflections this week will focus on the Old Testament prophecy and its connection to the Gospel. The musical meditation, Before the Marvel of this Night, captures the message of Advent well and I hope you enjoy it. I have also included the fourth installment of the interview I did with Pastor Jen Hatleli regarding the Malawi trip from October.

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

The readings for the Fourth Sunday of Advent share the theme of God’s faithful presence breaking into human history through promise and fulfillment. Isaiah speaks of a sign given to God’s people—a child born of a young woman—pointing to divine intervention and hope. Psalm 80 echoes this longing with a communal cry for restoration, asking God to “let your face shine” so that salvation may come. In Romans and Matthew, the promise is revealed in Jesus Christ, whose birth fulfills prophecy and embodies Emmanuel, “God with us,” assuring that God’s saving work is both ancient and ever new.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Advent 4 Sunday.” Copilot, 12 December 2025, Copilot website.

The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages. Give it a try this week!

  1. What is something NEW you learned?
  2. What is something that made you REFLECT?
  3. What is something that RELATES to prior knowledge?
  4. What is something you would like to further DISCUSS?

Focus Passages: Isaiah and Matthew

Isaiah 7: 10-16

10 Again the Lord spoke to Ahaz, saying, 11 “Ask a sign of the Lord your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven.” 12 But Ahaz said, “I will not ask, and I will not put the Lord to the test.” 13 Then Isaiah said, “Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary mortals that you weary my God also? 14 Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.  15 He shall eat curds and honey by the time he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. 16 For before the child knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land before whose two kings you are in dread will be deserted.

St. Matthew Inspired by an Angel (Rembrandt, 1661)

Matthew 1: 18-25

18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:

23 “Look, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a son and they shall name him Emmanuel,”


which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had given birth to a son, and he named him Jesus.

Reflections: “A King Refused, A Carpenter Obeyed”

King Ahaz by Guillaume Rouillé
(16th Century French woodcut)

As has been the case throughout Advent, I am intrigued by the connection between Old Testament prophecy and the story of God breaking into our humanity. This week’s Old Testament reading resoundingly echoes in the Gospel of Matthew. Seven hundred years before Christ — picture it, like us looking back to the year 1295 — Judah, the Southern Kingdom, was trembling. King Ahaz, a young ruler from the line of David, faced a dire threat: Israel and Aram had joined forces to pressure Judah into rebellion against Assyria. Isaiah urged Ahaz to trust God and even invited him to ask for a sign of God’s protection. But Ahaz refused. Why? Because he had already decided to rely on Assyria instead of God. Listening to Isaiah would have meant abandoning his political plan, and his heart was closed to God’s promise. Still, God gave the sign anyway: “The young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.” For Ahaz, this prophecy had an immediate horizon. It pointed perhaps to a child born in his own time—a living symbol that God’s presence would remain with His people and that the threat from Israel and Aram would soon fade. But the prophecy also carried a second horizon, stretching far beyond Ahaz’s day. Seven centuries later, Matthew tells us that these same words find their ultimate fulfillment in the birth of Jesus—the true Immanuel, “God with us.” What Ahaz could not see, the Gospel reveals: God’s faithfulness endures across generations, and the child born in Bethlehem is not just a temporary sign of reassurance but the lasting sign that God is with His people forever.

The Holy Family
(A.I. generated, 2025)

So, fast forward those seven centuries. Matthew tells us of another descendant of David, Joseph. Like John the Baptist, I fear I have never given Joseph enough attention in the exploration of these events. He too arrived at an existential moment. Mary, his betrothed, was found to be with child. His instinct was caution, compassion, a quiet divorce. But then — like Ahaz — Joseph was confronted with a divine word. Unlike Ahaz, Joseph chose trust. He obeyed the angel, embraced Mary, and named the child Jesus, “Yahweh saves.” Do you hear the echo? Isaiah’s promise of Immanuel — God with us — fulfilled in the child born of Mary. The sign given to Ahaz in fear becomes the sign embraced by Joseph in faith. One king refused, one carpenter obeyed.

And friends, here we stand on the threshold of Christmas. The question is not whether God will be faithful — He already is. The question is whether we will respond like Ahaz, turning to our own strategies, or like Joseph, opening our lives to God’s mystery. So as Advent closes, let Joseph be our guide. Ordinary, quiet, righteous Joseph—who shows us that God’s plan unfolds not in the halls of power but in the hearts of those willing to say yes.

Soli deo Gloria!

Musical Meditation: “Before the Marvel of this Night”

Before the Marvel of This Night by Jaroslav Vajda and Carl Schalk is relatively new. The text imagines the angels rehearsing their song of peace, bliss, and love before announcing Christ’s birth. Its refrain — “Sing peace, sing peace, sing Gift of Peace” — echoes the Advent longing for Christ as the fulfillment of God’s promise. On the Fourth Sunday of Advent, when the church leans into the nearness of Christmas, the hymn’s imagery of angels preparing to “tear the sky apart with light” mirrors our own anticipation of God’s breaking into history. In this way, the hymn becomes a fitting meditation for Advent’s final Sunday, inviting worshippers to join the angelic chorus in proclaiming peace and love as the world awaits the marvel of Christ’s coming.

THE LYRICS

1 Before the marvel of this night,
adoring, fold your wings and bow;
then tear the sky apart with light
and with your news the world endow.
Proclaim the birth of Christ and peace,
that fear and death and sorrow cease:
sing peace; sing peace; sing gift of peace;
sing peace; sing gift of peace!

2 Awake the sleeping world with song:
this is the day the Lord has made.
Assemble here, celestial throng,
in royal splendor come arrayed.
Give earth a glimpse of heavenly bliss,
a teasing taste of what they miss:
sing bliss; sing bliss; sing endless bliss;
sing bliss; sing endless bliss!

3 The love that we have always known,
our constant joy and endless light,
now to the loveless world be shown,
now break upon its deathly night.
Into one song compress the love
that rules our universe above:
sing love; sing love; sing God is love;

sing love; sing God is love!

The Choir of the Cathedral and Abbey Church of St. Alban is a distinguished English cathedral choir made up of boy and girl choristers alongside professional adult Lay Clerks, known for its international tours, recordings, and premieres of new works. Based at St Albans Cathedral, the oldest site of continuous Christian worship in Britain and dedicated to St Alban, England’s first Christian martyr, the choir’s music is deeply rooted in this historic setting. Through its blend of tradition and innovation, the choir embodies the cathedral’s mission to unite heritage and living faith in song.

“Identify and describe The Cathedral Choir of St. Alban” Copilot, 14 December 2025, Copilot website.

Prayer Reflection: “Recognizing the Lord” (Nouwen)

Henri Nouwen (1932–1996) was a Dutch Catholic priest, theologian, and prolific spiritual writer whose work continues to inspire millions worldwide. After teaching psychology and pastoral theology at institutions such as the University of Notre Dame, Yale Divinity School, and Harvard Divinity School, he left academia to join the L’Arche Daybreak community in Ontario, where he lived among and ministered to people with intellectual disabilities. Nouwen authored over 39 books—including The Wounded Healer and The Return of the Prodigal Son—that explore themes of vulnerability, prayer, community, and God’s unconditional love, blending psychology with spirituality in a way that made faith deeply accessible. His legacy lies in his ability to speak with honesty and compassion about the human struggle for belonging and the experience of being God’s beloved.

Be alert, be alert, so that you will be able to recognize your Lord in your husband, your wife, your parents, your children, your friends, your teachers, but also in all that you read in the daily newspapers. The Lord is coming, always coming. Be alert to his coming. When you have ears to hear and eyes to see, you will recognize him at any moment of your life. Life is Advent; life is recognizing the coming of the Lord.”

Faithful Conversation Updates

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

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK:

1. Ahaz refused God’s sign because he trusted in political power instead of divine promise. What are some “Assyrias” we turn to today—strategies, alliances, or securities—that keep us from trusting God’s presence in our own crises?

2. Joseph, unlike Ahaz, chose to trust and obey, even when God’s plan disrupted his expectations. How might Joseph’s quiet faithfulness inspire us to respond differently when God’s call feels uncertain or costly?

THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365
READING CHALLENGE

Monday 15 December: 1 Samuel 1-3
Tuesday 16 December: 1 Samuel 4-8
Wednesday 17 December: 1 Samuel 9-12
Thursday 18 December: 1 Samuel 13-14
Friday 19 December: 1 Samuel 15-17
Saturday 20 December: 1 Samuel 18-20
Sunday 21 December: 1 Samuel 21-24

Here is a LINK to the full Bible 365 Plan!

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

Reflections On Malawi: Part 4

Pastor Jenny Hatleli

14 December 2025: 3 Advent: Gaudete Sunday

JOY has been much on my mind this week. The word itself reaches back to Latin, where gaudia conveys gladness and delight. From that same root comes gaudete — “rejoice” — the word that gives Gaudete Sunday its name. This third Sunday of Advent takes its title from the opening of the ancient introit, Gaudete in Domino semper (“Rejoice in the Lord always”). Emerging in the early centuries of the Church when Advent was observed as a penitential season akin to Lent, this Sunday offered a liturgical pause of joy and anticipation amid the somber preparation, marked by rose‑colored vestments and candles instead of the usual purple. Historically, it reminded the faithful that the coming of Christ was not only a call to repentance but also a promise of joy. Today, Gaudete Sunday continues to be celebrated across Christian traditions as a moment of light breaking into Advent’s darkness—often symbolized by the rose candle on the Advent wreath—and serves as a reminder that even in waiting, the Church rejoices in the nearness of God’s presence.

Malawi children exuding JOY!

Thanks for visiting this space again today and for your continuing interest in studying the Bible and exploring the Revised Common Lectionary! We have two commemorations on the ELCA calendar this week: Lucy, the martyr (d. 304) on 13 December and John of the Cross, renewer of the church (d. 1591) on 14 December.

My reflections for 3 Advent will focus on the Matthew’s Gospel and John the Baptist. I will also offer a homily at ELC on Sunday regarding John’s story and his connection to the season of Advent. In addition, I have included a hauntingly beautiful piece of music from Iceland and the third excerpt of an interview with Pastor Jen Hatleli of ELC regarding her experience in Malawi, Africa in October of 2025.

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

The readings for Gaudete Sunday share a common theme of joy and hope breaking into the midst of waiting and struggle. Isaiah envisions the desert blossoming and the weak strengthened, while the psalm proclaims God’s justice for the oppressed and care for the vulnerable. James urges patient endurance, reminding believers that the Lord’s coming is near, and Matthew highlights Jesus as the fulfillment of prophetic promises, bringing healing and good news to the poor. Together, these texts invite the faithful to rejoice with confidence that God’s saving presence is already at work, even as they await its fullness.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Gaudete Sunday.” Copilot, 6 December 2025, Copilot website.

The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages. Give it a try this week!

  1. What is something NEW you learned?
  2. What is something that made you REFLECT?
  3. What is something that RELATES to prior knowledge?
  4. What is something you would like to further DISCUSS?

Focus Passage: Matthew 11:2-11

When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus answered them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, those with a skin disease are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me.” As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What, then, did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What, then, did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. 10 This is the one about whom it is written,

‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’

11 “Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist, yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.

Pastors Tom Heyd, A.M. Rusten, and Thor Rykken lined up left to right, hammering away at wooden crosses for Lent back in the 1960s. This week’s Gospel reading catapulted me straight back to that era, when Rusten thundered out a sermon on “John the Baptizer.” With his booming voice and thick Norwegian brogue, he didn’t just preach—he practically summoned John into the sanctuary. Anyone who knew Rusten remembers him vividly; a strong personality filled with the Holy Spirit!

Reflections: “John the Baptizer — Bridging the Covenant”

The Execution of Saint John the Baptist by Gandolfi (Italian, c. 1770)

John the Baptist has jolted me awake — in my mind I am standing with the crowd along the Jordan River trying to figure this guy out! For years I kept him at the edges, a minor figure overshadowed by Christ. But the more I study, I realize I need to spend more time with him. John storms into the wilderness, thunders repentance, plunges people into the Jordan, and then vanishes—silenced by Herod’s brutal command. Mark’s Gospel paints the most harrowing picture of John’s demise (Mark 6: 14-29): Herod fears John’s righteousness yet crumbles under Herodias’s grudge and her daughter’s demand. The scene exposes Herod’s weakness and John’s fearless courage. We are left with that gruesome image of John’s head on a platter. This week, however, Matthew refuses to let me dismiss him. Jesus declares John more than a prophet—the one who stands at history’s hinge, bridging the old covenant and the new, pointing us straight to the kingdom breaking in.

Saint John the Baptist by Boulogne (French, c. 1630)

In Matthew 11:2–11, we encounter John the Baptist in prison—his body worn down, his spirit unsettled. The prophet who once thundered with conviction now wrestles with doubt. He sends his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?” It is a profoundly human moment: the fiery herald of repentance now questioning in the shadows of confinement. (Perhaps John is questioning his cousin’s movement from the wilderness into the world — his association with “worldly people”). As is so often the case, Jesus does not respond with a simple “yes” or “no.” Instead, he points to the evidence of God’s reign breaking into the world: the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor receive good news. In other words, the promises of Isaiah are being fulfilled before their eyes. Then Jesus turns to the crowd and honors John. He asks them directly: “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind? A man dressed in fine clothes? No—you went to see a prophet.” These questions cut to the heart. John was not a reed bending to public opinion, nor a courtier seeking comfort and status. He was a prophet—unyielding, uncompromising, and chosen to prepare the way. And yet, Jesus adds a startling twist: “Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.” John stands at the threshold of the kingdom, pointing toward it, but the kingdom itself is breaking in with a new kind of power—one not built on human greatness but on God’s grace. Even the least who enter into this kingdom share in a reality greater than John’s prophetic mission, because they live within the fullness of what Christ brings.

Saint John the Baptist Bearing Witness by Carracci (Italian, c. 1600)

And that is why John the Baptizer is the perfect symbol of Advent. The word itself means “coming” or “arrival,” and John embodies that threshold moment. He points beyond himself, preparing the way, reminding us that the kingdom is near. Advent is not only about waiting—it is about waiting with urgency, with repentance, with hope. John’s life tells us that joy and judgment, longing and fulfillment, are woven together in the coming of Christ. He is not a footnote; he is the voice crying out in the wilderness, the herald of Advent joy. But his cry is not only for the crowds of the Jordan River—it echoes still. If John’s voice were to reach us today, what paths would we need to straighten, what valleys would we need to lift, so that Christ might truly arrive in our midst?

Soli Deo Gloria and Gaudete in Domino semper!



Note: I am indebted to Fr. Morgan Reed of the Corpus Christie Anglican for his interpretation of this week’s Gospel. You can read his full homily here. In addition, I utilized interpretations of John the Baptist offered by Garry Wills in his 2006 book, What Jesus Meant.

We will explore this passage further in our Sunday Lectionary group using the discussion questions included in the Faithful Conversations update below.

Musical Meditation: “Fljótavík” (Sigur Rós)

As we enter the season of Advent, we are invited to see ourselves as travelers moving through wilderness and storm, longing for shelter and light. Sigur Rós’s “Fljótavík,” named after a remote bay in Iceland, tells of a journey ashore, a struggle across sand and stone, and the discovery of a fragile hut where rest is found while the storm rages outside. The music mirrors this imagery—spare at first, then swelling like waves—until it settles into quiet memory. This song, like the season, is about waiting with trust: remembering storms, yet resting in hope that light will break into the darkness. Voces8 offers a powerful interpretation of it which I have included here.

Sigur Rós is an Icelandic post‑rock band formed in Reykjavík in 1994, known for their ethereal sound. Their name means “Victory Rose.” Singing in Icelandic and their invented “Hopelandic” language, they rose to international fame and have sold millions of albums worldwide. Sigur Rós remains celebrated for turning Iceland’s landscapes and spirit into sound that feels both deeply local and universally transcendent.

The original lyrics for Fljotavik are in Icelandic. Here is the translation:

We look over the rudder
Cut off the sea
We sail by the mast
Stretch the sails
We steer towards the bridge

We sail ashore
Up on the large rocks and the sand
We wade ashore
What a mess

There I found myself
Endlessly thanking
Sheltered in a makeshift house
And we slept
As the storm died down

VOCES8 is a British vocal ensemble formed in 2005. Admired not only for their artistry but also for their role as cultural ambassadors, they bring choral music to diverse audiences and work to nurture the next generation of singers.

Visit their WEBSITE

Prayer Reflection: A Prayer for Joy in Our World

“But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.” (Luke 2:10-11)

Lord, the good news of Jesus’ arrival brings such joy to our world! Reach those who are lost and searching with the message of hope that we have through the Messiah. God, allow your message of peace to bring comfort to our anxious world. As we all go about the holiday season, let the message of great joy pierce through all the noise and into people’s hearts. Amen.

Source: Crosswalk: Third Sunday of Advent: Gaudete Readings and Prayers for Lighting the Candle. Retrieved 6 December 2025.

Faithful Conversation Updates

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

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK:

John’s Doubt and Our Own:
1. In Matthew 11, John the Baptist—once so certain—now wrestles with doubt in prison. How does his questioning help us understand the role of doubt in faith, especially during Advent, when we wait with both hope and uncertainty?

John as the Symbol of Advent:
2. Jesus calls John “more than a prophet,” the one who prepares the way. In what ways does John’s life—his courage, his suffering, his pointing beyond himself—embody the meaning of Advent, and how might his witness challenge the way we live out our own waiting today?

THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365
READING CHALLENGE

Monday 8 December: Judges 4-5, Psalm 71
Tuesday 9 December: Judges 6-8, Psalm 72
Wednesday 10 December: Judges 9-12, Psalm 73
Thursday 11 December: Judges 13-15, Psalm 74
Friday 12 December: Judges 16-18, Psalm 75
Saturday 13 December: Judges 19-21, Psalm 76
Sunday 14 December: Ruth 1-4, Psalm 77

Here is a LINK to the full Bible 365 Plan!

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

Reflections On Malawi: Part 3

Pastor Jenny Hatleli

7 December 2025: 2 Advent

“When we suffer from amnesia, every form of serious authority for faith is in question, and we live unauthorized lives of faith and practice unauthorized ministries.” (Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination)

Spurred by Pope Leo’s recent travels, Creeds have been on my mind this week. In the rush of headlines—and our constant focus on domestic politics—most Americans overlook international stories. Yet Pope Leo XIV’s visit to Turkey this week — his first international trip as Pope — drew attention back to the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea. On November 28, he joined Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I and other Christian leaders in Iznik (ancient Nicaea) for an ecumenical prayer service at the ruins of the Basilica of Saint Neophytos, where the Nicene Creed was recited as a sign of unity. The Pope urged Christians to overcome “the scandal of divisions” and called for dialogue across faiths. Just days earlier, on November 23, he issued an apostolic letter, In Unitate Fidei (“In the Unity of Faith”), underscoring the enduring power of the Creed to unite Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestants. His visit blended historical commemoration with a broader appeal for reconciliation and peace. Imagine if we focused more attention on stories such as these!

So, a reminder regarding creeds. In our Lectionary discussion last Sunday, we touched on the difference between creedal and non-creedal churches. Creedal traditions — i.e. Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, Lutheran, Presbyterian — formally affirm and often recite the Apostles’, Nicene, and Athanasian Creeds as authoritative summaries of faith, preserving unity with the ancient church (sidebar: In the ELCA, we say the Apostles’ Creed often, and the Nicene Creed occasionally. I cannot recall ever reciting the Athanasian Creed during worship, but that is a topic for another day). Non-creedal churches, by contrast, reject binding creeds, insisting on Sola Scriptura (“Scripture alone”) and often relying on local statements of faith. Many Baptist, non-denominational, and Restorationist congregations embody this stance, wary of elevating human words above God’s Word. Lutherans, however, have always been shaped by creeds. From the Reformation onward, Luther and his followers held fast to the three aforementioned creeds, while also writing their own confessions — like the Augsburg Confession and Luther’s Catechisms — later gathered in the Book of Concord. These creeds and confessions gave Lutherans a shared voice, safeguarded core truths about God and Christ, and distinguished them from both Catholicism and non-creedal movements. Walter Brueggemann’s opening warning rings true here. As Lutherans, we use creeds to resist amnesia, keeping memory alive and connecting us with generations of saints before us. History, yes, is important.

Thanks for your continuing interest in studying the Bible and exploring the Revised Common Lectionary! Following up from last week, my reflections will focus on the Isaiah passage. I’m also including a unique interpretation of a familiar Advent hymn, a prayer from Pope Leo XIV, and the second excerpt of an interview with Pastor Jen regarding her trip to Malawi.

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

The readings for 2 Advent share strong themes of hope, justice, and preparation for God’s coming reign. Isaiah 11 envisions a shoot from the stump of Jesse—a messianic figure filled with God’s Spirit who will bring righteousness, peace, and harmony to creation. Psalm 72 echoes this vision, praying for a king who rules with justice, defends the poor, and ushers in flourishing and peace. In Romans 15, Paul ties this hope to Christ, urging believers to live in harmony and welcome one another, showing that God’s promises extend to both Jews and Gentiles. Matthew 3 introduces John the Baptist, who calls people to repentance and readiness for the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire. Together, these texts highlight God’s promise of a righteous ruler, the call to communal justice and peace, and the urgent need to prepare our hearts for Christ’s coming.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for 2 Advent.” Copilot, 29 November 2025, Copilot website.

A Strategy for Reading

The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages. This is something my son Jake shared with me while attending West Point in the early 2000s (a history class), and I have used it with my students ever since. Give it a try this week!

  1. What is something NEW you learned?
  2. What is something that made you REFLECT?
  3. What is something that RELATES to prior knowledge?
  4. What is something you would like to further DISCUSS?

Focus Passage: Isaiah 11:1-10

11 A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse,
    and a branch shall grow out of his roots.

The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,
    the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
    the spirit of counsel and might,
    the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.

His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord.
He shall not judge by what his eyes see
    or decide by what his ears hear,
but with righteousness he shall judge for the poor
    and decide with equity for the oppressed of the earth;
he shall strike the earth with the rod of his mouth,
    and with the breath of his lips he shall kill the wicked.
Righteousness shall be the belt around his waist
    and faithfulness the belt around his loins.
The wolf shall live with the lamb;
    the leopard shall lie down with the kid;
the calf and the lion will feed together,
    and a little child shall lead them.
The cow and the bear shall graze;
    their young shall lie down together;
    and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,
    and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.
They will not hurt or destroy
    on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord
    as the waters cover the sea.
10 On that day the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples; the nations shall inquire of him, and his dwelling shall be glorious.

Isaiah
by Michelangelo (1475-1564)

A reminder: Keep in mind that the Psalm included among the lection each week is meant to echo or be a commentary on the Old Testament passage — certainly true this week!

Reflections: Prophecy in Context, Promise for Today

Hezekiah showing off his wealth to envoys of the Babylonian king (Vicente López Portaña, 1789)

Isaiah’s voice rings out again in Year A of the lectionary, and one can almost hear the thunder in his words: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.” He is speaking into the late 8th century BCE, a time when Judah was caught between empires and living under the shadow of Assyrian domination. The northern kingdom of Israel had already fallen to Assyria in 722 BCE, and Judah itself was vulnerable, its people anxious about survival and the future of David’s royal line. Into this moment of fear and uncertainty, Isaiah proclaimed hope: that from the “stump” of Jesse — the family line of David — new life would emerge. For Isaiah’s first hearers, this was not a distant messianic dream, but a promise tied to their own history, a vision of King Hezekiah whose reign brought reform, renewed trust in God, and a measure of peace even in the face of overwhelming threat. (Sidebar: Everything didn’t go well for Hezekiah. After recovering from an illness, King Hezekiah proudly showed Babylonian envoys all the treasures of his palace and armory. The prophet Isaiah rebuked him, warning that this display of wealth would lead to Judah’s riches and even his descendants being carried off into exile. This story, found in 2 Kings 20:12–19 and Isaiah 39:1–8, highlights the danger of pride and misplaced trust in human powers rather than in God).

Jesus Reading from Ancient Texts (A.I. generated 2025)

Fast forward several centuries. First generation Christians (many of whom were raised within Judaism) heard these words from Isaiah differently. They did so because their world had been reshaped by the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, which reframed ancient promises in light of a Messiah who had already come rather than one still awaited. As Christians, we cannot help but hear these words through the lens of Jesus, the one who embodies wisdom, justice, and peace in ways that surpass any earthly king. Yet we must pause and honor how Jewish hearers would not have seen Jesus here; their longing was for deliverance in their own time, not centuries later. For them, Isaiah’s vision resonated with hopes for national restoration and relief from oppression, not the inauguration of a new covenant. That tension reminds us that prophecy is always heard in context, and that God’s word speaks differently across generations. In our own day, these same words continue to meet us in fresh ways — sometimes as a call to justice in our communities, sometimes as comfort in seasons of loss, and sometimes as a reminder that God’s promises are larger than any single moment. Prophecy, then, is not a static prediction but a living word.

And so, what is the takeaway for those of us in the Christian community today? Isaiah’s vision is not just about a ruler, but about a transformed world. For his original audience, the images of wolves lying with lambs and children playing safely near wild animals were not fanciful but deeply symbolic: they represented the end of violence, the undoing of fear, and the restoration of creation to harmony under God’s reign. In a society where survival often depended on strength and where predators were a constant threat, these pictures of peace would have sounded almost unimaginable — a radical reversal of the way things were. For Christians, the imagery points us toward Christ, who breaks down hostility and calls us into a kingdom where reconciliation is possible. In our own fractured time, Isaiah’s vision invites us to imagine what life could be if God’s justice truly reigned — a peace that defies division, a hope that steadies us, and a call to bring this hope to those we meet along the path.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Note: I am indebted to Cory Driver of Miami University in Ohio for his interpretation of this passage from 2022, accessed from the Working Preacher website, sponsored by Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. You can read his essay here.

We will explore this passage further in our Sunday Lectionary group using the discussion questions included in the Faithful Conversations update below.

Advent Hymn: Come Thou Long Expected Jesus

Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Charles Wesley, principal founder of Methodism, wrote Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus in 1744, moved by both Scripture and the social needs he witnessed in England. Drawing on passages like Haggai 2:7, he framed Christ as the “dear desire of every nation, joy of every longing heart,” capturing the universal hope for a Savior. The hymn was first published in Hymns for the Nativity of Our Lord and later gained wider recognition when Charles Spurgeon quoted it in a Christmas sermon in 1855. Over time, it became a beloved Advent hymn across denominations. Its enduring power lies in its dual focus: remembering Christ’s birth in Bethlehem while anticipating His future reign, making it both a prayer of longing and a declaration of hope. (Hymn 254, ELW). Enjoy this unique version from Celtic Worship — feel free to sing along!

LYRICS

1. Come, thou long expected Jesus,
born to set thy people free;
from our fears and sins release us,
let us find our rest in thee.
Israel’s strength and consolation,
hope of all the earth thou art;
dear desire of every nation,
joy of every longing heart.

2. Born thy people to deliver,
born a child and yet a King,
born to reign in us forever,
now thy gracious kingdom bring.
By thine own eternal spirit
rule in all our hearts alone;
by thine all sufficient merit,
raise us to thy glorious throne.

Celtic Worship” is an authentic expression of sung worship deeply rooted in the sound and traditions of Scottish music. As a collective of some of Scotland’s finest contemporary musicians, they share a deep desire to use their skills and giftings to praise and make known Jesus Christ. Exploring psalms, hymns and new songs, their uniquely powerful pipes-and-fiddle-led sound communicates the full range and depth of the Gospel (from their website).

Visit CELTIC WORSHIP

Prayer Reflection from Pope Leo XIV

Holy Spirit of God, you guide believers along the path of history. We thank you for inspiring the Symbols of Faith and for stirring in our hearts the joy of professing our salvation in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, consubstantial with the Father. Without him, we can do nothing. Eternal Spirit of God, rejuvenate the faith of the Church from age to age. Help us to deepen it and to return always to the essentials in order to proclaim it. So that our witness in the world may not be futile, come, Holy Spirit, with your fire of grace, to revive our faith, to enkindle us with hope, to inflame us with charity. Come, divine Comforter, source of harmony, unite the hearts and minds of believers. Come and grant us to taste the beauty of communion. Come, Love of the Father and the Son, gather us into the one flock of Christ. Show us the ways to follow, so that with your wisdom, we become once again what we are in Christ: one, so that the world may believe. Amen.

Excerpt from Pope Leo’s Apostolic Letter, In Unitate Fidei, commemorating the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea, November 2025. I included a link to the full letter in my introduction this week.

Faithful Conversation Updates

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

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK:

1. How does understanding Isaiah’s prophecy in its original 8th-century BCE context — with Judah under Assyrian threat and hopes tied to King Hezekiah — change the way we as Christians interpret it through the lens of Jesus?


2. Isaiah’s vision of wolves dwelling with lambs and children safe among wild creatures symbolized a radical reversal of fear and violence. What might it look like for us today to embody that same vision of reconciliation and peace in a world still fractured by division?

THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365
READING CHALLENGE

Monday 1 December: Deuteronomy 32-34, Psalm 64
Tuesday 2 December: Joshua 1-4, Psalm 65
Wednesday 3 December: Joshua 5-8, Psalm 66
Thursday 4 December: Joshua 9-12, Psalm 67
Friday 5 December: Joshua 13-21, Psalm 68
Saturday 6 December: Joshua 22-24, Psalm 69
Sunday 7 December: Judges 1-3, Psalm 70

Here is a LINK to the full Bible 365 Plan!

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

Reflections On Malawi: Part 2

Pastor Jenny Hatleli

Since 1999, the Northwest Synod of Wisconsin and the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Malawi have been companions in ministry. Recently, several NW Synod representatives, including Pastor Jen Hatleli and Patti Whitworth from ELC, traveled there and met with many of our partners in the region. During Advent, I am posting excerpts from my interview with her about the trip. In our second exchange, she comments on how worship in Malawi challenged or deepened her understanding of faith.

30 November 2025: 1 Advent

Every culture is anchored in shared stories. They are the glue that binds people to their traditions, landscapes, and ancestors, carrying history and values across generations. Origin myths, religious texts, folk tales, and national narratives serve as collective memory, shaping how communities understand the past and orient themselves toward the future.(Richard L. Lechowick)

Richard Lechowick’s reflection on shared stories and collective memory articulates my reverence for the rhythm of the Revised Common Lectionary (RCL). This three-year journey through Scripture — embraced by many within the **catholic (see note below) Christian community — continues to shape worship and spiritual formation with its steady cadence of readings. The lectionary draws on two forces that form us at the deepest level: story and repetition. I grew up in the orbit of a storyteller — my father — who taught me to see the world through narrative. That lens still directs my teaching and mentoring, because story does more than entertain; it interprets our lives and reveals meaning in the ordinary. Each week, the RCL thrusts us into the greatest story ever told: the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We do not stand outside that story; we live inside it. Through repetition, the lectionary compels us to revisit this story from fresh angles each year. Its three-year cycle sweeps us across the breadth of Scripture, reminding us that faith grows from memory and renews itself in retelling. Story anchors us in the past, but it also illuminates the present, helping us discern who we are and how we belong to God’s unfolding narrative.

Thanks for your visit to this space again this week! There are several commemorations on the ELCA calendar this week, including three pastors from the Lutheran tradition on 24 November: Justus Falckner (1672-1723), Jehu Jones, Jr. (1786-1852), and William Passavant (1821-1894). Each has a compelling story, if you are interested to learn more. As with so many of those we commemorate, I had never heard of these three prior to now. (You will find all the commemorations on pages 14-17 in the front portion of the ELW).

Justus Falckner (1672-1723) became the first Lutheran and Protestant pastor ordained in what would become the United States. He preached, wrote hymns, and carried the Lutheran faith into the new land as a missionary.

Born into slavery, Jehu Jones Jr. (1786–1852) established one of the first African-American Lutheran congregations in the nation. He advanced the Lutheran presence by linking faith with social action, working tirelessly to improve the welfare of African Americans.

William Passavant (1821–1894) expanded Lutheranism’s reach by introducing the Lutheran Deaconess movement to the United States. Through this effort, he rooted Lutheran identity in service, creating institutions of care and social ministry that shaped American Lutheran life.

My reflections this week will center on the Isaiah reading. I’m also including a haunting Advent hymn, a prayer from this year’s Advent Devotional (ELCA), and the first installment of a conversation with Pastor Jen Hatleli reflecting on her recent travels to Malawi, Africa.

** My deliberate use of the word “catholic” in my introduction stems from a discussion within our Lectionary group on Sunday. The Inter-Lutheran Commission on Worship began using “catholic” instead of “Christian” in the Apostles’ Creed with the publication of the Lutheran Book of Worship in 1978. This change restored the original wording of the ancient creeds, where catholic meant universal rather than Roman Catholic. For centuries, many Protestant churches had substituted Christian to avoid confusion, but the ELCA chose to reclaim the historic language. By doing so, the church emphasized continuity with the early church and the ecumenical nature of the creeds. Today, the wording reminds worshippers that they belong to the one universal body of Christ, rooted in memory and renewed in retelling.

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

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


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

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

The First Sunday of Advent readings share a common call to wakefulness, hope, and holy anticipation. Isaiah envisions a future of peace where nations stream to the mountain of the Lord, while Psalm 122 invites us to rejoice in the promise of Jerusalem’s peace and unity. Paul urges believers to awaken from spiritual slumber and cast off the works of darkness, living honorably in the light of Christ. Jesus, in Matthew’s Gospel, warns of the unexpected hour of his coming, calling us to stay alert and ready for the inbreaking of God’s kingdom.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for 1 Advent.” Copilot, 19 November 2025, Copilot website.

The four-question approach to reading (NRRD) is a good way to take on Bible passages. This is something my son Jake shared with me while attending West Point in the early 2000s (a history class), and I have used it with my students ever since. Give it a try this week!

The word that Isaiah son of Amoz saw concerning Judah and Jerusalem.

In days to come
    the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest of the mountains
    and shall be raised above the hills;
all the nations shall stream to it.
    Many peoples shall come and say,
“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
    to the house of the God of Jacob,
that he may teach us his ways
    and that we may walk in his paths.”

For out of Zion shall go forth instruction
    and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations
    and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into plowshares
    and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation;
    neither shall they learn war any more.

O house of Jacob,
    come, let us walk
in the light of the Lord!

Isaiah
by Michelangelo (1475-1564)

Reflections: Isaiah and Jesus: Prophecy and Fulfillment

Mosaic of the prophet Isaiah (Venice)

Luther Seminary Professor Frederick Gaiser calls Isaiah “the longest and perhaps most important of the prophetic books, offering the full range of God’s prophetic message: terrifying words of judgment and comforting words of promise.” He’s right—Isaiah is not for the faint of heart.

Here’s some backstory. Isaiah, son of Amoz, lived in Jerusalem in the 8th century BCE and carried out his ministry in a time of political upheaval. He confronted kings head‑on, warning them against idolatry, injustice, and dependence on foreign powers as Assyria rose to dominance. His call came through a dramatic temple vision, and his message fused sharp judgment with enduring hope. Later generations expanded his legacy, weaving in words from the Babylonian exile and the return from captivity. Scholars divide the book into three movements: First Isaiah (1–39), addressing Assyrian threats; Second Isaiah (40–55), offering comfort and the Servant Songs during exile; and Third Isaiah (56–66), reflecting on rebuilding community and worship. Isaiah spoke with urgency in his own time, and his vision of justice and peace still shapes faith and history.

Jesus Reads from Isaiah

The Revised Common Lectionary draws heavily on Isaiah—Year A alone includes at least 24 readings, many during Advent. For Christians, Isaiah provides the essential backdrop for understanding the story of Jesus Christ. Recall that in the synagogue at Nazareth, Jesus read from Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor” (Isaiah 61:1–2; Luke 4:18–19). By choosing this passage, Jesus announced that Isaiah’s vision had come to life in him. Isaiah spoke of a servant who would bring good news, heal the broken, and shine light into darkness. Jesus claimed that mission and embodied it in his ministry. For Christians, this connection strikes at the heart of Advent: God’s promises echo through Isaiah and find their fulfillment in Christ, the one who brings freedom, healing, and hope.

The first of the Isaiah readings — 2:1–5 — speaks with urgency and hope. The prophet envisions the mountain of the Lord rising above all others, drawing nations together to learn God’s ways and walk in God’s paths. He then delivers a bold image of transformation: weapons hammered into tools for planting and pruning, war exchanged for peace, destruction turned into life. These twin themes — universal invitation and radical peace –summon us to walk in the light of the Lord and embody reconciliation in a fractured world. As Walter Brueggemann reminds us in The Prophetic Imagination, the prophets confront the dominant culture with a sharp alternative — a counter-vision. Isaiah’s vision still cuts through the noise of our age, and his call remains powerfully relevant as we enter Advent in 2025. Let our journey begin.

Soli Deo Gloria!

Advent Music: “Each Winter as the Year Grows Older”

1 Each winter as the year grows older,
we each grow older, too.
The chill sets in a little colder;
the verities we knew
seem shaken and untrue.


2 When race and class cry out for treason,
when sirens call for war,”
they over-shout the voice of reason
and scream till we ignore
all we held dear before.


3 Yet I believe beyond believing
that life can spring from death,
that growth can flower from our grieving,
that we can catch our breath
and turn transfixed by faith.


4 So even as the sun is turning
to journey to the north,
the living flame, in secret burning,
can kindle on the earth
and bring God’s love to birth.


5 O Child of ecstasy and sorrows,
O Prince of peace and pain,
brighten today’s world by tomorrow’s,
renew our lives again;
Lord Jesus, come and reign.

“Each Winter as the Year Grows Older” is a haunting hymn written in 1969 by William Gay, with music composed by his wife Annabeth McClelland Gay, and later arranged and popularized by liturgical composer Marty Haugen. The text reflects on the passage of time, human struggle, and the hope of Christ’s coming, making it especially fitting for Advent and Epiphany seasons. Its tune, Carol of Hope, carries a somber yet expectant tone that underscores themes of lament and renewal. Haugen’s arrangement, recorded on his Night of Silence album, helped bring the hymn into wider use across Catholic and Protestant congregations, where it continues to resonate as a prayerful meditation on faith, memory, and the promise of God’s love.

Even when we trip over our good intentions, O God, guide our days this Advent season. Give us confidence and hope in this time of waiting and empower us to carry your message of love to all the world. Amen.

Source: “Devotions for Advent and Christmas, 2025-26.” (Augsburg Fortress).

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

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION THIS WEEK:

1. We’ve all been shaped by stories that get told again and again—family stories, community stories, even songs we grew up with. The Revised Common Lectionary works the same way, pulling us back into the story of Jesus week after week. How have you noticed this rhythm of repeated readings shaping your own faith?

2. Isaiah warned leaders not to put their trust in foreign powers or idols but to return to God’s justice. In our own time—when we lean so heavily on technology, political systems, or economic security—how might we recognize the ways we’ve misplaced our trust? What could that look like, day to day?


Reflections on Malawi

Pastor Jenny Hatleli

23 November 2025: Christ the King Sunday

John O’Donohue
(1956-2008)

“Think for a moment how, across the world, someone’s life just changed – irrevocably and permanently – and everything that once was so steady, so reliable, must now find a new way of unfolding.” (John O’Donohue)**

Celtic mystic John O’Donohue’s opening quote reminded me that liminal moments forever fascinate me — those times when we are “here” but will soon be “there” — in a different space. Richard Rohr, Franciscan priest, defines those moments as “any hiatus between stages of life, faith, jobs, loves, or relationships. It is that graced time when we are not certain or in control, when something genuinely new can happen … it is the ultimate teachable space.” As I look back on over four decades of teaching and coaching, it is clear to me that has always been the hook — the opportunity to work with young people in a liminal moment when hope and exciting possibility are “unfolding.” What a great privilege that is.

The Gospel for Christ the King Sunday brings us into the ultimate liminal moment. At Golgotha, Jesus enters the remarkable threshold—suspended between heaven and earth, life and death. Time slows as eternity draws near. Between two criminals, one mocks while the other sees clearly and pleads, “Jesus, remember me.” In that moment, Jesus responds with grace: “Today you will be with me in paradise.” The cross becomes a doorway, not just to death, but to redemption. Here, God meets us in our suffering, not from above but within it, offering not just forgiveness, but presence. This liminal moment reveals the heart of the gospel—mercy at the edge of death, hope rising in the shadow of despair. It makes perfect sense to me that the authors of the Lectionary would choose this moment for the final Sunday in our church year.

The Liturgical Calendar

Thanks for your visit here again this week! As mentioned, we mark the end of the Lectionary cycle (Year C) during these late days of November. Christ the King Sunday was established by Pope Pius XI in 1925 as a response to the chaos of post–World War I Europe, where secularism, fascism, and communism were on the rise; the Pope’s encyclical Quas Primas proclaimed Christ’s reign as a source of peace, justice, and unity beyond political power — a timeless affirmation. Originally observed in October, Pope Paul VI moved the feast to the final Sunday of the liturgical year in 1969 to highlight Christ’s cosmic sovereignty (in line with changes brought by the Second Vatican Council). In the 1980s and 1990s, many Protestant churches—including the ELCA after its 1988 formation—adopted Christ the King Sunday through the Revised Common Lectionary, which placed it just before Advent. This shift marked a move toward greater ecumenical unity and theological emphasis on Christ’s reign as the culmination of the church’s annual journey. My reflections this week will focus on the Colossians passage, with a musical offering inspired by the Gospel, and a contemporary prayer of confession written for Christ the King Sunday.

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

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


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

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

The readings for Christ the King Sunday proclaim a vision of divine kingship rooted in justice, mercy, and cosmic reconciliation. Jeremiah foretells a righteous king who will gather and shepherd the scattered, embodying wisdom and justice. Psalm 46 declares God as a steadfast refuge amid chaos, while Colossians exalts Christ as the cosmic center—through whom all things were created and reconciled. In Luke’s Gospel, Christ reigns paradoxically from the cross, offering forgiveness and welcoming the repentant thief into paradise, revealing a kingdom founded not on domination but on sacrificial love.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 23.” Copilot, 13 November 2025, Copilot website.

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

11 May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, so that you may have all endurance and patience, joyfully 12 giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. 13 He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, 14 in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, 16 for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers—all things have been created through him and for him. 17 He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. 18 He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come to have first place in everything. 19 For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, 20 and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.

Saint Paul
Rembrandt (1606-1669)

Check out this overview of Colossians from the Bible Project!

Ancient Turkey

A fascinating window into the world of the first-generation Christians, Colossians was written by the Apostle Paul (or a disciple of his) in c. 60–62 CE during his imprisonment in Rome, addressing a young church in Colossae facing theological confusion and turmoil.

Traders and travelers shaped Colossae — a small city in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey) — into a diverse hub, blending pagan beliefs, Jewish legalism, and emerging mystical philosophies. Though Paul had not personally visited the Colossae Christians, he was responding to reports from Epaphras, a local leader and companion of Paul’s, who warned of false teachings — later termed the Colossian Heresy — that threatened the community’s understanding of Christ. (Sidebar: Epaphras is mentioned three times in the New Testament: Colossians 1:7-8, 4: 12-13, and Philemon 1:23 and is an intriguing character in his own right).

Paul writing from Prison (A.I. generated)

This week’s reading from the first portion of the letter is a remarkable passage that stopped me in my tracks — and is entirely fitting for Christ the King Sunday. In verses 11-14 Paul urges the Colossians to draw strength from God’s glorious power so they can endure with patience and joy. He calls them to live in gratitude, knowing God has qualified them to share in the inheritance of the saints. God has rescued them from the grip of darkness and placed them firmly in the kingdom of his beloved Son. In Christ, they don’t just find comfort—they receive full redemption and the radical forgiveness of sins. This truth anchors their identity and equips them to stand firm against every false teaching (the Colossian heresy). Good words for us to hear this week.

And then we arrive at this extraordinary piece of prose from the pen of Paul — verses 15-20. As noted by New Testament scholar Jennifer S. Wyant in her 2022 commentary on this passage, “These verses contain some of the highest Christology in the whole New Testament.” Think of Christology as the study of Christ’s divine and human nature, along with an exploration of how he reveals God, fulfills the role of Savior, and reconciles creation through his life, death and resurrection. Biblical scholars, in fact, assert that these verses contain an early creedal statement voiced by first-generation Christians, and provide a window into the evolution into their understanding of Christ’s identity. Can we possibly improve on it?

Face of Christ
Claude Mellon, 1649

Finally, Wyant makes an important observation as to WHY these words from more than two thousand years ago instruct and inspire us in 2025 — that is, Paul’s near rhythmic use of the word ALL within the nine verses (I marked them in the passage above). This “creates a deep sense of confidence in who Christ is,” she says. “Nothing is outside of Christ. There is no situation that the Colossians might face that Christ is not already there . . . And so over and over again, we see Paul assure this congregation: Christ is in all. All has been forgiven. All will be well. Forever.” Sit with those words for a few minutes. What a beautiful close to our Lectionary readings for this church year — good words for us to carry into Advent! We have arrived at a liminal moment.

Soli Deo Gloria!

As noted above, I am indebted to Jennifer Wyant for her analysis of Colossians 1: 11-20. You may read that in full at here. Her commentary is among those found at the Working Preacher site sponsored by Luther Seminary in St. Paul, MN.

“Jesus, Remember Me” emerged from the Taizé Community in France, an ecumenical monastic movement founded by Brother Roger to promote reconciliation and peace. Composed by Jacques Berthier in 1978, the chant reflects Taizé’s commitment to simple, meditative prayer that transcends language and denomination. Its text—drawn from the words of the penitent thief in Luke 23:42 — embodies the community’s focus on mercy, humility, and hope. Designed for repetition, the chant invites worshippers into a shared contemplative silence, often sung in candlelit gatherings. As with many Taizé songs, it fosters unity through music that is both accessible and spiritually profound.

The chant “Jesus, Remember Me” by Jacques Berthier is known for its simplicity and meditative repetition. The lyrics are:

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

This line is sung repeatedly, often in a Taizé-style prayer setting, allowing worshippers to enter a contemplative rhythm.

Jesus said,
“My realm is not of this world.”


And yet, we confess, sometimes we still get seduced by the values of empire:
wealth and power and glory.

Loving God, you see us as we are.
You know our secret battles and all the ways in which we fail to live out your call upon our lives.

Never give up on us, God.
Use us, even in our brokenness.
Forgive us and renew us.
Help us to enthrone you in our lives. Amen.

Source: Confession for Christ the King Sunday by Cara Heafy, an ordained Minister in the United Reformed Church, UK.

Jesus Statue in Świebodzin, Western Poland

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

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

1. How does Paul’s repeated use of the word “all” in Colossians 1:11–20 shape our understanding of Christ’s cosmic role and presence in everyday life?

2. Why is a high Christology—emphasizing Christ’s divinity, creative power, and reconciling work—essential for grounding Christian identity, especially in times of transition like Advent?

3. In what ways does the cultural and religious diversity of Colossae mirror the complexities of our own communities today—and how might Paul’s message guide us through theological confusion or competing worldviews?

One more thing . . . .

Check out this story from the Lutheran World Federation regarding the Lutheran Church in Myanmar.

Member Churches of the LWF

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.

9 November 2025: Pentecost 22

Martin Luther (1483-1546)

“It appears to me as if the world itself were approaching its end and, as the Psalmist says, is waxing old. … So there is nothing to hope for, except the day of our great God.” (Martin Luther, 1544)

This week’s lectionary readings—especially Jesus’ bold affirmation that God is “not of the dead, but of the living,” and Paul’s steadying words to the Thessalonians—draw us into the deep waters of eschatology, that rich and unsettling branch of theology that ponders the ending days. Martin Luther, like many before and after him, felt the tremors of history and believed Christ’s return was near. In fact, in the late 1520s, as the Ottoman Empire pressed into Europe, he feared he might not even finish translating the Old Testament before the world unraveled! This foreboding seemed to stay with him for his remaining years, as noted in the opening quote. I remember my own brush with apocalyptic awareness: eighth grade, 1970, a classroom moment when I learned the U.S. had over 30,000 nuclear weapons—enough to erase the Soviet Union several times over, and they could do the same to us (I remember thinking, “why do we need to be able to destroy them many times?”). Today, the specter of Artificial Intelligence has taken up residence in our cultural imagination, whispering new versions of the old fear: that we may be the architects of our own undoing. As always, there is much to fear in our stormy times!

Many who are reading this were born and raised in the Lutheran tradition. The ELCA — our particular branch of this tradition — invites us to live with bold hope, trusting that Christ’s resurrection is not just a past event but the heartbeat of God’s future for the world. Instead of fear or speculation, we’re called to see the end as a horizon of justice, peace, and renewal—where God’s promises come alive. Scripture’s visions of the last things aren’t blueprints to decode but poetic truths that shape how we walk through uncertainty with courage. This eschatology doesn’t pull us away from the world—it sends us into it, grounded in grace and ready to embody the reign that’s already breaking in. It’s a lot to think about.

San Martin de Porres
(1579-1839)

Thanks for your visit to this space again this week! Your interest in using the Revised Common Lectionary as a means of exploring scripture inspires me. And notably, November has been deemed Global Bible Month by three leading Bible Apps, including YouVersion which many of us are using with our Bible 365 Challenge. We have three Sundays remaining in Year C (through 23 November) and this week, among others, we commemorate Martin de Porres, renewer of society, who died on 3 November 1639. His story is powerful. And, as I’m writing this, I’m reflecting on a tremendous worship experience that we shared on Sunday with the Ho-Chunk UCC, Little Norway, and Spirit Creek. It is truly humbling and empowering to use the language of faith as a means of healing centuries of brokenness with our Indigenous brothers and sisters! Thanks to all involved!

My reflections this week will focus on the 2 Thessalonians passage, continuing the theme of our view of the final days.

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

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


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

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

The readings for Pentecost 22 share a deep longing for resurrection, justice, and divine presence amid suffering and uncertainty. Job declares hope in a living Redeemer, while the psalmist seeks refuge in God’s face and protection from harm. Paul urges steadfastness in the face of confusion about the end times, and Jesus affirms that God is the God of the living, not the dead. Together, these texts invite believers to trust in a future shaped by divine faithfulness, even when the present feels fractured or unclear.

“Describe the common themes among the readings for Pentecost 22.” Copilot, 1 November 2025, Copilot website.

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

Concerning the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our being gathered to him, we ask you, brothers and sisters, not to become easily unsettled or alarmed by the teaching allegedly from us—whether by a prophecy or by word of mouth or by letter—asserting that the day of the Lord has already come. Don’t let anyone deceive you in any way, for that day will not come until the rebellion occurs and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the man doomed to destruction. He will oppose and will exalt himself over everything that is called God or is worshiped, so that he sets himself up in God’s temple, proclaiming himself to be God. Don’t you remember that when I was with you I used to tell you these things?

13 But we ought always to thank God for you, brothers and sisters loved by the Lord, because God chose you as firstfruits to be saved through the sanctifying work of the Spirit and through belief in the truth. 14 He called you to this through our gospel, that you might share in the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. 15 So then, brothers and sisters, stand firm and hold fast to the teachings we passed on to you, whether by word of mouth or by letter. 16 May our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and by his grace gave us eternal encouragement and good hope, 17 encourage your hearts and strengthen you in every good deed and word.

Paul’s Second Missionary Journey, 49 CE

Thessalonica was a thriving port city in Macedonia, strategically located along the Via Egnatia—the major Roman road linking east and west—which made it a hub of commerce, culture, and political influence. As a Roman provincial capital with a diverse population of Greeks, Romans, and Jews, it was an ideal place for Paul to plant a church during his second missionary journey (49-52 CE). He preached in the synagogue for three Sabbaths, and despite facing opposition, his message took root among both Jews and Gentiles. Forced to leave prematurely, Paul later wrote 1 and 2 Thessalonians while in Corinth (50-51 CE) to encourage the fledgling community, clarify teachings about Christ’s return, and strengthen their faith amid persecution. (Sidebar: Paul’s authorship of 2 Thessalonians is disputed and it could have been written by one of his co-workers, Timothy or Silvanus). The city’s vibrancy and volatility made it a powerful setting for Paul’s eschatological reflections and pastoral care.

As pointed out in the Lutheran Study Bible, a good framework for understanding the correspondence between Paul and the Thessalonian believers is to realize that in his absence, three questions seemed to be swirling and remain relevant in 2025: “Can we trust this guy? If God is truly Lord of all, why are we who worship this God still suffering? Why is Christ’s return taking so long, and what will happen to those who die before he comes?” (LSB, page 1842). That third question seems to be at the center of 2 Thessalonians.

Via Egnatia (Roman Road utilized by Paul)

In 2 Thessalonians 2:1–5, Paul urges believers not to be shaken or alarmed by claims that the Day of the Lord has already come. He explains that certain events—like the rebellion and the revealing of the “man of lawlessness”—must happen first and reminds them that he had already taught them this. Then, in verses 13–17, Paul shifts to encouragement, thanking God for choosing them for salvation through the Spirit and truth. He calls them to stand firm, hold fast to his teachings, and be strengthened in every good word and deed, offering comfort and hope in the face of confusion and fear.

What should we take away from this portion of the letter? First, it is clear that we should not be shaken by false claims about the timing of Christ’s return. The author suggests that certain events (a rebellion, a revelation of a “man of lawlessness,” both rather vague and applicable to many situations!) must precede the Day of the Lord. People have twisted themselves into knots over these kinds of predictions throughout history, and we can get caught up in that as well. Second, the author reminds the community that they are chosen by God and called through the gospel to share in Christ’s glory, affirming their identity and purpose. As spiritual descendants, this is WHO we are and WHY we are! Rather than spending our time fretting over the end times, a healthier approach to life is to do what we can right here and right now — a practical approach to justice. Action is a great counter to anxiety about the future. Finally, there are great words of encouragement for believers in the final verses — one of many pep talks we find in Paul’s letters — check out Romans 8:18, 2 Corinthians 4:17, 1 Thessalonians 4: 13-18, and Galatians 6:9 if you need a lift today!

Soli Deo Gloria!

While preparing this week’s blog, I stumbled on a commentary on the passage from 2 Thessalonians by Nijay Gupta. In it, he referenced R.E.M.’s It’s the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine), a 1987 offering that feels like a snapshot of late-1980s chaos—fast, fragmented, and overloaded with pop culture. Hearing the song took me back to that period and my students from those days. The lyrics come at you fast and the ironic “I feel fine” tag line offers a sense of “shrug” in the face of a world that seems to be coming apart. I post it here as an example of the post-modern angst that many seem to feel in our own time — and is played out in so many ways.

R.E.M. emerged from Athens, Georgia in the early 1980s and quickly became one of the defining bands of alternative rock. Known for their jangly guitar sound, cryptic lyrics, and Michael Stipe’s distinctive voice, they blended post-punk energy with Southern introspection. Their early albums like Murmur and Reckoning built a cult following, while later releases such as Out of Time and Automatic for the People brought mainstream success with hits like “Losing My Religion.” R.E.M.’s music often wrestled with themes of identity, politics, and existential angst, making them both a voice of their generation and a bridge between underground authenticity and global influence.

(Information garnered from Co-Pilot, 1 November 2025)

Thomas Merton’s Prayer of Trust is included in his 1956 book, Thoughts In Solitude, and is a heartfelt confession that he doesn’t know where he’s going, but he’s trying to follow God anyway. It’s honest, raw, and speaks to that deep uncertainty so many of us feel in a world that often seems disconnected and chaotic. In the postmodern era, where truth feels slippery and meaning gets drowned out by noise, Merton’s words remind us that even the desire to please God is enough. His prayer offers a kind of spiritual anchor—a quiet trust that cuts through the confusion and says, “You’re not alone in this.” I offer it as a counter to the sentiments expressed in the R.E.M. song.

Thomas Merton
(1915-1968)

Join us for some free-flowing conversation about the Lectionary readings each Sunday. We meet from 10:45-11:30 in the church library each week, with some exceptions. No prior knowledge is necessary! ALL ARE WELCOME! And, let’s discuss the Gospel reading for Sunday (Luke 20: 27-38) alongside the Second Reading from 2 Thessalonians — why are they offered together in the RCL readings for Sunday?

And, one more thing: this offering from Pew Research regarding our religious landscape is worth your time. I found this analysis of young people and religious beliefs especially interesting.

2 November 2025: All Saints Sunday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Soli Deo Gloria!

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

‘A Prayer’ by Alfred Noyes

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

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

**Information from the Voces8 Website

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

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

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

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

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

THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365
READING CHALLENGE:

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

Here is a LINK to the full Bible 365 Plan!

The Bible 365 Challenge!

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

26 October 2025: Reformation Sunday

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

“Holy Hill” in Black River Falls, Wisconsin

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

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

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

Augustine Meditating on the Trinity” by Guercino (1663)

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

Jeremiah 31: 31-34

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

John 8: 31-36

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

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

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

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

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

Soli Deo Gloria!

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

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

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

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

The Lyrics

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luther’s Seal

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

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

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

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

THIS WEEK’S BIBLE 365
READING CHALLENGE:

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

Here is a LINK to the full Bible 365 Plan!

The Bible 365 Challenge!

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

19 October 2025: Pentecost 19

Introduction to Readers

Martin Luther
(1483-1546)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Common Themes Among the Readings

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

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

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

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

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

1960s Lutheran Humor, ala Charles Schultz

Psalm 121
A Song of Ascents.

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

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

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

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

Beth Jacob Cemetery, Finksburg,
Carroll County Maryland

Reflection: A Psalm for the Journey

Martin Luther

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

The Continental Divide National Scenic Trail

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

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

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

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

Soli Deo Gloria

A Musical Offering: Wayfaring Stranger

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

From the VOCES8 website:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faithful Conversations Updates

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

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

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

The Bible 365 Challenge!

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