El Shaddai
Stop
Today we look at a second name used to describe God from our recent readings in Genesis. El Shaddai.
Listen
When Abram was ninety-nine years old, the Lord appeared to Abram, and said to him, “I am God Almighty; walk before me, and be blameless. 2 And I will make my covenant between me and you, and will make you exceedingly numerous (Genesis 17:1-2).”
Reflect
God describes Godself to Abram by saying, “I am God Almighty.” What images does that phrase bring to your mind? For me, the term almighty denotes power. I see a superpower rising up above the earth, looking down on everything. That’s an image I would not want to mess around with or get angry.
That is how the vast majority of theologians have imagined the “God Almighty” throughout the centuries. Here is the sad, and frustrating, truth. They’ve been wrong about this word.
The Hebrew term being translated is El Shaddai. We learned in the previous devotion that El means spiritual being (god). Shaddai is a term that can mean either, a) breast, like a mother’s breast ready for nursing, or b) mountain, like the place you go for refuge when in trouble (think “head for the hills!”), or c) both breast AND mountain.
What if Genesis 17:1 was translated, “the LORD appeared to Abram and said to him, ‘I am the well-breasted one, the mountain refuge, who supplies all you need for food, shelter, and comfort; walk before me, and be blameless.” How might that translation change our image of God?
The men (emphasis on masculine exclusivity) who translated the Hebrew Bible into Greek were not comfortable with this feminine and maternal image of God, so they chose the Greek word kurios, or Lord, to translate Shaddai. Later, Jerome translated the Greek into Latin and continued the distortion, leading to our English translation “Lord God Almighty.”
I think the world needs El Shaddai back. I know I could use a God that offers the comfort of a mother’s breast and mountains of refuge in these disturbing times. How about you?
Pray
El Shaddai, we long for your comfort and refuge. Grant us the courage to reimagine you as more than a distant, exalted King. Amen.
Carry On
My hope for you today is that you can head for the hills and find comfort in God today. No matter how scary our world may seem, God’s faithfulness, love, and nurture is always present.
Elohim
Stop
What is in a name? Do you know the meaning of your name? This week we will look at three names that have been used to describe God so far in our study through Genesis. Today we’ll look at Elohim.
Listen
So God created humankind in his image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them (Genesis 1:27)
Reflect
The English word God in this verse is translating the Hebrew word Elohim. What is really fascinating about this word is that it is plural. The word El is the generic term for any spiritual being in the ancient world. Every tribe worshipped its own particular El. Adding ohim to El—Elohim—is to say many Els.
The verse says, “Elohim created humankind in his image.” The word his is a singular pronoun. So, which is it? Is El a single spiritual being, or multiple spiritual beings?
The answer…yes.
This seeming contradiction is the starting point for how the Bible presents the infinite mystery of God—or the ultimate reality. It is beyond our comprehension, to be sure. What does it mean? How can we understand it?
Before you throw up your hands and walk away, claiming that it is too confusing, let’s look at the rest of the verse to get a clue about Elohim.
It says that Elohim created humans in Elohim’s image…male AND female Elohim created them.
There is our first clue to one aspect of God. Elohim, god, the ultimate reality, is not a singular being in the universe. The image of Elohim is the relationship between the male and female. Humanity itself is not uniform. There is variety in gender, race, personality, etc. We are created by the plurality and relationship of Elohim to be in a dynamic, pluralistic relationship with each other and all creation.
Chew on that today.
Pray
Elohim, creator of this vast and complex universe, may we reflect your image today in the way we interact with every person, animal and creature we encounter. Thank you for the gift of life. Amen.
Carry On
Dear reader, may you enter the next moment of your life knowing that you are loved by love itself and created to be in relationship with everything around you.
You Are My Gift
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “You are my gift.” As you breathe out say, “I treasure you.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
“Thou and thou only, the first in my heart, great God of heaven, my treasure thou art.” – Be Thou My Vision, ELW #793
Reflect.
When we sing our faith, whether in a hymn or a praise song, we get to say things a little differently than we might normally express ourselves. In particular, some older hymns use turns of phrase or poetic devises that make us think about what we believe and why in a new way.
In this classic hymn, we express that God, God alone, stands in the place of greatest priority for us. It expresses the first commandment (you shall have no other gods) in beautiful, accessible language. God only, God first, God who has made all things – this God is all I treasure. Nothing else takes that place. The hymn even expresses, “Riches I heed not, nor vain, empty praise” – I pay no attention to these other things that might dominate my life. God comes first.
When we sing this reorganization of our priorities, it gives us space to consider how we might actually live that out. Singing our faith reaches our heart in a way that words along might not. We feel inspired to live out this full trust in God and daily, intentional choice to put all other priorities far behind worship and adoration of our one God. We put the things we treasure in service of the God who is our true treasure. It serves as both reminder and invitation that God gives all we need and is all we need.
Pray.
God, I have everything I need because of you. I put you first in my life. Thank you for the opportunity to put everything you’ve given me – money, talents, time, relationships, and more – in service to you and the world you so love. It is my joy to treasure you alone. Amen.
Carry On.
What simple reminders can keep you focused on God as your sole source of joy and hope? Is there a daily action, like prayer or meditation? Can you start a pattern of weekly or monthly financial giving? Can you set aside time to regularly spend your time in service to church or community?
You Guide Me
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “You guide me.” As you breathe out say, “I trust you.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
“Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the waters, wherever You would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior.” – Oceans, Hillsong United
Reflect.
Trust is a tough thing. We say we trust God but too often act like everything depends on us. Our sermon series this fall focuses on stories from Genesis where our ancestors in faith do just that. They hear God, they trust God, and then they act like they never knew God in the first place and must do everything all on their own. It doesn’t usually go well. Over and over, God breaks in and sets things right all over.
When we live and act in fear, scrambling to try to make a way for ourselves all on our own, we don’t tend to listen for where God calls us and act accordingly. It’s why I love singing my faith in the words of the praise song “Oceans”. It recognizes that so much of our life takes place in dangerous, unknown places, as if we’re walking across deep and stormy waters. Worse yet, we’re often out in these risky places because we’ve followed God’s call into this place of uncertainty and risk.
Trusting God doesn’t mean living a sheltered, stable life. As this song reminds me, we follow God out into these places where we feel uncertain, vulnerable, and exposed. We follow God, and that means we don’t only look out for ourselves. We trust that God defends us even in the deepest of waters, and boldly act and serve however it is God has called us.
We trust God, knowing that we’re freed to love and serve our neighbor, to use our money and time freely, and to even set aside our own constant desire for control and security. We are freed from our fears and self-interest, freed to follow God, free for love and service without limit.
Pray.
God, I raise my voice to praise you, singing always of my trust for you. Even when you lead me places I’m uncomfortable or unsure, I know you will guide me. Thank you for taking me where I’m most needed, where your gifts can serve others through me, and where my faith can be made even stronger in your presence. Amen.
Carry On.
How has fear held you back from serving and giving exactly as God calls you? How can you let go of that fear and step out in faith?
You Give Life
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “You give life.” As you breathe out say, “I share your gifts.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
“We, your servants, bring the worship not of voice alone, but heart; consecrating to your purpose ev’ry gift which you impart.” – Lord, Whose Love In Humble Service, ELW #712
Reflect.
I love how the Lutheran faith tradition sings its beliefs. Since the Reformation over 500 years ago, Lutherans combined theology, devotion, and Biblical learning with music so that we could sing our faith. Pay attention to the words you sing in worship, whether in contemporary or traditional style. These songs aren’t just songs. These songs give you an opportunity to raise your voice in hope and praise. They also help you learn more about what we believe and why.
I remember this hymn from my childhood. The second verse always stuck with me, as it reflects on how many suffer even though God’s many gifts exist among us. It frequently brought me to tears with its heavy reminder that we bear the responsibility of loving our neighbor with everything God has given us and our neighbor needs our love dearly.
When I sing this hymn, I feel revived and renewed. It encourages me to truly use what God has given me to the glory of the church and the comfort of my community. I hear that same instinct at work in so many here at Easter. Over and over, Easter people reflect on their gratitude for the important work this church does for others in Christ’s name. Just like the hymn says, we consecrate (that is, dedicate) to God’s purpose (that is, the love of our neighbors) every gift that God imparts to us (that is, every single thing we have).
What a joy to not only sing what I believe in the community of faith but to put those beliefs into action!
Pray.
God, you have indeed given me all things. Thank you for entrusting these gifts to me. Send me out into your world so that I might share your generous gifts with any who need your love and care. Amen.
Carry On.
What would it look like to bring worship “not of voice alone, but heart”, as the hymn says? How can you really live your faith today?
The Circle
Stop
Think of a time you experienced the pain of being excluded from a group or social circle. Maybe you felt your worth as a person was missed or discounted? What gifts might you offer to others if they would be more open to you? Now think of a time you have felt seen and included by others. How did that make you feel? In what ways have you included others? In what ways have you excluded others?
Listen
Reflect
I recently read Learning that Heals and Helps, a guide aimed at encouraging difficult but worthy discourse within the Christian community. It offered, “The people of God have never had all the answers to life’s questions, but we proceed in worshipful trust and obedience toward God, depending on each other for care and comfort as we interpret God’s will for us in the present situation.”
Sometimes the forces that keep us apart feel greater than the forces that bring us together. Even as members of one faith community, a sense of distance reinforced by skepticism and distrust can leave us feeling isolated and exhausted. Local pastor and poet Meta Herrick Carlson writes,
This minimal coexistence is physically exhausting
because it is unnatural
to barely put up with one another,
to withhold care and curiosity,
to feign an unrelated distance when someone is hurting.
It requires a terrible kind of energy
to merely deal with someone,
to restrain your true self in their presence,
to manifest another narrative
about who they are that validates separation.
We are not built for mere tolerance
skepticism
fear
hate
disgust
indifference.
We are built for proximity in body and spirit,
to delight in God’s manifold image,
decorating each person with love that is natural
to honor, affirm, and celebrate.
Ephesians 2:14 reminds us that Jesus is our peace. Through Him we all have access in one Spirit to the Father. We are not on separate sides, but members of the household of God. Each of us has a place in Christ’s beloved community complete with unique journeys, authentic stories to tell, and contributions to offer.
This is a call to invite others in and to dare to bridge the distance. It’s a plea to return to Christ’s beloved community; an appeal to challenge ourselves to make the circle wider. To care for one another. To share grace. To build relationships. To experiment with new ways of engaging in difficult conversations. To seek understanding and resist the temptation to feign distance or create a narrative that validates separation. We have the perfect example in Jesus, who draws close and dismantles walls of division to honor, affirm, and celebrate each of us. In Him, we are built together.
Pray
Prayer for the human family (ELW, p. 79)
O God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son. Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred that infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and, through our struggle and confusion, work to accomplish your purposes on earth; so that, in your good time, every people and nation may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.
Amen.
A prayer attributed to Francis of Assisi (ELW p. 87)
Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.
Carry On
Take time to invite someone in this week. Share grace. Seek understanding. Build or repair a fractured relationship. The grace of God provides our belonging and our strength to meet the challenges of a sometimes frightening and divisive world. We are called to reach out and draw close with care and curiosity.
Peace and Peacemaking
Stop.
Close your eyes and repeatedly say the word “peace” either aloud (quietly) or in your head. Allow yourself to slow down, breathe, and center your thoughts.
Listen.
“…whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9).
Reflect.
As the apostle Paul is imprisoned and eventually executed, he teaches us that, if we want peace, we need to do whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, and commendable. In the book of Matthew, Jesus is speaking to a crowd and says, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” (Matthew 5:9).
What does peace mean to you? What does peacemaking look like in practice? In his recent book Portraits of Peace, Minnesotan author and photographer John Noltner works to shed light on peace and hope in America. He was disappointed with the increasing divisiveness of our world, so he set out on a 40,000-mile road trip across the country. Noltner interviewed people from all walks of life and asked, “What does peace mean to you?” His book is an opportunity to listen and hear stories from others.
Through his journey, Noltner moved outside of his comfort zone and into new territory. He started with a daring decision to sell his home and set out on a journey to meet people where they are. He encountered obstacles. He entered into difficult conversations. And he listened – not for what he wanted to hear, but for what people needed to say.
As Lutheran pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, “There is no way to peace along the way of safety. For peace must be dared. It is the great venture. It can never be made safe. Peace is the opposite of security…peace means to give oneself altogether to the law of God… Battles are won, not with weapons, but with God. They are won where the way leads to the cross.” Peace and peacemaking aren’t easy tasks. It’s asking you to be vulnerable, to listen, to move beyond the comfort and safety of the familiar.
So what do we do to be peacemakers in the midst of divisiveness and our own fears? We listen. We open ourselves to hear the stories others need to share with open ears and hearts even when it’s hard. We search for hope. We try because we believe in something better. A better, more peace-filled future and a community that chooses beauty, wisdom, and – above all else – love.
Pray.
“Grant, O God, that your holy and life-giving Spirit may move every human heart; that the barriers dividing us may crumble, suspicions disappear, and hatreds cease; and that, with our divisions healed, we may live in justice and peace; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” – Evangelical Lutheran Worship, p. 79
Carry On.
Join us on Wednesday evenings for “On the Road: We are not there yet. We are on the way together.” The study invites us to explore who we are. We’ll dig into God’s word, seek better understanding of the history of this church, and work to be open to new callings for mission and ministry. Visit easter.org/learning for details.
Standing Up for Something Better
Stop.
Close your eyes and think about a time when you stood up for something you believed in. Did it force you out of your comfort zone?
Listen.
“…This is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best.. Dare to speak the word with greater boldness and without fear.”
– Philippians 1:9-10a, 14b
Reflect.
The apostle Paul wrote a letter to the Philippians while imprisoned and awaiting execution. His crime? Preaching the gospel. It’s a joyful letter, which is unusual considering the circumstances. Paul has grace, gratitude, and joy because his imprisonment had the opposite effect his captures intended. He says, “…what has happened to me has actually helped to spread the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to everyone else that my imprisonment is for Christ…” (Philippians 1:12-13). Paul is encouraging the early followers (and us) to speak boldly and without fear.
With the rise of anti-Semitism in 1930s and 40s Germany, Lutheran pastor and theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a vocal critic of Adolf Hitler and Nazism. Although he was born into a comfortable lifestyle and hadn’t experienced injustice himself, Bonhoeffer spent time in the U.S. and witnessed racial injustice, segregation, and the church’s unwillingness to bring about change. He returned to Germany in the 1930s as Hitler and the anti-Semitic movement swept across Germany. Bonhoeffer understood that the church had a role and an obligation to stand up. He said “We are not to simply bandage the wounds of victims beneath the wheels of injustice, we are to drive a spoke into the wheel itself.” For his outspokenness, Bonhoeffer was imprisoned and eventually executed.
Although Bonhoeffer and the apostle Paul are extreme examples of speaking boldly and without fear, we can still learn from them.They dared to believe that something better is possible.Imagine daring to carry on the work of Jesus Christ with joy, compassion, and conviction.How might you dare to believe that something better is possible?Challenge yourself beyond your comfort zone and live your life so that it proclaims God’s love with boldness and without fear.
Pray.
A prayer by Ted Loder:
“O God of beginnings, as your Spirit moved over the face of the deep on the first day of creation, move with me now in my time of beginnings … I tremble on the edge of a maybe, a first time, a new thing, a tentative start, and the wonder of it lays its finger on my lips. In silence, Lord, I share now my eagerness and my uneasiness about this something different … and I listen for your leading to help me separate the light from the darkness in the change I seek to shape and which is shaping me.”
Carry On.
Join us on Wednesday evenings for “On the Road: We are not there yet. We are on the way together.” The study invites us to explore who we are. We’ll dig into God’s word, seek better understanding of the history of this church, and work to be open to new callings for mission and ministry. Visit easter.org/learning for details.
You Are My Rest
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “You are my rest.” As you breathe out say, “You grant me peace.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. – Matthew 11:28-29
Reflect.
If I’ve heard one thing from folks lately, it’s this: “I’m so tired.”
I get it. So much has changed about work, life, society, relationships, and expectations in the past 18 months, all while trying to negotiate a pandemic that forces us to constantly weigh issues of health and safety for things that used to be so simple and clear. When figuring how when, how, or even if to go to the grocery store means considering the health risks for you and your loved ones, you get a better sense of just why everyone is so tired.
I read from one of my devotions the other day, and in it, the authors quoted a poem by 17th century poet George Herbert called “The Pulley”. The author, who was also a minister in the Church of England, considers God’s creation of humanity. In the poem, Herbert thinks of God as pouring out abundant blessings onto humans but, at the last moment, choosing to withhold the gift of rest. “’For if I should,’ said he, ‘bestow this jewel also on my creature, / He would adore my gifts instead of me, / and rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: / So both should losers be.’”
In other words: God has designed us to need rest but to find rest outside our own gifts, skills, abilities, and blessings. We cannot assume that the things we do will grant us rest. We find rest beyond ourselves, and the only way to find that is to slow down and listen.
Just as telling someone to calm down typically makes them more anxious, telling an exhausted person to rest usually just makes them more tired. So I won’t tell you that. I’ll remind you that you were created to find peace and hope in God. I’ll remind you that God welcomes you into patterns of Sabbath and renewal. I’ll remind you that we all need to practice those things weekly, daily, even hourly. In God, we find true rest.
Pray.
God, I confess that I go pushing through my days as if I can make my way on my own. I remember that I need you. Grant me your gifts in abundance, especially the ability to rest in you, so that I can be truly renewed by your love and empowered to share that gift with others. Amen.
Carry On.
What would it look like to return to God today? What reminders do you need to look to God for rest?
I Release My Anxieties
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “You grant me grace.” As you breathe out say, “I release my anxieties.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
“You shall keep my sabbaths, for this is a sign between me and you throughout your generations, given in order that you may know that I, the Lord, sanctify you. You shall keep the sabbath, because it is holy for you; everyone who profanes it shall be put to death; whoever does any work on it shall be cut off from among the people. It is a sign forever between me and the people of Israel that in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, and on the seventh day he rested, and was refreshed.” Exodus 31:13b-14, 17
Reflect.
Go back and re-read that passage from Exodus and ask yourself how seriously God considers the commandment to rest on the Sabbath. You read that right: seriously enough that the punishment for not observing the Sabbath should be death.
I’m not arguing that we start enforcing this rule. I hope we can agree that it’s a rule that requires a little bit of nuance in modern society. But the intent remains: if God needed a day of rest, you need a day of rest. You need it so badly that refusing to recognize it will kill you.
Sabbath stands as one of the most counter-cultural commandments in Christianity. It insists that our worth is not in our output. Sabbath requires us to completely stop. We reevaluate who we are and who God calls us to be. We reconsider if what we’re doing with our time matches our faith and priorities. We step away from a system that insists you’re only worth what you can do and back into a system that assures you of the worth of your life simply because you have been created by God.
It’s really easy to justify not taking this break. We usually crave stability, not health, so it’s much easier to just keep doing what we’re doing no matter how poorly it functions. It’s one of the strange benefits of this pandemic era. We’ve all been forced to stop doing much of what we were doing. Now, as things restart and reengage, we all have the constant crisis: what do we return to? What value might be found in doing less and being more?
As you continue to ask these hard questions, I hope you can reprioritize Sabbath. For people of faith, Sabbath means rest as well as a return to God. It’s why the pattern of worship is engrained in Christian life. For at least one day in a week, we need to step out of the message that you have to do more and into worship and community, where you know you are valued just as you are.
Pray.
God, I praise you for the gift of the Sabbath. Work that gift in my life, not only for a day of rest and worship each week, but also that I would find small times for rest in my day and large portions for rest in my months and years. May I be renewed by these holy pauses so I may again rest in you. Amen.
Carry On.
You’ve got a few days until Sunday, the usual day for Sabbath in our tradition. How will you make it a day of worship and rest? How will you give it the priority that God intends?
In You I Find Rest
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “You are my worth.” As you breathe out say, “In you I find rest.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
Moreover, it is God’s gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil. I know that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it; God has done this, so that all should stand in awe before him. – Ecclesiastes 3:13-14
Reflect.
Just the other day, I flipped through articles from the New York Times on my phone. One opinion article had a particularly provocative title: “You Won’t Find The Purpose Of Your Life At Work” (Jonathan Malesic, published 23 Sept 2021). It felt pretty pushy to me, especially since I’d spent my life absorbed by a particular kind of midwestern work ethic where your ability to work hard directly correlates to your worth as an individual and in society. But considering the author’s byline described him as a “writer and a former academic, sushi chef and parking lot attendant who holds a Ph.D. in religious studies”, I figured I’d give it a try.
The article quickly grabbed me. Some of it was due to the quotes from interviews that interspersed the article where readers vowed they would never return to long work commutes, workdays that kept them from their families for 11 hours a day, or evening work emails ever again. After 18 full months of pandemic-affected work life, many of those points resonated with me, too. But the author’s own words spoke to me, too:
[Work is] how we earn dignity: the right to count in society and enjoy its benefits. It’s how we prove our moral character. And it’s where we seek meaning and purpose, which many of us interpret in spiritual terms… But work often doesn’t live up to these ideals. In our dissent from this vision and our creation of a better one, we ought to begin with the idea that each one of us has dignity whether we work or not. Your job, or lack of one, doesn’t define your human worth.
Maybe part of the effect of this article came from its resonance in our Christian faith. While we can find many reminders in scripture that it’s important to do your work, serve your role, and not be intentionally idle, we also find an overarching narrative that values rest, places human worth over societal expectation, and sees each member of the body as high value no matter what role they serve.
God did not intend for us to define ourselves by our work. Our identity is in God, not the work we do. The work we so should reflect and support the holy life to which God calls us. As America goes through what many call “The Great Resignation”, seeing huge shifts in work priorities, we are invited to reconsider who God calls us to be. How will your work support the true and full life to which God calls you instead of restricting your life and faith?
Pray.
God, you have given me value as your child, just as I am. Help me to understand the gifts and talents you give me so I can use them well. But even more, help me understand the full and vibrant life to which you call me. Grant me grace to say no so that I can say yes to your gifts of rest, relationship, and renewal. Amen.
Carry On.
What’s one boundary you can put on your work life today to experience greater fullness in your faith life?
God, you love me
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “I love you.” As you breathe out say, “God, you love me.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. – 1 John 4:12
Reflect.
“How do I know?” It feels like this is the real question behind every faith crisis of our lives. How do I know God goes with me? How do I know what God wants of my life? How do I know if I’m on the right path in my faith? How do I know if I’m treating people the way God wants me to treat them? With all these questions, God can feel distant. We can get lost as we seek absolute assurance. It’s almost like the more we look for something certain, the less certain we become.
It’s why I’m always grateful for Bible verses that try to keep things simple. It’s like a refrain that I can keep repeating, always going back to, reminding me what God is up to even when things feel messy and disconnected.
This verse from 1 John is one of them. How do we know where God is? How do we know what God is like? How do we know what God is up to? Love. The love we have for one another is how we see God, how we know God is at work through us, how we know God goes with us. When we live in a love that includes all, celebrates all, promotes life for all, seeks justice for all, we begin to see God among us.
It won’t be perfect. We’ll still have questions. We won’t always be sure. But God’s love at work in us – and our love at work in the world – will be the touchstone that keeps us grounded in who we are and whose we are.
Pray.
God, you are love itself. I want to live in your love without fear or reservation. Call me back to your abiding love. Send me out to love in your name. Let you love bring order and meaning back to my life. Amen.
Carry On.
What’s one tangible way you can love others today? Can you make a food shelf donation? Can you volunteer your time with one of our mission partners? Can you help a neighbor with yard work? Can you write a letter to a representative about an issue involving justice and equity? Let this act of love ground you today.
God, you see me
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “I hear you.” As you breathe out say, “God, you see me.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
Am I a God near by, says the Lord, and not a God far off? Who can hide in secret places so that I cannot see them? says the Lord. Do I not fill heaven and earth? says the Lord. – Jeremiah 23:23-24
Reflect.
In chapter 23 of Jeremiah, God speaks powerfully against people who claim to be prophets speaking for God. God condemns their lies and the way they mislead God’s people. God warns these people who speak for themselves and pretend it’s for God that they will not succeed.
The assurance God provides for knowing the truth of what is happening is that God is near, present no matter where you hide, filling all of creation. In other words, there is no place you can be where God cannot see and hear you. If you’re trying to manipulate others for your own power, abusing God’s name, you will be noticed and you will not succeed.
That sounds like a threat. And if you’re functioning out of a desire for your own power and control, it is. But for many of us, the promise of God’s presence, that there is no secret place that can hide you from God, grants comfort.
You are never without God’s presence. If others treat you unjustly, God sees it. If you experience disconnection and abandonment, you’re not alone. If you’re worried you’ve gone somewhere God can’t find you, don’t worry – that place doesn’t exist. There is no where you can go where you can’t find God and God can’t find you.
Pray.
Thank you, God, that you go before me into any place or situation. I praise you that you remain present in my life, even when I think I have strayed too far. Hold me, guide me, and comfort me, that I would rest in your presence and trust in your love. Amen.
Carry On.
Throughout history, believers have sometimes chosen to go to remote, removed places so that they can be away from others and closer to God. This can be a powerful reminder that God is present no matter how distant you might feel. Is there some way you can build that into your life this week? How can you get away – even if just for a little while – and be reminded that God is present with you even there?
God, you are here
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “Draw me in.” As you breathe out say, “God, you are here.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. – Psalm 139:5
Reflect.
It’s been a season of disconnections. Schedules are different. Social groups have shifted. Work and school have been disrupted. Sports and hobbies don’t happen like they did. The feeling of being lost, alone, or adrift plagues all of us. Those things that used to give shape to our lives don’t function in the same way. Even if we can appreciate lives less-scheduled and busy, we still might feel as if our lives are without form.
In my daily devotions last week, I read through Psalm 139. It’s a popular psalm because it focuses on God’s knowledge of us when we were barely even formed. Somehow, in all those beautiful reminders of God’s work creating me, I missed this one little verse. In verse 5, the Psalmist talks about God being in front of and behind us, surrounding us, so close as to have a hand on our shoulder.
I was particularly struck by this idea of God who hems us in. That verb can literally mean confine, a God who limits our space, a God who contains us and gives us boundaries. It’s not restrictive – it’s a good thing. The God who creates us also gives shape to our lives and direction to our days. God helps us know who, what, and when we are.
This idea gave me comfort. When I’m feeling lost, adrift, and disconnected, I can trust in a God who gives my life order, structure, and direction. God is always close to me, so close I can feel God’s own hand on me, and I am never alone. Praise God!
Pray.
God, when I feel lost, confused, and cut adrift, put your hand on my shoulder and remind me that you’re close. Help me see the boundaries and directions you have for my life. Grant me a sense of peace in this unsettled time as I continue to trust in you. Amen.
Carry On.
What people, places, or practices most help you God’s closeness? How can you connect with that this week?
Take a Sabbath
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “I rest in you.” As you breathe out say, “You are my peace.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
And on the seventh day God finished the work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all the work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation. – Genesis 2:2-3
Reflect.
Not only is rest part of God’s ingrained intention for creation, God further encoded it in the divine order. The instruction to rest on the Sabbath day is so central to who God calls us to be that God put it in the Commandments. And even though God made it part of the beginning of creation and made it even more vital as a commandment, it’s one of the pieces of our faith we’re most likely to ignore.
It’s not even about observing Sabbath as a day of worship and praise – although that’s definitely a huge part of it. It’s about the importance of rest and what it means for our trust in God.
When we rest, especially when we make rest a regular and integral part of our days and weeks, we remember that even God rested. What God did was enough. We are not more than or better than God. We were never meant to push on further and faster as if we could improve on what god already does among us. Instead, we take at least one day out of our week to pause, to stop our work, and to reorient ourselves to our Creator in worship, recreation, and rest.
When we refuse to rest, we deny ourselves the holy pause that God made for us as part of creation. We forget that rest isn’t indulgence or laziness, but a divine gift intended for renewal of ourselves, our souls, and our spiritual lives.
Pray.
God, you are my rest. Grant me peace. Give me confidence in you so that I can free myself from the need to do more and can instead trust that you are enough. I honor you in my Sabbath time. Allow me to grant that same freedom to others. Amen.
Carry On.
What would true Sabbath look like in your life? How can you make it part of your time this week?
Embody God
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “You have made me.” As you breathe out say, “You have made all things.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. – Genesis 1:27
Reflect.
Humans are notorious for missing the point. It’s why the phrase “can’t see the forest for the trees” exists. We’re looking so hard for what we think we need to see that we miss what is right in front of us.
This verse from Genesis 1 does exactly that to so many believers. Since we’re hearing from the book of Genesis throughout worship this fall, it’s worth looking at some of the smaller details that we might not get to dive into. While we already heard Genesis 1, some people might have heard this one detail and wondered why we didn’t say more. We talked about how the creation story affirms that we’re made in God’s image, but not the roles of men and women in that work.
It’s because it’s a red herring – it’s missing the point. The story isn’t about gender and whether one is better than another or even whether there’s a set number of genders. It’s about how the fullness of creation, including humanity itself, is made by God – and that humans in particular bear God’s own image. Naming male and female as two extremes still containing God’s image doesn’t exclude anything else.
Austen Hartke, a Christian theologian who speaks on faith, gender, and identity, notes that creation doesn’t say that only water or land was made by God. We all know that there is a lot in between land and water: marshes, beaches, floodplains, lagoons, estuaries, and all the beautiful shades of grey in creation. The same can be true for humanity. The point isn’t the binary structure or any sense of supremacy in it. The point is that it all belongs to God.
Hartke says, “Genesis 1:27 doesn’t give us any new words to help us understand the reality of human gender, but it does provide us with a theological concept. We are told that humans are made in the image of God—the imago Dei.”* And this image of God is the important part. God has made all things in integrity and goodness, and humanity most of all. We are not only creation. We bear the image of our Creator.
Don’t miss the point. The point isn’t us – it’s God.
* Quoted from “Nonbinary gender and the diverse beauty of creation” in The Christian Century on 16 April 2018: https://www.christiancentury.org/article/critical-essay/nonbinary-gender-and-diverse-beauty-creation
Pray.
God, it’s so easy for me to get distracted and caught up in what I think is important. Help me to see you instead. Show me how you’re at work in my life. Center me in your truth. Comforted that I am made in your image, send me to the fullness of your world. Amen.
Carry On.
How will you embody being made in God’s image today? How can you see that same image in others – especially someone you are not inclined to like?
Mystery of Creation
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “God, you are the Creator.” As you breathe out say, “God, I trust you.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. – Genesis 1:1-2
Reflect.
For the next few months, all our Sunday worship services will read from the book of Genesis. Genesis is a book of beginnings; in fact, the Hebrew name for the book of Genesis is bereshit, which literally means “in the beginning” – the very first words of this book.
One curious thing about the first lines of the book of Genesis is that they’re a little difficult to translate after those first few words. Depending on what you might like to think about how God created and what God did to create, you might translate those words a little differently. Notice how four other translations handle the words we just heard from Genesis 1:
· In the beginning God made from nothing the heavens and the earth. The earth was an empty waste and darkness was over the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was moving over the top of the waters. (NLV)
· In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was formless and empty, and darkness covered the deep waters. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters. (NLT)
· In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. (NIV)
· In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. (KJV)
It’s easy to get lost in the details. Did God create everything from nothing, or did God create from an existing chaos? How exactly did God move over the face of… well, what was even there for God to move over? What’s the timeline on all this?
While we could fight for ages on what, how, when, and which, notice more than anything else the subject of the verb, no matter what the verb. God is the subject. God is the actor. God is the one who does whatever it is God needs to do. Creation belongs to God, no matter how it happened, and we can trust God to handle the details.
Creation mattered to God then and still matters to God now. We might not always understand the shape of it, but our Creator does. We can trust God.
Pray.
God, sometimes I get confused by all the questions. Thank you for hearing me and granting me wisdom. When your work goes beyond what I can understand, help me to trust in you. Amen.
Carry On.
What’s one mystery of creation that you are going to name, recognize, and let go today? How does it help you trust in God’s continuing action in your life?
Remember
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “Your grace fills me.” As you breathe out say, “I share your mercy.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
Father, forgive.
Father, forgive the hatred which divides nation from nation, race from race, class from class.
Father, forgive our envy of the welfare and happiness of others.
Father, forgive the pride which leads us to trust in ourselves and not in God.
Father, forgive. Father, forgive.
Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another as God in Christ forgave you. Amen.
- Litany from “9/11”, written by Gabe Huck, music by Gregg Smith, commissioned by Saint Peter’s Lutheran Church, New York City, first performed on September 8, 2002
Reflect.
For generations of Americans, this day carries memories of fear, panic, and loss. Twenty years later, many Americans can remember exactly where they were and exactly what was happening when they heard the news of the day’s terrorist attacks, especially those horrifying images of the World Trade Center.
For many other Americans, there is no real-time memory of this event. They’ve heard about it in history books or from family members, but they were too old to remember the event – or they weren’t even born then. Instead, they’ve seen the continuing effects of that day: America’s longest war, innumerable veterans dying by suicide, and political instability at home and abroad.
Whoever you are, whatever you remember (or never knew) about this day, it will be marked in many ways throughout the country. The stories will be inescapable, and so will the opinions about what it means or what we should think.
It is my prayer that today you can hold tightly to the promises of our faith. We have a God who knows suffering and pain. We have a God who extends mercy to even the unrighteous. We have a God whose gift of grace makes us able to share compassion with others. We do not need to meet evil with rage, or aggression with attack, or judgement with superiority. We can choose love because our God has called it from us.
May that same love hold you today, no matter what the day and its news brings.
Pray.
God our creator, through whose providing care we enjoy all goodness and life, turn our eyes to your mercy in this time of confusion and loss. Comfort this nation as we mourn; shine your light on those whose only companion is darkness; and teach us all so to number our days that we may apply our hearts to your wisdom; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen. (From Evangelical Lutheran Worship)
Carry On.
Try to manage your media consumption today. Can you set aside your phone, go for a walk, meet outdoors with friends, or find other ways not to get consumed by the relived trauma of the day? How can you respect and mark the day without it overwhelming you?
Express Lament
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “I receive your peace.” As you breathe out say, “I cry out to you.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
Lord, Good Lord, hold us in your arms as we tear open the gospel’s hard truth. Is this the hour to trample down violence, to deny death any more lives?
To refuse false safety in walls and weapons, to beg of you Lord,
Courage enough to look at all that is amiss in our world?
- Litany from “9/11”, written by Gabe Huck, music by Gregg Smith, commissioned by Saint Peter’s Lutheran Church, New York City, first performed on September 8, 2002
Reflect.
Scripture is full of lament. The Bible bears witness to the full expression of pain, loss, and loneliness in human experience. I’ve often felt that it validates how often hard feelings dominate our lives as believers. Faithful followers throughout time have known anger, sadness, and hurt. I’m not doing something wrong as a Christian when bad things happen to me. It is simply a real and true part of life which I get to bring to God.
Twenty years ago, Christians deeply struggled with how to consider the tragic and terrifying events of September 11, 2001. Some tried to assign it to God’s wrath. Others used it as a reason to demonize other traditions and religions. Still others wondered if it meant that God had abandoned us, if God was ever with us at all. Truly, these hugely horrifying events can shake our faith and leave us reacting in ways we never could have imagined.
However, in the ages-old tradition of lament, many Christians found a way to faithfully express their needs and fears. In crying out to God, we claim that God still has power – and that power is ours as well. Instead of feeling helpless, we recognize our ability to act by God’s direction. Instead of feeling vindictive, we act in keeping with God’s grace. Instead of feeling hopeless, we act trusting that God hears us and will not deny our prayers.
It is my hope that you will hold the sacred act of lament as the anniversary of 9/11 nears, and with it, feelings of rage and pain. You don’t have to run from or justify these feelings. You can bring them to God.
Pray.
Gracious and holy God, lead us from death to life, from falsehood to truth. Lead us from despair to hope, from fear to trust. Lead us from hate to love, from war to peace. Let peace fill our hearts, our world, our universe; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen. (From Evangelical Lutheran Worship)
Carry On.
How do you want to express your lament to God, no matter what it is you grieve today? Sometimes writing can help. Give yourself ten minutes to write down your lament to God.
Act of Care and Service
Stop.
Take a deep breath. As you breathe in say, “Fill me with compassion.” As you breathe out say, “Send me to your people.” Repeat as many times as you need.
Listen.
Lord and lover of humankind,
Teach us to groan as you must groan, sudden mourners, all of us. Cry with us, instruct us in the language of lamentation.
For wars we thought were far away have snatched lives so near, Anonymous as our own, and dear as our own,
And what shall we do Lord, with all our might?
What are we to do?
- Litany from “9/11”, written by Gabe Huck, music by Gregg Smith, commissioned by Saint Peter’s Lutheran Church, New York City, first performed on September 8, 2002
Reflect.
Conversations about the 20th anniversary of the September 11th attacks feel different now following the withdrawal from Afghanistan. America’s longest war has ended, and in its wake, our news has been freshly filled with pictures of panicked crowds and desperate people. Eager to capitalize on tragedy, different voices from different sides rush to point fingers about who failed, who broke promises, who could have done better, all while real people suffer and real lives change. It adds suffering to suffering.
In the litany above, written in advance of the first anniversary of the September 11th attacks, the authors use the evocative line, “For wars we thought were far away have snatched lives so near, anonymous as our own, and dear as our own.” In other words: suffering we thought we could distance from ourselves has come near. We now realize that even our own lives can be written off as distant suffering made anonymous, when we know full well that these are real lives, real people, real grief.
This can make us feel helpless in the face of tragedy and loss. We might feel overwhelmed or helpless, whether the horror is twenty years ago or just last week. The truth we hold onto is that our God goes with us, we are not alone, and God calls us into meaningful action. There’s always something we can do. It might be as simple and accessible as prayer and lament. It might be acts of service and giving for your community to pay tribute to those you cannot serve. It might be something even bigger. But you can trust that God will point you to the work and has already given you what you need to do it.
We are not called to theoretical people. We are called to our neighbors, real people, whose suffering could just as easily be our own. The One who made us and defends us calls us to the side of any who need God’s comfort and care through our words, actions, and gifts.
Pray.
Eternal God, amid all the turmoil and changes of the world your love is steadfast and your strength never fails. In this time of danger and trouble, be to us a sure guardian and rock of defense. Guide the leaders of our nation with your wisdom, comfort those in distress, and grant us courage and hope to face the future; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen. (From Evangelical Lutheran Worship)
Carry On.
What’s one tangible act of care and service you can do this week instead of feeling hopeless or helpless? Nothing is too small.