Thursday, March 31: Bob Simeone

You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free. - John 8:21-32

Some people just don’t get it. But what if you were like Jesus? What if everyone around you did not understand you? What if your closest allies did not get it?

We all want to be heard. We all need to be understood. But what if you could not get those basic wants and needs satisfied? What if your closest friends betrayed you at your most difficult moment? What if no matter how plainly you spoke, no matter how effectively you calmed yourself and explained the facts and circumstances to
the police officer, or the judge, or the jury, or the prison guard, or the executioner, none of them could understand you? What could be worse than that? What could be more frustrating?

The only thing worse than that would be abandonment. Abandonment not from your friends, not from your neighbors, but from the very person who brought you to life. Abandonment from your birth-giving Father. Jesus knew his father’s love for him. He knew his father secured a place for him in the Kingdom, but he wanted to continue to live on earth.

We are just as human as Jesus. Jesus, His Father, and the Holy Spirit have given us Grace. A future beyond time and space. But like Jesus, we are reluctant or hesitant to take the gift. We don’t get it, the disciples did not get, the Jews did not get it ... even Jesus struggled with the love of our Creator. His love is too simple, too deep, too unconditional for all of us to grasp.

—Bob Simeone

Wednesday, March 30: Rebecca Duffy

O that I had in the desert a traveler’s lodging place, that I might leave my people and go away from them! - Jeremiah 8:18-9:6

In this passage from the book of the prophet Jeremiah, the prophet bemoans for a place in the desert he can flee to get away from the evil that he sees among his people. His heart is sick and he doesn’t know how many more lies and deceitful or traitorous acts he can witness. But he stays because he has a calling and he has the conviction to trust in God, especially when he’s most afraid.

During this time of Lenten reflection, this prophet of the past reminds us all that God continues to speak—and He could be speaking to us much more than we realize, more than the people of Jeremiah’s land realized. We should take the time in our daily lives to listen more closely to those around us, to discern whether they might even be God’s prophets, trying to tell us something. Too often we ignore the signs right in front of us. This reflection exercise has been a good reminder that I should listen more closely to God’s word as it is expressed around me, no matter where it originates.

—Rebecca LaBrunerie Duffy

Tuesday, March 29: Vicki Williamson

"Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee." - John 7:37-52

Nicodemus was very courageous! He took a considerable risk in asking a question of his fellow members of the Pharisees and thus pointed to a legality that was not being carried out properly. Instead of complying with the law, Nicodemus’ fellow members chose to make a blanket accusation and reject his brave query. Their reading told them that no prophet would come from Galilee. That’s it. Don’t confuse us with the facts. End of story.

Oh, God, keep my mind “open for business” as did Nicodemus!

—Vicki Williamson

Monday, March 28: Joanna Fuller

What then are we to say was gained by Abraham, our ancestor according to the flesh? - Romans 4:1-12

A few weeks ago while watching the news, I saw a sobering item appear on the crawl: ‘OJ Simpson beaten in prison.’ While the report was later revealed to be false, I have to confess that seeing it, I felt a measure of satisfaction, much as I had when Simpson was arrested for robbery some years earlier. Both occasions granted me a sense of justice, a comfort that no matter how events in the world play out, what goes around really does, ultimately, come around. Rather than feeling compassion toward Simpson for the suffering he’d endured at the hands of a prisonmate, or sadness at how his life has unfolded, I was relieved—relieved that his actions had finally caught up with him, relieved to see him paying in some way for what he’d done, relieved to find that he couldn’t truly get away with murder, even if he’d escaped the more severe consequences that I believed he truly deserved.

But Paul’s letter to the Romans stands as a rebuke to my attitude. Like many Christians, I’ve read it many times and have been fairly certain I understood the theological teaching that we are justified by faith and not by works. I was pretty sure that I “got” the concept—that none of us is blameless, that we need a perfect Savior, that the only way we are made clean and holy before the Father is by the grace, mercy, and sacrifice of Jesus Christ. But my fixation on justice (or my interpretation of it anyway) is evidence that I hadn’t completely grasped the larger truth: that God, in His compassion for us, doesn’t give us what we deserve. He gives us what we need, if only we’ll trust in Him.

Paul reminds me that inasmuch as Abraham was called to be the father of the Jewish nation, not to mention the father of all believers, even he was far from perfect, particularly when standing before a holy God. Abraham displayed courage and obedience (Gen. 12:1-7, Gen. 14:14-24). On other occasions he demonstrated doubt and faithlessness (Gen. 12:10-20, Gen. 16:1-6). But it was neither his acts of obedience nor his shortcomings that God counted when regarding Abraham a righteous man—it was his willingness to believe in God and all that He promised (Gen. 15:1-6). God called Abraham righteous years before he called him to circumcision; circumcision was simply the outward manifestation of his belief.

It’s significant that Paul, of all people, champions this teaching. By his own account (Phil. 3:4-6), if anyone could feel they were justified according to the law, it would be him. He was a self-described ‘Hebrew of Hebrews’: he’d been circumcised on the eighth day, he was of the tribe of Benjamin, and he was a Pharisee, the order of Jewish adherents who strove to follow the law so closely as to be in a constant state of purity. What’s more, while Paul was from Tarsus, one of the most prosperous and prestigious cities in the Roman empire, he was raised in Jerusalem and studied under Gamaliel (Acts 22:3), the grandson of Hillel, one of the most famous rabbis of all time. Paul’s zeal for the law was so great, he viewed Christ’s followers as blasphemers and persecuted them, even to their death.

But on his way to Damascus (Acts 9:1-9), God appeared to him saying, ‘I am Jesus whom you are persecuting.’ For all his adherence to the law, it had led him to persecute God Himself. Despite his accomplishments and pedigree, Paul would later call himself the least of the apostles (1 Cor. 15:9) and acknowledge that only the grace of Christ had saved him.

So as we enter Lent and prepare to celebrate Easter, I’m moved by the fact that God doesn’t appear to be nearly as preoccupied with justice as I’ve been. When I stand before him, he doesn’t catalog my flaws and misdeeds (not even the really, really ugly ones). Instead, he looks at me with unspeakable tenderness. He’s able to see beyond my actions to the struggles that drive them. He wants to attend to my healing, not to my punishment, and he extended that grace to me long before I made any outward demonstration of faith.

Mark Fuhrman, the detective who investigated the OJ Simpson case, was recently interviewed by Oprah Winfrey. Toward the end of the interview, Oprah asked him what he would say to Simpson today, if he could interview him. Fuhrman’s reply was surprising. He told Oprah the first thing he’d say would be, “‘I know you didn’t mean to kill two people and I know you didn’t go there for that.” He then said he’d want to find out what happened, and how Simpson got caught up in the events of that evening.

Over the years, I’ve had mixed feelings about Fuhrman’s own character and actions. But whatever I think of him, I’m humbled by the fact that this person, who knows far more about the case than I ever will, whose life has been forever changed by it, and who has far more right to comment on it than I, could have such a  thoughtful and compassionate answer. As horrific as he believes Simpson’s actions to have been, he’s not blinded by his desire for justice. He can see beyond the actions through to the pain and pathology that must have driven them.

Throughout the Bible, we encounter a God who not only sees and understands our pathology, but who wants to heal it. His promise is that while we can never earn salvation through works of the flesh, good works will  result as the natural outpouring of our salvation by faith. As I allow God to transform my heart, I’m not only freed to become the person He intended me to be. I can begin to truly see others not with a judging eye, but with the grace and compassion that’s been shown to me. What’s more, as I grasp my own brokenness and healing, I have the amazing chance to play a part in God’s work, and to be used by Him to help others experience that same forgiveness and peace. May God heal us all.

—Joanna Fuller

Sunday, March 27: The Third Sunday in Lent

"Salvation is from the Jews." - John 4:5-42


I imagine Jesus, sitting next to that ancient well in the hot, midday sun. Tired, hungry and thirsty, he was waiting there for his disciples to return with bread for their journey. Having no bucket, he was unable to draw water from that deep, cool well. Yet suddenly, right there in the middle of the day, a Samaritan woman came to draw water. Jesus must have been startled – no one draws water in the heat of the day. But there she was – the woman with the bucket. Jesus is forever telling us that God provides.

I imagine the Samaritan woman making her way to the well in the heat of the day. She always goes for water at this hour, as she knows she won’t encounter anyone. Her life has been a series of disasters, so she’s shunned by the people around her, and she is tired from the shame and the shunning. She must have been startled when she came upon this man sitting at the well, and even more startled when he spoke to her. He was a Jew; she, a Samaritan. Jews don’t engage with Samaritans. He was a man, she was a woman. Men and women don’t talk with each other without the presence of other men related to that woman. He wants a drink. That doesn’t make any sense to her. And when she says so, he gives the strangest reply. "If you knew the gift of God, if you knew who I was, you would ask me for the water that quenches every thirst."

If you knew…

How often have I questioned all the ways things don’t make sense and can’t get right and all the while Jesus was right in front of me, offering me the living water that quenches every thirst and fills my every need?

Gracious God, give me eyes to see you and ears to hear you in the many and varied circumstances of my life. Amen.

—The Rev Karen Haig

Saturday, March 26: Charles Rus

Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. - Romans 3:19-31

When we stand for the Gospel at every Eucharist and listen to the words of Jesus, my feeling is often one of awe, respect, and love for this compassionate man who overflows with love for everyone. His words often go straight to my heart, and my mind doesn’t find a need to engage in an argumentative way, the way it does with some other Bible readings. I know what Jesus is saying is true. I feel it deep down. I long to be compassionate as he is, non-judging, accepting of what I am given in life, easy or hard. I long to share what I have with abandon, and to stop worrying and simply be grateful.

When I take Jesus’ message to heart, and try, even in the smallest way, to live and love as he did, I am living the mystery of faith in Christ. Belief in something other than truth is not faith. Faith is acting, in any given moment, from my heart, remembering I am Christ.

- Charles Rus

Friday, March 25: The Annunciation of Our Lord

And [the angel Gabriel] came to [Mary] and said, “Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. - Luke 1:26-38


Many things can be said about this well-known passage from Luke’s gospel writings. What speaks to me at this time is Mary’s call to discipleship and her very human, but remarkable, response. In reflecting on the writer’s words, I find that this passage can serve as a powerful model for helping us respond to changes or surprises in our lives that knock us off our feet. It is most often in these times that we receive God’s call to discipleship, which if we can respond just a little like Mary, we can come closer to knowing that we too are favored by God and that He is surely with us.

Following the angel’s greeting to Mary, the writer tells us that she was “much perplexed” by his words and she was afraid. Mary then questioned the angel, asking how his message could possibly come to be. What perfectly normal human reactions to such an event – fear, followed by questions. Change, especially when it comes quite unexpectedly, or any unanticipated event, can be very scary, and as normal, thinking people, our natural reaction is to question how and why.

But this is where Mary points us away from our fear and headlong into trusting God’s call to surrender, even when our questions aren’t answered and we don’t understand the how or the why. When the angel told Mary not to be afraid, she took him at face value. My guess is that Mary became very present to what was happening in that moment, and in so doing, she sensed in her heart that this was God’s call to something incomprehensibly wonderful, even though it surely would present many difficulties and painful times in her life.

Of course, we too are called to surrender to God’s call in our daily lives and most especially at the scariest times in our lives. We always have a choice, to let the fear take us over and respond to the situation from that constricted place, or to open up to the knowledge that the Lord is surely with us, no matter how little we can see or understand God’s providence at work. As Brother David Stendel-Rast writes: “There is grace in every package, no matter how ugly the wrapping.” Our work is to accept the package when it is delivered (even while sitting with our questions and our fear), and through faithful prayer, to surrender to the knowledge that whatever the package brings, God is with us. By opening up to God’s inexorable grace in every situation, something miraculous and truly wonderful can unfold in our hearts.

—Zonnie Breckinridge