Tuesday, October 7
Psalms 123 Be gracious to us O Lord... for we are greatly filled with contempt. (v.3)
In the 2017 film Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri one of my favorite actresses, Frances McDormand, plays Mildred, a bitter parent who lost her daughter by an unsolved rape-murder. Mildred’s anger soon becomes very public and at one point a priest visits to admonish her, to which Mildred responds by declaring the priest himself guilty by association—with pedophiles discovered in priesthoods.
Granted, any mother facing such unbearable devastation has a right to unfettered rage, at least I would agree. But as a friend also watching commented, Mildred’s contempt at the priest stretches logic. For which I also agreed. Because it would follow that everyone would then be guilty by association to companies, families, even cultures.
The film reminded me at how my own rage can steer off course and of James who warned the tongue is a “tiny member yet how great a forest it can set aflame.” When I have revenge it always feels sweet—but, ugly. Forgiveness, though far more difficult, brings a healing and a resolve that is different from revenge. It’s harder, but better.
2 Kings 22:1-13; Psalms 120, 121, 122; 1 Corinthians 11:2, 17-22; Matthew 9:1-8
Wednesday, October 8
2 Kings 22:14—23:3 “...because your heart was tender… I have truly heard you…” (v.19)
Ancient scripture is very clear that God chose Israel early on as a special nation. But the book of Kings clarifies time and time again that no one gets carte blanche, not even Israel. Ancient Israel was a pendulum. Bad king. Good king. Back and forth.
Today’s reading is one of the heart-warming ones. Josiah, a king at only 8 soon learns of the treachery of previous rulers. He tears his shirt in shame of the past to which God seems taken aback, is moved by the King’s humility and, consequently, promises to delay His wrath.
I recall an elder once saying that God is a person and that Scripture says we can grieve the Holy Spirit. It is profound to me that we can cause such a grief. But as today’s reading teaches it is also remarkably profound that repentance and humility can also move a loving God. And that possibly such a single person can even turn the tide of history.
Psalms 119:145-176; 1 Corinthians 11:23-34; Matthew 9:9-17
Thursday, October 9
1 Corinthians 12:1-11 Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit. (v.4)
A pastor once said that the reason there are so many people in the world is that God needs all of us to be able to fully express Himself.
There is something about the endless expressions that exists in nature—and in humans—that has always amazed me. There is the vast variety of plant life, of terrain, of weather throughout creation. Colors of the spectrum. The Chemical table. Even clothing design is endless. How many different ways are there to clothe a person?
How many different designs in architecture? And so, Paul suggest are our spiritual gifts. Endless, yet distributed “individually—just as God wills.”
I have a neighbor right now who is smart, good looking, immensely popular, engaging, inviting, curious, adventurous, and always celebrating other people’s gifts rather than being jealous or envious of them. I venture to say my neighbor unwittingly teaches, by example, precisely Paul’s message. Gifts are timeless and wonderful. My neighbor helps me want to celebrate them in others, and be grateful.
2 Kings 23:4-25; Psalms 131, 132, 133; Matthew 9:18-26
Friday, October 10
1 Corinthians 12:12-26 And the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you.” (v.21)
This year the US Chamber of Commerce reported there are 8.5 million job openings but only 6.5 million unemployed US workers. At the same time our southern border is brimming with immigrants facing an ironic political pressure to ward them off.
Today’s immigration is complex. But there is a sentiment reminiscent of wealthy Sodom and Gomorrah whose leaders reasoned: “Why should we suffer wayfarers, who come to us only to deplete our wealth? Come, let us abolish the practice of traveling in our land” (Sandhedrin 109a).
In contrast, Paul’s message is inclusive. That not only might I have different talents from others but, just as important, that I recognize my need for them. The antithesis being a spirit of superiority, discrimination, and disconnect which, apparently, the Corinthians wrestled with. Sodom and Gomorrah was a wealthy land of milk and honey but had natives who hated strangers. What I learn from Scripture is that I should not be so quick to disregard others. Not just for their sake. But for mine as well.
2 Kings 23:36—24:17; Psalms 140, 142; Matthew 9:27-34
Saturday, October 11
1 Corinthians 12:27—13:3 ...if I have all the faith so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. (v.2)
Scholars tell us that by Jesus’ time the faction between Samaritans and Jews was so strong Jewish travelers were said to cross over the river Jordan rather than pass through Samaritan territory. As one scholar put it “rather than contaminate themselves.” Even though Samaritans faithfully worshiped Yahweh they were considered heretical for various reasons. I can never hear today’s reading enough. It and Jesus’ parable of the good Samaritan are powerfully haunting.
I am capable of enough self-righteous indignation to believe anyone who doesn’t think the way I do is heretical-comparable. I have learned how to argue and be pretty good at it. My college education taught me how to support beliefs with research, scholars, and even ancient text. And frankly my epiphany left me so affected I feel at times to have the faith to move mountains.
But if my scholarship and lofty faith leads me to avoid “contaminating” myself with others, Paul says all that is for nothing. I am nothing. Certainly less than a selfless and caring heretic.
Jeremiah 35:1-19; Psalms 137, 144; Matthew 9:35—10:4
Sunday, October 12
Acts 14:8-18 Even in [the light of] these words they with difficulty prevented the people from offering sacrifice to them. (v.18 AMP)
Paul and Barnabas had a chance for power. The people wanted to crown them Hermes and Zeus, respectively. Even the top priest for Zeus brought animals and flowers to offer a sacrifice to them. They could have just run with this glory for as long as the people were fooled.
However, Paul and Barnabas made a big display of their disapproval of the people’s actions—they tore their clothing and began shouting that only the Almighty God could have performed the healing.
This story reminds me of the times I’ve run with “temporary glory” over something God accomplished through me; that people complimented me for. It felt good to be spoken well of and have people’s approval.
However, I am aware that any instrument of the Lord’s can be done away with. I believe that if Paul and Barnabas had begun to bask in the limelight of popularity, God would have withdrawn His power from them. I am a small vessel for the Lord, but even my God-inspired speech, written word, or action must be credited to the Holy One.
Jeremiah 36:1-10; Psalms 146, 147; Luke 7:36-50
Monday, October 13
1 Corinthians 13:1-13 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; now that I have become a man, I am done with childish ways and have put them aside. (v.11)
What was Paul thinking when he wrote to the Church at Corinth this line about giving up childish ways? Was he thinking about how he gave up playing marbles in the streets of the old neighborhood, pulling the hair of the girl-next-door, or occasionally skipping Hebrew class when he became an adult?
Paul wrote ten of the most powerful verses on godly love preceding this verse. I believe he’s talking about giving up adult “childish ways.” These are behaviors that do not promote the love of the Father. Things like gossip, retaliation, envy, strife, mockery, tit-for-tat attitude, or prejudice. Some of these are character traits we observed in our parents and chose to make them our own. Others we embraced because of personality deficiencies or past hurts.
These “childish ways” of doing things are different from the ways of a child, but they are still childish. Paul is encouraging the church and us to let go of old tendencies and embrace this new concept of godly love.
Jeremiah 36:11-26; Psalms 1, 2, 3; Matthew 10:5-15
Tuesday, October 14
1 Corinthians 14:1-12 Eagerly pursue and seek to acquire [this] love [make it your aim, your great quest].... (v.1a AMP)
As I write this piece, Mother’s Day approaches. A mother’s love is often held up as a standard of sacrificial love—somewhat like the love that Christ had for us. A mother pours her life into the lives of her children, often putting careers, hobbies, desires, and dreams on hold. If she’s done a good job, the children do leave and become contributing adults. The time spent with her children is sacrificial because they don’t stay and then pour their lives into hers.
The love Paul expresses in chapters 13 and 14 reflects what Eugenia Price wrote about in her book, Make Love Your Aim. She writes, “Making love our aim is quite simply giving God the freedom to act as He would act. We do not learn how to give God this freedom in a minute, even when we have decided to make love the aim of our life. Loving requires practice....” Just as mothering takes practice, loving others requires commitment to a long-term apprenticeship.