Daily Reading for May 1 • The Ascension

Jesus, having fulfilled his earthly mission, went to the Mount of Olives, took leave of his mother and the disciples, and ascended from there to his Father in heaven. It was his final act on this earth, but it was an act that opens to us, his followers, endless possibilities, for Jesus did not return to the Father alone. Through the mystery of the Incarnation, Jesus assumed all of humanity into himself, and now all of us are part of him. As the doors of the kingdom of heaven opened wide to receive the triumphant Lord, the whole of redeemed humanity was also being received and accepted by the Father. The feast of the Ascension celebrates not only Jesus’ glorification by the Father, but also the Father’s acceptance of each one of us. Jesus opens heaven to us, makes it our destination and permanent home, where one day we will also be received into the warm embrace of a loving Father.

From A Monastic Year by Brother Victor-Antoine, quoted in Wisdom of the Cloister: A Monastic Reader, edited by John Skinner (Image Books, 1999).

Daily Reading for May 2 • St. Philip and St. James, Apostles

The last time we see Philip is in that great passage at the Last Supper, when Jesus was preparing his disciples for what was about to come. . . . In spite of all that Jesus had taught them, Philip asked for more: “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus’ response must have been filled with genuine frustration and sadness as he asked, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” We may think of Philip as a slow learner to have been with Jesus for three years without understanding that he was in the presence of God, but the idea that the Messiah was both man and God was a radically foreign concept to first-century Jews. We owe Philip a debt of gratitude for his dogged inquisitiveness, because Jesus’ response to him has blessed Christians for twenty-one centuries: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father” (John 14:1-9). . . .

In time, these words must have worked their way into Philip’s consciousness. It is generally accepted that he became one of the great missionary preachers of Asia, and was martyred for his faith in the Roman-Greek city of Hierapolis in Phyrgia. There are many legends about Philip, but there is considerable doubt that any of them are true. The only other mention of him in Scripture is that he was part of the group that met in the upper room in Jerusalem after Jesus’ ascension. . . . Philip had a long way to go when he first encountered Jesus, but the invitation to come and follow began a remarkable pilgrimage through which his life was transformed by the grace of Jesus.

From “Philip, the Careful Realist” in The First to Follow: The Apostles of Jesus by John R. Claypool, edited by Ann Wilkinson Claypool. Copyright © 2008. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 3

The other apostle named James has been referred to as “the lesser,” “the less,” or “the younger” (Mark 15:40). We don’t know as much about this disciple as we do the others, because his name is mentioned in Scripture only a few times, and each time it is part of a list. All we know besides his name is that he was the son of Alpheus. Since Matthew was also the son of a man named Alpheus, many scholars believe that Matthew and James were brothers. They were both natives of Capernaum, from the northwestern shore of the Sea of Galilee. We know nothing more about this particular disciple, so he is a symbol to me of all the wonderful unsung heroes and heroines whose names are forgotten in spite of their great efforts and accomplishments. . . .

James, the son of Alpheus, will always have the honor and distinction of having been chosen by Jesus to be his apostle. I like to think of him as one of those special people who have the kind of humility to do whatever they can quietly, without any need to call attention to themselves or be recognized. We all know people like this, and we usually like them for their gentle, dependable, and steadfast ways. They usually show up to help when there is a job to be done, or someone in need, without asking much in return. Thus I think of James “the less” as James “the humble,” ministering in an unassuming way, concerned only with doing God’s will whether or not he got credit or praise. The world needs people like this even more than it needs leaders.

From “James and James, the Greater and Lesser” in The First to Follow: The Apostles of Jesus by John R. Claypool, edited by Ann Wilkinson Claypool. Copyright © 2008. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 4 • The Seventh Sunday of Easter: The Sunday After Ascension Day

The good news of God is trapped in competitive Christianity. Yes, we know we are supposed to reach out with the gospel. And surely we are meant to spread Christ’s love throughout the earth. But, there are too many steeples to keep painted. Too many church lawns to be mowed. We spend ourselves in maintenance! Let’s take a case in point. A few years ago there was a town in West Virginia—a little more than five thousand people. Yet they had twenty-seven churches there lined up in a row. So when the Presbyterian church bought a new mimeograph, every church wanted a new mimeograph. And when the Methodists picked up an opaque projector for their education program—a kind of opaque projector lust spread through the community. But, that same year, you could take a plane to New York City and drop in on a tiny church down near the Brooklyn Bridge. In four city blocks near the church there were ninety thousand unchurched people living in housing projects. Yet a denomination closed down the tiny church because it didn’t seem to be self-supporting. Why? Because we had to keep twenty-seven churches competing for the American soul somewhere in West Virginia! Free enterprise may be a swell idea when you’re selling hamburgers—fast-food stores cluster—but when it comes to serving Jesus Christ, ecclesial free-enterprise simply scuttles the gospel. So we cling to our separate steeples, and the work of God suffers.

Now mark this: We don’t seem to be able to change. We can’t seem to break out of the pattern, can we? Somehow we are locked into denominational loyalties. Maybe it’s because we have to belong. Or maybe, deeper still, our own identities are at stake. Look, we know it’s wrong. Did not Jesus Christ throw back his head on the night before the cross and pray that all his disciples be one? . . . And, yet, we aren’t. There are buildings involved and cash down and jobs at stake (every denomination has a power structure) and—well, what can you do? Some years ago a statue was on display in a Pittsburgh art gallery. It was a Crucifixion: Jesus Christ stretched on the cross. The only trouble was that he was disconnected; his arms didn’t join his shoulders or his head on his neck, and his legs were not hooked onto his torso. Jesus Christ was broken into pieces. The title of the sculpture? “Denominationalism”! Can the dividing up of Jesus Christ be anything but sin? No. Yet, we seem to be helpless. Somehow we can’t seem to let go of ourselves.

From “The Churchless Kingdom of God” by David G. Buttrick, quoted in Best Sermons 3 edited by James W. Cox (Harper & Row, 1990).

Daily Reading for May 5

So, time to ask a question. How will church unity happen? What will it take to draw us together? Answer: Jesus Christ. . . .Our only loyalty is to Jesus Christ, who died so that something new might happen in the world. We are called to follow him all the way to the cross, willing to die as denominations for God’s future. For in God’s strange ways, new life can only come by death and resurrection. There’s a great story about the artist Rodin, who one day saw a huge, carved crucifix beside a road. He arranged to have the crucifix carted back to his house. But, unfortunately, it was too big for the building. So, of all things, he knocked out the walls, raised the roof, and rebuilt his home around the cross. The calling of the American church! How can we let go of ourselves and, renewed by Jesus Christ, rebuild ourselves into the larger Church, the one Church that dares follow Jesus Christ? Bluntly, we must be willing to die as denominations so that a new, freer, braver, united Christian word may be spoken. . . .

You wonder how church unity survives, particularly nowadays when denominations are digging in. Do you know the secret? Because church unity is clearly a part of God’s future, that’s why. And you who are here, you must be brave enough to sit loose in your traditions, not holding onto yourselves too much. For in Spirit you know we are meant to be one—one in faith, with one Lord, under one holy God. Amen.

From “The Churchless Kingdom of God” by David G. Buttrick, quoted in Best Sermons 3 edited by James W. Cox (Harper & Row, 1990).

Daily Reading for May 6

When I was just out of college, I was going through a particularly rough time. I was alone in a new town, far away from home and family and friends, and trying to figure out a new job, cope with an eccentric boss, and learn a new way of life. It was a rough transition. I was starting over from scratch, building a new life. It was hard and lonely work.

One day I received a greeting card in the mail from a friend who knew that I had been down about all this. The front of the card said, “Keep looking down.”

I reacted with a smirk. I’m already looking down! That’s my problem! But then I opened the card. “Keep looking down . . . you are seated with Christ in the heavenlies.”

According to Ephesians 2:6, that’s the way Jesus looks at our lives. We’re already with him in eternity. We are living above the counterfeit and have entered into the authentic. We are beyond the temporal and temporary and fleeting, and we are living in the eternal with the one who loves us so much he died for us.

Jesus knew his death was approaching. He knew the purpose of that death: to give “real and eternal” life to those who had entered into his circle of love. You are in that circle now. It is the circle of those who know God, the one and only true God, and the Son whom he sent. It is the circle of those who are living, right now, the “real and eternal life.”

Realizing this can put your life into context. The fears, doubts, loneliness, and longings you may be feeling are not the ultimate reality. Yes, they’re real. You feel them deeply. But they are temporary. They’re not the whole story. The real and eternal life you’ve been given is happening right now.

Do you realize it? Can you see it?

From “The Eternal Now” in Living Loved: Knowing Jesus as the Lover of Your Soul by Peter Wallace. Copyright © 2007. Used by permission of Church Publishing Incorporated, New York, NY. www.churchpublishing.org

Daily Reading for May 7

For the sake of love let us all pray
together with God’s working—
thanking,
trusting,
rejoicing,
for thus would our good Lord be prayed to
(as is the understanding that I received in all His own meaning, and in the sweet words where He says most merrily, “I am the basis of thy praying”).

Truly I saw and understood in our Lord’s meaning that He showed it because He wished to have it known more than it is,
and in this knowledge He will give us grace to love Him
and cleave to Him.

For He beholds His heavenly treasure with such great love on earth
that He wills to give us more light and solace in heavenly joy by
drawing our hearts from the sorrow and darkness
which we are in.

From A Lesson of Love: The Revelations of Julian of Norwich, edited and translated for devotional use by Father John-Julian, OJN (Walker and Company, 1988).

Daily Reading for May 8 • Dame Julian of Norwich, c. 1417

From the time that it was shown, I desired frequently to know what our Lord’s meaning was. And fifteen years after (and more) I was answered in spiritual understanding, saying thus:
“Wouldst thou know thy Lord’s meaning in this thing?
Be well aware:
love was his meaning.
Who showed it thee? Love.
What showed He thee? Love.
Why did He show it thee? For love.
Keep thyself in that love and thou shalt know and see more of the same,
but thou shalt never see nor know any other thing therein without end.”

Thus was I taught that love was our Lord’s meaning.
And I saw full certainly in this and in all the showings,
that before God made us, He loved us
and this love was never slackened
nor ever shall be.

In this love He has done all His works,
and in this love He has made all things beneficial to us,
and in this love our life is everlasting.

In our creation we had a beginning,
but the love in which He created us was in Him from without beginning,
and in this love we have our beginning.

And all this we shall see in God without end,
which may Jesus grant us. Amen.

From A Lesson of Love: The Revelations of Julian of Norwich, edited and translated for devotional use by Father John-Julian, OJN (Walker and Company, 1988).

Daily Reading for May 9 • Gregory of Nazianzus, Bishop of Constantinople, 389

Recognize to whom you owe the fact that you exist, that you breathe, that you understand, that you are wise, and, above all, that you know God and hope for the kingdom of heaven and the vision of glory. . . . Is it not God who asks you now in your turn to show yourself generous above all other creatures and for the sake of all other creatures? Because we have received from him so many wonderful gifts, will we not be ashamed to refuse him this one thing only, our generosity? Though he is God and Lord he is not afraid to be known as our Father. Shall we for our part repudiate those who are our kith and kin?

Friends, let us never allow ourselves to misuse what has been given us by God’s gift. If we do, we shall hear Saint Peter say: “Be ashamed of yourselves for holding on to what belongs to someone else. Resolve to imitate God’s justice, and no one will be poor.” Let us not labor to heap up and hoard riches while others remain in need. If we do, the prophet Amos will speak out against us with sharp and threatening words: “Come now, you that say: When will the new moon be over, so that we may start selling? When will Sabbath be over, so that we may start opening our treasures?”

Let us put into practice the supreme and primary law of God. He sends down rain on just and sinful alike, and causes the sun to rise on all without distinction. To all earth’s creatures he has given the broad earth, the springs, the rivers and the forests. He has given the air to the birds, and the waters to those who live in water. He has given abundantly to all the basic needs of life, not as a private possession, not restricted by law, no divided by boundaries, but as common to all, amply and in rich measure. His gifts are not deficient in any way, because he wanted to give equality of blessing to equality of worth, and to show the abundance of his generosity.

From Oration 14: On the Love of the Poor by Gregory of Nazianzus, quoted in Readings for the Daily Office from the Early Church, edited by J. Robert Wright. Copyright © 1991. Used by permission of Church Publishing Incorporated, New York, NY. www.churchpublishing.org

Daily Reading for May 10 • Eve of Pentecost

Christ has gathered the church in unity through the Spirit. With sure hope, let us pray:
Lord, hear our prayer.

Maker of all things, in the beginning, you created heaven and earth. In the fullness of time, you restored all things in Christ. Renew our world, in this day, with your grace and mercy.
Lord, hear our prayer.

Life of the world, you breathed life into the flesh you created. Now, by your Spirit, breathe new life into the children of earth. Turn hatred into love, sorrow into joy, and war into peace.
Lord, hear our prayer.

Lover of concord, you desire the unity of all Christians. Set aflame the whole church with the fire of your Spirit. Unite us to stand in the world as a sign of your love.
Lord, hear our prayer.

God of compassion, through your Spirit you supply every human need. Heal the sick, and comfort the distressed. Befriend the friendless, and help the helpless.
Lord, hear our prayer.

Source of peace, your Spirit restores our anxious spirits. In our labor, give us rest; in our temptation, strength; in our sadness, consolation.
Lord, hear our prayer.

After a brief silence, the leader concludes the litany:

God eternal, as you sent upon the disciples the promised gift of the Holy Spirit, look upon your church and open our hearts to the power of the Holy Spirit. Kindle in us the fire of your love, and strengthen our lives for service in your kingdom; through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.

“A Litany for Pentecost” from the Book of Common Worship (1993), quoted in The Wideness of God’s Mercy: Litanies to Enlarge Our Prayer, revised and updated edition, compiled and adapted by Jeffery Rowthorn with W. Alfred Tisdale. Copyright © 2007. Used by permission of Church Publishing Incorporated, New York, NY. www.churchpublishing.org

Daily Reading for May 11 • The Day of Pentecost

Pentecost is a noun. It is a good noun, strong and clear, confident of its identity, able to stand up in any room and say what it is. That’s what nouns are; that’s what nouns do. If you want definitions, nouns can give you definitions. Pentecost: An early harvest festival celebrated in the ancient Near East, among many peoples, including the Jews. Pentecost: An early harvest festival transformed into a celebration of the revelation of the law given at Sinai. Pentecost: The birthday of the church. Pentecost: A festival celebrated fifty days after Easter or, in Judaism, seven weeks and one day after Passover. Pentecost: The last day of the liturgical year and the beginning of ordinary time. Pentecost: The last Sunday of Easter. Pentecost is a noun: clear-eyed, level-gazed, certain of its identity.

But when you make Pentecost into an adjective, it grows anxious, nervous, and uncertain, standing first on one foot, then on the other. It wants to be a good adjective, as it runs around looking for a noun to modify, but doesn’t know which nouns and doesn’t know what we are talking about. The adjective is “Pentecostal.” We don’t admit we don’t know; we use the word and assume we know. . . . In spite of the fact that the church doesn’t know what the adjective means, the church insists that the word remain in our vocabulary as an adjective. The church is unwilling for the word simply to be a noun, to represent a date, a place, an event in the history of the church, refuses for it to be simply a memory, an item, something back there somewhere. The church insists the word is an adjective; it describes the church. . . . In the renewal of its life and witness, especially in times of faltering evangelism, the church seeks to reclaim, to recover that quality, perhaps reading, praying, asking, thinking, reflecting again on Pentecost. Perhaps that day will not be just a memory, but also a hope, something that will occur again.

From “On Being Pentecostal” by Fred B. Craddock, quoted in Best Sermons 1 edited by James W. Cox (Harper & Row, 1988).

Daily Reading for May 12 • The First Book of Common Prayer

The book of 1549 was a tremendous achievement and has earned for Thomas Cranmer, who as far as we know produced it almost single-handed, a place in the first rank of the liturgists of Christendom. In view of its excellence, it is astonishing that it was used in English churches for only three years. Yet when one considers what a moderate and irenic production it was, intended to reconcile opposing points of view so that all England could worship as a united body of Christians, it is not so surprising that it should finally have pleased no one—as so often happens with compromises. In any case it was withdrawn under pressure in 1552 and another book substituted for it. . . .

What we need to observe now is the fact that no liturgical production is perfect, nor will it satisfy the needs of the church forever. Not only did the book of 1549 not go as far in a Protestant direction as the ruling powers desired, but it also had other liabilities that later generations have discovered. Some of these it passed on to its successors.

In some cases its work of removing the accretions of generations did not go far enough. The service of baptism is a good example. In some cases, the book went too far and eliminated valuable liturgical material that has only gradually been recovered. The special services for Holy Week are an example. . . .

Even with these faults, the English Book of Common Prayer and its counterparts in many countries around the world have been an unusually effective means for proclaiming the Gospel. Gospel is good news, and news can be spread only by telling other people about it. It cannot be figured out like a puzzle or dredged out of our subconscious minds by meditation or analysis. . . .The effectiveness of the Book of Common Prayer in proclaiming what God has done for us in Christ is connected in the first place to its intelligibility. When the acts of God are told in a strange tongue, they can hardly be appropriated. . . .From one end of the Prayer Book to the other, in Daily Office, Eucharist, Pastoral Offices, and Ordinal, the English liturgy has vividly proclaimed the great deliverance God has brought to us through his people Israel, and most of all, though his Son, Jesus Christ.

From Liturgy for Living, revised edition, by Charles P. Price and Louis Weil. Copyright © 1979, 2000. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 13

To understand Luke’s Pentecost it is necessary to understand that the gospel doesn’t just go to the ends of the earth; the ends of the earth are present from the very first day. There is no secondhand, third-hand or fourth-hand faith. There is no church or nation that can say, “It belonged to us and now we are going to give it to you through our benevolence, evangelism, and mission work.” No, No, No! Our listeners rise up and say, “We were there that same opening day you were there.” For any church that would be Pentecostal, Pentecost removes all ground for any sense of triumphalism, for that ugly sense of arrogance and superiority that takes over the church sometimes simply because we get the notion that the salvation of other people in the world depends upon our behavior. Luke says it started in all the world at the same time. . . .

Luke’s word for us is simply this: “Do you want to be Pentecostal in a good, healthy, lively, renewing sense? Do you want the church to be Pentecostal? Then spend some thoughtful, careful, prayerful, listening time—listening to the listeners, in their concrete, historical circumstances.” And if we listen to the listeners, carefully, prayerfully, thoughtfully, then we will notice, and will stand among them and say, “I think I speak for every person here, Parthians, Medes, Elamites, Europeans, Asians, Americans, Chinese, Africans, South Americans . . . I think I speak for every person here when I ask, “Show us God and we’ll be satisfied.”

From “On Being Pentecostal” by Fred B. Craddock, quoted in Best Sermons 1 edited by James W. Cox (Harper & Row, 1988).

Daily Reading for May 14

Did you know the word “conspire” means to breathe together? Take a breath. Now blow it out again. There! You have just launched a conspiracy. You can hear the word “spirit” in there too—to conspire—to be filled with the same spirit, to be enlivened by the same wind. That is why the word appeals to me, anyhow. What happens between us when we come together to worship God is that the Holy Spirit swoops in and out among us, knitting us together through the songs we sing, the prayers we pray, the breaths we breathe. It can happen with two people and it can happen with two thousand people. It can scare us or comfort us, confuse us or clarify things for us, but as far as I can tell the Holy Spirit never bullies us. We are always free to choose whether or how we will respond. . . .

In the book of Acts, we learn the good news of what God did through the Holy Spirit, by performing artificial resuscitation on a room full of well-intentioned bumblers and turning them into a force that changed the history of the world. The question for me is whether we still believe in a God who acts like that. Do we still believe in a God who blows through closed doors and sets our heads on fire? Do we still believe in a God with power to transform us, both as individuals and as a people, or have we come to an unspoken agreement that our God is pretty old and tired by now, someone to whom we may address our prayer requests but not anyone we really expect to change our lives?

From “The Gospel of the Holy Spirit” in Home By Another Way by Barbara Brown Taylor (Cowley, 1999).

Daily Reading for May 15

Of all the persons of the Trinity, I suppose the Holy Spirit is the hardest to define. Most of us can at least begin to describe the other two: God the Father, creator of heaven and earth, who makes the sun shine and the rain fall. God the Son, who was human like us: our savior, teacher, helper, and friend. But how would you describe God the Holy Spirit to a five-year-old child? Even Jesus had a hard time with that one. “The Spirit blows where it chooses,” he said in John’s gospel, “and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes” (3:8).

There is some very fine teaching available on the Holy Spirit, and I hope none of you is satisfied with it. I hope none of you rests until you have felt the Holy Spirit blow through your own life, rearranging things, opening things up and maybe even setting your own head on fire. There is nothing you can do to make it happen, as far as I know, except to pray “Come, Holy Spirit” every chance you get. If you don’t want anything to change in your life, then for heaven’s sake don’t pray that, but if you are the type of person who likes to stand out on the porch when there is a storm moving through so you can feel the power that is pushing the trees around, then you are probably a good candidate for the Holy Spirit prayer.

From “The Gospel of the Holy Spirit” in Home By Another Way by Barbara Brown Taylor (Cowley, 1999).

Daily Reading for May 16

Luke has a great sense of symmetry, and his traditions are organized in orderly patterns of time and space. The ministry of Jesus began with the descending of the Spirit, and so Jesus progresses from the provinces to the city of Jerusalem. Now the life of the church begins in Jerusalem, in the Temple, with the descending of the Spirit on the disciples, and in the power of that Spirit they will bear witness in words and actions and through martyrdom far beyond the lands traversed by Jesus. The Book of Acts itself brings the witness all the way to Rome, the capital of the world that Luke knew.

Now the Spirit is the energy and the guide engineering the life and expansion of the church in the world of the Jewish diaspora and through it to the Gentile world. . . .The Acts of the Apostles could just as well, or even better, be called “the Acts of the Holy Spirit,” and there are indeed few chapters in the book without specific references to such acts. . . . It is striking that the followers of Jesus did not dream themselves back to the time when he had walked with them and talked with them. It is astonishing how small a role the words of Jesus, which were later made part of our Gospels, play in the early Christian writings, the letters of Paul and of others, and even in Luke’s account of the first decades of the church. . . .They did not look back in nostalgia. They looked forward and they lived powerfully in the now of the Holy Spirit. One really feels the truth of Jesus’ words of farewell in the Gospel of John: . . . “I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, it will guide you into all truth.”

Thus, when we pray: Come, Holy Spirit, our prayer is well in keeping with the mode and mood of faith which was tried and tested as the church began to understand itself, its promises, and its identity.

From “Come, Holy Spirit—Renew the Whole Creation” by Krister Stendahl, in The Best Christian Writing 2000, John Wilson, series editor (Harper SanFrancisco, 2000).

Daily Reading for May 17

The work of the Spirit, [according to John’s gospel,] is to teach, witness, convince, guide into truth, and declare what is to come, and every part of this ministry is derived from, and in turn points to, the historic mission and teaching of Jesus. Four times the Spirit is named as the Paraclete, and in the first of these instances he is called ‘another Paraclete’. Jesus, it is implied, has been the first Paraclete; now, with the departure of Jesus, the second Paraclete will be sent. We need to ask what the word means. . . .

The usual meaning of parakletos outside the New Testament is ‘one called to help’—the pleader, the legal assistant, the advocate in a court of law. There is much in the discourse which suggests this sense; the work of the Paraclete includes convicting the world, and witnessing to the truth. But it is also relevant that the verb parakalein and the noun paraklesis are used of Christians preaching (cf. Acts 2.40), and this may give to the word Paraclete a nuance reaching beyond the legal sense. So, too, in the Greek Bible, both the verb and the noun are used of the divine consolation expected in the messianic age, and this justifies the rendering ‘Comforter’. It is, then, both as Advocate and as Comforter that the Spirit will aid the disciples.

From Holy Spirit: A Biblical Study by Michael Ramsey (Cowley Publications, 1992).

Daily Reading for May 18 • Trinity Sunday

The feast of the Holy Trinity is unique to the Anglican communion. Originating in Spain in the early Middle Ages, spreading through the Gallican church in France, it survived only in England. This festival of the triune God is dedicated not to the commemoration of an event such as Christmas and Easter, nor to a person such as a saint, but to a theological doctrine. Following the festival of the Holy Spirit, Trinity Sunday is logically dedicated to the task of pulling together the total experience of the Christian with the God whom he worships and adores.

There are many difficulties involved in the traditional doctrine of the Trinity. The arguments of the Church fathers of Nicea as to how one almighty God could be divided into three separate and distinct persons and yet retain his oneness seems sadly irrelevant to the unphilosophical mind. It is inconceivable to us that fellow Christians could have fought so bitterly over the precise meanings of the word, and then come up with the seeming contradictions of three in one and one in three. . . .

Whether this Holy Spirit, this God within, proceeds from the Father or the Son is relatively unimportant. For me this God who, at times, moves me to deep awe and wonder at the power and beauty of creation, speaks to my human need through Jesus Christ, or brings me suddenly to life, seemingly from within my own mind and soul or in a worshiping group of which I am a part, is one God, known in various ways, experienced in differing situations. For purposes of clarification of my thinking or description of my experience, it is useful to call him Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. But he is the same no matter how I try to describe him. He is a great God—too great for any human mind to explain or classify completely. But he is not too great to worship and adore as Lord and giver of life. This is the heart of Christian faith, the cause of our devotion, and the goal of all our striving.

From “Three In One—One In Three” in Go Into the City: Sermons for a Strenuous Age by John Compton Leffler (Madrona Publishers, 1986).

Daily Reading for May 19 • Dunstan, Archbishop of Canterbury, 988

O Lord; O King, resplendent on the citadel of heaven,
all hail continually;
and of your clemency upon your people still have mercy.

Lord, whom the hosts of cherubim in songs and hymns
with praise continually proclaim,
upon us eternally have mercy.

The armies aloft, O Lord, sing high praise to you;
those to whom the seraphim reply, ‘have mercy.’

O Christ, enthroned as king above,
whom the nine orders of angels in their beauty praise without ceasing,
upon us, your servants, ever have mercy.

O Christ, hymned by your one and only church throughout the world,
to whom the sun, and moon, and stars, the land and sea,
ever do service, have mercy.

O Christ, those holy ones, the heirs of the eternal country,
one and all with utter joy proclaim you in a most worthy strain:
have mercy upon us.

O Lord, O gentle son of Mary free;
O King of kings, blessed redeemer;
upon those who have been ransomed from the power of death,
by your own blood, ever have mercy.

O nobles unbegotten, yet begotten Son, having no beginning,
yet without effort (in the weakness of God) excelling all things,
upon this your people in your pity, Lord have mercy.

O sun of righteousness, in all unclouded glory,
supreme dispenser of justice,
in that great day when you strictly judge all nations,
we earnestly beseech you, upon this your people,
who here stand before your presence,
in your pity, Lord, then have mercy on us.

A prayer of Dunstan, Abbot of Glastonbury and Archbishop of Canterbury, quoted in 2000 Years of Prayer, compiled by Michael Counsell. Copyright © 1999. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 20 • Alcuin, Deacon, and Abbot of Tours, 804

Charlemagne invited a number of scholars to come to the court to assist him, most notably Alcuin, the celebrated deacon of York. . . .The prayers of the Carolingian period bore a personal and devotional character. Several good examples of prayer books (libelli precum--small booklets of prayer) have survived. It has long been held that Alcuin was the compiler of libelli such as these. While questions of authority and textual originality are far from settled, the choice of texts and their compilation prove especially revelatory of the spirituality of the early Middle Ages and serve to delineate the boundaries of the penitential and confessional discipline of this period. Far from being original, the libelli are rather evidence of prayer collections that had been fairly well circulated. The books are punctuated by prayers of Irish and Anglo-Saxon origin, called confessions, along with many other penitential prayers. Furthermore, these booklets, which were compiled principally in the Celtic and Anglo-Saxon lands, are patterned after the monastic psalter. Most of the prayers that are of devotional nature seem to have been intended for private use, a characteristic typical of Irish spirituality at this time. . . .

One feature of the Celtic prayers is the confession of sins. The sinner enumerates all the parts of the body as though each part has been guilty of perpetrating sin. . . .The confession attributed to the pen of Alcuin is of an equivalent length to the Irish examples and contains the typical anatomical list. However, this list is in reverse order, beginning with the feet and terminating with the head. Composed for Charlemagne, this prayer demonstrates the Celtic influence on the deacon from York. The way in which sins are spoken of is very dynamic: the feet are slow to obey the commandments of the Lord, the knees bend more in fornication than in prayer, and the stomach swells with gluttony and drunkenness. . . .Contrasted with the Roman style of prayer, these texts are marked by affective exuberance, a trait characteristic of Irish devotion.

From “The Conversion of the Nations” by Michael S. Driscoll, in The Oxford History of Christian Worship, edited by Geoffrey Wainwright and Karen B. Westerfield Tucker (Oxford, 2006).

Daily Reading for May 21

Christ, why do you allow wars and massacres on earth? By what mysterious judgement do you allow innocent people to be cruelly slaughtered? I cannot know. I can only find assurance in the promise that your people will find peace in heaven, where no one makes war. As gold is purified by fire, so you purify souls by these bodily tribulations, making them ready to be received above the stars in your heavenly home.

Dear God, here on earth you are constantly seeking to change us. At times we wish to flee into the wilderness to avoid you. But let us learn to love the lasting things of heaven, rather than the dying things of earth. We must accept that time always brings change; and we pray that by your grace the change within our souls will make us worthy of your heavenly kingdom, where all time will cease.

Good Jesus, you have deigned to refresh our souls with the sweet stream of knowledge; grant that one day we may come to you, its source and spring.

Prayers of Alcuin of York, quoted in 2000 Years of Prayer, compiled by Michael Counsell. Copyright © 1999. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 22

Ordinary Time [the Seasons after Epiphany and Pentecost] is the time of the Church, of the daily life of every Christian community, and of each one of us. It is the time not of a brief effort during which one hurries or even runs in order to progress on the way, but the time when one goes at a measured pace in order to cover a long distance.

As a rule, it is not the time for great conversations, for decisive choices made at one time or another in one's life. But it is the time for a painstaking, though at times wavering, faithfulness; the time for an obscure faith that sustains daily life; the time for a self-effacing hope that holds us steadfast and keeps us from stopping at the first difficulty; the time for charity writ small.

To be sure, this is not the time when we can overcome large obstacles in one leap. But this is the time when progress is made in spite of the rocks or holes along the way. This is the time for unceasingly announcing and preaching the gospel, not with raised voices, but in season and out of season. This is the time that allows for the slow germination of God's Word, the cultivating of the vine, the regular treatments that prevent and cure diseases, the fertilizing repeated whenever rain or storm have compromised the preceding application. This is the time for lamps to be replenished with oil; for the daily bread, sometimes stale but nonetheless nourishing; for the simple glass of water that quenches thirst. This is the time when one draws new and old from the treasury of the Church and of God's Word. This is the time of regular prayer, of assiduous attention to the apostles’ teaching, and to the breaking of the bread dispensed by the Church, Sunday in and Sunday out.

Ordinary Time is the opportunity for us to take our time without wasting it.

From Days of the Lord: The Liturgical Year, Volume 4, Ordinary Time, Year A (Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 1992).

Daily Reading for May 23

In one of the apocryphal Christian books, the Acts of St. John, we learn that after the Last Supper our Lord, Jesus Christ, came down from the table and danced a sacred round with his twelve disciples and ‘Having danced these things with us, the Lord went forth. And we, as though beside ourselves, or wakened out of deep sleep, fled our separate ways.’ The second council of Nicaea attacked and condemned the Acts of St. John. At the time of the council, the dance round, the Hymn of Jesus with words sung by Christ, was widely believed to be a ritual of imitation with Christ as the mystagogue or teacher of the mysteries.

Why did the early Church Fathers suppress the apocryphal Acts of St. John? Sacred dance and holy liturgy involves us bodily, emotionally and intellectually, for through the dance of the liturgy my own person and the group are brought into an expected relationship. Even though it may be conceived and born from group and self, that relationship is a new thing with a life of its own, and in turn renews all three . . . the threefold dance of creation and of the Holy Trinity. . . . When we dance, when we celebrate, we are writing our theology with our hands and feet and voices, into our bodies.

The danced hymn of praise signifies the fulfilment of the Lord’s Supper. The inward dynamic consists in the offering of praise with Christ standing in the centre and the twelve apostles moving around him in a circle. Here the disciples are united with their Master in the mystery of at-one-ment. Sounding through the dance is the voice of Christ and this voice as the original sound at the beginning and end of creation, is there imparting the essence of its mystery through the dance.

In the early Church it was held that angels were always present during the celebration of the Eucharist. They participated with Christ in the performance of the sacred mystery. Christian art has, throughout the centuries, amply illustrated this notion of the singing and dancing angels. Early Fathers of the Church often commented on the dance as a means of worship and of linking the faithful to the angels and blessed souls in Paradise:

“Could there be anything more blessed than to imitate on earth the ring-dance of the angels, and at dawn to raise our voices in prayer and by hymns and songs to glorify the rising creator?” (St. Basil, Bishop of Caesarea, fourth century)

From Lord of Creation: A Resource for Creative Celtic Spirituality by Brendan O’Malley. Copyright © 2005, 2008. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 24 • Jackson Kemper, First Missionary Bishop in the United States, 1870

Jackson Kemper’s ministry is tied up with the organization called the Domestic and Foreign Missionary Society, which in turn is tied up with the story of Episcopal expansion in areas west of the Alleghenies and north of the Ohio River. As early as 1792, the General Convention considered a proposal to send Episcopal missionaries to the frontiers of the United States. From 1796 on, the individual dioceses formed missionary societies. Though the General Convention had asked them to send missionaries west, the societies, with very few exceptions, limited their work to the boundaries of their own states. . . .

In 1835, using the New Testament for its model, the General Convention decided that missions should not be a subsidiary committee but rather a responsibility of the entire church. . . . Changing missions into a church-wide responsibility was the first innovation of 1835. A second was the General Convention’s decision to create missionary districts in those new areas of America and to send missionary bishops to them even before any Episcopal work had been started. The model for the new plan was that of the New Testament apostle.

A forty-five-year-old graduate of Columbia and a high churchman, Kemper was the first missionary bishop sent west. . . . Kemper had responsibility for the areas that are now Indiana, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, and Nebraska. . . . After the first tour of his district, Kemper reported that he could immediately employ one hundred clergy; seven years later, he had been able to secure only thirty-one. By 1840 the Baptists had almost as many clergy at work in Missouri as the Episcopal Church had in all states and territories west of the Alleghenies combined.

The shortage of clergy stemmed from more than lack of funding. Most Episcopal clergy came from reasonably comfortable backgrounds; the frontier mission had relatively little appeal. Missionaries who went west could anticipate low salaries, isolation, danger, substantially lowered lifestyles, and unremitting work. . . .In a memorable but rather archaic wording, Bishop Alexander Garrett of North Texas said that he needed clergy who could “ride like a cow-boy, pray like a saint, preach like an apostle, and having food and raiment be therewith content.”

From A Brief History of the Episcopal Church by David L. Holmes (Trinity Press International, 1993).

Daily Reading for May 25 • The Second Sunday after Pentecost

How do you prepare yourself to write the Declaration of Independence? On what was Thomas Jefferson nourishing his mind and soul? His account books reveal that on May 24 Jefferson paid someone named Hillegas twenty-seven shillings for fiddle strings. May 27, Jefferson spent “one and seven” for toys. May 28, he gave two shillings for a doll. The ledgers further show that, during the remainder of that momentous session of the Continental Congress, Jefferson also bought fishing tackle, a pair of boots, a hat, and guitar strings. . . .Apparently Thomas Jefferson solved this creative crisis when on that same pregnant day he shelled out—this is the item I love—“one shilling for seeing a monkey.”

We’ve got a revolution on our hands, a cataclysmic international upheaval, erupting hopes and dreams of freedom, and Thomas Jefferson is off looking at a monkey. . . .Who says that frivolity isn’t part of God’s creative design? The Puritans, those promulgators of the “Protestant work ethic,” said it wasn’t. But Jefferson wasn’t buying that, and the balance seems to tip in his favor. How logical is it to assume that inspiration—the operation of God’s creative Spirit—is bound by our conceptions of “logic”? The wisest people know how to press beyond such limited thinking. Creativity follows its own logic. . . .

Now consider Jesus, who taught his disciples to consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air (Matt. 6:26-28). . . . Maybe part of salvation is looking at lilies, not for any particular purpose or use, but just because God put lilies here for looking at. And to look at the lilies is to salute God and to acknowledge the work of God’s hands, and somehow that salutation, that acceptance of God’s grace, is part of our salvation. . . .

The danger is that people who will not pay “one shilling for seeing a monkey” eventually pay by getting monkeys on their backs. People who won’t look at lilies develop tunnel vision. People who won’t gaze at the birds of the air grow blind to God’s gifts of grace. And people who haven’t time or heart to hug little children can’t be trusted to hold anything. . . .

It’s possible that taking time out for opening to grace may produce better results than banging your head against a wall. It’s possible that lilies and birds may charm away the boulder that blocks your brain. After all, God did not design this world to be a penitentiary but a paradise, and God created it all for you as well as for every other creature. Consider the lilies—and don’t miss the monkeys.

From “Consider the Monkeys” by Robert John Versteeg, quoted in Best Sermons 4 edited by James W. Cox (Harper & Row, 1991).

Daily Reading for May 26 • Memorial Day

Said de Tocqueville, “America is great because America is good. If she ceases to be good, she ceases to be great.” With less power, we Americans will be better able to be good, both to ourselves and to others. I have great confidence in America. We are still a young country, with lots of raw energy. We’re a country of immigrants, whose sons and daughters still harbor a love for the impossible task. Yet we must change the national imagination, shed our self-righteousness, rid ourselves of our macho love of weapons inherited from our macho frontier past. It is time now to honor the countless Americans who have died in wars they shouldn’t have been asked to fight, wars that might have been avoided, settled by negotiations—honor them by putting an end to the vainglory, the blunderings, and the carnage that cost them their lives.

American churches can contribute enormously by seeing how pathologically dysfunctional war is rapidly becoming. Let them affirm the psalmist’s contention that “the war horse is a vain hope for victory, and by its great might it cannot save” (33:17). Churches have a special obligation to point out that “God’n’country” is not one word, and to summon America to a higher vision of its meaning and destiny.

Churches all over the world must see to it that nonviolence becomes a strategy not only for individuals and groups, but one taught to governments. If arms reductions are to become more likely and wars less so, then new measures have to be devised for conflict resolution. . . . Mediation must become the order of the day. Every nation should abandon its claim to be a judge in its own cause. Nations must learn to listen to one another, to affirm the valid interests of adversaries, to cease judgmental propaganda, to heed international law. We must replace the concept of national security with that of common security, an understanding that the security of countries cannot be imagined separately, for none is really secure until all are secure.

From “Beyond War” in A Passion for the Possible: A Message to U.S. Churches by William Sloane Coffin (Westminster John Knox Press, 2004).

Daily Reading for May 27 • Augustine, First Archbishop of Canterbury, 605 (transferred)

Reassured by the encouragement of the blessed father Gregory, Augustine and his fellow-servants of Christ resumed their work in the word of God, and arrived in Britain. At this time the most powerful king there was Ethelbert, who reigned in Kent. . . .To the east of Kent lies the large island of Thanet. . . .It was here that God’s servant Augustine landed with companions, who are said to have been forty in number. At the direction of blessed Pope Gregory, they had brought interpreters from among the Franks, and they sent these to Ethelbert, saying that they came from Rome bearing very glad news, which infallibly assured all who would receive it of eternal joy in heaven and an everlasting kingdom with the living and true God. . . .After some days, the king came to the island and, sitting down in the open air, summoned Augustine and his companions to an audience. . . .When, at the king’s command, they had sat down and preached the word of life to the king and his court, the king said: ‘Your words and promises are fair indeed; but they are new and uncertain, and I cannot accept them and abandon the age-old beliefs that I have held together with the whole English nation. But since you have traveled far, and I can see that you are sincere in your desire to impart to us what you believe to be true and excellent, we will not harm you. We will receive you hospitably and take care to supply you with all that you need; nor will we forbid you to preach and win any people you can to your religion.’ The king then granted them a dwelling in the city of Canterbury, which was the chief city of all his realm, and in accordance with his promise he allowed them provisions and did not withdraw their freedom to preach. . . .

As soon as they had occupied the house given to them they began to emulate the life of the apostles and the primitive Church. They were constantly at prayer; they fasted and kept vigils; they preached the word of life to whomsoever they could. They regarded worldly things as of little importance, and accepted only the necessities of life from those they taught. They practiced what they preached, and were willing to endure any hardship, and even to die for the truth which they proclaimed. Before long a number of heathen, admiring the simplicity of their holy lives and the comfort of their heavenly message, believed and were baptized. On the east side of the cit stood an old church, built in honour of Saint Martin during the Roman occupation of Britain. . . .Here they first assembled to sing the psalms, to pray, to say Mass, to preach, and to baptize, until the king’s own conversion to the Faith gave them greater freedom to preach and to build and restore churches everywhere.

From A History of the English Church and People by Bede, translated by Leo Sherley-Price (Penguin Books, 1968).

Daily Reading for May 28

Teilhard de Chardin outlines the dangers of a divided heart and mind if we do not love God and the world aright. He suggests that most Christians are in danger of becoming ‘distorted, disgusted, or divided’. We become distorted when we deny our taste for the tangible world and make ourselves purely religious objects. To do this we need to banish so much of the beauty and splendour that is about us. In denying our natural love for the world we distort the truth about ourselves and our God. The disgusted decide that the world is too wonderful to deny and they turn their backs on God, like the man who went away sorrowing because he had too many riches. They seek to live thoroughly human lives without recourse to any higher being. Yet they know in themselves that there is more to this world and in themselves than they are acknowledging. To deny all mystery and wonder is to diminish ourselves and our horizons. The third group is the most common and that is the divided. They give up any attempt of making sense of the situation; they never belong wholly to God or wholly to things. Such people often live by double standards and are seen as insincere.

We can all experience this division in ourselves at times. There are many times in our lives when we are not wholly there, when we are not giving our attention or ourselves. To travel in body but not in spirit is to be a tourist but not a pilgrim. Yet even a tourist needs to be there; Annie Dillard says, ‘Beauty and grace are performed whether or not we will sense them. The least we can do is try to be there’.

From The Road of Life: Reflections on Searching and Longing by David Adam. Copyright © 2004. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 29

God freely created us so that we might know, love and serve him in this life and be happy with him for ever. God’s purpose in creating us is to draw forth from us a response of love and service here on earth, so that we may obtain our goal of everlasting happiness with him in heaven.

All things in this world are gifts of God, created for us, to be the means by which we can come to know him better, love him more surely and serve him more faithfully.

As a result, we ought to appreciate and use these gifts of God insofar as they help us towards our goal of loving service and union with God. But insofar as any created things hinder our progress toward our goal, we ought to let them go.

From The Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius of Loyola (The Institute of Jesus Sources, 1978).

Daily Reading for May 30

Merely being satisfied with what we already have is not sufficient; we also have to confront our desire to have more things and more money. We have to “decide what is enough and then stick to it in order to save our very souls.”

This is far from easy. Right now I am looking out my back door at the place where I would really like to have a deck. It is close to the kitchen, and I can foresee easy, lazy summer meals under the trees. We do not need the deck—we have other places to sit outside—but I have been thinking about it for years. Every time I get ready to call the carpenter, however, I hold back. I cannot feel good about spending $5,000 on something we do not really need. I know I would feel even better if I would just make a decision to forget the deck and send the money to support Habitat for Humanity in Guatemala or Judith’s weavers in Mexico. I am also a little angry with myself for getting stuck on something so frivolous when I know that such a question is pure luxury in a world of want. While we try to be responsible with our funds and carefully think through what we want to give away and to whom, we probably do not give away nearly enough and we have certain blind spots. And, to be honest, we tend to console ourselves with what we do give away and ignore some of the nagging issues. Like the deck.

Nonetheless, I know that if I am going to maintain a vibrant faith, hard questions about money have to be asked and answered. If you are like me, perhaps you will join me in asking a few hard questions such as these:

How much money is enough? How much do I really need to keep for myself and my family?

What addictions does my money feed, such as spending, shopping, the appearance of success, luxury, power, control?

Where does my money come from? Do I benefit from systems that oppress others? What kinds of seeds are my investments growing in the world?

How does my faith direct the use of my money? What people, causes, movements, programs, political candidates would I like my money to support?

What messages do I want to give to my children and grandchildren about my use of money?

Do our children really need the money we want to give them? Are there others who need it more?

How can we open up a conversation about money with members of our families, our communities, and our churches?

How much is left over after we have done our giving? How can we live on less and give more and still live in this culture?

We cannot brush off these questions. If we have been educated beyond high school, if we have jobs, insurance, and retirement packages, if we own our own home or can comfortably afford a rental, we are wealthy. Most of you are probably not millionaires but are more like me, worrying about whether or not to build the deck in the back of the house. Wherever we are on the continuum between “getting by” and wealthy, the answers we give to questions of wealth and the actions that flow from them might just, as Pierce suggests, save our very souls.

From Your Daily Life is Your Temple by Anne Rowthorn. Copyright © 2006. Seabury Books, an imprint of Church Publishing. Used by permission of Church Publishing Incorporated, New York, NY. www.churchpublishing.org

Daily Reading for May 31 • The Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary

At first I had no idea where the lovely Magnificat we sang every night was from: “My soul magnifies the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior” (Luke 1:46). When I eventually found it in the first chapter of Luke’s Gospel, I was startled but glad to see that it was one pregnant woman’s response to a blessing from another. It is the song Mary sings after she has walked to her cousin Elizabeth’s village, and on greeting Mary, Elizabeth, who is bearing John the Baptist, recognizes that Mary bears the Messiah. . . .

The Magnificat’s message is so subversive that for a period during the 1980s the government of Guatemala banned its public recitation (a sanction that I’m sure the monasteries in that country violated daily). But when I came to its words knowing so little about them, I found that all too often they were words I could sing with ease at evening prayer, with a facile (and sometimes sleepy) acceptance. On other nights, however, they were a mother’s words, probing uncomfortably into my life. How rich had I been that day, how full of myself? Too full to recognize need and hunger, my own or anyone else’s? So powerfully providing for myself that I couldn’t admit my need for the help of others? Too busy to know a blessing when it came to me?

From “Virgin Mary, Mother of God” in Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith by Kathleen Norris (Riverhead Books, 1998).