Daily Reading for May 1 • Saint Philip and Saint James, Apostles

The disciples were simple people. They were ordinary folks who worked for a living, paid bills, and had to fulfill all the mundane responsibilities of life. Some were married and had to take care of those relationships properly. A few certainly must have had children. They had all the ingredients for the recipe of ordinary, everyday people. Just like us.

The disciples weren’t anything special. They hadn’t established themselves as prominent authorities in any field. They hadn’t made a name for themselves. They possessed no special talent, no unusual gift for anything other than just living a regular life. Just like us.

But Jesus called them. He called them to follow him, to be with him and learn from him. He called them to see him heal and touch and transform people’s lives and to hear him teach amazingly simple yet startlingly counterintuitive truths. Just as he has called us.

So, the disciples followed him, and they were amazed to see Jesus’ astonishing works, to hear his challenging words. They’d never seen anyone do things like this. But Jesus told them that they would not only do the same work he did, but “even greater things.”

Greater things than Jesus did? It’s hard to believe. Yet Jesus really only touched the lives of a handful of people in a very small area of the planet. The disciples who followed him, and those who followed them even until today, have made an impact on the entire world, sharing the message of God’s loving forgiveness and gracious acceptance in word and deed. As a result of their simple acts of obedience, the world is a different place.

Clearly those simple, ordinary men would become extraordinary servants in their work of spreading the good news about their Master. Many traveled far, worked hard, and ultimately gave their lives for the cause, just as their Master had done.

Jesus’ words are meant for us too. He challenges us to follow him, to do even greater things for him. It’s not about who we are—our personality or gifts or background. It’s about how willing we are. How touched we are by Jesus’ love. How filled we are by his Spirit. So, what’s stopping you? Even greater things await you.

From 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 2 • Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria, 373

Let us keep the feast on the first day of the great week, as a symbol of the world to come, in which we here receive a pledge that we shall have everlasting life hereafter. Then, having passed hence, we shall keep a perfect feast with Christ, while we cry out and say, like the saints, ‘I will pass to the place of the wondrous tabernacle, to the house of God; with the voice of gladness and thanksgiving, the shouting of those who rejoice’ whence pain and sorrow and sighing have fled, and upon our heads gladness and joy shall have come to us! May we be judged worthy to be partakers in these things.

Let us remember the poor, and not forget kindness to strangers; above all, let us love God with all our soul, and might, and strength, and our neighbor as ourselves. So may we receive those things which the eye hath not seen, nor the ear heard, and which have not entered into the heart of man, which God hath prepared for those that love Him, through his only Son, our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ; through whom, to the Father alone by the Holy Spirit be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.

From a festival letter of Athanasius, quoted in Liturgical Practice in the Fathers by Thomas K. Carroll and Thomas Halton (Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier, 1988).

Daily Reading for May 3 • The Fourth Sunday of Easter

He whose goodness is his own nature and not some nonessential gift, says, “I am the good Shepherd.” He adds the character of this goodness, which we are to imitate, saying, “The good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” He did what he taught; he gave an example of what he commanded. The good Shepherd has laid down his life for his sheep in order to change his body and blood into a sacrament for us and to satisfy the sheep he had redeemed with his own body as food.

The way of contempt for death that we are to follow has been shown us, the mold that is to form us is there. The first thing we are to do is to devote our external goods to his sheep in mercy. Then, if it should be necessary, we are to offer even our death for these same sheep. . . . If someone does not give his substance to the sheep, how can he lay down his life for them?

From Forty Gospel Homilies 15 of Gregory the Great, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVa, John 1-10, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2006).

Daily Reading for May 4 • Monica, Mother of Augustine of Hippo, 387

Not long before the day on which she was to leave this life—you knew which day it was to be, O Lord, though we did not—my mother and I were alone, leaning from a window which overlooked the garden in the courtyard of the house where we were staying at Ostia. We were talking alone together and our conversation was serene and joyful. In the presence of Truth, which is yourself, we were wondering what the eternal life of the saints would be like, that like which no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no human heart conceived. But we laid the lips of our hearts to the heavenly stream that flows from your fountain, the source of all life which is in you, so that as far as it was in our power to do so we might be sprinkled with its waters and in some sense reach an understanding of this great mystery.

As the flame of love burned stronger in us and raised us higher towards the eternal God, our thoughts ranged over the whole compass of material things in their various degrees, up to the heavens themselves, from which the sun and the moon and the stars shine down upon the earth. Higher still we climbed, thinking and speaking all the while in wonder at all that you have made. And while we spoke of the eternal Wisdom, longing for it and straining for it with all the strength of our hearts, for one fleeting instant we reached out and touched it.

From the Confessions of Augustine of Hippo (Penguin Classics, 1962).

Daily Reading for May 5

[Jesus] he rightly calls the Scriptures “a door,” for they bring us to God and open to us the knowledge of God. They make us his sheep. They guard us and do not let the wolves come in after us. For Scripture, like some sure door, bars the passage against the heretics, placing us in a state of safety as to all that we desire and not allowing us to wander. And, if we do not undo Scripture, we shall not easily be conquered by our enemies. By Scripture we can know all, both those who are and those who are not shepherds. But what does “into the fold” mean? It refers to the sheep and their care. For whoever does not use the Scriptures but “climbs up some other way,” that is, who cuts out for himself another and an unusual way, “the same is a thief.” . . . When our Lord further calls himself the door, we should not be surprised. According to the office that he bears, he is in one place the shepherd, in another the sheep. In that he introduces us to the Father, he is the door; in that he takes care of us, he is the shepherd.

From Homiles on the Gospel of John 59.2-3, by John Chrysostom, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVa, John 1-10, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2006).

Daily Reading for May 6

Leadership never happens in a vacuum, but among specific individuals in a particular context, which means we need to relate to them. Building these relationships is like building capital we can draw on when we want to challenge people to move forward in some new ways. If we do not take the time to make these connections, any changes we institute will be short-lived and will certainly not last beyond our tenure. The force for human togetherness is a powerful one, and leaders ignore it at their peril. In any church, large or small, we must be well-connected to key players, and find ways to communicate with everyone. Preachers, of course, have the pulpit, but it takes more than preaching to forge a solid connection with a congregation.

At the same time, leaders are not just one of the gang, and we have to be prepared to step apart from the group. Leaders have to be able to deal with the loneliness that ensues; we all want to be accepted, and it is hard to move apart. As I mentioned earlier, Ronald Heifetz describes this as the “view from the balcony,” getting above the fray enough to have a wider perspective. Heifetz suggests viewing ourselves as a part of the dance even when we are viewing from the balcony. Finding the balance between connecting with people and stepping ahead of them to lead is the ongoing dance of community life.

So in addition to a clear sense of ourselves and our purpose, we need to pay attention to our relationships. The content of our ideas and the course we chart are critically important. Still, those relationships determine the outcome of our leadership endeavors as much as our direction. The best leaders balance individuality and togetherness, moving ahead while fostering close ties with their followers. This is called “differentiated leadership” and at its most basic, it involves maintaining ourselves and staying in relationship with those around us.

Leaders need to find the right balance between closeness and distance. You cannot minister or lead in isolation. Still, solitude is necessary: you do need the time alone to think and pray. Yet then you need to come back into the fray, to connect with all the people: the ones you love as well as the ones who drive you up a wall.

From Leaders Who Last: Sustaining Yourself and Your Ministry by Margaret J. Marcuson. Copyright © 2009. Seabury Books, an imprint of Church Publishing. Used by permission of Church Publishing Incorporated, New York, NY. www.churchpublishing.org

Daily Reading for May 7

In her own discomfort with an apparently oversimplified view of the place of sin, Julian faced the terrible paradox of God’s goodness, the horrific evidence of the world’s evil, and the knowledge of damnation. Uniquely, she is led to a way of living in that paradox.

How in the face of God’s apparent total goodness and God’s apparent total power, could there continue to be sin and damnation? This was a contradiction which Julian longed to resolve—and which she finally brought to resolution in her own mystical and absolutely unique way, once again, in Merton’s words, “This is, for her, the heart of theology: not solving the contradiction, but remaining in the midst of it, in peace, knowing that it is fully solved, but that the solution is secret [in God], and will never be guessed until it is revealed [emphasis added].” . . .

To those of us who blanch at the too-evident sin of human beings and who can find no comfort or hope in a hateful, vengeful, and punishing God, Julian introduces the power of faith. “Look,” she would say, “you have faith in the immeasurable goodness and power of God, but in the face of that you can’t understand the existence and power of sin and its resulting pain—forget trying to ‘understand’ it. Trust that faith of yours, and leave the understanding of the paradox to God’s own revelation in His own time. He knows all that you know, and He has it all under control.”

From the introduction to 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

God is the goodness that cannot be angry, for He is nothing but goodness.
Our soul is one-ed to Him, who is unchangeable goodness,
and between God and our soul is neither anger nor forgiveness, as He sees it.
For our soul is so completely one-ed to God by His own goodness,
that there can be absolutely nothing at all separating God and soul.

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

Will you think less of him . . .
because to seek for what had wandered,
the good Shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep
came on the mountains and hills
on which you used to sacrifice
and found the wanderer?

And having found it,
he took it upon his shoulders,
on which he also bore the wood.

And having borne the wandering sheep,
he brought it back to the life above.

And having brought it back,
he numbered it among those who have never strayed.

From On Holy Easter, Oration 45.26 of Gregory of Nazianzus, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVa, John 1-10, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2006).

Daily Reading for May 10 • The Fifth Sunday of Easter

God chose to be our mother in all things
and so made the foundation of this work,
most humbly and most pure, in the virgin’s womb.

God the perfect wisdom of all,
was arrayed in this humble place.
Christ came in our poor flesh
to share a mother’s care.

Our mothers bore us for pain and for death;
our true mother, Jesus, bears us for joy and endless life.
Christ carried us within him in love and travail,
until the full time of his passion.

And when all was completed
and he had carried us so for joy,
still all this could not satisfy
the power of his wonderful love.

From a canticle based on Julian of Norwich, in the Community of St. Francis Office Book; quoted in Mary’s Hours: Daily Prayer with the Mother of God by Penelope Duckworth. Copyright © 2009. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 11

There is a place, we believe, at the center of the world,
Called Golgotha by the Jews in their native tongue.
Here was planted a tree cut from a barren stump:
This tree, I remember hearing, produced wholesome fruits,
But it did not bear these fruits for those who had settled there;
It was foreigners who picked these lovely fruits.

This is what the tree looked like: it rose from a single stem
And then extended its arms into two branches
Just like the heavy yardarms on which billowing sails are stretched
Or like the yoke beneath which two oxen are put to the plough.

The shoot that sprung from the first ripe seed
Germinated in the earth and then, miraculously,
On the third day it produced a branch once more,
Terrifying to the earth and to those above, but rich in life-giving fruit.
But over the next forty days it increased in strength,
Growing into a huge tree which touched the heavens
With its topmost branches and then hid its sacred head on high.
In the meantime it produced twelve branches of enormous
Weight and stretched forth, spreading them over the whole world:
They were to bring nourishment and eternal life to all
The nations and to teach them that death can die.

And then after a further fifty days had passed,
From its very top the tree caused a draught of divine nectar
To flow into its branches, a breeze of the heavenly spirit.
All over the tree the leaves were dripping with sweet dew.
And look! Beneath the branches’ shady cover
There was a spring, with waters bright and clear
For there was nothing there to disturb the calm. . . .
Around this spring countless races and peoples gathered,
Of different stock, sex, age and rank,
Married and unmarried, widows, young married women,
Babies, children and men, both young and old.

From the Tree of the Cross quoted in Ancient Christian Commenatry on Scripture: New Testament IVb, John 11-21, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2007).

Daily Reading for May 12

Several years ago I led a retreat whose theme was “I am the vine, and you are the branches.” What on earth can I find new to say about those very familiar words? I wondered. Instead of turning to the Bible commentaries, I took myself off to the local Barnes and Noble and got a few books on viticulture. It was fascinating. From my study of the cultivation of grapes two important things have stayed with me. First, all grapes need trellises if they are to bear much fruit, and there are many ways to build a trellis, depending on the variety of grape and the growing conditions. After all, not all grapes are alike; they need different kinds of support. Creating a rule of life is like that: what liberates one person may constrict another.

Likewise, what serves me well at this stage of my life would have been quite wrong, even damaging, for me as a twenty-year-old. From my viticulture book I also learned that growers of grapes know that the vine must not be tied too tightly to the trellis, but just snugly enough so that it is supported and free to flourish. Like the vines, we too need to be supported but not constricted, held up but not rendered immobile.

Making a rule, like devising a trellis, must have something to do with real people trying to get through their days mindfully and fruitfully. The very phrase “rule of life” suggests something far removed from modern life, and there is always the danger of romanticizing the past and seeking to live by an unreal and absurd standard that cannot be maintained. A rule of life for the rest of us has to be rooted in the here-and-now; it has to be germane and useful. But for Christians seeking to cultivate a life with God and one another, the classic monastic rules are a good place to begin.

From At Home in the World: A Rule of Life for the Rest of Us by Margaret Guenther. 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 13

Unless the branch is provided with the life-producing sap from its mother the vine, how will it bear grapes or what fruit will it bring forth—and from what source? . . . For no fruit of virtue will spring up anew in those of us who have fallen away from intimate union with Christ. To those, however, who are joined to the one who is able to strengthen them and who nourishes them in righteousness, the capacity to bear fruit will readily be added by the provision and grace of the Spirit, which is like a life-producing water.

From Cyril of Alexandria’s Commentary on the Gospel of John 10.2, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVb, John 11-21, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2007).

Daily Reading for May 14

The union of the Christian with Christ is not just a similarity of inclination and feeling, a mutual consent of minds and wills. It has a more radical, more mysterious and supernatural quality: it is a mystical union in which Christ Himself becomes the source and principle of divine life in me. Christ Himself, to use a metaphor based on Scripture, “breathes” in me divinely in giving me His Spirit. The ever renewed mission of the Spirit to the soul that is in the grace of Christ is to be understood by the analogy of the natural breath that keeps renewing, from moment to moment, our bodily life. The mystery of the Spirit is the mystery of selfless love. We receive Him in the “inspiration” of secret love, and we give Him to others in the outgoing of our own charity. Our life in Christ is then a life both of receiving and of giving. We receive from God, in the Spirit, and in the same Spirit we return our love to God through our brothers [and sisters].

From New Seeds of Contemplation by Thomas Merton (New York: New Directions Books, 1961).

Daily Reading for May 15

In true community we will not choose our companions, for our choices are so often limited by self-serving motives. Instead, our companions will be given to us by grace. Often they will be persons who will upset our settled view of self and world. In fact, we might define true community as that place where the person you least want to live with lives! . . .

Community reminds us that we are called to love, for community is a product of love in action and not of simple self-interest. Community can break our egos open to the experience of a God who cannot be contained by our conceptions. Community will teach us that our grip on truth is fragile and incomplete, that we need many ears to hear the fullness of God’s word for our lives. And the disappointments of community life can be transformed by our discovery that the only dependable power for life lies beyond all human structures and relationships.

In this religious grounding lies the only real hedge against the risk of disappointment in seeking community. That risk can be borne only if it is not community one seeks, but truth, light, God. Do not commit yourself to community, but commit yourself to God. . . . In that commitment you will find yourself drawn into community.

From A Place Called Community by Parker J. Palmer, Pendle Hill Pamphlet no. 212 (Pendle Hill Publications, 1977).

Daily Reading for May 16

A vine by its very nature is going where you do not know, twisting and turning and reaching and growing, surging with life, abiding and yet always on the move. I think Jesus chose this way of telling us who he is on purpose. If you want a solid, humdrum, no surprise life, then stay away from him. He is the vine and he is dangerous. He will trouble your life—and if he isn’t troubling our values and our assumptions then we are disconnected. This is true of individuals and it is true of churches. For if the life of Jesus is surging through you, you are no longer in control—either as a person or a community—and so if the life of Jesus is surging through us then no telling how he will grow and change us.

We are not invited to admire Jesus on Sunday and walk through our week cut loose—that is to live shallow and die, really. We are invited instead to trust and to know that we can abide and live in the vine that gives us direction and meaning and power. And so sometimes you are in a season of winter when nothing looks like it’s happening. And yet you abide. And sometimes you are in a season of confusing growth and lack of direction and yet you abide. And sometimes you get twisted around a situation you would never have chosen, and yet you abide. And sometimes you get pruned back—and let’s face it we all would prefer to do our own pruning, but we can’t—and so even in the pruning we abide. We are not the ultimate creators and shapers of our own lives. There is this unknowable Pruner, Shaper, Creator, God even beyond Jesus.

From “The Vine” in Alive and Loose in the Ordinary: Stories of the Incarnation by Martha Sterne. © 2006. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 17 • The Sixth Sunday of Easter

“This is my commandment.” Have you then only one precept? This is sufficient, even if it is unique and so great. Nevertheless he also said, “Do not kill,” because the one who loves does not kill. He said, “Do not steal,” because the one who loves does even more—he gives. He said, “Do not lie,” for the one who loves speaks the truth, against falsehood. “I give you a new commandment.” If you have not understood what “This is my commandment” means, let the apostle be summoned as interpreter and say, “The goal of his commandment is love.” What is its binding force? It is that of which [the Lord] spoke, “Whatever you want others to do to you, you should do also.” “Love one another” in accordance with this measure, “as I have loved you.” That is not possible, for you are our Lord who loves your servants. But we who are equals, how can we love one another as you have loved us? Nevertheless, he has said it. . . . His love is that he has called us his friends. If we were to give our life for you, would our love be equal to yours? . . . How then can what he said be explained, “As I have loved you”? “Let us die for each other,” he said. As for us, we do not even want to live for one another! “If I, who am your Lord and God, die for you, how much more should you die for one another.”

From the Commentary on Tatian’s Diatessaron by Ephrem the Syrian, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVb, John 11-21, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2007).

Daily Reading for May 18

Now, if observing the commandments is the essential sign of love, it is very greatly feared that without love even the most effective action of the glorious gifts of grace—even of the most sublime powers and even of faith itself and the commandment that makes a person perfect—will not be of help. . . . It is evident, therefore, and undeniable that without charity—even though ordinances are obeyed and righteous acts are performed, even though the commandments of the Lord have been observed and great wonders of grace effected—they will be considered as works of iniquity . . . because those who perform these acts have as their aim the gratification of their own will.

From Concerning Baptism by Basil the Great, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVb, John 11-21, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2007).

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

The Benedictine reform movement provided the impetus for the great burgeoning of English learning and literature—in both Latin and the vernacular—during the second half of the tenth century. . . . The beginning the monastic movement in England is conventionally dated to 940, the year in which Dunstan assumed the abbacy of Glastonbury. An anonymous Anglo-Saxon monk .B. wrote his biography, the Vita S. Dunstani, between 995 and 1005; from it we learn that Dunstan was a scholar of outstanding ability. He composed a number of Latin poems, and his handwriting may possibly be seen in several surviving manuscripts. But Dunstan was primarily effective as an administrator, and his long tenure of the archbishopric of Canterbury (960-88) saw the implementation of many of the ideas cherished by the English reformers. . . .

The monastic (or “Benedictine”) reform of the later tenth century was long overdue. Since the “golden age” of Wearmouth-Jarrow and York had departed with the onslaught of the Danish invasions at the end of the eighth century, the moral and cultural force of regular monastic discipline had languished in England. The extent to which spiritual dissolution had set in may be seen in Aelfric’s perhaps somewhat exaggerated account of conditions at Winchester in 963: “At that time in the Old Minster, where the bishop’s seat is situated, there were clerics living badly, possessed by pride, arrogance, and wantonness to such an extent that some of them refused to celebrate mass in their turn; they repudiated the wives whom they had taken unlawfully and married others, and continually devoted themselves to gluttony and drunkenness.” . . . With the accession of Edgar and his raising of Dunstan to the post of archbishop of Canterbury in 960, the monastic revival was firmly established. . . .

One of the first problems for the reform movement was to ensure uniform liturgical and disciplinary practices; diversity in such matters had become widespread because the number of monasteries had increased rapidly as a result of King Edgar’s personal commitment to the cause and his many gifts of land. Thus about 973 a Synodal Council was held at Winchester. This Council issued a Latin customary known as the Regularis Concordia, “The Agreement Concerning the Rule.” Intended as a supplement to the Benedictine Rule, it had a profound effect on the English church and its liturgy.

From A New Critical History of Old English Literature by Stanley B. Greenfield, Daniel Gillmore Calder, and Michael Lapidge (NYU Press, 1996).

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

The scholars and teachers Charlemagne brought to Aachen provide some clues about the various locales in which early medieval learning had survived. . . . Charlemagne brought an Anglo-Saxon, Alcuin of York, to Aachen after meeting him in Italy in 781. Alcuin had been trained in the English intellectual tradition of the Venerable Bede (died 735), the most prominent intellectual of his day, a monk who had welded together the study of humane letters and biblical scholarship. These scholar-teachers were hired by Charlemagne for several purposes.

First, Charlemagne wished to establish a system of education for the young of his kingdom. The primary purpose of these schools was to develop literacy; Alcuin of York developed a curriculm for them. He insisted that humane learning should consist of those studies that developed logic and science. . . . Beyond the foundation of schools, Charlemagne needed scholars to reform existing texts and to halt their terrible corruption, especially those used in church worship. Literary revival was closely connected with liturgical revival. Part of Charlemagne’s educational reform envisioned people who would read aloud and sing in church from decent, reliable texts. Literacy was conceived as a necessary prerequisite for worship.

Alcuin of York mainly worked at the task of revising the liturgical books. Alcuin published a book of Old and New Testament passages in Latin for public reading during Mass. He sent for books from Rome in order to publish a sacramentary, a book of prayers and rites for the administration of the sacraments of the church. Alcuin’s sacramentary was made obligatory for the churches of the Frankish kingdom in 785. Charlemagne made the Roman chant (called Gregorian after Pope Gregory the Great, who was said to have initiated such chants at the end of the sixth century) obligatory in all churches of his realm. Alcuin also attempted to correct scribal errors in the Vulgate Bible (the Latin version of Saint Jerome) by a comparative reading of manuscripts—a gigantic task he never completed.

From Culture and Values: A Survey of the Humanities by Lawrence S. Cunningham and John J. Reich, Alternate Volume, Sixth Edition (Cengage Learning, 2005).

Daily Reading for May 21 • Ascension Day

As the Resurrection of the Lord was a cause of rejoicing for us in the Paschal liturgy, so his Ascension into heaven is a matter of present delight for us. We recall and rightly venerate that day when our lowly nature was carried in Christ above all the hosts of heaven, over all the angelic orders and beyond the height of all powers, to the seat of God the Father. We have been established, we have been built in this order of divine works, that the grace of God becomes the more wonderful when those things which are felt to invite proper reverence are removed from the sight of human beings and still faith does not weaken, hope does not waver, love does not grow cold.

This is the strength of great souls, and it is the light of intensely faithful spirits to believe unhesitatingly what is not seen by bodily perception, and to fix their desire where they cannot fix their sight. From where would this devotion be born in our hearts; or how would anyone be “justified through faith” if our salvation consisted only in those things that lie under our eyes? . . .

So then, that we can be fit for this blessedness, dearly beloved, after all had been fulfilled that belonged to the preaching of the Gospel and the mysteries of the New Testament, our Lord Jesus Christ was raised to heaven. He made an end to his bodily presence in the sight of his disciples on the fortieth day after the Resurrection. . . . What was to be seen of our Redeemer has passed over into the Sacraments. In order that faith might be more perfect and more firm, teaching has taken the place of sight, and to this authority the hearts of believers, illumined by heavenly rays, have conformed.

From Sermon 74 (17 May 445) of Leo the Great, quoted in The Fathers of the Church: St. Leo the Great, Sermons, translated by Jane Patricia Freeland, C.S.J.B. and Agnes Josephine Conway, S.S.J. (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1996).

Daily Reading for May 22

The ascension of Jesus Christ into heaven does not separate him from us; rather, it involves us with him in the same destiny and the same way. For though he left the world, he did not leave his human nature. There is humanity in heaven now. This is the extraordinary thing which we are compelled to affirm again and again on this great festival. Humanity itself has been taken up into God. As the Fourth Gospel portrayed it at the very beginning, ‘Do you believe because I said I saw you under the fig tree? I tell you, you shall see the angels ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.’ The ladder of Jacob’s dream is now open to all of us in a constant to and fro access with heaven itself. Because of that it is possible for his will to be done on earth as it is in heaven, and Ascension Day challenges us to ascend in heart and mind, yes, even in our bodily action, where he has gone before.

‘Go and tell my brothers, for I am now ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God’, for your relationship is to be the same now, ‘that where I am, you may be also.’ I have taken humanity into the Godhead—there is your place, which I have gone to prepare for you. Live in God and let the life of God live in you, and refuse the old idea that heaven is distant from the life of this world, for it is no longer. The barriers have all been broken down.

From “I Am Ascending” in The Incarnate God by John V. Taylor. Copyright © 2003. A Continuum book used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 23 • Jackson Kemper, First Missionary Bishop in the United States, 1870 (transferred)

Constrained by the love of Christ, that love which induced him to humble himself even to the agonies and the death of the cross to rescue us from unutterable woe, we are to prove our faithfulness by a deep and abiding interest for the spiritual welfare of our fellow beings. God has commanded—and he who has tasted and knows that the Lord is gracious, will delight to fulfil his will. . . . Daily do we pray thy kingdom come—to come with power and peace to every heart, as well as to our own. And who is not anxiously solicitous for the honor of his Lord,—who does not cherish an intense desire to enlarge his Master's kingdom—who is not ready to make some sacrifices for Him who died that we might live?

This high commission—this magnificent effort—the Church HAS assumed. Christ loved the Church, and gave himself for it. By gratitude and love then, and every motive that can sway the human breast, is every member thereof bound to seek for the mind that was in Christ Jesus; and, as he imbibes that spirit, to watch and pray, and strive with increasing earnestness, that there may be one fold and one shepherd. . . . In the ordinal the ministry is alluded to as appointed for the salvation of mankind; and in reference to a newly consecrated Bishop, we pray for such grace, that he may ever more be ready to spread abroad the Gospel, the glad tidings of reconciliation. The highest council of our Church, erred not then when she openly declared that the field before her is the world; and that every baptized person is pledged to support the sacred cause of missions.

From The Duty of the Church with Respect to Missions, Being the Triennial Sermon, before the Bishops, Clergy and Laity, Constituting the Board of Missions of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America, Preached in St. Paul's Chapel, New-York, Thursday Evening, October 7, 1841 by Jackson Kemper (NewYork: The Board of Missions, 1841). http://anglicanhistory.org/usa/jkemper/duty1841.html

Daily Reading for May 24 • The Seventh Sunday of Easter

John, who especially brings out the working of spiritual causes in the Gospel, preserves this prayer of the Lord for the apostles that all the others passed over. Notice how he prayed, namely, “Holy Father, keep them in your name. . . . While I was with them, I kept them in your name: those whom you gave me I have kept.” That prayer was not for himself but for his apostles. He was not in sorrow for himself since he asks them to pray that they won’t be tempted. . . . And when he prays, he prays for those whom he preserved, so long as he was with them, whom he now hands over to the Father to preserve. Now that he is about to accomplish the mystery of death, he begs the Father to guard them. . . . He himself fulfills the petition of his prayer, and they are all safe. But he asks that those whom he has preserved the Father will now preserve in his own name. And they are preserved.

From On the Trinity by Hilary of Poitiers, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVb, John 11-21, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2007).

Daily Reading for May 25 • The Venerable Bede, Priest, and Monk of Jarrow, 735

Bede seems to have two major purposes in writing his History. . . . First of all, he is desirous of writing The Ecclesiastical History of the English People just as his title indicates, and this involves such concerns as chronological development, comprehensive treatment, fairness, accuracy, and attention to sources and to details that have usually been the objective goals and characteristics of good historians, but always under the subjective influence of his own perspectives and within the limitations under which he worked. His second major purpose is to relate the gradual movement of the peoples of his land from diversity to unity that he sees reflected in the decision for the Roman tradition of Christianity over the Celtic one, including the Roman way for calculating the date of Easter, that was made at the Synod of Whitby in the year 664. Bede had been born only a few years after that synod, and still by the time that he was completing his History in 731 there remained many traces of Celtic individualism that, to his orderly mind, militated against God’s unitary purpose and intended destiny for the land and its people. . . . As Bede saw things, there had long been much chaos and confusion, with Celtic monks and bishops still observing Celtic rites and the wrong date of Easter, thus placing themselves, in effect, out of communion with the See of Canterbury, which observed the Roman rites and kept the one true date of Easter. . . . This state of affairs had even gotten to the point, he says, that “it sometimes happened that Easter was celebrated twice in the same year, so that the king had finished the fast and was keeping [Celtic] Easter Sunday, while the queen and her people were still observing Lent and observing [Roman] Palm Sunday”! . . .

The debates at Whitby were conducted between Colman, bishop and abbot of Lindisfarne, representing the Celtic tradition that had come by way of Iona and Ireland from the north, and Wilfrid, abbot of Ripon and later archbishop of York, representing the Roman tradition of Christianity that had come from the southeast by means of St. Augustine, who had been sent to England by Pope Gregory the Great. . . . The Celtic argument, upheld by Colman and supported by Abbess Hilda and her community, focused on antiquity, individual choice, and decentralized authority, whereas the Roman argument, championed by Wilfrid, called for universality, discipline, and an understanding of doctrinal development under centralized, international leadership. Here at the Synod of Whitby the triumph of Roman Christianity over Celtic was sealed as the English Church was formally united by the decision of King Oswiu of Northumbria in favor of Rome. The political factors that had brought him to power also made possible this firm decision. Beded understandably makes this event, this synod, the pivotal turning-point of his entire History, . . . although it is possible that the lines between “Celt” and “Roman” were not as finely drawn as his account suggests.

From A Companion to Bede: A Reader’s Commentary on The Ecclesiastical History of the English People by J. Robert Wright (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008).

Daily Reading for May 26 • Augustine, First Archbishop of Canterbury, 605

‘Ite missa est,’ chanted the tall, olive-skinned priest; from the distinguished congregation came the response, ‘Deo Gratias.’ Echoing throughout not only the already old church of St Martin, Canterbury, but soon to ring out throughout England.

In the front of the congregation stood a strong, tall, blond man of middle age, by his side stood a dark, beautiful Gallic woman; both were wearing crowns on their heads.

St Augustine was the priest—Pope Gregory’s missionary to England; the King was Ethelbert, King of Kent, at his side was his wife, his Catholic Queen Bertha.

After Mass, Augustine said to his friend and fellow missionary, Lawrence, ‘This mission to England has started well, we have just celebrated Mass at Christmas in the year of our Lord 597, and it is only a short while ago that we landed at Ebbsfleet. This welcome and success in this city of Canterbury augurs well for it to be the centre of our mission to bring England to the Faith.’

From St Augustine of Canterbury by Michael A. Green (Janus Publishing Company, 1997).

Daily Reading for May 27

We give you thanks, Holy Father,
For your holy name which you
have caused to dwell in our hearts,
And for the knowledge and faith and immortality
Which you have made known to us
Through Jesus your servant;
To you be the glory forever. . . .

Remember your church, Lord,
To deliver it from all evil
And to make it perfect in your love;
And gather it, the one that has been sanctified,
From the four winds into your kingdom,
Which you have prepared for it;
For yours is the power and the glory forever.

From the Didache 10.2-5, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVb, John 11-21, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2007).

Daily Reading for May 28

Be sure, the psalmist tells us in Psalm 98, God is coming. Somehow, someway, God is coming to judge the earth, and that includes each one of us. And God comes again and again, in a variety of ways and times, to guide us and refine us.

And it’s important to keep in mind that it’s God who is to do the judging, not us. Thankfully, God will judge with righteousness and fairness.

The psalmist depicts all this as a joyful, positive thing. The whole world, the seas and hills, the world and all who live in it, will be exultant about God’s judgment. Because it’s right and true.

Scholars and teachers will argue until the end of time about the intricacies of God’s coming. But let’s keep focused on what we’re supposed to be doing in the meantime. Living as authentic and righteous a life as we can, following the ways of God as best we can, treating others fairly and lovingly rather than judging them. And praising the God who is our presence, our power, our righteousness all the days of our lives.

From Connected: You and God in the Psalms by Peter Wallace. Copyright © 2009. Used by permission of Morehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. www.morehousepublishing.com

Daily Reading for May 29

In a word, what the soul is to the body, Christians are to the world. The soul is dispersed through all the members of the body, and Christians throughout the cities of the world. The soul dwells in the body but is not of the body. Likewise, Christians dwell in the world but are not of the world. The soul, which is invisible, is confined in the body, which is visible. In the same way, Christians are recognized as being in the world, and yet their religion remains invisible. . . . The soul is enclosed in the body, but it holds the body together. And though Christians are detained in the world as if in a prison, they in fact hold the world together. The soul, which is immortal, lives in a mortal dwelling. In a similar way, Christians live as strangers amid perishable things, while waiting for the imperishable in heaven.

From the Letter to Diognetus 6, quoted in Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: New Testament IVb, John 11-21, edited by Joel C. Elowsky (Downer’s Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 2007).

Daily Reading for May 30 • Justin, Martyr at Rome, c. 167 [transferred]

We must now speak with respect to those who think meanly of the flesh, and say that it is not worthy of the resurrection nor of the heavenly economy, because, first, its substance is earth; and besides, because it is full of all wickedness, so that it forces the soul to sin along with it. But these persons seem to be ignorant of the whole work of God, both of the genesis and formation of man at the first, and why the things in the world were made. For does not the word say, “Let Us make man in our image, and after our likeness?” What kind of man? Manifestly He means fleshly man, for the word says, “And God took dust of the earth, and made man.” It is evident, therefore, that man made in the image of God was of flesh. Is it not, then, absurd to say, that the flesh made by God in His own image is contemptible, and worth nothing? But that the flesh is with God a precious possession is manifest, first from its being formed by Him, if at least the image is valuable to the former and artist; and besides, its value can be gathered from the creation of the rest of the world. For that on account of which the rest is made, is the most precious of all to the maker. . . .

But, in truth, He has even called the flesh to the resurrection, and promises to it everlasting life. For where He promises to save man, there He gives the promise to the flesh. For what is man but the reasonable animal composed of body and soul? Is the soul by itself man? No; but the soul of man. Would the body be called man? No, but it is called the body of man. If, then, neither of these is by itself man, but that which is made up of the two together is called man, and God has called man to life and resurrection. He has called not a part, but the whole, which is the soul and the body. Since would it not be unquestionably absurd, if, while these two are in the same being and according to the same law, the one were saved and the other not? And if it be not impossible, as has already been proved, that the flesh be regenerated, what is the distinction on the ground of which the soul is saved and the body not? Do they make God a grudging God? But He is good, and will have all to be saved.

From Fragments of the Lost Work of Justin on the Resurrection, translated by the Rev. M. Dods, M.A. http://www.ccel.org/ccel/schaff/anf01.viii.viii.html

Daily Reading for May 31 • The Day of Pentecost

In his study of mysticism, The Idea of the Holy, Rudolf Otto describes both a sense of awe and a sense of dread when encountering the numinous. Like wind and fire in nature provoking situations of danger or comfort, wind and fire in scripture symbolize Divine Presence evoking awe and terror, fascination and comfort.

I think it is impossible to approach Pentecost without a sense of dread. The purpose of Christian initiation is new birth. It takes us from Advent to Pentecost Day to practice all the modes of consciousness and wisdom and difficulty that prepares us for this day of rebirth by wind and fire. Apostolos means “sent.” We are “sent” with the Good News to the “ends of the earth” as Apostles of Good News. But Good News is real change, and change is dangerous, and often not received well.

What fire purifies you with awe and fascination and dread? The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest its voice, but thou knowest not whence it cometh and whether it goeth; so is every one that is born of the spirit. Where are you sent?

From Suzanne Guthrie’s meditation on the “Day of Pentecost: Wind and Fire,” found at http://www.edgeofenclosure.org/mysticaljourney/pentecostday.html.