Today, October 03, is the 800 th Anniversary of the Transitus of St. Francis In his remembrance: The Canticle of the Creatures by St. Francis of Assisi Most High, all-powerful, good Lord, Yours are the praises, the glory, and the honor, and all blessing, To You alone, Most High, do they belong, and no human is worthy to mention Your name. Praised be You, my Lord, with all Your creatures, especially Sir Brother Sun, Who is the day and through whom You give us light. And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendor; and bears a likeness of You, Most High One. Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars, in heaven You formed them clear and precious and beautiful. Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Wind, and through the air, cloudy and serene, and every kind of weather, through whom You give sustenance to Your creatures. Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water, who is very useful and humble and precious and chaste. Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom You light the night, and he is beautiful and playful and robust and strong. Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us, and who produces various fruit with colored flowers and herbs. … Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks and serve Him with great humility.

SCRIPTURE Romans 10:15b How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news. WORDS OF HOPE The spouse who sits bed side in the emergency room, staring into the eyes of their beloved, holding them in love to ease their discomfort and uncertainty. The cafeteria worker who puts a little extra pudding on the tray of a child whose school lunch debt was paid off and the anonymous donor who gave up his prison earnings so that a kid could eat. The older sibling picking up their younger sister from the couch, half asleep and droopy, and putting them in their own bed and then returning to the couch to sleep a few hours before their mother comes home from her third shift. The aid worker who holds the frightened, screaming mother in their arms as the first responders dig through the rubble looking for survivors in the bombed-out house in Ukraine, or Gaza, or Iran. How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news. The night shift worker who tells a joke about a priest, a rabbi, and a bartender in the break room to lift the spirits of their weary co-workers, providing a moment of levity and laughter before returning to sweep and mop. The Meals on Wheels volunteer who brings not only a warm tray of chicken and rice, but also a button-up sweater they spotted at a thrift store for the elderly shut-in living alone in a little house off the main road, mostly unseen by the world passing by. The kind stranger who pulls off the road to help a single mother change a flat tire, using his own jack and tire iron. He offers to take the damaged tire to be repaired and promises to bring it back. Before leaving, he slips a $50 bill onto the front seat and gives a wink to the two kids watching from the back. How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news. The highly paid first-world surgeon who spends a month every year in the rural areas of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, dispensing HIV-medicine, delivering babies, and teaching hygiene to the poorest of the poor on the outskirts of the city. The classroom of Texas third graders and their amazing teacher, who hold a walk-a-thon and a bake sale and a book reading contest to raise money for another classroom of third graders and their amazing teacher in Honduras. The young man who, on his daily jog through the park, finds a shivering, whimpering dog abandoned in the bushes. He takes her home, feeds her, and holds her until she finally relaxes and falls asleep among blankets and pillows. Best of all, he gives her a name—and a home to call her own. How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news. Behind the scenes, without social media hype, and with insufficient funds, beautiful feet are bringing good news. Jesus bids us to walk with our feet to places where light, life, love, hope and peace are needed. PRAYER From the Service of Compline in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer: Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who sleep. Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR  Thomas Riggs

SCRIPTURE Colossians 2.16-17 Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or regarding a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ. WORDS OF HOPE I’ve heard it said (by an irreverent friend) that the first thing Jesus would do on his return would be to eliminate religion, especially regarding all the random rituals, rules of do’s and don’t’s, and especially lists of people to hate or fear in what some denominations define as today’s Christianity. The Bible reading of the day indicates that the Apostle Paul would not endorse their judgments. Paul wrote his letters to the Colossians while imprisoned in Rome, a political prisoner of people who considered his teachings both blasphemous to their religion and a threat to the oppressive State. While following his calling to spread the substance of the Love message taught by Jesus, the Apostle spent most of his time contending with the corruption of the Temple authorities at home coupled with the authoritarianism of the Roman religion which declared Caesar was God. Religion condemned Paul to a lot of jail time.  The Letters to new converts like the Colossians make it obvious to us that Paul was often engaged in damage control as he answered questions that we will never read, clarifying false notions about religious practices that pre-dated the love-centered teachings of the Christ. His readers just couldn’t comprehend that Jesus’ love had no conditions. He was offering them freedom from old rules, not presenting them with a collection of new ones. Freedom from religion was a concept people of the first century had great difficulty grasping. Some were gentiles who lived under the rule of Rome’s State Religion based on the statutes of multiple deities who required countless religious rituals and duties. Others were Paul’s Jewish brethren who still lived under the Hebrew Scripture’s list of not just 10, but 613 Commandments. Then along came Jesus who simply stated: “Love one another,” saying, “I have not come to abolish the [Commandments] but to fulfill them.” (Matthew 5:17). -In other words, Freedom from Religion. It’s not difficult to understand why the corrupt leaders of both church and state hated Jesus. He made their oppressive control systems obsolete and awarded the people they ruled with the gift of individual freedom. That doesn’t mean that people like Paul would be exempt from persecution, but that he would be assured wherever he was in the physical world, his spirit would be forever free. He knew that it was the power brokers and false prophets who would never know freedom, imprisoning themselves in a narrow belief system that promoted what they wanted to be true for their own benefit. They would spend their lives passing judgment, demanding rituals, forcing their exclusive beliefs on others, promoting hatred for anyone outside their own closed system. And, sad to say, their descendants are still among us. They were truly shadows of the things to come, never knowing the substance belongs to Christ. PRAYER Thank you for the plain teachings of Jesus, whose message of universal love needs no clarifications or amendments, only practice and the privilege to serve others as he would serve them. DEVOTION AUTHOR Dan Peeler Order of St. Francis and St. Clare

SCRIPTURE Romans 10:15b–21 “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” WORDS OF HOPE A Faith That Finds Its Voice There is something beautiful about a voice that carries good news. Paul reminds us in Romans 10 that faith is not meant to be silent. The good news is something we hear, something we share, and ultimately something we embody through the way we live. But what is the good news? For me, the good news is not a message of exclusion, judgment, or fear. It is the message we see in the life and teachings of Jesus: that God’s love is wider than we imagine, grace is deeper than we deserve, and every person is worthy of dignity, welcome, and belonging. That is part of what makes Cathedral of Hope such a sacred community. We believe in a Gospel that welcomes all people, no matter who they are or where they are on life’s journey. Our faith calls us to move beyond simply hearing the good news and to become the good news for others through radical inclusivity, passionate worship, compassionate service, and an unwavering commitment to justice. Today is also Kids’ Music Day, and I cannot help but think about my daughter, Sofia, and her love of music. There is something wonderful about watching a child discover the power of music, the excitement of finding a melody, learning a rhythm, or discovering that her own voice can contribute to something bigger than herself. Perhaps that is a picture of faith, too. Every one of us has a voice. Every one of us has a song, and the world desperately needs voices that speak hope into the world. Paul reminds us that not everyone will listen. Some will resist. Some will turn away. Yet our calling remains the same: to keep sharing the good news. So today, let us ask ourselves: What song is my life singing? What good news am I carrying into the world? May our words, our actions, our worship, and our lives proclaim the radical love of God, and may the world hear in us a beautiful song of proclaiming Christ through faith, hope, and love. PRAYER God of every voice and every song, help us carry your good news into a world that needs hope. May our lives become instruments of your love, justice, welcome, and peace. Give us courage to speak, humility to listen, and hearts willing to make room for everyone. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Rev. Dr. Neil G. Thomas Senior Pastor Cathedral of Hope. Dallas

SCRIPTURE Philippians 1:18-20 NIV But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice. Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and God’s provision of the Spirit of Jesus Christ what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. WORDS OF HOPE Many years ago, while working in the Division of Student Affairs at the University of Arkansas, I reached a point in my career when I felt confident about where I was headed. I had several years of experience, understood the inner workings of the department, had been successful in my work, and had a good record as an employee. I had worked hard, and I believed the next step would naturally be a supervisory position. When that position became available, I applied. Honestly, I expected to get it. Then something happened I wasn't prepared for. Someone from another university—an outsider who didn't know our department, our people, or our way of doing things—applied for the position. That person was hired and became my supervisor. I wish I could say that I immediately welcomed the decision with complete grace and enthusiasm. But I didn't. I could congratulate the new supervisor on the outside while wrestling with something very different on the inside: “What about me? I worked hard, too. I have the experience. I have been here longer. Didn't that count for something?” My disappointment was real, and if I'm honest, so was my struggle to rejoice in someone else's success. Years later, I read Paul's words in Philippians. Paul writes about people proclaiming Christ with motives that weren’t entirely pure. However, his response is remarkably simple: “What does it matter? The important thing is that in every way Christ is being preached. And because of this I rejoice.” Paul was able to move his attention away from himself and move toward something greater than himself. The question was no longer, “Who gets the credit?” but “Is Christ being proclaimed?” That challenges me because I know how easy it is to make someone else's success a measurement of my own worth. When another person receives the position, the praise, the recognition, or the spotlight I wanted, I can feel as though their light somehow makes mine dimmer. But perhaps that is not how God sees it at all. God has not asked me to compete with another person's light. He has asked me to be faithful with the light He has given me. A candle does not become less of a candle because another candle burns more brightly. And when one candle lights another, the room does not become darker—it becomes brighter. Perhaps that is what Paul was learning, and what I am still learning. A nother person's success is not my failure, another person's recognition is not my rejection, and another person's light does not diminish the light God has entrusted to me. RECEIVE THIS BLESSING O Lord, help me to learn to genuinely rejoice and learn to say, even when it is difficult, “God, thank you for the gifts You have given that person. Let their light shine.” DEVOTION AUTHOR David Sims, Deacon

SCRIPTURE  Philippians 1:3–14 I thank my God every time I remember you.” WORDS OF HOPE Family Day According to Lilo & Stitch, “ohana means family.” Nobody gets left behind or forgotten. It is a simple idea, perhaps almost too simple for adults who have spent centuries finding ways to make family complicated. But children sometimes understand what grown-ups forget: family is about belonging. It is where we learn our names, our stories, our jokes, our traditions, and those wonderfully strange rituals that make a household uniquely itself. It is also where somebody remembers the embarrassing story you were absolutely certain had been permanently deleted from history. On Family Day, then, I find myself wondering: What if family was never meant to fit inside one picture? What if the mystery of family is that it keeps becoming larger than the definitions we give it? We tend to carry around an image of what a family is supposed to look like: a mother, a father, 2.3 children, a pet, a minivan, a mortgage, and perhaps a white picket fence for good measure. Somewhere along the way, we took one particular arrangement and promoted it from one way of being a family to the definition of family, as though God had handed us a blueprint from heaven and said, “Congratulations. This is the only acceptable floor plan.” But real families have never been that tidy, and neither has Scripture. The Bible is filled with widows and orphans, unmarried people, blended and extended households, friends who become family, and communities that gather around people when traditional structures fail. Scripture gives us families who are complicated, grieving, surprising, imperfect, and occasionally downright chaotic. Maybe the Bible's refusal to give us one perfect family portrait is not a problem to solve. Maybe it is an invitation to wonder at all the ways love creates belonging. I grew up in what many people would describe as a traditional nuclear family. I was raised by a mom and dad, and I have a younger sister who is about three and a half years younger than me. Today, another branch has been added to our family tree through my nephew, Maverick. And I get to be the best uncle ever. I am grateful for the family I was given—the people who remember my childhood, my awkward phases, my victories, my failures, and the stories I would prefer never to be repeated at Thanksgiving. Families have a remarkable memory, after all. It remembers the adorable things we did, the ridiculous things we did, and, inconveniently, the things we were really hoping everyone else had forgotten. But being grateful for my own family does not mean believing everyone else's family must look like mine. The older I get, the more I wonder whether the beauty of family is found not in uniformity but in its astonishing variety. Spend some time at Cathedral of Hope, and that variety becomes visible almost immediately. I see two men raising children. I see two women raising children. I see LGBTQIA+ families, grandparents raising grandchildren, blended families, adoptive families, single-parent families, multigenerational families, and families whose stories refuse to fit neatly inside a census form. And beneath all those different arrangements is something wonderfully ordinary: people loving one another, laughing together, crying together, caring for one another, showing up when somebody needs help, and occasionally wondering who ate the last cookie. Two dads raising a child is not a sin. Two moms raising a child is not a sin. An LGBTQIA+ family is not a defective version of a “real” family. Families that take other forms deserve the same dignity and care. Even polyamorous families, remind us that human love has never been quite as tidy as the boxes we try to build around it. Perhaps the better question is not whether a family looks familiar to us, but whether love is flourishing there—whether people care for one another, protect one another, take responsibility for one another, and show up when it matters. For some families, that sense of connection reaches backward across generations. Family can be carried through names, stories, traditions, and memories that existed long before we were born. Scottish clans offer one striking example. I have a connection to Clan Stewart, and that connection reminds me that family can sometimes reach farther into the past than our own memories can. The Stewarts were not simply a Scottish clan; the Stewart dynasty eventually became one of the great royal dynasties of the British Isles. That history eventually leads us to the modern British royal family and to King Charles III, who inherited the Crown after the death of his mother, Queen Elizabeth II. Whatever we may think about monarchy, there is something fascinating about the way family can carry history forward—through names, traditions, responsibilities, stories, and sometimes even titles. And then there are chosen families—the people who may not share our DNA or our last name but somehow become part of the story of who we are. As an LGBTQIA+ ally, I have a chosen family at Cathedral of Hope. At the 10 a.m. service, I sit in the front row behind the acolytes and lay ministers of worship, among what I sometimes affectionately call the Holy Troublemakers. We ask questions. We challenge assumptions. We believe LGBTQIA+ people belong fully in the church. Not halfway. Not with an asterisk. Not after passing some theological entrance exam. Fully. We believe faith should lead us toward compassion, welcome, justice, and love rather than fear and exclusion. But these are not simply theological convictions for me. These are my friends. We do things together. We laugh together. We cry together. We celebrate together. We sit with one another when life gets difficult. We show up. We make memories. We probably occasionally drive one another a little crazy, because apparently that is also one of the privileges of family. The household of God is larger than our family trees. The table of God is wider than our dining rooms. God's love keeps surprising us with people we did not expect to call family. So, celebrate the family you were born into. Give thanks for the family you have chosen. Remember the people who have laughed with you, cried with you, prayed with you, celebrated with you, and loved you into becoming who you are. Then look around. Who is standing at the edge of the room, wondering whether there is a place for them? There is. Pull up a chair. Because ohana means family. And perhaps the deepest miracle of all is that God's family keeps reminding us that nobody is meant to be left behind or forgotten. PRAYER Loving God, thank you for the many forms family can take—for the families we are born into, the families we create, and the chosen families who walk beside us. Thank you for every parent, child, sibling, grandparent, friend, and community that reminds us we belong. Help us to make room at our tables and in our hearts for all people. May no one be forgotten, rejected, or left behind. Teach us to love as you love: generously, compassionately, and without conditions. May we always remember that your family is bigger than our definitions and your table has room for everyone. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Reed Kirkman

SCRIPTURE Mark 5:36 But ignoring what they said, Jesus said to the ruler of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” WORDS OF HOPE Fear, Discomfort, and a Christ-Like Faith We live in turbulent times—but not in circumstances unknown to history. Historically, names, terminology, and context may change, but dynamics repeat themselves. Power, fame, fortune, justice, and human rights are often the underlying themes of issues we face. Fear of change, abuse of power, religious or moral beliefs, and loss of freedoms or fortune shape the dynamics or become the drivers of unrest, social change and paradigm shifts. People have feared or raised issues with the horse as well as the automobile, the train and the turbojet. Religion has clashed with education and science since before the time of Christ. More recently, the use of vaccines, the development of robotics, and the rise of Artificial Intelligence have been the target of both praise and skepticism. Tyranny and genocide, racism and ethnic prejudice, civil liberties and social justice have all given rise to anxious times, political turmoil, human migration, international conflict and savage wars. It’s important to be clear that fear, discomfort, and reality are separate issues. · We may fear that which is different: this includes new ideas or perspectives; or people of a different race, color, creed, culture or orientation. · We may fear what we do not understand due to lack of experience; adverse experiences such as violence or war; or accepting falsehoods or prejudice that others try to promote. · We may find change of any kind both uncomfortable and distressing. But we choose to live in the reality of love, grounded by the life and faith of Jesus. We look beyond fear and distress to determine what is TRUE and what ULTIMATELY MATTERS. From the Christian perspective, love overcomes fear. Worry is diminished by faith, trust and hope. Anxiety is the “check-engine” light that tells us to stop, breathe, and look inside to clarify our feelings, thoughts, and beliefs. We anchor ourselves in the love of the Christ. Serenity is choosing to live by faith, creating the love, hope and promise the world needs to see. This is the Truth and reality for People of the Way of Jesus. PRAYER Holy One, calm my anxious mind and heart that I may more perfectly love. Today, I choose to live by faith, creating the love, hope and promise the world needs to see. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Rev. Dr. Gary G. Kindley Pastoral Psychotherapist DrGK.org

SCRIPTURE “Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all God’s benefits.” Psalm 103: 2 “I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all your works and consider what your hands have done.” Psalm 143:5 WORDS OF HOPE  We hear so much today about the importance of staying in the moment, about mindfulness, focus, attention, and the physical, psychological and spiritual benefits of these practices—especially in the distracted, divisive, and distraught world we live in. I certainly honor these. And yet I wonder if, in centering these, we have undervalued an important spiritual practice: remembering. Consider, if you will, the value of some ways of sacred recollection. Remembering Scripture: The two verses above from Psalms stress these practices. In the first, not forgetting God’s gifts to us and saving deeds provides a wellspring of praise. Psalms 143 states it directly—to remember the days of old, the wondrous works of God’s hands-- and goes even further, to encourage us to ponder and meditate upon the impact and significance of these. One of the most powerful promises is offered in Isaiah 43: 1-3. Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God…. For generations people have been delivered from anxiety and the threat of harm by remembering and trusting in these words of God’s presence and protection. Particularly, when you are feeling beset by the pain and hardship of life, lifting to consciousness scriptures which have anchored you, guided you, and comforted you in past times can lighten the load again. Remembering with Ritual: The recent grief, love and remembrance rituals of the 25 th anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy have helped restore the power of these deeply moving modes of solemn witness and honoring for individual, communities, and the nation. Personal grief rituals are meaningful as well. Visiting a grave and leaving flowers, making a loved one’s favorite meal, sharing stories with family or friends, revisiting a special place and scattering ashes, playing a special song, writing a letter which speaks of ongoing love or expresses to the spirit of the beloved how you are doing are a few rituals, often offered on the anniversary of a loved one’s death. Remembering our own Grace experiences: Because I carry so vividly and gratefully the visitations of Grace in my life, I return again and again to the line: “Oh, to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be…”*These experiences may be subtle touches or dramatic resurrecting events. No matter what, returning to them in memory can help keep us afloat in the times our hope is nowhere to be found. Each Sunday we re-enact our central ritual of Grace when we share communion with lines that echo through the centuries: “Do this in remembrance of me.” We remember the night Jesus was betrayed that the bread and the cup were offered to all --in their wholeness—goodness and flaws together. We remember the sacrifice of love. PRAYER Holy God, you call us to remember how prone to wander we are and about how your Grace has healed us, saved us, and given us a vision of hope and new possibilities when we could not see. There is no way we can thank you enough except by living our lives in service. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Dr. Pat Saxon *From “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing”

SCRIPTURE  Matthew 18: 1-5 At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.” WORDS OF HOPE I find that life is a continuous process of remembering who we really are and letting go of all the things society says we “should be.” This Scripture offers such a powerful shift in how to live. It resonates with me because I believe we’re at our most whole when we bring forth the curiosity and compassion we all experienced as children. I’ve been working through the Internal Family Systems (IFS) method with my therapist. In Self-Therapy Workbook, Bonnie J. Weiss describes IFS as recognizing “our psyche is made up of different parts” and “understanding and working with these parts to release the burdens they carry from the past and heal the system so you can function in healthy ways.” In doing this work, I identified each of my parts and their core belief and wrote them on Post-it notes. One of my parts is my Big-Hearted, Creative Child. He believes that “the nostalgia of childhood is anchoring, energizing, and makes me feel safe. I can see things with childlike wonder and excitement. Every day can be an adventure. Ordinary things can be extraordinary.” When I feel frustrated with work or scared about the state of the world, I pray to God for wisdom. Then I ask Big-Hearted, Creative Child what he needs. Sometimes it’s to let go of my ego, laugh, and not take everything so seriously. Other times it’s to have hope and believe that challenges happen for my growth and can become my greatest treasures. No matter what he tells me, I’m certain that when I listen, I become more aligned and feel a greater sense of peace. I encourage you to take this Scripture to heart and “become like little children” in whatever way feels authentic to you. It could end up being one of the greatest gifts you give yourself. PRAYER The divine power of God lives within me and nurtures and protects my inner child. DEVOTION AUTHOR Logan Alexander Johnson