Daily Devotions and Podcasts
Prayer: Lord, help me to see You in every part of my day, even in the places I least expect. Open my eyes to Your presence in the ordinary and the extraordinary moments of life. Amen.
The Cathedral of Hope Devotion Ministry began as an answer to Progressive Christians who wanted to start their days with a little insight, observation, or wisdom about the Christian faith from their own point of view. Conservative internet devotions were abundant, but there was not much out there for liberal thinkers. The need was clear.
Being a large church, we had a generous amount of writing talent available and also a large number of congregants with theological training who were not on the pulpit. In the early days of the ministry, most of the writing was done by the clergy, but gradually the majority of the writers emerged from those lay volunteers.
That dynamic is still in place as new authors are always joining in to keep the ideas fresh. It’s a fitting structure for any center of progressive thought. This particular Body of Christ has many voices and each one has a unique and important story to tell.
SCRIPTURE Ephesians 6.13-17 Therefore, take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness… With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. WORDS OF HOPE Decades ago, I remember my grandmother sitting at her ancient Singer sewing machine, finishing one of the hundreds of little shirts she routinely made for a local Baptist Orphan’s Home, while quoting today’s reading from Ephesians to me. She loved the colorful symbolism and knew the word pictures would remind me of the brave Round Table knights and Sherwood Forest rebels whose adventures inspired my imagination in those days. Lancelot and Robin Hood never failed to douse the flaming arrows of the evil ones. She was also quick to remind me that the list of weapons was symbolic and what Paul was talking about was the power of the Word of God. She mentioned the Apostle Paul in a familiar tone, as if she had gone to high school with him. Observing her silver-gray hair, pulled back into a bun, I thought she probably had. Now, being about the same age she was then, I know she wasn’t that old after all, but her wisdom was. One example of her eternal wisdom was another observation she made about this passage. “You don’t have to go too far from home to watch out for those flaming arrows.” She was referring to her ongoing religious debates with her sister, my Aunt Nora, about how a good Christian should behave. Nora was our Presbyterian church’s self-appointed expert on proper religious tradition. (She was also the church gossip.) I overheard one of these sessions from another room once. I remember Nora lecturing my grandmother about not always standing up with the rest of the congregation during appointed times of the worship service. “I’m old, Nora,” was my grandmother’s only comment. “I don’t care how old you are,” Aunt Nora retaliated. “A good Christian always stands up!” My grandmother thought it over briefly and then casually replied. “Then why do you stand up?” I left the other room to avoid being discovered doubled over with laughter. Today, my grandmother’s words are still with me. There are more flaming arrows flying now than I can ever remember, filling the air, the airwaves, and social media with hateful words and accusations as to who a true Christian really is, but more frequently who isn’t. It takes the whole armor of God and sometimes even an old Singer sewing machine to remember the difference. PRAYER Thank you for the power of your words and the generations of your followers who have lived their lives by them. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Dan Peeler Order of St. Francis and St. Clare
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Words of Hope Podcast
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SCRIPTURE Ephesians 6.13-17 Therefore, take up the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to withstand on that evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand therefore, and fasten the belt of truth around your waist, and put on the breastplate of righteousness… With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. WORDS OF HOPE Decades ago, I remember my grandmother sitting at her ancient Singer sewing machine, finishing one of the hundreds of little shirts she routinely made for a local Baptist Orphan’s Home, while quoting today’s reading from Ephesians to me. She loved the colorful symbolism and knew the word pictures would remind me of the brave Round Table knights and Sherwood Forest rebels whose adventures inspired my imagination in those days. Lancelot and Robin Hood never failed to douse the flaming arrows of the evil ones. She was also quick to remind me that the list of weapons was symbolic and what Paul was talking about was the power of the Word of God. She mentioned the Apostle Paul in a familiar tone, as if she had gone to high school with him. Observing her silver-gray hair, pulled back into a bun, I thought she probably had. Now, being about the same age she was then, I know she wasn’t that old after all, but her wisdom was. One example of her eternal wisdom was another observation she made about this passage. “You don’t have to go too far from home to watch out for those flaming arrows.” She was referring to her ongoing religious debates with her sister, my Aunt Nora, about how a good Christian should behave. Nora was our Presbyterian church’s self-appointed expert on proper religious tradition. (She was also the church gossip.) I overheard one of these sessions from another room once. I remember Nora lecturing my grandmother about not always standing up with the rest of the congregation during appointed times of the worship service. “I’m old, Nora,” was my grandmother’s only comment. “I don’t care how old you are,” Aunt Nora retaliated. “A good Christian always stands up!” My grandmother thought it over briefly and then casually replied. “Then why do you stand up?” I left the other room to avoid being discovered doubled over with laughter. Today, my grandmother’s words are still with me. There are more flaming arrows flying now than I can ever remember, filling the air, the airwaves, and social media with hateful words and accusations as to who a true Christian really is, but more frequently who isn’t. It takes the whole armor of God and sometimes even an old Singer sewing machine to remember the difference. PRAYER Thank you for the power of your words and the generations of your followers who have lived their lives by them. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Dan Peeler Order of St. Francis and St. Clare
SCRIPTURE ļ»æ Proverbs 4: 25-26 Let your eyes look directly ahead and let your gaze be fixed straight in front of you. Watch the path of your feet and all your ways will be established. WORDS OF HOPE Never has this scripture been more meaningful than during my recent back injury. When leaving the hospital in a brace that strongly resembled gladiator armor, I was sternly warned I could neither turn left, right or bend down. In fact, I was told I should simply look forward and walk slowly so I didn’t fall. Maintaining that straight forward position was extremely uncomfortable. It didn’t matter if I was sitting, walking or whatever, the longer the brace stayed on the more cumbersome it became. Soon I was struggling to do anything except as suggested, just keep looking forward. My thoughts were running rampant with what I couldn’t do, where I couldn’t go and how long I would be in this gloom. I became so focused on unfinished projects, what needed attention and what I should be doing instead of just “being in the moment”. Then it hit me, what a metaphor of my life as I sat there at my desk, being forced to “only” look forward! The most precious gift we are given is free will, which allows us to change our thoughts. Ultimately the choice is mine to look back on what was, be afraid of what might be, or look forward to possibilities. God didn’t build those walls of fear, I did. The Great Wall of China was built out of fear. Its fortress was so high and thick no one could ever knock it down or climb over it. Ironically, the few times they were invaded, someone bribed the gatekeeper and the opposing army simply marched through the open gates. I had let distractions take my eyes away from being at peace and stopped looking forward. It was time to remember; I can’t plow a straight line while focused on what’s behind me. PRAYER God of peace, thank you for allowing the brokenness to become a vessel of gratefulness, for free will and the promise of everlasting love…Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Donna Jackson
SCRIPTURE ļ»æ Luke 10:29 And who is my neighbor? WORDS OF HOPE It’s Sunday morning, so Sage and I are taking an early, early walk. Though it’s no longer dark, the clouds are just barely tinged with rose blush. As we turn east and pass one house after another, those who live there come to mind—the young woman in dental school and her house mate, the couple with a 3-year-old autistic son, a retired veteran with mobility challenges who grieves the death of his beloved German shepherd. Though Sage is a curious dog and friendly with most everyone, she has her favorite neighbors, so she tugs me toward the house across the street where a family--husband, wife, and adult son—abide. Last year they started a lawn and clean up service and are some of the hardest working people I know. Sage is hoping for a belly rub or scruff of her fur before they go off to work, but they are not out yet, hopefully still enjoying a well-deserved rest. As we come to the end of the block, an ache fills my chest. Though the light is on, no Sarah sits on the front porch enjoying the morning and no Keith engages us with his stories. Nor does Osso, their deaf yellow lab, voice his defense of the house as we come by. When Keith told me they were moving about month ago, it was like a kick in the gut. I really miss them. Keith’s warmth and willingness to chat draws people out. Over time we talked of his prize- winning barbeque sauce recipe, his former job filming Dallas Cowboy games for a local TV station, being at the lake, families, and much more. We’ve exchanged fresh tomatoes from his garden and peaches from my favorite orchard in East Texas, and recently he shared a delicious Mexican casserole he made. Once, when Sage’s legs hurt too much to walk any more, he stayed with her while I got the car and took her home. No politics, though, except for one day we slid that way unknowingly when he named the downtown church they attend—one which preaches hatred for gay people. I winced inside, but with this gracious, caring couple---well, that hatred just didn’t stick. Every morning and evening I still sense the emptiness of where they would have been. Grief over neighbors who have moved away is one of the many types of unattended sorrow we carry. I am so grateful for my good neighbors and this morning I hear the ancient question: Who is my neighbor? The answer expands in concentric circles wider and wider. My neighbor is the unhoused woman in a black hijab who takes shelter near the QT, the chatty clerk at Tom Thumb, the irritating solicitors who ignore “no solicitation” signs, the crews tearing up our streets for a city project, but who at the end of a hard day pause to play with Sage. My neighbor is a sister grieving her brother Lindsey Graham and the advocates working passionately to secure safe medical care for women in anti-abortion states. Neighbors are Israelis and Palestinians both carrying ancient wounds, the starving people in the Sudan and the ebola nurses seeking to save lives in Eastern Congo. My neighbor is the great Pacific octopus and the grizzly bear feasting on salmon. Starburst and black holes, neighbors of the universe, all God’s creation. PRAYER God of all creation, expand our hearts and minds to embrace the universe of our neighbors until we can say, with John Donne: No one is alien to me. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Dr. Pat Saxon
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