Monday • 5/25/2026 •

We’re taking a detour from the Daily Office readings for a few days. Instead, we’ll be thinking through various facets of worship and how our Lord provides meaningful communion with him through our formal corporate worship as well as in individual worship in our daily devotions. The thoughts offered here are excerpts from articles I wrote for Worship Leader magazine a few years ago.   

From Centerfield: Athanasius, the Psalms, and Making the Right Play 

I once attended a college baseball game in which the crowd cheered a spectacularly dumb throw from deep centerfield to home plate. The throw itself was quite a feat (though it had no chance of catching the runner). But it was dumb, because it gave the game away by allowing what would become the tying run to get to second base. What could have saved the game would have been a less impressive throw to second base, keeping that runner at first. 

Four Ecumenical Councils took place between A.D. 325 and 451. They exemplified game-saving wisdom, of the sort the college centerfielder should have shown. 

Those Councils made four statements in response to spectacularly dumb things that were being said about Christ. The Councils’ statements can be crisply put, and their implications are profound: first, Christ is fully divine, since only God can save. Second, Christ is fully human, since “only that which is assumed can be healed.” Third, Christ is one integral person, since a bi-polar Savior could not restore us to inner wholeness. Fourth, Christ’s divine nature does not eclipse his human nature, since he came to glorify our humanity and not diminish it. 

A small often overlooked letter on the psalms by Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria and one of the inspirers of the Councils’ statements, sheds light on the origins of such spiritual and theological insight. 

A friend named Marcellinus wrote to Athanasius looking for guidance on how to get to know the psalms better. In his response, Epistle to Marcellinus, Athanasius sounds the very themes the Councils will later apply to Christ. 

Divinity 

In the Incarnation, God has funneled his fullness to us through one Man; in the Psalter, God has concentrated for us the whole Bible in miniature. Each of the other books, says Athanasius, “is like a garden which grows one special kind of fruit; by contrast, the Psalter is a garden which, besides its special fruit, grows also some of those of all the rest.” In Genesis, for example, we read about the creation; in Psalms 19 & 24 we celebrate creation in song. Exodus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy recount the exodus from Egypt; in Psalms 87, 105, 106, and 114 we “fitly sing it.” Impressively, Athanasius shows how virtually every theme of the Bible shows up somewhere in the Psalter. Through the psalms, God’s great cosmic story becomes our personal story as well. 

Humanity 

The psalms aren’t just a way into God’s story; they provide a mirror for our soul. In them, “you learn about yourself.” They describe us better than we can describe ourselves. Moreover, while other portions of Scripture tell us what to do, the Psalter shows us how. Elsewhere, for instance, Scripture tells us to repent, but the psalms “show you how to set about repenting and with what words your repentance may be expressed.” Elsewhere, Scripture tells us to bear up under persecution, but the psalms describe “how afflictions should be borne, and what the afflicted ought to say, both at the time and when his troubles cease.” 

Integrity 

Most of us can identify with the horrible split the apostle Paul experienced between his inner self and his outer self: “I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. … Wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:19,24). Paul’s answer, of course, is Christ. The Councils affirmed, therefore, that Christ himself was unified, rather than split, in his Person. Otherwise, there’d be no hope for the splits within us. In the same vein, Athanasius encourages – no, urges – us not merely to read the psalms, but to sing them. When we sing, our inner being and our outer being work together: our “usual disharmony of mind and corresponding bodily confusion is resolved.” The result is that when we sing psalms, Christ heals our inner brokenness. 

Dignity 

Do you get the sense that some believers think that when Christ comes into their lives he replaces their souls? Do you know spiritual zombies you can’t even have a conversation with because all you get is Bible verses or spiritual clichés? 

Athanasius must have known people like that too. One of the most impressive things he does in his epistle is comment on almost every psalm, and invite Marcellinus to look – really look – at whatever life-situation he might find himself in and ask how that psalm could fortify him: “Has some Goliath risen up against the people and yourself? Fear not, but trust in God, as David did, and sing his words in Psalm 144.” 

The message: God wishes to meet you in your life, not give you some sort of escape button to get you out of your life. The psalms – like Christ himself – are here to enhance, not diminish, what it is to be fully human. 

Through practice and scrimmage and games and, well, simply breathing baseball, a centerfielder should know where to throw, without even having to think about it. Through worship and prayer and study and, well, simple immersion in the faith of the psalms, may we absorb their “game-saving wisdom.” 

Be blessed this day,  

Reggie Kidd+  

Friday • 5/22/2026 •

Friday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 102; Jeremiah 31:27-34; Ephesians 5:1-20; Matthew 9:9-17

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 10 (“The Second Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 55:6–11; BCP, p. 86); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 18 (“A Song to the Lamb,” Revelation 4:11; 5:9–10, 13, BCP, p. 93)

“Follow me.”— Matthew 9:9. Jesus commands, and Matthew simply obeys. Why does Matthew follow him? Our passage provides but an indirect hint. Matthew is a tax collector. He is therefore reckoned among “the sinners” by “the righteous” (Matthew 9:11). He is among those who recognize they are sick, and in need of a physician (Matthew 9:12-13)—that they are worn out by life, and need to be made new (Matthew 9:14-17). 

What makes me follow Jesus? I see some of myself in Matthew. In addition, our readings today give me ample reason to follow. 

Because he is God. — Hebrews 1:10-12 is a direct quote of Psalm 102:25-27 (from today’s psalm): “But you are the same, and your years will never end.” In Psalm 102, these verses anchor the psalmist’s hope “in the day of my trouble” (see verse 1). His troubles come from enemies (v. 8), from his recognition of God’s indignation at his sin (v. 10), from his feeling of homelessness (v. 17), and from a creeping fear of death (vv. 11, 24). With verses 25-27, the psalmist places his destiny in the hands of the Lord who is eternal. 

The fascinating thing is that in Hebrews these verses conclude the writer’s argument that Jesus is God. Psalm 102 affirms the eternality and the deity of Jesus Christ, says the writer to the Hebrews. And whether Matthew the tax collector realized it in that moment when Jesus told him “Follow me,” or whether it dawned on him over time, he came to see it as well. Matthew’s Gospel is the one that tells us that Jesus’s name means Emmanuel, “God with us.” 

So, with Matthew, I follow Jesus because he is God. 

Because he makes sin go away.  Jeremiah speaks of a new covenant that’s not like the old covenant. The old covenant, announced on Mt. Sinai and engraved on tablets of stone, did more to convict people of their sin than it did to mold them into the kingdom of priests they were called to be. The old covenant relied on sacrifice after sacrifice to provide covering for sin after sin. Jeremiah looks to a new covenant that brings the law’s work into the human heart where it can produce transformation, not just demand it. The premise of that new covenant is one single sacrifice that finally cleanses consciences once and for all. That sacrifice, in addition, gives God a sort of holy amnesia: “I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more” (Jeremiah 31:34; Hebrews 8:12). 

Image: Pixabay

Did Matthew catch a glimpse of that hope when Jesus told him “Follow me”? Who knows? But by the time he wrote his Gospel he definitely did! Of the three Gospel accounts of the institution of the Last Supper, it is Matthew’s alone that echoes the amazing scene in Exodus 24, when the elders saw Moses take blood from the sacrificed oxen, dash it on the people, and say, “See, the blood of the covenant which the Lord has made with you…” (Exodus 24:8). Matthew alone recalls Jesus speaking of the sacrifice he was about to make as “my blood of the covenant” (Matthew 26:28). As the writer to the Hebrews makes clear: the one last sacrifice to end all sacrifice, by clearing all sin and covering all transgression once and for all: “For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are sanctified” (Hebrews 10:14, and context).

So, with Matthew, I follow Jesus because he has dealt with sin—and my sin—for good. 

Because he breathes life into the deadness of my being. “But be filled with the Spirit,” says the apostle Paul in Ephesians 5:18. Sin taken care of, transformation can take place. Transformation occurs when the Spirit who raised him from the dead and who now resides in us breathes fresh life into us. The breath of the Spirit draws us out of the walking sleep-death of “fornication, impurity, greed (which is idolatry),” and into the robustness of wise living, thanksgiving, praise, and above all, love. How ironic that this new life is the opposite of pursuits that people undertake in the name of freedom, fulfillment, and fun. The Bible characterizes those pursuits as representing a coma of sorts: an internal deadness, a lack of awareness of being truly and vibrantly alive, of being incapable of understanding the authentic nature of love. 

Christ lives in us now! He’s writing God’s law on our hearts by the Spirit! He ushers us from the darkness of spiritual stupor and into the light of full awakening! “‘Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you’” (Ephesians 5:14). Perhaps Matthew did, or perhaps he didn’t, immediately sense the newness of life offered in Jesus’s “Follow me.” But at some point, he did come to understand (because he wrote about it) that Jesus was refashioning him into a new wineskin so that he could be a vessel of the new wine of new life (Matthew 9:17). 

So, I follow Jesus because, with Matthew, I choose newness over senescence. I choose life over death. I choose being awake over being in perpetual torpor. I choose the breath of the Spirit over the sour aftertaste of mere amusement. 

May you, this day, follow Jesus—and in following him, may you know his divine protection, may you revel in the forgiveness he has won for you, and may you breathe in the fresh wind of his Spirit. 

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

Thursday • 5/21/2026 •

Thursday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 105:1-22; Zechariah 4:1-14; Ephesians 4:17-32; Matthew 9:1-8

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 8 (“The Song of Moss,” Exodus 15, BCP, p. 85); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)

A Priest and a King: A feature of the book of Zechariah is the expectation that after the exile, Israel will be rebuilt and ruled by a priest and a king. Zechariah looks forward to a messianic age where the high priest Joshua, son of Jehozadak, and the future king Zerubbabel (“a man whose name is Branch”) will rule together in peace. One can’t help but think of the book of Hebrews, where Jesus is described as prophet, priest, and king.  (If you’d like to read further in Zechariah, chapters 8 and 9 describe the reign of the victorious yet humble Messiah who rides into Jerusalem on a donkey—see especially Zechariah 9:9)

Zechariah prophesies that the Temple will be rebuilt, and Jerusalem will be refortified. As mentioned in yesterday’s devotional, Zechariah and other prophets of the time understand that the glory of the second temple, however, will not match that of the first temple that Solomon built. But Zechariah says that these “small beginnings” (Zechariah 4:10 NET) are not to be despised. 

Israel’s stature among the nations—even at the height of Solomon’s reign with its massive building projects and extensive alliances—never depended on military prowess or political sagacity. The reality was always, as Zechariah puts it here: “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of hosts” (Zechariah 4:6). 

That’s a word to remember in good times, and in bad. When things flourish, it’s by God’s Spirit. And when things appear to be in decline, his Spirit is still at work—for those who have eyes to see.

Image: Pixabay

A different kind of people. The apostle Paul had to contend with “small beginnings,” as well. Christian believers in Ephesus represented a tiny percent of the population of one of the Roman Empire’s larger and more robust cities. Ephesus was marked, according to Paul, by hardness of heart toward the things of God. He describes the city’s chief values as immorality, greed, deceit, anger, thievery. He calls upon Christ’s followers to be a colony, instead, of those who have “put away your former way of life, your old self, corrupt and deluded by its lusts, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Ephesians 4:22-23). They are to live in such a way as to delight God, not grieve him; and to model a kindness and readiness to forgive exactly like the kindness and forgiveness that have been extended to them in Christ. 

We have our own world of bad actors, rudderless fellow citizens, childish leaders, megalomaniacal despots, and brutal authorities. 

We can be a different kind of people—especially now, in a world of new adjustments and changes, through our own personal small beginnings: small obediences, small courtesies, and small kindnesses. 

A Healer has come. Matthew’s account of the healing of the paralytic reminds us of three simple things: 1) at the bottom of all things that afflict us—from physical maladies to social breakdown—is the reality of sin and the curse on the creation God loves; 2) the one who has authority and power to forgive and heal is Jesus, who is both Son of God and Son of Man; and 3) we are here to help each other find the Healer: “some people were carrying a paralysed man lying on a bed. When Jesus saw their faith, he said to the paralytic, ‘Take heart, son…’” (Matthew 9:2). 

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

Wednesday • 5/20/2026 •

Wednesday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 101; Psalm 109; Isaiah 4:2-6; Ephesians 4:1-16; Matthew 8:28-34

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 11 (“The Third Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 60:1–3,11a,14c,18–19, BCP, p. 87);  following the Epistle reading, Canticle 16 (“The Song of Zechariah,” Luke 1:68–79, BCP, p. 92)

Desolation straight ahead! Isaiah foresees desolation for Jerusalem at the hand of an invading army. He foretells exile to an alien land for the city’s residents. But for the people of Yahweh, destruction is never the last word. In today’s Daily Office, Isaiah looks into the future in both Isaiah 4 (the reading) and Isaiah 60 (the canticle). 

In Isaiah 4, Isaiah looks beyond desolation and exile, to prophesy the rising of a beautiful and glorious “branch”—that is, a Messiah from the line of Jesse. Isaiah sees proud survivors finding the land fruitful once again. In this same chapter, Isaiah sees fire cleansing the metaphorical filth of Jerusalem’s streets, followed by a protective cloud hovering over the city’s Mt. Zion. Like the cloud that accompanied Israel in the exodus, this cloud gives shade from heat and refuge and shelter from storm and rain.

In Isaiah 60, the prophet calls upon his hearers to “arise” from the brokenness of their desolation, as the “glory of Yahweh” shines upon them and upon their city once again. On that day, the Branch of Yahweh will appear. Violence, ruin, and destruction will be no more. “Nations will stream to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawning.” Here is a preview of God’s plan for humankind: here is hope, not merely for Israel, but for the world.

Image: Pixabay

These prophecies received partial fulfillment when, at the behest of Persia, Israel enjoyed a return to the land following the Assyrian exile and Babylonian captivity. Ezra and Nehemiah undertook to rebuild the city’s defensive wall and the temple, although not at the scale of the original city. But, say the prophets of their day, this is reason enough to celebrate God’s kind favor and faithfulness: “For who dares make light of small beginnings?” (Zechariah 4:10 NET). The lesser rebuilding is itself a gift, a promise of something greater, and of God’s continued care for his people.

Centuries later, the “Branch”—Jesus Christ, Son of God and son of Jesse—appears. “And he said to [the demons], ‘Go!’” — Matthew 8:32. As the reading in Matthew demonstrates, he comes with power over all demonic forces as well as over nature, subject to corruption as it is. (Romans 8:18-23). God loves people. He loves each of us so much that he sent his only and eternal Son to become one of us, and to reconcile us—to restore us—to himself. Although damaged by the fall in Adam’s sin, creation—and we ourselves—await restoration and a greater “rebuilding.” With arms outstretched on a cross, Jesus offers himself as the means of that purgation of sin to which Isaiah alludes here in Isaiah 4:4 (a concept which he develops at length in his Song of the Suffering Servant: “the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all”—esp. Isaiah 53:6). Jesus offers himself not just to provide a perfect atonement for sin, but also therefore to secure a future hope of glory for those who trust him. 

Following the cross come the resurrection and ascension of Jesus. Then on the first Pentecost, as if in direct fulfillment of Isaiah’s visions, God’s glory cloud descends upon Mt. Zion, distributing tongues of fire—empowering the proclamation of a gospel that brings refining repentance and vivifying faith to wayward hearts. 

Paul’s letter to the Ephesians demonstrates the power of that gospel, as he urges Christ’s followers to “lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called … Bear with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.” —Ephesians 4:1-2. Paul is confident that Christ’s grace is strong enough to empower his church to “build itself up in love” (Ephesians 4:16). As that happens, the church becomes the visible manifestation of Pentecost power on the earth. God rebuilds, not a physical city with defensive walls, but an outward-facing, spiritual city, taking the good news of His love to the nations. 

Ours is a time for hope once more. Hope in the face of invading armies. Hope in the face of a poisoned political atmosphere. Hope in the face of revelations about human trafficking. Hope in the face of gun violence and intractable racial, ethnic, and economic cleavages. Hope in the face of opioid addiction. Hope in the face of personal failings and disappointments. The prophet Isaiah speaks hope even now, perhaps especially now.  We can know that God will not abandon us … ever. He loves you, and me, and he will not abandon us. 

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

Tuesday • 5/19/2026 •

Tuesday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 97; Psalm 99; 1 Samuel 16:1-13; Ephesians 3:14-21; Matthew 8:18-27

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 13 (“A Song of Praise,” BCP, p. 90);following the Epistle reading, Canticle 18 (“A Song to the Lamb,” Revelation 4:11; 5:9–10, 13, BCP, p. 93)

This week’s readings in the Daily Office, particularly the Old Testament and the Epistle readings, highlight an amazing truth: Ascension and Pentecost together mean the re-centering of Christ’s ministry in two places at once: simultaneously at the Father’s right hand in body, and inside us and among us by the Holy Spirit. 

… but the Lord looks on the heart. — 1 Samuel 16:8. In today’s passage, it doesn’t matter that David’s family thinks him unworthy to be included in the gathering for Samuel’s visit. David, the boy shepherd, is fit to be the Lord’s king because, “the Lord looks on the heart,” What God sees is an earnest and courageous devotion to him. With the Lord’s anointing comes the power of the Holy Spirit: “Then Samuel took the horn of oil, and anointed him in the presence of his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon David from that day forward.” The power of the Spirit quickly becomes manifest as David defends God’s honor against the giant Goliath and the Philistine pagan deities.  

Image: Adaptation, "Leadership: strong but sensitive" by sniggie is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.

While it is David’s heart that qualifies him to be king, it is the Spirit he receives from on high that empowers him to be king. This passage points forward to Jesus, who receives his own kingly (and priestly) anointing by the Holy Spirit, in the form of a descending dove. Following that anointing, Jesus undertakes a solitary journey into the wilderness. Here he begins the subjugation of Satan by resisting his temptations. Then Jesus begins his ministry of teaching the Kingdom and displaying his power by calming storms (as in today’s gospel reading), healing the sick, forgiving sins, restoring sight to the blind, and raising the dead. Praise to God for taking pleasure in the heart of his own Son, and for empowering him as he sets out to crush and destroy sin, death, and the devil for us. 

… I pray that … you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit … — Ephesians 3:16. Paul prays that Christ may dwell in our hearts by the Spirit, and there give us an overwhelming sense of his love for us—and thus we may “be filled with all the fullness of God” (Ephesians 3:19). What Paul prays for us here is almost audacious: that our hearts would be made like David’s, and that we might have the same inner assurance that Jesus did of being deeply and profoundly loved by our Heavenly Father. And that, therefore, we might abide in our own portion of the power of the same Holy Spirit as David and Jesus. 

I hope today’s passages in 1 Samuel, Matthew, and Ephesians will help you reflect on and marvel at Christ’s loving presence, by his Spirit, in the very core of your being. And that you might live—and grow—and thrive as the Holy Spirit empowers you for his good purposes today.

Be blessed this day, 

Reggie Kidd+

Monday • 5/18/2026 •

Monday of the 7th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 89:1-18; Joshua 1:1-9; Ephesians 3:1-13; Matthew 8:5-17

This morning’s Canticles are: before the Psalm reading, Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 9 (“The First Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 12:2–6, BCP, p. 86); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)

Today’s lesson: It’s not just that I read, but how I read. 

Read slowly. “… you shall meditate on it day and night…” — Joshua 1:8. Joshua is given formidable tasks and stupendous promises. And he’s given one principal resource: “all the law that my servant Moses commanded you … this book of the law.” The key to success in the tasks at hand lies in not deviating from what’s in that book. For all the verbal instructions that Yahweh will provide, he has revealed his heart and his mind, and has laid out the shape of relationship with him, in the written word. And that word must be internalized, taken in slowly, and “chewed on” (the literal meaning of the Hebrew word translated “meditate on”).  

So, the notion of the word “not depart[ing] out of your mouth” is graphic. Of course, in the abstract, it means “think about it” all the time. But the concrete image is quite vivid: “chew on it,” the way a cow chews its cud, or a dog worries its bone. That sort of reading presupposes reading slowly and reflectively. It calls for committing thoughts and phrases to memory, and for rolling them over on the tongue. It means constantly pondering their significance. It does not mean breezing through passages to put a check mark on a to-do list. That’s easy to do in an exercise like the Daily Office. Which is why I often have to make myself slow down, reread, and ask the Lord what I’m supposed to be getting today, as I look for key phrases to jump out and grab me.

Image: Adaptation, "Roman centurion at the Coliseum, Rome" by Andrew & Suzanne is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.

It means committing some passages to memory. Good candidates from today’s reading in Joshua are: 

“This book of the law shall not depart out of your mouth; you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to act in accordance with all that is written in it. For then you shall make your way prosperous, and then you shall be successful.” (Joshua 1:8)

and:

“I hereby command you: Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

Read, looking for the mystery. “…a reading of which will enable you to perceive my understanding of the mystery of Christ…” — Ephesians 3:4. Besides reading slowly, today’s passages commend a certain purpose in reading: looking for what God would reveal to you and to me about his Son, and about the way he is making all things new through his Son. 

For Paul, there is a twofold “mystery” hidden throughout the Old Testament, now being revealed for the world. That mystery is Christ and his Church. For example, in the first place, “Joshua” (translated “Jesus” in the Greek Old Testament) pictures ahead of time the One who will bear the same name when he comes to earth to conquer sin and death—as Paul describes the “mystery” in Colossians: “Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27). In the second place, as the nation of Israel enters the Promised Land to become a colony of God’s rule, she depicts in advance Jesus’s Church growing into a house for God’s dwelling (Ephesians 2:22): “the mystery of Christ…that is, the Gentiles have become fellow-heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel” (Ephesians 3:4b, 6). 

A Christ-filled interpretive imagination can get carried away with itself, of course (early theologians could find Christ’s blood in Rahab’s red rope). But our imaginations can also become dull to the fact that “the ends of the ages” have fallen upon us (1 Corinthians 10:11). We can too easily forget that, at its heart, the whole of the Bible points to Christ. I should read, asking Christ to show himself and what he’s doing to bring people into fellowship with him and with one another. And then for him to show me where I fit in those purposes—even in what lies ahead today. 

Read as under authority. Centurion: “For I also am a man under authority” … Jesus: “Truly I tell you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith.” — Matthew 8:9a, 10b. Finally, I need to read, expecting marching orders! This centurion was accustomed to responding to superiors who communicated to him through messengers. He knew that Jesus, like the centurion’s own superiors, spoke with such authority that Jesus wouldn’t physically need to be some place for his commands to be enforced. 

The faithful centurion knew that dutiful messengers don’t speak for themselves. We know that faithful Scripture writers don’t either. When I read them, I need to listen for the voice of their Master and mine. As Peter puts it: “It was not on any human initiative that prophecy came: rather, it was under the compulsion of the Holy Spirit that people spoke as messengers of God” (2 Peter 1:21 REB). 

From the Catechism in the Book of Common Prayer.

Q. Why do we call the Holy Scriptures the Word of God?

A. We call them the Word of God because God inspired their human authors and because God still speaks to us through the Bible.

Be blessed this day,

Reggie Kidd+

Friday • 5/15/2026 •

Friday of the 6th Week of Easter

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalms 85 & 86; 1 Samuel 2:1-10; Ephesians 2:1-10; Matthew 7:22-27

This morning’s Canticles are: Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 10 (“The Second Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 55:6–11; BCP, p. 86); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 18 (“A Song to the Lamb,” Revelation 4:11; 5:9-10, 13, BCP, p. 93)

I love it every seven weeks when Psalm 85 rolls back around in the Daily Office. Every time, a single verse from this psalm brings everything else going on around me to a halt. I have to pause to take it in once again:

Mercy and truth have met together; *
righteousness and peace have kissed each other (Psalm 85:10).

Image: Adaptation, Pixabay

Think about the wonder of what’s being said here. Deep within the wonder of God’s very being, seeming opposites coalesce. The unbreakable truth of God’s Law meets the tenderness of God’s mercy. The unbending rectitude of his righteous justice kisses the loving peaceability of his heart. He must judge rightly, and he loves endlessly. The Bible, then, as a whole turns out to be a telling of the epic of this dynamic—this “meeting” and this “kissing”—as it is played out on the world stage, culminating at the cross of Calvary. There truth and mercy meet. There righteousness and peace kiss. There, as the apostle Paul puts it, God shows himself to be “just and justifier” (Romans 3:26).

This verse from Psalm 85 reminds me of the 18th century Welsh hymn, “Here is love,” which includes this verse:

On the mount of crucifixion fountains opened deep and wide;
through the floodgates of God’s mercy flowed a vast and gracious tide.
Grace and love, like mighty rivers, poured incessant from above,
and heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love.

What an arresting line, that last one: “Heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love.”

“Here Is Love,” at “The Event Without Walls,” Exeter Showground, 1995

“Here Is Love,” sung by Matt Redman

Ephesians 2 finds the apostle Paul reveling, in the first place, in the way that the walking dead—unworthy sinners, all—have been, out of the richness of God’s mercy, made alive in Christ. Indeed, they have been raised up and seated in the heavenly places right alongside the ascended ruling Christ (Ephesians 2:1-10, today’s epistle reading). In the second place, Ephesians 2 shows Paul glorying over the way that formerly alienated people—Jew and Gentile—have been made one, since Christ has become their peace (Ephesians 2:11-21, tomorrow’s epistle reading). Truth and mercy. Righteousness and peace.

Accordingly, at the end of the Sermon on the Mount, in our gospel reading, Jesus urges (I paraphrase): “build your life on the solid rock of this truth, not on the sand of your own machinations and strivings. Don’t think you can approximate God’s righteousness on your own merit. Don’t think you can presume to find mercy apart from ‘my blood of the covenant’ (Matthew 26:28). Take the whole package deal. Take me,” he says, “because in me, mercy and truth meet. Take me, because in me, righteousness and peace kiss. Take me, because in me, heaven’s peace and perfect justice kissed a guilty world in love.”

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+

Thursday • 5/14/2026 •

Thursday of the 6th Week of Easter

Today is the Feast of the Ascension of Christ

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalms 8 & 47; Daniel 7:9-14; Hebrews 2:5-18; Matthew 28:16-20

This morning’s Canticles are: Pascha Nostrum (“Christ Our Passover,” BCP, p. 83); following the OT reading, Canticle 8 (“The Song of Moses,” Exodus 15, BCP, p. 85); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3-4, BCP, p. 94)

You give him mastery over the works of your hands; you put all things under his feet. — Psalm 8:7. The majesty of the heavens makes David, in Psalm 8, ponder the wonder of the Lord’s having put us humans at the pinnacle of creation. David is in awe of the status that we have been given—crowned with glory and honor, overseers of a dominion where everything is life, no death; cooperative effort, minus coercion or corruption; productivity without waste. 

I love the way the artist Ari Gradus (www.ari-gradus.com) imagines our relationship with the creation in his painting Spirit - Creation. The form of Adam emerges from the ground. His posture is one of wondrous praise. It’s as though all earth’s plenitude streams out from him, or at least revolves around him—as though the glory of image-bearing flows out with its own creative, life-giving energy. Even though that’s an inversion of the order of the Genesis account, it captures the biblical logic of humans being the fulcrum and crown of creation.

And yet…

As it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them… — Hebrews 2:8b. Perhaps one of the greatest understatements of all time. The writer to the Hebrews takes up Psalm 8’s celebration of the dignified place of humans in the scheme of things. But he notes that what we see—what we experience—is not what Psalm 8 envisions. As it is, we don’t see humans large-and-in-charge. As it is, we don’t see humans proudly reflecting the glory. As it is, we don’t see ourselves here and now as lords and ladies of God’s creatures.

In a second painting, titled Paradise Lost, Ari Gradus captures this “As it is…” insight. No, since the Garden, “we do not see everything in subjection to him.” Instead, the bitter fruit of the bite from the forbidden fruit leaves us cringing and fleeing for shelter. Creation devolves into a serpentine swirl of threatening globs, all of them indistinct, except for the ones in the shape of the forbidden fruit. Adam and Eve have dropped the fruit with the missing bite to the ground, where it lies at the front of the painting. Several forbidden fruit seem to chase the unhappy couple down, threatening to rain down upon them.

“As it is,” indeed. We are supposed to be the crown of creation. But starting early in 2020, we found ourselves plagued by an ironically named coronavirus, “corona” being the Latin word from which we get “crown.” Originally, “corona” meant a “wreath” of honor or “garland” of majesty. The microscopic coronavirus is covered with super-microscopic crowns. When the coronavirus invisibly invades our being, it connects itself to our lungs with those grabby crowns, so it can claim us and kill us. It’s brought our economy to its knees. It’s made us mask ourselves from one another and has caused us to be fearful of getting within six feet of each other. Even the confinement it has forced on us has led to things like increased domestic violence and substance abuse. The helplessness we feel, the sense of attack we experience—they are a parable of what it is to live with “Paradise Lost.”

…but we do see Jesus… — Hebrews 2:9a. Then again, this is Ascension Day. And the writer to the Hebrews doesn’t quote Psalm 8 to push us further into despair. He wants us to look up and see that at the right hand of the Father sits Jesus. There in advance of us is our Champion—once “made lower than the angels” and “suffering…death and tasting death for everyone,” now “crowned with glory and honor [also] for us” (Hebrews 2:9). He is there because paradise has been regained.

There, according to the writer to the Hebrews, quoting Psalm 22:22, he proclaims the Father’s name to us, a name of holy blessing (Hebrews 2:12; and see Numbers 6:23-27). And there, according to the same psalm, he sings a hymn of praise to the Father (Hebrews 2:12). He proclaims the truth that our sins have been atoned for, “our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water” (Hebrews 10:22). He sings us out of shame and into his fellowship as his brothers and sisters (Hebrews 2:11). He announces—and loudly, I submit!—that he has “destroy[ed] the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free[d] those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (v. 15). As “merciful and faithful high priest,” he tunes our voices for the singing of praise to the Father who has provided complete atonement and timely help (2:18; see also 4:16).

Collect of the Day: Ascension Day. Almighty God, whose blessed Son our Savior Jesus Christ ascended far above all heavens that he might fill all things: Mercifully give us faith to perceive that, according to his promise, he abides with his Church on earth, even to the end of the ages; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.

Be blessed this day.

Reggie Kidd+