When My Baby’s Beside Me – Lyrics

Don’t need to talk to my doctor
Don’t need to talk to my shrink
Don’t need to hide behind no locked door
I don’t need to think

‘Cause when my baby’s beside me, I don’t worry
When my baby’s beside me all I know
When my baby’s beside me, I don’t worry
When my baby’s beside me all I know

Read all my books and talked about
Listen to my radio
Been in school and dropped right out
Tryin’ to find what I didn’t know

But when my baby’s beside me, I don’t worry
When my baby’s beside me all I know
When my baby’s beside me, I don’t worry
When my baby’s beside me all I know

Don’t need to talk to my doctor
Don’t need to talk to my shrink
Don’t need to hide behind no locked doors
I don’t need to think

‘Cause when my baby’s beside me, I don’t worry
When my baby’s beside me all I know
When my baby’s beside me, I don’t worry
When my baby’s beside me all I know

When my baby’s beside me, I don’t worry
When my baby’s beside me all I know
When my baby’s beside me, I don’t worry
When my baby’s beside me all I know

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Alex Chilton / Christopher Bell

When My Baby’s Beside Me lyrics © Birdees Music Corp., Koala Music (us), Koala Music, Inc.

Friday, May 8, 2026

Set me as a seal upon your heart, a seal upon your arm,
For love is as strong as death, passion fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame.
—Song of Songs 8:6

Mirabai Starr describes how the language of romance and erotic love is the universal experience of mystics across religious traditions:

Every spiritual tradition on the planet seems to have some version of the Song of Songs. The language of romantic love describes and evokes the soul’s relationship with the divine more accurately than any descriptive theological language ever could. I guess that’s why the Song of Songs, which is quite revolutionary and hard to explain, made it into the canonical texts….

All of the love language with which the mystics speak is arising from that same wellspring from which the Song of Songs unfolded. There is this place in the heart that is the truth of spiritual communion, of spiritual longing. The longing becomes the portal to union and communion, and that union becomes the reference point for the longing. Any time any of the mystics touch upon the themes of yearning, anguish, separation, and the sweetness of taking refuge in the arms of the beloved, they’re singing this essential song, this Canticle of Canticles, whether or not they actually are familiar with this particular text…. The Song of Songs is an essential blueprint that’s instilled in all our souls, the fuel that propels us on a spiritual path, even if some of us never get around to it. I think it’s in all of us. [1]

In the Song of Songs, the lover sings of her search for her beloved: 

At night on my bed I longed only for my love.
I sought him, but did not find him.
I must rise and go about the city,
the narrow streets and squares until I find my only love.
I sought him everywhere but I could not find him. (Song of Songs 3:1–2)

Starr describes longing as an essential aspect of nuptial mysticism:

Something in our souls recognizes this dynamic of exile and return. We remember that our source is Love. We suffer from the illusion of having been pulled up from our soul roots. We long to go home. We engage every practice we can get our hands on to restore our birthright of belonging. And when we attain those fleeting moments of union, we realize we were never two to begin with. We were always one and always will be one.

The language of love is like a spaceship that blasts us through the layers of illusion and delivers us to the truth of our essential connectedness with the Divine and our interconnectedness with all of creation. There’s nothing like a passage of mystical poetry, incandescent with the fire of longing and besotted by the wine of union, to evoke our own burning yearning and reveal our capacity for melding. [2]

References:
[1] Mirabai Starr with James Finley and Michael Petrow, “The Song of Love Lost and Found,” The Living School: Essentials of Engaged Contemplation, Center for Action and Contemplation, 2025.

[2] Mirabai Starr, Wild Mercy: Living the Fierce and Tender Wisdom of the Women Mystics (Sounds True, 2019), 57.

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Sarah Young – Jesus Calling

It’s all right to be human. When your mind wanders while you are praying, don’t be surprised or upset. Simply return your attention to Me. Share a secret smile with Me, knowing that I understand. Rejoice in My Love for you, which has no limits or conditions. Whisper My Name in loving contentment, assured that I will never leave you or forsake you. Intersperse these peaceful interludes abundantly throughout your day. This practice will enable you to attain a quiet and gentle spirit, which is pleasing to Me.

     As you live in close contact with Me, the Light of My Presence filters through you to bless others. Your weakness and woundedness are the openings through which the Light of the knowledge of My Glory shines forth. My strength and power show themselves most effective in your weakness. 

RELATED SCRIPTURE:

Deuteronomy 31:6 NLT

6 So be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid and do not panic before them. For the Lord your God will personally go ahead of you. He will neither fail you nor abandon you.”

1st Peter 3:4 NLT

4 You should clothe yourselves instead with the beauty that comes from within, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is so precious to God.

2nd Corinthians 4:6-7 NLT

6 For God, who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ.

7 We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.

2nd Corinthians 12:9 NLT

9 Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.

Additional insight regarding 2nd Corinthians 12:9: Although God did not remove Paul’s affliction, he promised to demonstrate his power in Paul. The fact that God’s power is displayed in our weaknesses should give us courage and hope. As we recognize our limitations, we will depend more on God for our effectiveness rather than on our own energy, effort, or talent. Our limitations not only help develop Christian character but also deepen our worship, because in admitting them, we affirm God’s strength.

Five on Friday – John Chaffee

1.

“Everything that rises must converge.”

– Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, 20th-century French Jesuit

In the summer of 2016, I binge-read the works of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.  I did not read everything, but I did knock out 7-8 of his books and another 2-3 about him.

His integrated theology, which seems to me like a modernized, evolutionary form of Ignatian Spirituality, gave me a complete and utter paradigm shift.  Prior to reading him, I would say my spirituality was more “static” (meaning, figure out God’s divine plan and live stoically according to it).  After reading Teilhard de Chardin, my spirituality became much more “dynamic” (meaning, it was more focused on personal growth and growth in virtue).

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin taught me a spirituality of becoming.

Am I becoming greater or less?  Am I active or passive in the events of my life?  Do I see it as a form of love of neighbor to work on myself as much as possible, to heal my traumas, and invite others to do the same?  Is my life integrated, or am I working against myself?  Is the direction of my life in the direction of greater or less health and holiness?

If I live by these things, I will eventually come into contact with others who are also “aiming high.”  After all, “Everything that rises must converge.”  If you are reading this, it is possible that we are “converging.”  You were drawn to read this newsletter, and this quote, and my typing this is somehow our common spiritualities finding a friend for the journey.

2.

“For me to be a saint means to be myself. Therefore, the problem of sanctity and salvation is in fact the problem of finding out who I am and of discovering my true self.”

– Thomas Merton, 20th-century Trappist Monk

Merton’s teaching on the True Self and the False Self was a game-changer for me.  This quote comes from Chapter 5 of New Seeds of Contemplation, and the first time I read that chapter, I teared up.

(In fact, I love this teaching so much that I am incorporating it into the next online class I hope to offer this summer.)

The teaching of the True Self/False Self is not so much a question that you answer once in your life and be done with it.  Rather, it is more of a question to be holy haunted by for the rest of your life.

The True Self/False Self teaching requires me to ask myself certain questions…

• Am I being my True Self?
• Am I saying or doing things born out of my identity or from the expectations of others?
  Am I being a False Self that I believe others will like more?
• Why is it that I am my False Self when I am with this or that group of people?
  Who in my life allows me to be my True Self?
• Who in my life encourages me to find my True Self?
• Is there anyone in my life who does not want me to be something other than my False Self?
• Can I have meaningful relationships if I am only my False Self?
• Can I join God in God’s own understanding and love of my True Self?
• If Christ was his own True Self, can that inspire me to be my own True Selfless?

The list could go on!

I think this teaching resonates with me because sainthood, then, is less a matter of moral perfection, and more a matter of constantly discovering my True Self (which is loving, gracious, virtuous, joyful, etc.) and living from that center or ground.

3.

“Christianity is an entirely new way of being human.”

– Maximus the Confessor, 8th-century Syrian Monk

If Adam is the Old Man, and his progeny are the Old Humanity…

Then Christ, as the New Man, leads the way for a New Humanity.

I believe Maximus the Confessor made this comment after reading Ephesians 2, which talks about creating a New Humanity that operates by a completely different set of values.

The New Humanity has different values because it has different goals, and it has different goals because it has a different starting point.  For the New Humanity, the starting point (and ending point) is always Love.  And, since Love seeks to do no wrong to anyone, and instead to help carry one another’s burdens, Love is the fulfillment of the Law.

To me, Christ invites me to a completely other mode of existence.  I sincerely believe there is sophiological importance to the Gospel teaching.  There is more wisdom in the faith about how to live life than I believe most know.

To follow the teachings of Christ is inherently rebellious to a culture that is hedonistic (pleasure-seeking), sees people as a means to an end, focuses on what can be gained rather than who can be helped, and refuses to participate in anything that diminishes oneself or others.

Truly, it is a new way of being human.

4.

“The important thing is not to think much but to love much, and so to do whatever best awakens you to love.”

– Teresa of Avila, 16th-century Spanish Carmelite

I am a recovering Enneagram 5.

This means I live in my head, and fear often gets the best of me.

So, when I first read Teresa of Avila’s masterpiece, Interior Castle, I was gut-punched.

I am far too cerebral in how I live my life.  Too much of my focus is on my own interior life, on thinking big thoughts, and trying to assemble theories for why certain things are the way they are.

Add to this that I am a professor and occasionally have the opportunity to preach, and you have a recipe for someone to share what they know, yet perhaps not always grow in love.

It is good for me to shut off my darn brain, with its scarcity mindset and fear-mongering, and just try to love better.

5.

“All will be well, all will be well, in every manner of thing, all will be well.”

– Julian of Norwich, 14th-century English Mystic

Julian of Norwich was potentially dying from either the grief of her whole family being lost to the Bubonic Plague and/or dying from the Plague herself.

On her deathbed, the whole world was closing in around her until she essentially had just tunnel vision straight forward to where there was a crucifix hanging on the wall opposite her.

It was then that she had a mystical experience of the Christ, and the two of them had 16 different conversations.

Miraculously, and much to the surprise of those attending her final moments, Julian recovered.  It was not long before Julian put to writing the content of her conversations with the Christ.

Julian’s understanding of God is utterly kind, patient, paternal, and maternal, joyful, compassionate, and tender.    Much like Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Julian caused me to shift my paradigm for understanding and relating to God.

The God revealed in the person of Jesus is completely hopeful.  And at those deathbed conversations, God showed Julian that even with all the darkness and vice and sin in the world, “all will be well.”  God, who is infinitely creative and infinitely capable, is going to turn all things for Good.

Reflection

The first two readings suggest that intimacy with God is less about achieving and more about returning — again and again. What does that kind of practice look like in your daily life?

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A Prayer to Close

Lord, set me as a seal upon Your heart. In my longing, draw me near. In my weakness, shine through. Let me not be surprised by my wandering mind or my restless heart, but simply return — again and again — to You, the source of all love. Amen.

LOVER AND BELOVED IN THE SONG OF SONGS

I Am My Beloved’s

Thursday, May 7, 2026

I am my beloved’s, and his desire is for me.
—Song of Songs 7:10

James Finley celebrates Bernard of Clairvaux’s emphasis on love:

When I was at the monastery, they had a statue of Saint Bernard holding a scroll. In his commentary on the Song of Songs, he says, “Amo quia amo.” “I love because I love.” He writes, “Everything we do, we do for a reason, but only love is its own reason.” [1] Clearly this is the motivation of the lovers in the Song of Songs. Love is their only reason, their only reward. This is how I would put it: Ultimately, God is speaking just one thing. Only one thing is happening: The infinite love of God, in an ongoing self-donating act, is pouring itself out, emptying itself, and giving itself away in and as the intimate immediacy of the gift and the miracle of our very presence, the presence of others in all things, and our nothingness without this infinite love. Love is our origin, love is our ground, love is our sustaining reality, and love is our destiny. Love and love alone is the substance of reality. Everything else is smoke and mirrors, really. [2]

Bernard of Clairvaux recognized that there’s fraternal love, our love for our siblings. There’s the love of parents for their children, and the love of children for their parents. God also gives us love for our friends. But nuptial love is unique in that two people freely choose to give themselves to each other completely: to support each other, to be there for each other, and to be with each other. So, their sexual union is a physical, somatic celebration of the love in which they give and receive.

Arise my love, my fair one,
  and come away.
O my dove, in the clefts of rocks,
  in the covert of the cliff,
let me see your face;
  let me hear your voice,
for your voice is sweet
  and your face is lovely….
My beloved is mine, and I am his. (Song of Songs 2:13–14, 16)

You can see why Bernard saw nuptial love, portrayed in the Song of Songs, as the supreme love. It’s like when spouses love and give themselves to each other—the infinite love of God infinitely gives God’s self to us. Nuptial mysticism is like being married to God. God wants us to be married to God in this kiss, this ultimate, sovereign, and supreme love.

The philosopher Blaise Pascal wrote, “The heart has its reason which the mind knows not.” [3] Bernard of Clairvaux understood this long before Paschal wrote it. In working with the Song of Songs, he is dropping down into the heart realm, searching for words and metaphors that will resonate with us. When we hear these words, we’re touched by them because we can tell Bernard is trying to put into words what our own hearts know is true. The depth of who we are is God’s beloved. [4]

=============================================================================

Sarah Young – Jesus Calling

I AM with you always. These were the last words I spoke before ascending into heaven. I continue to proclaim this promise to all who will listen. People respond to My continual Presence in various ways. Most Christians accept this teaching as truth but ignore it in their daily living. Some ill-taught or wounded believers fear (and may even resent) My awareness of all they do and think. A few people center their lives around this glorious promise and find themselves blessed beyond all expectations. 

When My Presence is the focal point of your consciousness, all the pieces of your life fall into place. As you gaze at Me through the eyes of your heart, you can see the world around you from My perspective. The fact that I am with you makes every moment of your life meaningful.

RELATED SCRIPTURE: 

Matthew 28:20 NLT

20 Teach these new disciples to obey all the commands I have given you. And be sure of this: I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

Additional insight regarding Matthew 28:20: How is Jesus “with” us? Jesus was with the disciples physically until he ascended into Heaven and then spiritually through the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:4). The Holy Spirit would be Jesus’ presence that would never leave them (John 14:26 – “But when the Father sends the Advocate as my representative—that is, the Holy Spirit—he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you.”). Jesus continues to be with us today through his Spirit.

NLT Bible Versions

Psalm 139:1-4 NLT

Psalm 139

For the choir director: A psalm of David.

1 O Lord, you have examined my heart

    and know everything about me.

2 You know when I sit down or stand up.

    You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.

3 You see me when I travel

    and when I rest at home.

    You know everything I do.

4 You know what I am going to say

    even before I say it, Lord.

Additional insight regarding Psalm 139:1-5: Sometimes we don’t let people get to know us completely because we are afraid they will discover something about us they won’t like. But God already knows everything about us, even the number of hairs on our head (Matthew 10:30), and still he accepts and loves us. God is with us through every situation, in every trial – protecting, loving, guiding. He knows and loves us completely.

Reflection question: Do you tend to treat God’s presence as background knowledge or as the focal point of your daily consciousness? What’s one practical way you could shift toward the latter?

A Book of Devotion

Wednesday, May 6, 2025

READ ON CAC.ORG

The theologian Stephanie Paulsell considers how praying with the Song of Songs can help us discover “good news”: 

What would we find if we turned to this poem listening for God’s voice, as countless readers before us have done? What would we hear if, as Origen long ago urged, we made the words of the Song our own?

One thing we find when we pray with the Song is good news: good news about the glory of the human body, the joy of mutuality in love, the responsiveness of a world that is cherished and loved, and the longing to know and to be known. These are the Song’s own concerns, the Song’s own preoccupations. Bringing the Song into our prayer brings our bodies, our relationships, the earth, and our longings into our prayer as well. This is precisely where these concerns belong: at the intersection of our life and God’s life, at the place where we turn toward God with all we are. [1]

Paulsell encourages us to linger in our reading with the Song of Songs:

The Song offers us a way of reading that is also a way of receiving the world, a way that leads to prayer. By inviting us into the dialogue of the two lovers, we are encouraged to read as they love—lingering in the presence of the beloved, admiring the beloved’s beauty and grace, and adoring both what can be seen and known and spoken of, and what is beyond our sight, beyond our ability to know or describe. In a world marked by speed and overwhelmed by information, the Song offers us a space beneath the pine branches and cedar boughs to read slowly, admiringly, meditatively….

The Song does not rush us…. Rather, it invites us to read and reread and read again, listening for unexpected resonances, allowing multiple meanings to accumulate. It is a banqueting house, a garden, a vineyard, a field: a place to be explored in every season, a place that discloses something new each time we move through it….

Hidden like a jewel at the heart of the Bible, the Song of Songs waits for us to take it up again and so enter with other faithful people in a song that never ends. [2]

Paulsell invites us to encounter the Song of Songs as an opening to prayer and life:

Think and pray with the Song about the life of the body, our life with one another, our life in creation, and our life with God. It is just one life, after all.… One life that opens onto depths that are spiritual, erotic, compassionate, and, on some level, not entirely knowable. One life touched and blessed by the kiss that has been sung about over centuries in language unutterably beautiful.

================

Sermon for the 4th Sunday of Easter
Preached at Trinity Episcopal Church, Santa Barbara, on April 26, 2026
by The Rev. Sarah D. Thomas

“Awe came upon everyone” – these people were experiencing a spiritual high. They were becoming a new kind of community in those post-Easter days. They called themselves “the Way.” A Greek word used to describe their life together is koinonia, which means fellowship, communion, shared life. To our ears their new way might sound simple, quaint, or idealistic. But to Jesus’ early followers, it was electric. Risky. Brave. Awe had come upon them and they were reoriented to living differently. 

We have all just lived through something like this, something electric, brave, and risky.

During Holy Week this year, four humans left Earth, launched into space at 25,000 miles per hour to achieve a first for humanity: a mission around the back side of the moon. Some of you followed it closely. Some of you may have missed it in the flood of everything else. I’ll admit, I was captivated. I marveled that I was able to watch live video footage inside a space capsule floating 250,000 miles away from Earth.

The first thing that really hit me wasn’t the technology, but the conversations that took place between the astronauts in space and the scientists on the ground. The way they spoke to each other was respectful. Attuned. Intelligent. Kind. Even though I didn’t understand any of the scientific language they were using, I was riveted to the live feed because the way they were all speaking to each other was so different from what I’ve become accustomed to hearing in public discourse. Apparently, I have become accustomed to snark. Mistrust. Disrespect. Competition. But now I was hearing something different. There was humor. Competence. Supportive, clear communication. Real teamwork. The mere words “copy that” made me tear up a little. (They said it a lot.) “Copy that”: “I hear you. I believe you. I will address that.” The Artemis II mission didn’t just show us space, it showed us our better selves.

And then there was a moment I can’t forget: As the crew passed the farthest point from Earth any humans have traveled (a record set by Apollo 13 over 50 years ago), they paused to mark it – not with data or achievement, but with love. They wanted to name two craters on the moon. One they named “Integrity,” after the spirit of their mission. And the other they named “Carroll,” after the late wife of one of their crewmates, who had died a few years ago. “Copy that,” said mission control. At the moment they were the farthest yet from Earth, their first instinct was to care for one another. 

I pulled my car over and watched them. Their voices wavered and there were some tears. They formed an unplanned group hug and their legs drifted upward in zero gravity, forming a web of connection. This moment spread quickly on social media. Suddenly the whole world was paying attention. Because when humans act like this, it draws us in. Their survival depended on it. They needed each other. They shared everything: tight quarters, weird space food, exhaustion, wonder. Together, they looked back at Earth, just a small blue crescent as they drifted behind the moon. It did something to them. And by extension, it did something to us.

When they returned and spoke at a press conference one day after “splashdown,” their words were unpolished and emotional. Astronaut Christina Koch said this: “What struck me wasn’t necessarily just tiny Earth, it was all the blackness around it. Earth was just this life boat hanging undisturbingly in the universe.”

And then she said something that sounds remarkably like our reading from the Book of Acts.

She said, “A crew is a group of people that is in it all the time no matter what, that is stroking together every minute with the same purpose, that is willing to sacrifice silently for each other, that gives grace, that holds accountable. A crew has the same cares and the same needs, and a crew is inescapably, beautifully, dutifully linked. I know I haven’t learned everything that this journey has yet to teach me, but there is one new thing I know. And that is: Planet Earth, you are a crew.”

Listen again to Acts: “Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved.”

Awe came upon everyone. And it made them see life differently. Jesus’ followers experienced his risen presence in the days following that first Easter morning. It was shocking and surprising. And it changed them. It made them want to be together, to share all they had; to care for each other, to care for those in need. They had glad and generous hearts and had the goodwill of all the people. They became a crew. 

This is what it means to be saved – not saved for some kind of afterlife, but to experience something in this life that leaves us in awe; to have our hearts opened to realities we often don’t see; to be filled with gladness and generosity; to let that spill over into the world. This is what being saved means.

Those four astronauts experienced a kind of salvation, too. Awe came upon them. They were shaken into what is real: Earth is tiny, we need each other, and there is great love when we bear witness to that together.

On this Earth Day Sunday, could there be any better message for us to hear? We are here on this tiny lifeboat floating in space, together. One small fragile crew. And yet, we have a hard time living that way. Every day we see division, greed, violence, and systems that pull us apart.

But we’ve also seen something else: a mirror held up to us, reminding us of what is also true.

Bill McKibben, a famous environmentalist, spoke at UCSB a few days ago. While his talk was full of sobering and alarming science regarding climate change, his message was also hopeful. Solar and wind energy are accelerating at a very fast pace. He said that the past 36 months have made all the difference in ways many of us don’t really see. The earth is producing roughly a third more power from the sun this spring than it was last spring. China is at warp-speed-ahead on solar energy. We are almost too late, but if we can continue to speed this up, we have the ability to make a difference for the future. The problem is, the progress is being slowed by those invested in fossil fuels. 

A journalist summed up McKibben’s main point: “Time is short. The technology is here. The obstacle is power. Fortunately, sunlight is much harder to hoard – or to wage war over.”^[1] A student in the audience asked, “What can I do?” And McKibben replied, “We need to stop thinking of ourselves as individuals, as an ‘I,’ and join others. Join a movement.” 

In other words, become a crew!

Astronaut Jeremy Hansen, in his little speech right after splashdown, asked his fellow astronauts to stand up there next to him. They put their arms around each other as he said, “What you saw is a group of people who loved having meaningful contribution, and extracting joy out of that, and what we’ve been hearing is … that was something special for you to witness. If you look up here, you’re not looking at us. We are a mirror reflecting you. And if you like what you see, then just look a little deeper. This is you.”

The Artemis II mission became a mirror reflecting ourselves back to us in a way we needed to see. We saw teamwork, we saw sacrifice, we saw humble intelligence put to use for a greater good, we saw humans trembling with awe and wonder at the mystery of our universe, and we saw deep love. When I looked into that mirror, something in me shifted, and I haven’t been able to shake it for days.

We must take care as we look into the mirrors that are around us. There are plenty that distort, magnifying fear, division, and scarcity. But there are other mirrors that remind us who we are at our best, and mirrors that connect us to awe and the wonder of life itself.

When the church is at its best, it gets to be one of those mirrors – a people of koinonia: a community of joy and shared life, with glad and generous hearts, sharing presence and resources with those in need, and reminding the people of the world that it is a crew, held together in the love of Christ.

“Awe came upon everyone” and reoriented them to becoming a new kind of community.

Awe is a renewable resource! And one that we can easily harness if we cultivate it, if we become a crew. Our salvation depends on it. 

Copy that?

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Individual Reflection

Where is awe trying to reach you?

Group Discussion — choose one:

1. Where are you being invited to linger and behold rather than rush past?
2. When have you experienced shared life that reoriented you toward awe?
3. What would it mean for you to live as if “Planet Earth, you are a crew”?

Tuesday, May 5, 2025

READ ON CAC.ORG

James Finley reflects on the teachings of the twelfth-century mystic and monastic reformer Bernard of Clairvaux, one of the most prolific commentators on the Song of Songs: 

Saint Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153) was the abbot of the Cistercian monastery of Clairvaux. He was so enamored of the Song of Songs that he wrote eighty-six sermons about it over the last twenty years of his life. He went line by line. He thought of it as the supreme text of all Scripture because of its nuptial theme—the ultimate union of incarnate love. It’s personal for me because I lived in a Cistercian monastery with Thomas Merton, where I was steeped in this union and love mysticism.

The Cistercians were founded as a reform of the Benedictine monasteries. They felt the need to get back to the heart of Benedict’s Rule, which is also the heart of the gospel. In the opening sentences of the Rule of Saint Benedict, he said, “Listen, my child, to the words of the master, and if today you hear his voice, harden not your heart.” The master is Christ, so we’ve got to listen to hear the voice of Jesus calling to us in our hearts.

Through his sermons on the Song of Songs, Bernard was trying to help us understand what it means to obey God on a deep level. Basically, to obey God is to interiorly accept that the infinite presence of God is an ongoing self-donating act that is presencing itself and giving its very presence away as the gift of our very presence. Love is the fullness of presence. Infinite love is giving itself to us as the gift and the miracle of the immediacy of our very presence in our nothingness without God. To see that and to accept it is to obey God. Bernard is trying to reestablish the radicality of this infinite love, which is infinitely in love with us in our brokenness. He used the Song of Songs to do that because it’s a song about being in love. It’s romantic, sexual, erotic, mystical, and marital love. [1]

Bernard of Clairvaux comments on the opening lines of the Song of Songs:

Let Him kiss me with the kiss of His mouth (1:1). Who speaks? The bride. Who is she? The soul thirsting for God…. If one is a servant he is in dread of his lord’s face. If one is a hireling he hopes for pay from his lord’s hand. If one is a disciple he gives ear to his teacher. If one is a son he honors his father. But the soul who begs a kiss, is in love. Among the gifts of nature this affection of love holds first place, especially when it makes haste to return to its Origin, which is God. Words cannot be found so sweet as to express the sweet affections of the Word and the soul for each other, except bride and Bridegroom. [2]

=========

The All-Encompassing Ethic of Love. Skye Jethani

I recently read an interview where an influential pastor was asked why he and his congregation do not reflect the message and ethics of Jesus. Instead, they have become known for extreme political rhetoric that demonizes their cultural enemies, minorities, and even refugees. The pastor gave a two-word answer: “Under siege.”He believes conservative Christians in America are persecuted by a ruthless legion of militant secularists and threatened by an invasion of violent migrants. Under these perilous conditions, he explained, loving your enemies and turning the other cheek no longer makes sense. To follow the Sermon on the Mount would mean letting the forces of evil win and his country be destroyed. In other words, in his view, being “under siege” gives Christians permission to worship Jesus and not obey him. The stunning interview vividly illustrates a sentiment that’s not limited to Christian nationalists and culture warriors: nothing in the Sermon on the Mount makes people more uncomfortable than Jesus’ words against retaliation. His calls to not resist an evil person, to turn the other cheek, to walk the second mile, and to give more than what is demanded all seem like nonsense to those who feel threatened or who recognize the perils of our world. Anyone who actually lived what Jesus said, we are told, will never get ahead in the real world. For this reason, some, like the pastor in the interview, boldly dismiss Jesus’ words while still claiming to follow him as their Lord. Many more have simply tried to reinterpret Jesus’ teaching in light of practical realities; to make his counter-intuitive commands appear more conventional or, at least, less costly. Behind this is really a desire to justify ourselves. We desperately want to rationalize our hatred and anger. We want to retaliate and resist those who interfere with our desires. We want to believe our selfishness and devotion to self-preservation are not only acceptable but admirable Christian qualities. Jesus, however, leaves no room for such convolutions of his words. The ethic of love that dominates his kingdom is all-encompassing. Our call to self-sacrificial love must override and restrain our instinct for retaliation. Rather than reading these statements in the Sermon on the Mount as commands to be obeyed, twisted, or dismissed, we ought to see them as illustrations of what a life shaped by God’s kingdom looks like in practice. They are examples of what happens when we consider what is best for the other person rather than ourselves, even if that other person is our enemy. DAILY SCRIPTURE MATTHEW 5:38–42 1 PETER 2:18–25 WEEKLY PRAYER. John of the Cross (1542 – 1591) I no longer want just to hear about you, beloved Lord, through messengers. I no longer want to hear doctrines about you, nor to have my emotions stirred by people speaking of you. I yearn for your presence. These messengers simply frustrate and grieve me, because they remind me of how distant I am from you. They reopen wounds in my heart, and they seem to delay your coming to me. From this day onwards please send me no more messengers, no more doctrines, because they cannot satisfy my overwhelming desire for you. I want to give myself completely to you. And I want you to give yourself completely to me. The love which you show in glimpses, reveal to me fully. The love which you convey through messengers, speak it to me directly. I sometimes think you are mocking me by hiding yourself from me. Come to me with the priceless jewel of your love. Amen.

Group Discussion — choose one:

• Where in your life are you tempted to “worship Jesus and not obey him”?
• What does it stir in you to hear that God is “infinitely in love with us in our brokenness”?
• Which messengers or doctrines are you ready to set down in your hunger for direct presence?

Love Song of the Soul

In the CAC’s Essentials of Engaged Contemplation course, James Finley and Mirabai Starr describe how the Song of Songs in the Old Testament expresses the soul’s longing for God as well as God’s longing for us. Core faculty member James Finley says:  

The Song of Songs is one of the poetic works of the Wisdom literature in the Old Testament, along with the Torah and the Prophets. It’s a poem about two people who are very erotically and intensely in love with each other. They also have a deep reverence for each other, which is the gift of such love. The text’s inclusion in the Bible is interesting because it makes no mention of God.

The scholar Bernard McGinn points out that there’s an understanding of this poem that is relevant to faith communities. The Jewish community viewed it as a poem of God’s love for the Jewish people and of the people’s love as a community for God, but it’s also about each Jewish person’s love for God and God’s love for each person. That understanding carried over into the Christian tradition, where it’s read as God’s love for the church as well as God’s love for each Christian and their love for God. The central imagery reveals a deepening interplay of communion between God and humanity, collectively and personally.

CAC guest faculty member Mirabai Starr continues: 

The Song of Songs is our soul’s quintessential blueprint. We often have this sense that to be born is to be separated from our source. The path of this life, then, is a path of return and homecoming—and it’s characterized in many ways by longing, yearning, and remembering in our bones that we come from Love. The desire beyond all other desires is to return to Love. That spiritual longing is often expressed or mirrored in our human relationships. I don’t see that as a problem. Our human relationships are not illusions that stand in for the real thing, the spiritual longing of our spiritual selves. Rather, our human relationships are the field on which this love dance plays out in this life.

Finley concludes:

Anyone who’s ever been smitten by love doesn’t need to explain why the Song of Songs is sacred. In other words, love’s the best thing going. It’s way up there with hummingbirds and sunsets. It’s one of God’s better ideas, because a life rich with love is a life rich with meaning. God is the infinity of love; therefore, our love for each other is an incarnate manifestation of that infinite love, which is incarnate in our love for each other.

The Song of Songs expresses this love song of the heart. The rhythms of the poet’s voice are the rhythms of love itself. The language is so poetic because it’s evocatively incarnating the nonlinear realizations of love. That’s why, when we read Scripture this way, it affects us at such a deep level.

The Holy of Holies

Monday, May 4, 2025

If a dream of God is a delicate thing, how much more so a dream of God the Lover.
—Ellen Davis, Getting Involved with God

The Old Testament scholar Ellen Davis shares the history of the Song of Songs’ inclusion in the Bible: 

Here is a book that barely (no pun intended) made it into the Bible, and with good reason. It never mentions God, at least not explicitly, and it mentions a lot of other things we would not expect to find in the Bible. The scriptural status of the Song of Songs is so questionable that the Talmud actually records the great debate…. It was the declamation of Rabbi Akiba, the great teacher, scholar, and martyr of early Judaism, that finally carried the day:

Heaven forbid! No Jew ever questioned the sanctity of the Song of Songs; for all the world is not worth the day when the Song of Songs was given to Israel. For all the writings are holy, but the Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies! [1] …

Akiba’s view of the Song’s unique holiness carried not only that day, but well over a millennium of biblical interpretation among both Jews and Christians. The eight chapters of the Song of Songs have generated more commentary than almost any other book of the Bible…. In the thirteenth century, Bernard [of Clairvaux] wrote eighty-six sermons on the Song of Songs, and he never got beyond chapter three, verse one!

In recent years, however, this tide of interpretation has turned…. The present consensus is that the Song of Songs is a celebration of human sexuality that was included in the canon of scripture by mistake, because the ancient rabbis thought it was about the love of God and Israel….

If the Song is solely a celebration of human love, then nowhere within the covers of the Bible is there a truly happy story about God and Israel (or God and the Church) in love…. If the Song has nothing to do with the story of God and Israel after all, then there is nowhere to turn to hear one partner say, “I love you,” and the other answer right back, “Yes, yes; I love you, too.” For this is the only place in the Bible where there is a dialogue of love.

Davis describes how the Song of Songs overcomes the separation that began in Genesis between God, humanity, and the earth: 

The poet of the Song has a dream, and in that dream all the ruptures that occurred in Eden are repaired…. Following carefully and imaginatively where the words of the Song lead, we can share the poet’s and God’s dream of the original harmony of creation restored…. A woman and a man, equally powerful, are lost in admiration of each other—or more accurately, in admiration they truly find themselves and each other. And the natural world rejoices with them.

==================

Individual Reflection

Where does the two-way dialogue of love — “I love you” answered by “I love you, too” — feel most alive or most absent in you right now?

Group Discussion — choose one:

1. Starr says our human relationships are “the field on which this love dance plays out.” What does that stir as you sit with your own?
2. Davis writes that the Song’s poet dreams the ruptures of Eden repaired. What in you longs toward that dream?
3. What would it mean to receive the Song of Songs as written to you — not about someone else’s love, but God’s love song to your own soul?

Morning Has Broken – Cat Stevens

Father Richard teaches that a practice of contemplation carries us into the “Big River” of God’s love, enabling us to release our fears.  

Grace and mercy teach us that we are all much larger than the good or bad stories we tell about ourselves or one another. Our small, fear-based stories are usually less than half true, and therefore not really “true” at all. They’re usually based on hurts and unconscious agendas that persuade us to see and judge things in a very selective way. They’re not the whole You, not the Great You. It’s not the great river and therefore not where Life can really happen. No wonder the Spirit is described as “flowing water” and as “a spring inside you” (John 4:10–14) or as a “river of life” (Revelation 22:1–2).  

I believe that faith might be precisely that ability to trust the Big River of God’s providential love, which is to trust its visible embodiment (the Christ), the flow (the Holy Spirit), and the source itself (the Creator). This is a divine process that we don’t have to change, coerce, or improve. We just need to allow it and enjoy it. That takes immense confidence in God, especially when we’re hurting. Often, we feel ourselves get panicky and quickly want to make things right. We lose our ability to be present and go up into our heads and start obsessing. At that point we’re not really feeling or experiencing things in our hearts and bodies. We’re oriented toward making things happen, trying to push or even create our own river. Yet the Big River is already flowing through us and each of us is only one small part of it. 

Faith does not need to push the river precisely because it is able to trust that there is a river. The river is flowing; we are already in it. This is probably the deepest meaning of “divine providence.” So do not be afraid. We have been proactively given the Spirit by a very proactive God.  

Ask yourself regularly, “What am I afraid of? Does it matter? Will it matter in the great scheme of things? Is it worth holding on to?” We have to ask whether it is fear that keeps us from loving. Grace will lead us into such fears and emptiness, and grace alone can fill them, if we are willing to stay in the void. We mustn’t engineer an answer too quickly. We mustn’t get settled too fast. We all want to manufacture an answer to take away our anxiety and settle the dust. To stay in God’s hands, to trust, means that we usually have to let go of our attachments to feelings—which are going to pass away anyway. People of deep faith develop a high tolerance for ambiguity and come to recognize that it is only the small self that needs certitude or perfect order all the time. The true self is perfectly at home in the River of Mystery.

Reference:
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer, rev. ed. (Crossroad Publishing, 2003), 142–144.

Jesus Calling -Sarah Young

    Come to Me with all your weaknesses: physical, emotional, and spiritual. Rest in the comfort of My Presence, remembering that nothing is impossible with Me. 

    Pry your mind away from your problems so you can focus your attention on Me. Recall that I am able to do immeasurably more than all you ask or imagine. Instead of trying to direct Me to do this and that, seek to attune yourself to what I am already doing.

    When anxiety attempts to wedge its way into your thoughts, remind yourself that I am your Shepherd. The bottom line is that I am taking care of you; therefore, you needn’t be afraid of anything. Rather than trying to maintain control over your life, abandon yourself to My will. Though this may feel frightening–even dangerous, the safest place to be is in My will.

RELATED SCRIPTURE: 

Luke 1:37 NLT

37 For the word of God will never fail.”

Daily devotional book

Ephesians 3:20-21 (NLT)

20 Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. 21 Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen.

Additional insight regarding Ephesians 3:20-21: This doxology – prayer of praise to God – ends Part 1 of Ephesians. In the first section, Paul describes the timeless role of the church. In Part 2 (chapters 4-6), he will explain how church members should live in order to bring about the unity God wants. As in most of his books, Paul first lays a doctrinal foundation and then makes practical applications of the truths he has presented.

John Chaffee Five on Friday

1.

“Lord, teach me to be generous,
to serve you as you deserve,
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to heed the wounds,
to toil and not to seek for rest,
to labor and not to look for any reward,
save that of knowing that I do your holy will.”

– A Prayer from St. Ignatius of Loyola

For several months now, I have been working through the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola.

Ignatius was a 16th-century Spanish infantryman who left his sword and shield behind after taking a cannonball to the legs.  During his recovery, they had to rebreak his legs to help them to heal better, and it left him with a limp for the rest of his life.  These were some of the most formative years of his life, and during his life, he founded the Jesuits and wrote the Spiritual Exercises (something like a military-style manual for spiritual formation).

Over the years, I have found Ignatius of Loyola’s life and wisdom to be quite helpful.  This prayer has recentered me more than once, and is doing so for me again this week.

2.

“Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.“

– Saul of Tarsus in Romans 6:7-9

Just before Easter, I was able to go to St. Paul’s Basilica in Rome to pray, where the Apostle’s bones are buried beneath the altar.

Actually, it is more that I tried to pray.  I couldn’t quite do it.

Not because of some lack of reverence, but because of some surplus of it.

Something within me glitched as I knelt in that massive church.

I could not comprehend what was in the bone box right in front of me.

The bones of St. Paul?  Really?

Sure, there is plausible deniability, but if there is deniability, then there is also a plausible possibility!

I had studied the life and letters of Paul for literal decades of my life.  I was even given the opportunity to learn ancient Greek in seminary and read about his life and letters in their original language.  What a privilege!

Since that day of visiting St. Paul’s bones, I read his words in a different way.  I can’t quite pinpoint it, but his words now resonate as if on a new frequency for me.

It is fascinating how ancient words we know so well can suddenly take on a new freshness we could not make happen ourselves.

3.

“The vast majority of people walking away from Christianity in America are not rejecting the person and work of Jesus.  They are rejecting faulty biblical interpretations that lead to bigotry, oppression, and marginalization.  This rejection isn’t unchristian.  It is Christlike.”

– Zach Lambert, Texan Pastor of Restore Church

I have said this in other ways, but this is pretty well to the point.

It is actually a form of devotion to true Christianity to reject and walk away from a false one.

4.

“Emotionally immature people have a poor sense of personal history and resist being accountable for their past actions or future consequences.”

– Lindsay C. Gibson in Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents

Thanks, Mark.  This book you bought for me (and for Mike) is kind of rocking me.

Fortunately, I believe my parents were/are emotionally mature and healthy people who did a great job in our household.

That said, this book is doing much to help me understand people in general.  As someone who pastors and gives spiritual direction, anything that helps me better understand how we cope and how we respond to one another is enormously helpful.

The human person is infinitely complex, and with so many nuances and exceptions to the rule that it can be disorienting, and so I admit that a book like this is enlightening.

When I see immaturity in myself or in others, it irks me terribly.

I firmly believe that a healthy Christian spirituality helps us to “clean up, grow up, wake up, and show up” to our own lives.  Authentic faith helps us take accountability for ourselves and puts us back “on the hook” to become the best versions of ourselves.

I firmly believe that we have an ethical and spiritual responsibility to those around us to be the most virtuous, whole, and loving versions of ourselves.  The world already has enough trauma from our general immaturity and vices that I actually believe Jesus is in favor of whatever helps us to grow more fully into human beings who help one another to heal and be well.

5.

“The only hope, or else despair
Lies in the choice of pyre of pyre- 
To be redeemed from fire by fire.”

– TS Eliot, British Poet

It is either one fire or another.  That is the choice.

Do I want the fires of my own self-created hell?  Do I want to be in the midst of the conflagration of my own vices?

Or…

Would I prefer the purifying fires of my own conscience leading me into repentance and into reformation/transformation?

Pyre or pyre?

Will I consent to the fires of God’s purifying Love that will redeem me?

Or, will I avoid that holy fire and choose to be painfully subject to the terrifying flames of my own self-destruction?

The question is not, “Will I be burned?”

The question is, “Which fire do I consent to be burned by?  The holy one or the unholy one?”

Holding Steady in Prayer

Thursday, April 30, 2026

I said to the Lord, I’m going to hold steady on to you, and I know you will see me through.
—Harriet Tubman, Scenes in the Life of Harriet Tubman

Spiritual director Therese Taylor-Stinson offers Harriet Tubman as a model of spiritual courage:

Harriet [Tubman] made three attempts to freedom but returned each time because of fear. The fear of being alone. The fear of dying. The fear of never seeing her family again or being part of a vital community…. Fear can be debilitating. Overcoming debilitating fear brings a new sense of freedom and a focus to accomplish your goal, though the struggle that ensues may seem like only a first step for some. To escape your enslavers is to take ownership of your own life. That is not just a physical or intellectual achievement. It is an emotional achievement that changes how you view yourself and how you allow others to view you. [1]

Taylor-Stinson describes how Tubman’s faith has inspired her own reliance on prayer in times of crisis:

Throughout [Harriet’s] life of approximately ninety-three years, she returned to God again and again, asking for protection, insight, and the ability to lead her family and others to freedom. Despite the many close calls and her own fragility, she would breathe deeply and present herself to God through prayer and song and faith, believing in her call to freedom. [2]

Later in life, she would say that she always knew when danger was near…. She said God would tell her when to stop, when to leave the road, or when to turn in another direction. She was always in prayerful discernment: “’Twasn’t me, ‘twas the Lord! I always told Him, ‘I trust you. I don’t know where to go or what to do, but I expect You to lead me,’ an’ He always did. I prayed to God to make me strong and able to fight, and that’s what I’ve always prayed for ever since.”…

Reflecting on the way Harriet faced uncertain times, times of need, even as she sought to help others, I think of a time in my own life—a time of great trial, a time I was unable to pray, a time I felt silenced by others; I fell silent myself, except for one name I repeated again and again: “Jesus.” I did not know what significance the name held, but it was all I had. As the saying and the song go, “There’s something about the name of Jesus!” I found that my silence was prayer. My willingness to trust the unknown was prayer. My desolation was prayer. My intention for a Presence surely greater than me was prayer. I would say, like Jacob, “I will not let go until you bless me.” Though uncertain about what the blessing might be or how the blessing would be delivered, I walked in trust. I trusted that something greater than myself lived in me and would see me through. [3]

References:
[1] Therese Taylor-Stinson, Walking the Way of Harriet Tubman: Public Mystic & Freedom Fighter (Broadleaf Books, 2023), 99–100.

[2] Taylor-Stinson, Walking, 27.

[3] Taylor-Stinson, Walking, 117, 119.

Jesus Calling – April 1st, 2026

Jesus Calling – Sarah Young

I am calling you to a life of constant communion with Me. Basic training includes learning to live above your circumstances, even while interacting on that cluttered plane of life. You yearn for a simplified lifestyle, so that your communication with Me can be uninterrupted. But I challenge you to relinquish the fantasy of an uncluttered world. Accept each day as it comes, and find Me in the midst of it all.
Talk with Me about every aspect of your day, including your feelings. Remember that your ultimate goal is not to control or fix everything around you; it is to keep communing with Me. A successful day is one in which you have stayed in touch with Me, even if many things remain undone at the end of the day. Do not let your to-do list (written or mental) become an idol directing your life. Instead, ask My Spirit to guide you moment by moment. He will keep you close to Me.

RELATED SCRIPTURE:

1st Thessalonians 5:17 (NIV)
17 pray continually,

Proverbs 3:6 (NIV)
6 in all your ways submit to him,
    and he will make your paths straight.

Today’s Prayer:

Heavenly Father,

Today, I come before You seeking constant communion. Help me to rise above life’s clutter in order to embrace each moment as it comes while finding You amidst it all. Grant me the wisdom to surrender the idea of a perfect world and instead, to engage fully with Your presence in every day in every way.

Guide me, Lord, to communicate with You openly, sharing my joys and struggles without reservation or hesitation. Teach me to release the need for control, understanding that true and fulfilling success lies in staying connected with You, regardless of what remains unfinished.

May Your Spirit lead me moment by moment, day by day, shaping my path according to Your will. Let my heart be ever attuned to Your presence as I submit all my ways to You. 

In Jesus’ name, amen.

Breathing in Love, Breathing out Fear

Wednesday, April 29, 2026

READ ON CAC.ORG

Author Diana Butler Bass recounts how fear continued to accompany the disciples well after the resurrection:

If you remember back several weeks, you might recall the reading for the first Sunday of Easter:

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.”… Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you….” When he had said this, he breathed on them…. [John 20:19–22].

…. The end of the Easter season is also the end of the first half of the Christian year. The cycle of Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, and Easter focus on the story of Jesus—the promise of his coming, his birth, the light he brings to the world, the seriousness of his mission, his execution, and the mystery of his resurrection….

And here’s the odd thing, something I never really noticed until this year. Fear is foundational to the first half of the year. It isn’t just that the disciples were afraid after Jesus died. The story began—way back in Advent—with the angel telling Mary, “Fear not!”…

Six months later in the church year, Jesus’ story ends with “Peace I leave with you … do not let your hearts be afraid”.…

As the author of 1 John later wrote, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear” [1 John 4:18]. I think that is the point of Jesus’ life, the story we retrace in the first half of the Christian year, the culmination of which is the Easter season: Perfect love casts out fear.

Butler Bass acknowledges that fear is a biological response and universal experience, but that Jesus’s assurance is also true:

“Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you….’ When he had said this, he breathed on them…”

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.”

The door opens toward love—the love of God, the love of neighbor.

I can’t explain it. All I know is that it is right. And I feel it. When I’m scared, I breathe. My breath. Sacred breath. Spirit breath. The in, out, in, out, in, out of life. My heart slows and opens, making room for the other, giving space to love. In, out, in, out. Breathe in peace. Breathe out love.

Peace, love. Peace, love.

Fear abates.

Perfect love casts out fear.

I think of the first words of scripture, how “in the beginning” there was nothing but chaos. Then, God breathed. Chaos was transformed by that breath into a world of beauty and sustenance.

Easter began in confusion and terror behind a locked door. Now, it comes to a quiet conclusion in the breathing … the promise and possibility of new creation. Peace, love.

Perhaps that’s what is meant by resurrection. Being raised from the deadened weight of fear to love.

=====================

From Bradley Jersak

THIS SHEPHERD 

Brothers, sisters,
Siblings in Christ
(and who isn’t?).

We’re all the sheep of his pasture,
and Jesus is truly our good, good Shepherd.

This Shepherd Good,
whose birth to earth,
whose great descent
into our Hades—
saved and saves us
(not least from ourselves).

This Shepherd Great
sought and found me
tangled in thorns,
gorging on blackberries,
(blood-sweet, in tears),
lips stained red with guilt.

This Shepherd Gentle,
whose clarion voice I knew,
called and called 
and called until I lay down.
(Did he make me?
Or did I break me?).
Yes. In him we rest.

This Shepherd Guide
leads me on right paths,
to quiet waters,
if I consent,
when I don’t resist
as soon as I surrender
(one day at a time).

This Shepherd Kind
so gentle, ever attentive,
and woah! Oh so severe,
this Mama Bear,
in the shadowy gulch,
warding off darkness and dread 
even in death’s false victories.

This Shepherd Strong
who never, ever
breaks a little lamb’s leg—
no shepherd has or does.
But the serpents’ skull…
hangs crushed,
a trophy above his hearth.

This Shepherd Love—
If harm were his way to save us,
he is not good at it. No good at all.
And though long-suffering stings,
the whispers of wise Love 
gently persuade us home.

This Shepherd’s Love
takes time—
wades through mess—
then pours rivers of oil,
of mercy,
of gladness,
of life
through our parched souls.

This Shepherd Host,
at whose table wide
we dine and wine 
(or whine)
with enemies
until they’re not
(pass the salt,… friend?).

This Shepherd King
cross-shaped throne,
thorny crown,
leads us
through hell,
through bed,
through bath,
and beyond.

Into his house,
where we dwell.
At his table,
we feast.
In his flock,
we gather
without lack,
souls restored…
or will be soon.

All our days
all our nights,
every dusk and dawn
of our lives,
of his life
forever.

WELCOME TO HIS TABLE

So, my friends, takeaways…

He’s a good, good Shepherd,
He knows you so well,
calls you by name,

You do know his voice, 
you have followed his lead,
even through deep, dangerous gulleys,
sometimes co-suffering with you,

But always I hear him promise,
”I will never abandon you,
I know the way through,
back to the Table,
My Table.
Where you and all are most welcome.”

Sunday, April 26, 2026

Jesus said to his disciples, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Have faith in God. Have faith also in me.”
—John 14:1

Father Richard Rohr reflects on the relationship between anxiety, fear, and faith:

Our time has been called the age of anxiety, and I think that’s probably a good description. We no longer know what or where our foundations are. When we’re not sure what is certain, when the world and our worldview keep being redefined every few months, we’re going to be anxious. Understandably, we want to get rid of that anxiety as quickly as we can. I know I do. Yet, to be a good leader of anything today—a good pastor, manager, parent, teacher, or even a good citizen, we have to be able to contain and patiently hold a certain degree of anxiety and fear. Greater levels of leadership require leaders who are capable of holding greater anxiety. Leaders who cannot hold anxiety will never lead us any place good or new.

That’s probably why the Bible says “Do not be afraid” almost 150 times! If we cannot calmly hold a certain degree of fear and anxiety, we will always look for somewhere to expel it. Expelling what we can’t embrace gives us an identity, but it’s a negative identity. It’s not life energy, it’s death energy.  

Can we recognize how different the alternative of faith and trust is? Faith can only build on a totally positive place within, however small. God just needs an interior “Yes” to begin, a mustard-seed-sized place that is in love—not fear—that is open to grace.  [1]

One could sum up the Bible, and our lives, as an interplay of fear and faith. In general, people are obsessed and overpowered by fears; they fear what they cannot control. God is one of our primary fears, because God is totally beyond us and totally beyond our control. The good news is that God has breached that fear and become one of us in Jesus. Through Jesus, God says, in effect, “You can stop being afraid. It’s okay. You don’t have to live in chattering fear of me.”

The opening chapter of Luke’s Gospel presents Mary as the archetypal Christian because God comes into her life and proclaims the divine presence within her, immediately telling her through the angel, “Do not be afraid” (Luke 1:30). Through the same divine Spirit, God comes into our lives and announces the divine presence within each of us. All we are asked to do is be present and open. Only after God calls Mary beyond her fear does God give the message of her calling. 

Fear can keep us from hearing what is really being said. Mary’s spirituality is focused on trusting. She said, “Let what you have said be done to me” (Luke 1:38). She doesn’t try to explain or understand. She just says, “I trust you, God. Do with me what you will. Let it be.”

Calming Our Fears

Monday, April 27, 2026

Father Richard responds to the question, “Why was Jesus not afraid?”:

Jesus seemed to know from an early age that we cannot build on fear. We can build only on life; only life leads to life. Jesus went to the deepest source of life. He gazed long and hard into God’s eyes; there, somehow, but most assuredly, he overcame fear. He did not find assurance that he would “win,” because humanly speaking, he didn’t. And I don’t believe that he found assurance that he was right, either, although we tend to think he knew it all.

His only assurance was knowing he spoke only what he had first heard (see John 8:28). He handed over the vision that he had seen in God’s eyes: a love that overcomes fear, and offers a terrible, wonderful courage, allowing us to release our life, to let it fall and go where it might. Jesus’s trust was not in himself but in who he knew he was before God.

When Jesus preaches, he tells others what he first heard: “Do not be afraid.” He learned that well from his own tradition. Those words were communicated again and again, through God, other people, and in prayer: To Abraham and Sarah, God said, “Do not be afraid.” To Moses, “Do not be afraid.” To Joshua and Gideon, “Do not be afraid.” To Samuel and Hannah, “Do not be afraid.” To Judith, “Do not afraid.” To David, in the prayers of his heart, “Do not be afraid.”

To the people of Israel, throughout the prophets again and again, and in every type of cataclysmic situation: “Do not be afraid.”  Through Isaiah, “Do not be afraid.” To Joseph, the father of Jesus and husband of Mary, “Do not be afraid.” And, of course, to Mary who said yes, the angel said, “Do not be afraid, Mary.”

Why this word over and over again? Because we’re afraid! We’re wrapped and sometimes even trapped in our fear. We want to go beyond it and yet somehow it controls us. We fear what we do not know and do not understand. We fear that what we are afraid of will control us, while we long to control our own lives.

Deep down, we long for freedom, but if we want to be free from fear, we must be willing to gaze into God’s eyes as Jesus did. We must be willing to ask the same questions Jesus was asking. It’s not important that we get answers. I don’t think Jesus got that many answers, but we need to be asking the right questions: What is it that we desire? What is it that we’re trying to protect? What is it that we’re afraid is going to overtake us and control us?

We can’t attack fear head on. We can’t simply say to ourselves, “Don’t be afraid” because it doesn’t work. It isn’t that simple. We have to go deeper, be curious about where the fear is coming from, and trust God with it. 

Individual Reflection

Where do you most need to hear “Do not be afraid” today?

Group Discussion — choose one:

1. What is your fear trying to protect, and what would it mean to bring it into God’s gaze rather than expel it onto someone or something else?
2. Mary’s response was “let it be done to me.” Where in your life are you being invited to that posture right now?
3. Rohr says we cannot attack fear head-on — we have to go deeper and get curious about where it’s coming from. What might “going deeper” look like for you this week?

Hospitality on Our Earth Home

Friday, April 24, 2026

We can begin to heal that rift between our love and actions, our values and our daily lives, by turning our attention to whatever patch of ground we have been given to tend, even if it is a potted planter on a balcony in the city.
—Ragan Sutterfield, Watch and Wonder

An avid bird watcher, Anglican priest Ragan Sutterfield reflects on what it means to practice hospitality to nature in its many forms: 

Hospitality, in the Christian understanding, is at the heart of all existence, the creation itself. Nothing exists of necessity, all is an extravagance—a gift of the God who made room for the creation…. What if part of what that means is that we too are meant to make room—that part of being fully human is to open up space for other creatures? [1]

Sutterfield suggests ways we can disrupt the commodification of nature and act hospitably: 

To plant a garden, to create a wetland—these seem like small acts in the face of our world of concrete, our obsession with never-ending economic growth. What difference can it make? I think of G. K. Chesterton’s comment, in his wonderful economic critique, The Outline of Sanity, which takes aim at industrial capitalism’s takeover of small shops and farms:

Do anything, however small, that will prevent the completion of the work of capitalist combination. Do anything that will even delay that completion. Save one shop out of a hundred shops…. Keep open one door out of a hundred doors; for so long as one door is open, we are not in prison. Ahab has not his kingdom so long as Naboth has his vineyard [1 Kings 21]. Haman will not be happy in the palace while Mordecai is sitting in the gate [Esther 5:9–13]…. [2]

Hospitality is more than resistance, however; it is also a sacramental practice—a way by which we learn to recognize the holy in the wild lives around us. “There are no unsacred places,” writes Wendell Berry, “there are only sacred places and desecrated places.” The practice of reconciliation ecology is an act in which we relate to the world in its sacredness, keeping ourselves from seeing it as a mere landscape or an interchangeable abstraction for our desires.

I think here of the Orthodox churches of Ethiopia, many of which preserve a belt of forest around their buildings to resemble a renewed Eden. Those sacred forests are now providing the seeds for restoration in the larger landscape, which has been decimated by extractive agriculture. What if we kept alive our yards, the marginal places in the midst of our cities, our places of worship and work, as sacred—not only as places of hospitality for the wild now but also as sources of hospitality for the future? What if each yard could host the future of the planet by holding onto the life needed to reseed the world when we finally wake from the delusions of our extractive ways of life? [3]

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John Chaffee 5 On Friday

1.

“Emotionally immature people don’t step back and think about how their behavior impacts others. There’s no cringe factor for them, so they seldom apologize or experience regret.”

– Lindsay C. Gibson in Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents

For the record, I have not read this book yet.  However, I heard about it from a good friend, and it has been enlightening.

So this week I googled some quotes from it, and this was one of the standout ones.

Emotionally healthy/mature people are able to meaningfully reflect on their own behavior and “cringe.”    It is from this moment of self-accountability that mature people apologize and make a conscious change to their behavior.

As I think back over my life, I realize I have encountered people who seem to have an invincible wall against their own “cringe moments.”  And, if I am being honest, those types are the most difficult for me to stay in a relationship with… but you can go far with someone who knows how to apologize and make amends.

2.

“Is not the person who strips another of clothing called a thief?  And those who do not clothe the naked when they have the power to do so, should they not be called the same?”

– Basil of Caesarea, 4th Century Early Church Father & Bishop

Basil of Caesarea is one of the Cappadocian theologians of the 4th century.  The other two were Gregory of Nazianzus and Gregory of Nyssa (who also happened to be Basil’s younger brother).  Together, they were titans of theology and contributed much to the discussion of orthodox theology at a time when the creeds of the early church were just beginning to be formalized.

Fascinatingly enough, Basil and Gregory came from a very rich, aristocratic family.  They held enormous esteem in their region, and their large family produced many notable figures who later became considered saints.

That said, Basil was deeply struck by the account of the young rich man who came to Jesus asking about eternal life, and walked away saddened when Jesus told him to sell all of his possessions and give them to the poor.

Here it is, in full:

“Just then a man came up to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?”

“Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.”

“Which ones?” he inquired.

Jesus replied, “‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, honor your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbor as yourself.’”

“All these I have kept,” the young man said. “What do I still lack?”

Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”

When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.” (Matthew 19:16-22)

No doubt, this deeply impacted Basil, who came from a wealthy family and was likely a young man himself when he heard or read that passage of Scripture.  In response, Basil became an outspoken preacher against materialism and how greed and avarice come at the cost of caring for our neighbors with less.

For Basil, being rich was not a problem.  The problem was storing all that accumulated wealth and not using it to benefit those around you.  In this way, Basil connected the issue of wealth directly with the command to “love your neighbor as yourself.”

If you would like to read Basil’s sermons on the topic, I highly recommend this one by the Popular Patristics Series.

3.

“As a handful of sand thrown into the sea, so are the sins of all humanity in the ocean of divine mercy.”

– Isaac of Nineveh, 7th Century Ascetic

Not only is the love and grace of God unconditional, but it is also infinite.

4.

“Psychologically, as long as we are criticizing, diagnosing, passing judgment, we will at some level be bracing for counterattack, where if we lead with empathy, we remain secure and grounded.  We give and receive mercy through the same opening.”

– Isaac Slater in Do Not Judge Anyone: Desert Wisdom for a Polarized World

Isaac Slater is a Cistercian monk, a member of a Catholic order known for its cloistered life of silence, ora et labora (prayer and work), and an intense practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience.

I have been reading this book because I realized how dang judgmental I am.  I am excruciatingly judgmental in my head, and I am certain it sometimes leaks out.  So why not hit the nail on the head and intentionally get a book of wisdom about the very topic?

Do Not Judge Anyone is full of references to the New Testament and figures from the early Desert Monastics (whom I am a fond admirer of).  It is not a flashy book, but it packs a punch, and I am finding myself underlining whole paragraphs.  It is such a good read, it is making me realize how prevalent judgment is in our world, and that it is so much easier to talk about anything else but how we want to feel better about ourselves by finding someone else to look down on.

My goodness, we are such a wreck, aren’t we?  Lord, have mercy.

5.

“Love needs no cause beyond itself, nor does it demand fruits; it is its own purpose.  I love because I love; I love that I may love.”

– St. Bernard of Clairvaux, 12th Century Cistercian Monk

Meister Eckhart said something similar.

Love does not need a why.

Love just loves.

Love has no desire to manipulate or force a particular outcome.

Love loves with freedom and without strings attached.

If Love ever loves for the purpose of being reciprocated, to control, to effect a particular outcome, to be seen as loving, or for any other reason than simply to Love… then it isn’t Love; it is a mutation or a malformed mode of relationship.