Lenten Devotional 2019

Invitation to Join the Journey

During this season of Lent, we incline our ears to hear what God is saying to us. Within the pages of this devotional, you will find Scripture passages in which God speaks. Members of the seminary community responded to these passages with their own reflections and stories about communicating with God. In community, we now reflect on these passages together and invite you to reflect on these passages of divine communication.

There is blank space left on each page of this devotional for you to respond in your own way— journaling, writing, creating, drawing, or any other form of communication you would like to try this Lenten season.

If you would like to take this journey on your devices, download the free app “Forty Days: A Lenten Journey” (available on both Android and Apple app stores). You can also journey online at www.ptsem.edu/lent2019.

We hope this devotional is a blessing to you during this season of Lent. ~Audrey Webber and Tom Dearduff Co-coordinators of the Lenten Devotional 2019

Lenten Devotional 2019 Princeton Theological Seminary

Springtime in the Park Woodie Webber, Spouse, Oil Paint on Canvas

Introduction Dear Reader,

In this season of Lent, we journey together.

As we journey together, it is our prayer that these scriptures and reflections will enable each of us to travel deeper into our hearts and souls this Lenten season.

I am deeply grateful for Audrey Webber and Tom Dearduff, our 2019 Lenten Devotional Co-Coordinators. I am ever thankful for their creative spirits, wonderful gifts, and faithful work that have woven this book together.

I am also deeply grateful to the students, family members, staff, faculty, and trustees who generously contributed to this Devotional through written contributions and artwork. In addition to the authors, whose names you will see on each page, we are grateful for the hard work of our content editors: Kelli Green and Rachel Rim. Additional words of thanks go to the Communications/External Relations and the IT Offices who have worked with us to make our Devotional available in both print and electronically.

As you travel this Lenten journey, we invite you to keep your Bible close at hand. You will find a scripture passage for each day.

Grace and peace to you in this Lenten Season,

Minister of the Chapel

March 6, 2019

Luke 18:9-14

“All who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.”

———

Jesus tells the story about a Pharisee exalting himself in prayer while disparaging a tax collector who is in his presence. In this story, the tax collector is also praying. However, the tax collector has a posture of shame and regret, demonstrating humility. Further, it appears that the tax collector isn’t paying any attention to the Pharisee. Let’s look at this a little deeper.

The shame and humility of the tax collector finds him standing far off, unable to raise his eyes towards heaven, and beating his chest before he even utters a word! Then he says, “God, turn your wrath from me—a sinner!” All this while, he has no regard for whoever may be present. Approaching God with a repentant heart isn’t something we do for show or recognition.

Approaching God with a repentant heart is not a prideful or boastful expression. When we repent, we are letting God know that we are aware of the grace that abounds in our lives by virtue of God being God…not anything that we have done or could ever do.

Jesus gave us a language template for prayer that we all know as The Lord’s Prayer. The Tax Collector gave us a behavior template of humility. May we always be humble when we pray.

Rev. Yedea H. Walker, MDiv, JD, Pastoral Resident

March 7, 2019

Numbers 6:22-26

“You shall say to them, The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you; the Lord lift us his countenance upon you, and give you peace.”

———

I have always been drawn to this prayer, which was used as a benediction in my childhood church. I have also thought about who offers this blessing. It was the priest. In my childhood church, it was the preacher. Because a number of churches are currently marked by scandals such as the sexual abuse of children and women, we need leaders who affirm that God’s blessings are with us. God smiles upon us. We need leaders who can facilitate experiences where people can encounter new manifestations of God’s peace and love. As a leader, I want people to feel safe and secure knowing that God intends good for them.

Yet, church leaders are not the only persons who can pronounce blessings on us. After experiencing a very traumatic period in my life, a little girl walked up to me one Sunday and passionately told me that God’s peace was with me. I was in need of deep encouragement that day, and as I looked down at this young girl holding my hand, tears rolled down my eyes. She issued a blessing over me. I heard God’s voice. Particles of strength and healing began to gather around me. God’s face smiled upon me in the most surprising and unlikely way.

Let us remind ourselves and others that God’s favor, love, and peace are with us. Always.

Keri Day, Associate Professor of Constructive Theology and African American Religion

March 8, 2019

Mark 1:1-11

“You are my Son, the Beloved, with you I am well pleased.”

———

We’ve got to wonder, I mean, really, all the time but as Jesus from Nazareth came out of that water eyelashes batting away droplets and snot escaping down his philtrum as he gasped for breath, for new life was he surprised to see the sky torn open? warm sunlight, sure, but the heavens outta nowhere and something that resembled a dove? could he have gasped? or giggled? or let out a sigh of relief ? as some voice saw him and named him and claimed him as their own, confirming that for all those times he had followed his intuition, gone where he felt he needed to be, and lived the way his solar plexus quietly nudged, he was pleasing to something far larger, a web that was invisible and unclear but now ripped open for all of the surrounding creatures to hear it’s hard to imagine the voice was very quiet and John the baptizer must’ve been losing his marbles, jacked up on sugar from all that wild honey, I bet he was a sight to see Astonishment clad in camel’s hair sporting the original fanny pack no less as he heard the One who is more powerful than he God, thank you for moments like this where your glory is impossible to deny, thank you for revealing them on paths that are often far from straight they are queer & curvy & dirty & slow Thank you for all that you are, for all you told Jesus he would be today and every day, give us courage to look for the Spirit descending like a dove and moving among us. Amen.

Gail Madeline Tierney, MDiv Junior

March 9, 2019

Luke 12:49-53

“Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth?”

———

As a member of a large, close-knit family, I found this a difficult passage. However you define your family—biological, adopted, or chosen—no one wants to feel divided from their nearest and dearest. Over the past couple years, people worldwide seem ever more divided, broken along many lines. In countless cases, these fault lines have split families.

Even so, I find an odd comfort in the passage. Jesus asks his followers whether he came to bring peace. Yes would seem the obvious answer. But no, he claims he came to divide. It’s a radical statement to go with a radical kingdom. Could division also be a part, albeit a painful part, of this breaking open?

After all, the path Jesus sets—the twofold command to love God and neighbor—is simple, but it is far from easy. Humankind has been given the work of reconciliation. Jesus set the mandate and the example. Following the path sometimes means encountering separation and division. And yet, no matter how divided we feel, we are never alone.

When the hurt and the division seem too great, I often take up my camera and go for a walk. Being out in nature helps to clear my mind and open my heart, and snapping photos helps me to slow down and appreciate the beauty and majesty of creation around me. I look and listen for God in the flowers, breezes and streams. Inhale peace and hope; exhale a silent amen.

Patrick McComas, Spouse

Untitled

Gary Lindgren, Security Officer, Thermal Drawing

March 10, 2019

Matthew 5:14-16 “Let your light shine.”

———

On August 3, 2018, I lost a beloved friend and former colleague. Bob Brennan was the Director of Communications at Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in Manhattan, where I served prior to coming to PTS. Bob joined the staff of the Church after retiring as Director of Communications at UNICEF where he traveled around the world with the celebrity ambassadors. Bob had amazing stories.

In 1994, Bob traveled with Judy Collins to Sarajevo during the Bosnian war. On their final night there, the children and families invited them to an outdoor concert to offer their gratitude to UNICEF, which was bringing supplies of food, water and medicine. There was no electricity, so all the families showed up with candles. They all sat in a circle on the ground. They sang to Judy and to Bob. Judy Collins in turn sang to them. Upon returning home, she wrote and recorded “The Song for Sarajevo.”

Bob was always deeply moved by this visit to these children who told them about their game of counting landmines on their way to school. The officials would then go and remove them. Somehow, these children and their families could still light candles and sing songs of gratitude and hope. As Jesus says, “Let your light shine.” We are to light candles and sing songs in all seasons.

Jan Ammon, Minister of the Chapel

March 11, 2019

Exodus 33:12-14

“My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”

———

“Proposed: Reading Week should be followed by a second week of vacation called Sleeping Week.”

Not surprisingly, my Facebook post received quite a few likes from my fellow seminarians. As graduate students, we often feel a bit like hamsters trapped in an eternal wheel. Classes, term papers, and required readings fill our school hours while the stresses of work, home, and family life claim the remainder of our time. We live with a perpetual desire for rest.

Doubtless, it’s a feeling with which Moses could empathize. Leading a nation out of slavery, he bore the burden of mediating God’s will to a people more inclined to grumble and rebel than joyfully follow. Yet amid these trials, God made him a promise: to give him rest.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this passage is the context for this promise. Just half a sentence before, God promised to “go before” Moses, showing him the way. The rest promised is not a rest of inaction, but rest in the midst of action. It is the abiding peace of knowing that God will bear Moses’ burdens even as he faithfully follows God’s lead.

A few thousand years later, that promise still holds true for us. While our daily routines may seem like unending to-do lists, God has promised to go before us… and give us rest.

Anna C. Gheen, MDiv/MACEF Year 3

March 12, 2019

Luke 11:9-13

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek and your will find; knock and the door will be opened.”

———

I’m not a fan of kataphatic prayer. Kataphatic prayer involves images, words, asking—but I’m often too afraid to ask God for what I want. I’m a little faithless about it. What if I go to God, persistent and vulnerable, and God lets me down?

Yet one thing I love about kataphatic prayer is that it draws me toward community. Every Sunday as I lead prayers at church and listen to my brothers and sisters, I am filled with awe and compassion at the brokenness, sorrow, rejoicing, and hope—commingled in communal prayer. It makes me realize that when Jesus is teaching the disciples how to pray, he’s not just teaching them about persistence, he’s teaching us about how to bare our souls together.

Have you ever sat beside someone who, in faithful listening and downright persistence, draws out the desires of your heart and helps you find a way despite your lack of faith? Just prior to this command to “seek, knock, and find” in scripture, Jesus tells us to be like the person who hounds his friend in need for bread even after that friend has gone to bed. But I have also found God to be present in those who nourish, lending a little faith when faith is faint—the God who passionately pursues us before we’ve even thought to ask.

Erin Raffety, Lecturer of Youth, Church, and Culture

March 13, 2019

Exodus 20:1-18 “Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy.”

———

The more I meditate on the Ten Commandments, the more two things stick out to me. First, God makes Godself known by faithful actions in the past: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt . . .” And second, at the fulcrum of the Ten Commandments is a God of divine rest, who decrees that God’s people will also be defined by rest. Out of such rest will come the love and neighborliness that Israel must practice; every other starting point is errant by default.

As I transition into seminary life, I find that these two things—a God remembered throughout my personal history, and who acts out of creative rest—are both easily forgotten and absolutely imperative. I forget that the God who has been faithful in my past will be faithful again. I forget that to be made in God’s image is to be made in and out of restfulness. And I doubt I’m alone in my forgetting. As we meditate together this Lenten season, I wonder how we might not merely remind each other of God’s faithfulness, but be for each other God’s faithfulness in our lives—not simply encourage each other to rest but be restfulness for one another. Surely if such a thing is possible, and necessary, anywhere, it is here.

Rachel Rim, MDiv Junior

March 14, 2019

Revelation 11:15-19

“Then God’s temple in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant was seen within the temple, and there were flashes of lightening, rumblings, peals of thunder, and earthquake, and heavy hail.”

———

Our God Reigns! The God whose kingdom is coming will sit on the throne as ruler over all. This is part of our hope for the “coming kingdom.” It is literally in the words—God is coming to be KING. But this reign will not be separate or hidden from us. The place where God dwells will not only be open to us but will be with us. This is the fulfillment of Jesus’ incarnation. God will dwell among us.

Our king will not just reign over us but will live with us. We have a king that can be approached and accessed. Our relationship with God goes both ways. Not only should we be open to God, but here we see that God is open to us. May we approach the throne with boldness and gratitude, because our God and our King dwells with us and is open to us.

God, we approach You on Your throne. We are grateful that it is You who reigns above all. In a world where we feel that those in power ignore the pain, discontent, and suffering of those they hold power over, we are grateful that You dwell with us and make Yourself open to hear our cries. We yearn for Your kingdom to come. Come and be our KING! Amen.

Alisa Hovagimian Unell, MDiv Middler

March 15, 2019

John 1:35-43 “Follow me.”

———

My hands were shaking as I pulled my two small suitcases behind me. I was traveling to an unfamiliar place: Princeton, New Jersey. “God called you here,” I reminded myself. Why? Where was I going?

“Come and see.” So I followed, my footsteps blind and clumsy, my heart trusting yet unsure.

The disciples must have wondered where they were going. They were busy at work when Jesus called them. They must have had countless questions for Jesus: “Excuse me, Jesus? Are we there yet? What are we doing? Where are we staying?” “Follow me.”

Little did they know what awaited—this divine interruption would transform their lives. Perhaps we are met with divine interruptions in the daily rhythms of our lives—maybe it is a seemingly serendipitous conversation or a change in plans. We might follow Jesus to places that are inconvenient, messy, or broken. “Come and see,” Jesus says. Will we still follow?

God, when you beckon us to the unknown with your curious words, “Come and see,” give us courage.

Open our eyes to see where you are staying. Sustain us as we follow you. You are God-with-us, and we never go this journey alone. Amen.

Gabrielle Bowman, MDiv Middler

March 16, 2019

Genesis 9:8-17

“This is the sign of the covenant that I make between you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations: I have set my bow in the clouds.”

———

In this passage, God speaks audibly to Noah of a covenant between God and all living creatures, yet the sign God sets as a reminder of this promise is a rainbow—colors, not words. God speaks not just to the parts of us that are bound up in language and custom but also to the parts of ourselves that feel and know and wonder beyond words. As important as words are to me, my experience of the way God speaks in my life is more rainbow-like—expansive, surprising, sometimes bright and sometimes muted. Sometimes God’s way of speaking reaches our awareness during (or perhaps after) a dark and turbulent period, like a “bow in the clouds” after a storm. The clouds are still there but so is the reminder of God’s presence. Isn’t it amazing that the rainbow is as much a reminder to God as it is a reminder to us? It’s like a friend who chooses to be with us on a journey says simply by their presence,, “I am with you; we belong to each other.” This is how God speaks to us. Maybe, when we allow God’s light to shine through us, it casts a rainbow and we speak in that divine way to God. Virginia Dearborn, Discovery and Web Services Librarian

Children’s Drawings Hosford, Pryor, and Carolyn Roberts

March 17, 2019

Matthew 22:34-40 “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind…

You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

———

In today’s world of non-stop “communication,” we are constantly being bombarded by messages. “I can’t understand her tweet!” “What does that emoji even mean?” If we feel overwhelmed by these complicated messages, imagine how Jews in Jesus’s time felt with the hundreds of laws they had to follow.

Communication with God doesn’t have to be complicated.

Jesus replaced those complicated laws and confusing messages.

Jesus summarizes the Old Testament laws into two simple, yet powerful commandments. Love God with all of your heart, soul, and mind; and love your neighbor as yourself. Isn’t that the best news ever! It is like taking your busy inbox, selecting all, and hitting delete. All the noise and confusion disappears.

Yes Jesus, I can follow your commandments! I can love you with everything that I have and inevitably love everyone as you love me. I will see the person on the other side of the political aisle from me with the same eyes with which you see me, and I will treat them with respect. I will have patience with the angry drivers and love the homeless man on the corner, seeing him as an equal.

Dear God, I pray I will listen to those beautiful, simple words that your Son spoke many years ago. When I communicate today, help me to give love as my message. Amen.

Becca and Madison Roberts, MDiv Junior

March 18, 2019

2 Peter 1:16-21

“We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.”

———

If you have ever watched a murder mystery or action film, then you know that a hitman’s job is to kill witnesses because the witness is a key element in developing the story.

Likewise, your witness is a powerful part of developing the story of God’s glory. Your ups, downs, and tribulations will minister to someone. You have experienced God truly, not as a result of “cleverly devised stories”(v 16). No one can tell your story like you can. There is something unique about your journey. Peter allowed Jesus’s death to kill his witness and he denied Christ three times. Someone needs to hear your story today. Forbid anything from being a hitman to your eye-witness. Many people will come to know God better through your sharing some of what God has done, even if there are not enough hours in the day to tell it all.

Be eyewitnesses to the Lord’s majesty. Reject the shame and guilt of your past like Peter did. Peter ultimately became the rock of Christ’s church. Do not let your history silence your destiny. Be strengthened by the reminder of your power as a living testimony to God’s transformative grace.

Desiree McCray, MDiv Junior

March 19, 2019

John 10:22-30

“My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”

———

I sometimes find myself like those gathered around Jesus, asking him to make his teaching plain.

However, it is not Jesus who lacked clarity; it is the church. We’ve too often gotten caught up in defining who is in and who is out and failed to hear Jesus’ call. He has come to free the oppressed, tend to the poor, and uplift the marginalized.

Throughout Scripture, God makes it clear that God’s covenant is one founded in love and grace. There is a rainbow promise.

God parts the seas and frees Israel from bondage. Prophets are sent to call the people back to right worship—to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God. Mary’s song cries out of the upending of society and the salvation God offers. Jesus ascends to the cross and descends to the grave. Women wait at the empty tomb witnessing Jesus’ victory over evil and death.

There is a vision of the new heaven and the new earth where there will be the healing of the nations.

Yes, God has already made it plain. Jesus came to offer good news that really is good.

How do I respond? How do we respond? We too can make it plain in our words and our actions—God loves the world.

Len Turner Scales, Spouse

March 20, 2019

Matthew 6:25-34 “Do not worry about tomorrow.”

———

How many of us have heard Matthew 6 sermons that include a line like, “When Jesus says, ‘You cannot serve God and wealth,’ he doesn’t mean that wealth is a problem—it depends on how you use it”? Jesus does not say this; he says you cannot serve two masters. Full stop. While I do not deny that Godfearing Christians can steward wealth well, I am convicted today because I see that I often find comfort in my material possessions. Whenever I do this, I ignore the hope that Jesus gives us when we abandon ourselves to him: “Do not be worried about your life… nor for your body” (Matt 6:25). When we serve a master other than God, our only option is to worry. In these moments, we doubt that his infinite grace has saved us from our sin. But Jesus Christ lived out his command when he “humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8). Jesus worried about neither his life nor his body. He knew of the Father’s abundance. In the words of Stanley Hauerwas, “Abundance, not scarcity is the mark of God’s care for creation.”

Let us follow in Christ’s footsteps, not worrying about ourselves or tomorrow but laying our lives down our lives for God and his people.

Eric N. Fung, MDiv Junior

March 21, 2019

Genesis 17:1-9

“No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you the ancestor of a multitude of nations.”

———

God declares to Abraham the crucial role he will play in God’s plans for the salvation of the world. In response, Abraham hurls himself to the ground and remains completely silent. We could interpret his posture as reverential, but I prefer to see in Abraham’s prostration evidence of someone who is completely overwhelmed by God’s expectations. I can relate to this feeling.

Sometimes in Scripture divine proclamation is humbly received and faithfully affirmed by the recipient. Mary the mother of Jesus replies to Gabriel’s annunciation with preternatural grace and composure. I know people who respond to God’s call with the dignified poise of Mary, and I admire them. But I cannot relate to them.

In my own life I have found myself falling on my face when I sense the call of God. I feel paralyzed by the notion that God would ask me to be somebody or do something that makes a difference in the world. I just want to keep laying there on the ground in the hope that God will move on to someone else.

But just as Abraham eventually gets up and continues on his journey with God, so we must do the same. Not because we cease to have doubts but because the God who calls us also gives us the faith we need to get up and keep moving.

Shane Berg, Executive Vice President

March 22, 2019

John 7:37-39

“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.”

———

Jesus is the source of living water for a world that is dying of thirst. The festival during which Jesus spoke these words anticipated the day when living waters would flow from Jerusalem to fill the ends of the earth (Zech 14). These living waters come when Jesus is hung upon the cross and water and blood flow from his wounded side. Jesus said, “Let the one who believes in me drink.”

This water and blood is the same water and blood which we drink in our communion chalice. We call this Holy Communion. It is a way of communicating—or being united—with Christ. But these living waters are not only for us: “let anyone who is thirsty come to me.” The traditional Latin name for the communion service is the missa. This comes from the final words of the service: ite missa est (go, the Church is sent). This means that an integral part of our communion with Christ is being sent out into the world. The water and blood which flows from Christ’s wounded side carries us out into the world. We are united with Christ so that we may in turn be united with the world. We are united with the world so that one day, all may come to drink from this one cup of living water.

Eric Tuttle, MDiv Senior

March 23, 2019

Isaiah 6:8-9

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?’”

———

On a bright Saturday morning on April 1, 2017, I watched as a robust and promising 13-year-old girl succeeded in a suicide attempt. I listened as her mother groaned in a way that compelled all present to join in this heart-wrenching ritual. I could feel her pain bottling up like a fireball forcing its way out of her being as she sprawled on the ground reaching for what she could no longer hold. It was in this state of unspeakable grief that I read for the first time the words from PTS: “Congratulations! You have been accepted into candidacy….” In the days to come, my mind constantly wondered about the massive change both our lives would assume.

Like Isaiah, we had both been called into a future we knew harbored painful realities. While she endures an empty nest without her beloved daughter, I wrestle with the realities of a society in which people who look like me are treated unfairly.

In many ways, to ask, “Who will go for us?” is also to ask “Who will come to us?” Who will come for me when what I know and love is no more? Who will come for me when home is no longer just around the corner? This is an all too familiar cry for black and brown bodies, victims of gun violence and Christians in persecuted regions. We cannot go for God unless we come to those for whom God died for. Consider answering God’s call to come to someone today.

Ruth Vida Amwe, MATS Senior

The Sycamore Tree

Emma Warman, MDiv Junior, Watercolor on Paper

March 24, 2019

Psalm 29

“The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders...“ ———

We all can think of someone who seems to have only one speaking volume: loud. This is a person who just isn’t adept at differentiating between their “inside” and “outside” voices. As a quiet person myself, perhaps I am overly sensitive to loud things around me. They draw too much attention and can make me feel uncomfortable.

In Psalm 29, there is no denying that the voice of the Lord is loud. It is a voice over the rushing waters and in the thunder. God’s voice breaks cedar trees and makes the ground shake. The voice of the Lord is a wind that causes oaks to whirl and strips forests bare. It is a powerful voice that offers both strength and peace.

While I tend to gravitate toward waiting in silence for the “still small voice,” maybe in this season of Lent I need to be made uncomfortable. Maybe we all do. Maybe we need to draw more attention to the voice of the Lord that “flashes forth in flames of fire.”

A voice that cannot be missed.

A voice that is overwhelming.

A voice that changes everything within hearing distance.

A voice that should cause us all to take a step back and say, “Glory!”

Melissa D. Haupt, Program and Publications Manager, Chapel Office

March 25, 2019

Luke 15:1-7

“Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.”

———

A 3-year-old girl asked me where she can buy a sheep. I asked her why she needs one. She said she needs to buy a sheep for God because her prayer was answered, and she knows that sheep would make God happy as portrayed in the parable of the lost sheep. Indeed. The shepherd rejoices over the lost sheep once it is found. In fact, the joy of the shepherd who sought and found the lost sheep is profound, even to the extent of gathering a large group of people for a great celebration.

Even though we were once lost and found as Christ died for us while we still were sinners (Rom 5:8), we often think of ourselves as the ninety-nine sheep. However, we Christians sometimes, or even often, feel lost in our lives, like God is nowhere near us. There are moments when we feel lost, alone, and helpless. There are also moments when we have gone astray and turned away from God. To make the situation worse, there are moments when we do not have the strength to find a way back to God. In moments like these, we don’t need to worry because it is God who comes looking for us and takes us back and rejoices over us.

Sarah Chae, PhD Candidate

March 26, 2019

Psalm 118:1-9

“Out of my distress I called on the Lord; and the Lord answered me and set me in a broad place.”

———

At times in my life, I cried to the Lord “out of my distress.” Each time I was a blubbering mess in a state of anguish because, essentially, I felt threatened. There was something attempting to choke the life out of my hopes, dreams, and plans. Once it was a stifling fear, another time I didn’t handle a life transition well, and other times there were circumstances that seemed to suffocate my soul.

In each case, I felt stuck. There was no room for my imagination—my vision and ideas were too big for my limited time, resources, and lifestyle. In one of my frustrated and pitiful moments, I remember feeling like there was a cruel joke being played on me. But there wasn’t. The temptation was to linger in a state of regret over missed opportunities or be convinced there was no pathway to moving forward.

I thank God for grace. God’s Word was the pathway to my “broad place.” In all of God’s sovereignty, God still listens to us when we call out—and God responds! God was teaching me to be patient, enjoy the journey and trust God to redeem the time. I first learned to experience joy in my existing circumstances. As I experienced freedom just where I was, God began to open new doors that allowed my spirit to dance.

Nicole Pride, Associate Director of Editorial Content, Communication Department

March 27, 2019

Matthew 28:16-20

“And Jesus said, ‘And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’”

———

“Therefore go.” As a high schooler, I swore that I would get these words from today’s text tattooed on my body. I was excited and energized, ready to serve God in the world. I entered seminary with that same gusto. But by the time I hit my second semester, I lost that energy. I suffered a deep personal loss and I found myself wondering if I could go forward with this call.

Navigating loss and grief and searching for something different, I went with a friend to mass on the first Sunday of Lent. I can’t tell you what the sermon was about or what we sang, but sitting in the pew, staring at the bleeding, wounded crucifix at the front of the sanctuary, I realized that Jesus was with me. Tattooed on his body, cut into his flesh, is the message we read in the last verse of today’s text: “and surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Jesus was and is with me even in the depth and darkness of my pain.

Today’s text reminds us that God speaks to us not only in the calls, the commissions, and the commands but in words of comfort and reassurance. And this comfort and reassurance is not simply a sweet nicety like those written in greeting cards—this comfort is a Word etched in human flesh: God is, was, and will always be with us.

Melissa A. Martin, Recruitment Associate, Admissions & Financial Aid

March 28, 2019

Isaiah 49:15-16

“See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.”

———

In this season of Lent we reflect on the sacrifice Jesus willingly gave at the cross.

As proclaimers of the Gospel and as theological scholars, it is easy to forget the personal significance of the cross. We either get so caught up in hashing out the correct wording of what happened, or we focus on pouring ourselves out for the good of others. We often forget about ourselves. We forget about self care and about building that relationship with the God who sacrificed all for us.

The beauty of the scripture today is that even if we forget to consider ourselves, God does not.

Like a mother with her child, God will not forget us. Who could forget their child, whom they bore and raised? Our strongest earthly conception of intimate bond, a mother and child, still pales in comparison to our God’s love for us. And it is not just a general platitude, but God’s radically profound, deep knowledge and love for each of us.

God will not forget you. You are written on God’s hands. Even if we are too busy theologizing or serving others to think about our unique relationship with God, our God knows you and sees you.

Spend some time with God today. Not for class or field ed. For you and God. Jerusha Ruth Turner, MDiv Senior

March 29, 2019

Luke 6:32-38

“Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned.

Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”

———

At an elder retreat in Princeton years ago, one of my colleagues expressed concern over Scripture that suggests God’s forgiveness might be conditional. He cited the potential catch in Jesus’s instructions in Matthew on how to pray: Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. My friend asked if this meant that God’s forgiveness of each of us might be contingent upon our first forgiving those who have done us wrong.

The assigned verses for today also suggest a similar catch. Jesus is clear in his instruction of what we are not to do and what we are to do. He is also clear in his promise to us and his covenant with us.

Each time I say the Lord’s Prayer, I try to ask myself, who do I still have to forgive? I must confess, when I imagine the way I pray God forgives me, a way of completeness and unbounded love and grace, I hear a voice that calls out a person or two to me to think about. I believe that is God speaking to me to say that with one or two people, forgiveness is still a work-in-process.

I also hear that same voice telling me that in letting go of judgment and condemnation of others and embracing complete, unbounded forgiveness we find the freedom of the promise.

Amy Woods Brinkley, Trustee

March 30, 2019

Genesis 1:1-5 “Let there be light.”

———

Into the void of nothingness spoke a voice. Nothing became something, and that something was good. Let there be light. That first something from the nothing was light. It was a light of warmth, guidance, and revelation. Into the void Creator God shone a light that was one of peace and love and wholeness. Let there be light.

The initial light of God’s Creation was such because it is such. There has yet to be placed a period at the end of the Divine’s first sentence. Let there be light. Within the Creator’s design, through the Redeemer’s resurrection, and amidst the Sustainer’s work there shines the light that is God’s first word. It shines no longer into a void of nothingness but rather, today, into one of hatred and murder, abuse and neglect, fear and pain, ignorance and iniquity. Let there be light.

The light itself is not God but rather a word of and a shining forth from God. It is warmth in the cold, clarity in the obscurity, guidance in the darkness. It is a stewarding of the earth. It is a loving of one’s neighbor. It is a freeing of the oppressed. Let there be light. It is a light that dwells within us, awaiting our sharing of it. God’s first command is thus ours for today: Let there be light, indeed!

Joey Dearduff, MDiv Junior

Give it to God Vincent Bush, Spouse, Graphic Art

March 31, 2019

Mark 11:24-25

“When you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone; so that your Father in heaven may also forgive you your trespasses.”

———

Prayer is most commonly used as a medium for supplication or petition towards God. We bring our requests and pleas to an omnipotent Being who is far more capable to accomplish deeds that human beings are not able to accomplish. Normally, when we think of prayer, we think of petitions and requests. What if prayer can be utilized as another powerful medium for us to better understand one another?

Reading through Matthew 5:43 (cross-reference to Mark 11:25), Eric Liddell—an Olympic Gold Medalist runner—experienced the transformative power which prayers carry. He said that prayer did not change the person that he hated but praying for those whom he hated changed and transformed his life in a radical fashion. Liddell realized the greater call of prayer—to pray and love those who have trespassed against him.

Mark challenges its readers that prayer should go beyond petitions and requests. Prayer can also be used as a way to forgive and to love. Jesus reminds us of the Father’s love for us by commanding us to forgive, love, and pray for those who have trespassed against us. This is one of the many significances of the prayer which the Son taught us that we recite each Sunday.

Raddhitya (Brad) Badudu, MATS Junior

April 1, 2019

Psalm 46

“Be still and know that I am God.” ———

My job in the community is to make noise and to help others make noise, too. Hopefully a beautiful noise. A joyful noise. I love what I do. I help people to cry out to God, to thank God, to praise God, to vocally wonder about God. In the music of our community, in the resonance of our chapel, I hear echoes of the voice of God. But often I hear God most clearly in the stillness after all this sound. I sometimes linger in the sanctuary after the congregation has dispersed. In the void, God speaks to me.

In one episode of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, to the astonishment of his camera crew, Fred Rogers invited the children of his television audience to watch, in silence, as a kitchen timer ticked down 60 seconds. Can you imagine that? What do you think the children heard? What might you hear if you allowed yourself such stillness?

Throughout scripture we are exhorted to be still, to find a quiet place, to wait for God in silence. God speaks in times and places of stillness. So take a walk by the canal or in the Institute Woods.

(Leave the ear buds at home.) After the preaching and singing and blessing, linger in the chapel. Listen. If it helps, set a timer.

Be still. Know that God is.

Martin Tel, Director of Music

April 2, 2019

John 14:1-7

“Jesus said, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life.’”

———

Shelter, warmth, protection, rest. These are the ancient and enduring images of home inscribed on the human soul. Even when our experiences of home are deeply pained, or broken, we retain an image of true home that no suffering or trauma can eradicate; the home of unassailable wholeness, in “the bosom of the father.” It is from there that Christ comes to us, seeking shelter amid humanity in human form. But “his own did not receive him,” and laying down his life for others, he returned to the heavenly dwelling. And yet, in relinquishing his place among us, he forged a home in us, and made the way clear for them that seek it: receive him while he is yet absent; live by his spirit which is yet present. Time and space have collapsed. The home of the future, the home of heaven, is made now, every day, here, in the way of Christ. We who believe, and give, and love, and live are the homemakers of the kingdom: homemakers in Christ’s image. Christ’s Spirit, dwelling in us, dwells in the world still.

Making room in our bosoms, he makes the rooms of warmth and sanctuary for others. Christ is the way to the father, and the way home runs through us. Our hearts and homes are the antechambers of heaven. Make room! He comes!

Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski, PhD Candidate

April 3, 2019

Jeremiah 29:11-13

“For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”

———

This passage wasn’t written to us. We aren’t ancient Israel.

We aren’t exiles from Jerusalem. And we aren’t hoping for deliverance from Babylon. But this passage was written for us.

For in the same way the exiles heard the promise from God, we, too, today are able to hear the same promise: the LORD plans to give us a future with hope.

Yet what does it mean to hold on to this promise? For our passage has two words we tend to be deeply uncomfortable with: future and hope. The future tends to be so unseen, so beyond our peripheral. And hope? Well, hope can only be hope when something is outside of your control.

But the words written for us today reminds us of the God who has fulfilled the promises of the past and will also fulfill the promises of today. God continues to speak to us today, that through our faith, we may find everlasting life. And yes, this requires us to remember, that our future and our hope is found in our God. Isn’t it comforting to know that our God has already promised plans for us that are beyond our imagination? These plans are for our welfare and not for harm. Today, how will you practice remembering God’s promises for you?

Alex Gamaliel Evangelista, MDiv Senior

April 4, 2019

Revelation 14:1-5

“And I heard a voice from heaven like the sound of many waters and like the sound of loud thunder; the voice I heard was like the sound of harpists playing on their harps.”

———

Last summer, at the foot of the Bavarian Alps, I sat in the car through one of the most horrifying storms for what felt like hours. It was pouring rain and every time I wanted to escape to run in to the house, lightning would strike and the thunder rumbled. I finally relented and decided my futile attempts to escape the storm were to no avail. As I sat still gazing outside, I was captivated by both fear and wonder.

I would imagine that if we were to hear God’s powerful and majestic voice, it would incite the same reaction—fear and wonder. We are not paralyzed by a crippling fear, but the fear of God that inspires wonder for how mighty and powerful God is. The kind that leads to wisdom. The same kind of fear and wonder we had when we first understood the redemptive work done on the Cross for us. The kind that led Jesus’ disciples to follow him and worship him. Although we may never hear God’s audible voice on this side of heaven, God unrelentingly speaks to the “depths of our own inner silence” as Frederick Buechner writes; if we are willing to sit still in the midst of storm and let Him.

Deborah Jinju Kwak, MDiv Senior

April 5, 2019

Mark 10:13-16 “Let the little children come to me…”

———

In the spirit of Mark 10:13–16, we turn to see how God speaks through the voices of our children. We asked this question: “If you could meet God in person, what would you ask or say to God?” “Where did you come from before making the world?” (age 10) “What does heaven look like?” (age 5) “Why did you make us?” (age 7) “How did you make our dog?” (age 5) “Do you know who created racism?” (age 10) “If you are all-mighty, why do politicians keep yelling at each other and can’t get along?” (age 7) “Where did the cross come from?” (age 5) “If you are so powerful, why do bad things keep happening… things like wars starting and school shootings?” (age 11) “Please help me to be good.” (age 5) If you could meet God in person, what would you ask or say to God?

Children in our PTS Community

April 6, 2019

Acts 2:1-4

“And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind…all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit.”

———

Beginning a conversation can sometimes feel uncomfortable and difficult in the various social settings of my everyday life.

Whether it’s talking to someone sitting next to me at church that I’ve never met, or attempting to create small talk with an acquaintance or friend I have not seen in a while, beginning a conversation can be daunting. If you are anything like me, you’ve had many opportunities to say hi and catch up with that one person whom you purposefully hid in the back from so that you would not have to begin a conversation that may lead to unwanted or awkward feelings.

“Suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house.” This sound would be the power and confidence that enabled these believers to do the amazing acts that would come next. This sound gave the ability to speak to others who were different in class, culture, and socioeconomic background. It gave the heart and mind to go out in boldness without hesitation. As we reflect on this scripture it is my prayer that we too would allow the spirit to be our sound in the moments we lack the words to speak boldly and confidently, especially when it comes to our faith.

Freddy Sanchez, MDiv Junior

God Speaks through the Neighbor Emma Warman, MDiv Junior, Watercolor on Paper

April 7, 2019

Isaiah 41:10-13

“For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, “Do not fear, I will help you.”

———

If I had to choose only one verse to carry with me for the rest of my life, this would be it. I remember being about twelve years old, flipping through my deteriorating Bible filled with many drawings and notes in the margins, and finding this verse. I felt I had made some kind of fantastic discovery as I considered the image of this verse. What could be more comforting than God’s own hand holding mine?

Not long ago I was hurt by someone’s hand. Not as much physically as emotionally, but still my heart and trust in other people was wounded. For quite some time, I was fearful of physical touch and felt that any extended hand could be reaching out not to love but to harm. As someone who typically loves hugs and firm handshakes, this deeply hurt me.

It was not too long thereafter, though, after a time of feeling somewhat separated from God that I felt the words of Isaiah 41:13 speaking to me once again. Hearing these words spoken from God reminded me that hands are most definitely good as the greatest comforter of all extends to each one of us: A hand that comforts us.

A hand that holds us.

A hand that loves us.

A hand that redeems us.

A hand of peace.

Audrey Webber, MDiv Senior

April 8, 2019

1 Kings 19:9-12 “After the fire, a sound of sheer silence.”

———

“Be still and know that I am God,” writes the Psalmist. In our 24/7 world, rarely am I still for very long. Continuous partial attention (CPA) is paying simultaneous attention to a number of sources of incoming information, but at a superficial level. It leads to FOMO—the “fear of missing out.”

Superficial attention is incapable of granting access to the mysteries of God. Some think silence is empty; yet, “Silence is rich,” the Benedictine monk reminds us. One must “unplug” in order to listen for God’s voice in the midst of all the noise around us. Often, it’s the early morning, when I am somewhere between sleeping and waking, when I am quiet and have the least agenda that I’m also the most open and receptive. It was the “sound of sheer silence” that finally led Elijah to emerge from his cave of self-pity.

God can speak anywhere, at anytime, but I seem most receptive when I am least distracted. We look for God in the extraordinary, expecting earth-shaking revelations, but in my experience God speaks and acts in more ordinary, unexpected ways. So pay special attention to the spaces between this Lent, between waking and sleeping, when you’re in the car, or walking to and from the library.

Turn off your stereo or headphones and allow the quiet to envelope you. You just may hear more than silence.

Rev. Jeffrey V. O’Grady, Chair of the Board of Trustees

April 9, 2019

Mark 8:34-37

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

———

The church tends to sentimentalize Jesus’ invitation to take up one’s cross and follow. We sing gentle songs with the lights dimmed: “I have decided to follow Jesus…” or “Where you go, I’ll go…” or “Yes is the answer; what’s the question gonna be?”

I do not mean to diminish the genuine devotion found in this sentiment, nor do I want to dismiss the power of singing, praying, and acting on it. Following Jesus brings joy and life—we should celebrate that. But we do ourselves a disservice if we ignore the hardship that happens when the pursuit conflicts with our comfort. Every now and then, it is necessary to remind ourselves of the difficulty inherent in the taking up of one’s cross. The cross to which Jesus points in this verse was, after all, a tool of execution.

The Lenten practice of self-denial provides us an opportunity to engage in the work of self-denial on several levels: material, spiritual, emotional. But the necessity of the work extends beyond the glory of Easter morning. Let us lean into this season in which we are given space for self-evaluation, meditation, prayer, and formation. But let us also commit ourselves to modeling Christ in a spirit of consistent self-denial, for the sake of the neighbor, sibling, and enemy; for the pursuit of justice in our communities; and ultimately, for the glory of God. Brooks Hanrahan, MDiv Senior

April 10, 2019

Psalm 147:1-11

“God determines the number of the stars; and gives to all of them their names.”

———

An episode of a reality television show featured an active NFL player and his rather large immediate family. It was revealed that he was expecting his fourteenth child, a truth that is somewhat countercultural in these contemporary times. Such a profound commitment to family engendered feelings of admiration and awe among the program’s viewers. This celebratory moment would be short-lived, however, as a result of a probing question posed by another cast member. The gentleman was asked to recite the names of each of his children. Needless to say, this opportunity to showcase a father’s love was squandered in a most humiliating fashion.

The psalmist’s use of imagery is effective in that he displays one of the many ways in which our heavenly father sits in a class all his own. He submits, “He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name (v 4).” His sovereignty is realized not only in his ability to create, but in his propensity to love, which compels him to foster an intimate connection with each of his image-bearers. This psalm assures me that my God is cognizant of my welfare and attentive to my needs, grievances, dreams, and aspirations. He is responsible for endowing me with gifts, personality, purpose, and, above all, eternal life.

Rev. Justin D. Henderson, MDiv Senior

April 11, 2019

Isaiah 43:1, 4

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”

———

We prepared, we looked forward to it; but, when I boarded the aircraft to leave my family for a nine months ThM course at the overseas Princeton Theological Seminary, I realized that those preparations were not enough. Watching them wave me off from the viewing balcony of the airport was beyond what I could bear. Suddenly, my heart bled, and tears rolled down. Then, people in the seminary were so kind and caring, which made the hard times eventually pass by. Life went smoothly until the night, when my wife texted me that the ultrasound investigation diagnosed two kidney stones in my eight-year-old daughter’s right kidney. In shock, I got down on my knees and looked to God. I could find no appropriate words to lament my grief, there were no words to pray, and I was not sure if I could go on anymore. Nevertheless, God still heard my cry even in my silence and comforted me with a promise that we won’t drown even if the sea roars in front of us, for our creator and our redeemer, God, is with us. We are called by name and claimed by God. And we are safe for God cares for God’s people. Isn’t it amazing that even when we are quiet, God still hears our heart.

Samuel Lalmuanpuia Pachuau, ThM

April 12, 2019

Acts 11:1-11

“But a second time the voice answered from heaven, ‘What God has made clean, you must not call profane.’”

———

Acts is full of surprises. Jesus promises to send the Holy Spirit, but the proliferation of languages at Pentecost is the dazzling result. The church assigns its first deacons to wait on tables, to make sure everyone is fed equitably. Surprisingly, we find Stephen and Philip doing even more than this vital work. They amaze with signs and wonders.

So too, God’s embracing of Gentiles comes as a surprise to Peter, who needs a threefold vision to help him realize that he could no longer call “profane” whomever “God has made clean.”

The God of Acts surprises by extending grace beyond the imaginations of Jesus’ earliest followers.

The Spirit meets an Ethiopian eunuch. The Spirit falls upon Cornelius, even his family and friends.

In retrospect, the surprises of Acts are not all that surprising. After all, we know the end of the story.

But what if God is not done surprising us? What if God’s grace, its liberality, its extravagance, is still shocking us? What if we are not ready when God’s Spirit dawns upon those we assumed were beyond the bounds of belonging we had erected around my community, my people?

Acts is full of surprises. Perhaps the greatest surprise of all is that we are still amazed when God’s expansive grace continues to make kin of us all.

Eric D. Barreto, Weyerhaeuser Associate Professor of New Testament

April 13, 2019

Psalm 121 “I lift up my eyes to the hills...”

———

Is there a way out?

Worn out and feeble, I’m stumbling on the edge of my endurance, weakened by an ongoing torment in my thoughts.

Backward—I see not; forward—I dare not…

Alone I stand, firmly entrapped between the stiff cliffs made of illusions, as my confidence cowardly abandons me in betrayal.

Whither shall I go?

Shattered, I’m trying to shake off the insecurities and the iron weights of uncertainty that are wrapped around me in a heavy grip...cold and merciless, they leave marks on my skin, scarring not only the flesh but wounding much more deeply and profoundly.

Is there a path that skillfully resists the obstacles raised by all the unanswered questions and utmost helplessness submerged in the ever moving whirlwind of my thoughts?! A narrow corridor that will finally quench all the fragile aspirations of mine?

I look up to You. Suddenly, the strings of my soul that once used to be broken and mute are starting to give out a sound—at first hardly audible and timid, yet familiar… the sound that is there only when You, oh Creator, run across the strings of my soul with your fiddle bow. I wander no longer, I fear not, I stumble not! For You see me.

There’s a silhouette in the distance. I shiver… in surrender.

Emina Stevanovic, ThM

Teach Us

Audrey Webber, MDiv Senior, Pen on Paper

April 14, 2019

Luke 19:28-40

“I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.”

———

I think I’d prefer the witness of stones over the witness of my Christian siblings. Stones are objective and non-partisan. If my morning walk was interrupted by a little pebble shouting at me about Jesus the King, I might be disturbed and skeptical, but at least I’d be confident that I wasn’t being manipulated.

Humans just keep getting Jesus so tragically wrong. Surely the crowd of disciples who praised God as Jesus entered Jerusalem, calling him “the king”, were not imagining his lifeless, wrecked body hanging from a cross. That is not good material for hopeful political imagination.

As under-informed as the crowd may have been, the Pharisees who demanded that Jesus hush his followers were also mistaken.

“Teacher, order your disciples to stop?” (v 39) As if the disciples weren’t responding to Jesus in the only appropriate way? As if praising the one who came to set the captives free wasn’t worth the risk of an uprising?

No one in this story, aside from Jesus himself, fully grasped him. We, too, are more prone to appropriate manipulative caricatures of Jesus than to understand him. In this moment, I wonder what silence might do for us. I wonder what the stones might say.

Micah Cronin, MDiv Middler

Tonalist Landscape

Woodie Webber, Spouse, Oil Paint on Canvas

April 15, 2019

John 12:20-26

“Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

———

Years ago, I went to Moldova to work with local Deaf ministry leaders. One evening, we went to a Deaf community gathering and distributed fliers for an event at a local Deaf church. A group of Deaf men walked up and a tall, serious-looking man, who seemed to be the leader, asked me, “Do you believe in God?” I replied, “Yes. Do you?” He laughed and said, “It’s easy for you Americans to say that God is real because you have everything, while here we have nothing.” Not knowing what to say, I stood in silence while they walked away. Later, I realized that while interacting with one of the most impoverished groups of people in the poorest European country, I failed to ask what Gustavo Gutiérrez asks: “How to proclaim the God of life to people who suffer premature and unjust death?” Thus, when we preach the words, “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life,” we must remember those who have no life to lose because their life has already been taken away. To those who have life, we say, “Lose it and find life in Christ!” To those whose life has been taken away, we say, “Jesus’ life has been taken away too, he is one of you.”

Noah Buchholz, PhD Student

Reclaiming My Name Tamarah Bush, MDiv Junior, Mixed Media on Paper

April 16, 2019

Jeremiah 17:5-10

“Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord.

They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream.”

———

The plight of God’s people has been the same since nearly the beginning—the lack of trust which leads to grasping at control, fear of the unknown, questioning of God’s promises, asking “Where is God now?”, our tendency to “other” people and to “claim what’s mine” at the expense of others. We know this plight well.

This passage is significant to me personally. My name is Tamarah, which in Hebrew means “palm tree.” My parents named me this because I was born during a hard time in our family’s life. My brother had been recently diagnosed with Muscular Dystrophy. To them, my birth felt like an oasis in the midst of a desert.

For much of my life I have gladly taken my name up as a personal mission, thinking myself a care-giver and source of life in dry times. However, in doing so, I have slipped into old ways, thinking that I need to prove my worth, pave my own way as a source for others, but running on empty for myself. I’m coming to find though, that ain’t gonna fly. I believe God is calling me, you, and the whole body of believers to recognize the source from which we operate—to stop thinking we are alone in a desert searching for comfort, and to let those roots run deep to connect to the ultimate source of life we have in God. Tamarah Bush, MDiv Junior

Landscape #1978

Woodie Webber, Spouse, Oil Paint on Canvas

April 17, 2019

John 12:27-36

“While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of the light.”

———

There is something quite amazing, in fact, quite moving about a beautiful sunset. The sun makes its descent over the water, behind a mountain, or through the trees—and all too quickly.

We try to reach out to hold on to it for just a little longer, and before we know it, it is gone.

Similarly, there was this sense of persons holding onto Jesus and not letting him go—to the cross. This sentiment is reflected in the words of the crowd, “We have heard from the law that the Messiah remains forever” (John 12:34). Then, when he’s temporarily gone, through the trial and the death upon the cross, we are tempted to fall into a panic like the disciples— afraid, confused, searching for meaning, possibly even denying that we ever knew the Christ. Nighttime comes upon us, and we might feel overwhelmed by the darkness.

May we be fortified in our journey by cherishing each precious moment that we have living in the Light, believing in the power of the resurrection. The Light binds us together in relationship to one another, and shines through us for all to see. “You are the light of the world…Let your light shine before others” (Matt 5:14, 16).

Dean John White, Dean of Student Life and Vice President for Student Relations

Do This

Audrey Webber, MDiv Senior, Pen on Paper

April 18, 2019

1 Corinthians 11:23-26 “Do this in remembrance of me.”

———

In 11:17–20, Scripture tells us that the house churches in Corinthians occasionally came together for the Lord’s Supper.

While gathering together, there were divisions among them.

Paul rebuked them because they were merely doing common meals, not really having the Lord’s supper. Their self-serving actions obscure the meaning of the Supper. In 11:23–26, Paul reminds us the significance of the Lord’s Supper is more than a common meal.

Tonight, our Lord was “betrayed” (11:23) to the authorities.

In fact, our Lord was handed over to death by God for our trespasses. God gave the Son up for covering our Sin. Tonight, we come together to remember God’s action of deliverance through the death of our Lord Jesus Christ. When we share the broken bread, we remember the body of our Lord broken for us. When we outpour the wine, we remember the blood of our Lord shed for us.

Our Lord suffered and died for us. Tonight, the remembrance is more than a mental exercise, but an act of visible word. We proclaim the death of Jesus Christ our Lord.

This Eucharistic tradition was received from the Lord and handed on to us by the early Christian community. Therefore, do this, so that the memory of Jesus Christ our Lord might be kept alive, until he comes again.

Tak Kin Ho, MDiv Senior

Untitled

Gary Lindgren, Security Officer, Thermal Drawing

April 19, 2019

John 18:1–19:42

“When Jesus had received the wine, he said, ‘It is finished.’”

———

Tetelestai, Jesus said: it is finished. The Word that was in the beginning has indeed come into the world—and loved his own to the end.

Tetelestai, Jesus comforts us: it is over, the night of betrayal and suffering. The failure of human achievement—civilisation, culture, truth, law, religion, power, leadership, public opinion, friendship—is overcome.

Tetelestai, Jesus reassures us: it is completed. Nothing more remains to be done, nothing to earn, add, achieve, deserve— once and for all.

Tetelestai, Jesus shares the mystery: it is accomplished. There was depth to all that happened, purpose, will, a mysterious why.

It had to happen like this. He was handed over by the crowd, the mass, his enemies, followers, friends—yes, but hidden in all of this, he was handed over by his Father. In fact, he himself handed over his spirit into the hands of his and our Father. It was all for our sake.

Tetelestai, Jesus promises: it is fulfilled. It can no longer be overturned. This is the hour for which he came. The cross itself has become his glory, full of grace and truth. He is truly lifted up. Darkness could indeed not overcome the light—and now never will. Jesus’ words bring good news, and therefore, without seeing, with hesitation and doubt, shuddering, we confess and, call this strange day good.

Dirk Smit, Professor of Theology

April 20, 2019

John 18:38-42 “What is truth?”

———

This is the most ironic moment in history. The judge faces the Judge. And with ignorance like that of an Apostle, Pilate looks Truth in the face and asks, “What is truth?” But the resounding “I am” we want to hear is overshadowed by the clang of hammer against nail through flesh. Jesus does not overthrow the praetorium with an army of angels; he whimpers “It is finished” and dies.

This is the quietest day of the year. Jesus has descended into hell and is no longer with us. The disciples have scattered, the veil has torn in two, and the tomb is sealed. It looks as if the message Jesus preached was a deception. Maybe we wonder if Judas was right to betray who he saw as a failed insurrectionist. It couldn’t be... could it?

This silence is shocking. It is godforsaken hopelessness. He who we thought would change the world has been captured and crucified. It’s over. Before you pack your bags and head home, sit here in the moment. Feel fully this heavy emptiness. The passion has happened. Christ has suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried; he descended to the dead.

Mourn the dead Jesus of Nazareth, born of Mary. But between sobs, remember his words: “This sickness will not end in death.

No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it” (John 11:4).

Tom Dearduff, MDiv Senior

Awakening

Vincent Bush, Spouse, Graphic Art

April 21, 2019

John 20:1-18

“Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?

Whom are you looking for?’”

———

This is not your first Easter. You’ve long learned to expect a day of glorious worship adorned with beautiful lilies, brass instruments, and a congregation saying, “He is risen indeed!” several times. The chances are good that the preacher will mention something about the resurrection. Got it. It’s all so familiar.

The first Easter also began with expectations, although the liturgy was quite different. Mary went to the cemetery after Jesus died because it’s always been easier to grieve the dead at the place you buried them. Grief has its familiar routines. But this time things took a surprising turn. Jesus’ tomb was empty, which threw Mary into distress. When she saw a man who looked like the gardener, she asked where he put her beloved dead Jesus. Then the gardener called her by name. “Mary.” It was then that she recognized him as her risen Savior.

What if this Easter you carried your distress to the Sunday services, and didn’t hide it from all the brass instruments? What if you dropped your expectations of Easter long enough to be surprised by the risen Savior calling you by name? And what if he only appears to be something familiar, like a gardener?

If even some of that happened, you would move beyond understanding Easter to experiencing it.

M. Craig Barnes, Seminary President

I Am the Resurrection Audrey Webber, MDiv Senior, Pen on Paper

Princeton Theological Seminary