7 February 2026 - his heart was moved

Today's Readings
(Audio)

The Apostles gathered together with Jesus
and reported all they had done and taught.
He said to them,
“Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while.” 

The Apostles had apparently been very successful in the their attempts to proclaim the kingdom of God after Jesus sent them out to the surrounding regions. But it was still important for them to remain in close fellowship with Jesus. They were not to infer that because things had been working well they could now get by without the intimate relationship that was the basis of their success in the first place. Moreover, they needed to avoid the temptation to constant action, to always only doing with no time for being, in particular being in the presence of Jesus himself.

So they went off in the boat by themselves to a deserted place.
People saw them leaving and many came to know about it.

It may have at first seemed like this plan to get away from the crowds had failed. If so, we might defend Jesus saying that he knew this was going to happen but wanted to help his disciples understand what their priorities ought to be when faced with people in need. Sometimes one had to put others first. No doubt he did want them to see the compassionate nature of his heart in action. But all of that said, Jesus now took center stage, and the disciples now settled into a more passive student mode, trying to internalize the character and wisdom of their master. Compared to what they had been doing in the surrounding regions, this surely must have been more restful. 

People were coming and going in great numbers,
and they had no opportunity even to eat.

Further, Jesus would go on to address the fact that they previously had not had time to eat because of the crowds, as if he had all along planned to do so. Just at the moment when, in their hunger, they might have begun thinking, 'What about me?' they were able to receive the miraculously multiplied bread and fish. This came about, not because they asked for their own sake, but because concern for the crowds made them ask Jesus to do something about their hunger. They must have seen that such concern was appropriate because of the way they saw Jesus first respond to the crowds with pity. They then imitated him at least in a small way by voicing their concern. Even such modest compassion as this then redounded to themselves. 

I give you a heart so wise and understanding
that there has never been anyone like you up to now,
and after you there will come no one to equal you.
In addition, I give you what you have not asked for,
such riches and glory that among kings there is not your like.”

Both the first reading and today's Gospel are examples of the fact that when we seek the kingdom of God first we also receive all else that is needful besides (see Matthew 6:33). When we try to prioritize rest above all else, as an end in itself, we find ourselves unable to attain true rest. But when we put Jesus first we find ourselves among the sheep he makes to lie down in green pastures, and beside the restful waters of his Spirit he leads us. When we put things like wealth or power first we only ever possess those things in a limited and temporary way, even if in the eyes of the world we have them in abundance. But when we first seek wisdom, of which the fear of the Lord is the beginning, we grow toward our true royal dignity as children of God. We receive the first installment of our inheritance from him, the Holy Spirit, and eventually the fullness of true treasure in heaven.

Michael Card - The King Of Love My Shepherd Is

 

6 February 2026 - guilty conscience

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

“It is John whom I beheaded. He has been raised up.”

Herod, it seemed, had a guilty conscience. He hated the fact that John had criticized has marriage, and wanted to silence that critique. But even once John was imprisoned he couldn't help but find him interesting. This was perhaps because John lacked much of a filter when it came to the truth. He was, no doubt, surrounded by people who told him mostly only what he wanted to hear. But John was different. Because he was a righteous and holy man he could not stop short of offering the full truth as he understood it to Herod, who, in virtue of being human, was entitled to that truth. He didn't condemn Herod simply for the sake of condemning him. He did it because then there might be the possibility, for change, transformation, and redemption. To hold out on the fullness of truth in such a case was in fact to deny him this opportunity.

Herodias had an opportunity one day when Herod, on his birthday,
gave a banquet for his courtiers, his military officers,
and the leading men of Galilee.

Herodias, however, did not find John interesting or appealing in the way that Herod did. To her, he was only an external manifestation of her own conscience condemning her for a marriage that was unlawful. She, perhaps, was less accustomed to people saying always and only positive things to her, and perhaps more ready to fight to obtain and maintain position in society. In any event, she wasn't interested in John enough to let him linger even in prison. His continued existence was a reminder of her sin. But she could not achieve her goal of destroying John through the persuasive power of reason. Rather, she used her ability to manipulate people and situations in order to accomplish it. She implicated her own daughter in the process, subverting the gift of the girl's talent and beauty into the locus of temptation for her own husband and his guests. Whether this girl felt as though she had no choice to participate or whether her mother had formed her in such a way that she did it willingly does not change the fact that it was primarily Herodias that was guilty. She demonstrated the ruthless drive to achieve her desire, no matter the cost. 

His own daughter came in and performed a dance
that delighted Herod and his guests.
The king said to the girl,
“Ask of me whatever you wish and I will grant it to you.” 

Herod had only a vague an noncommittal relationship with the truth. In some way he was still able to understand it. But he often favored his desires and proclivities rather than conforming to it when it made imposing demands on his lifestyle. Yet we can see from the effect of this dance that giving in to his desires did not make him free. In fact, doing so made him willing to surrender half of the kingdom over which he was sovereign to fulfill them. And this is how it always is with sin. It promises freedom, enjoyment, and delight. But these promises end up empty. We find ourselves deprived of the royal sovereignty we are meant to exercise over our own lives, no longed guided by reason, but chained to our desires.

There are two different angles by which way may apply this Gospel to our lives. The first is taking John the Baptist as an example of fearlessly speaking any truth that might be helpful for others even in spite of difficult consequences. The second is that we ourselves ought to strive to maintain our relationship to the truth as the guide of our actions, that we resist the temptation to act on our desires when we know them to be harmful and illicit. Though, from our first reading, we are reminded that even if we dos sometimes fail to speak the truth or resist temptation there is always forgiveness available, if we seek it.

The Lord forgave him his sins
and exalted his strength forever;
He conferred on him the rights of royalty
and established his throne in Israel.

DC Talk - Fearless

 

5 February 2026 - when nothing is more than something

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

He instructed them to take nothing for the journey but a walking stick
–no food, no sack, no money in their belts.

The command of Jesus helped them to internalize the fact that this was not ultimately their project, but his. They weren't directed to use of such authority as they themselves had as individuals, but rather to rely on the authority they received from Jesus himself. Could this authority have still been operative with stick, food, sack, and money in tow? Clearly it could have. But it would have been much easier for them to fall into their own methods of planning and problem solving, as though those faculties were decisive in whether or not they could achieve success. But they were not merely political activists canvasing the nearby towns with persuasive rhetoric. They were representatives of the kingdom of God, pushing back the darkness, taking the world back from the unclean spirits to which it was in bondage.

We may be more or less willing to make due without certain comforts when we have no choice. But how ready are we to willingly give them up when, strictly speaking, we don't have to do so? Are will able to choose to set aside our comfort for the sake of seeing the kingdom advance, to open ourselves more to the power and authority of Jesus at work within us? To which we say, why not both/and? Why not comfort and commission, pleasure and purpose? Why not keep our food, sack, money, and walking sticks unless there is a situation where we are forced to do without them, rather than giving them up willingly? But we probably know ourselves well enough to recognize that we are so susceptible to addiction to comfort and pleasure that without a rather formal and rigorous act of the will at the beginning we won't have the freedom to choose the kingdom over comfort when we are put to the test. We should remember that when we are asked to give things up it is not usually because the things in themselves are bad. It is rather so that we may attain to a greater degree of freedom.

Everything we insist on bringing with us on our journey comes with the cost of maintaining it, whether that is financial, social, or merely emotional. The more we are free to do without the things that the world considers to be required the less those things will be able to steal our joy. What facets of our lives have we made into requirements that we could in fact do without? What security or comfort do we insist on providing for ourselves rather than trusting in the Lord to take care of us? Is there some kind of simulation or training exercise we could undertake, as did the disciples in today's Gospel, in which we could practice choosing the kingdom first and relying on God to a greater degree?

Whatever place does not welcome you or listen to you,
leave there and shake the dust off your feet
in testimony against them.

We may insist that we aren't really that addicted to comfort or pleasure. But say what we will about those, one thing we undeniably have trouble doing without is the affirmation of others. If we think about it, we realize Jesus could have always and only sent his disciples to situations where they could be successful. But that wasn't his plan. His mission for them included the eventuality that they would face rejection. Not only did this completely frustrate their human need to control the situation, it also did not supply most of the reward that such a journey could offer on the human level. But there was still a reward to be had. The Father who sees in secret would repay them for the faithfulness to his Son. And yet the rewards of the kingdom are only available for those who are not overfull of the rewards of the world. The sweetness of the kingdom is only desirable to those whose palates haven't been ruined by the things of earth. But Jesus helps us learn to desire his rewards, and retrains our taste to appreciate the good things he offers. At least, he is willing to do so. Let us then learn to cooperate with this plan of his, if not immediately and all at once, at least with ever growing maturity.

 

Shane And Shane - Psalm 34 (Taste And See)

 

4 February 2026 - homecourt disadvantage

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

 King David said to Joab and the leaders of the army who were with him,
“Tour all the tribes in Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba
and register the people, that I may know their number.”

David sinned because this census revealed a lack or decrease in his trust in God, and a desire to ensure that he had power comparable to that of other nations. In this sense a census was only useful as a comparative metric of power of a human and military sort. 

Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary,
and the brother of James and Joseph and Judas and Simon? 

The neighbors and relatives of Jesus thought that he was too much like them, too normal, in other words, to substantiate the astonishing way with which he taught. David was not content with Israel as it was and those in Nazareth where not content with Jesus as he was. They both desired some extraordinary measure of the proof of the power in which they were asked to believe. Had David been humble enough to trust in the Lord, even though the power of the surrounding nations seemed intimidating, he might have avoided a plague that decimated "seventy thousand of the people". Had those in Nazareth been sufficiently humble before Jesus they might have recognized that there was more to him than meets the eye. Instead, they assumed that Jesus was on the same level as all of them, because to all appearances he seemed to be. And they took offense that anyone on their level would apparently presume greatness in the way that he did. If he was so great, they might have thought, he ought to have been more obviously distinct, his greatness more readily distinguishable. He ought to have been obviously out of their league rather than, apparently, one who was an equal footing with them.

Jesus said to them,
“A prophet is not without honor except in his native place
and among his own kin and in his own house.” 

God, however, did not work through typical or recognizable structures of human power. He did not need vast numbers to ensure military victory. He could work through David precisely when David was at his best, humble, trusting, and faithful, when he might have, to others, appeared weak. And he could work through Jesus because and not in spite of his humility. It was his willingness to forgo that glory that was rightly his that allowed him to come close enough to help us (see Philippians 2:1-11). But that humility was a liability when it came to his recognition by those who were proud. This hiddenness of the activity of God required faith to recognize, and sufficient humility to open oneself to that faith. One needed humility before the idea of the possibility of something greater than oneself, greater than the normal terms of worldly greatness, even while that something appeared too weak to accomplish anything. Because, to those with faith, that weakness availed much:

So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there,
apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them.

Phil Wickham - House Of The Lord

 

3 February 2026 - too late?

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

"My son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom!
If only I had died instead of you,
Absalom, my son, my son!"

The world seemed to be broken in ways that could never be fully redeemed. Struggle, even among family members like David and Absalom, was a reality that did not seem likely to somehow conduce to some greater good. Then the finality of death seemed to negate all remaining possibilities of deriving some good from all of the evil. By the time the messiah arrived on the seen it seemed like it was probably too late for the world. How could he, even he, possibly make good on all the suffering, sin, and death, that marked human history?

My daughter is at the point of death.
Please, come lay your hands on her
that she may get well and live.

The implication from Jairus that if Jesus didn't come soon it would be too late. There were some things in this world that could be overcome.  Sometimes sickness could be cured, or disability healed. But death, it was thought, had an absolute finality that could not be challenged. Jairus's hope was that Jesus would come to save his daughter before she died. In his mind every minute, every second counted. 

Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him,
turned around in the crowd and asked, "Who has touched my clothes?"

Jesus, however, was not flustered by the apparent time constraints placed on him by others. It wasn't that had wanted to see Jairus squirm, so much as it was that he wanted him to witness something greater and so understand something deeper and more life changing. With him, there was no such thing as too late. With him, there was no problem so permanent that he could not resolve it. 

The lady with the flow of blood had been afflicted for twelve years and no doctor could help her. This too seemed like an unsolvable problem. But one faith filled touch of the hem of Jesus's garment and she was healed. 

The threshold of 'too late' is when we think we have to give up because there is nothing that can be done. We think a disease, or death, or some other problem is permanent. Seeing something for so long in one condition, like the many dead who don't arise, or a lengthy illness spanning the course of many years, makes us think that it will always be in that condition. We believe that if it were a fixable problem it would have already been fixed. We are suspicious of a God that doesn't give us what we want when we want it. But Jesus constantly reveals that his timing is better than our own. It's difficult to quantify in a utilitarian calculus. It's easy to argue that it would have been better for the little girl not to die in the first place. But then that household could not have learned of the power of the resurrection. So too could God have sent someone to heal the woman sooner. But then she would not have had the opportunity to have her faith in Jesus confirmed. The suspicious part of us wonders if these are really greater goods than a life of uninterrupted comfort. And, we confess, we'd probably choose comfort given the choice. But at the same time we suspect that the faith that resulted from the timing of Jesus was more than worth it for the people involved. There is a mystery, yes. But there is no denying the way these individuals were changed.

Ike Ndolo -  Awake, O Sleeper

 

2 February 2026 - presentation accounted for

 

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

But who will endure the day of his coming?
And who can stand when he appears?

Who indeed was able to endure the day of the coming of the Lord to his temple? He came in the form of a helpless child born to parents so poor that they could not bring the standard offering of a lamb and a pigeon or turtledove, though perhaps in some fashion, he himself was the lamb that they offered. Only people who had prepared their hearts were able to stand when he appeared. Others missed the significance of the moment entirely.

This man was righteous and devout,
awaiting the consolation of Israel,
and the Holy Spirit was upon him.

Simeon not only knew about the promises of God. He desired them. Many others were vaguely aware that some messenger of the covenant was coming, perhaps even soon. But it did not make them particularly more attentive to the small and almost hidden way in which it happened. Simeon seemed to not only have learned about it but to have allowed the Holy Spirit to reveal it to him personally. Thus, what others expected only generically, happening out there somewhere else, Simeon anticipated personally. Yes, he was righteous and devout. But those factors alone weren't the whole story about why he recognized the coming of the Lord, or, in particular, why he found such fulfillment when it happened. It was because the Holy Spirit was upon him in such a way that what others experienced as mere factual historical data became deeply personal to him. The Holy Spirit can make the same difference for us when we study revelation, especially the Scriptures. The righteousness of Simeon was not rigid, nor his devotion merely performance. Rather, both represented his openness to the work of the Spirit within him. 

Because Simeon responded to the Spirit what the Psalmist wrote was true for him: "Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart" (see Psalm 37:4). We can see that this is very much what happened when we read Simeon say, "Now, Master, you may let your servant go in peace, according to your word". We respond to verses like this pious assent of our intellects. But can we actually imagine it being true, imagine someone desiring the Lord so much that just to see him was enough to fulfill the entire purpose of his life? But that is what happened. And Simeon was not unique. There were others like Anna, who, after seeing Jesus, "gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were awaiting the redemption of Jerusalem". She was so moved by his coming that she couldn't help but speak of him. 

Perhaps a part of the message of the Feast of the Presentation is that we too should look to the Lord to find our joy, that we should delight ourselves in him, and that his Spirit really can cause or hearts to correspond to him to the degree that we find in him the fulfillment of our deepest desires, completely and forever.

Newsboys - Joy

 

 

 

1 February 2026 - blessed assurance

Today's Readings
(Audio) 

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

The beatitudes are obviously counterintuitive from a worldly perspective. Generally, if asked how to obtain kingdoms, comfort, land, or other rewards, we would guess that the easiest way would be through power and wealth. How might we receive mercy? Perhaps through emotional appeal or even deception. How might we see the vision of God? Perhaps through some exclusive calling, since Moses at least was allowed to see God's back, or through pursuing the secret knowledge of the Gnostics. How might we be regarded as children of God? Such a designation was typically reserved for kings and emperors. Normally persecution would be a hindrance to receiving a kingdom. But here it is part of the process according to the expected program. In this beginning of his Sermon on the Mount Jesus upends all of our intuitions about how to attain blessedness.

The beatitudes are counterintuitive for another reason as well. For disciples who have been formed in the Gospel of grace, and trained to recognize anything that reeks of Pelagian achievement through our effort, this program of Jesus for how to attain fulfillment at first seems a little too closely tied to the formula of first doing one thing to attain a result, as though we earned it. Where in this program is there room for God's grace? Yet perhaps it is there, beneath the surface, as an assumed prerequisite. One beatitude should suffice as an example. 

Blessed are the merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.

This is reminiscent of the Our Father in which we pray to be forgiven because we forgive. But if we look at this in the larger context of the Gospel of Matthew we will also encounter the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant (see Matthew 18:21-35). In it, the servant did not earn the forgiveness of the master. It was wholly unearned and unmerited. It was only on this basis that he was judged on whether or not he would show mercy to others. In order to actually obtain and enjoy the mercy he had already received he had to be willing to show that same mercy to others. So too with us and this beatitude. It's not like the mercy we are able to show to others comes out of nowhere, or that it is generated by our moral striving. It is rather a result of the fact that we have already received mercy from God, that he in fact acted merciful toward us before we could do anything to deserve or even desire it.

If we are called to spiritual poverty it can only be because of Our Lord Jesus, "became poor, so that through his poverty you might become rich" (see Second Corinthians 8:9). The reason our mourning can lead to joy as because Jesus did not despise shedding tears for our sake for the joy that was set before him. He now allows our tears to share in the merit of his tears so that his joy may become our own.

The beatitudes, then, require grace to attain. They never give us boasting rights. We cannot brag about what great peacemakers we are, or the degree to which we have despised wealth, or even the purity of our hearts. Paul was clear on this point and we should be as well. All is gift. All is grace.

It is due to him that you are in Christ Jesus,
who became for us wisdom from God,
as well as righteousness, sanctification, and redemption,
so that, as it is written,
"Whoever boasts, should boast in the Lord."

The Dameans - Beatitudes