My thoughts (Christen Peters):

It seems that when I’ve looked at this passage in the past, I’ve really focused on how the sheep know Jesus’ voice and how Jesus calls his sheep by name. Somehow I’m not feeling that focus this time. As I’ve pondered this passage during the last week, I am most struck by verse 16.

In the time that the Gospel of John was written, this verse would have seemed quite revolutionary. What was most striking and fearful for the people of the time was that it meant that Gentiles were Jesus’ sheep also. Talk about turning things on end. The Old Testament (or First Testament) scriptures talk over and over again about the Jewish people being God’s chosen people. But here is Jesus saying “Hey — there are others that will be my people too.” Imagine the chagrin of those who had been going through their lives trying their best to keep all 613 Old Testament laws.

Today we might feel great justification in proclaiming this verse as argument for the inclusion of groups that some ultra-conservatives may feel don’t qualify — like, perhaps, those of us who are GLBT, and those who love and support us. Which really brings me to the thing that most sticks with me:

Who is it that I have unfairly judged as most surely NOT being one of Jesus’ sheep?

Am I willing to take to heart that Jesus’ people are not for me to pick and choose?

Thought for the day: God, help me to remember that it’s not my place to pass judgment — that my testament to your goodness and mercy would be much better served by my love of all my fellow beings.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to begin, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (Christen Peters):

The many times I’ve heard this story related, or have read it, I’ve seen it as an example of Jesus throwing out rabbinical translation of law in favor of doing the greater good. And in doing so, Jesus touched off the conflict that would lead to his crucifixion.

I’ve always wondered, though, why Jesus singled out this person. This man has been paralyzed for 38 years, which must have been the vast majority of his life. Because of his handicap, he probably had never married. I can only surmise that it was members of his extended family who delivered him to the pools each day. Once they’d gotten him there, they went about their daily lives. They probably hoped like heck that he’d manage to make it into the pool so that they didn’t have to deal with having such an outcast in their family anymore.

This man has begun to feel so hopeless that when Jesus asks him if he wants to be healed, the man fails to even recognize Jesus’ offer of wholeness. He merely recounts the reason why he hasn’t gotten better already. In spite of it all, Jesus tells him to gather his mat and go — as if he’d been whole all the while and only needed someone to tell him so.

Does this sound even a little familiar?

How many times have you heard of families depositing gay men and women on the doorsteps of religion, hoping that they’ll be “cured”? Have you ever felt like an outcast in your family, school, neighborhood, city, and country? Have you ever cried in the night to be healed of this thing that seems to have separated you from the rest of the world, and from God?

How many times have you failed to recognize that you are already whole — you need only pick up your mat and go!

Don’t let yourself be thrown by verse 14. Doesn’t it seem unreasonable to think that Jesus considered the man to have been paralyzed because of some sin he had committed? I think the sin Jesus is talking about here is more likely a loss of faith, or a failure to see the nearness of God in all things and at all times. We talk often about how people come to Christ all gung-ho, then seem to fade away. I think Jesus is warning this man not to fall away from God again. And I think we would do well to heed the same warning.

Thought for the day: What is keeping me from seeing the nearness of God, and my own wholeness in God?

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to start, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (Christen Peters):

I have spent days trying to pick just part of this chapter as one of my “favorite” scriptures. I can’t seem, though, to find a way to take even one of these verses without the others.

When asked about the greatest of the commandments, Jesus responded:

37 He said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’

38 This is the greatest and first commandment.

39 And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’

40 On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 22)

When I read Romans 14, I see practical examples of “love your neighbor as yourself”. So often we get caught up in details. Church is on Sunday… not Saturday, not Wednesday, and certainly not on the fifth Tuesday of the month. Communion should be reserved for high holidays… or every time we worship… or only shared in by our holy leaders. All food is okay for consumption… or only kosher food… or only food organically-grown by good Christian women using donkeys (in honor of the Virgin Mary) to plow the land. We should only socialize with fine, upstanding, well-dressed Christians who look, think, talk, and act just like we do. Or should we? Why all of the limits? Why do we feel compelled to make everyone do everything just like we do?

I think Romans 14 compels us to drop our prejudices. Romans 14 insists that we look at how we would want someone else to respect our ways and beliefs and rituals, then demands that we extend the same courtesy we would like to be given. Romans 14 makes it clear that judging our fellow beings is not our job. On the contrary, our only job is to keep clear the path that our fellow beings must follow in their lives. Romans 14 insists that we look at what is really important — love your neighbor as yourself, give as you would like to receive, view as you would like to be viewed, and requires that we do so.

Thought for the day: My ways are what work for me, but God made us all uniquely wonderful. Help me to extend to my fellow humans all of the acceptance, patience, and love I would like to receive from them.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to start, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (Christen Peters):

“Now the spirit of the Lord departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the Lord tormented him.”

That is a pretty powerful picture. Can you see it? Can you see God saying “I am finished with you” and turning his back on Saul? Not just turning his back, but actually commanding an evil spirit to torment the man?

I see something a little different going on here. It’s similar to experiences I’ve had from time to time in my own life. While I am as far from a monarch as can be, I have sometimes felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. I have looked at my life and seen all those who count on me — and wondered how I’d ever be a proper example, how I’d ever fulfill their expectations. I have looked at the world around me and wondered how I’ll ever make an impact for the better — wondered what I’m not doing enough of because the world isn’t better enough yet.

There have certainly been times, too, when I have been far too proud of myself. Some project goes well and I become impressed with my skills. My daughter brags about how cool her parents are and my head can swell like an over-inflated balloon. I, like Saul, have lost my focus on God at times. And when I’ve allowed worldly matters to distract me, I’m sure my behavior has shown that.

I can only imagine what it must have been like to be Saul. To be the first human king of Israel must have been tough. God is a tough act to follow! Imagine the expectation of the Israelites — imagine going through each day wondering if you’re measuring up. And what a rush it must have been when things went well! Saul must have felt like he was God on earth. That could certainly have blinded him to God’s eternal power — and would probably have kept him from recognizing God’s dominion over his own life.

Along comes this kid who, unbeknownst to Saul, has been anointed as the next king of Israel, a human king of God’s choosing. And when Saul is being tormented, David simply plays his lyre, and Saul is relieved of his torment for a little while.

This must surely be the first example of formal music therapy. But what is really happening? How is it that a little bit of music has the power to even temporarily relieve Saul? Look at the songs that David was playing for Saul — read Psalms. Here are songs of praise, outpourings of fear and anger, and prayers of supplication. Every one of them is God-focused. What David did, even for just those few minutes, was allow Saul to let go of that weight of the world (and his own arrogance) and focus on the power of God.

Thought for the day: Just as when I’m caught up in myself and what I should be, could be, would be, Saul was caught up in Saul instead of God. When I remain focused on the fact that God is God and I am not, my psyche feels so much better. Music happens to be a great way for me (and apparently Saul) to re-focus on God.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. Use the item above as a starting point, or consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (Christen Peters):

I have always viewed these passages with something of a “that’s just the way it is” kind of attitude:

• Some people will hear and not understand (verses 4 and 19).
• Some people will be all gung-ho, then fall away the first time the going gets tough (verses 5-6 and 20-21).
• Some people will hear, but allow worldly matters to distract them (verses 7 and 22).
• And there are some people who will just plain get it (verses 8 and 23).

I’m led now, though, to consider these passages more as directives for growth than the absolutes I often thought them to be. This is the time of year when I begin working in my own garden and it’s given me a more visual picture of these words.

The first thing I have to do is to work the soil so that it will be receptive to the seeds I will sow. The seed can’t even begin to take root if there is no soft place for it to be. In the case of my spiritual garden, this means regularly taking myself to a place that allows me to really learn to understand the word of God. I open my soul by attending worship services and hearing the words of God explained and by regularly seeking opportunities to learn more.

Once the seeds I’ve planted begin to grow, they still need regular attention. I can’t just wipe my brow and walk away. The plants have to be tended with regular watering and feeding in order for them to grow deep roots. My soul needs the same thing. Daily quiet time — whatever form that takes — is one of the key ways my soul gets its sustenance.

As grow the plants, of course, so grow the weeds. It is up to me to pull the weeds and protect the plants. The same is true of my soul. The weeds of this world are everywhere I turn — and sometimes I don’t recognize that they are draining my time and energy until it is too late. Having a close-knit group of friends to “pull the weeds”, or at least point them out is very important. This may be a study group, a ministry team, or an Oasis. These are the people that see and know me best — the ones that care about the path I’m on — and love me enough to point it out when I begin to lose my focus.

Thought for the day: My soul is my spiritual garden and it needs regular attention.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to start, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.

My thoughts (Christen Peters):

As of April 7, 2011, there are 6,910,795,756 people in the world, according to the World Population Clock. I am one, and only one, of them.

And God knows me. God knows my name. Just as Jesus was able to call to Zacchaeus by name in Luke 19:5, you and I are known to God by name. How precious we must be!

Think about the people who pass through your life. I’ll bet there are lots of them. Maybe you see them every day, maybe you see them in the halls at work, or the aisles of the grocery store. How many of them do you really know? How many of them do you even know by name? Generally, we know by name the people that have most affected us. What an impression we must have made on God’s heart that we are known — each and every one of us.

You say: “But, wait! I’m a sinner. In fact, I’m a bad sinner. I’ve wandered away from God more times than I can count. Surely God is ready for me to go once and for all.”

Not even close. God will never let you go for good. In John 15, the Pharisees are throwing a fit over Jesus’ inclusion of “sinners”. Jesus explains that it is the lost sheep who have his full attention. “…There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.” That means you. . . and me. . . and all of the rest of this human fold to which we belong.

That still, small voice that tugs at you when you are wandering away is Jesus calling to you — the Shepherd seeking His precious sheep — calling out “I love you. Come home.”

Thought for the day: My God knows me and loves me. And I can never wander so far away that I can’t come home.

We encourage you to include a time of prayer with this reading. If you need a place to start, consider the guidelines on the How to Pray page.