“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.” -1 Corinthians 13:11

Fourteen years ago, I took the train from Montana to Washington to say good-bye to my grandfather Lloyd Cooley. It was a week of spending seven hours per day at Mira Vista with him holding his hands, reading him poetry, singing him his favorite hymns, and it was truly blessed time to have. One of the most meaningful times I had was holding his hands one afternoon while he was trying to nap. I was sitting there reflecting on how the shaking hands I was holding were ones that had piloted jetliners for United Airlines, gently picked the tangles out of my hair as a child, built all manner of things from furniture to a guesthouse on their property in Canada, taught me to peel apples so that the peels formed long graceful strings, and helped me land various fish over the years in Canada while we were out in the boat. Saying good-bye to him for the last time at the end of that week was a tearful affair, and his death several weeks later threatened to completely undo me mentally and emotionally.

Back in Montana, one of our church kids was being confirmed, and she was the stereotypical kid who asked too many questions. I happened to be there with her on Good Friday when it all became “real” for her as we read the seven last “words” of Christ, interspersing each one with three verses of “Jesus in Your Dying Woes”. It is one of my favorite liturgies of the year, and sitting in our small Lutheran church with her when that realization happened is a moment I treasure to this day.

In hindsight, that Good Friday was the moment it all became real for me as well. It was the first time I faced the day as an adult who understood the very significance of why we as Christians believe that Jesus died on the cross on Good Friday and rose from the dead on Easter Sunday. If Christ’s death on the cross means that death is not forever, then I have hope that I will eventually see my grandfather again someday.

Ich liebe dich, Opa.

Heavenly Father, thank you for sending your son Jesus to die on the Cross for our sins, that death might not be final answer. Sustain us in the hope that we will see those whom we love again someday. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

“For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end.” -1 Corinthians 13:9-10

When I was dividing up 1 Corinthians 13 for Holy Week, I was more interested in keeping like verses together than I was in picking appropriate ones for each day. This is why I had to smile when I saw the verses for today–they are just so perfect for the occasion.

Jesus has been telling his disciples that he was going to be put to death, and they were too busy squabbling about things like who would sit at his right and left when he came into his kingdom instead of actually listening to him when he told them what his “kingdom” would be like. They know only “in part” because they were only interested in prophecies about that “part”. Little did they know that Jesus’s words were about to come to completion and that “part” they found interesting would soon be 180 degrees from the direction their lives would take. Their time with Jesus changed them in a powerful way. They went from men being concerned about their status in the new political order of things to men who chose to die for the sake of the Gospel.

For now, the disciples are going to have a lovely seder with their rabbi. Bread will be shared, wine will be drunk, and Jesus will tell them more things that make no sense. Complete understanding would not come for several days.

Lord, help me to trust you in those times when your words make no sense. Amen
-Jen McCabe

“Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end.” -1 Corinthians 13:8

I found it interesting that in some of the translations of this passage, the word “charity” is used in place of “love.” The implication would seem to be that good acts have a more enduring quality than prophecy, proclamation, or knowledge. I’m not sure that I believe that, but I do believe that while the good that we do has a ripple effect that travels much further than we can imagine, the power of love supersedes all things. This is not to put agape ahead of gnosis, but rather to accept that love is God’s being, and nothing is more enduring than God. Trusting this in our daily lives is for me the definition of “faith.”

Lord, you surround me with your love. Give me the wisdom to discern it, the language to share it, and the faith to trust always in it until I return to you. Amen.
-Michael Boss

“[Love] bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” -1 Corinthians 13:7

Today, eleven years ago in the early hours of the morning, my son Daniel James Kibler was delivered by emergency c-section after I developed HELLP Syndrome in order to save both of our lives. I have spoken in previous devotions about the PTSD and emotional pain that arose from the circumstances of that week, but I want to share today about the incredible agape shown to me and my family during that time.

• A parishioner of my former husband’s heard of Daniel’s birth and knew my former husband was out of town, so she raced down to Great Falls to be with me and hung out in the waiting room on the maternity floor all day in case I needed someone with me.
• The church where my former husband was preparing to interview sent us flowers and a few members sent baby presents. We did not end up at that parish, but I have never forgotten their generosity.
• My former husband’s parishioners sent so many flowers to me that every surface of my room with the exception of parts of the floor and bed were covered. We gave the best flowers to the nurses when we left, and the rest were flowers put on the altar on Easter Sunday.
• Our ELCA bishop rushed to be at my side when my husband called the synod office to let her know. My first lucid memory after Daniel’s birth is of her stroking my hand and explaining to me gently that I had just had a baby.
• My mom’s co-workers all over the world on multiple continents asked if they could pray for us. Their prayers spanned 5 continents and 3 major religions.
• My Facebook friends all put me on the prayer lists of their churches and put out the word for their friends to do the same. Almost eleven years later, I still have people who contact me and tell me that they were praying for me at that time.
• We were told by Daniel’s neonatologist that Daniel had an 80% chance of survival. My former husband wanted to baptize him, but I was terrified of doing it out of fear that something would happen to him if we did. (In my defense, PTSD and postpartum depression do not do great things to one’s reasoning.) My agnostic mother was the tie-breaking vote, reminding me that Daniel was a fighter and the baptism would be a celebration of that. We baptized him on April 10th, which was Good Friday. The pictures from the baptism remain favorites of mine, especially the one with my husband’s hand and my tiny bruised hand touching Daniel and praying for him.

Lord, thank you for the ways in which your people show love to others in times of crisis. Help us to remember that we all belong to each other and that we need to walk with one another in times like this. Amen.
-Jen McCabe