Read: Philippians 2:5-11

“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus…” –Philippians 2:5

Philippians 2 is partly a description of how we are to engage in our relationships as Jesus followers. Verse 5 tells us to have “this mind,” referring back to the mind described in verses 1-4 (unity in love and mind; unselfish; humble, realistic view of self, giving, outward focusing) and forward to the perfect mind of Christ in verses 6-11 (sacrificially giving, servant, radical humility). Truly, this call to radical humility is about as counterintuitive and countercultural as it comes!

I wonder what our Lenten theme – hope – means in this context. I find these verses to be beautiful, but daunting and not very hopeful implementation-wise to my human mind. This Jesus brand of humility is far beyond my reach and I can feel defeated! The minute I try to be more humble, I am less humble because my mind starts thinking of myself, my own abilities, my importance, or significant lack thereof! Me, me, me, me, me, me, me! My only hope, as is my usual lesson, is in the Spirit developing “this mind” in me. Even when I seek God, my ridiculous self-reliance rears its less-than-humble head!

Lord, you don’t turn away from my selfish places, but you are also not satisfied to leave them be, thank you for insisting on growth even when I quake at your call. I need your wisdom to know what your mind of humility looks like in my relationship with others, and your Spirit to make it possible. Amen.
-Nicole Smith

Read: Hebrews 5:5-10

“In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard for his godly fear.” – Hebrews 5:7

Being a night owl, I find myself needing a snack around midnight to fall asleep, and I usually end up reading a book while I eat as a reward for getting through the day to that point. I am currently reading the Discworld series by Sir Terry Pratchett to try and enhance my geek cred, and I finished the book, Small Gods, last night. In it, Pratchett satirizes religion in general, creating this fictitious city called Omnia which worships the Great God Om in various forms and has an elaborate hierarchy and a “Quisition” to punish people who commit faith transgressions. The irony is that people are practicing the religion but not actually *believing* in it, so Om, in reality, is in the form of a tortoise in most of the book due to the lack of true believers. One of the things we learn about the elaborate pantheons of deities on the Discworld is that gods/goddesses depend on believers as a fuel of sorts. Omnia has this underground cult of belief in the world not being a sphere circling a sun, but instead, a disc balanced on the back of a giant turtle named Great A’Tuin who is swimming through space, which is how things actually are, and this causes members of this underground movement to run afoul of the Quisition. As a persecuted minority, the way they gain entry into these secret meetings is the passphrase “the turtle moves.”

As I was lying in bed finishing the book at a somewhat ungodly hour, this week’s epistle reading popped into my head, and I started pondering how it fits into the ideas in the book. Verse 7 tells us that “Jesus offered up prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears” and that would probably mark him as an actual believer versus someone who is just practicing the faith in the way of most Omnians in the book. As Christians, we believe that God hears our prayers, and our prayer is actual conversation with God instead of just something we do because we probably should. That we can have these conversations with God through prayer gives me hope because I need to know that the One to whom I am crying out in fear, anger, or joy actually hears me and cares about what I am saying.

Thank you, God, that you hear us and desire a relationship with us. Amen.
-Jen McCabe

Read: Hebrews 5:5-10

“During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, He offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission.” –Hebrews 5:7

I am not a morning person. I know, I know. The rest of the world is, or so it seems to us non-morning persons. Early morning texts and phone calls. Knocks at the door. And me, still in my robe.

As early as high school, and continuing through college, I never started studying until 11 p.m. and often stayed awake past 2 a.m. Night owls, we’re called, those of us who thrive in the dark. Not surprisingly, I do my best writing late at night, too, cocooned at my desk with only owls and my imagination as company.

Night is also my unfettered prayer time. Because there is nowhere to go (except to bed), I linger over nightly prayers. Now that I have returned to the Roman Catholic Church, I have added the Examen of St. Ignatius of Loyola to my nighttime ritual:

—Give Thanksgiving
—Ask for the Spirit
—Review and Recognize Failures
—Ask for Forgiveness and Healing
—Pray about the Next Day

However we pray, we are called to pray without ceasing, and, although I fail miserably at this, I try to frame my days—and nights—with a prayerful heart. Jesus’s example in this passage reminds us that all our prayers—whether offered day or night—are heard (. . . and he was heard because of his reverent submission.)

And that sends chills up my spine. The Lord hears us.

Hear our prayers, O Lord. Amen.
-Ashley E. Sweeney

Read: Hebrews 5:5-10

“In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications …” – Hebrews 5:7a

I am not a pray-er (one who prays). That is, I am not much given to praying. At least not in the conventional sense. I struggle to keep my mind clear and quiet, so times of praying are, for me, a struggle. I enjoy the Lord’s Prayer, of course. I love the prayers and collects of our liturgy. I thank God that people have collected these wonderful, deep, theologically sound, and astute prayers over the years.

I find them helpful. I love that there are words I can use when I have no words of my own. I have prayed, of course. I do pray. But they never feel adequate. A friend of mine died the other day. He lived in another part of the country, so we hadn’t seen one another in several decades. But we stayed in touch via social media. He suffered from a wide variety of ailments, both physical and mental. But he never gave up on life. Every day was a new day for him. “Once more into the breach,” he would say. His life was a prayer, as much as his words.

Anything I had to say to his friends and family paled in comparison to what my heart was saying, feeling, thinking, wanting. What comforts me, though, is that God knows our hearts and minds. What’s more, Jesus continues to offer up prayers and supplications for us and on our behalf. I don’t think that was just “in the days of his flesh.” I think that’s true in the here and now, and that is one of the things that gives me hope to carry on. My desire is for my life to be the prayer my mouth wants to share.

Dear God, help me to live my life with dignity and respect. Help me to honor those who have gone before. Help me not to just find hope and love, but to be a living example of hope and love – both of which I have in You. Amen.
-Fr. Keith Axberg