Ignatius of Antioch, Bishop and Martyr

 

Ignatius of Antioch

Bishop and Martyr

Ignatius of Antioch, who was martyred around the year 115, lived with a deep awareness of two endings—the approaching end of his own earthly life and the final fulfillment of all things in Jesus Christ. As he was being taken to Rome for execution, Ignatius seems to have understood his coming martyrdom as the fitting conclusion to his long years of service as a bishop.

During his journey across Asia Minor under the guard of ten soldiers, whom he referred to as “my leopards,” Ignatius wrote seven letters to various churches. These letters give us a valuable glimpse into the life of the early Church, as well as the theological controversies Christians were already facing.

One of the greatest concerns of Ignatius was the spread of Gnostic teaching, which emphasized the divinity of Christ while denying or diminishing his true humanity. Ignatius strongly rejected such teaching. He wrote, “Be deaf… to any talk that ignores Jesus Christ, of David’s lineage, of Mary; who was really born, ate, and drank; was really persecuted under Pontius Pilate; was really crucified and died in the sight of heaven and earth and the underworld. He was really raised from the dead.” For Ignatius, the Incarnation was not an abstract doctrine. Jesus Christ truly entered human history, truly suffered, truly died, and truly rose again.

Ignatius also challenged those who believed that faith and church practice could be determined only by what they could prove from ancient documents. He recalled hearing some say, “If I don’t find it in the ancient documents, I don’t believe it in the Gospel.” When they demanded proof, Ignatius answered that, for him, “Jesus Christ… is the ancient documents.” His point was that the Christian faith ultimately rests not merely upon written records, but upon the living person of Jesus Christ to whom those Scriptures bear witness.

The unity of the Church was another central concern for Ignatius. He believed that this unity was rooted in Christ and expressed through the common sacramental life of Christians, beginning in Baptism and continuing in the Eucharist. He urged believers, “Try to gather more frequently to celebrate God’s Eucharist and to praise him.” He also encouraged them to listen carefully to their bishop and presbyters and to “break one loaf,” which he beautifully described as “the medicine of immortality.”

Ignatius understood the Church to be part of God’s holy order in the world, and for that reason he was deeply concerned about both sound teaching and proper worship. He warned Christians to “flee from schism as the source of mischief” and urged them to remain united with their bishop, priests, and deacons. In one of his best-known statements, he wrote, “Where the bishop is present, there let the congregation gather, just as where Jesus Christ is, there is the catholic church.”

For Ignatius, the Christian life could not be separated into isolated parts. Faith in the Incarnate Christ, unity within the Church, obedience in Christian leadership, Baptism, and the Eucharist all belonged together. Even as he faced death, his concern remained that the Church should remain faithful to Jesus Christ, united in worship, and steadfast in the truth of the Gospel.

 

Birgitta of Sweden

Mystic

Birgitta Birgersdotter was born into a noble Swedish family in 1303. From an early age, she sensed that God was calling her to a religious life. Yet at only thirteen years old, she was married against her wishes to Ulf Gudmarsson, a member of the Swedish nobility. Their marriage produced eight children, and although her life was filled with the responsibilities of marriage and motherhood, Birgitta never lost her deep desire to live wholly for God.

Throughout her married life, she practiced a disciplined life of prayer, fasting, and devotion. When her husband was away, she openly followed a strict ascetic way of life; when he was home, she practiced it more quietly. Eventually, both Birgitta and her husband became members of the Franciscan Third Order, which allowed laypeople to follow Franciscan spirituality while remaining in their ordinary lives and families.

From childhood, Birgitta had experienced visions in which Christ, the Virgin Mary, and the saints spoke to her. These messages, which she believed were given for the benefit and correction of others, came to her in Swedish. She either wrote them down herself or dictated them to her confessor. Over time, the messages became increasingly concerned with the affairs of the Church and the rulers of Europe, a development that sometimes made Birgitta deeply uncomfortable.

Though she had a good relationship with the Swedish royal family, Birgitta did not hesitate to speak when she believed those in authority had strayed from what was right. She sharply criticized the king and eventually became something of a spiritual voice for those among the Swedish nobility who opposed him.

Her influence eventually reached far beyond Sweden. Birgitta wrote to popes, kings, queens, and other rulers throughout Europe. She condemned the extravagant lifestyles she saw among members of the clergy, religious orders, and the wealthy laity. She repeatedly urged the popes living in Avignon to return the papacy to Rome. She also appealed to the rulers of England and France to seek peace and bring an end to the conflict that would later become known as the Hundred Years’ War.

Birgitta was not always a comfortable voice to hear. She challenged both Church and state to repentance, humility, and faithfulness. Because of this, she became known throughout Europe as a visionary, reformer, and sometimes an uncomfortable counselor to those in power.

After the death of her husband in 1344, Birgitta gave herself completely to the religious life. Out of the revelations she had received came the religious community later known as the Order of the Most Holy Savior, or the Brigittines.

The structure she envisioned was unusual for its time. A Brigittine monastery would include both women and men living in separate cloisters but worshiping together in a shared church. The abbess would hold authority over the entire community. Birgitta traveled to Rome seeking papal approval for the new order, and in 1370 Pope Urban V approved its rule and permitted the establishment of the monastery at Vadstena in Sweden. Birgitta herself never became its first abbess. That responsibility later fell to her daughter Catherine.

Except for several pilgrimages, Birgitta remained in Rome for the rest of her life. There she ministered among both rich and poor, provided shelter for the homeless, and continued urging the Church toward reform. She never abandoned her hope that the pope would return from Avignon to Rome.

In 1372, Birgitta believed that God was calling her through another vision to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. She traveled to Jerusalem, but on the journey home her health began to fail. Birgitta died in Rome on July 23, 1373.

Her influence did not end with her death. Her writings continued to circulate throughout Europe, and the religious order she founded continued her vision of prayer, discipline, and service. Birgitta was canonized in 1391.

In Sweden, her life and witness are especially remembered on October 7th, the anniversary of her canonization. Birgitta's story reminds us that the voice of faith is not always a comfortable one. Sometimes faithfulness requires speaking difficult truths to those in authority, serving those who have little, and remaining steadfast in prayer even when the world around us would rather not listen.

William Tyndale, Priest & Scholar, 1536

 

William Tyndale

Priest & Scholar

William Tyndale was born around 1495 at Slymbridge, near the Welsh border. He studied at Magdalen College, Oxford, where he earned both his B.A. and M.A. degrees, and later spent time studying at Cambridge. After his ordination, around 1521, he entered the household of Sir John Walsh at Little Sodbury in Gloucestershire, serving as chaplain and tutor. In 1523, Tyndale moved to London, where he found support in the home of Humphrey Monmouth, a wealthy cloth merchant.

By this time, Tyndale had become convinced that the Scriptures should be available to ordinary English-speaking Christians in their own language. He was determined to translate the Bible into English, but when it became clear that he would receive no official support for such a work in England, he left for Germany in 1524.

From that point forward, Tyndale’s life became one of constant danger. His translations were condemned, copies of his New Testament were confiscated and burned, and powerful men—including King Henry VIII and Cardinal Wolsey—sought to stop his work and bring him to trial. Yet Tyndale continued translating, revising, writing, and arranging for copies of the Scriptures to be printed and carried secretly into England.

Tyndale’s passion can perhaps best be summed up in the words he reportedly spoke during an argument with a learned churchman: “If God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plough shall know more scripture than thou dost.”

That was the heart of William Tyndale’s calling. He wanted the Word of God placed into the hands of ordinary people—the farmer, the laborer, the merchant, and the family gathered around the table. Scripture, he believed, should not belong only to clergy and scholars.

Before his death, Tyndale had completed and revised his translation of the New Testament. He also translated the Pentateuch, the Book of Jonah, and much of the Old Testament historical books from Joshua through 2 Chronicles. Although he did not live to see all of this work published, his influence on the English Bible was enormous. Much of his language survived in later translations, especially the Authorized, or King James, Version of 1611. His English was so powerful and enduring that his work has been described as “a well of English undefiled.”

Tyndale was also a man of his age. Like many religious writers of the Reformation period, he could be sharp and even bitter in controversy, and some of his translation choices reflected the theological struggles of his time. Yet behind the controversy was a man who lived simply, gave generously, and remained devoted to the work he believed God had called him to do.

For years he lived as a hunted man, moving from place to place while continuing his translation work. In the end, he was betrayed by someone he had befriended. He was arrested near Brussels, imprisoned, and eventually condemned as a heretic.

On October 6, 1536, William Tyndale was taken to the place of execution. He was strangled at the stake, and his body was then burned.

His final prayer has echoed through the centuries:

“Lord, open the King of England’s eyes.”

That prayer proved remarkably prophetic. Within only a few years, English Bibles—drawing heavily upon Tyndale’s own translation—were being placed in churches throughout England.

William Tyndale did not live to see the full fruit of his labor, but generations of English-speaking Christians have read the Scriptures through words that first came from his pen. His life reminds us of the tremendous price paid by those who believed that every Christian should be able to hear and read the Word of God in a language they could understand.

John Raleigh Mott, Ecumenist and Missionary

 

John Raleigh Mott

Ecumenist and Missionary

John Raleigh Mott devoted his life to the worldwide spread of the Gospel, believing that evangelism and Christian unity were not separate concerns, but closely connected parts of the Church’s mission.

Mott was born in Livingston Manor, New York, on May 25, 1865. Later that same year, his family moved to Iowa. After graduating from Cornell University in 1888, he began serving as student secretary of the International Committee of the YMCA and soon became chairman of the executive committee of the Student Volunteer Movement. In 1895, he became General Secretary of the World Student Christian Federation, and in 1901 he was appointed Assistant General Secretary of the YMCA.

During World War I, President Woodrow Wilson appointed Mott to the National War Work Council. His service during the war was later recognized with the Distinguished Service Medal.

Much of Mott’s missionary vision was shaped by the rallying cry, “The Evangelization of the World in this Generation.” He believed that the churches could accomplish far more in the mission field if Christians of different traditions learned to cooperate with one another. That conviction placed him at the center of the growing ecumenical movement.

Mott chaired the committee that organized the International Missionary Conference held in Edinburgh in 1910, and he also presided over the gathering. At the time, it was one of the broadest assemblies of Christians ever brought together and is often remembered as an important beginning of the modern ecumenical movement.

Speaking at that conference, Mott warned that the command of Christ to carry the Gospel to all people remained far from complete. Yet he also saw before the Church an extraordinary opportunity. He believed Christians were living in a time when the Gospel could be carried throughout the world in ways that previous generations could hardly have imagined.

Mott remained deeply involved in the movement for Christian cooperation throughout the following decades. He participated in the Faith and Order Conference at Lausanne in 1927, served as Vice-President of the Second World Conference on Faith and Order in Edinburgh in 1937, and chaired the Life and Work Conference held at Oxford that same year.

In 1946, Mott was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his work in building and strengthening international organizations committed to peace and cooperation. His many years of work also helped prepare the way for the establishment of the World Council of Churches. When the Council was formally organized in 1948, Mott was elected its lifelong Honorary President.

Although John Raleigh Mott was a Methodist layman and never an ordained minister, his Christian influence crossed denominational boundaries. The Episcopal Church honored his ministry by naming him an honorary canon of Washington National Cathedral.

Mott died in 1955 after a lifetime devoted to Christian mission, unity, and service. His life is a powerful reminder that the work of spreading the Gospel is not limited to clergy. God can use faithful laypeople just as powerfully to bring Christians together, strengthen the Church, and carry the message of Christ into the world.

Jerome, Priest and Scholar

 

Jerome

Priest and Scholar

Jerome was one of the greatest biblical scholars of the early Latin Church. His translation of the Scriptures from the Hebrew and Greek texts into Latin, together with his commentaries and homilies on the books of the Bible, made him one of the most influential Christian scholars in the history of the Western Church. His Latin translation eventually became known as the Vulgate and would shape the reading and understanding of Scripture in Western Christianity for centuries.

Jerome was born around the year 347 at Stridon, in the Roman province of Dalmatia. As a young man, he went to Rome to study, and it was there that he was converted and baptized. During a later visit to Trier in the Rhineland, Jerome became increasingly drawn to the monastic life. He eventually attempted the life of a hermit in the Syrian desert, but the experience proved difficult and unhappy.

In Antioch, around 378, Jerome reluctantly consented to be ordained a priest. He continued his serious study of Hebrew and Greek, convinced that a proper understanding of the Scriptures required careful attention to the languages in which they had originally been written. The following year he traveled to Constantinople, where he studied under Gregory of Nazianzus, one of the great theologians of the early Church.

From 382 until 384, Jerome served in Rome as secretary to Pope Damasus I. Damasus entrusted him with the enormous task of revising and translating the Bible into the Latin commonly understood by the people. This work became known as the Vulgate, from the Latin vulgata, meaning that which was commonly used or made generally available. Jerome's work would eventually become the standard biblical text of the Western Church.

Following the death of Pope Damasus, Jerome left Rome and returned to the East. He eventually settled in Bethlehem, where he established a monastery and devoted the remainder of his life to prayer, study, writing, translation, and the teaching of Scripture. He died there on September 30th, 420. According to tradition, he was buried in a chapel beneath the Church of the Nativity, near the place long honored as the site of our Lord's birth.

Jerome was not always an easy man. He possessed a sharp temper, great confidence in his learning, and an intense commitment to the ascetic life. These qualities often drew him into bitter controversies over theological questions and the interpretation of Scripture. His words toward his opponents could be severe, and he was sometimes painfully aware of his own shortcomings.

Yet Jerome could also acknowledge his faults. He sought no great ecclesiastical office, remained a determined defender of the faith he believed had been handed down by the Church, and labored tirelessly throughout his life. His knowledge of Scripture and the biblical languages was extraordinary, and his gifts as a writer were equally remarkable.

Whatever his imperfections, Jerome gave his life to the study and proclamation of God's Word. His enduring legacy reminds us that the Scriptures deserve not only our devotion but also our careful study, our disciplined labor, and our willingness to spend a lifetime seeking to understand more fully the Word God has given to His people.

St. Michael and All Angels: Michaelmas

 

St. Michael and All Angels

Michaelmas

The biblical word translated “angel” comes from the Greek word angelos, which simply means “messenger.” Throughout Scripture, God’s messengers may be seen or unseen, and they may appear in human or other forms. From the earliest days of the Church, Christians have understood themselves to be surrounded by these servants of God—spiritual beings who are swift in carrying out God’s will, powerful in his service, and able to bring light and understanding to his people.

Christian art has traditionally portrayed angels in human form with wings, symbolizing their swiftness and their freedom from earthly limitations. They are sometimes shown carrying swords as a sign of strength and authority, and clothed in brilliant garments to represent the glory and light of God that they reflect. Unfortunately, these artistic images have sometimes caused people to think of angels as creatures of legend or mythology, placing them alongside unicorns, griffins, and sphinxes. Yet the biblical understanding of angels is quite different. They are not mythical creatures, but messengers and servants of the living God.

Among the many angels mentioned in Scripture and Christian tradition, four are known by name: Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, and Raphael. Michael the Archangel is especially remembered as the mighty servant of God who stands against the powers of evil, protects God’s people, and brings the assurance of God’s peace at the end of our earthly struggle.

The feast honoring Michael and the angels has traditionally been known in England as “Michaelmas.” For centuries, it has been one of the familiar celebrations of the Christian Year and has been observed by Christians in many parts of the world.

Saint Michael has also become the patron of countless churches and Christian communities. Among the most famous is Mont Saint-Michel, the great monastery and fortress rising from the tidal waters off the coast of Normandy, a place closely connected with the religious and political history of medieval Europe. Michael is also associated with Coventry Cathedral in England, one of the best-known modern symbols of Christian reconciliation and hope. The present cathedral stands beside the ruins of the medieval church destroyed during the bombing of the Second World War—a powerful reminder that even out of destruction, God can bring new life, peace, and hope.

 

Paula and Eustochium of Rome

Paula was born in Rome in 347 into one of the great noble families of the Roman world. She traced her ancestry back to Cornelia Africana, the mother of the Gracchi, who had long been remembered as the model of the devoted Roman matron. Just as Cornelia regarded her sons as her greatest treasures, Paula would become an example of another kind—the Desert Mother who surrendered earthly wealth in order to serve God.

Paula married while still young and became the mother of five children. Widowed at the age of thirty-two, she had known all the comforts and privileges of Roman aristocratic life. But after the death of her husband, her life began to change dramatically. Inspired by the example of Marcella, whom the Church commemorates on January 31, Paula devoted herself to prayer, rigorous spiritual discipline, and the care of the poor and needy. Both Paula and Marcella eventually turned their great Roman homes into places of Christian community, gathering around them widows and women who had dedicated themselves to a life of prayer and service.

In 382, Paula met Jerome, who had come to Rome at the invitation of Bishop Damasus and was staying in the home of Marcella. Paula and her daughter Eustochium quickly became devoted students and friends of this brilliant but famously difficult scholar. Jerome was known for his sharp tongue and fierce temper, and Paula and Eustochium became among those closest to him. They often reminded him of the gentleness and humility that Christ calls his followers to show.

Although members of her noble family encouraged Eustochium to marry, she chose instead, under Jerome’s spiritual guidance, to dedicate her life entirely to God and made a vow of perpetual virginity. Jerome later wrote his well-known work De custodia virginitatis for her instruction and encouragement.

Paula and Eustochium were not merely patrons of Jerome’s work. They were serious students of Scripture in their own right. Both were fluent in Greek and, under Jerome’s instruction, became students of Hebrew as well. When Jerome eventually left Rome and returned to the East, Paula and Eustochium followed him. After making a pilgrimage through the Holy Land, they settled with him in Bethlehem.

There Paula used her wealth to establish four monasteries—one for men, directed by Jerome, and three for women under her own leadership. Bethlehem became their home and a center of prayer, study, hospitality, and biblical scholarship.

Their love for Scripture continued to deepen. Paula and Eustochium asked Jerome difficult and thoughtful questions that helped lead him to write many of his biblical commentaries. Paula also encouraged him persistently to undertake the enormous task of producing a new Latin translation of the Bible from the original languages. That translation eventually became known as the Vulgate.

Paula supplied Jerome with books and other resources needed for his work, while she and Eustochium reviewed his translations, suggested revisions, and helped edit his writings. The women living in their communities also served as scribes, making copies of the completed works so that they could be circulated. Paula and Eustochium were, therefore, far more than admirers standing in the background. They were colleagues and essential partners in the work that produced the Latin Vulgate.

Paula guided the communities at Bethlehem for about twenty years, until her death in 404. Jerome, deeply grieving the loss of his friend and companion in ministry, wrote in his eulogy for her: “If all the members of my body were turned into tongues and all my joints were to utter human voices, I should be unable to say anything worthy of the holy and venerable Paula.”

After Paula’s death, Eustochium assumed responsibility for the monasteries and continued the work begun by her mother. She remained in Bethlehem until her own death around 419 or 420. Her niece, also named Paula, was with her at the end and then continued the leadership of the communities.

The lives of Paula and Eustochium remind us that some of the greatest works of the early Church were not accomplished by famous bishops and theologians alone. Behind Jerome’s monumental work stood two remarkable women whose faith, learning, generosity, persistence, and devotion to Holy Scripture helped give generations of Christians access to the Word of God.

 

Lancelot Andrewes

Bishop of Winchester

Lancelot Andrewes, born in 1555, became one of the most respected churchmen and preachers of his generation. He was a favorite preacher of King James I and was especially known for his sermons on the Nativity and the Resurrection. His preaching was deeply rooted in Scripture and filled with the learning of a man who had spent a lifetime studying the Bible, theology, history, and the early Church. King James appreciated that kind of scholarship. For modern readers, Andrewes’ sermons can sometimes be difficult to work through, but there is much there for those willing to read them carefully.

One of his Epiphany sermons later inspired T. S. Eliot in his poem, “The Journey of the Magi.” Andrewes had written:

“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a Journey, and such a long journey:
The way deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.”

Andrewes was much more than a gifted preacher. He was an accomplished biblical scholar who knew both Hebrew and Greek and was one of the scholars chosen to translate what became the Authorized Version, better known to us as the King James Version of the Bible. He also served as Dean of Westminster and as headmaster of Westminster School before becoming a bishop. Through his teaching and leadership, he influenced a number of important churchmen of his generation, including the poet and priest George Herbert.

Andrewes was also a deeply prayerful man. One of his most enduring works is Preces Privatae, or Private Devotions, a collection of prayers and meditations drawn from Scripture and the ancient worship of the Church. He originally compiled these prayers for his own use, and they give us a glimpse into both his personal devotion and the theology that shaped his life.

At a time of continuing division between the Church of England and the Roman Catholic Church, Andrewes strongly defended the catholic heritage of the Church of England. He believed that the English Church remained part of the historic catholic and apostolic faith while standing apart from the authority of Rome.

He was also widely respected as an example of what a bishop should be. That was no small thing in an age when bishops were not always held in high regard. John Hacket, who studied under Andrewes and later became Bishop of Lichfield, remembered him as a man of extraordinary learning, dignity, kindness, and devotion. Hacket called him “the most Apostolical and Primitive-like Divine” of his age and spoke especially of the reverence with which Andrewes approached God in prayer.

Lancelot Andrewes died in 1626, leaving behind a legacy of biblical scholarship, preaching, prayer, and faithful service to the Church. Nearly four centuries later, his writings still remind us that serious study and deep devotion do not have to stand apart. In Andrewes, they belonged together.

 

Sergius of Radonezh

To the people of Russia, Sergius of Radonezh has long been regarded as both a national hero and one of their most beloved saints. He was born in Rostov around the year 1314.

Civil war and unrest eventually forced his family to leave Rostov and settle near Moscow at Radonezh, where they supported themselves by farming. When Sergius was about twenty years old, he and his brother withdrew into the nearby forest to live a life of prayer and solitude. From that simple beginning grew the Monastery of the Holy Trinity, which became an important center for the renewal of Russian Christianity.

Sergius remained there for the rest of his life. Though he became widely respected throughout Russia, he had no desire for rank or position in the Church. In 1378, he even refused the opportunity to become Metropolitan of Moscow.

His influence, however, reached far beyond the walls of his monastery. Sergius gave his firm support to Prince Dimitri Donskoi during Russia's struggle against its Tartar rulers. In 1380, Dimitri won a decisive victory at the Battle of Kulikovo, an event that helped lay the foundation for Russia's eventual independence.

Sergius himself was known as a simple and gentle man with a deeply mystical faith. He believed that the monastic life was not meant only for prayer and contemplation, but also for service. He encouraged his monks to care for the needs of the people around them, and through both his teaching and example he inspired a deep devotion to the Orthodox Christian faith.

Sergius died in 1392. Pilgrims continue to visit his shrine at the monastery he founded, located at what is now Sergiyev Posad, about forty-three miles northeast of Moscow. The monastery, with its beautiful churches and cathedrals, remains one of the great spiritual centers of the Russian Orthodox Church.

The Russian Church remembers Sergius on September 25th. His name is also familiar to many Anglicans through the Fellowship of St. Alban and St. Sergius, an organization founded to encourage friendship, understanding, and closer relations between the Anglican and Orthodox Churches.

 

Thecla of Iconium

Proto-Martyr among Women

Thecla, who according to early Christian tradition was a disciple of the apostle Paul, became one of the most beloved women saints of the ancient Church. Her story is preserved in the second-century Acts of Paul and Thecla, a work that combines Christian teaching with the storytelling style of the ancient world.

According to the account, Thecla was a young woman who heard Paul preaching the Gospel and was so deeply moved by his message that she abandoned her plans for marriage and chose instead to follow him and devote herself to Christ.

That decision placed her in considerable danger. The story says that Thecla was condemned to be burned at the stake, but a sudden thunderstorm extinguished the flames and saved her life. Later she was thrown into an arena with wild animals, where a fierce lioness protected her rather than attacking her.

Perhaps the most memorable episode concerns Thecla's baptism. Believing that death might be near, she threw herself into a pool filled with dangerous sea creatures and baptized herself in the water. According to the story, lightning struck and killed the creatures before they could harm her. Eventually the governor released her, and Thecla went on to travel and proclaim the Gospel.

The Acts of Paul and Thecla contains many of the dramatic features commonly found in ancient literature, and for that reason it is difficult to separate historical memory from legend. Even so, Christians of the early centuries generally believed that a real woman named Thecla stood behind the stories that had grown up around her. Devotion to her became widespread, particularly among Christian women.

Around the year 200, the Christian writer Tertullian complained that some women were appealing to Thecla's example as support for the right of women to teach and to baptize. Whatever Tertullian thought of that practice, his words provide important evidence that Thecla's story was already well known and influential among Christians at a very early date.

By the fourth and fifth centuries, a shrine dedicated to Thecla at Seleucia in Asia Minor had become an important place of pilgrimage. Devotion to her spread across much of the Christian world, from Gaul in the West to Palestine in the East. Her popularity can be seen not only in Christian writings but also in paintings, stone carvings, clay flasks, oil lamps, textiles, and other objects from the ancient world. Parents even began naming their daughters after her.

In the Orthodox tradition, Thecla is honored as the “Protomartyr Among Women.” Just as Stephen is remembered as the first Christian man to suffer martyrdom, Thecla came to be remembered as the first woman who was willing to face death for her faith in Christ.

Whether every dramatic detail of her ancient story happened exactly as it was later told cannot now be known. What can be said is that generations of Christians remembered Thecla as a woman of extraordinary courage—a disciple who heard the Gospel, gave herself completely to Christ, and refused to allow fear, social expectations, or even the threat of death to turn her away from the path she believed God had placed before her.

 

St. Matthew, Apostle and Evangelist

Matthew, one of the twelve disciples of Jesus, is generally identified with Levi, the tax collector mentioned in the Gospels of Mark and Luke. Matthew’s Gospel tells us that he was sitting at the tax booth when Jesus came to him and simply said, “Follow me.” Matthew got up and followed him. There was no long discussion and no list of qualifications. Jesus called, and Matthew answered. Later, Matthew welcomed Jesus to a meal where other tax collectors and people considered sinners were also present.

That meal caused trouble. The religious leaders could not understand why Jesus would sit at the same table with people like these. Tax collectors were among the most despised people in Jewish society. They worked within the Roman system, collecting money from their own people for an occupying government, and many had a reputation for collecting more than was required and keeping the difference for themselves. They were regarded as collaborators, extortioners, and traitors. Respectable people avoided them, and devout Pharisees wanted little to do with them.

Matthew, then, was hardly the sort of man anyone would have expected Jesus to choose as one of his closest followers. But that is part of what makes his story so important. Jesus did not look at Matthew and see only a tax collector or an outcast. He saw a man who could answer the call to follow him. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus repeatedly challenged the comfortable assumption that respectable people were always closer to God than those society had pushed aside. In his parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, it was the tax collector who humbled himself and prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner,” and went home justified before God.

Early Christian writers such as Irenaeus and Clement of Alexandria tell us that Matthew preached among the people of Judea and later carried the Gospel farther east. How much of that tradition can be established historically is uncertain. The Church has also long remembered Matthew as a martyr, although we do not know with certainty when, where, or how he died.

What we do know is where his story begins. Matthew was sitting at a tax booth when Jesus called him. He left it behind and followed. His life reminds us that Jesus was never limited by the labels people placed on one another. A man regarded as a sinner and an outcast became an apostle of Christ and, in the Church’s tradition, one of the great witnesses to the Gospel.

Theodore of Tarsus, Archbishop of Canterbury

 

Theodore of Tarsus

Archbishop of Canterbury

Theodore was born in 602 in Tarsus in Asia Minor, the same city that had given the Church the Apostle Paul centuries earlier. A learned monk of the Eastern Church, Theodore eventually made his way to Rome, where his life would take an unexpected turn. On March 26th, 668, Pope Vitalian ordained him Archbishop of Canterbury and sent him to England.

The English Church Theodore inherited was deeply troubled. Plague had taken the lives of many of its clergy and leaders, while disagreements between Celtic and Roman Christian traditions continued to divide the Church. Theodore came into this difficult situation at an age when most people would have been thinking about retirement. Instead, he began a ministry that would shape Christianity in England for an entire generation.

After arriving in England, Theodore established a school at Canterbury that became known for the excellence of its teaching. Students were instructed in Scripture, theology, language, music, and other branches of learning, and many who studied there later became leaders in both the English and Irish churches.

Theodore also traveled throughout England, visiting the churches and working to bring greater unity among Christians shaped by different traditions. One example of his wisdom can be seen in his treatment of Chad. Theodore recognized Chad’s character and ministry and regularized his episcopal ordination, allowing him to continue serving the Church as a bishop.

He also helped establish clearer boundaries for the English dioceses so that bishops could provide better pastoral care to the people entrusted to them. Theodore presided over important synods, encouraged reforms based upon established canon law, and helped lay the foundations for the parish organization that would remain an important part of the English Church for centuries.

The historian Bede wrote that Theodore was the first Archbishop of Canterbury whom all the English Christians obeyed. Few leaders had a greater influence upon the organization, unity, education, and growth of Christianity in England during this formative period.

Theodore died on September 19th, 690, in his eighty-eighth year. He was buried alongside Augustine and the other early Archbishops of Canterbury in the monastic Church of Saints Peter and Paul.

Theodore came to England late in life, yet his greatest work was still ahead of him. His story is a reminder that God’s call is not limited by age. Even in what others might consider the closing years of life, God may still have important work for us to do.

Catherine of Genoa, Mystic & Nurse, 1510

 

Catherine of Genoa

Catherine of Genoa is remembered both for her devoted care of the sick during repeated outbreaks of plague and for the writings that grew out of her profound mystical experiences with God. Her works later became widely known through Baron Friedrich von Hügel’s classic study, The Mystical Element of Religion, published in 1908.

Catherine was born in Genoa, Italy, in 1447, the youngest of five children. As a young girl, she desired to enter religious life and become a nun, but her application to the convent was denied. Instead, at the age of sixteen, she was married to Giuliano Adorno in an effort to bring an end to a long-standing feud between their two families.

Their early years together were anything but happy. Giuliano was known for his anger, infidelity, gambling, and reckless spending, eventually losing much of their money. Catherine fell into a deep depression that lasted nearly ten years. At one point, she prayed that God might allow her to become seriously ill so that she could simply remain in bed and withdraw from the life around her.

Everything changed on March 22nd, 1473. While Catherine was in church making her confession to a priest, she was suddenly overwhelmed by an intense awareness of the love of God. The experience was so powerful that she became stunned and disoriented and left the church before even finishing her confession. That moment marked a turning point in her life and the beginning of a much deeper life of prayer and devotion.

Catherine’s spirituality was not limited to contemplation. Her deep prayer life led her outward into service, especially caring for the sick in a local hospital. In time, Giuliano joined her in this ministry, and their marriage itself began to change. Through their shared care for the poor and suffering, the couple grew closer together. Eventually, they moved into the Pannatone, a large hospital in Genoa, where they devoted themselves almost entirely to caring for those who were sick and dying.

It was there that Catherine also dictated a number of works on prayer, divine love, and the soul’s relationship with God. These writings were published about forty years after her death and became an important part of the Christian mystical tradition.

At the heart of Catherine’s spirituality was the belief that God should be loved simply because God is God, and not because of what we hope to receive in return. She expressed this plainly when she wrote, “Pure Love loves God without any for.”

She also described the soul’s experience of divine love in powerful words: “All that I have said is nothing compared to what I feel within, the witnessed correspondence of love between God and the soul; for when God sees the soul, as pure as it was in its origins, he tugs at it with a glance, draws it and binds it to himself with a fiery love that by itself could annihilate the immortal soul.”

Catherine continued caring for the sick until the end of her life. She died on September 15th, 1510, while still serving those in need, and she was buried in the chapel of the hospital where she had spent so many years in prayer, service, and love.

 

THE NATIVITY OF THE BLESSED VIRGIN MARY

“Then Mary said, ‘Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.’” — Luke 1:38

Meditation

The Gospels tell us very little about the family or childhood of Mary, the mother of our Lord. Later Christian tradition names her parents as Joachim and Anne and tells of an elderly, childless couple who were finally blessed with a daughter whom they dedicated to God.

Those stories come from the Protevangelium of James, a second-century Christian writing, and not from Scripture. We cannot know with certainty how much of that tradition preserves actual history. What we do know is the kind of woman Mary became.

Mary was a daughter of Israel, raised among a people who remembered God’s covenant with Abraham and waited for the fulfillment of his promises. She would have grown up hearing the Scriptures and learning the stories of God’s faithfulness from generation to generation.

Then one day the angel Gabriel came to her with a calling she could never have expected.

Mary did not know everything that her answer would mean. She did not know all the sorrow she would eventually face, nor could she see the road that stretched from Nazareth to Bethlehem, Egypt, Jerusalem, and finally the foot of the cross.

Still, she said yes.

“Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

Faith like that usually does not appear overnight. Somewhere along the way, someone had taught Mary to trust God. Someone had told her the stories. Someone had prayed with her. Someone had helped form the faith that enabled this young woman to place her future into the hands of God.

On September 8, many Christians throughout the Anglican Communion celebrate the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. We remember not only Mary’s birth, but the quiet ways in which God prepares people long before their purpose becomes visible.

The same is true in our own lives.

A parent teaches a child to pray. A grandparent tells the old Bible stories. A Sunday school teacher plants a seed. A priest, pastor, deacon, teacher, or friend speaks a word of encouragement. Often they never know what will grow from what they have planted.

Most of God’s work begins quietly.

We may never see the full influence our faith has upon another person. We may never know how a prayer, a lesson, a kind word, or a faithful example becomes part of someone else’s journey with God.

And sometimes we are the ones being prepared.

God may be shaping us today for a calling we cannot yet see. When that moment comes, may we have learned, as Mary had learned, that God can be trusted.

And may we have the courage to say:

“Let it be with me according to your word.”

Prayer

Gracious God, we give you thanks for Mary, the mother of our Lord, for her faith, courage, and willing obedience. We thank you for all those who helped form her faith, and for those who have helped form ours.

Help us to plant seeds of faith in the lives of others, even when we may never see the harvest. Prepare our hearts to hear your voice, and when you call us into places we do not fully understand, give us the courage to trust you and say yes.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Closing Thought

God often begins his greatest work quietly, preparing ordinary people long before they know where their faithful “yes” will lead.

Kassiani, Poet and Hymnographer, 865

 

Kassiani, Poet and Hymnographer

Kassiani holds a remarkable place in the history of the Church. She is the only woman whose writings appear in the official liturgies of the Orthodox Church and one of only two Byzantine women whose works have come down to us under her own name. Born into a wealthy family in Constantinople sometime before the year 810, Kassiani received an education that was unusual even among the privileged of her day. She studied both secular and sacred subjects and, while still quite young, earned the respect of bishops and monastic leaders for her knowledge, intelligence, and skill as a writer. Among those who recognized her gifts was Theodore the Studite, one of the leading churchmen of the age.

Kassiani is perhaps best remembered today for a story surrounding the search for a wife for the Byzantine emperor Theophilos. According to several Byzantine chroniclers, after the death of Emperor Michael II, a gathering of eligible young women was arranged so that Theophilos might choose an empress. Kassiani was among the final candidates.

Following an ancient custom, Theophilos carried a golden apple that he would present to the woman he selected. When he approached Kassiani, he reportedly said, referring to Eve, “From woman came our corruption.” Kassiani was not intimidated by the emperor. She immediately replied, referring to the Virgin Mary, “But from woman also came our exaltation.”

Apparently, Theophilos was not prepared for a woman who could answer him so quickly and theologically. He moved on and presented the golden apple to Theodora, who became empress.

Kassiani seems to have regarded the outcome with considerably more relief than disappointment. Rather than entering the imperial court, she embraced the monastic life and devoted herself to prayer, study, music, writing, and service to the Church. In time, she became known not only for her literary and musical abilities but also for her courage. During the bitter controversies surrounding the use and veneration of icons, Kassiani openly defended the traditional Christian practice despite the dangers involved.

One short line attributed to her captures something of the strength of her character: “I hate silence, when it is time to speak.”

By around 843, Kassiani had founded a convent on Xerólophos, the seventh hill of Constantinople, where she became its first abbess. There she continued the work for which she would be remembered for more than a thousand years. Kassiani became one of the great hymnographers and poets of the Byzantine Church.

Hundreds of verses associated with her have survived, along with approximately fifty hymns containing both her words and musical compositions. At least twenty-three of those hymns found their way into the liturgical books of the Orthodox Church.

Her best-known work is the Hymn of Kassiani, traditionally sung during Holy Week on the eve of Holy Wednesday. Long after emperors and imperial courts disappeared, the words of the young woman who once refused to be silenced continued to be sung in churches.

Perhaps that is the most fitting legacy Kassiani could have left. She came close to becoming an empress, but instead became something far more enduring—a woman whose faith, courage, poetry, and music have helped generations of Christians worship God.

Paul Jones, Bishop, 1941 — Conscience, Courage, and Peace

 

Paul Jones, Bishop, 1941 — Conscience, Courage, and Peace

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” — Matthew 5:9

The Church remembers Paul Jones, Bishop and Peace Advocate, a man whose Christian convictions eventually cost him the office he had been called to serve.

Paul Jones was born in 1880 in the rectory of St. Stephen’s Church in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. After graduating from Yale University and the Episcopal Theological School in Cambridge, Massachusetts, he answered a call to missionary service in Utah. In 1914, he became Bishop of the Missionary District of Utah, just as the world was entering the terrible conflict of World War I.

Jones worked faithfully to strengthen the Church’s mission and institutions. Yet as the war continued, he became increasingly convinced that participation in war was incompatible with the teachings of Jesus Christ. In 1917, he stated publicly that “war is unchristian.” Those words brought fierce criticism and eventually an investigation by the House of Bishops.

The commission rejected his position and recommended that he resign. Under great pressure, Jones stepped down as Bishop of Utah in 1918.

Yet he did not abandon the Church, nor did he abandon the convictions of his conscience. In his farewell, he wrote, “Where I serve the Church is of small importance, so long as I can make my life count in the cause of Christ.”

There is something deeply challenging in those words.

Most of us would like faithfulness to Christ and acceptance by others to go together. We would prefer that following Jesus never cost us a friendship, a position, a reputation, or a place of influence. But the Gospel never promises us that kind of discipleship.

Paul Jones reminds us that Christian conscience must ultimately answer to Christ.

That does not mean that every Christian will reach the same conclusion on every difficult moral question. Faithful Christians have disagreed about war throughout the history of the Church. But Jones forces us to ask whether our convictions are truly shaped by the Gospel or merely by what is popular, patriotic, convenient, or expected of us.

There is also something deeply Anglican in his witness. He remained within the Church even after the Church had wounded him. He did not respond with bitterness or abandon his vocation. Instead, he continued working for peace, reconciliation, and the freedom of Christian conscience.

He understood that ministry was not ultimately about holding an office. It was about making his life count “in the cause of Christ.”

That is a question worth carrying with us today.

Reflection

 
Where I serve Christ may change. The position I hold may change. The approval of others may come and go. But the call to follow Jesus remains.

Paul Jones challenges us to examine the relationship between our faith and our conscience. Am I willing to follow Christ when doing so is unpopular? Do I listen carefully to Christians who reach difficult conclusions different from my own? And when conflict comes, can I hold firmly to conviction without surrendering gentleness, charity, and love?

Peacemaking is more than avoiding conflict. It is the difficult work of reconciliation, truth-telling, mercy, and refusing to let hatred have the final word.

On this September 4, we give thanks for Bishop Paul Jones and for all those who have reminded the Church that faithfulness sometimes carries a cost. May God give us courage to follow Christ wherever he leads—and grace to do so without bitterness toward those who disagree with us.

Prayer

 
Almighty God, you called your servant Paul Jones to serve your Church and to bear witness to the peace of your kingdom.

Give us courage to follow Jesus Christ when the way is difficult, wisdom to discern what faithfulness requires, and humility to listen to those whose consciences lead them differently from our own.

Make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, teach us to love; where there is division, make us agents of reconciliation; and where fear silences the truth, give us courage to speak with both conviction and grace.

Help us to remember that position and recognition are temporary, but our calling to serve Christ endures.

May our lives, like that of Paul Jones, count in the cause of Christ.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord, the Prince of Peace. Amen.

Phoebe, Deacon

 

Phoebe, Deacon

Phoebe is mentioned only once in the New Testament, near the close of Paul’s Letter to the Romans. Yet in just a few verses, Paul gives us enough to recognize her as a trusted and important servant of the early Church. He commends to the Christians in Rome “our sister Phoebe,” describing her as a deacon of the church at Cenchreae, the port city near Corinth, and as a benefactor who supported not only many Christians but Paul himself.

Because Paul introduces Phoebe as he does in Romans 16:1–2, many scholars have suggested that she may have been the person entrusted with carrying Paul’s letter to Rome. If so, that responsibility would tell us something significant about the confidence Paul placed in her. In the ancient world, the person carrying a letter often did far more than simply deliver it. The messenger could be expected to explain its circumstances, answer questions, and help its hearers understand the sender’s meaning. Paul also instructs the Roman Christians to welcome Phoebe in the Lord and to assist her with whatever she might need, suggesting that she may have had work of her own to accomplish while she was there.

We do not know what became of Phoebe or how extensive her ministry was. Scripture gives us only this brief glimpse of her life. Yet even that glimpse reminds us that the spread of the Gospel was never Paul's work alone. Behind the names we remember—Paul, Peter, Luke, Timothy, and others—stood countless faithful women and men who prayed, traveled, opened their homes, gave from their resources, carried letters, supported missionaries, served local congregations, and quietly helped take the Good News of Jesus Christ throughout the Roman world.

Phoebe represents many of those faithful servants whose stories have largely been lost to history but whose work was known to God. Her brief appearance in Romans reminds us that some of the most important work in the Kingdom of God is done without recognition or applause. The Gospel has always moved forward through ordinary people willing to answer God’s call, serve faithfully where they are needed, and trust that God can use even seemingly unnoticed acts of obedience for purposes far greater than they may ever see.

Verse of the Day for Friday, August 21, 2026

 

Verse of the Day for August 21, 2026

Ecclesiastes 3:1

Faithful in Every Season

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”

The Word Before Us

Life does not remain in one place for very long. Seasons begin, unfold, and eventually give way to something new. There are seasons of activity and seasons of waiting, seasons when doors open and seasons when familiar doors close. We experience beginnings and endings, gains and losses, laughter and tears. Some changes arrive with anticipation; others come before we feel ready.

Ecclesiastes reminds us that this changing rhythm is part of life “under heaven.” We cannot hold every season in place, no matter how much we may wish to. Nor can we always hurry into the next one. There are times when faith means stepping forward, and there are times when faith means remaining where we are and trusting God there.

The comforting truth is not that every season will be easy. Scripture makes no such promise. The comfort is that our changing circumstances do not place us beyond God's presence. The season changes, but God does not. We may not know what tomorrow will bring, but we can entrust tomorrow to the One who already holds it.

Understanding the Context

Ecclesiastes speaks primarily through the voice of “the Preacher,” introduced at the beginning of the book as “the son of David, king in Jerusalem.” The speaker is traditionally associated with Solomon, although Ecclesiastes itself does not explicitly give Solomon's name. He speaks as a wise observer who has examined work, pleasure, possessions, wisdom, achievement, mortality, and the passing nature of human life.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 introduces one of the best-known passages in the book. The verses that follow describe the many contrasting seasons of human existence: birth and death, planting and uprooting, weeping and laughing, mourning and dancing, silence and speaking, war and peace. The Preacher is looking honestly at life as it actually unfolds rather than as we might wish it would.

The larger passage is especially important. After describing these changing seasons, the Preacher turns our attention toward God. He recognizes that God has made everything beautiful in its time, while also acknowledging that human beings cannot comprehend the whole of God's work from beginning to end. We live inside the unfolding story; God sees what we cannot see.

That makes Ecclesiastes 3:1 more than a poetic observation about change. It is an invitation to humility. We do not control time, and we do not always understand what God is doing within it.

Living the Verse Today

Most of us have seasons we would gladly keep and others we would gladly escape. When life is peaceful, we want to preserve it. When life becomes painful, uncertain, or lonely, we want the calendar to move faster. Ecclesiastes teaches us that wisdom is found neither in clinging desperately to yesterday nor in trying to force tomorrow to arrive.

Christian faith calls us to meet God in the season we have actually been given.

Perhaps you are beginning something new—a ministry, relationship, responsibility, course of study, or opportunity you never expected. Receive the new season prayerfully. You do not need to know everything that lies ahead before taking the next faithful step.

Perhaps something meaningful is ending. A role that once defined your days may be changing. Someone you love may be gone. Your health, circumstances, abilities, or responsibilities may no longer be what they once were. Ecclesiastes gives us permission to acknowledge the loss. There is “a time to weep” and “a time to mourn.” Faith does not require pretending that endings do not hurt.

But an ending is not evidence that God has abandoned His purposes.

The question is not simply, “How can I get back to the season I had?” It may be, “Lord, how can I be faithful to You in the season that is here now?”

We can pray for enough grace for today, enough wisdom for the decision before us, and enough trust to leave what we cannot see in God's hands. We can give thanks for seasons that have passed without trying to live in them forever. And we can enter new seasons without demanding that God reveal the entire road ahead.

There is a time for every purpose under heaven. Whatever season you find yourself in today, God is already there.

Reflection

What season of life are you in today, and what might faithfulness to God look like within this season rather than the one you wish you were in?

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Scripture quotations are from the public-domain World English Bible (WEB). Verse selections are accessed through BibleGateway.com. Commentary © 2026 Kenny Sallee, ThM. All rights reserved.

Daily Devotions for Friday, August 21, 2026: When One Season Gives Way to Another

 

The Daily Devotional

Friday, August 21, 2026

When One Season Gives Way to Another

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.” — Ecclesiastes 3:1

Reflection

Some passages of Scripture become especially meaningful when life reaches a turning point. Ecclesiastes reminds us that our lives unfold in seasons. Some seasons call us to begin something new. Others ask us to persevere. Still others invite us to recognize that a particular work has served its purpose and that God may now be directing our attention somewhere else.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven.”

Those words are not simply about the passing of time. They are about learning to recognize that faithful living sometimes requires change. We may become comfortable with a particular routine, ministry, responsibility, or pattern of service, but faithfulness does not always mean continuing indefinitely. Sometimes it means asking whether the time has come to invest our energy in another place.

We see this even in ordinary life outside the church.

A farmer may cultivate the same field year after year, but there eventually comes a time when the soil needs rest or when another crop should be planted. Continuing to scatter the same seed simply because it has always been planted there may not be wise stewardship. The farmer does not conclude that planting was a mistake. The harvests of earlier seasons still mattered. Instead, the farmer studies the field, considers the season, and decides where effort and resources can now be used most fruitfully.

Much of Christian life requires that same kind of discernment.

For some time, I have written daily devotionals and Verse of the Day teachings for St. Luke’s, hoping they would provide encouragement, biblical reflection, and spiritual nourishment for members of our congregation and others who encountered them. Writing them has also been meaningful to me because the discipline of opening Scripture each day, studying its context, and considering how it speaks to ordinary life continually deepens my own faith.

At the same time, the readership for these daily writings within St. Luke’s has remained quite small. That does not diminish the value of anyone who has read them, shared them, or found encouragement through them. If even one person has been drawn closer to Christ through something I have written, then the effort has been worthwhile.

But stewardship also means paying attention to where our time and energy may now be most effectively invested.

I am entering another season of theological study as I prepare to pursue a PhD in Biblical Studies. That work will require considerable time for reading, research, writing, language and biblical study, and sustained reflection on Scripture. After considering how best to balance those responsibilities, I have decided to discontinue writing the daily devotionals and Verse of the Day teachings for Ichthus Ministries and devote that time more intentionally to my academic studies.

I do not see this as stepping away from Scripture. In many ways, it is precisely the opposite.

The purpose of biblical study is not simply to accumulate information. Scripture is meant to shape our understanding of God, deepen our relationship with Christ, strengthen the Church, and help us speak faithfully about the hope we have received. Academic study becomes spiritually meaningful when learning leads to wisdom, worship, humility, and service.

There is also an important lesson here for all of us.

We sometimes measure faithfulness by how long we continue doing something. Yet Scripture repeatedly shows people being called from one place of service into another. Abraham left familiar ground. Moses moved from shepherding sheep to leading Israel. The disciples left their nets. Paul traveled from city to city as opportunities for ministry changed.

The question is not always, “How can I keep doing what I have been doing?”

Sometimes the better question is, “Where is God asking me to invest myself now?”

That is a question worth carrying into our own daily lives. Perhaps there is something you have been doing simply because you have always done it. Perhaps there is another opportunity to learn, serve, encourage someone, deepen a relationship, or grow spiritually that deserves more attention.

Not every change represents an ending. Sometimes it represents a redirection.

The daily devotionals may be concluding at Ichthus Ministries, but the study of Scripture continues. The desire to teach continues. The calling to encourage others in the Christian faith continues. What changes is simply where the time and effort will be concentrated during this next season.

Ecclesiastes teaches us that there is “a time for every purpose under heaven.” Wisdom lies partly in recognizing the purpose of the present season.

I am grateful for everyone who has taken the time to read these devotionals and Verse of the Day reflections, and especially for those who have offered encouragement along the way. My hope is that whatever has been helpful in them will continue to bear fruit.

And as one season gives way to another, perhaps the invitation for all of us is the same: to remain attentive to God, faithful in the work placed before us, and willing to follow wherever the next season may lead.

Prayer

Gracious God, you are present with us through every season of our lives. Give us wisdom to recognize when you are calling us to continue, when you are asking us to change direction, and when you are opening a new path before us. Help us to receive every opportunity to learn, serve, and grow as a gift from you. Bless the work that has been completed, guide the work that is beginning, and keep our hearts centered upon Christ so that whatever we do may deepen our faith and become a blessing to others. Lead each of us faithfully through the season before us, trusting that your purposes extend far beyond what we can presently see. Amen.

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Scripture quotations are from the World English Bible Classic (WEB), a public-domain translation. Original devotional content © 2026 Kenny Sallee, ThM. All rights reserved.