We will worship together via zoom at 500 on Sunday. Click here to participate.

Our midtown parish group (hosted by the Thompsons and Soren) will meet for prayer at 8 pm on Thursday (today). Click here to participate, even if you never have before!

Our downtown parish group will meet for prayer next week (details to be announced).

To see the rest of our daily devotionals, with prayers, songs and reflections, click here. To sign up for daily emails, click here.

Prayers

Morning
1. Readings
  1. Old Testament: Isaiah 40:6-8
  2. Psalm: 69:1-23
2. Prayer: The Lord's Prayer
3. Hymn: Come Thou Fount
Evening
1. Readings
  1. New Testament: Mark 8:27-9:1
  2. Psalm: 73
2. Hymn: Abide With Me
3. Prayer: Psalm 138:7-8 (below)

Devotional on Isaiah 40:6-8, from Rev. Martin Antoon:
If there is one word that encapsulates how we feel about our current patterns and expectations of life, it is “uncertainty.” It isn’t just that we don’t know how long things are going to last or how far along doctors and scientists are developing vaccines or learning new information, we don’t even know what big announcement might even come tomorrow that will even more drastically shape our lives. Our routines are different as we stay at home. Our jobs look different. School looks different. Relationships look different. If you walk outside, our city has an eerie aura that simultaneously feels part ghost town and part apocalyptic hysteria. We want to do even the simple things that accompany the feeling of stability – sitting at our favorite coffee shop, going to the beach, even going to church – but we can’t. We can’t plan because we don’t even know what changes might happen. Life is uncertain right now. Maybe that's why we are buying all the guns?

If we were to rewind about 3,700 years, we would find a lot in common with the Israelites. Their uncertainty wasn’t in the form of pandemic. It was the Assyrians. The foreign power was closing in, and exile was on the horizon. Just like us, they were filled with questions that had no answers. “Where will we go?” “How will I care for my family?” “How does God’s goodness fit into this situation?” Perhaps the setting feels familiar to you. It is into these questions the prophet Isaiah writes. After 39 chapters of exposing Israel’s idolatry of security, Isaiah brings a glorious promise of hope. He recognizes what we are currently experiencing alongside the Israelites. The grass withers and the flower fades. Or maybe for our purposes, “the global health withers and economic security fades.” But the word of our God will stand forever. There is security in the promised word of God because the promised word becomes flesh. The promise isn’t an abstract ideology, but rather, a crucified savior. The uncertainty of our current lives is no more real than the certainty of the empty tomb.

What if we could, in spite of all the difficulties, embrace the uncertainty? I wonder how that would shape our belief that the word of God will stand forever. Is it possible that we could practice what we have taught ourselves to profess? If you’ve ever been in the exciting-yet-terrifying position of buying an engagement ring, you probably experienced something interesting. The jeweler shows a few diamonds at first, and to the untrained eye (which happens to be 100% of prospective grooms), they look pretty good. But then she brings out the real deal, and its shine reveals the others as vastly inferior. It’s not that the other diamonds weren’t good, they just don’t compare to the real deal. It’s not that our familiar sources of comfort aren’t good, they are now simply being compared to the real thing. By embracing our current uncertainty, we can begin to see what it truly means to have perfect security united to Christ.

For discussion:
1. What am I tempted to clutch at in the midst of uncertainty? Sometimes this comes out in "at least..." as in, "At least I still have ____"?
2. How do we respond to others who are feeling uncertain? Why is it so tempting to point them to false certainties?
3. How might trust in Jesus empower us to let go of "at least?"

A prayer for presence, from Psalm 138:

   [7] Though I walk in the midst of trouble,
       you preserve my life;
   you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies,
       and your right hand delivers me.
   [8] The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me;
       your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever.
       Do not forsake the work of your hands. (ESV)