Becoming Lowly

On the last night of his life, at his last supper, Jesus puts into words what we’ve seen throughout the entire Gospel. This is what he’s done in befriending outsiders and outcasts, in seeking to lift up the lowly. He came as a servant-king. Everything we’ve seen to this point in the Gospel is a picture of Jesus doing what finally now he puts into words. He gave himself to love, heal, and care for the broken and hurting. He sought to show mercy and grace to the marginalized and those far from God. He came to see those who were often overlooked or unseen. And if he did that for us, as his disciples this must be our posture and the mission we are called to as well. This is what it means to be his disciple: we follow him, and we lift up the lowly.

Lifting up the lowly requires becoming lowly. Greatness is defined by lowering ourselves and serving others. In our world, this is utterly countercultural, but it is absolutely the culture of the Kingdom.

If the disciples, who spent three years with Jesus, were still focused on status and power at the Last Supper, it should not surprise us that we struggle with those same things at times as well. But nearly every one of the conversations Jesus had over his final week were on this same theme. He encouraged a rich young ruler to lay down the source of his status. He blessed and healed a blind beggar. He befriended a wealthy and powerful tax collector who gave up half of what he had to the poor. He praised the poor widow while castigating the powerful and status-loving religious elite. “The greatest among you must become like a person of lower status and the leader like a servant” (Luke 22:6).

–Adam Hamilton, Luke: Jesus and the Outsiders, Outcasts, and Outlaws, p. 107

Photo: pink Mandevilla flowers, August 6, 2025.

Made in the Image of God

When civilization has flourished, when great music, art, and literature have emerged, it’s always when human beings have felt good about being human. Human is something great to be. Being human is just a little less than God (Ps. 8:5). That’s exactly what faith gives us, a kind of extraordinary dignity. It gives us a sense of our own meaning: religion calls us “sons and daughters of God.” If we can do nothing else, we can give that back to the world: that we are created in the image of God, we have come forth from God, and we will return to God. We reflect part of the mystery of God. We are unique and apparently will never be created again.

When we see that the world is enchanted, we see the revelation of God in each individual as individual. Then our job is not to be Mother Theresa, our job is not to be St. Francis – it’s to do what is ours to do. That, by the way, was Francis’s word as he lay dying. He said, “I have done what was mine to do; now you must do what is yours to do.” We must find out what part of the mystery it is ours to reflect. There is a unique truth that our lives alone can reflect. That’s the only true meaning of heroism as far as I can see. In this ego-comparison game, we have had centuries of Christians comparing themselves to the Mother Teresas of each age, saying that she was the only name for holiness. Thank God we have such images of holiness, but sometimes we don’t do God or the Gospel a service by spending our life comparing ourselves to others’ gifts and calls. All I can give back to God is what God has given to me – nothing more and no less!

— Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs, p. 96-97

Photo: South Riding, Virginia, December 25, 2024

Made to Be God’s Image

If you’ve ever felt the pull between being the woman you are and being the woman you think you’re supposed to be, if you’ve ever believed that the heart of God’s plan for us was doing more and trying harder — then this book is for you. I spent years and years tangled in the idea that I needed to measure up to the women around me, that I needed to fit in and look the part and check the boxes all to somehow prove that I loved God enough, that I was godly enough. I didn’t understand who I was created to be or how I was to live that out, and, as a result, I was left sinking in shame instead. But that is not God’s plan for us. His plan is not for shame but for freedom, not for comparison but for flourishing; his plan is that we be his image.

— Elizabeth Garn, Freedom to Flourish, p. 13

Photo: Bull Run Regional Park, Virginia, March 29, 2024

Wrestling

To read the Bible’s hardest passages is like wrestling with God, much like Jacob who wrestled through the night at the river Jabbok. You grapple to make sense of the words, you hold on, you struggle for clarity, you seek to wrest answers for all your questions. What God gives you instead of a system of answers is a blessing, a new name — a living relationship. You are forever changed by the encounter. You have seen the face of God.

— Barbara R. Rossing, The Rapture Exposed, p. 186

Photo: South Riding, Virginia, May 9, 2020

Resurrecting Word

To those who believe, the call from the depths of their relationship with God is to bend every effort to stand with God in solidarity with those who suffer; to right the wrongs, counter injustice, relieve the pain, and create situations where life can flourish. Then a resurrecting word can gain a foothold in this fractured world.

— Elizabeth A. Johnson, Creation and the Cross, p. 108

Photo: South Riding, Virginia, May 3, 2020

Savoring, Not Saving

We always seem to be faced with this choice: to save the world or savor it. I want to propose that savoring is better, and that when we seek to “save” and “contribute” and “give back” and “rescue” folks and EVEN “make a difference,” then it is all about you . . . and the world stays stuck. The homies are not waiting to be saved. They already are. The same is true for service providers and those in any ministry. The good news, of course, is that when we choose to “savor” the world, it gets saved. Don’t set out to change the world. Set out to wonder how people are doing.

— Gregory Boyle, Barking to the Choir, p. 174-175

Photo:  South Riding, Virginia, September 1, 2019

Make Art

And remember that whatever discipline you are in, whether you are a musician or a photographer, a fine artist or a cartoonist, a writer, a dancer, a designer, whatever you do, you have one thing that’s unique.

You have the ability to make art.

— Neil Gaiman, Art Matters, “Make Good Art”

Photo: Burg Lahneck, Germany, August 22, 2004