February 27: Luke 5–9

By Carolyn Jones

Jesus preached about the kingdom of God (or heaven). He was not talking politics, but was speaking of the governance of the Divine and the Eternal in an individual life—or the life of a community or a nation. This meant a conscious choice to be ruled by God. That kingdom, Jesus said, is available to this generation, tainted as it is with evil. It has been present to every generation, even in times of famine or invasion, as known by Elijah, or Elisha or Isaiah. But this kingdom must be expressed by ministering to others, especially the poor, the oppressed, the captives, the hungry. And this Divine Presence is available and present in our generation, if we will claim it.

February 26: Luke 1–4

By Darrell Pursiful

Although Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus usually gets better press, I’m partial to Luke’s. With its eleven sets of seven names, it is at least as elaborately balanced as Matthews 3x14 structure. As with Matthew, many of them are of people nobody has ever heard of. Also like Matthew, Luke names the great heroes of the Bible.

Unlike Matthew, Luke takes us all the way to the beginning: all the way to Adam himself. I suspect that is Luke’s subtle way of telling us that Jesus is for everybody, every child of Adam’s race—even shepherds, soldiers, sinners, Sidonian widows, and Syrian lepers.

February 25: Mark 12–16

By Barbara Newton


“Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks, the good person out of his good treasure brings forth good and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. I tell you on the Day of Judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak. By your words you will be justified and by your words you will be condemned.” (Mt 12:34-37)

It continues to startle me when a patient quotes something I said in an earlier therapy session. It reminds me they are sometimes listening and even hearing what I say. But my mouth has times when it is not talking "out of the abundance of my heart." I try to have those moments with my confidante husband or closest friends. I try to limit them to when I need to let off some steam, or want to make a point or get you to do what I want you to do.

The words that we say take on a life of their own after they are spoken. They can reach far beyond what is intended whether out of the abundance of our hearts or not. They can travel and heal or travel and hurt.  Jesus knew the power of words and taught us repeatedly to use caution and opportunity to make the most of them.

February 24: Mark 7–11

By Bob Setzer

In Mark 7:31-37, Jesus encounters a deaf man with a speech impediment. He takes the sufferer aside and creates a circle of privacy away from the gawking crowd. Jesus puts his fingers into the man’s ears and touches his tongue with a saliva-tipped finger. These gestures create a deep, intimate bond with the man and excites his expectation.

Jesus looks up to heaven and sighs, deeply troubled by the man’s suffering. Then he says in Aramaic, his native tongue, "Ephphatha!" that is, "Be opened." At Jesus’ touch and command, the man’s ears are opened and his tongue set free.

As with all Jesus’ miracles, the physical miracle is an expression of the deeper, spiritual healing Jesus comes to give. It is our ears Jesus longs to open, and hence he cries again and again, "Let the one with ears to hear, hear!"

What is it Jesus wants us to hear? What is it Jesus wants you to hear? In listening to your New Testament, pay attention to what speaks to you. That may be Jesus breaking through.

February 23: Mark 1–6

By Rebecca Pursiful

My favorite part was when Jesus made the wind just stop in thin air! I liked this story in particular because Jesus shows his power, and that just kind of makes it fun. In this story you learn that God is always with you wherever you go and you can always trust him. I think people should always listen to God and follow their heart.

February 22: Matthew 25–28

By Zach Kincaid

Today's reading takes us from the rooms of expectancy, oiled by some who prepare and other who neglect the coming king (Mt 25), to the refrain said one last time, "Do not be afraid," by the resurrected Jesus (Mt 28). It is a tale that produces sinister villains in Judas and Pilate and the gentleness of the women who never climb into a hidey-hole and pray that this cup will pass, no matter what.

It's in that hole where we have the doubting disciples and the stench of Peter eating crow—and rooster, too—that I find myself so often. I may at times bear the coldness of Pilate's water, baptizing my hands and not my soul. I may truly take up a Mary's early pilgrimage, donning a new hope no matter the seen reality. But it's the middle camp, the pathetic "You are the Son of the Living God" ... but what does that mean (?), that I stumble into so often.

Is this true of you, too? As Luke says (20:18), may we stumble and be broken to pieces rather than fall and be crushed. Then, he'll help us take up our cross and go tell a dying world about a living God.

February 20: Matthew 19-24

By Lanta Cooper

In Matthew 24, the disciples ask when the Son of Man will return, and Jesus says "concerning that day and hour, no one knows." The disciples are anxious to know what to expect and when to expect it, but they are given an answer that places them in a state of anticipation. As followers of Christ, we, too, are in a state of anticipation as we try to understand the kingdom of God. But how are we to respond to this anticipation? Jesus tells us that it is not important for us to know the timing of the kingdom, but to understand how we can faithfully participate in the the kingdom in the present. We are given the opportunity each day to live out the grace of God by active involvement in the furthering of God's kingdom. May our response be to live as Christ did in the world and share the joy of the kingdom of God.

February 19: Matthew 13–18

By David Cooke

Jesus’ followers—both the originals back in the day and the ones he has now—have never really gotten it. It began in his hometown, where no one would accept Jesus as the Messiah because they knew his daddy and his mama. His disciples didn’t proclaim him to be God’s son until they saw him walk on water—feeding 5,000 folks dinner hadn’t been enough proof, I guess.

But even after seeing the miracles, no one understood that following Jesus did not mean riding his coattails to a better job. No one accepted his plain words that following him meant carrying a cross that would kill them. They all thought they’d get a royal robe instead of a servant’s apron.

Today, when we picture our lives as Christ-like, we often try to mold ourselves into a person that “doesn’t”: doesn’t cuss, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t tell certain jokes, or watch certain movies or read certain books. A life of not doing things, where it’s better to do nothing, otherwise you might sin.

Jesus’ life was a life of action: feeding, healing, welcoming, and loving. Maybe if we spent our time doing what he did, we might finally start to get it.

February 18: Matthew 8–12

By Gwen Colwell

The large number of miracles in this passage impressed me. My favorite is in chapter 8 when Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee for the fearful, pleading disciples. His “Peace Be Still” brought peace not only to the raging waters but also to the raging inside the terrified followers.

I vividly recall facing surgery at Duke Hospital about thirty-three years ago for which the outcome was uncertain. It was delayed that day. I was terrified like the disciples and prayed for the presence of Jesus. Peace came and all was well.

“Lord Jesus, in the storms of life, continue to give us the miracle of your peace. Amen.”

February 17: Matthew 1–7

By Rick Wilson

Matthew comes at us at a furious pace. He climbs a family tree that shades two millennia. He rushes through the drama of the birth of Jesus and its aftermath. Before we know it, Jesus’ ministry flourishes and the Sermon on the Mount is done.

There is respite, however. Matthew lures us into the wilderness with Jesus. That is what Lent is about. On Ash Wednesday we can see the luminous crooked finger of Matthew beckoning us. In the wilderness we have a chance to find ourselves as the “light of the world” (5:14) that Jesus says we truly are.