Elpis and Shalom

46 And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, 47  and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48  for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49  for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50  And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51  He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; 52  he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; 53  he has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich he has sent away empty. 54  He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55  as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to his offspring forever.”

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Lk 1:46–55.

Music and poetry have long served as vehicles to reveal the hidden depths of the human heart, using melody and lyric to convey emotions that mere prose cannot capture. While genres like country and folk are often credited with emotional storytelling, worship music holds a distinct purpose: it is written not only to invoke an emotional connection with the Almighty but to lay the believer bare in humility before Him. During Advent, we look to the song of Mary known as the Magnificat as the ultimate expression of this posture. To understand her song, one must first understand the singer. Mary was not a queen safe in a palace, but a poor teenager from an obscure village, marginalized by the mighty Roman Empire and facing a potentially life-threatening scandal. She was pregnant, unmarried, and powerless, possessing a story the world would likely dismiss or disgrace. Yet, in the face of fear and rigid social codes, Mary chose to sing a radical anthem of joy. This joy was not a result of her circumstances, but a theological outpouring allergic to pride; it was the joy that comes when one steps back to admire all that God has brought through Christ Jesus.

This radical joy is rooted in a profound humility that seeks to magnify God rather than the self. When Mary declares, “My soul magnifies the Lord,” (Luke 1:46), she does not mean she is making God larger, as He is already infinite, but rather that she is extolling Him to make His greatness visible and clear to others. Just as a magnifying glass makes an object clearer to an observer, Mary’s humble life becomes the lens through which the world sees God. This praise is structurally and thematically parallel to the song of Hannah in 1 Samuel, revealing that Mary’s mind was saturated in the Scriptures. She weaves together concepts from the Psalms, Isaiah, and the Torah, placing her own story within the continuum of Israel’s history. In a modern culture obsessed with self-magnification and brand-building, Mary invites us to a counter-cultural shift: honestly acknowledging our spiritual poverty and finding gladness in our absolute dependence on God. It is this posture of humility that serves as the fertile ground for the revolution of God’s kingdom.

The content of Mary’s praise provides a rich articulation of God’s character, celebrating Him as Savior, Mighty, Holy, Merciful, and Faithful. Her declaration identifies the “Mighty One” as the God of the Exodus who performs great miracles, now demonstrated through the virgin conception. She recognizes that His holiness is what necessitates salvation, and His mercy is the active faithfulness extended to those who fear Him with the utmost reverence and awe. Crucially, Mary anchors the birth of Jesus in the ancient, unconditional covenant God made with Abraham, understanding that the Incarnation is not an isolated miracle but the fulfillment of a redemptive plan for the entire world. By connecting her personal experience to Abraham, Mary transcends her own moment in history, offering a timeless assurance that God remembers His mercy. Thus, the song is not an abstract expression; instead, it demonstrates that God is faithful across generations and that His character is the foundation of all hope.

Through the Magnificat, God’s nature is revealed to have radical, concrete consequences for the world’s social and political order. Mary operates as a prophet, delivering a message promoting and unveiling a significant reversal that reorders values where the powerful are brought down, and the lowly are lifted up. She speaks of these revolutionary acts in the past tense, “He has scattered… He has put down,” even though it appears that the proud still sat on their thrones. With the eyes of faith, Mary sees that God’s choice of a poor maiden from Nazareth is the decisive invasion of history; the victory is guaranteed because the King is already in her womb. For the marginalized, this is an anthem of liberation, but for the comfortable, it is a challenge to find freedom not in status, but in joining God’s work. The Incarnation signals that the world is being turned right-side up, acting as an earthquake at dawn that shatters human schemes and establishes a kingdom operating on principles opposite to the world.

Mary’s song serves as the enduring template for Christian worship and leadership. It challenges us to move beyond a superficial Christmas spirit and embrace the call from Mary’s song: to lead from humility, actively pursue justice for the oppressed, and rely on God’s faithfulness. True worship requires our joy to be made complete by removing pride and focusing entirely on the character and actions of God. This Advent, we are called to reject the joy of cozy nostalgia and instead practice the revolutionary joy Mary proclaimed. We must consciously shift our focus away from ourselves, finding practical ways to “exalt the lowly” through charity and advocacy, and anchoring our hearts in the promises of Scripture. By doing so, we participate in the holy disruption of the gospel, testifying that God is indeed saving His people just as He promised.

1  Give the king your justice, O God, and your righteousness to the royal son! 

2  May he judge your people with righteousness, and your poor with justice! 

3  Let the mountains bear prosperity for the people, and the hills, in righteousness! 

4  May he defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the children of the needy, and crush the oppressor! 

5  May they fear you while the sun endures, and as long as the moon, throughout all generations! 

6  May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the earth! 

7  In his days may the righteous flourish, and peace abound, till the moon be no more!

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Ps 72:1–7.

In a world defined by conflict and division, the peace we often witness is nothing more than a fragile, temporary truce maintained by negotiation or a delicate balance of power. However, the season of Advent invites us to look beyond these secular versions of stability toward the deep, holistic peace promised in Scripture: shalom. Unlike a mere cessation of hostilities, shalom represents comprehensive well-being, wholeness, and universal flourishing. While King Solomon, whose very name, Shlomo, means “peace,” enjoyed a reign that extended from the Euphrates to the border of Egypt, even his dominion was ultimately marred by human failure. No earthly leader can perfectly sustain the lofty ideals of peace; thus, the genuine peace we await in Advent is not a passive state achieved by human hands, but a dynamic reality founded on divine justice and destined for universal dominion under Christ the King.

This biblical peace is not an abstract concept but the direct outflow of justice and righteousness. Psalm 72 establishes a non-negotiable theological sequence: true shalom can only exist when it is built upon the foundation of righteousness and justice. In the Hebrew imagination, righteousness is the ethical blueprint of God’s character, while justice is the active application of that standard to correct wrongs and restore community order. When a ruler governs according to these divine attributes, the result is a flourishing that permeates all of creation, where even the “mountains will bring peace to the people.” This imagery teaches us that shalom is not a man-made compromise, but a cosmic state of wholeness that blossoms organically from a rightly ordered society.

Furthermore, the credibility of this peace is measured by its impact on the most vulnerable members of society. The job description of the Just King is focused entirely on his unwavering commitment to the powerless, making the defense of the needy the engine of true peacemaking. Crime and oppression are not merely violations of abstract laws but violations of people; therefore, the King’s justice is restorative, seeking to rescue the victim and repair the harm done. By intervening on behalf of those who cannot defend themselves and reversing their powerlessness, the King provides the “truth-telling” necessary for healing. Consequently, our participation in Advent peace must move beyond sentimentality to the humble, determined work of intervention and advocacy for the downtrodden.

The hope we embrace during Advent is also global in scope, envisioning a transformation that reorders the entire world. The King’s influence is described as life-giving, descending “like rain upon the mown grass” to bring renewal to the earth. This justice is generative rather than zero-sum; it creates an environment where abundance and life flourish, symbolized by grain growing even on the tops of mountains. This vision of global submission is a missional mandate, inviting believers to participate in the expansion of the King’s reign. By supporting global missions and serving the needs of others, we bring tribute to our King, ensuring that His peaceful dominion extends to the farthest reaches of the earth.

Ultimately, true shalom is not a product of human compromise but the fruit of divine justice established by Christ. The recurring failures of earthly political systems serve as a reminder that our ultimate hope cannot rest in human hands but must be fixed steadfastly on the return of Jesus Christ, the only King possessing the perfect righteousness required to fulfill these promises. Yet, while we wait, we are called to reflect His character as agents of peace in a broken world. This Advent, by committing to defend the cause of the poor and championing laws that protect the vulnerable, we not only honor our King but offer the world a tangible foretaste of the eternal shalom that will define His coming reign.

100 A Psalm for giving thanks. 1  Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! 2  Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! 3  Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. 4  Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name! 5  For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Ps 100:title–5.

Many families have a myriad of traditions that they carry out during the Thanksgiving holiday here in the US. Most will cook some sort of poultry and have a number of sides, all gathering around the table for a meal. The people around that table might be family, friends, or in some cases complete strangers. There are a good number of people that carry out traditions that have survived through many generations. One of the great traditions that many partake in is volunteering at food kitchens every year, or that if there is anyone that needs a home for dinner most families will make an extra space for anyone that is not going to be near their family. Thanksgiving often brings the best out of many of us, and it is rooted within the sense that no matter what has happened we can find a spirit of thanksgiving for the blessings that we have experienced. This spirit of Thanksgiving has a long tradition within the worshipping community. It is with a sense of Thanksgiving that we are called to come to worship, and a sense of thanksgiving that reminds followers to lean upon God in all things. For the table of thanksgiving that we approach in worship has been set before us, and we are called to simply come. Just like at many a Thanksgiving table, the table that we approach with worship is open to anyone and everyone to experience the blessings of God.

For at the core of our worship lies the understanding that we are creatures made by a loving God, a truth that grounds our emotions in theological reality. Therefore, true worship must be cognitive to be effective; knowing that “the LORD, He is God” ensures that our right feelings are the goal of right thinking. This acknowledgment that God created us, and not of our own creative endeavors that establishes our existence as a created reality, thus shattering our self-realized pride while simultaneously affirming our value through the lens of redemption. We are not merely universal creatures but distinctively belong to the Creator and we are “the sheep of His pasture,” a metaphor that transitions our understanding from a distant Creator to an immanent Shepherd who offers sovereign care. Consequently, our worship is an inevitable, grateful response of a flock that recognizes the voice of the One who guides, protects, and provides.

This internal meditation on God’s character as Creator and Covenant Lord naturally propels us toward prescriptive, external action, for a heart filled with gratitude that cannot remain passive. The psalm commands us to “make a joyful shout”, a public, triumphant acclamation of God’s sovereignty that rejects private, quiet faith in favor of an external loud declaration. We are further instructed to “serve with gladness,” a directive that fuses submission to the Almighty with delighting in His goodness, thereby discarding reluctant legalism and affirming that a redeemed heart finds its highest pleasure in obedience. Finally, the summons to “enter” His gates marks the necessity of corporate, gathered worship, calling the covenant community out of their scattered lives to assemble in a consecrated space for the primary purpose of communal praise. Thus worship requires a multi-faceted understanding that we are a greater part of the plan of the Creation, and are not mere witnesses, but participants in worship.

Ultimately, this structure of worship serves as a dynamic pattern of covenant renewal that transforms both the worshiper and the surrounding community. Recognizing that our dignity is derived from God acts as a powerful antidote to both arrogance and despair; it declares that while the image of God in humanity may be defaced by sin, it is not eliminated, thus demanding that every person be treated with incalculable worth. While our culture is often dominated by criticism, this insistent call to joy serves as a counter-cultural protest song, redirecting our focus from fallible earthly powers to the one true King. Thus, our corporate gathering becomes the LORD’s service, a holy encounter where God meets with, serves, and renews His people, empowering us to bring transformation to the very geography where we worship.

For at its core worship and approaching God’s table begins with an understanding that we must be thankful for all the blessings God has bestowed upon us, including our very lives. That which outpours from that is pure and blessed worship that is prescriptive and life giving, which flows out of us as an active outpouring of grace, not just watching, but living out our thanksgiving. This in turn becomes action where we become those that bring a blessing to the poor, sharing the Gospel through our voices and our actions. The fact that our generosity comes out most when we celebrate Thanksgiving is no mistake, because it is when we take a thankful mindset we also put on the Gospel for the world to see and experience. This giving renews our community and cannot only happen during the holiday season but must be a focus and an outpouring of worship inside and outside the church. As we approach our Thanksgiving tables this week, we must remember that God calls us to giving thanks for all that the Almighty has done, and through our worship: meditating on God’s goodness, joyfully exalting, serving, and coming together we are able to glorify God and share with our world all that we have received and share with others the grace of the Gospel.

6 Now we command you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you keep away from any brother who is walking in idleness and not in accord with the tradition that you received from us. 7 For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us, because we were not idle when we were with you, 8 nor did we eat anyone’s bread without paying for it, but with toil and labor we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you. 9 It was not because we do not have that right, but to give you in ourselves an example to imitate. 10 For even when we were with you, we would give you this command: If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat. 11 For we hear that some among you walk in idleness, not busy at work, but busybodies. 12 Now such persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living. 13 As for you, brothers, do not grow weary in doing good.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), 2 Th 3:6–13.

The main reason many people dread group projects in school is the inevitable imbalance of effort; frequently, a minority of the students do the majority of the work while everyone receives the same grade. This dynamic breeds resentment, as the engaged student works tirelessly to ensure the team succeeds, while the disengaged student contributes nothing yet reaps the benefits. A similar tension was plaguing the church in Thessalonica, where some members were laboring for the community while others neglected their duties, perhaps assuming there was no point in working. Just as in a classroom, this disparity created deep fissures within the congregation. The hardworking members grew resentful, and the idlers, rather than helping, began criticizing those who were actually upholding the message of Christ. As we examine Paul’s message, we are forced to look within our own congregations and ask if we are allowing a similar division between active workers and passive recipients to damage our witness to the outside world.

The call of the Gospel is a call to participation, not spectatorship, because God’s work is never truly finished. In Thessalonica, the problem wasn’t a lack of opportunity or physical inability, but a willful unwillingness to work, likely stemming from a misguided belief that Christ’s imminent return made daily labor unnecessary. This mirrors a common issue in modern churches where a minority of the congregation often shoulders the majority of the service and financial giving. Paul warns against this consumerist mindset, urging the entire body to contribute to the good of the community. He didn’t just preach this; he lived it, inviting them to imitate his own refusal to be a burden. By working with his own hands, Paul moved his teaching from abstract theory to concrete reality, standing in sharp contrast to the destructive influence of those who had abandoned their responsibilities to live off the generosity of others.

There is a profound danger when idleness transforms into destructiveness; those who aren’t working for the common good often find time to complain about how things are done. Paul uses a clever play on words in the Greek, mēden ergazomenous alla periergazomenous, to describe these people not as busy workers, but as “busybodies” who mind everyone’s business but their own. Instead of contributing, they meddle, stirring up division and gossip that distracts leaders from the actual work of the Gospel. This unruly behavior is scandalous for those professing Christianity because it actively harms the church’s reputation among outsiders. Recognizing that such conduct is not in accord with the Gospel, Paul issues a strong command to withdraw from those walking in this disorderly manner, not to be cruel, but to protect the integrity of the work and prevent the disruption from spreading.

However, the goal of addressing this disorder is always redemptive; the intent is not to treat the offender as an enemy, but to admonish them as a brother to bring about restoration. While the topic of discipline is often uncomfortable in the modern church, a healthy community must know how to lovingly correct those who go astray so that the faithful do not grow weary in doing good. Ultimately, our faith is not an abstract belief but is demonstrated through practical, everyday diligence. By fulfilling our duties with integrity and refusing to cut corners, we offer a powerful visible witness to the world. We are called to persevere without becoming cynical, ensuring that when we do encounter irresponsibility, we respond with a spirit of love that seeks to lift others back up into the productive life of the Body of Christ.

Ultimately, we cannot allow division, whether from idleness or meddling, to rise within the church and compromise our mission. The tension between the few who work tirelessly and those who do little but complain is a distraction from our primary purpose. As Paul reminded the Thessalonians, our main calling is to share the Gospel with the world. While his original audience was sidetracked by a misunderstanding of eschatology, we face the same core issues today; people still twist scripture or embrace apathy to justify their own passivity. We must reject the notion that the church’s work is only for a minority. By refusing to be mere spectators and instead using our voices and hands to bring glory to God, we can break free from these distractions, embrace the grace of Jesus, and faithfully work to bring His message of good news to the darkest of places.

2 In the seventh month, on the twenty-first day of the month, the word of the Lord came by the hand of Haggai the prophet: 2 “Speak now to Zerubbabel the son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and to Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and to all the remnant of the people, and say, 3 ‘Who is left among you who saw this house in its former glory? How do you see it now? Is it not as nothing in your eyes? 4 Yet now be strong, O Zerubbabel, declares the Lord. Be strong, O Joshua, son of Jehozadak, the high priest. Be strong, all you people of the land, declares the Lord. Work, for I am with you, declares the Lord of hosts, 5 according to the covenant that I made with you when you came out of Egypt. My Spirit remains in your midst. Fear not. 6 For thus says the Lord of hosts: Yet once more, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land. 7 And I will shake all nations, so that the treasures of all nations shall come in, and I will fill this house with glory, says the Lord of hosts. 8 The silver is mine, and the gold is mine, declares the Lord of hosts. 9 The latter glory of this house shall be greater than the former, says the Lord of hosts. And in this place I will give peace, declares the Lord of hosts.’ ” 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Hag 2:1–9.

Do you recall the excitement of anticipating something significant? Whether it was a Prom, Graduation, Birthday, or Wedding, these events filled you with a sense of anticipation. Our hearts naturally prepare for something ultimately wonderful, and this anticipation is a beautiful feeling. Many carry this same sentiment into the holiday season. Now, imagine if we had a previous event to which we constantly compared everything. If our thoughts were consumed by how that past event appeared or how others presented similar occasions, we would allow this comparison to steal the joy we are meant to experience. Magazines, television, and social media thrive on making us compare our lives and experiences to the most extravagant, glamorous scenarios that are often impossible to replicate. The prophet Haggai delivered a prophetic word to people in a situation very similar to theirs. The elders remembered the true grandeur of Solomon’s temple and its adornments, which was a sight that would have made even the most famous modern-day influencer envious. However, the people of Haggai’s time were not as wealthy, and neighboring countries were not offering their best goods. Consequently, the comparison to the old temple fostered a mindset that needed a reminder: God calls us to anticipate not worldly possessions but God’s Glory.

Haggai was sent a message meant to correct the reliance on comparison inherently that steals the beauty and sincerity of the present moment simply because it isn’t what came before. The message was delivered on the final day of the Feast of Tabernacles, which happened to be the very same festival during which Solomon had dedicated the original temple centuries prior. The parallels naturally led to the painful comparisons for the elders, who, while disappointed by the lack of grandeur, found that their frustration was amplified by their current reality. As they celebrated the harvest festival, they were in the midst of a prolonged period of both drought and scarcity, thus it wasn’t just about how the temple looked, but it was also a comparison against past splendor, leading them to the dangerous error of equating physical magnificence with God’s favor. Haggai’s message, therefore, was a call to abandon the need to return to a previous standard, teaching that when we are too troubled by looking backward, we cannot anticipate the glory God is preparing for us right now.

The call to anticipate God’s present work is the very foundation of hope, a hope that requires the faithful to let go of the past and trust in the Lord’s promises. To empower this shift, God commanded the leaders through Haggai to find strength and ask the people to be empowered by the mandate that was also given to Joshua when preparing to engage and enter the land the Lord had promised, which connects their task of the temple and overcome their current circumstance to a legacy of overcoming challenges. This encouragement was not based on human ability but on the divine assurance given to us through the following: the unwavering promise of His presence, the enduring validity of God’s covenant, and the internal power of the Holy Spirit. Haggai ultimately communicates, both to the original audience and us now, that true strength and hope are not found in wealth or even the comparisons to the past opulence. They are, however, a gift of faith, reminding all of us to keep our eyes fixed on God and allow His Spirit to fill our hearts with anticipation for the glorious future promised.

Looking forward with anticipation is essential because God promises something new, that shakes the heavens and earth which will remove the temporary and establish God’s kingdom, which is unshakeable. Although most of the world looks at precious metals as luxurious and beautiful, Haggai through prophesy redefines glory, because all silver and gold already belong to God, which redefines the new temple’s splendor, as it would not be material but profoundly spiritual. This prophecy was fulfilled as the Second Temple possessed a far superior glory. Within its courts held the personal presence of the Messiah, Jesus Christ, who taught within its courts. This living, manifest glory, combined with the purity of its worship and the subsequent proclamation of the gospel, reveals a fulfillment that surpasses all worldly wealth. Ultimately, this new glory brings shalom, which is a complete spiritual peace secured by Jesus and is the very reason we can now approach the Lord’s Table with anticipation, remembering the life He gave to redeem us.

When we allow past experiences to cloud our judgment, we tend to compare present blessings from the Almighty to what once was, lamenting how things “used to be better.” This tendency to compare, much like those whom Haggai addressed, blinds us to the anticipation he calls us to embrace. Hope, fueled by faith, reveals the beauty that becomes possible when we trust in the Almighty God, and as we partake in the offering of Christ we are reminded that, regardless of our present circumstances, whether in abundance or scarcity, the provision of bread and wine signifies something far greater. It underscores that our reliance must come solely from Christ, not from our own contributions. We are called to an anticipation that surpasses the excitement of a child on Christmas morning or a couple on their wedding day. For the Almighty God promises a future of transformation, immeasurable blessings, the Gospel, joy, and peace. This is the peace we long for, when God restores all things, the hungry are fed, and wealth disparity disappears, which leads to harmony with God and one another. It is with this profound anticipation that we gather at the table and invite others to join us.

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, 2 complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3 Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. 4 Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. 9 Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, 10 so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, 11 and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Php 2:1–11.

The concept of reformation often evokes images of division, but its original intent, as seen in figures like Luther, was not to shatter the Church but to realign it with the mission of Christ. The goal was to purify the Church from worldly power and call it back to a ministry of grace, mercy, and peace. This need for reform, however, is not a distant historical event; it is a constant, personal summons. It would be dangerous to misread the Reformation as a simple rejection of authority. Rather, just as Luther sought a return to Christ’s teaching, we must continually examine where the Church today embraces power over the authority of Christ in our own lives. This perennial call for renewal is precisely what the Apostle Paul urges in his letter to the Philippians, reminding them to shed all “selfish ambition” and unite in the mind of Christ as we establish a pattern required to overcome every temptation toward sin.

Our primary aim in coming to the table of Christ must be to bring ourselves closer to Christ by intentionally drawing closer to one another, particularly to those with whom we most disagree. Paul builds his appeal for this unity in Philippians 2 by grounding it in the profound, shared spiritual realities of the believers. He employs four “if” clauses, not as statements of doubt, but as powerful rhetorical affirmations meaning “since.” He argues that since they have experienced “encouragement in Christ,” “comfort from love,” “participation in the Spirit,” and “any affection and sympathy,” these truths must compel them toward unity. Paul’s joy would be complete, he states, if they would manifest this intense unity through four reinforcing phrases: “being of the same mind,” “having the same love,” “being in full accord” (souls beating as one), and being “of one mind” (thinking the one thing).

To achieve this profound unity, Paul provides specific commands that target the roots of dissension: pride and self-interest. He mandates that the Philippians “do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit.” Selfish ambition refers to a spirit of factionalism and rivalry, while vain conceit denotes an empty, groundless pride. In direct opposition to these destructive attitudes, Paul commands them to act “in humility,” a concept Christianity ennobled from a term once meaning “base” or “groveling.” This humility is not false modesty but a conscious, deliberate judgment to “count others more significant” than themselves. This posture requires a radical shift in perspective, compelling each believer to “look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”

This pathway of humility finds its perfect, ultimate expression in the person and work of Jesus Christ. Paul commands the Philippians, “Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.” Though Jesus existed “in the form of God” (morphē), possessing the very essence of Deity, He “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped.” Instead, He “emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant,” demonstrating His humility by “becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” Because of this ultimate act of self-giving, “Therefore God has highly exalted him.” Christ’s exaltation is God’s thunderous repudiation of all human power structures built on pride. God’s answer is clear: true greatness is found in self-giving, and this greatness results in the highest “super-eminent exaltation,” where every knee in heaven, on earth, and under the earth will bow and “every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

Christ completed His work on the cross by reconnecting humanity to the Almighty, and He calls on us to carry on that work by connecting with one another. The only path to the unity He commands begins by humbling ourselves, putting on the shoes of our neighbor, and seeking to understand and connect. This mission perfectly reflects the character of Christ, who showed us how to look out for one another. While the Reformation was sparked by items for discussion, its human result often reflected our sinful nature to divide, slicing the Church into denominations that segregate us. This hubris of “always being right” stands in opposition to the humility of Christ. Our true reformation, therefore, is an imitation of Christ. We must be transformed by the renewal of our hearts and minds, allowing the Spirit to root out sin and instill in us the attitude of Christ. Only through this humility and desire for unity will we finally find the exaltation of the Body of Christ.

A Psalm of David. 

 1  The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 

 2  He makes me lie down in green pastures. 

  He leads me beside still waters. 

 3  He restores my soul. 

  He leads me in paths of righteousness 

for his name’s sake. 

 4  Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 

I will fear no evil, 

  for you are with me; 

your rod and your staff, 

they comfort me. 

 5  You prepare a table before me 

in the presence of my enemies; 

  you anoint my head with oil; 

my cup overflows. 

 6  Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me 

all the days of my life, 

  and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord 

forever. 

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Ps 23:title–6.

Starting something new, whether joining a group or navigating an unfamiliar path in the dark, can fill anyone with anxiety. We fear being left behind, getting lost, or doing something wrong. This common human experience highlights a deeper anxiety about the darkness and hardships we encounter in life. The life of King David, though he was a king, was filled with near-death experiences and profound struggles. Yet, through it all, he found a constant light in the darkness because the Almighty Shepherd was present to guide him. Having been a shepherd, David uniquely understood the care and concern a shepherd has for his flock, and he used this powerful metaphor in Psalm 23 to illustrate God’s personal concern, guiding presence, and abundant provision for His people.

The foundation of the psalm’s comfort rests on the Lord’s deep, personal concern for our individual well-being. The power of the psalm is not just in its corporate truth, but in its intensely personal claim: “The LORD is my shepherd.” This confidence establishes God’s all-sufficiency in the midst of our struggles. This care is first expressed as provision for rest and refreshment. “He makes me lie down in green pastures” and “he leads me beside still waters” are images of spiritual nourishment and deep, consoling peace. Furthermore, this personal concern extends to spiritual renewal, as “He restores my soul.” He also provides moral direction, leading us in “paths of righteousness” not for our own merit, but “for his name’s sake,” an action consistent with His perfect character and covenant promises.

Even with this intimate care, life involves profound struggles, yet the Shepherd guides us through the most significant challenges. The psalm’s tone shifts dramatically as the serene landscape gives way to the “valley of the shadow of death.” In this place of terror, the psalmist declares, “I will fear no evil,” a courage founded not on self-reliance but on the Shepherd’s unwavering presence: “for you are with me.” This “valley” is not a permanent destination but a transient journey; the psalmist “walks through” it, suggesting a calm, composed pace toward safety on the other side. This comfort is symbolized by the “rod and staff,” the shepherd’s tools representing God’s dual function of powerful protection from external threats and gentle guidance back from danger. Our valleys, even when they are dire and at the point of death, are temporary, but the love of the Almighty is eternal.

The Shepherd’s guidance does not just end after the trial; it culminates in a display of abundant blessing, public vindication, and eternal security. The metaphor changes from God as Shepherd to God as gracious Host, who “prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” This act signifies God’s ultimate protection and public declaration of His faithfulness, honoring His child with a feast while enemies watch, powerless. This provision is extravagant, not minimal: “You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over.” This relentless love, or chesed, is lifelong, as “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” The journey finds its ultimate destination in eternal, unbroken fellowship: “and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.” Therefore, we have no worries or concerns as Christ prepares the communion table for us, bringing restoration, renovation, and renewal to everyone who partakes in the bread and the cup. This isn’t a temporary act, but rather leads us into eternity.

Just as we find grace and peace leading us into eternity, the psalm reminds us that all of our doubts and fears can be put to rest because of the Almighty Shepherd. For in the run club, many a new runner fears being lost on a dark trail; we all face threats and valleys in our lives. Psalm 23 provides assurance that we have a Good Shepherd who cares for us, leads us from danger, and guides us into peace. This protection and guidance come at no cost to us; God prepares the table and pursues us with His relentless love. Therefore, just as we have been comforted, we are called to be instruments of that comfort for others, acting as God’s rod and staff to protect and guide those who are afflicted. God’s grace prepares our path, undeterred by our failures, and works continuously toward our full restoration. We must also strive for the same goal for those in our community, bringing God’s peace to the whole world.

3 And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head. 4 There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the ointment wasted like that? 5 For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they scolded her. 6 But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. 7 For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me. 8 She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. 9 And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Mk 14:3–9.

We often reserve items for “special occasions,” but many of these treasured possessions deteriorate or are ruined before the ideal moment arrives, just as my recent garage clean-up revealed numerous unusable items I’d saved. Similarly, while certain elements of praise and worship are set aside for specific times, we must not delay giving ourselves fully to God; even when prompted, we frequently postpone our devotion until specific times of the year. Yet, the story of the woman in the Gospel of Mark teaches us that now is the opportune moment to give completely to God, underscoring the urgency of worship and showing that our offerings must be centered on service and absolute devotion, holding nothing back from Him. 

True devotion, as illustrated by the woman, is marked by genuine sacrifice. She brought a flask of pure spikenard, a costly and precious oil, and broke the vessel to pour out every drop for Jesus. This was not a calculated donation or reserved offering; it was a complete outpouring of her resources and heart, worth more than a year’s wages. Her willingness to give all she had, holding nothing back, serves as a powerful example that honoring Christ means nothing is too precious to offer. Devotion requires us to trust and surrender our resources, affections, and priorities in worship, echoing the woman’s recognition of Jesus as Messiah and her spiritual insight into his coming sacrifice.

Yet, extravagant worship is often misunderstood and criticized, both by outsiders and fellow believers. The disciples’ reaction, seeing the woman’s gift as a waste that should have been sold for charity, exposes their limited understanding of the moment’s spiritual gravity. Their chastisement, particularly intense in its language, betrays both misguided concern and, in the case of Judas, selfish motives. The passage illuminates how true worship can defy conventions and be met with reproach; however, it is precisely when we silence these voices of doubt and give fully of ourselves for Christ, valuing Him above societal expectations and lesser concerns, that we emulate the woman’s absolute devotion.

Jesus’ response to the woman stands as the affirmation and reward for such sacrificial affection. He not only protects her from rebuke, but declares her deed “a beautiful thing,” elevating it as an enduring testament of faith and prophetic understanding. Where others saw waste, Jesus recognized an act of profound beauty, devotion, and harmony with God’s will. The legacy of the woman’s worship reassures all believers: even small or misunderstood acts of love for Christ have everlasting significance. In attending to the table of God, we are called to hold nothing back, trusting that such wholehearted giving is both noticed and celebrated in the heart of Jesus.

The gift was perfectly timed, arriving just as Jesus was about to be crucified and offered by a woman whose devotion was praised by Him, despite the disciples’ and others’ criticisms of its expense. Jesus held her up as an example of true worship: unreserved dedication to serving Christ’s ministry in the world. Now is the opportune moment to release all that we hold dear and worship the Almighty without reservation. Worship that is not used becomes stagnant, like items saved for a “special occasion” that are eventually discarded. Jesus calls us to His presence now, not in the future, asking us to give everything because our worship is of the highest value and should not be offered to anything that is not of God. Therefore, Christ invites us to give ourselves completely, withholding nothing: neither our finances, nor our time, nor any part of ourselves, from the full and total worship of God. Even if it seems irrational, we are called to give entirely. There is no need to save ourselves for a “rainy day,” because Jesus is here now, inviting us to come forward and share in the kingdom. When we encounter Jesus, we cannot hold anything back, so that our worship may be pure and pleasing in His sight.

9 Wisdom has built her house; she has hewn her seven pillars. 2  She has slaughtered her beasts; she has mixed her wine; she has also set her table. 3  She has sent out her young women to call from the highest places in the town, 4  “Whoever is simple, let him turn in here!” To him who lacks sense she says, 5  “Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. 6  Leave your simple ways, and live, and walk in the way of insight.”

The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Pr 9:1–6.

One of the best nuggets of wisdom I have ever heard was that you should not grocery shop while hungry. If you are hungry while perusing the aisles you are theoretically more likely to overshop, and to buy things that you neither need, nor are good for you. However, your thought process is hijacked by the fact that you want to satisfy your hunger quickly, instead of nourishing your body. As one walks through the aisles of any grocery store there are many decisions that can be made. Walk through some aisles and they are full of highly processed foods that are pleasing to the tongue, but usually along the edges you will find the fresh produce and meat sections that are whole foods that are more nutritionally sound. As we encounter the news it might make our heads spin because it seems like everyday we are told something new is bad for us, which is why we must embrace a stance of wisdom whenever we engage with what and how we eat. Therefore, it is fitting that we engage with wisdom as we approach the table of the Lord. Wisdom prepares the table for us, so that we can walk away from simple minded talk and action, and turn to the nourishing meal offered at the table. Because at the table we find security, grace, and support of the Almighty through the feast wisdom provides.

Wisdom is built upon a strong, deliberate structure, one that grows through the steady accumulation of past lessons, experiences, and divine grace. This structure, symbolized by the number seven, represents perfection and completeness representing a sufficiency capable of welcoming all who seek understanding. This is represented through the sevenfold grace of the Holy Spirit described in Isaiah 11:2: wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, and the fear of the LORD, forms the fullness of this house, resting upon those who dwell in God’s truth. By dwelling in the structure one is encountered by an invitation to dine at Wisdom’s table; however, it is more than a call to Wisdom’s instruction; it is an act of grace, offering the soul the rich nourishment that only divine wisdom can provide. As outlined in the opening chapters of Proverbs, these teachings become the very pillars of the house which is a complete and secure dwelling not built for convenience but for stability and beauty, where those who enter find not fleeting insight but abiding strength, belonging, and peace.

From the firm foundation of her house, Wisdom extends her generosity through a table richly prepared with spiritual fruit and nourishment. Her feast is not one of scarcity but of abundance, designed to help the faithful grow in grace and settle God’s mercy deep within their hearts. As Proverbs declares, “She has slaughtered her beasts; she has mixed her wine; she has also set her table.” This is no simple meal, but a sacred feast centered on sacrifice, signifying both provision and atonement. The wine, mixed with spices, represents a joy perfected and a truth made complete, inviting all who hunger for righteousness to taste and see that the Lord is good. The food Wisdom offers is not ordinary sustenance but the rich fare of divine truth, through which one gains true life. Just as the tree of life offers continual renewal, so too does Wisdom’s banquet provide lasting nourishment for the soul. To partake of her table is to embrace peace, righteousness, and the deep consolations of the Spirit, entering into a fellowship that satisfies the heart more fully than any earthly feast can provide.

Wisdom’s invitation is extended to all, regardless of past folly or ignorance, calling each person to turn from the path of deception and approach her welcoming table. She does not conceal her appeal but proclaims it openly and boldly. As Scripture records, “She has sent out her young women to call from the highest places in the town,” ensuring that her voice reaches every ear and no one can claim to have been left uninformed. Her cry resounds not in secrecy but from the heart of the city, a message meant for every soul willing to hear. Yet the wonder of her invitation lies in whom she calls. It is not the learned, the proud, or the self-satisfied who are summoned, but the “simple” and the one who “lacks sense.” In this, the boundless grace of Wisdom is revealed. Her feast is for those who know their need, who hunger for understanding and truth. The offer is not based on worthiness but on humility and faith, transforming the naive and unwise into people who find life, joy, and spiritual fulfillment at her table.

Wisdom brings the nourishment that we desperately need. Both individually and corporately, Wisdom leads us toward a renewed faith and reliance upon God. For wisdom reminds us that at the table we cannot be proud or self-reliant, but we must fully relinquish our hearts, minds, and souls to Jesus who opens the table for us, even when we most certainly did not deserve even an invitation. As we navigate the flood of words that come at us from all sorts of mass media, it is imperative that we remember to start by feasting at the table that Wisdom has laid for us. This act is more than making the decision not to grocery shop while hungry, it is to allow the wisdom that comes from above to inform our actions and determine how we can best act out our faith in the world. There are going to be numerous voices clamouring for our attention from politicians, influencers, and celebrities to family members and friends that want to get our ear about everything that is going on around us. However, to truly feast on wisdom at God’s table will require our attention and focus to be on the Holy Spirit’s guidance to remain focused on a faith response to the world.