Friday - February 27, 2026
Weber Baker
SCRIPTURE
John 1. 3-5
All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.
WORDS OF HOPE
This is the last devotion for Black History Month. I specifically asked to be able to write this devotion because I have a concern about Black History Month, and Hispanic history month, and Pride Month and any other month that has been designated to honor the history of any people in the United States. Although I easily fit into the category of privileged white guy, my concern is not “why is there not a white history month?” Let me see if I can illustrate my concern through a story from my life.
After some years in the business world, I decided to go back and get my teaching certificate. As I was an English major in college, that is where I started, even though I had spent my years in business working with computers. In my fourth year of teaching, I had just moved to a new school in a new district. This is back in the days when part of the language arts curriculum included an entire block of study in mythology. And to be fair, we were not limited to Greco Roman mythology, but we also read some stories from Asia, Native America, and Africa.
This was when it was understood that studying mythology would teach students why narcissist are called narcissists, and where the days of the week got their names, and why the volcano near Mexico City is called Popocatépetl; and would not teach paganism. But at some point, that was no longer deemed necessary; but back then it was still part of the curriculum. As we approached the end of the mythology unit, my colleagues and I were brainstorming ideas about how to bring it to a close. I suggested that perhaps we could read Langston Hughes well known poem “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”. I felt it brought into modern terms the flow and the placement of story in the same way the Ancient myths we had studied had done.
But I was told that while it was a good poem, we could not use it. Not because it was inappropriate to the subject. Not because it was not part of the written curriculum. I was told we could not use it because we were in November and we “could not study a black author until February”. In other words, the works of black authors, had to be segregated into the month designated for them.
I was fairly new as a teacher, although I was a bit older than the fresh out of college teachers. And frankly, if it were today, my first response would’ve been that perhaps Langston Hughes had another poem we could read during Black History Month, which would allow us to use “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” in November. But I was new and did not do the right thing.
So now, perhaps, you see my concern about these various designated months. There is a tendency to remove the people‘s being honored from the day-to-day world in which they worked, and in which they worked to this day. We segregate people and do not recognize them outside of “their” month. It implies that those works can not possibly influence what goes on day-to-day. It goes farther and implies the same of the authors and the culture of those authors. There is the possibility that people can say “your month has not yet come yet I don’t need to worry about you“ or “your month is passed you’ve had your turn“
So as we close out Black History Month, I ask that you stop and consider the contribution that all people, regardless of skin color, place of origin, or belief system, have made to the everyday world in which we live. Relegating those contributions to one month a year without recognizing them in the day-to-day and flow of the world and history would mean, skipping over the contributions not only of writers, but of scientists and inventors and space, explorers and business people and politicians and the people who labor day to day in factories and fields that sustain all our lives.
Don’t let that happen.
And also, go find a copy of “The Negro Speaks of Rivers” and read it.
PRAYER
Loving God, you have given life and love to all people. You created all people in their many manifest forms. Help us to see that of you in every person we meet, looking past the superficialities of the physical world and seeing each human being as a valuable loved creation of God.
DEVOTION AUTHOR
Weber Baker
Order of Saint Francis and Saint Clare
Need Some Inspiration? Read our Daily Devotions
SONG LYRICS From the dawn of Texas skies/Robes of saffron start to rise,/Walking safely mile by mile, /Carrying peace in every smile. Wind is whispering on the road,/ “Spread your love across the world.” Silent prayers in every stride, /Hope becomes their gentle guide. Step by step we carry peace,/Let the suffering slowly cease./Hearts awaken, fears release. /Together we walk for peace. Step by step in harmony,/Boundless love for all to see/Let compassion never cease. /Together we walk for peace. Song written by Snehashis Priya Barua https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGQFC709qLs WORDS OF HOPE With her mother’s hand on her shoulder for encouragement, a small girl holds out a flower to the saffron-robed monk. He looks kindly into her eyes, smiles a gentle smile, and speaks words known only to the two of them. The monk is the Venerable Bhikkhur Pannakara, leader of a group of 19 Buddhist monks who have made their 108 day, 2300 mile Walk for Peace. He would become the voice for this holy band as they walked mile after mile, sometimes through treacherous winter weather, suffering a car accident which would send one monk to the hospital for a leg amputation, and companioned by Aloka, the spirit-dog who would be by their side in his own “robes” of cold weather vests and sweaters, who paused for head scratches, belly rubs, and treats, and who was sidelined for a while by knee surgery. But through it all the monks’ faithful commitment continued, carried on prayer and the welcome of thousands of people in this country. A man in a wheelchair, yearning for more independence, joins the group for a week and finds the embrace of community. A stage four cancer patient feels a life force in this pilgrimage that helps him bear the diagnosis. As the devotees of peace pass through rural towns and urban thoroughfares on their trek from Fort Worth to Washington DC, people of all ages, ethnicities, and religions press their palms together prayer-like and bow in reverence. They hold posters of blessing and gratitude and speaking peace. Some offer gifts. As the group progresses, the crowds begin to grow. Hospitality blooms in the shared experience, the meals offered, the stories exchanged. Something profound is happening here and, like the bleeding woman who would touch the hem of Jesus’ garment to be healed, the wounded of our nation, torn by division and hostility, come—in person and virtually. In gatherings along the way, the Venerable Pannakara speaks of our need for mindfulness—the key to peace-- to calm the disorder of our monkey minds. He urges us to put away our phones more, to breathe peace and walk in loving kindness and compassion. Rather than waking up with anxiety and fear, he invites us to a new mantra: Today is going to be my peaceful day. * In confidence, he asserts that if each person just takes a second to ask if this [word or action] would hurt anyone, the world would already be kinder. The monks are clear that this walk is not a protest or even an advocacy. It is a spiritual offering. People feel it and are deeply moved. As we begin our own holy season of Lent, I pray that we might make our own commitment—to return to God with all our hearts and to breath in peace, breath out compassion. PRAYER Holy God, May these seeds of peace flourish in us and through our acts of loving kindness. May we together walk for peace. Amen . DEVOTION AUTHOR Dr. Pat Saxon *This link holds a brief but powerful teaching on this mantra by the Venerable Pannakara. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXVq7pfgCQk
SCRIPTURE Acts 17. 5-7 But the Jewish religious leaders were jealous, and taking some wicked men of the rabble, they formed a mob, set the city in an uproar, and attacked the house of Jason, seeking to bring them out to the crowd. And when they could not find them, they dragged Jason and some of the brothers before the city authorities, shouting, “These men who have turned the world upside down have come here also, and Jason has received them, and they are all acting against the decrees of Caesar, saying that there is another king, Jesus.” WORDS OF HOPE Whenever you meet someone new who has the same name as someone you admire, does an image of that earlier person immediately come to mind? The images are more vivid when the name is unusual and not a popular name from the Bible. We usually know several people by names such as Mary, John, Elizabeth, and David. In this narrative from Acts 17, we meet a person with an unusual Bible name: Jason. This was certainly not an unusual name in the first century world of the Apostle Paul, but it was inspired by a Greek hero, not heroic Hebrew names like Joseph or Miriam. Jason was famous as one of the first of the mythic Quest themes of Greek storytelling; the quest for the Golden Fleece. But the Jason of this Acts story was referred to by Paul as his "countryman" which meant fellow Jew, and he lived up to his Greek "hero’s quest " name through his actions on behalf of the early Christian culture. Jason was an early follower of "the Way" of Jesus, and he demonstrated his faith by providing shelter and protection for Paul and his companions in their travels and by suffering the torture and fines of the oppressive Roman Empire. He was a victim of a culture of state-religion rule, the law recognizing only Caesar as both Emperor and God. Jason's heroic defiance was reminiscent of his Greek namesake's unwavering faith to his deity, Hera, the Queen of the Mt. Olympus hierarchy. The Jason of Acts never lost his faith, both in this story and in other mentions within the letters of Paul. Early extra-biblical writings continued to follow his mission, as he underwent continued harassment and imprisonment by Rome, but finally ended his career heroically by becoming a powerful Bishop of the infant church. I ‘ve known several Jasons in my life and each of them has shared the same sort of goals and determination as their Greek and Hebrew examples. Though there is nothing magical about our names, a review of their origins can be a source of inspiration. We are usually named after admirable people. (I have never met a Jezabel or a Caligula!) My name, Daniel, means "God is my Judge.” It is both a reminder and a comfort. But even if our name of origin is not one we might especially like, we have the opportunity every day to make it one future generations will remember. PRAYER May our names, either by birth or ones we have chosen, forever honor you. Thank you for Jesus, the name we most admire, and whose Way we will always follow. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Dan Peeler Order of St. Francis and St. Clare
SCRIPTURE Psalm 30:11 You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness. WORDS OF HOPE We are at the beginning of our Lenten journey, forty days during which our responsibility as Christians is to turn toward our God, leaving behind those things that hinder and distract us from our relationship with God. This is a season to undertake practices such as prayer, fasting, study, meditation, and denial of those things that separate us from God and our church. The reward for having kept a Holy Lent is receiving fully the joy of the Resurrection on Easter Sunday. Lent is often seen as a dark and depressing time in the church year. And yet, it is the season in which we are allowed, even encouraged, to be somewhat self-centered. It is the time for us to focus on our personal relationship with God. Lent is the time when we make right our hearts and minds so that we can continue faithfully to do the work of the church. The personal work that we must each undertake during these forty days can be difficult, but it also brings profound joy. What better thing is there for our spirit than the joy that comes from making right our relationship with the Holy One? The verse above from Psalm 30 describes what happens to us as we make our way through Lent. Sackcloth was a scratchy uncomfortable fabric made with either camel or goat hair. It was worn by those who were mourning or who were showing repentance before God. Though we don’t see people walking around in sackcloth, we do hear people talking about or even visibly wearing the misery of turning away from things they have “given up” for Lent. God will turn that discomfort into gladness. We may also mourn some things that we have to remove from our life because they compromise our relationship with God. Here too, our mourning of the loss of worldly things is turned into a joyful dance celebrating God as our dance partner. This brings to my mind the Shaker hymn, “The Lord of the Dance,” written by Sydney Carter in 1963. He bases this hymn on the older Shaker tune, “Simple Gifts,” written in 1848. Carter’s lyrics are Jesus’s version of “dancing through life.” Jesus dances in the joyful times, but he also dances through his darkest hours. He desires that we have the strength to do their same…with him as our dance partner. As today’s prayer, I share Sydney Carter’s lyrics. The words alone are powerful, but I encourage you to listen to the music…and to dance. PRAYER “Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance,” said he. PRAYER I danced in the morning When the world was begun, And I danced in the moon And the stars and the sun, And I came down from heaven And I danced on the earth, At Bethlehem I had my birth. REFRAIN: Dance, then, wherever you may be, I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be, And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he I danced for the scribe And the pharisee, But they would not dance And they wouldn't follow me. I danced for the fishermen, For James and John They came with me And the Dance went on. REFRAIN I danced on the Sabbath And I cured the lame; The holy people Said it was a shame. They whipped and they stripped And they hung me on high, And they left me there On a Cross to die. REFRAIN I danced on a Friday When the sky turned black It's hard to dance With the devil on your back. They buried my body And they thought I'd gone, But I am the Dance, And I still go on. REFRAIN They cut me down And I leapt up high; I am the life That'll never, never die; I'll live in you If you'll live in me - I am the Lord Of the Dance, said he. YouTube : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S8c3-GMOs10 DEVOTION AUTHOR Kris Baker Order of Saint Francis and Saint Clare
READING Lord God, as I light this small votive candle, may it be light from you. From an old Franciscan votive prayer. WORDS OF HOPE Many of us light a lot of candles and offer many reflective prayers during the Lenten Season. Today’s reflective reading is from an old prayer which I discovered several years ago when I lived as a Franciscan brother in San Francisco. Once, while waiting for Sunday worship at the Cathedral, I wandered into a side chapel off from the nave. There, I found a votive candle stand for prayer. On the wall and in the flickering light above the candles, I noticed a framed prayer. It was a copy of a prayer discovered many years before in the Cathedral of Tours, France. Candles or some type of torch or lamp have always been part of the human experience of worship. Being raised as a "nearly candle-less" Baptist, I had almost no experience with the powerful symbolism which candles may have for quieting and focusing the spiritual life. That changed in a dramatic manner when I lived with the Franciscan brothers in Dorset, England. The chapel was an ancient stone barn, dark without windows, and utterly quiet as I was the first brother to arrive for morning prayers. My duty was to light several hanging votive candle lamps, and then sit quietly. In the still quiet and flickering light, I opened my soul to Jesus and we communed in prayer. If you have never experienced meditation and silent reflection before a lighted candle, I suggest you give it a try. Perhaps repeat the words of today’s simple prayer and then wait for God’s inspiration or perhaps consolation. In a small side chapel years ago, I had given fire to the wicks of those candles, and now they symbolized the living and illuminating presence of Christ coming into my soul to speak and guide. In that flickering quiet presence, my soul became like the wick of a small candle and ready to be set aflame by Christ. Today, may your soul be open to receive the flame of Christ's teaching love. PRAYER Lord God, quiet my mind and open wide my heart to receive your words. May they penetrate deeply into my soul and transform my daily life so that I will live in harmony with your desires for me. DEVOTION AUTHOR Donald (Luke) Day Order of St. Francis and St. Clare
SCRIPTURE Romans 12:12 Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. WORDS OF HOPE There are tons of narratives, verses, and songs about clutching onto hope in times of trials and turmoil. Even the Greek story of opening Pandora’s box which unleashed extraordinary chaos and pain in the world, uncovered a tiny hidden bird who promised there would always be Hope! As a little girl, I met a woman with a very noticeable limp who explained she had endured unthinkable cruelty in a Nazi concentration camp as young child. She said no matter how bad it got; she was determined to live and never give up hope. I will always remember her words. “If you ever lose hope, its because you let it go, no one can take it from you”. I cannot think of a more pertinent need for hope than in these unusual times where unity becomes divided by politics, fear, and control. Rebellion and crime are often started when people lose hope. Scripture suggests we be patient in times of tribulation and remain in constant prayer. Often, I am personally hoping God will swiftly answer our prayers for peace and civility. Sometimes our greatest weapon is hope! When Britain’s legendary leader Winston Churchill was asked what his country’s greatest weapon had been against the Nazi regime of Hitler during World War II, he did not hesitate for a moment. He promptly replied, “It was what England’s greatest weapon has always been – hope.” I have read that a person can live forty days without food, about four days without water, four minutes without air, but only four seconds without hope. Right now, may be the most perfect time to be a messenger of hope with something as simple as a kind word of encouragement. Just offering a positive word of hope might be the thing someone needs most. Maybe we should turn this epidemic of monumental chaos and fear into a “a monumental epidemic” of spreading hope. Who knows, the infusion of passing on hope to loved ones and strangers might begin a circle of hope that keeps everyone’s spirit going! PRAYER Creator God let your promise of hope give us the strength to reassure others of your inclusive love, this day and forever more. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Donna Jackson
SCRIPTURE Jonah 3.1 Then the word of Yahweh came to Jonah a second time: “Get up! Go to the great city of Nineveh and preach to them the message I told you to share.” (Full passage: Jonah 3 1-10 (Inclusive Bible) WORDS OF HOPE on Iwo Jima Day Today is Iwo Jima Day. I am too young to know what it truly meant to fight in World War II, especially in its final and most devastating months. I did not land on black volcanic sand beneath a sky filled with fire. I did not carry orders that demanded violence while promising freedom. I did not watch friends disappear in an instant. To claim that understanding would be dishonest. And yet remembrance does not require firsthand experience—it requires humility. It asks us to pause, to honor lives lost, and to sit with the truth of what war takes from the human soul. Remembrance is not meant to glorify war. It is meant to sober us. It confronts us with the cost of violence and reminds us that war always takes more than it gives. On this day, honoring those who suffered and died matters deeply. Their lives should never be reduced to symbols or used to justify future violence. True remembrance resists romanticizing sacrifice and instead calls us to learn from it. But remembrance is never only about the past. It presses into the present. It asks how we will live now. I live in a world shaped by the aftermath of war—a world where violence has not ended but has become easier to justify, easier to ignore, and easier to fund. As I stand in the 21st century, early in 2026, my spirit is drawn not toward militarism, but toward peace. I feel called to resist the normalization of war and to choose the way of nonviolence. I name myself, without apology, as a pacifist. Nonviolence is not weakness; it is moral clarity. Pacifism does not deny suffering or ignore injustice. It refuses to answer harm with more harm. It is the conviction that violence may overpower bodies, but it cannot heal hearts, restore dignity, or build lasting justice. The means we choose to shape the world we create, and peace cannot be born from systems designed to destroy. Nonviolence is not passive or naïve. It is active and demanding. It requires courage to interrupt cycles of retaliation and restraint when vengeance feels justified. It calls for truth-telling, protest, solidarity, and love that refuses to become what it opposes. Nonviolence does not avoid conflict—it seeks to transform it. I embrace the word hippie as a spiritual posture rather than a stereotype. Flower power, for me, is a commitment to peace, justice, and love. My bumper stickers speak those values openly. Hippie beads hang in my car, small reminders that even ordinary spaces can carry intention and witness. My clothing reflects simplicity and a refusal to clothe myself in fear or domination. These are not performances; they are practices—ways of aligning daily life with deeply held convictions. The music of the 1960s counterculture still shapes my imagination. Those songs remind me that love can confront war, that dissent can be faithful, and that choosing peace in a violent world is not foolish—it is necessary. In a culture that treats violence as practical and compassion as unrealistic, choosing gentleness becomes an act of resistance. War’s harm reaches far beyond the battlefield. It displaces families, creates refugees, wounds children, and scars the earth itself. Long after fighting ends, war lingers—in bodies, memories, and systems built on fear. And yet we live in a nation that can always find resources for weapons and conflict, while struggling to care for the unhoused, protect LGBTQIA+ lives, welcome immigrants, or ensure dignity for the vulnerable. This is not just a political problem; it is a spiritual one. What we fund reveals what we value. The story of Jonah reminds me that God is not committed to destruction. Nineveh is spared not through force, but through repentance and the turning away from violence. Mercy interrupts what seems inevitable. The story insists that people and nations can change, and that violence is not the final word. Honoring those who fought and died at Iwo Jima does not require glorifying war. True remembrance asks whether we are willing to choose another way. To remember faithfully is to commit ourselves to peace. To grieve honestly is to refuse to make violence sacred. And to follow the God of mercy is to believe that nonviolence is not a dream for another world, but a calling for this one. PRAYER God of peace, come into our wounded world. Where war is normalized, teach us repentance. Where violence is justified, awaken compassion. Where fear governs decisions, plant courage rooted in love. Shape us into people who choose nonviolence, who resist empire without becoming what we oppose, who carry peace in our words, our bodies, our cars, our homes, and our daily lives. Let peace begin in us, and let it ripple outward— into our communities, our nations, and our world. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Reed Kirkman