Tuesday - August 4, 2026

SCRIPTURE Matthew 14:16-21 Jesus Feeds the Five Thousand They said to him, “We have only five loaves here and two fish.” And he said, “Bring them here to me.” Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass; and taking the five loaves and the two fish. He looked up to heaven, and blessed, and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. And they all ate and were satisfied. And they took up twelve baskets full of the broken pieces left over. And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children. WORDS OF HOPE Several years ago, I had the joy of attending a dear friend’s installation as the new priest at an Episcopal church. The Gospel reading for that celebratory service was Matthew 14:13-21, the beloved story of Jesus feeding the five thousand. My friend was both excited and understandably nervous; stepping into a new ministry in front of his congregation, family, and friends who had traveled to support him. He began his sermon with a bold line: “I don’t know if the feeding of the five thousand was a miracle or not.” I cringed inwardly, wondering if this was the ideal opening for his first sermon in a new church. Yet he continued thoughtfully, suggesting that perhaps the true wonder was Jesus’ ability to gather five thousand people to sit, listen, and share. After all, many in the crowd would likely have brought food for their journey. With a spirit of generosity sparked by Christ’s presence, there was suddenly more than enough for everyone. But then my friend landed on the heart of the passage with conviction: everyone was invited to the table. No one was turned away. To me, this remains the most powerful truth in the scripture—not debating the mechanics of the miracle but embracing the radical hospitality it reveals. Jesus takes what little is offered, blesses it, and multiplies it so that all are fed and satisfied. This same open invitation echoes every Sunday at the Cathedral of Hope: “Everyone is welcome at God’s table.” In a world often marked by exclusion, scarcity, and division, Jesus models abundance born from compassion and community. When we bring our small loaves and fish—our limited time, resources, or gifts—and offer them willingly, God multiplies them for the good of all. PRAYER O God, may we, like those gathered on the hillside, accept Christ’s invitation without hesitation. Let us come to the table with open hands and hearts, ready to receive, ready to share, and ready to witness miracles of grace in our own lives. In Jesus’ name, all are fed and all are welcome. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR David Sims, Deacon

SCRIPTURE  Romans 9:6 It is not as though the word of God had failed. WORDS OF HOPE There are moments in history when people of faith must decide whether we will merely preserve religion or embody the Gospel. We are living in such a moment now. As Paul writes Romans 9, he is wrestling with questions that continue to haunt the Church today: Who belongs? Who is chosen? Who gets to define the boundaries of God's love? These are not merely theological questions. They are questions with profound consequences for real people, real families, and real communities. Paul's answer begins with a declaration of hope and resistance: "It is not as though the word of God had failed." God's promises have not failed. Human beings have failed one another. Political systems have failed the vulnerable. Religious institutions have too often failed to stand with those whom Jesus embraced. But God's promise to love, to liberate, to heal, and to reconcile remains steadfast. For those of us who have spent our lives ministering alongside LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, people of color, women seeking equality, and all who have been pushed to the margins of society and the Church, this truth is not theoretical. We have seen the damage caused when religion is used as a weapon. We have witnessed the pain inflicted when laws target transgender youth, when immigrants are demonized, when racial justice is dismissed, and when Christian faith is distorted into a tool of exclusion, nationalism, and fear. And yet, we have also witnessed resurrection. We have seen rejected children become beloved adults. We have seen wounded communities become places of healing. We have seen churches once defined by fear transformed into sanctuaries of hope. We have seen God's grace repeatedly break through every boundary humanity has tried to construct. Paul reminds us that God's purposes cannot be confined by our prejudices, our politics, or our anxieties. The God revealed in Jesus Christ consistently disrupts systems of oppression and calls God's people to do the same. Today, on System Administrator Appreciation Day, there is perhaps an unexpected lesson for the Church. So much of what sustains our lives remains unseen. The people who maintain our systems, networks, and infrastructure often labor quietly and faithfully behind the scenes. The same is true of the countless organizers, advocates, pastors, volunteers, caregivers, and justice-seekers who continue the sacred work of building God's beloved community. Their labor may not always be visible, but it is holy work. As followers of Jesus, our calling is not simply to believe that God's promises endure. Our calling is to make those promises visible. This is not a season for silence. It is not a season for respectability politics or cautious neutrality. When vulnerable people are under attack, when truth is distorted, and when fear masquerades as faith, the Church must speak with moral clarity and act with courageous love. The Gospel calls us to defend the dignity of transgender people. The Gospel calls us to welcome the immigrant and refugee. The Gospel calls us to confront racism, poverty, and injustice. The Gospel calls us to reject any theology that diminishes the sacred worth of another human being. God's promise has not failed. The question before us is this: Will we have the courage to live as though we believe it? PRAYER God of justice, compassion, and boundless grace, give us courage for this moment. When fear tempts us to retreat, call us forward. When injustice tempts us to despair, strengthen our resolve. Make us a people who proclaim Your love not only with our words, but with our lives. May we stand where Jesus stood: with the marginalized, the oppressed, the excluded, and the hopeful. And may we never forget that Your promise has not failed, and neither must our witness. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Rev Dr. Neil G Thomas Senior Pastor Cathedral of Hope United Church of Christ

SCRIPTURE  Philippians 4:10-13 How I praise the Lord that you are concerned about me again. I know you have always been concerned for me, but you didn’t have the chance to help me. Not that I was ever in need, for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have. I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little. For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength. WORDS OF HOPE Oprah Winfrey referenced this Scripture in a recent podcast interview with Keke Palmer. What she said literally stopped me in my tracks: “When I started school, and I didn’t even know who my father was at the time, I used to tell people, ‘Jesus is my daddy.’ I really grew up believing I could do all things because I was God’s child. And so, when I walked into the newsroom and I was the only Black woman there, I just assumed I was supposed to be there because God had made the way for that.” Oprah’s words made me pause because her life is a profound example of what Paul reveals to us in Philippians. If we allow ourselves to develop unshakeable confidence and contentment in God, nothing can stand in our way. Imagine what a difference this could make in your life. Imagine how this mindset could remake our communities, and even our world. I ‘m often caught up in what Buddhism describes as “earthly desires.” I logically understand that we all have inherent worth. Intrinsic happiness and peace can’t come from outside ourselves. Emotionally, though, a big part of me believes I’m only valuable if I’m doing things to please and help others, like writing a really poignant devotion for example. When I start spiraling down the earthly desires path, my goal is to remember that God is right there with me. No matter how bleak things may seem, and no matter how much we may want the external thing, God has already given us everything we need . When we choose to have a relationship with God, we can also choose to be happy in the present moment, no matter our circumstances. PRAYER I claim my unlimited power as a child of God and choose to be content right now, exactly as I am. Amen. DEVOTION AUTHOR Logan Alexander Johnson

SCRIPTURE  Mark 4.30-34 [Jesus] said, “What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade.” WORDS OF HOPE I grew up on a farm. Many years ago, the Dallas suburbs scattered on the edges of the city were usually farmland. My parents had a five-acre truck farm in one of those edges where we raised chickens, pheasants, guineas, turkeys, pigs, and used the rest of the land to rotate crops. One of those crops was mustard greens, to me, a dish that tasted even worse than it smelled. But it was high on many Texas families’ menu list in the 1950’s. I attended a small Presbyterian church not far from our farm and during one Sunday sermon, when I was actually paying attention, I heard the Parable of the mustard seed and the huge plant that grew from it. The mustard plant in the parable grew so large that birds could perch in its branches. This piqued my curiosity. What was the preacher talking about? Did mustard plants grow into trees in Jesus’ time? After church, I asked my father if the small bunches of mustard greens he hauled to Jack Evan’s produce department each week could grow as big as one of our pecan trees. “Not that big,” he replied, “but they can grow big enough to hold bird nests.” To prove the point, my mother gave me a single tiny mustard seed to plant in our back yard. Mustard plants grow quickly. A few weeks later it had become an enormous bush, and I did indeed see a cardinal take a break on an elephant ear-size leaf. “Why don’t we let the greens grow bigger like this one?” I asked my father. “We pick them when they are young and tender,” he answered. “A plant this big is tough and bitter. Even the pigs won’t eat it.” I couldn’t imagine the pigs lining up for the young and tender plants either, but what he said did inspire me to think about what Jesus could have been talking about in his mustard seed parable. The preacher had said that it was all about the growth of the church from a small pocket of followers in a small city to a major world-wide religion, but that seemed too simple of an interpretation. Jesus’ stories were not about growth and power, and the powerful leaders of his faith were among his greatest adversaries. People in Jesus’ day, himself among them, were much better informed than we are about agriculture. I think Jesus chose a mustard plant for a specific reason to make the parable a warning about the dangers of growing too large too quickly. It’s about a tender message of love losing its flavor and becoming tough and bitter. The early church was still a seed when Jesus told this story, but I believe he could foresee one of the inevitable paths it could take. Of course, Jesus was talking about the Realm (or Kingdom) of God, not just the organized church body the pastor read into the story. I believe that is something that continually grows inside each of us, but we can still learn from the mustard seed simile. Never lose sight of the seed of love that nurtures the growth of our spirits and never be counted among those who equate their faith with power, making it unpalatable and bitter. PRAYER Thank you for Jesus’ visions of eternal truths in terms of the Creation that surrounds us. May they always be the seeds from which our relationship with you continues to flourish and grow. DEVOTION AUTHOR Dan Peeler Order of St. Francis and St. Clare

SCRIPTURE Ephesians 6:10–18, The Inclusive Bible Finally, draw your strength from God, and from God’s powerful strength. Put on the full armor of God so that you can stand firm against the tactics of the devil. WORDS OF HOPE Buffalo Soldier Day.  I first heard the words "Buffalo Soldier" from Bob Marley. The first time I heard the song, it didn't come to me as history. It came as rhythm, as memory carried through music before it ever became a lesson in a classroom. Long before I knew who the Buffalo Soldiers were, the song invited me into a story that was larger and more complicated than I could have imagined. Music has a way of preserving stories that official histories sometimes overlook, reminding us that memory is carried not only in books and archives but also in voices, communities, and culture. As I began learning more, I found myself listening differently and asking deeper questions. I also found myself watching Peter Kater's documentary series How the West Was Lost. The title itself stayed with me. Growing up, I often heard people speak about how "the West was won," but the documentary invited me to consider another perspective. For many settlers, westward expansion represented opportunity and the fulfillment of a national dream. But for many Indigenous nations, it meant something profoundly different: the loss of homelands, broken treaties, forced removals, disrupted cultures, and generations of grief and resilience. The West was not simply won; for countless Indigenous communities, it was also lost. Holding those truths together has changed the way I read history. It has reminded me that faithfulness begins by listening to voices that history has too often pushed aside and by allowing our understanding to grow when we encounter stories we were never taught. Yet Buffalo Soldier Day also asks us to remember another story, one that cannot be separated from the first. Buffalo Soldiers served during westward expansion, where Indigenous nations—including the Apache, Cheyenne, Dakota, Nez Perce, Navajo, Modoc, Lakota, Utes, and many others—were defending their homelands, cultures, languages, and sacred relationships to the land. Holding these histories together is not easy, and perhaps it should not be. History is rarely neat. It rarely fits into categories of heroes and villains. More often, it reveals human beings trying to survive within systems far larger than themselves while those very systems continue to inflict profound harm on others. Black soldiers were not symbols; they were people navigating the difficult realities of a nation still shaped by racial injustice. Indigenous peoples were not background figures in the American story; they are sovereign nations whose histories, cultures, and voices continue today. To honor one story does not require erasing another. In fact, justice demands that we remember them together with honesty and humility. It reminds us that God is encountered not by ignoring history but by entering it truthfully. God does not ask us to sanitize the past or smooth over its contradictions. Instead, God calls us to listen carefully to those whose voices have too often been marginalized and to recognize that Scripture continually draws our attention toward the vulnerable, the oppressed, the stranger, and those pushed to the edges of society. From the Exodus to the prophets, from Mary's song of liberation to the ministry of Jesus, the biblical story repeatedly reveals a God who hears cries for justice and who invites people into the difficult work of repair, reconciliation, and hope. That work is never about creating new enemies. It is about confronting whatever diminishes God's image in another human being and participating in God's ongoing work of liberation. And the work is still not done. The work of telling the truth. The work of listening before speaking. The work of resisting the temptation to erase or oversimplify difficult histories. The work of building communities where dignity is shared, justice is pursued, and peace is rooted in truth. The work of becoming people who recognize God's image in every neighbor and who refuses to let fear, prejudice, or indifference have the final word. God's liberating work did not end with the Exodus, nor with the resurrection, nor with any single justice movement. The Spirit is still moving. The Gospel is still calling. And we are still invited to participate in the sacred work of liberation, reconciliation, and hope. PRAYER God of Exodus, God of the oppressed, God who still speaks- Hold us in the struggle for truth, shape us in the work of justice, and lead us toward a peace strong enough to carry history without denial. Amen DEVOTION AUTHOR Reed Kirkman