Today’s devotional connects our past and present identities in a scripture and a prayer:
So then, remember that at one time you Gentiles by birth, called "the uncircumcision" by those who are called "the circumcision" — a physical circumcision made in the flesh by human hands — remember that you were at that time without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.
But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us. He has abolished the law with its commandments and ordinances, that he might create in himself one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace, and might reconcile both groups to God in one body through the cross, thus putting to death that hostility through it. So he came and proclaimed peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near; for through him both of us have access in one Spirit to the Father.
So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone. In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are built together spiritually into a dwelling place for God.
Ephesians 2:11-22 – NRSV
Our right names
Walter Brueggemann
You God toward whom we pray and
about whom we sing, and
from whom we claim our very life.
In your presence, in our seasons of ache and yearning and honesty,
we know our right names.
In your presence we know ourselves to be aliens and strangers.
We gasp in recognition, taken by surprise at this disclosure,
because we had nearly settled in
and taken up residence in the wrong place.
For all of that, we turn out to be
we strangers, unfamiliar with your covenant,
remote from your people,
at odds too much with sisters and brothers,
we aliens, with no hope
without promise
with very little sense of belonging or knowing
or risking or trusting,
It is in your presence that we come face to face with our beset
beleaguered existence in the world.
BUT
You are the one who by your odd power
calls us by new names that we can
receive only from you and
relish only in your company.
You call us now,
citizens … with all the rights and privileges and
responsibilities pertaining to life in your commonwealth.
You call us now saints, not because we are good or gentle,
or perfect,
but because you have spotted us and marked us
and claimed us for yourself and your purposes.
You call us members … and we dare imagine that we belong
and may finally come home.
So with daring and freedom,
we move from our old names known too well
to the new names you speak over us,
and in the very utterance we are transformed.
In the moment of utterance and transformation, we look past
ourselves and past our sisters and brothers here present. And
we notice so many other siblings broken, estranged, consumed
in rage and shame and loneliness, much born of wretched
economics. We bid powerfully that you name afresh all your
creatures this day, even as you name us afresh. We pray for
nothing more and nothing less than your name for us all,
utterly new, restored heaven and earth.
And we will take our new names with us when we leave this place,
treasuring them all day long,
citizen,
saint,
member,
even as we take with us the odd name of Jesus. Amen.
May God bless you with an awareness of your identity
and acceptance in him
and in his welcoming community.
Ron
