This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. (Psalm 118:24)

Dear Saints,

It feels like the world is falling apart at the seams. Everything is horrible. The oligarchy is upon us and will hamper even our weak attempts to prevent a sixth mass extinction on the planet. Liars and narcissists rule our nation. We are in apocalyptic times, where the word means both “ending” and “unveiling.” We may wish things would have remain veiled.

In my ordination vows, I promised I would do my best to “equip the saints for ministry.” I intend to keep doing that. Four years ago as I wrote liturgy for Saint Junia house churches, I began looking to my faith tradition, 2000 years of church history, and the writings of activists, reformers, and those seeking peace with justice from many different traditions. I’ve contemplated how to best support my community and “equip the saints” while ecosystems collapse, fascism rises, the church equivocates, and the internet becomes an AI propaganda tool for the worst humans on the planet.

I believe that the communion of saints who have gone before us teaches us everything we need to know.

I am beginning a series of daily devotionals. They will generally reference a person or an event from this day in history and a short reflection. I am using the widest possible definition of “saint,” much the way William James uses the term: a spiritual person who inspires us to be more like them. This is a practice of virtue ethics and character formation, to ask the question: “What kind of person do I want to be? What kind of life do I aspire to live?” These questions redirect our attention from what we cannot control to what we can, and they move us from fear and anxiety about the future to gratitude for the present.

My grandfather, Loren Barnhart, survived World War 2, and would quote Psalm 118 every day when he woke up: “This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” My Grandma Gennie said it could be irritating to hear this verse day after day, especially when it was rainy and cold. But the psalmist, like Papa, had survived a war. They knew every day was a gift. Years after he died, while she lived with my parents, Grandma would sing the verse, also. And yes, it was irritating.

But it is also true.

Saints, I offer you the saints. May they help you live these days.