Grace in Action

Daily Office Readings — Tuesday, September 8, 2026
Psalm 45; Psalm 47; Psalm 48; Job 29:1–20; Acts 14:1–18; John 10:31–42

Sometimes when I read the Daily Office, the passages seem to come from completely different places. We have Psalms written for worship, Job sitting in his sorrow, Paul and Barnabas traveling through Asia Minor, and Jesus facing people ready to stone him.

But this morning I hear one message running through all of them:

Grace in action.

Psalm 45 is a love song written for a royal wedding. It celebrates a king whose throne endures and whose kingdom is ruled with justice and righteousness. As a follower of Jesus, I cannot read about this royal wedding without thinking about Christ and the Church, the Bride of Christ, and ultimately the Marriage Supper of the Lamb.

Then Psalm 47 widens the picture.

God is not merely the God of one people or one nation.

God is King over all the earth.

God reigns above the nations.

Interestingly, this Psalm comes from the sons of Korah. Korah was a Levite who rebelled against Moses, yet generations later his descendants were singing praises to God. Even there I see grace. The rebellion of one generation did not have to become the final story of the generations that followed.

Grace can write another chapter.

Then we come to Psalm 48 and Zion.

Immediately I hear the old hymn:

We’re marching to Zion,
Beautiful, beautiful Zion;
We’re marching upward to Zion,
The beautiful city of God.

The Psalm describes kings gathering against Zion. Yet when they see the city, they are terrified and flee.

But what interests me most is what happens inside the Temple.

The people meditate upon God’s unfailing love.

Their security ultimately isn’t found in walls, armies, kings, or political power. Their security is found in God.

And the Psalm ends with a promise that speaks directly to this pilgrim:

“This God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even unto death.”

Then I turn the page and find Job remembering yesterday.

Job 29 finds Job in a reflective mood. He remembers life before he lost his possessions, his children, his health, and his standing in the community. He remembers how close God once seemed. He remembers being respected as a leader and being able to help people who needed him.

Job longs for those days to return.

I understand that.

I think most of us do.

There are moments when something happens that divides our lives into before and after.

I remember when Amanda Joy died during the seventh month of my wife’s pregnancy. There was life before Amanda’s death, and then there was life afterward.

I remember waking up after Hurricane Katrina and discovering that our city was in emergency mode. Again, there was the world we knew before the storm and the world we faced afterward.

When disaster comes, we can find ourselves sitting beside Job saying:

I wish things could be the way they used to be.

But there is no road back to yesterday.

The pilgrim must keep walking.

And along that road I have discovered something else.

After Amanda Joy died, I experienced the joy of the birth of my son and my two daughters.

After Katrina, when everything around us seemed overwhelming, I received a telephone call from a pastor in Florida. He told me they were sending volunteers to help us recover.

The tragedy didn’t suddenly become good.

Amanda’s death wasn’t good.

Katrina wasn’t good.

But neither tragedy had the final word.

Grace showed up.

Sometimes grace looks like the birth of a child.

Sometimes grace sounds like a telephone ringing and somebody on the other end saying:

“We’re coming to help.”

Then Acts takes us on the road with Paul and Barnabas.

They arrive in Iconium and proclaim the Good News. Some Jews and Greeks believe. Others reject their message and stir up opposition until Paul and Barnabas are threatened with stoning.

So they leave.

They continue to Lystra and Derbe.

At Lystra, Paul heals a man who had been unable to walk. The people are so amazed that they decide Paul and Barnabas must be gods. They prepare sacrifices for them.

What a contrast!

In one town people want to stone them.

In another town people want to worship them.

Paul and Barnabas accept neither judgment.

They tell the people:

We are human beings just like you.

Then they point beyond themselves to the living God who created heaven, earth, sea, and everything in them.

And Paul points toward something else.

Rain.

Crops.

Food.

Joy.

God had already been giving these people gifts before Paul arrived and before they understood who God was.

That sounds a lot like prevenient grace to this old Methodist pilgrim.

Grace was already there.

Some heard the message and believed. They experienced justifying grace. Others rejected it. Still others misunderstood what God was doing.

But God continued loving them.

God’s grace allows humanity to respond freely. Grace invites; it does not coerce.

Then we arrive at John 10.

Once again, people are faced with the activity of God and must decide how they will respond.

Jesus declares his relationship with the Father, and some of the people pick up stones.

They believe Jesus has committed blasphemy.

I remember being taught in school about the tremendous reverence surrounding the name of God within Judaism. The divine name was regarded with such reverence that Adonai, meaning “Lord,” was spoken rather than pronouncing the divine name.

These people believed they were defending the honor of God.

And yet they were preparing to stone the Son of God.

Think about that.

They were so certain that they understood God that they could not recognize what God was doing right in front of them.

Jesus escapes from them and returns across the Jordan to the place where John had baptized.

And something entirely different happens there.

People remember what John had told them about Jesus.

They look at Jesus.

They listen.

And many believe.

Same Jesus.

Same grace.

Different responses.

That may be one of the great mysteries of God’s Kingdom.

God loves.

God calls.

God gives.

God heals.

God guides.

God provides.

And humanity responds.

Some believe.

Some reject.

Some misunderstand.

Some even become angry.

But grace keeps working.

Prevenient grace calls us before we even understand what is happening. Justifying grace restores our relationship with God when we respond in faith. Sanctifying grace continues transforming us as we walk with God. And one day final grace will bring the pilgrim home.

Perhaps that is what these readings are telling me today.

Psalm 45 gives us the wedding and the righteous King.

Psalm 47 tells us that God is King over all the earth.

Psalm 48 points us toward Zion and reminds us of God’s unfailing love.

Job reminds us that sometimes the pilgrim walks through places where God seems far away.

Acts shows grace crossing boundaries and reaching people who do not yet understand.

John shows us Jesus standing before humanity and allowing us to respond.

And here we are.

Still walking.

We have known weddings and funerals.

Births and deaths.

Calm mornings and hurricanes.

Times when God seemed incredibly close and times when we wondered where God had gone.

Times when grace was obvious and times when we recognized it only years later.

Yet through all of it, the promise remains:

“This God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even unto death.”

Maybe that is what it means to be a pilgrim.

I don’t know everything waiting around the next bend.

I don’t understand everything that has happened along the road behind me.

But I know something about the One walking with me.

So I keep marching toward Zion.

Not because the road has always been easy.

Not because I have always understood.

Not because I have never doubted, grieved, resisted, or questioned.

I keep walking because, looking back over the road I have traveled, I have seen it again and again.

Grace in action.