Oh, Love,
How Deep
LENTEN DEVOTIONAL 2017
Oh, Love, How Deep
Oh, Love, How Deep
ELW 322
For us he prayed; for us he taught;
for us his daily works he wrought,
by words and signs and actions thus
Oh, love, how deep, how broad, how
high,
beyond all thought and fantasy,
that God, the Son of God, should take
our mortal form for mortals’ sake!
God sent no angel to our race,
of higher or of lower place,
but wore the robe of human frame,
in Christ our Lord to this world came.
For us baptized, for us he bore
his holy fast and hungered sore;
for us temptation sharp he knew;
for us the tempter overthrew.
still seeking not himself, but us.
For us by wickedness betrayed,
for us, in crown of thorns arrayed,
he bore the shameful cross and death;
for us he gave his dying breath.
For us he rose from death again;
for us he went on high to reign;
for us he sent his Spirit here
to guide, to strengthen, and to cheer.
All glory to our Lord and God
for love so deep, so high, so broad;
the Trinity whom we adore
forever and forevermore.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 2 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Ash Wednesday, March 1
Friday, March 3
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21
Matthew 4:1-11
Ash Wednesday is so called because on this day
worshipers receive ashes in the shape of the cross on
their foreheads as a sign of mourning, mortality and
repentance. The ashes are traditionally prepared from
the burned palm branches distributed on the Palm
Sunday of the previous year. Their use suggests divine
judgment on sin, and our humiliation, repentance
and total dependence on God. As the ashes are being
imposed we hear the words spoken to Adam following
the first transgression, “Remember that you are dust, and
to dust you shall return,” and recall the solemn “earth
to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust” of the committal
service. Once used for cleaning, however, ashes can also
suggest cleansing and renewal.
As an Old Testament professor, I worry a lot about how
Scripture is used, and particularly whether we deploy it
for good or for harm. In this particular story, it strikes me
that Jesus is using Scripture as a shield, and the devil is
using Scripture as a weapon. In the face of overwhelming
temptation, Jesus turns to the book of Deuteronomy
to deflect the devil’s taunts. Rather than seeking to
harm his enemy, Jesus turns to Scripture to summon
his own strength, reminding himself why his victory is
inevitable. As you embark on this year’s Lenten journey,
how might you use Scripture to shield yourself from sin
rather than using it as a means to judge or hurt others?
What word will you offer in the face of temptation? Jesus’
final response to Satan is a helpful place to start. When
confronted by anything that tries to command our loyalty
over that of God, we can turn, like Jesus, to these words
of the law: “You will worship the Lord your God and serve
only him.”
Gracious God, help us to remember that though one
day our lives will end, we will die in the embrace of your
promise. Amen.
Thursday, March 2
God of promise, you have given us a great gift in your
word. Help us to understand your word and to use it in
ways that give honor and glory to your Name. Amen.
How do we use the words of scripture? When we call on
the power vested in the words of the Bible, is it to build
up or to tear down? Do we seek to bring life or death?
Are we doing God’s work, or our own? Shakespeare wrote
that “the devil can cite scripture for his own purposes,”
and in today’s reading we see the devil using the words of
Psalm 91 to try to convince Jesus to defy God. In so doing
Satan turns scripture into an idol. He thinks he can trick
Jesus into mistaking a few words of scripture for the will
of God.
Saturday, March 4
Matthew 4:1-11
The forty days of Lent parallel Jesus’ forty days in the
wilderness. During this season of self-examination, we
are challenged to face our temptations and confess, like
Jesus, that we have nothing but God alone on whom to
rely. We must fearlessly tear down our idols—even if
those idols are built from the very words of scripture.
Sovereign God, smash our idols, and fill our mouths with
the truth of your holy Word. Amen.
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 1 (ELW 322)
It is indeed beyond all thought and fantasy, as our hymn
suggests, that God through Jesus would not only enter
into our world as it is, but also as we are. That God would
slip into a mortal form, a human body, vulnerable to the
dangers of the world and the violence of humanity. And
God did so out of a radical love for both the world and
humanity—a love that would surpass the depth, breadth
and height of sin, suffering and death.
We know this to be true, of course, through the story of
Jesus and where this season of Lent is ultimately leading
us. But we also know the reality of sin, suffering and
death, for we have experienced them in our own bodies.
We have felt their shame and ache. And when we are
encompassed by them and lost in their darkness, our
knowledge cannot save us. Thank God we don’t have to
save ourselves. Thank God that our salvation has come
through this Jesus.
Loving God, strengthen us in our faith that your love
is deeper and broader and higher—that we are never
beyond your reach. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 3 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Sunday, March 5
Tuesday, March 7
Thomas á Kempis, the 15th century monk best known for
his devotional work The Imitation of Christ, wrote this
hymn to tell the story of Jesus in verse. He begins with
the Incarnation, wondering at the incomprehensible love
that led the Son of God to become flesh, taking on “our
mortal form for mortals’ sake.”
“On the seventh day, God rested.” For millennia, the
resting of God has been a cherished, distinctive part
of the Jewish and Christian traditions. However, even
though God rests, this psalm repeatedly promises that
God is never sleeping. God is not passive, nor absent,
nor unaware of what is happening to us. Day and night,
when we come and when we leave, from our birth until
our death, God is active in our lives, bringing us help and
protection. It’s not always easy to proclaim this in a world
twisted with injustice and battered by tragedy, but our
faith teaches us to be watchful for how God is at work
around us. In Christ, we can trust that God is always with
us, even in our deepest sorrows.
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 1 (ELW 322)
Here is no sentimental Christmas carol celebrating the
infant Jesus attended by adoring shepherds and assorted
domestic livestock. This hymn instead moves quickly
from the birth of Jesus to his life, death and resurrection.
The shadow of the cross looms over the manger, but
not in an ominous way. Instead, the hymn celebrates in
wonder and astonishment the love that would lead God
not only to become one of us and to live among us, but
also to die on a cross and to be raised again—all “for us.”
Such love is a profound thing to ponder as we begin our
Lenten journey.
Lord Jesus Christ, Love incarnate, walk with us during
these weeks in the way of the cross, that it may be for us
a way of life and peace. Amen.
Monday, March 6
Genesis 12:1-4a
Faith is exceedingly inconvenient. It never lets us stay put.
When we heed the call of the Holy Spirit, we are pulled
out of our old ways and into something new—new places,
new relationships, new visions, new work, new life.
Abraham’s new story begins with a single word from God:
Go! Go from your home and your family and everything
you have ever known, trusting that I have something
greater in store for you! It’s a terrifying, absurd proposal.
But he listens anyway. All of history hinges on this
decision—he gets up and goes when God tells him to go.
His faith permits him to let go of the present and live into
the promise, and so he becomes a blessing to the whole
world. When we follow our faith into new places, we too
can be a blessing to others. We just have to be willing to
listen when God speaks and calls us.
Psalm 121
Protector God, teach us to look to you for help, and show
us signs of your saving presence in our lives. Amen.
Wednesday, March 8
Romans 4:1-5, 13-17
All our lives are shaped by how much we earn through
our work. Where we live, who we know, how we shape
and clothe our bodies—practically nothing is untouched
by our wages. We work hard to win our due, so most
of us are naturally protective of what’s ours. The world
judges us by how much we can gather for ourselves. But
there are no wages in the kingdom of heaven. In faith,
God sets us free of needing to earn our way; all are freely
showered with unimaginable gifts of mercy. When we
see our lives from God’s perspective, we no longer have
to worry about comparing ourselves to others. No one
has to work to be worthy. God’s grace overturns all our
economies.
God of Abraham, set us free from all our anxieties and
comparisons. Help us to see that, through Christ, all
people are worthy of your abundant love. Amen.
Lord, give us the courage to listen to your call and follow
where you lead. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 4 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Thursday, March 9
Saturday, March 11
John 3:1-17
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 2 (ELW 322)
John 3:16 is one of the most familiar, most beloved verses
in all of scripture. Here is the gospel, clearly stated:
because of God’s great love, Jesus came to earth to
lead us into abundant, everlasting life. But the verse is
strange and startling in context. Immediately before the
cherished words, Jesus compares himself to the bronze
snake that Moses made and lifted up in the wilderness.
This recalls an ugly incident told in Numbers 21: God
sends a swarm of venomous snakes as a punishment, and
many people die before Moses offers salvation in the
form of this bronze serpent. It seems bizarre that Jesus
would evoke this grim object next to such a beautiful
proclamation of God’s love. However, the gospel appears
in surprising, even off-putting places, showing us a God
who transforms punishment and death into forgiveness
and life.
Surprising God, keep our eyes open to recognize you
where we least expect you. Amen.
Every year, my family’s Christmas tree is covered with
angel ornaments. They smile and glitter on the branches,
promising the glorious joy of God’s reign. In many homes
and churches, angels are beloved signs of God’s presence,
promises and protection. Our instinct is often to seek
God in otherworldly images, to gaze to heaven when we
pray. But when God came to us in Jesus, it was not in the
form of a heavenly spirit. We believe that in Jesus the
Christ God lived, died and conquered death as a human
being. And in Christ made flesh we are taught to find
God in the world that surrounds us—in water, in bread
and wine, in a neighbor in need. We live in the hope of
the kingdom of heaven, but for as long as we are on this
earth, God meets us here and now.
Living God, comfort us with the hope of heaven, but help
us to seek you and serve you in the things of this earth.
Amen.
Sunday, March 12
Friday, March 10
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 2 (ELW 322)
Matthew 17:1-9
Who taught you your faith? When you pray, whose words
live in your heart? Which saints and prophets, which
family members and teachers have helped you know
God?
When Jesus is transfigured on the mountaintop, he
doesn’t appear alone. His divinity blazes forth in the
presence of Moses and Elijah. The disciples more fully
see and understand him because of the living witness of
ancient prophets. Like the disciples, we encounter Christ
amidst a cloud of witnesses. All the saints, living and
dead, reveal Jesus to us. All the faithful whom we have
loved and learned from show us the body of Christ. We
cannot know God without knowing each other. God’s
story is our story.
At first glance, this hymn’s claim that God “wore the robe
of human frame” looks theologically suspect. After all,
God didn’t briefly wear a human body like we wear our
clothes; God became fully, completely human in Jesus.
However, I see the significance of the metaphor in the
garment, not in the wearing. In Christ, our frail, fallible
mortality is elevated to the splendor of a noble robe. God
could have come to us in any majestic form, but chose to
take on our sin and sickness, our messy bodies and messy
emotions, even our death. In doing so, Jesus transformed
and redeemed our humanity into the very place where
we meet God. The lowly incarnation is God’s highest
glory.
Incarnate God, thank you for coming to us in Jesus Christ.
Thank you for meeting us where we are. Amen.
God of the ages, teach us to encounter you in one another,
in both expected and surprising places, until the living
body of Christ testifies to the fullness of your reign. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 5 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Monday, March 13
Wednesday, March 15
Exodus 17:1-7
Romans 5:1-11
Why have a story about the people’s griping in a Lenten
devotional? Perhaps because, as my colleague Terry
Fretheim used to say, “Forty years is a long time to be in
the sandbox!” Maybe because their position between
deliverance from slavery at the Red Sea and entrance
into the Promised Land approximates that of the Church
between our deliverance at the cross and resurrection of
Jesus and our awaiting the promised land of our heavenly
home. In both cases God’s perceived absence is a
common occurrence. Yet, our text shows us that God was
with the people in their plight, actively providing them
with the water they so desperately needed. Might we say
that God uses those times of supposed absence to show
us how truly present God actually is?
Ever present God, help us trust that you are always with
us, no matter what. Amen.
In Romans Paul was writing to a group of Christians
who were trying to maintain their faith despite the
disapproval of their neighbors. Meer membership in
this Christian community was enough to put security,
property and even life itself at risk. In these trying
circumstances Paul reminded them of Jesus, “through
whom we obtained access to this grace in which we
stand” (v. 2). He boldly suggested that God could turn
their very suffering into blessing—by grace, of course—
since “suffering produces endurance, and endurance
produces character, and character produces hope” (v.
3-4). That is to say, God can make us stronger through
the painful experiences of our lives. Paul doesn’t promise
that Christians are exempt from suffering, he promises
that God can use our suffering in meaningful ways.
God of transformation, thank you for loving me despite
my unworthiness, help me to love others as you do. Amen.
Tuesday, March 14
Psalm 95
This fine example of a hymn of praise invites us to
worship God in various ways (v. 1-2, 6) and offers a
double reason to do so: “For the Lord is a great God . . .”
(v. 3-5), and, more importantly, because God is “our God”
(v. 7). Like all the hymns of praise, however, this psalm
serves best as a vehicle for mission! Inviting others to join
you in praise of God by sharing what God has done for
you sounds like witnessing—and of course it is! In their
liturgy of worship Lutherans used to sing “Thank the Lord
(how do we do that?) sing his praise (and how might we
do that?) tell ev’ryone what he has done” (Lutheran Book
of Worship, p. 72)!
God of grace and God of glory, we praise you not only
for what you have done for us, but for who you are.
Encourage us to tell others about your gracious love.
Amen.
Thursday, March 16
John 4:5-42
Towards the middle of his encounter with the Samaritan
woman Jesus announces “the hour is coming” (v. 21),
which is the traditional way of depicting the coming
new age. But in verse 23 Jesus adds the words “and is
now here,” words that transform his statement into
the announcement that the new age is already present
in his person. In verse 26 he declares that he is in fact
the Messiah, the anointed one, the Christ. That this
first “I am” in John is revealed to a Samaritan woman
of questionable morals becomes a vivid demonstration
of sheer grace. Lent, for all its emphasis on remorse for
sin, can also be a time that celebrates the power of the
gospel as it shatters our limited view of existence and
leads us to live life more fully.
Great “I am,” help us to see you as you truly are. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 6 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Friday, March 17
Sunday, March 19
John 4:5-42
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 4 (ELW 322)
On Tuesday, in Psalm 95, we saw the importance of
sharing our faith. Now we see how the Samaritan
woman’s testimony concerning her experience with
Jesus resulted in the conversion of many Samaritans (v.
39). More importantly, their own personal experience
of Jesus was decisive in their coming to faith (v. 40-42).
John’s point is that the Samaritans’ faithful response is
proof that the new age is in fact appearing in Jesus, “the
Savior of the world,”—a title that brings to a close the
progression of escalating claims of who Jesus is: “Jewish
male” (v. 9), “prophet” (v. 19),“Messiah,” and “I am he” (v.
26). For many people, Lent is a time of growing realization
of who Jesus is for us and for others as they practice their
Lenten discipline of Bible reading and prayer.
Savior of the world, as we come to a fuller recognition of
you and your love, may we be moved to share that love
with others. Amen.
Saturday, March 18
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 3 (ELW 322)
In the wilderness, Jesus experiences three temptations,
each more beguiling than the last, the tempter’s attempt
to lure him away from his mission with promises of
comfort, security and power. On all three occasions Jesus
effectively fends off the temptation with a quote from
Deuteronomy. His command of the scriptural witness
is no less impressive than the creative way in which he
applies his knowledge with authority. Instead of allowing
the temptations of comfort, security and power to
govern his life, he chooses the dangerous path of the
cross along with the vulnerability, risk and suffering that
such a choice entails. Essentially, he chooses to place
his trust in God, and all of this is “for us,” as the hymn so
poignantly puts it.
Sustaining God, surround us with your strength these
forty days, as we confront whatever would keep us from
you. Amen.
When I was in college, a familiar question in churchly
circles was, “Have you found Jesus?” As a budding
theologian, I was somewhat put off by this particular
evangelistic approach and often answered, “Why, yes!
He was behind the sofa all the time.” It wasn’t until years
later that I discovered the reason for my annoyance.
When we envision faith as our quest for Jesus, we
find ourselves trying to go “up the down escalator,” as
Gerhard Forde, one of my professors, put it. The great
good news of the gospel is not that I need to commit to a
lifelong search for Jesus, but that Jesus has always been
actively searching for me.
Seek us, O Lord, seek us and find us, embrace us with your
love, draw us close that we may be yours forever. Amen.
Monday, March 20
1 Samuel 16:1-13
Our reading starts at the beginning of a new chapter
in Samuel, but we actually enter into the midst of an
unresolved and messy story. God regrets making Saul
king and rejects him for his disobedience, and Samuel
is overcome with grief for Saul. But God doesn’t leave
Samuel in his grief—or the Israelites in theirs. Rather, God
shares in their grief, for God’s regret is God’s grief. More
so, in the midst of this shared grief, God is at work for
God’s good purposes in the world. God is at work for the
sake of God’s people. “Set out. I will send you…For I have
provided for myself a king.” God’s call comes to draw
Samuel out of his grief and beckon him onward. This call
will stir up hope for Israel with David’s anointing.
We, too, are not left alone in our grief. God shares in it
and, through Jesus, has fully entered into it for our sake.
God comes into our lives to do what God has done again
and again: deliver God’s people.
God of providence, thank you for accompanying us in our
grief and delivering us from it through Jesus Christ our
savior. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 7 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Tuesday, March 21
Thursday, March 23
In June 2011, my hometown of Minot, N.D., and the
surrounding communities suffered from an historic
flood. The swollen Souris River climbed out of its banks
swallowing up homes, schools, businesses, churches and
parks. Suffice it to say “the valley of the shadow of death”
seemed to have made itself at home, when so many were
without theirs, in the Souris River Valley.
In this story of healing in John 9, I’m often so focused on
the matter of the blind man receiving sight that I overlook
the implications of Jesus’ vision. Right from the beginning
of the narrative Jesus sees the blind man. Furthermore,
Jesus sees beyond the man’s blindness. That is, the man
isn’t reduced to his condition of blindness; neither is he
reduced by sin. Instead, Jesus sees that God’s works will
be revealed in him—Jesus sees the potential of a new
disciple.
Psalm 23
John 9:1-41
But where there is death, God’s promise of resurrection
is sure to follow. I saw the signs of this promise in the
wildflowers that sprung up all around the barren valley—
this silent choir reaching for the heavens with its cheerful
yellow petals and singing through its very existence that
life would bloom again. I saw this promise embodied in
the sweaty and determined volunteers who worked to
rebuild what had been destroyed.
Psalm 23 speaks beautifully to this promise. It does so by
being honest about the reality of death and darkness. But
then it continues to proclaim that even in “the valley of
the shadow of death” God is still with us.
Shepherding God, help us to trust that when we are lost in
the darkest of valleys we are not lost from you. Amen.
Wednesday, March 22
Ephesians 5:8-14
Yesterday, guided by Psalm 23, I wrote of how even
when we are lost in the darkest of valleys, God is with us.
Today I’m drawn to speak of light—because God not only
remains with us in darkness, but also brings us into light.
Indeed, we are light and so we are called to live as such
for the sake of others.
We know the reality of darkness, and the despair and
destruction it inflicts. But in the Lord we also know the
power of light, and the hope and healing it offers. So we
are called not to live in fear, nor in the safety of comfort
zones, nor in a state of false peace. As the Rev. Dr. Martin
Luther King Jr. proclaimed, “True peace is not merely
the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice.”
Therefore, we work for God’s justice—that which is good
and right and true—by daring to wade into those dark
places in the world and reflect God’s light.
Lord of light, in a world full of darkness grant us courage
to live as children of light so that we pursue your justice
and share your peace with all. Amen.
So Jesus gets his hands dirty in healing the man. Then he
sends him with the command, “Go, wash,” and the man
follows the order and comes back able to see. From there
his literal sight gives way to the growth of his vision, his
recognition, his understanding. His new vision is such—as
articulated in verse 27—that he sees in himself what
Jesus also saw—a disciple. Jesus’ vision moves the blind
man from darkness to light, from unbelief to belief, from
beggar to disciple.
Revealing God, help us to see as Jesus sees so that people
will no longer be overlooked or disregarded. Amen.
Friday, March 24
John 9:1-41
Through Jesus, God closed the distance between God’s
self and the world by taking on flesh and entering into it.
In his ministry, Jesus left no room for distance either, as
exemplified in this story in John 9. He makes mud and
spreads it on the blind man’s eyes and we gain a picture
of the intimacy, the nearness of such an act. But it’s not
enough for Jesus to heal the man—as miraculous as that
is—and Jesus won’t stop there. After the man, now able
to see, is driven out of the synagogue, Jesus searches and
finds him once again. He closes the distance and brings
him into a new relationship which is punctuated by the
man’s profound confession, “Lord, I believe.”
Our scripture readings this week show us again and again
that our God is a relational God. We have a God who
accompanies us, sees and seeks us, heals us. Because
of our relationship with God—this relationship we call
salvation—we are empowered and called to do the same
for the sake of our neighbors. May it be so!
Relational God, help us to live out of our salvation and
draw near to others as Jesus did so as to share your
abiding and transformative love. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 8 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Saturday, March 25
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 4 (ELW 322)
For us, Jesus gave his whole life. This means that Jesus
died for us, yes, but also, that Jesus lived for us. Jesus
prayed and taught and worked for us until his last breath.
But what I especially appreciate about Thomas á Kempis’
hymn, “Oh, Love, How Deep,” is the way in which it not
only shares what Jesus did, but for whom—for us. This is
a radical message—especially in a world that tells us in
so many ways we are not good enough. We’re not smart
enough, strong enough, attractive enough, rich enough…
In emphasizing our lack, the world so often reduces us
and divides us from one another.
But Jesus’ invitation was and is for us—all of us. For us
he gave his whole life, seeking out the outcast and the
marginalized. His acts were not exclusionary; rather, they
were acts of restoration. They were acts of restoring
people to themselves, to one another and to God—
restoration to a wholeness the likes of which the world
cannot comprehend.
Holy God, we give thanks that for us Jesus gave his whole
life so that we might have wholeness in you. Amen.
Monday, March 27
Ezekiel 37:1-14
When I ponder the mystery that is the resurrection of the
body, which we affirm whenever we recite the Apostles’
Creed, I think about this passage from Ezekiel. Bones of
people long dead, bones bearing the chips and breaks of
ancient warfare, bones picked clean by animals, bones
scattered and separated, suddenly find their mates, fuse
together, take on a new layer of flesh and are ready
to receive the breath of God again. For Ezekiel, these
bones represent the people of Israel, decimated by war,
starving in their own land or scattered outside of it, losing
hope and doubting the faithfulness of their God. God
makes new life for Israel arise from a valley full of nextto-nothing. With Ezekiel, we look upon the rising, dancing
bones and remember that our God brings life out of
death, and that God’s own breath can animate whatever
next-to-nothing we bring.
Faithful God, in the midst of so many signs of death and
brokenness in our world, help us to see the surprising
gift of life and hope that you offer through your creative
power among us. Amen.
Tuesday, March 28
Sunday, March 26
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 4 (ELW 322)
By words and signs and actions, Jesus gave his whole life
for us. This means, of course, that Jesus gave his whole
life for you. Truly, that is a deep love. Can you let yourself
sink into that love? As I noted in yesterday’s reflections,
the world tends to emphasize our lack and reduce us to
our faults and flaws—so much so that it can be difficult to
escape the sense of not being enough. But God knew full
well the shortcomings of our humanity before deciding
to send Jesus to us. God knew of our brokenness and
sinfulness, but loved us still.
In Christ, you are not defined by what you have done, or
failed to do. Nor are you defined by what has been done
to you. You are defined by what Jesus has done for you.
Receive that love and sink into the depths of it—letting it
pour over, into and out of you. You are enough because
God through Jesus has made it so.
O God, the world says I am not enough, but you say I am
your beloved. Help me to receive your love, that I might
also share it. Amen.
Psalm 130
I wonder what it was like to be a night watchman on the
wall of ancient Jerusalem, eyes peeled and body tensed
to meet any coming threat. I imagine it was something
like the feeling I had the night my infant daughter had
a very high fever; the nurse told me to give her Tylenol
and then watch her until the morning, to make sure the
fever went down rather than up. I was exhausted and
afraid, and yet also hopeful that relief would come in
the morning. Our wait—our hope—for redemption from
the Lord contains a similar mix of fear, frustration and
hopeful anticipation. The word for “depths” in the psalm,
from which the psalmist cries out, refers particularly to
deep waters; how much more difficult it is to hear sound
underwater! And yet the expectation that God will hear
our cries and bring change for us persists. Even with the
waters swirling around us, we continue to hope—even
more than a mother clutching a feverish baby, even more
than a night watchman trying to make it to the morning
in peace.
O God of Presence, be with us in our watching and our
waiting. Help us live in hope, knowing that at the end of
our dark nights there will come the morning promise of
your redemption and healing. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 9 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Wednesday, March 29
Romans 8:6-11
“If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells
in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life
to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells
in you.” The language of resurrection from the dead can
sometimes lead us to think only of life after death. Yet
this verse from Paul’s letter to the Romans reminds us
that the resurrection also brings us life before death. The
Spirit gives life. The Spirit that animates us each day is the
same Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead. In
our prayers for healing, for the flourishing of our families,
for justice in the world, we can rejoice that the deathdefeating power of the Holy Spirit breathes life into each
moment of our lives.
God of life and hope, help us to know the presence of
your Spirit, who comes to remind us of your resurrection
promise, and help us to know that with the Spirit comes
your promise of justice and healing for our world. Amen.
Thursday, March 30
John 11:1-45
Jesus’ words to Martha from John 11:25-26 are familiar,
comforting words often read at funerals: “I am the
resurrection and the life.” Jesus’ last question to Martha
in that speech, though, is often left out: “Do you believe
me?” When I read this passage, the question startles
me, and I pause to consider my own answer. Do I believe
that everyone who lives and believes in Jesus will never
die? I am catapulted to Mark 9:24, where the father of
the possessed boy says, “I believe; help my unbelief!”
Like most of us, I live every day somewhere along the
spectrum between belief and unbelief. Some days I am
completely confident in God’s resurrection power. On
other days I am less sure, and I need more help with
my unbelief. On those hard days I am grateful for the
witness of the saints who have come before us, for my
worshipping community that holds me up, and for the
grace of new mercies each morning.
Lord, I need your help each day. I trust your promise, but
so often I lived poised between belief and unbelief. Thank
you for being present in my need, and for the witness of
those who surround and sustain me with the signs of your
mercy and grace. Amen.
Friday, March 31
John 11:1-45
We are assured over and over again that even in our
suffering, God is with us. And yet, most of us suspect,
at one time or another, that Mary and Martha are
absolutely right: if God were with us, our brother—or our
mother, our child, our friend—would not have died. We
would not have gotten cancer. We would not have lost
our home. Sometimes it seems like Jesus is always two
days late leaving for Judea. In those seasons of our lives,
we must dare to read to the end of this story. For the end
of the Lazarus story is not, in fact, the end of Lazarus, but
a new beginning for him. The same God who breathes
into Ezekiel’s dry bones also orders Lazarus out of the
tomb and raises Jesus from the dead on Easter morning.
And that same God will, in the fullness of time, redeem
creation and raise us all to new life.
O God, sometimes it is hard to see your presence in the
midst of the dry seasons of our lives. Help us to know that
even in the dark times, you are near to bring new life and
hope for each new day. Amen.
Saturday, April 1
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 5 (ELW 322)
The fifth verse from the hymn “Oh, Love, How Deep”
focuses on the parts of Lent that are some of the most
difficult ones for us to reckon with: Jesus’ pain on the
cross, and our culpability in his suffering and death.
Crucifixion was indeed both a painful and shameful
way to die in the Roman Empire. The repetition of “for
us” throughout this verse drives home the fact that
we participated in causing Jesus’ pain. We know that
we would have shouted “Crucify him!” along with the
crowds. We know that we, like Paul, do the evil we do not
want (Romans 7:19). Yet the “for us” is also good news:
in Jesus’ dying and rising, we have become “dead to sin
and alive to God in Jesus Christ” (Romans 6:11). As the
cross of Good Friday looms ever closer, we must not turn
away from the pain of Christ’s death, but neither should
we ever forget the good news of Jesus’ resurrection—and
our own—that awaits us.
O God of compassion, as we journey toward Good Friday
and the cross, help us to see Jesus’ pain and suffering as
signs of the depth of your love, and to live in humble yet
confident thanks that all that he gave was “for us.” Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 10 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Sunday, April 2
Tuesday, April 4
I never cease to be amazed at the means human
beings devise to hurt one another, both physically and
emotionally. The crown of thorns is one such innovation.
It mocks the claims that Jesus is “king,” and it causes
him physical pain as he wears it. Crucifixion is similarly
creative: a slow and torturous death, as well as a public
one, reminding anyone who sees it of the power of the
Roman Empire. What would it be like to channel the
energy that creates instruments of death into working
for good in the world? When the prophet Isaiah envisions
the beating of spears into pruning hooks, he expresses
a similar longing to channel the energy put into creating
instruments of death into the forging of the tools that
sustain life. This Lenten season, consider how your
energy is used: does it go toward holding onto grudges?
Toward dreaming up the most hurtful thing to say to one
who has hurt you first? Or is your energy used for the
deepest, broadest, highest kind of love you can muster?
Today we hear another example of the humiliations
those who suffer endure. The psalmist cries out with
grief as his body wastes away in fear. The images are
visceral: his misery weighs heavily upon him, giving him
the appearance of a decaying corpse as his loved ones
desert him and his enemies scheme against him. He has
absolutely nothing left to him but to hope and trust that
the steadfast love of the Lord will deliver him from his
humiliation into safety.
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 5 (ELW 322)
O God of Love, we know too well the many ways in which
we have used our energies to work for death rather than
good in our world. May the depth of your love for us
in Jesus inspire and empower us anew to channel our
energies in the ways of life and hope. Amen.
Psalm 31:9-16
Maybe you’ve experienced this kind of paralyzing fear
and despair. It manifests itself in infinite ways and in
varying degrees—it is the terror of families caught in
war-torn Aleppo; the grief of parents who’ve lost a
child; the despondency of those gripped by addiction;
the loneliness of the bullied. It is Jesus in Gethsemane.
But the psalmist reminds us that out of infinite love
God delivers. Though suffering and death may have us
cornered, they do not have the final word. We will not be
left in our humiliation, for the Lord will deliver us.
Lord, make your face to shine upon all those who suffer. In
our despair help us to trust in your steadfast love, for you
are our God. Amen.
Monday, April 3
Isaiah 50:4-9
This week’s Old Testament reading drops us into the
humiliation of Israel’s exile. Because of their sins, God
has handed Israel over to foreign empires. The Israelites
are scattered away from their homeland, suffering under
the oppressive force of the Babylonians, Assyrians and
Persians. And yet in the midst of that pain, that suffering,
that humiliation, the Lord speaks to Isaiah and gives him
a word of comfort for a broken people. Isaiah proclaims
a word of hope in the Lord’s promise to help, save and
vindicate all those who suffer humiliation.
Suffering and persecution are as present today as they
were in Isaiah’s time. Where do you see suffering and
persecution in your world? Still today the Lord vindicates
all those who suffer persecution by offering a word
of hope that someday they will be raised from their
humiliation. How will you bring that word of hope to the
persecuted?
God of all vindication and justice, forgive us for the ways
we contribute to the suffering of the world, and provide us
your word of hope to sustain the persecuted. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 11 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Wednesday, April 5
Thursday, April 6
This so called Christ hymn dramatically tells the story
of Jesus. In the first half, Jesus forsakes his godly
prerogatives and takes on the frail form of humanity.
That act of humility quickly turns to humiliation as the
world takes advantage of Jesus’ humanity, insulting,
beating and crucifying him. In his obedience, Jesus
willingly takes on the sufferings so powerfully portrayed
in Isaiah 50 and Psalm 31. Precisely because of that
obedience, God exalts Jesus, lifting him out of his
humiliation and giving him the name above every other.
In a wonderful act of love, Christ came to earth to share
in our human sufferings, and we, by God’s grace, now get
to share in Christ’s exaltation.
I’ve always seen Palm Sunday as a “calm before the
storm” in Lent. After many chapters of conniving
Pharisees, demonic forces and ignorant disciples, Jesus
arrives in Jerusalem, greeted with glorious fanfare. For
this short time, at least, it seems that all is well. But it is
precisely that calm that confuses me. How, in the span
of one short week, does the crowd’s shouting turn from
“hosanna!” to “crucify!”?
Philippians 2:5-11
Matthew 21:1-11
But we daily live in the middle of this hymn. While it helps
us to see that we have already been exalted with Christ,
our lives don’t always fully reflect that fact. So like Isaiah
and the psalmist, we wait in hope, hope that one day our
sufferings will disappear and we will come to dwell fully
with Christ in exaltation.
God of humiliation, God of exaltation, we dwell with your
Christ in his sufferings just as he dwells with us in ours.
Sustain within us the hope that one day, our sufferings will
cease and we will live with you in everlasting exaltation.
Amen.
Perhaps that tension is exactly the point. Once again
we are given a dissonant juxtaposition of humility and
exaltation. Matthew quotes the prophet Zechariah, “Look,
your king is coming to you, humble.” And indeed Jesus
enters Jerusalem in humility on a donkey. But the crowds
exalt Jesus, willing this prophet to become a mighty king,
a valiant warrior. They cannot understand that Jesus’
exaltation can only result from his future humiliation.
And so as Jesus fails to be the warrior-king the crowds
expect, their exaltation dissolves into hate. Underneath
the shouts of “hosanna!” lie the powerful shouts of
“crucify!” that bring Jesus to his ultimate humiliation. But
through that humiliation Jesus also receives the true
exaltation, that is, resurrection.
Lord, as we prepare to enter Holy Week, let us be like your
Christ, seeking not empty exaltation, but holy humility.
Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 12 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Friday, April 7
Sunday, April 9
Matthew 27:11-54
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 6 (ELW 322)
In today’s reading we reach the events toward which
we have been building all week. In this gut-wrenching
account of the crucifixion from Matthew’s gospel we
see Jesus’ final humiliation. As in Isaiah and Philippians,
we see Jesus walking to his death in obedience to God
at the hands of his captors. As in the psalm, cornered
by his enemies, we see Jesus entering into utter despair.
Humiliation and exaltation converge once again as the
soldiers of the governor press a crown of thorns on Jesus’
head, put a reed in his hand and throw a purple robe
on his back. In mocking tones they “exalt” Jesus, all the
while humbling him and preparing him for the ultimate
humiliation: crucifixion. In this horrible account of abuse
and humiliation Jesus takes the sufferings of the whole
world upon himself, submitting to the will of his captors
that he might, in turn, free them.
Stand with us in this hour, O Lord, as we prepare to
spend the week remembering your son’s suffering and
death. Purge the sin from our lives and keep our eyes ever
focused on the hope of your promised exaltation. Amen.
Saturday, April 8
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 6 (ELW 322)
This hymn serves as a word of hope from God as we
prepare to enter into the darkness of Holy Week. The first
two lines of verse six are reminiscent of the second half
of the Christ hymn in Philippians. They are the hopeful
and glorious culmination of yesterday’s challenging and
despairing reading from Matthew. In the end, our God,
Jesus the Christ, triumphs over death. In the midst of
his humiliating death, God reaches into the grave and
pulls Jesus out, exalting him to the highest place in the
universe through the glory of the resurrection. So as
you prepare to enter a week of reflecting on Christ’s
sufferings, and as you continue to endure your own and
watch your neighbors endure their own, remember of
this Christ that “for us he went on high to reign.” As
we heard from Isaiah on Monday, the sufferings and
humiliations of your life do not have the last word, for
in the midst of that darkness you have a hope: the Lord
will vindicate you and you will be exalted to the highest
places with Christ.
Heavenly Father, we give you praise and thanks that your
story does not end in the grave, but rather puts an end to
the grave. Thank you for giving us the hope that while we
may endure humiliation, we can, by your grace, expect
exaltation with Christ. Amen.
Our reflections this past week have centered on
humiliation and exaltation: we saw Isaiah and the
psalmist endure humiliation by putting their hope in the
Lord. We saw Jesus endure the strange juxtaposition
of humiliation and exaltation as he went to his death in
Jerusalem. And in Philippians, we saw how Christ took on
our sufferings so that we might, through God’s grace, be
exalted with Christ.
The second half of verse six of our hymn tells us that
our exaltation with Christ is not the end; rather, it is the
beginning. Exalted with Christ through his resurrection,
Jesus has sent us his Spirit “to guide, to strengthen, and
to cheer.” While we can enjoy the promise that we are
exalted with Christ, we are exalted but for one purpose:
to serve our neighbors. In exaltation Christ has sent us
the Holy Spirit so that we might do the unexpected: enter
back into humiliation to bring God’s word of hope to
those who suffer.
Lord, as we enter into the darkness of Holy Week, remind
us that we are exalted with Christ, and in that exaltation
we are free to enter fearlessly into the suffering of the
world to bring your word of hope. Amen.
Monday, April 10
Isaiah 42:1-9
We enter into Holy Week reading one of the “servant
songs” from Isaiah. The servant described in Isaiah 42
is a paradoxical figure. On the one hand, he will “bring
forth justice to the nations,” a task that would seem to
require immense power. On the other hand, “a bruised
reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will
not quench.” This servant of the Lord does not meet the
world’s expectations of a warrior king; he does not fit the
notion that “might makes right.” Instead, his way of ruling
is that of a servant king whose saving power reaches into
the deepest dungeons and the darkest prisons, to give
light to the blind and to set the prisoners free. This kind
of power upends the usual way of things in this world; it
confounds tyrants and gives hope to the oppressed. No
wonder Christians from earliest times have identified the
“servant” in Isaiah with Jesus the Christ, who yesterday
entered Jerusalem in glory but will soon bear the cross to
Calvary.
Give us hearts to love, O God, and hands to serve, as we
follow the example of your son, our savior, in whose name
we pray. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 13 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Tuesday, April 11
Wednesday, April 12
The writers of the psalms are not shy. They insist that
God act on their behalf and do so now: “O Lord, make
haste to help me!” “O Lord, do not delay!” Neither do
they hesitate to pray against their enemies: “Let those
be put to shame and confusion who seek my life.” These
are honest and often gut-wrenching prayers. They are
also faithful prayers, as they hold God to God’s promises,
trusting that God will fulfill those promises.
I have never been much of an athlete, but I have always
loved the imagery of this passage: a track and field
stadium, an Olympic-size stadium, the stands all around
the track filled to overflowing with the “great cloud of
witnesses.” And in that great cloud of witnesses are those
saints we have loved—for me, Grandma and Grandpa,
Uncle Herbert and Aunt Viola, Dad—along with the
people of faith listed in the previous chapter—Abraham,
Isaac and Jacob, Moses, Rahab and countless others who
through the centuries have lived by faith.
Psalm 70
Hebrews 12:1-3
Jesus prays one of the psalms from the cross: “My God,
my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Ps 22:1). And the
psalm for today would certainly be appropriate to Jesus’
situation, as his enemies plot against him. We know,
however, that in the end, he prays for his enemies, not
against them: “Father, forgive them, for they know not
what they do.” This is good news for us, because, as Paul
writes, “while we were enemies, we were reconciled to
God through the death of his son” (Rom 5:10).
Lord, teach us to pray honestly, trusting that you hear,
knowing that you are faithful. In the name of Jesus. Amen.
And we? We are the ones running the race, cheered on
by those in the stands, those we have loved and those
we have never met. Sometimes we run through tears,
sometimes we only manage to walk, but we persevere,
looking to Jesus, “who for the sake of the joy that was
set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame,
and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of
God.”
As you run the race this Holy Week, follow the example
of Jesus. Keep on keeping on. And know that you are
surrounded by the communion of saints, the great cloud
of witnesses, who are cheering you on.
Lord God, we give thanks for the saints who have gone
before us. Give us their faith, that we might run with
perseverance the race that is set before us. In the name of
Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 14 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Maundy Thursday, April 13
Holy Saturday, April 15
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
“Oh, Love, How Deep,” verse 7 (ELW 322)
The scene in this passage is poignant. Jesus knows what
is coming—his arrest, trial and death on a cross—but his
thoughts are only for those he loves: “Having loved his
own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”
The hymn that has helped guide our Lenten journey ends
with praise and adoration for God, because of the same
love that it celebrated at the beginning of the song—a
love “so deep, so high, so broad” that God would take on
“mortal form for mortals’ sake.” That love led Jesus, our
servant king, to teach and serve and heal, and eventually
led him to death on a cross.
The Son of God shows himself here again to be a servant
king. Human rulers expect to be served; they do not
serve. They are self-focused and (too often) self-serving.
Jesus shows us a different way. He does what no master
would do; he ties a towel around his waist and washes his
disciples’ callused, dusty feet. And then he tells them to
do the same—to be servants to one another.
The other gospel writers speak of the institution of Holy
Communion on this day. John instead describes a humble
act of service, the washing of tired feet. Both are acts of
love, enacted by a Lord who, even in the face of death,
continues to care for those around him. This is our Lord;
let us follow where he leads.
Lord Jesus, you loved your disciples to the end. Teach us
to follow you, seeking not to be served but to serve and to
pour out our lives in love for the world. Amen.
Now on this Holy Saturday, in between the grief of Good
Friday and the promised joy of Easter Sunday, we wait
with bated breath. But isn’t this where we dwell most
of the time, if truth be told? Living in a world that toooften breaks our hearts, we trust that Christ has indeed
conquered sin and death and we await the final victory.
We live in the in-between time, Holy Saturday, but as we
do so, we sing with the saints a song of praise to our God,
the Holy Trinity, forever and forevermore.
In this in-between time, O God, this now-and-not-yet time,
open our lips to sing your praise, our eyes to see your glory,
and our hearts to know your love. Amen.
Good Friday, April 14
John 19:1-30
We hear again today the story of Jesus’ arrest, trial,
beating and crucifixion. Pilate—being the cynical,
seasoned politician that he is—cannot understand this
man. “What is truth?” he asks Jesus mockingly with no
expectation of an answer. And then Pilate’s soldiers dress
Jesus in royal purple and place a crown of thorns on his
head, hailing him as “King of the Jews” as they beat him.
Pilate puts up a sarcastic sign on the cross over Jesus’
head, a dig not just at the broken, bloody man on the
cross but also at the Jews. You want a king? Here he is:
“Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” When the chief
priests object, he responds, “What I have written I have
written.”
It is no small twist of irony that the cynical Roman
governor unwittingly answers his own question. What
is the truth? This is the truth—that this man, pouring
out his life on the cross for the sake of the world, is king.
What wondrous love is this, O my soul!
Lord Jesus Christ, we acclaim you as our servant king. Be
with us in our own times of suffering and grant us to live
with you in your kingdom which has no end. Amen.
2017 Lenten Devotional | 15 | Luther Seminary
Oh, Love, How Deep
Easter Sunday, April 16
John 20:1-18
Easter begins in darkness. Mary Magdalene rises before
dawn to go to Jesus’ tomb, there to mourn. But when she
reaches the tomb, the stone is rolled away and the body
of her Teacher is gone.
Easter begins in grief. Still mourning the events of Friday,
Mary now weeps because she cannot even tend to the
body of her Lord. “They have taken away my Lord, and I
do not know where they have laid him.”
Easter begins in death, at a tomb, with linen wrappings
and a hundred pounds of myrrh, meant to prepare Jesus’
body for burial.
And then—“Mary.”
At the sound of her name on his lips, everything changes.
Light breaks through darkness. Joy shatters grief. Life
conquers death. And Mary becomes the first apostle to
the apostles, “I have seen the Lord!”
“We are an Easter people,” said Pope John Paul II, “and
‘Alleluia’ is our song.” We are an Easter people. Even in
the midst of darkness, grief and death, we are an Easter
people, because Jesus is risen and we, too, shall rise
when he calls our names. Such is our proclamation. Such
is our Easter hope. Such is our song: “Alleluia! Alleluia!”
Contributing Writers:
Jessica Christy, M.Th. Student
March 2; March 6-12
Mark Throntveit, Professor and Elva B. Lovell Chair of
Old Testament
March 1; March 13-19
Annie Langseth, M.Div. Student
March 4; March 20-26
Cameron B. R. Howard, Assistant Professor of Old
Testament
March 3; March 27-April 2
Jim Vitale, M.Div. Student
April 3-9
Kathryn Schifferdecker, Associate Professor of Old
Testament; Bible Division Chair
March 5; April 10-16
Theological Editor:
James Boyce, Professor Emeritus of New Testament
Oh, Love, How Deep is a Luther Seminary publication.
Risen Christ, fill our hearts with Easter hope and Easter
“alleluias,” that we might be witnesses to your resurrection
power at work in our lives and in our world. In your most
holy name we pray. Amen.
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2017 Lenten Devotional | 16 | Luther Seminary