Category Archives: Special Devotion

Devotional, Series, Special Devotion

Sacred Signs of Subversion, Special Devotion: Collars, Robes, and Stoles

Leave a comment

Read Matthew 23:1–12

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“Clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.” (Colossians 3:12 NLT)

Symbols carry memory and meaning far beyond words. The Church has always leaned on them—sometimes hidden in plain sight, sometimes dismissed or distorted. Yet the most powerful symbols are those that subvert the world’s expectations and draw us back to the radical heart of the Gospel. In this series, we’ll look closer at the sacred signs that shock, unsettle, and ultimately call us deeper into Christ.

A folded clerical collar rests on a plain robe, with a red-and-beige stole draped across them on a wooden altar table. Warm morning light streams through a stained-glass window, symbolizing humility, transparency, and Christ’s shared yoke of service.
Image: AI-generated using DALL·E and customized by the author. Used with the devotional “The Collar, the Robe, and the Stole” at Life-Giving Water Devotions.

Special Edition: Collars, Robes, and Stoles. The collar, the robe, and the stole. In some churches, these garments can feel like litmus tests. Robe up, collar up, stole up—or even dress up—because that’s how it’s always been done. For many, they hold deep reverence, reminders of a time when sanctuaries were full and traditions were shared across generations. There’s nothing wrong with that nostalgia; it’s part of our story. But reverence can quietly turn to rigidity. When clothing becomes a credential for faithfulness, we risk mistaking habit for holiness.

The clerical collar began as a symbol of service—a visible sign that the one who wore it was yoked to Christ and bound to serve. It was never meant as a badge of rank. Over time, though, collars began to carry other meanings: authority, professionalism, even fear. For some, the collar has come to represent not safety but suspicion. The sins of the church have stained the fabric; the collar that once marked servanthood has too often been used to hide control. Yet its truest meaning remains: a quiet reminder that ministry is not ownership but obedience, not privilege but burden.

The robe began as a simple covering—worn by scholars and clergy alike to erase distinction. It was meant to conceal individuality, to say, “Before God, we are all the same.” Over time, robes became ornate, hierarchical, sometimes theatrical. They came to separate rather than unite. Still, the robe can remind us that when we stand before God, titles and talents fade. The robe isn’t meant to elevate the wearer but to lower the ego. It’s not costume—it’s supposed to be camouflage.

The stole traces back to the towel a servant would drape over their arm. Early Christians linked it to Jesus’ act of washing his disciples’ feet. It symbolized the weight of ministry—the responsibility to serve, to stoop, to bear one another’s burdens. In time, it also came to represent the yoke of Christ, reminding the one who wears it that ministry is never self-driven but shared with the Savior who said, “My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Over the centuries, the stole has become ornate and color-coded, a mark of office or season. But the truest stole is still the towel of service, the fabric of humility. If we wear it rightly, it should remind us that authority in Christ is always exercised from our knees—and that all Christians, not just clergy, are called to carry the same towel and yoke of humble service.

We remember the days when these symbols were everywhere—collars in the community, robes in every chancel, stoles changing colors with the calendar. But those years were not as innocent as we remember. Behind the beauty of tradition, harm sometimes hid in plain sight. Titles and vestments that once promised safety were sometimes used to silence, to cover, to control. That’s a hard truth to name, but it must be named if the Church is to heal and be a healing presence in the world.

These garments can still mean something sacred, but only if they’re worn with repentance and transparency. And as Ecclesiastes 3 says, there is a time and season for everything. If anything might stand as a stumbling block between God and another person, it should not be done just for tradition’s sake.

For some these are signs of the sacred—for others, signs of sin and evil committed in the name of God. That is why I choose to robe during Communion Sundays, high holy days, and special occasions—and remain more “me” and approachable the rest of the time. There is no one right way, but that has become my practice.

The question isn’t whether we wear them. The question is whether we live what they mean. The collar, the robe, and the stole can still witness to humility and grace—but only when they point beyond the wearer to Christ. When they become ends in themselves, they’re idols. When they become tools for service, they’re sacraments. Maybe the most subversive act of all is to remember that the truest vestment isn’t on our shoulders—it’s in our spirit. Compassion. Kindness. Humility. Gentleness. Patience. These are the garments the world still needs to see.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
[Enter Thought of the Day]

PRAYER
Christ our Servant, strip us of vanity and clothe us in truth. Whether we robe or not, let our lives reflect your humility. Make every symbol we wear a sign of grace, not power. Amen.

Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).

Devotional, Special Devotion

When Leaders Become Idols

Leave a comment

Read Galatians 1:6-10

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“You must not have any other god but me.” (Exodus 20:3 NLT)

Clasped hands in prayer cast a shadow onto a cracked stone pedestal, symbolizing devotion to God contrasted with the fragility of human idolatry.
Image: AI-generated using DALL·E and customized by the author. Used with the devotional “When Leaders Become Idols” at Life-Giving Water Devotions.

Images carry memory. They do more than decorate; they shape what we remember, how we interpret it, and what we pass on. In the wake of someone’s death, images become especially powerful. They can comfort us, stir hope, or even rewrite legacies. Yesterday, Charlie Kirk was laid to rest. His death is a tragedy. No matter where one stood on his views, his life bore sacred worth because every human life does. As Christians, we grieve that worth is no longer among us, and we entrust him, like all of us, to the mercy of God.

But as I watched the days following his death unfold, the images being shared caught my attention. One came from an individual Christian’s page: a meme depicting Charlie standing with Jesus. The caption reads, “Lord, I could have led more to you.” To which Jesus responds, “Son, you have no idea how many you just did.” It is sentimental, heartfelt, and born of grief—a way for friends and followers to express hope and consolation.

And yet, this is terrible theology. At its most basic level, it implies that Charlie’s most successful method of leading people to Jesus was being shot. Few pause to consider what such words actually mean. More troubling still is the assumption beneath the image—that Kirk’s daily mode of operation was genuinely bringing people to Christ. We can grant that he may have sincerely believed that he was. But sincerity alone does not make something true. Nowhere does Jesus, Paul, or any of the apostles call us to partisanship as the divine message of Christ. Quite the opposite. And yet, the public fruit of Charlie’s message so often pointed people not to the kingdom of God, but to a political movement wrapped in loyalty to a President and a party.

That message also leaned heavily on “us versus them” thinking. Instead of Christ’s call to love our neighbor, it sharpened lines between insiders and outsiders, friends and enemies. Misunderstanding was pushed into fear, and fear was turned into fuel. But Scripture tells us plainly, “There is no fear in love. Perfect love drives out fear” (1 John 4:18). When the gospel is twisted into a weapon of division, it ceases to be good news at all.

A second image came from Reformed Sage, a Christian business and influencer brand. Their meme declared, “Charlie Kirk, martyred for the Gospel of Jesus Christ, now wears the crown in glory. His work has just begun.” Unlike the personal meme born of grief, this one was not simply comfort—it was propaganda, framing Charlie as a martyr and rallying followers to double down in the culture wars.

Here lies the danger. Images like these reveal how easily leaders can be mythologized, sanctified, even idolized. When we place leaders at the center, we risk confusing the faith once delivered to the saints with the culture wars of our age. Paul told the Corinthians, “One of you says, ‘I follow Paul’; another, ‘I follow Apollos’… Is Christ divided?” (1 Corinthians 1:12–13). Our allegiance is not to personalities, no matter how charismatic or influential. The first commandment is equally clear: “You must not have any other god but me.”

As Christians, we must take care not to canonize public figures whose legacies are complicated. Christianity does not need celebrity martyrs or culture-war champions. It needs Christ. When our symbols glorify leaders more than the Lord, we risk exchanging the cross for an idol. When our grief turns into rallying cries for ideology, we risk forgetting that the only crown that matters is the one Christ bore on Calvary.

So how do we respond? First, with compassion. We mourn Charlie’s death and pray for his family and loved ones. We affirm his life mattered, as all lives do. Second, with discernment. We refuse to let images, however sentimental or stirring, distract us from Christ’s call to love mercy, do justice, and walk humbly. And third, with courage. We must not confuse loud platforms with faithful witness. The measure of the gospel is not the number of followers one amasses, but the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22–23).

Let us grieve as Christians who hope, but let us also guard the gospel entrusted to us. Christ alone is Lord. No leader—no matter how loved or influential—can bear that title.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
The gospel is not advanced by platforms or politics, but by lives that bear the fruit of Christ’s Spirit.

PRAYER
Merciful God, you alone are worthy of our allegiance. Teach us to honor life without idolizing leaders. In our grief, give us compassion; in our confusion, give us discernment; in our witness, give us courage. Keep us centered on Christ alone, who is the way, the truth, and the life. Amen.

Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of ChatGPT (OpenAI).

Devotional, Special Devotion

When the Music’s Over: An Earth Day Devotion

Leave a comment

Read Psalm 24

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“I brought you into a fertile land to eat its fruit and rich produce. But you came and defiled my land and made my inheritance detestable.” (Jeremiah 2:7, NLT)

Image: AI-generated by ChatGPT (OpenAI) and customized by the author in Photoshop. Used with the devotional “When the Music’s Over: An Earth Day Devotion” at Life-Giving Water Devotions.

Jim Morrison and The Doors have been a major artistic influence in my life. Jim’s introspective and often profound lyrics, his poetic brilliance, and his uncompromising willingness to confront death and darkness have deeply resonated with me. The Doors’ mind-bending and unique blend of music has left an indelible mark on my artistic sensibilities. Few artists have had a greater influence on me.

The title “When the Music’s Over” comes from The Doors’ powerful song that delivers an environmental message far ahead of its time. This phrase carries a sense of urgency and finality, much like the environmental crisis we face today. It prompts us to ask: What will be left when the music of nature falls silent?

In the song, Morrison’s haunting lyrics cry out, “What have they done to the Earth? What have they done to our fair sister?” This lament for our planet’s destruction echoes the sentiments expressed in Jeremiah 2:7, where God rebukes humanity for defiling the land He provided.

The Doors’ environmental awareness in 1967 was revolutionary, predating much of the mainstream environmental movement. Their call to action, “We want the world and we want it… Now!” resonates with the urgency we feel today about climate change and environmental degradation.

Psalm 24 provides a biblical foundation for this environmental concern. It begins by declaring, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.” This fundamental truth reminds us that we are not owners of this planet, but stewards. God has entrusted us with the care of His creation, much like He placed Adam in the Garden of Eden to “work it and take care of it” (Genesis 2:15).

The Psalm goes on to ask, “Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord? Who may stand in his holy place?” The answer describes those with “clean hands and a pure heart.” In the context of environmental stewardship, we might ask ourselves: Are our hands clean in our treatment of God’s creation? Are our hearts pure in our motivations and actions towards the environment?

Jim Morrison’s lyrics paint a vivid picture of environmental destruction: “Ravaged and plundered and ripped her and bit her, Stuck her with knives in the side of the dawn, And tied her with fences and dragged her down.” This poetic description of Earth’s mistreatment stands in stark contrast to the reverence for creation expressed in Psalm 24.

The Psalm concludes with a powerful image of the “King of glory” entering. This reminds us that ultimately, God is in control and will bring about restoration. However, this doesn’t absolve us of our responsibility. Just as The Doors called for immediate action, we too are called to be active participants in caring for God’s creation.

As we reflect on Psalm 24, Jeremiah 2:7, and the prophetic environmental message of “When the Music’s Over,” we’re challenged to examine our role as stewards of God’s creation. Are we treating the Earth as something that belongs to us to exploit, or are we honoring it as God’s possession? Are we standing idly by as our “fair sister” is ravaged, or are we answering the call to action?

The environmental crisis we face today requires the same urgency and passion that Jim Morrison expressed over 50 years ago. It demands that we, as God’s people, live up to the standard set in Psalm 24 – with clean hands and pure hearts, actively working to protect and restore God’s creation.

Let us heed both the biblical mandate and the rock star’s lament. When it comes to caring for our planet, we must act before the music’s over – it’s time for us to join the song of creation care.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
God owns the Earth; we’re called to be its caretakers, not its exploiters.

PRAYER
Lord, give us clean hands and pure hearts to care for Your creation as faithful stewards. Amen.

Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of Perplexity AI.

“What have they done to the Earth? What have they done to our fair sister?”
From The Doors – “When the Music’s Over” (Official Audio). A haunting, poetic call to environmental awareness—decades before its time.
Devotional, Special Devotion

Legacy

2 Comments

Read Acts 4:32-35

ALSO IN SCRIPTURE
“The generous will prosper; those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed” (Proverbs 11:25 NLT).

Image created by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of AI developed by Microsoft.

As I begin my first day as pastor of East Bangor United Methodist Community Church, following several years as the pastor of First United Methodist Church of Newton, I find myself reflecting on the concept of legacy. What mark do we leave on the communities we serve? How do our actions ripple through time, touching lives long after we’re gone?

One individual whose legacy continues to shape Newton is Newman E. Drake. Born in Andover, NJ in 1860, Drake founded Drake’s Bakeries, creating beloved treats like Ring Dings, Devil Dogs, and Funny Bones. However, it’s his contributions to Newton that truly highlight his legacy of giving.

In 1928, Drake purchased and donated 10.84 acres of land to Newton, which became Memory Park. This park, envisioned as “a playground and general recreation field under direction of the Town of Newton,” has provided countless residents with a place to gather, play, and create memories for nearly a century. My family and I have enjoyed Memory Park, along with many other families in the area. Drake’s generosity didn’t stop there; he also supported the opening of the original Newton Theatre in 1924, which continues to enrich the cultural life of our community. My family and I have also enjoyed performances at the Newton Theatre, and we look forward to many more in the future.

Drake’s spirit of community involvement and generosity has inspired many others in Newton over the years. In fact, my connection to the Newton Rotary Club has been instrumental in teaching me about the ongoing legacy of generosity found in Sussex County. The Rotary Club, which was present when Newman Drake donated Memory Park in 1928, is currently celebrating its centennial year (July 2023-June 2024), marking 100 years of contributing to local and global causes. As the club’s past president for 2022-2023, I had the privilege of witnessing firsthand the impact of Rotary’s service and generosity in our community.

Interestingly, Drake’s legacy of giving continues even today. In 2016, McKee Foods, the current owner of Drake’s Cakes, donated $20,000 to improve Memory Park, funding a new pavilion and outdoor furniture. This gift demonstrates how one act of generosity can inspire others and continue to benefit a community for generations.

Drake’s story reminds me of the early Christian community described in Acts 4:32-35, where believers shared everything they had, ensuring that no one among them was in need. Like those early Christians, Drake used his success to benefit others, embodying the principle found in Proverbs 11:25 that “those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed.”

As we approach Independence Day, I’m reminded that the spirit of generosity exemplified by Drake is part of the foundation upon which our nation was built. The Founding Fathers, in their pursuit of freedom and justice, also sought to create a society where individuals could prosper and contribute to the common good.

This spirit of giving back to one’s community isn’t limited to our local history. It’s a universal ideal, exemplified by figures like Bob Marley, whose music we celebrate on International Reggae Day (July 1). Marley, like Drake, used his success to uplift his community. As a person of faith, Marley’s Rastafarian beliefs, which have roots in Christianity, deeply influenced his music and activism. One of Marley’s most notable contributions was the One Love Peace Concert held on April 22, 1978, in Kingston, Jamaica, just over two months after I was born. This concert was a significant event during a political civil war in Jamaica, where Marley famously brought together political rivals Michael Manley and Edward Seaga on stage, symbolizing unity and peace. Marley’s efforts went beyond music; he pushed for change, love, and peace, as highlighted in the recent film “Bob Marley: One Love.”

In my role as pastor, known as ‘The Rockin’ Reverend‘ for my love of rock music and heavy metal, I’ve seen how music and community service can go hand in hand. Whether through business acumen like Drake, musical talent like Marley, or simply through acts of kindness, we all have the power to build a legacy that strengthens our communities.

Newton and Sussex County, you have shown me the true meaning of community. From the rich mining history of Franklin to the generosity of individuals like Newman Drake, you’ve taught me that our greatest resource is our capacity to care for one another. My grandfather, an engineer and supervisor in both the Franklin and Sterling Hill Mines, played a significant role in the mining industry. A blueprint of the Sterling Hill Mine, donated by my family to the Smithsonian, stands as a testament to our family’s contributions to this important part of local history.

As I embark on this new chapter in East Bangor, I carry with me the lessons of generosity and community spirit that I’ve learned here. May we all continue to embody this spirit, using our unique gifts to refresh others and build stronger communities. In doing so, we create a legacy that echoes through generations, just as Newman Drake’s generosity continues to bless Newton today.

THOUGHT OF THE DAY
What legacy of generosity are you building in your community today?

PRAYER
Lord, guide us in creating legacies of generosity that reflect Your love and grace. Help us to use our gifts to refresh others and build stronger communities. Amen.

Devotion written by Rev. Todd R. Lattig with the assistance of Perplexity AI.