2026 March 27th

Eve, James Solomon Russell, 2026 March 27th

“Strength for the Heart”

“Though my flesh and my heart should waste away,

God is the strength of my heart and my portion for ever.”~ Psalm 73:26

Beloved:

Holy Week in the season of Lent is observed with images that offer profound opportunities for deep reflections on the life of Jesus and our own encounters with the challenges that impact our lives. Often described as the wilderness experience, the temptations of Jesus, and our own struggles amid the trials of life shape our identity and witness as followers of Jesus Christ.

Marked by solemn liturgies and prayers, even the imposition of ashes that began this season, which includes Holy Week, was an invitation into the wilderness that surrounds us. Like Jesus, we are sometimes led into the wilderness - a place of testing and purpose, a place of confrontation, but also belonging. While the harshness of the wilderness might frustrate and irritate us, it is not a place of abandonment. We may perhaps be isolated, but not abandoned. God is always with us, even in the wilderness. If we see the wilderness primarily as a place of confrontation and contemplation, it becomes less of a place for combat.

When we find ourselves confronting the forces of the wilderness, we meet the powers of distractions that have set their gaze upon us, seeking to pull us away from our true identity and purpose. It is here that we are called to make a prayerful distinction between the need to confront and the temptation to combat. The temptation toward combat, which is often a fight with external realities and powers, tends to leave us empty and unfulfilled. Even when it seems that we have had outward success, won the fight or battle, the struggle with the inner realities remains. We cannot avoid the ultimate necessity of self-confrontation. The fear of not confronting the self is the burden that hinders our hopes and joy. We can walk away from what is around us, but not from what is within us. Acknowledging and returning to God, the One who loves and never leaves us, who calls us beloved, we rediscover and renew our strength, our hope, and joy.

May the work of this season strengthen our hearts with hope in the dark and dry places towards the light of day.

With Lenten blessings, I am,

Faithfully in Christ,

The Right Reverend John T.W. Harmon

Bishop of Arkansas

2025 December 24

“Light and Life”

Christmas Eve

2025 December 24th

“In Jesus Christ was life, and the life was the light of all people.”

~ John 1:4

Beloved,

There is something about life that longs for light. There, too, is something about light that points to the presence of life. Light finds its true purpose in life.  Life and light are intrinsically linked. We first hear of the advent of light in the story of creation: “Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light;” (Genesis 1:3) and again, in the story of the Incarnation, celebrated at Christmas:“In him was life, and the life was the light of all people.” (John 1:4)

Together, life and light unveil the truth of what is life-giving. They fulfill our deep hunger and thirst for love. Like life and light, the incarnation reflects God’s desire to love and humanity’s yearning for love.

The light and life of the incarnation transcend the brightness of the star; they eclipse the songs sung by the angels. They go beyond our travels to places and people who are dear to us. The birth of Jesus Christ, the light and life of the world, embodies redeeming love, making Christmas a work of love:

To free the oppressed,

To bind up the broken-hearted,

To release the prisoners,

This is the work of love.

To comfort the sorrowful,

To rebuild devastated communities

To love justice,

This is the work of love.

To reject wrongdoing,

To be a vessel of peace,

To lift the lives of the despairing with joy,

This, too, is the redeeming work of love.

May the light of the incarnation, God’s redeeming work of love, lead us to worship. May it encourage us to nurture the work of love that is within us. May it awaken hope and compel us towards the life of love. May the light and life of Jesus Christ awaken us with hope and courage that compel us toward the works of love.

With Christmastide blessings, I am,

Faithfully in Christ,

The Right Reverend John T.W. Harmon

Bishop of Arkansas

2025 December 12

Well Water Wisdom

Reflections from John T. W. Harmon

“God is with Us”

Though its waters rage and foam, and though the mountains tremble at its tumult. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold. ~ Psalm 46: 3 – 4

Beloved,

The arrival of Advent this year reminded me of the many joyful experiences I have had with water, as well as the few painful encounters that left me devastated. Yet, the anticipated coming of Jesus Christ and the assurance that God is always with us make Advent a season of true hopefulness.

Water has been a constant companion and integral part of my life and spiritual practice. The sea, rivers, lakes, creeks, rain, and the sounds they make are an invitation to remember God’s presence, which is always seeking to remake us into our true and better selves.

This is not an accident of birth. Each of us is born into a place meant to shape and give meaning to our lives. It is our first act toward belonging; our entrance into the visible world; the place of our soul’s incarnation. From there, our lives find authentic expression in the ways we welcome, embrace, and remember all that is beyond us – everyone and everything.

Like many of you, I was born in a sacred place. My birthplace is just two blocks from the Atlantic Ocean. I was baptized in a church one block from my home and that sea. While water is essential for life, it also fascinates me – intrinsically beautiful, deeply comforting, and shockingly terrifying all at once. It is everywhere, even in the driest and harshest of places, always inviting, reminding, and teaching us the fundamental wisdom of life.

From my ancestors, I have learned much about water, but two lessons particularly resonate with our relationship with God, the world, and one another. The first is that water takes the path of least resistance. Second, the sea does not keep what is given to it.

This year, our collective experience of the destructive power of water stunned and silenced our imagination as we approached the 20th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. The months that followed were equally troubling. From the devastating flash floods of the Guadeloupe River in Texas last July, which claimed the lives of more than two dozen campers and counselors, to Hurricane Pricilla in Mexico and Hurricane Melissa in Jamaica and Haiti, all instances of tragedy with limited opportunities to rescue the lives lost.

Although we are grateful for the valiant efforts of first responders and rescue workers, there remains a deep longing within the depths of our souls that cries out to God for help while simultaneously acknowledging that God is always with us through our sufferings. Amid my own fear of the dangers and power of water, I often find strength and solace in the psalmist's prayerful reflection in Psalm 46:

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth be moved, and though the mountains be toppled into the depths of the sea; “Though its waters rage and foam, and though the mountains tremble at its tumult. The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold.” ~ Psalm 46: 1 – 4

Indeed, God is with us. The God of our ancestors, the God of Jacob, is our refuge and home. This is the hope of Advent —the expectation of the God who desires to be with us and within us. The same God whose birth gives meaning to our lives. Advent offers us something worth waiting for, a birth that makes God real and visible to all of us, reminding us that God is present in every person and every part of creation.

Like water that waits to be moved, God is worth waiting for.

With Advent blessings, I am,

Faithfully in Christ,

The Right Reverend John T.W. Harmon

Bishop of Arkansas

2025 September 26

Well Water Wisdom

A Reflection from +John T.W. Harmon

“Balm in Gilead”

Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?

Why then has the health of the daughter of my people not been restored?”

~ Jeremiah 8:22

Beloved,

This is not the world or future we imagined for ourselves or our children. The depth of unimaginable pain and suffering that characterize the lives of so many in our neighborhoods, country, and around the world is an agonizing and exhausting distress. Our world, as it stands at this moment in time, desperately needs a radical healing.

We live in a world marked by relentless warfare, murders, gun violence, social and political upheaval, and religious divide, all punctuated by speeches devoid of Gospel values. All of which have given rise to a moral and humanitarian crisis. It feels as if we are being pulled apart as our world is spinning out of control. How did we get here? Where is that beloved community of goodwill and kindness, of justice and peace, of love and compassion?

We lament with the prophet Jeremiah, “My joy is gone; grief is upon me; my heart is sick. Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has the health of the daughter of my people not been restored?” (Jeremiah 8:22) Jeremiah’s words resonate with the longing of our hearts for healing and restoration. Yet, how do we begin to heal our communities, our nation, and the world when fear and distrust are the threads being woven into the fabric of our culture? Is there a balm in Gilead?

In these times, when our divisions have deepened due to harmful speech, coupled with violence that threatens and destroys human life, we must begin to heal and repair the fabric of society by intentionally living out our baptismal vows to respect the dignity of every human being.

Our words, our speech, and what we express now matter more than ever. Words are not simply expressions of our feelings and imagination; they can inspire peace and acts of love, that influence and encourage hope. They can become vessels of benevolence and goodwill, a healing balm that allows us to honor and respect all whose lives differ from our own.

Since words might serve as the balm, guiding us towards trust and healing, is there a word from God? Is there a balm within each of us that can help heal and mend our divisions, uniting us in a response that goes beyond soothing our personal guilt and safeguarding our privilege?

In all this, I hope we can take the prophet Isaiah as a guide when he says:

The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens, wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught. The Lord God has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I did not turn backwards. I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.” (Isaiah 50: 4-6)

May our words fall like seeds that awaken hope; may the reflection of our hearts search for the presence of Jesus in each other; and may our actions bear fruit that will heal our hurting world, conflicted communities, and broken hearts. May we strive to be instruments of God’s presence and healing.

There is a balm in Gilead to heal a wounded world. We are that balm.

With prayer and blessings, I am,

Faithfully in Christ,

The Right Reverend John T.W. Harmon

Bishop of Arkansas

2025 April 12

Well Water Wisdom

“Returning to God”

Rend your hearts and not your clothing. Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and relents from punishing.

~ Joel 2:13

Lent is an obvious invitation to repent, renew, and amend our lives; but it is much more. Lent is also about conversion; embracing our need for transformation. Conversion, in this sense, is a kind of returning to where we have not been before. Since it is almost impossible for us to return to where we have never been, our returning as a Lenten discipline, is an invitation to surrender, or give back to God that which belongs to God — our very selves. Thus, our return is a journey forward on a path that takes us deeper and back into the heart of God, our true home.

If conversion is indeed a return to a place we have yet to experience, a place where we have no recollections, then we can echo William Wordsworth's words:

Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:

The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,

Hath had elsewhere its setting

And cometh from afar:

Not in entire forgetfulness,

And not in utter nakedness,

But trailing clouds of glory do we come

From God, who is our home:

Heaven lies about us in our infancy!

Our conversion as a returning to God is more than a mere memory of some distant or imagined past. It is about the grounding of our lives and souls in a commitment to holiness, fostering a kindness that transforms everything about our lives and habits. It is an ongoing invitation to return again to our authentic selves, where we are unrecognizable, even to ourselves, as our hearts burn with the fire of God’s love.

Conversion is hard work. It requires sacrifice and involves some suffering that invites us to get out of the way so that God might be visible in and through us. It is passionate love that involves surrendering our wills, allowing us to reflect Christ's love in a broken and hurting world. Ultimately, our conversion is a reunion with God and each other, creating bonds of peace that give rise to joy.

May the remaining days of Lent bless you with joy and strength as Holy Week approaches.