Ancient Rhythms, Modern Hearts

Focus Statement

To walk the way of Christ today,

we must learn how to move with ancient rhythms—

fluid, faithful, and culturally rooted in love.

Point of Relation

Throughout Lent, we’ve walked with the legacy of Patrick, Columba, and Aidan—

leaders who carried the Gospel through relationship, not empire.

But today, we pause with someone whose name is often forgotten: Ninian.

Long before Iona, Ninian brought Roman Christianity to the southern Picts.

He built stone churches and followed the customs of Rome.

But his mission, though sincere, didn’t last.

Within a generation, the faith faded.

Why? Because while Ninian brought the Gospel,

he didn’t translate it.

His message remained Roman—

delivered in foreign forms, spoken in Latin rhythms, disconnected from the people’s soul.

Centuries later, Columba’s monks would return to those same lands—

not with stone and formality, but with story, song, and sacred hospitality.

Ninian reminds us: the Gospel isn’t meant to be imposed—

it’s meant to be embodied.

Celtic Christianity came to understand this deeply.

Faith must take root in the culture and language of the people.

It must move in rhythm with their lives.

And that’s the rhythm we walk today—ancient in origin, alive in heart.

Things to Consider

Where in your life might God be inviting you to listen before you speak?

To meet someone in their rhythm instead of calling them into yours?

What traditions are still speaking—and which ones might need to be translated for today?

And most of all, what does it look like for you to walk the way of Christ

in a world desperate for both roots and relevance?

What Scripture Says

Before we walk forward, we must ground ourselves in the rhythm of Scripture—

the pulse that has guided spiritual pilgrims like us for generations.

Paul writes,

“Though I am free and belong to no one,

I have made myself a slave to everyone,

to win as many as possible” (1 Corinthians 9:19, NIV).

This isn’t strategy—it’s surrender.

He doesn’t change the Gospel;

he changes how he carries it:

“To the Jews I became like a Jew…

to those not having the law I became like one not having the law…

I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some” (vv. 20–22).

Paul translates the Gospel through love, not control.

He doesn’t dilute the message—he incarnates it.

And that’s the rhythm.

From the Council of Jerusalem,

where the apostles agreed not to burden Gentile believers with the Law of Moses (Acts 15:19),

to the windswept hills of Iona,

where Celtic monks brought the Gospel not with force but with friendship—

this has always been the Jesus way.

The Celtic tradition didn’t ignore culture—it listened to it.

Patrick spoke of a Triune God to a people wired for threes.

Aidan honored warrior loyalty by introducing a King who laid down his life for his people.

This wasn’t compromise—it was contextualization.

They moved with ancient rhythms:

faithful, flexible, rooted in grace.

And Christ?

He rode into the city not with might, but in humility—on a borrowed colt,

fulfilling prophecy in rhythm, not power.

That’s the ancient rhythm. That’s the way of Christ.

What This Means for You

You don’t need to be a monk or missionary to walk in ancient rhythms.

You just need a heart willing to meet people where they are.

The Gospel you carry isn’t breakable—it’s adaptable.

It speaks best when we stop performing and start listening.

Maybe your life feels offbeat—

faith dulled, connection lost.

This is your invitation to tune back in.

Not to strive harder, but to walk softer.

With Christ. In rhythm. In love.

What This Means for Us

As a church, we’re not called to preserve a museum of belief—

we’re called to embody a living faith.

That means creating a community where ancient truth meets present need.

Where tradition isn’t a cage, but a compass.

If we listen well, adapt wisely, and love boldly,

we can become a people who walk in step with Christ—

and invite others into that rhythm.

Amen? Amen.

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